Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   PORN STARS

   By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

   Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

   Part 10

   TEN YEARS LATER

   I found my old "story", that you've been reading, whilst going through
some old school stuff in mom and dad's attic.  I edited it slightly to make
sense of where my teen-age prose went a bit wrong.  Steve and Joe thought
that my written English wasn't good enough, and so made me write a chapter
of my history every two days.  They were right, as usual - just the
discipline of sitting down to write a long piece every day did do wonders
for my English, and gave me a new attitude to work.  If it hadn't been for
their intervention that day, I'm sure I wouldn't be where I am today - I
wouldn't have stayed on at school, I wouldn't have gone to University, or
made the tidy fortune I'm now amassing.

   Now that I've discovered again the pleasure of writing autobiography,
I'm tempted to carry on and describe all the things that happened to me in
these past ten years.  But I am exceedingly busy, and will, I think,
confine myself to just an outline - in my dotage, I'll come back to these
papers and fill in the fine detail: I'll be living on the memories then, as
the pleasures of the flesh will long have faded!

   Well, I stayed on at school, although Steve and Joe told me to move to a
sixth form college, where the people were more mature.  I had a real
problem in doing so, as I had been marked down as a "no hoper", but my
teachers were soon impressed by the amazing progress I made across s the
board - they were always talking about their new teaching methods, but I
knew it was simple terror of Steve and Joe's punishment that drove me on.

   Did they hit me again?  Yes, they did - in the first year, about five
times.  But when I got to university, it was only once - they thought I was
spending too much time drinking, and Steve decided to be reminded of the
work ethic.

   I made about four films a year at that time - initially just with Steve
and Joe, but gradually they introduced me to other members of their "set"
and they were happy to let me perform with other actors, too.  They made
sure I got paid "proper" fees, and, with the royalties, by the time I went
to university I had a tidy little nest egg.

   One of the films I made at that time is, interestingly, still a best
seller, especially in the USA.  Steve and Joe advised me against doing it,
but when I started to argue, they just shrugged their shoulders and said I
had to learn the hard way.  I wondered what they meant - it seemed to be a
pretty simple plot: a fictitious rape of a young guy by a bigger, stronger
older one.

   When I got to the studio for the filming that morning I was surprised to
find we were going to do it in the bare room I'd first been filmed in,
without the usual tangle of camera men and sound people around.  "It's got
to be one smooth, first-time take", the Director explained, "And all those
other people just get in the way."

   So saying, he left, and my fellow "star" came in - he was at least six
foot seven and very heavily muscled.  He was jet black, and as he stripped
off his clothes, I saw he had the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and this was
mounted on top of very low hanging balls about the size of quail's eggs. 
He was muscled everywhere - not with those overdeveloped bodybuilder
muscles, but lean and defined.  As he stripped his clothes off, his skin
shone under the bright lights as he was already covered in a sheen of
sweat. I don't know if he shaved his body or if he was naturally smooth,
but there was nothing to mar the perfection of his musculature - he just
stood there, flexing and stretching, and I was in awe of it all.

   He hardly said anything, but came over to me and literally ripped my
clothes off.  I thought we'd spend some time, as you do, getting to know
each other and lubing up and so on, but I soon realised that this
"fictitious rape" was going to be a real one - he picked me up and
literally threw me onto the bed, and the next moment was trying to thrust
himself up me, with no lube or anything!  I started to shout, telling him
to stop, and he just laughed and carried on.  I tried to stop him.  I
struggled and hit him and fought as best I could, but he was so big, so
strong, so powerful that he complexly overwhelmed me.  The more I struggled
the more he seemed to enjoy it, and he slapped me once or twice if I showed
signs of giving in too soon (I suppose he knew they needed a lot of footage
for the movie, because of editing).  His cock was stabbing at me, and soon
made its way in - and then I had the most brutal, the most painful, the
hardest fucking I've ever experienced.

   They say that one of the best sound tracks on any DVD is on that one,
and several of the critics ask how it could be that it sounds so realistic
- well, I can tell you!  It was for real.  This was no pretend rape, this
was a real one, as I did everything I could to try to stop him.

   As I said, it still sells well, especially in the USA - I guess it's
their thing about black men raping young white guys, that's a special
turn-on over there.

   Afterwards I was furious - I was hurting, and could feel blood trickling
from my arse.  But the producer and the "star" just laughed, told me to
bend over, examined my hole and said there was no permanent tearing.

   That night, as I sat with Steve and Joe, I was shifting uncomfortably
and complaining.  I went on and on about being raped, how bad it was, how
the fucker had really hurt me.  They listened for a few minutes and then
Steve had his say.

   "Look, Ray, it's not the end of the world.  You've had a lot of cocks up
you now, and you'll have a whole lot more.  So you didn't want this guy to
do it - so what?  He was bigger, stronger and more virile than you, so he
fucked the hell out of you and you didn't like it.  Well, tough - that's
the way of the world.  Strong men always have their way over weaker ones,
and it's just that you're usually used to being one of the strong - it does
you good every now and then to remember that there are more powerful guys
in the world.  And it's not as if a 'rape' actually does any harm, after
all, as long as he didn't tear your sphincter - you'll be sore for a couple
of days, and then you'll be fuckable again as usual.  So stop griping. 
And, remember, Joe and I did advise you against it.  You need to learn to
accept responsibility for the consequences of your choices."

   So I shut up, and just had to watch them at play that night without
being able to take a full part - although Joe did let me fuck him, after
Steve had.

   It was whilst I was at university that I found another source of funds -
although I had the money from the films I'd made, I wanted a nice place to
live and not some grim student lodging.  I'd been browsing the Internet one
day and seen all these "Escorts" advertising themselves, so I put a notice
up on the bulletin board and waited.  Unlike a lot of the guys who were
timid and didn't want to show their faces or anything, I was used to
exposing my body now and so I posted a full body and face picture of
myself. I also said that I was a 20 year old aggressive top, and that and
man hiring me should expect to be fucked out of his brains!

   When I started my story I'd had a young, athletic body, but I'd filled
out now properly - as well as insisting on me doing well academically,
Steve made me work out regularly, and it had really paid dividends- my neck
had thickened and strengthened, I had those biceps you only see on young,
strong guys who work out, and my bum was tough and muscular.  My thighs
were lean, and could pound away for hours on the running track (or power my
body up and down for ever, as I fucked!).  So my photo was, I guess, pretty
exciting - especially as I chose one of me with a full erection, with my
thumb just skinning back my foreskin to reveal my moist cock head.

   There were some real cheap guys, who tried to bargain a low price as I
was "just a student", but I always held out for full "London rates" that
I'd seen elsewhere.  And, of course, I always gave excellent value for
money - even though I really didn't fancy 99 percent of the men who paid
me, I always fucked them hard and long and, more importantly, I was always
polite and cheerful - it was amazing how many men screwed up their courage
to pay for sex, then got scared at the last minute.  I guided them through
it all, made them feel relaxed, then fucked the hell out of them!  I got a
lot of repeat business.

   All the time I was at university I still was making porn films, and my
fame was spreading - I started to get top billing.  By the time I left, my
earnings from escorting, and from my porn work, found me tolerably well off
- I didn't spend any of it on drugs or anything, as I was so proud of my
body and didn't want to do anything to ruin it.

   I never made any secret of my homosexuality at university, and a lot of
guys tried to date me, but I never accepted.  I got all the fucking I
wanted with the men who paid me to do it, after all, and, frankly, I just
didn't fancy guys the same age as me.  Once you've experienced real men
like Joe and Steve, it spoils you for out of condition, thin weedy blokes.
So I had a relatively lonely time socially - but that gave me lots of time
for study (and, remember, I needed to do really well as there was always
the threat of a beating from Steve and Joe when I went down to London to
stay with them for making a film).

   I also gave up football, but joined the college rugby union team - that
was much more of a man's sport, and I was able to work out some of my
aggression on the field.  Initially some of the blokes on the team didn't
want to go into the communal baths with a "faggot", so I needed to sort
them out - I knew a thing or two about how to use my body, after all, as I
sometimes needed to teach a little lesson to a client who refused to pay at
the end of the session!  By my third year, though, they'd all accepted me
and I was one of the key players - big, tough, strong, and rough as you
need to be for Union.  No one ever mentioned anything derogatory about
queers or fags now, and I like to think I did my bit for spreading some
common sense about it amongst my team mates.  In fact, at our annual
dinners, I did a 'turn' that brought the house down - in front of all the
men, and their wives and girlfriends, I stripped off completely and did a
sketch about how most men don't know how to wank properly!  It didn't
embarrass me at all, of course, as I was used to doing this sort of thing
in public, but it was pretty radical for the social club we were at just
outside the university town!  Several of the guys after that asked me to
"remind" them of a few points, and I used to sit on the edge of the
communal bath and show them.  No one ever complained about getting some of
my cum shot over them, or of it making those little threads in the communal
bath water - I don't think I was that scary, but then, no one really wanted
to find out.

   A couple of clubs wanted me to turn professional after I left
university, but I didn't fancy it - it would mostly have meant living up
North, and I was eager to get back to London.  Steve and Joe were keen for
me to get a job with a big company, and I had a lot of offers as I had a
"first", and was seen to have all the sorts of qualities they were looking
for - captain of the team, and all that crap.

   Unlike most blokes of my age, I had enough for a deposit on a decent
flat, and bought one just down the road from Steve and Joe - smaller, but
new, and with a river view.  It was really hard to convince the Building
Society to give me a mortgage, as I had no "visible" sources of income, but
I noticed that the manager of the Branch I went in to was unusually
interested in me.  As we talked, I sprawled a bit in my chair, opened my
legs, and let my hand gently stroke my crotch.  He couldn't take his eyes
off me, so I got bolder, and asked him if he knew of any good pubs in the
area, as I was new there.  It was the end of the day, and we ended up going
out for a drink - and from that it was really easy to get him to take me
home, and for me then to fuck him.  As we lay in bed afterwards, and he was
cuddled up to me, relaxing as blokes do when they've just had the best fuck
they've ever experienced, I told him that if he was one of my clients, that
would have cost him!  We laughed, as I explained to him the mechanics of
escorting, and pointed out that he ought to be able to judge that I was one
of the best in the business, and could easily earn enough to cover the
mortgage.  The following day I got my money from the Society!.

   Of course it all build, one thing on another.  I was now so well known
as a porn star that I could charge a lot more for an escort session - a lot
of blokes want to think they've experienced the "real thing" after they've
seen it on the screen.  But all of this is not how I really made my pile -
sure, it pays the bills, but it didn't make me "wealthy".

   One night I'd just fucked a client and, as I usually did, we lay there
chatting.  I think that's one of the reasons why I get a lot of repeat
business - the clients appreciate me treating them as "people" and not just
as arses to fuck and wallets to pay from.  This bloke asked me if I ever
bottomed, and of course I told him no.  But as he had shown no sign of
wanting to top me, I was curious as to why he asked.

   "Well it's just that our American CEO is coming to London this week and
his PA has told us - discreetly - that he enjoys a little man to man action
when he's safely away from the Westchester Mansion, the wife, and the kids.
I'd really like him to have a good time, and I know that you'd be perfect -
but he's the big chief, and I know he'd want to fuck, and not be fucked. 
Could you recommend someone, someone like you - big, handsome, courteous,
sensual - but a bottom?"

   I thought about it a bit, and decided to cheat.  So I told him that I'd
arrange it with "a friend of mine."

   I couldn't believe the fuss there was about this CEO - most of my
clients just turn up at my flat, or I go to their place.  They decided he'd
rather have an out-call at his hotel, then they said that he might not want
"an escort" turning up at the hotel - as if you could tell!  So I suggested
that I went around to their offices, dressed smartly, and took him to the
arranged meet.

   I'm not a suit man and never owned one, but I do know how important
appearances are - after all, it's my basic stock in trade.  So I went and
bought a really expensive BOSS suit, a couple of fine shirts in Jermyn
Street, and an expensive Hermes tie, as I'd seen all the bankers wearing.
They were all super clothes, but on my tanned, lean, muscular body they
looked sensational.  As I walked through the streets I was conscious of
people turning to look at me - well, some men do all the time ,of course,
but this was a whole lot of people.

   To my amazement "the office" turned out to be one of the 50-story HQ
towers at Canary Wharf, and at reception I was redirected to a special
reception area "for the executive floor".  It was all extremely plush - an
a special express lift whisked me up to the 40-something floor.  This guy
evidently was a real power in the world.

   A most elegant woman asked me if I'd like coffee, and apologised for the
boss being a few minutes behind schedule.  I realised this was all very
high level - she was his secretary, but she had secretaries of her own!  I
was interested in seeing this slice of corporate life, and wondered if this
is how I would have ended up if I'd entered it from university as Mike and
Joe had wanted.  Everyone seemed to be well dressed, and calm and
unhurried. But I thought I looked a lot better than all of them!

   Finally, I was ushered in to a huge office, and there was an ordinary
guy, in his mid-50s, I'd guess, sitting behind a desk engrossed in papers.
He worked away, signing things, as I stood there patiently.  Then he looked
up.

   "Sorry to have kept you.  I'm sorry - I don't think we've met...."

   Perhaps he'd forgotten about our appointment, or perhaps my appearance -
perfect executive - fooled him.

   He was reaching out his hand in greeting, and I took it, but gripped his
wrist and, to his surprise, moved his hand down to my crotch and let him
feel my cock under the thin material of my suit (I'd not worn any
underwear, as usual).

   He looked almost startled!  I carried on, moving his hand over me a
little against his resistance - I could easily overcome the token effort
that he was putting up.  My cock sprang to life, and I knew he could
appreciate the power and size of it.

   "I'm Ray", I said, "Your escort for this evening.  Do you like what you
feel?"

   He mumbled something, and I went on "Why don't you call your senior
secretary and tell her you've decided that my meeting with you will take a
long time, and that they can all go home, and that you want complete
privacy now?"

   He picked up the phone, and did as I had asked.

   I moved around to the same side of the desk as him and started to kiss
him.  I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and did the same to mine.  I
let my trousers drop to the floor so that I was standing there in only my
shirt, and pulled his hands down to fondle my cock and balls.

   "No, not here!" He started to say.

   "Why not?  It suits me!"

   I remembered something that Steve had told me once about all men really
wanting to be taken by a big powerful man.  This guy, I knew, spent his
whole life ordering things around, and I'd been told he wanted to top a
bottom.  But now I was going to try to put Steve's idea into practice - I
intended to fuck this guy.

   So I moved to take complete control, and basically pushed him to his
knees in front of me.  I could see he was almost panicking, but the moment
I slapped his face with my stiff cock, he seemed to calm.  I teased his
lips with it, and curtly told him not to dare touch it until I said he
could.  I continued to slap his cheeks and tease his lips with my cock, and
I could see that he was almost mesmerised by it, so I changed pace, and
told him to open his mouth and put out his tongue.  I then skinned back my
foreskin, and gently touched my moist cock head to his tongue, sliding
myself very gently in and out.

   He shut his mouth and started to suck me, so I gently slapped his face -
very gently, just a tap really, as I didn't want to leave a mark.

   "No!  Don't you dare!  You only get to suck this cock when I give you
permission.  First, get to your feet and strip for me."

   He rose and stood looking at me.  "What are you waiting for?  I told you
to strip - now, get naked!"

   I saw him start to undo the buckle on his trousers, and I knew I had
him. Steve was right - he did secretly want to be dominated.

   Once he was naked I too took off my tie and shirt, and stood in front of
him.  I took his right wrist in my hand, and made him move his hand all
over my torso and stomach, feeling my rock hard muscles and my big, hard
nipples.

   He was moaning softly.  I encouraged him: "Yes, you like that, don't
you? Now - you've earned a little reward - on your knees again, and get my
cock in your mouth.  I want to see if you've learned anything about how to
give blow jobs from any of the guys who've given you one."

   I increased my control over him by holding his head and forcing him to
take more of me into his throat than he wanted, then pulled out.  He
reached greedily for me again, and tried to carry on sucking me.

   "No - not too much!  This cock is reserved for that arse of yours.  I
need a fuck."

   "No, I don't take it...."

   "You do now!"

   As I said this I swept the papers off his desk, pulled him to his feet,
and pushed him backwards onto the desktop.  I fell on top of him so that he
could feel the weight of my muscled body all along his, and started to kiss
him passionately whilst tweaking his nipples and wanking his cock.  I could
tell that he was completely overcome with passion - he'd never had a man
treat him like this before, simply flooding his body with sensation, and he
was running his hands along my back in ecstasy.  I don't suppose he'd ever
cum so quickly for many years, and it was only a couple of minutes before
my hand was sticky with his ejaculate.  As he watched, I brought my hand up
to my mouth and licked his cum from my fingers, then at once thrust my head
down again and kissed him - I just knew that this was the first time he'd
ever had such a delicious cum-filled kiss, and I prolonged it by exploring
all his mouth with my tongue.

   I'm usually very careful about fucking guys with a condom, but I felt OK
about this guy - married, rich, only a top (and I guessed too scared to
bareback), and with the best medical attention money could buy.  So I
didn't break off to get a condom out of my pocket, but proceeded to lube
him with his own cum, then coat my cock with that which remained, and went
at him.

   He must have been fucked before - I don't believe all tops can ever just
have fucked and not been fucked.  After all, there were no aggressive
assertive tops more aggressive and assertive than me, but Joe and Steve had
fucked me.  But for him it was just as if it was his first time.  I knew I
couldn't do my normal rough fucking, so went ever so slowly and gently - I
had his legs on my shoulders, so I was able to look down at him as I slowly
pushed my way in, then slid myself in and out oh so calmly.  He was looking
at me - that's odd, as most of the men that I fuck have their eyes closed.
So locking my eye on his, I reached down and tweaked both his nipples,
quite hard.  His back arched and he gave a little cry of surprise, and I
built on the sensation by just thrusting that little bit extra hard, so he
grunted with the unexpected and delicious sensation.

   I gradually built up until I was thrusting in and out at a fair pace,
and he was responding with little gasps of excitement and pleasure.  I
don't need to fake it, as some escorts do, as with so much practice
(especially doing porn films, when the director often wants you to "cum to
order" as he frames a particular shot) I can almost control when I shoot.
So when I judged he had had enough, I let myself ejaculate and fell
forwards on to him so he could feel my hot sweaty body.  He was in some
different place - he was moaning, and running his hands almost out of
control over my back, and I started kissing him again to prolong his
pleasure.

   Finally, I stood up, and pulled myself slowly out of him.  He had an
executive washroom off one side of the office, so I strode over and cleaned
his shit off my cock, then came back with some lavatory paper and wiped his
arse of my cum and his shit where it had flowed out.  I don't expect he'd
had anyone wipe his are for him since he was a kid Then I went back and
washed my hands, and came back and pulled him to his feet.

   "OK?"

   "Amazing!"

   "You usually top, don't you?"

   "Yes.  I like to be in control."

   "Well, here's a tip from me, that I've found with a lot of clients -
sometimes it's even more relaxing to let go.  With the right guy in charge,
even a top can enjoy getting fucked occasionally.  But be sure to choose a
REAL top, one who can really take charge."

   "Anyway ", I continued as I started to pull my clothes on.  "Did they
say anything about my fee?"

   "Oh...  I thought that was all arranged..."

   I grinned at him, and said "Well, I usually don't give credit, but this
place looks pretty secure - I guess it's unlikely you'll go bankrupt before
I get paid!"

   He was smiling now, and said "Can I hire you for the evening?"

   "I usually tell men they can't afford me for more than an hour - I don't
come cheap, you know - I charge four times the usual rate as I'm so well
known from my movie work.  But in your case, I think that probably doesn't
matter.  However, I've enjoyed coming to see corporate life, so I'm going
to waive any further fee.  Let's go out and eat just as two men together, I
won't charge, and you won't pay - we'll even split the bill, so we're
equals!"

   "That's the best offer anyone has made me for a long time - you're a
real man.  Most of the other men I ever meet work for me, or want something
from me.  They never say 'no' or disagree with me.  You're the first guy
for a long time who's dared to be his own man with me, and I respect you
for that."

   He'd finished dressing now, and we looked like two executives - he the
older, sophisticated, CEO, and me the up and coming thrusting junior.

   "I'll call my car, and get him to take us somewhere for dinner", he went
on.  "My staff will have made reservations somewhere."

   "No - I'm tired, and I don't want to eat out.  Forget the car, we'll
walk to my flat and I'll rustle us up something."

   As we walked out of the building there was a TV crew in the lobby who
wanted to interview him for the next morning's breakfast TV show's
financial slot.  I don't suppose that most of the viewers who saw the
handsome guy standing in the background as he gave a perfectly crafted "off
the cuff" interview realised that I'd been "on camera" many, many times
before!

   We had a great evening - he really liked just eating the spaghetti and
sauce I threw together, and a couple of beers, as he said he was tired of
constantly eating in hotels and restaurants.  He told me that even when he
was at home in the USA he never got to eat in his house - there was a
constant round of business dinners, receptions, and so on.  As we sat on
the sofa after eating, we'd kicked our shoes off, taken our ties off and
loosened our belts.

   "Tell me about yourself, Ray."

   "Nothing to tell, really - I work hard, I enjoy my work....  "

   "No - your parents.  Pretty rich, to buy you this place, aren't they?"

   "They didn't.  This is bought with my own money.  Mom and dad have never
been able to give me a penny.  I worked my way through university, and now
I work hard to pay for my own life."

   "God, | wish my sons were like you.  How old are you - mid twenties?"

   "Twenty four."

   "Just like my eldest son.  But he's never worked for a day in his life.
I paid for the best schools, the best university, and he's bone idle.  He's
rude and arrogant.  I can't imagine him being courteous to someone as
you've been, or even being able to sit down like this and just talk."

   "I shouldn't be too harsh on him - me and my dad don't do this, either.
And you probably don't have your son do to you what we did earlier...  And
I don't do it to my dad, either!  Once two guys have fucked, you know,
there's a certain intimacy between them...."

   We both laughed a the idea of having sex with parents and children, but
he went on "Never the less, you are astonishingly mature.  I need men like
you in my organisation.  I don't suppose | could offer you a job?"

   I didn't hesitate even for moment.  "No.  It's really good of you, but
do you remember what you said about 'yes men' around you?  I don't want to
be like that.  I like being my own boss, earning my own living.  Being my
own man."

   "Yes, that's the problem.  All the men with strong characters, like you,
no longer want to climb the corporate ladder."

   We talked on, and suddenly realised it was midnight!  He reached for his
mobile, and pressed a button.

   "Hey, Ray, I must go....  I've got a board meeting in the morning.  I'll
just get the chauffeur."

   "No, let the guy sleep!  I'll call the local minicab company."

   "No - the insurers insist I have my chauffeur who's trained in
anti-kidnapping stuff, otherwise our corporate cover is invalid."

   "Now I really don't envy you!  There is another solution, though... 
Stay the night."

   He looked at me.  "No....  I couldn't take another fucking, and you've
worn me out - I couldn't get it hard enough to fuck you!"

   "I thought you were meant to be tough!  Look, you don't know what you're
turning down.  First, I don't ask guys to stay the night, never.  You're
the first.  And second, I don't get fucked, except by a couple of very
special guys.  Half the porn watchers in the world wonder what it would be
like to get heir cocks up my arse, and you could have the opportunity. 
And, what's more, I'm offering it to you for free, even though you look as
if you can well afford to pay a working guy like me."

   "Well, with terms like that....  "

   Actually, we didn't fuck again that night - we just lay in each other's
arms chatting and whispering and occasionally nuzzling each other with the
sheer delight of being in the company of another man we really liked.  We
wanked, as we were both hard, and drifted into sleep almost stuck together
with our cum.

   The next morning he almost panicked!  He couldn't go to the office in
the same shirt he'd word the day before - which did look very crumpled,
after what he'd been through, I admit.  Mine were too big for him, so we
had a faintly hilarious episode when we raced across London in a minicab to
his hotel so he could change, then back again to his office.

   It's amazing what men tell you when they're happy and content and
satiated with sex.  He'd talked about business as we lay in bed that night,
and I didn't understand most of it.  But I did call my bank and make a
small investment that morning, and a week later I had tripled my money.

   The other pleasant surprise was that my contact in the company called me
up later that day and asked me to go in.  I wore my suit gain, and went to
his office - there was a contract there for "Consultancy Services".  It
paid me five thousand pounds a day - and noted that I'd already done one
day's work.

   "Our CEO is delighted with the work you do", he told me with a grin,
"And I've been asked to see if your diary is free on the following dates
for further 'consultancy and counselling service sessions' ...."

   Well, that was the start of my wealth.  Five thousand for a fuck.  Plus
the capital appreciation on my investments which flowed in a fairly
consistent stream.  And, of course, he recommended me to his friends - I
discovered that there was discrete circle of senior executives who liked to
play when they were away from home, and having a reliable, intelligent,
responsive playmate, who could be charged to corporate expenses, was just
the ticket.  I'm careful, of course, never to make investments that are too
big if I hear of good opportunities when I'm with clients - although I
doubt that the financial regulators would ever guess how I might come by
the information!

   It's not all good news, though - I've now got to pay tax!  The
stockbrokers, and the companies with the corporate contracts, all report to
the Inland Revenue.  I'd never paid tax in my life before, as the porn
video game and the escorting business are strictly "cash in hand".  So that
takes 40% off my money straight away - what a fucking cheek the government
has, to tax my hard work!  And I have to pay an accountant - although he
does manage to get some of the costs of running my flat offset against this
income, as it's my "business premises".

   So what of Steve and Joe?  Well, they left England for good last year.
Steve didn't want Joe to keep working outdoors in the British winter as he
got older.  So they sold up and bought a ramshackle property in Cyprus. 
They're converting it into a luxury guest house for gay guys, and already
they get quite a lot of customers - Joe is doing all the rebuilding
himself, and the guests get a real thrill from seeing him toiling away,
stark naked, at the work.  Steve runs gym classes, and really makes them
work out!

   I was really sad to lose them, as we'd got into the habit of always
spending Sundays, and Sunday nights together.  I really enjoyed the
intimacy we shared, and there is always something special about the men who
first introduce you to sex, after all!  But they come over four times a
year, as they still make porno films - they still look great, and the
audience seems to like big, solid, older guys anyway (especially when they
tame wild young lads!).  Those four weeks are special for me - I don't take
clients (unless it's one of my special corporate contracts, and I can't
afford to turn one of those down!), and Steve and Joe stay with me: I keep
thinking of buying a bigger flat, I can well afford it, but every time I do
I remember that then all three of us wouldn't be crammed together in such
delightful closeness in my current place!

   We did another film together last time they were over.  There was to be
a "rape" scene in it, and the director wanted Steve to overpower me and
fuck me hard.  I thought the scene would work as well the other way, and as
Steve started to wrestle me to the ground, I fought back.  As Steve was
getting older, I was growing in power of course, and for the first time I
realised that I could overcome him.  I wrestled him harder and harder, then
flipped him onto his stomach and started to thrust my cock at his hole. 
Then I saw Joe looking at me, and shaking his head.  I knew what he meant -
Steve was always in charge; he never got fucked by Joe or me; and if I went
ahead, something would change for ever in our relationships, and it might
not be for the best.  So without doing it overtly, I slackened off a bit
and Steve took that opportunity to fight back.  I let him fuck me, actually
- and he was particularly harsh and vicious, so that even with all my
experience, I was sore afterwards.  But it was one of those things that I
suppose is worth the price.

   Mom and dad are rather like the US forces - "Don't ask, don't tell". 
They know I make a lot of money, they know I never have girls on my arm,
and they know they wouldn't really like to know what I do.  So they don't
discuss it, and neither do I.  Actually, I know they know - I was with dad
in the local newsagents one day, and there, staring at him from a gay
magazine on the top shelf, was my face with the headline "Favourite porn
star does it again".  But he didn't mention it, of course, and neither did
I - but I could tell from the way his body stiffened that he'd seen it.

   Mom sometimes lets things slip, though.  She'll say something like "Oh I
wish I had grandchildren.  Look at that Alex that you used to be so close
to - he's got four kids now.  His mother's a lucky woman!"

   Well, his mother might be a lucky woman, but his wives or girl friends
aren't - Alex got married at 17 and had three kids, one a year, before he
was 21.  Then he left her, or she walked out on him, who knows, and he's
just had another by his current woman.

   I've seen them in the streets - she's always walking by his side, but
slagging him off!  They're piss poor - Alex doesn't earn anything, of
course, working as a street cleaner.  And with alimony to his wife,
maintenance payments for the first three kids, and the cost of his
girlfriend and the fourth kid, I don't know how he affords the rent on
their grimy council flat.

   I'd been visiting mom and dad one day, and stopped in the local for a
drink - well, actually, to get out of the rain that suddenly burst out: I'm
not a big drinker.  Alex was in there, nursing a pint on the bar.  I
couldn't avoid him, and, actually, I didn't want to - it was time there was
closure between us.  So I went up to him and said hullo.

   Alex just ignored me, and I was cross.  "Look, you could at least say
hullo to an old friend."

   "Friend?  Fucking friend...?  You ruined my life..."

   "Hey, Alex, how did I ever ruin your life?"

   He'd almost been shouting, but now dropped his voice so the rest of the
pub couldn't hear.  "You fucked me!"

   "So?"

   "You heard.  I said 'you fucked me'."

   "But why did that ruin your life?  Men get fucked all the time."

   "I don't know about you, Ray, but I'm a proper bloke.  I don't fuck men,
and I don't take it up the arse.  If you hadn't fucked me..."

   "Hold on!  You ignorant shit - you've no idea what real men do!  All you
do is pump sperm into those slags who produce your whiny kids.  How do you
know what real men do?  You never gave it a chance - you chickened out as
soon as you could.  And, in any case, if it hadn't been for you, we'd never
have been in that situation in the first place."

   "Now you're blaming me...."

   "No one's blaming anyone, Alex, except you!  There's no 'blame' anyway -
it s all perfectly natural..."

   He started to scream "Natural...  You fucking pervert...  You..."

   So I hit him.  Hard.  And I'm a powerful bloke.

   He collapsed on the floor, and the landlord and the other customers
started to shout at me - although when they saw my size and fitness, they
didn't come too close or try to intervene!

   I decided the best thing to do was to get out of there, so I pulled Alex
to his feet, wrapped an arm of his around my neck, and half carried, half
dragged him into the street.  Blood was pouring from his nose and going all
over me - he must have hit it as he went down, as I'd punched him in the
stomach as I hadn't wanted to damage his face.

   I saw a taxi, and hailed it, but he didn't stop - I don't suppose the
sight of all that blood was very appealing.  But he got stuck at the
lights, so I dragged Alex over, and wrenched open the cab door.  The driver
started to shout, but shut up when I told him I'd do the same to him, and
thrust a couple of twenties at him from my wallet (I've always got lots of
cash - most of my clients pay that way!).

   I took Alex back to my flat, stripped his clothes off, and pushed him
into the bath.  Hot water works wonders for most aches and pains, I know
(it can get rough making some of the films I'm now in to).  I stripped,
too, as I was covered in his blood, and stood at the end of the bath and
ran the shower over me.

   "Fucking leave me alone, pervert", Alex snarled.

   "What makes you think I fancy you, Alex?  Look at you - you used to be a
real stud, with all the girls chasing you.  Now you've got that manky long
hair that's not even very clean-looking, you're getting a pot belly from
too much beer and poor food...."

   Alex was looking at me, as I stood there, the perfect picture of a man
in his mid twenties - athletic, muscular, handsome, bronzed, with my
clipped hair...  I knew he was comparing himself to me.

   I got out of the bath and dried myself, then went and fetched him a
beer. I didn't even think anything of it, I suppose - I usually go around
my flat naked if I've showered - but I think Alex read something in to it.

   As he lay in the hot water chugging the beer down, I could see him
looking at me again and again.  He looked so sad.

   "Come on, Alex.  That water's getting cold.  All the benefit will be
gone from it.  Up you come.." I reached down and took his arm, thinking he
would still be stiff.

   "I told you not to touch me, pervert!"

   "Use that word once more, Alex, and I'll hit you again."

   "Fucking pervert...."

   So I did.  I pulled him out of the bath, sat on the lavatory, pulled him
over my naked thighs, held his head down with one hand and spanked his bum
four times with the other.  He shut up, abruptly.  I tipped him off my
knees, and he sprawled naked on the bathroom floor, looking up at me.

   "Alex, I'm bigger than you and stronger than you.  If I wanted to fuck
you, I could and I would and there wouldn't be a blind thing you could do
about it.  Instead, I'm just trying to help."

   As I said this, I took one of my big bath sheets and wrapped it around
his body - he was almost too thin, and didn't have good muscular
development for a man the same age as me.

   He kept it tightly wrapped around him as I looked at his clothes - they
were not very good quality anyway, were very worn, and were soaked in
blood. So I rummaged through my wardrobe, and found some old sweat pants
and a T-shirt for him.

   He went to turn away from me in order to dress, and I was fed up by his
silly posturing.

   "For God's sale, Alex, I've seen your tackle often enough.  And I don't
suppose it's shrunk or anything, has it, from all those women you fuck?"

   There was a flicker of a grin across Alex's face for a moment.

   "Come and have a beer, for old time's sake.  And shake?" I held out my
hand, and he took it.

   Well, one beer became two, became three, became four, and we were soon
talking about "the old days".  We were laughing and joking, almost as if
the intervening years had not happened.  Suddenly we noticed it was eight
o'clock, and Alex said he ought to be going.  I gave him the phone to ring
his girl friend to say he was on his way, but after he had dialled and said
something, I heard the most foul string of invective pouring out of the
phone at Alex.  The poor guy looked so wretched - she was screaming so loud
that I couldn't help hearing, and she told Alex never to go back again,
that she'd call the police, that she'd already changed the locks...

   Alex looked shattered.  "Oh, fuck me - I suppose it's back to sleeping
on the sofa at me mom's.  What a cow!  Still, it had to happen - we've
never really got on, and I only started fucking her after my marriage broke
up, just to teach my ex a lesson."

   He went to leave, and looked around at my flat wistfully.

   "You could sleep on my sofa tonight, Alex, if you'd rather..."

   He looked at me.  "Well, it would save me that trek out to Dagenham. 
And my mom might not be in..."

   "You must be starving.  Let's have something to eat."

   As I cooked my favourite spaghetti and sauce, Alex stood in the kitchen
and we had another couple of beers.  By the time we had finished eating, we
were almost friends again.

   I went to get some spare bedclothes out of the cupboard for Alex to use
on my sofa, and as I did so I thought I'd test him.

   "You know what's saddest, Alex.  And look, mate, I'm sorry if this
hurts, but it's true.  Well, what's saddest is that the Alex I knew was
always in charge.  You always took the lead.  You decided everything.  Now
I see that you let all these slags order you around.  And you're even
afraid to share a bed with an old mate."

   "No I'm not.  I still decide things...  I"

   "So why am I getting all this stuff out then?  The bedroom's through
there, if you're not afraid!"

   I have a super king size bed of course - I'm a big guy anyway, and I
like my clients to have a lot of room if I'm doing an in-call.  Alex looked
at it, and said "Which side?"

   "You choose, Alex - I'm easy."

   He got under the duvet, still wearing the sweat pants and T.  I had
pulled on the same thing whilst I was cooking, but of course now stripped
them off, and massaged my cock to free it from where it had been sticking a
bit to my balls.  I saw Alex watching.

   As we lay there, I said "You know, Alex, it's ironic - you got me into
the porn stuff, and it made my life.  But you think it ruined yours.  I
think you've got a real hang-up about men, and you'll never really get on
with your life until you get over it."

   "Don't be so fucking stupid, Ray.  Since when did you know anything
about psychology?"

   "I'm a pretty good practical psychologist, Ray.  That's why I'm so good
as an escort.  I always give the client what he really wants, even if he
doesn't know that's what he wants."

   "You get fucked for money, here, in this bed?"

   "No, Alex.  I fuck for money, here, in this bed.  I'm a top, as they
say, and I only give it, not take it.  That's another way I've changed - I
always used to do as you told me, but now it's me who makes the rules."

   Alex went silent and turned over on his side, away from me, and after a
few minutes I thought I heard a little muffled sob.

   "Alex...  Are you OK?"

   "Yes" - but it was very muffled, very halting.

   I moved over the bed and put my arm around Alex.  I could feel his ribs
heaving with emotion.

   "Hey, Alex, what's the matter?"

   Then it all came out.  In halting phrases, and then gradually getting
faster and faster, Alex told me how he'd lost his way after our first
filming, how he'd just started fucking wildly, how he'd got his wife
pregnant when he was 17 and had to marry her, the misery of life with no
money and more kids on the way, the rows, the soul-destroying work with no
interest, no prospects....  And then he went on to say that it hadn't
affected me, though - I had a good job, lots of money, a nice flat....  And
I was the one now in control.

   "Alex - fuck me"

   "What?"

   "You need to be in control again, mate.  You lost it when I fucked you.
No one has ever fucked me other than Steve and Joe, so you'd be 'the first'
in a manner of speaking.  Go on...  Fuck me, reassert your manhood."

   "No, I couldn't."

   "Why not?  You seem to know how to use that cock of yours.  Four kids,
is it?  Any more on the way?"

   Alex actually laughed.

   "Who can say, the dirty slags!  I asked them if they were on the pill,
and they said yes.  But it was just so that I'd get them in the club, then
I'd have to live with them...."

   I was right next to him still, and I moved my hand down over his belly
and onto his crotch, still on top of the sweat pants.

   "I do think I detect a bit of interest, Alex...."

   "No, I couldn't.  You'd slap me, or hurt me, or something."

   I reached into the bedside cabinet and got out the cuffs I keep there
for clients who enjoy a feeling of total helplessness.  I snapped one on to
one wrist, pushed the other around the bar on the behead, and snapped the
other closed on my other wrist.

   "There.  Helpless.  Unless you let me out with the key in the bedside
cabinet, I'm stuck here."

   I was reminded somehow of the scene when I'd fucked Joe that time all
those years ago, with his nose ring locked to the bed.

   Alex got out of bed and stripped the duvet off, and looked down at my
body.

   "You're in fantastic shape, mate."

   "Yes.  I get paid a lot to look like this.  Most of my clients would
shell out a lot of money for what you're about to take for free.  And they
wouldn't get to use my arse, not like you..."

   Something changed in Alex almost as I watched.  He stripped the T and
sweat pants off, and he was erect!

   I don't know how his girl friends rated him, but as a fucker of men he
left a lot to be desired - he didn't bother with any lube, or anything,
just went straight in at me: I'd never do that to another bloke.  I wanted
to scream a bit as it actually hurt as he thrust home, but gritted my teeth
as I didn't want to scare Alex or put him off his stroke.  But mercifully
it didn't last long, as he shot almost immediately.

   "OK, Alex?"

   "Ray...  That was....  OK."

   "Good.  Now let me out of these things...."

   "Oh no...  I'm in charge, remember....."

   He pulled the duvet up over both of us and started to play with my body
- pulling at my nipples, squeezing my balls, skinning my foreskin back... I
was soon shouting and laughing with the pain and the pleasure.  And the
louder I was, and the more I wriggled and squirmed to try to escape Alex's
hands and teeth, the more he seemed to be enjoying it.

   It's horrible, actually, to have to spend the whole night with your
hands cuffed above your head, but I had to - I had no choice really as they
were proper police cuffs and there was no way I could break them.  And in
spite of my pleading, Alex refused to get the key out.

   Alex slept like a child, though, pressed close to me, and I moved as
little as I could to avoid waking him - the poor guy looked as if he needed
a good rest.  I don't suppose that with that nagging bitch and the whiny
kid he often got a good night's sleep.

   In the morning he let me go, and we lay there.

   "Christ, Ray, what did I do?"

   "You enjoyed sex, Alex.  You enjoyed sex in a way that I don't suppose
you've enjoyed it for a long time."

   We showered together, all embarrassment having evaporated from Alex. 
Then he wanted to fuck me again!

   "No, Alex.  I told you, I don't take it up the arse."

   I thought he was going to revert to his mood of depression again, but he
just smiled, and said "We'll see about that, as things develop...."

   I can't tell you how things are going to work out in the long term. 
After I went with Alex to see his cow of a girl friend, and he realised she
really had only used him to get a kid, he looked pretty miserable.  But we
spent the afternoon in bed (the loss of clients was costing me a fortune,
but, who cares?) He cheered up - we didn't fuck, as I would not let him
fuck me, and I didn't ant to revive old memories by fucking him.  But a
very large quantity of cum was spilled as we wanked, kissed, and generally
enjoyed each other's bodies.  He said he was going to leave them all behind
- the women, the kids - but I persuaded him that he needed to keep in touch
with the kids - all boys - as they'd need a father to teach them all about
proper man to man sex, otherwise they might wind up like Alex had been.

   That night as we lay together, I told Alex my plan.  I'd pay for him to
go and live at Steve and Joe's for three months - they'd get his body back
into shape, and "educate" him on how men truly enjoy sex.  He'd come back
to London with them on their next trip, when Steve, Joe and I were due to
make our next film together.  "Who knows", I said, "We might do a sequel to
the one great one we all four did together!"

   They're all due at Heathrow tomorrow.  I'm so excited.  I've got to stop
writing - I'm so hard thinking about them that it's hurting and I need to
wank.

   THE END