Party Animal (Roosters 6)

“Suck me tender.”

“Hey dumbass, I’m the boss here. If you didn’t have a big shlong, you wouldn’t get any screen time.”

I picked up the towel and covered up my biggest asset. “Jealous much?”

Max looked like he was ready to blow steam but he clenched his jaw and nodded toward the king-sized bed. It was all decked out in white linen, the better to show off our tanned bodies. “I want you and Joey to do a fast run through, no sex, before we start filming.”

“Time is money,” I said, throwing his own words back at him. “I don’t need to rehearse.”

“Says you. Did you even read the script?”

“Course I did. Masturbate first, and then Joey walks in and gives me a hand. It’s not rocket science.” It was an easy scene. I could do it in my sleep. I never have a problem getting hard, especially when I know somebody’s watching.

“Okay Mr. Motherfucking-Know-It-All, do your thing.”

I sat on the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

Max spit out one word. “Action.”

I started rubbing my cock through the material of the towel. After a minute, I flung open the towel and let my dick take a bow. It was stiff and begging for attention but I ignored it. Slowly I ran my hands down my chest, tweaking my nipples until they were erect. It didn’t take long. My hot buttons are super sensitive. A delicious warmth spread through my groin. It was time to give my prick some attention. I gave it a few easy strokes, taking my time so I could show off my body. Occasionally I glanced at the camera with a smoldering gaze. Then I started jerking off in a steady rhythm.

Nobody knows my hot spots like I do. It didn’t take long for my breathing to speed up. My balls drew up tight and I knew I was close. Where the heck was Joey? He should have been here by now. I wanted to give him a cum shower. Max was a shit director. One day I’d direct my own films. I tried to hold off, but my cock was throbbing. Fuck it. I was too close. One more hard stroke and I hosed myself down with a massive cum load.

White cream covered my chest, up to my neck and under my chin. I groaned, scooped some up with my fingers and licked them clean. I knew I looked hot as hell.

“Cut!” Max stood over me, hands on hips. “I tell you when to come.”

“You can’t hold back momentum, Max.” One of these days I’ll quit mouthing off, but not today. “If you could get it up, you’d know that.”

If looks could kill I would have died right then, but Max couldn’t touch me. I was golden. Nobody made the studio more money than I did.

“Face it, Max. I know what my audience wants and I give it to them. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“Get over yourself, princess. You’re a fucking porn actor. There’s a thousand more waiting to take your place.”

As usual, Paul, the cameraman and peacemaker, tried to diffuse the situation. “This is good stuff, Max. The guys will eat it up.”

Max gave him a disgusted look and turned back to me. “You got anything left for Joey?”

“Does a tin man have a stainless steel cock?”

Everybody laughed except Max. Fuck him. He turned his back, but not before he took another long look at my chest. I smiled as I lay back against the pillows. Look all you want, Max, but you’ll never get your hands on this body. But I knew he’d take the film home and masturbate to it all night.

“Hey, Cox.”

My head jerked up at the sound of Joey’s voice. People tend to think that porn stars don’t have real lives. They think that, given the nature of what we do for a living, we must be emotionally detached and incapable of having a real relationship. That’s only partly true. While I don’t have, need, or want, a significant other, I have my sister, Julie, and my best friends, Joey and Paul.

Joey is not only a friend, he’s also a great costar. He’s a lean six feet, with short spiky blond hair and brown eyes. The dude is practically hairless while I sport a sexy trail of dark hair that leads to a well-manicured bush. The camera loves the contrasts between us, and so do the guys who buy our videos. We spend so much time together, it was only natural we’d become buddies.

Grinning, Joey sat on the bed. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Casey?” He started wiping my chest with a warm, wet cloth.