Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2004 15:09:53 +0000
From: Moore
Subject: When The Time Is Right - Part 5

WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT
BY:  MOORE

PART 6

Chapter 21

Time flies when you're having fun and fun was what I was having in
the summer of 1964.  Washington Baths one day a week for a late
night of sucking and fucking with Sandy and the other fags on the
staff.  Max was paying me directly now, an increase to fifty bucks
a week for being his fehgalah and taking good care of his elderly
friends too.

The money was troubling to me at first.  Boy whores around Times
Square sold themselves, sucked dick and got fucked for money, but I
rationalized. I didn't ask to be paid and would have gladly serviced
Max and the other old queers for free. Therefore, I wasn't a whore.
A fag? Yes. A cum eating cocksucker? Absolutely. A pussy boy?  One
look at my not so pink pucker and you wouldn't have to ask. But I
wasn't a whore, a boy prostitute like the boys who sold their
services around Times Square.

Mitch, whenever he wanted to use my mouth, was a dream to suck off
with his great big hairy cock and his huge loads of sperm.  Stuart
was Stuart, a pain in the butt. Not that I'd ever let him fuck me,
or Mitch either.  Well, maybe Mitch if I could get ever him alone.
Stuart was still on his macho-man power trip, calling me a faggot
cocksucker, making me suck him off only from my knees and only if I
was completely naked.  Kissing his ugly dick and smelly balls, even
taking his piss was fine. Making me beg, not only to suck his cock,
but beg him to cum in my mouth rather than waste his load on my face
was a waste of time better spent on the blow job itself.

Circumstances might change when high school started in September,
but for now it appeared that neither Mitch or Stuart had told anyone
else that I was a fag and a cocksucker.  At least none of the
neighborhood boys were avoiding me or laughing at me or giving me
funny looks when we got together to play ball. No one had taken me
aside and asked for a blow job and there were a number of cute boys,
friends of mine who wouldn't have had to ask very hard.

Father Peter and his newly ordained nephew, Paul, were due back from
Rome in a couple of weeks.  The three of us had a date to meet at
the church on the 16th of August.  "To pray," Father Peter had
written on the postcard with the picture of Michelangelo's famous
statue of David...the naked statue of David. I'll be on my knees and
naked, just like I was on the day they left.  Father Peter will be
praying for me to open wider so that he and Paul can both get more
of their dicks in my mouth. The double load of cum will be worth the
effort.

Things at home couldn't have been better unless Mark moved into my
room on a permanent basis.  Incredibly, my mother and Mr. Levine
were dating.  They were staying out late most every night; which
meant the house was empty, which meant Mark and I could get naked
and party without the fear of being discovered by our respective
parents. It also meant that he was staying over to keep me company.
Mark was spending nights with me, in my room and in my bed, we were
sleeping together...naked.

It was the last week in July, our parents had just left for the
evening when Mark dropped his pants and a bombshell. "They're
sleeping together, Steven!  My father and your mother are having sex
at my house!"

"They're what!?  How do you know?"

"I found a used condom and foil wrapper floating in the toilet bowl
at home. A Sheik pre lubricated, same brand my father keeps in his
night table. Sperm was still inside...pretty good load too."

"Maybe it was Cindy's," I said, grasping his cock, but unable to
grasp the idea that my mother was having sex with a man.  And not
just any man...Mark's father.

"My sister, no way. Cindy's on the pill so she doesn't need a rubber
to fuck one of her guys and she wouldn't use one for a blow job.
Must run in the family because she likes a guy to cum in her mouth
as much as I do.  Speaking of which, are you planning on getting
undressed before or after you blow me?

I stripped slowly, thinking about my mother and also about the time
I had fucked Lorraine, my first time with a girl.  Remembering the
revelation, the awesome truth I thought I had discovered that night
and thinking how naive I was back then only a few months ago.  Of
course women liked sex. What's not to like?  Intercourse, fucking
was one thing, but my mother?

"Do you think they have oral sex?" I said, falling to my knees in
front of Mark. A mental picture forming of my mother naked and on
her knees in front of Mr. Levine, his penis inches from her face
much like Mark's penis was in front of mine. Her hands on his
balls...

"Who?"  Mark teased, playfully running his dick around my lips.

"What do you mean, who? Our parents. My mother, your father. Do you
think my mother..."  I paused to lick away a drop of precum, "...my
mother is sucking your father's cock?"

"So what if she is," Mark said, sliding his hardon into my mouth.
"Knowing my father...shit, I gotta go.  You mind?"

"Mmmmm," I mumbled, backing off Mark's dick, keeping just the head
clenched between my lips while he slowly emptied his bladder.

Mark was right of course, as he usually is about so many things. So
what if my mother was having sex, fucking and sucking and doing
whatever she wanted to do with Mark's father or any man. Who was I
to be critical, to judge my mother or judge anyone else for that
matter?

Mark let out a sigh of relief. "Guys like us could put American
Standard out of business."

Me judge another person's behavior? Me, a teenage faggot who drank
piss and enjoyed it, a cocksucker who'd spent the afternoon on his
knees in a Times Square glory hole servicing anonymous horny guys on
the other side of the wall for the fun of it, a pussy boy with an
itch so deep inside my boy cunt that it could only be scratched by
bending over for any big hard dick that wanted to fuck me. Ridicule
and scorn is what I faced every day as a queer boy. Tolerance and
understanding, if I wanted it from others I had to give it in
return.

I felt cleansed and refreshed as I swallowed the final squirt of
Mark's warm urine.  My conscience was clear and untroubled as Mark
boned up again in my mouth.  With my hands on his ass and my nose in
his pubic hair, I began to suck the cock I knew so well.

~~~~
"My father wouldn't make your mother blow him so if she's doing it,
I'm not saying she is, but if she's giving him head then she's doing
it because she wants to. And he's such a gentleman...you can be sure
he doesn't call her a cocksucker."

We were still laughing five minutes later, giggling like little kids
when the phone rang.  It was a brief conversation.

"That was your father."

"The stud?"  Mark said, which started us laughing all over again.
"What did he want?"

"Nothing.  Probably called to make sure we were still here before he
and my mother hop into the sack."  I was laughing so hard my sides
hurt, and tears were streaming down my cheeks.  "We going to let
them have all the fun?  "C'mon, Mark, let's fuck," I said, reaching
for the lube.

"Not so fast, Steven. I'm sucking you first tonight, get your big
load in my mouth before I fuck you. Just because you can suck your
own dick and cum in your own mouth, doesn't mean you have to do it.
Eating your own sperm last night was a selfish thing to do."

I can lick my balls too, like a dog, a neat skill Sandy taught me
the first time we fucked.  The old queers at Washington Baths get a
real kick watching me suck my own while the guys take turns in my
upturned ass.  Max wants to film me doing it so he can watch me when
I'm not around. He knows a man with a studio in the Village who can
do it. I told Max I'd think about it.

"I'm sorry about last night.  You were fucking me so good, I only
just licked the tip a few times and I came."

"I felt your ass squeezing my dick.  Must have been one hell of a
load I missed out on."

"Yeah, it was big," I said, hopping off the bed and wiggling my ass
in Mark's face. "My loads have been getting bigger and I'm cumming
with more force too since I started taking cock up my ass."

"I've noticed and my mouth thanks you," Mark said as he spread my
cheeks and slid into me in one long easy stroke.  I've also noticed
that your sperm is thicker and the taste is stronger, more intense."

"Giving up my ass, becoming a pussy boy is the best decision I've
made since I realized...oh god, Mark, your dick feels so good in
me...since I realized I was a faggot and decided to become a
cocksucker."

"Yeah, well, Mitch Greer sort of helped you "decide" to become a
cocksucker.  I only helped you with the fag part, Steven.  Watching
you bone up looking at pictures of naked African boys in National
Geographic made me think, hope that maybe you were queer like me. I
was so hot for you...so turned on.  If Larry wasn't there that day
I would have followed you into the bathroom and queer or not I would
have sucked you off right then.

"And I would have let you do it," I said, watching the precum ooze
from the tip of my dick, and thinking how strange it was to be
having a normal conversation with my best friend's cock lodged up my
ass.

"You lost that last hand on purpose, didn't you, when we played
strip poker a few days later?"

"Guilty, your honor.  I wanted you to see me naked to get you hot.
When Larry chickened out and it was just you and me playing, Steven,
I had to be the one to lose my clothes first. When you let me peel
off your shorts, when I saw your body, I had to feel you, smell you,
bury my face in your balls."

Mark began to pump me harder.  "You certainly did all that."

"And it was fantastic, Steven, but not nearly enough. I wanted your
dick in my mouth. I wanted, no, I had to suck your cock."

"And then your sister came home."

"She's not here now," Mark bellowed, pulling out of my ass and
pushing me towards the bed.  "Fuck my face, Steven, I'll finish with
your ass later."

He did.  Fucked me three times, in fact, before he fell asleep naked
and sweaty in my bed.  The blow job that came first was a classic,
the kind of head only a fag can give and only to a boy he really
cares for. Mark used all of his ample skills on my dick and balls,
nearly driving me out of my mind in the process. I rewarded his
efforts with more sperm than even an experienced cocksucker like
Mark could swallow. We used the overflow of thick slippery cum to
lubricate my ass for his cock.

Mark slept soundly cuddled against me with his arm across my chest.
I dozed on and off, still basking in the afterglow of our coupling
and the smell of sex that hung heavy in the air. A hard dick in my
mouth right then; one more lazy blow job, one more blast of sperm
would have been heaven. I settled for the cum, Mark's cum, that was
leaking out of my well fucked and well filled pussy.  Mark was
proving himself to be a surprisingly forceful top to my submissive
bottom.  We both liked to suck, but Mark was no pussy boy.  Unlike
me, a fag who would bend over and spread'em for almost anyone, Mark
didn't let anybody fuck him.

~~~~

I didn't hear the front door open or the footsteps on the carpeted
steps. But I did hear their voices.

"That's Steven's room, Harry. Mine is down the hall."  My mother's
voice in the hall outside my room was the only warning I had that
she was home and by then it was too late.

"I'll just peek in, Mary, see if the boys are asleep. Why don't you
slip into something more comfortable."

Mr. Levine!  Holy shit!  Mark was snuggled up against me. I couldn't
move. And the covers were underneath us. The door opened, silence
and then a gasp.

"What's the matter Harry?" My mother whispered in response to Mr.
Levine's loud gasp.  "Are the boys okay?"

It took a moment for the other shoe to drop, during which time my
sleeping bedmate decided to move his hand from my chest to my balls.
"Oh my, Harry. They're both stark naked! And what is that smell?"

My bedroom door clicked shut, but I heard them talking in the hall
just the same.

"I don't understand, Harry.  Why would our boys sleep together
naked?  And Mark's hand...

"Mary, sweet innocent Mary, I guess it's time we had a little talk.
There are things I should tell you...should have told you sooner
about my son. There are also things you evidently don't know about
yours. You see, Mary, Mark is a homosexual, has been for years. You
better make some coffee, it's a long story."

Chapter 22

"Did you hear what I said? Your father came into the room last
night, Mark.  My mother too. They saw us...in the bed together,
naked."

Mark, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, was unconcerned. "So what?
How about that shower?"

"I heard them talking, he told her that you were a homosexual. God
only knows what he said to her about me and all you can say is let's
take a shower?"

"I'm a fag, I woke up horny. You're a fag. I feel like fucking you
in the shower."

"You're joking, right?  My mother's downstairs with your father, I
think he stayed the night.  She's gonna be up here the minute she
hears us moving around, ready to kill me and you want to fuck me?"

"Sure, why not?  You're still a fag...same as you were yesterday and
same as you'll be tomorrow."

"Steven, honey, Mark. Breakfast in a half hour, boys. There's two
clean towels in the bathroom for your shower. Hurry, I'm making
waffles."

"Sounds like your mother, huh, making breakfast in the kitchen? The
woman who's going to kill you?  When she gonna do it, huh, after you
eat your waffles? She doesn't sound very angry to me."

"No she doesn't," I had to admit.  "And she only makes waffles on
special occasions."

"This is a special occasion," Mark said with a laugh.  "It's not
every day a mother finds out her son is a fag.  Hey, c'mon, cheer
up.  Did you think you could hide it from her forever?"

"I don't know, I never really thought about it."  Truth is I had
thought about it, worried about what I would do, what I would say if
my mother found out about me.  My father killed in the line of duty,
one son killed in Viet Nam, another son stationed in Germany and her
youngest son a fag. How much pain and sorrow could a person live
with?

"Jesus, Steven, with all the guys you've been with it was sure to
come out eventually. At least she found out from my father who knows
what it's like to have a fag son, rather than from some stranger."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right...have I ever been wrong?"  You'll see, it'll
work out okay for you same as it did for me. You've been liberated,
Steven...now let's use those towels your mother put out for us."

Yet again Mark proved to be right. My mother hugged me and Mark too
when we came down to breakfast, said she was okay with my choice,
and asked Mark if he was staying over again tonight.  Whatever Mr.
Levine said to her had worked like magic.  Mark was right, I had
been liberated from subconscious guilt and fear of discovery and on
a lighter note, liberated from my Fruit of the Looms.

Later in the week, after he fucked me in the shower for the third
morning in a row and we were getting dressed, Mark said it was time
to give up my Fruits.

"What, no underwear?"

"Not that kind.  You still have the posing strap, don't you?  Wear
that until we get to Sebbe's place later and we'll pick out some new
stuff.  I have to meet a guy on 125th Street at noon so let's meet
up at Sebbe's around one."

Sebbe, I knew, had boxes full of colorful underwear from low cut
bikini's and snug fitting boxers, to jock socks and thongs. Fagwear,
Mark called it, the kind of underwear that only a queer would wear.
The kind Mark wore. The kind of underwear I wanted to wear, but
hadn't wanted my mother to find in the laundry or in my dresser. Now
that she knew I was queer and was okay with it, it didn't much
matter what I wore.

"Yeah, okay, Sebbe's at one, but I might be a little late if the
filming takes more than an hour. I wish you'd come with me to the
Village instead of going to Harlem to get more pills.  What is it
this week?  Uppers, downers? Green, red, yellow?"

"Pink uppers," Mark said with a smile and a wink. "Special color for
cocksuckers like you who can't get it up."

"Go ahead and make jokes.  I'm worried and you make jokes."

"Loosen up, Steven.  It's not like I'm using heroin. Oh, can you
lend me ten bucks?"

"No," I said with a smile and a wink of my own. "I won't lend you a
dime, but bend over and spread your cheeks, faggot...I'll give you
ten bucks for a piece of your ass."

What was meant as a joke became a test of Mark's willingness to sell
his ass for the money to buy drugs.  I wouldn't have fucked him if
I had seen the tears in his eyes, but I didn't so I did, fuck him
doggy style that is...and gave him one extra dollar for licking my
cock and balls clean.  The trips to Harlem continued on a regular
basis, but he never again asked me for any money.

~~~~

"You're really going to do it?" Mark asked as we boarded the train
to Manhattan."

"Yeah, I think so. It's not like I'm making a porno film.  One copy
for Max and his gay friends to watch when the summer's over. The old
guys gets such a thrill out of watching me suck my dick...I finally
gave in and agreed to do it for him."


We rode in silence for a while, Mark fidgeting next to me each time
the train hit a rough patch of track.  "How's your ass?" I whispered
in his ear even though the car was empty.

"Fine."

I knew better and the guilt was gnawing at my gut.  "I'm sorry,
Mark, really sorry.  I shouldn't have fucked you. I'm the pussy boy,
not you.  Please forgive me...please.  I'll do anything."

"Anything?  Anything I tell you to do?"

I handed over my clothes and rode the rest of the way to Manhattan
sitting alone in my posing strap and yellow flip-flops. By the third
station stop I no longer cared that I was practically naked or that
the car was no longer empty. I got quite a few stares and double
takes, but the strap was so faded from washing that COCKSUCKER was
hardly visible unless you got real close to my crotch.

Chapter 23

The studio occupied the entire top floor of a four story walk-up on
Grove Street in the Village. Max had given me the address and the
name of the person to ask for, but he wasn't sure of the name of the
place. I studied the list of company names before opening the door
to what I hoped was the right place.  The same list was on the wall
behind the receptionist.

Adam and Adam & Sons, Inc.
Ballz Incorporated
Coxx Communications
Fagtime Enterprises, Inc.
Fairy Tail Videos Unlimited
Jumping Jock Productions
Man To Man Studios
Queens & Kings Co.
SureShot Partners

"Steven Ryan to see Mr. Preminsky. I have an appointment at twelve."

"Take a seat sweetie, I'll let Otto know you're here."

The receptionist, a boy pretty enough to be a girl, returned in less
than a minute with a cup of coffee in his hand. The long hair,
makeup and polished nails would have fooled most people, but not
another fag.

"Otto will be out shortly, he's just finishing a scene.  Can I get
you a coke or something while you wait, Steven?"

"No thanks. I'm fine."

"Name's Bruce," he said with a wink. "And I think you're more than
fine...I think you're divine.  Oh, you are gay, aren't you?"

I nodded.  So much for one fag trying to fool another.

"Are you here to audition?  We get so many cute boys so don't be too
disappointed if you don't get the part."

"No, no audition, no part," I said quickly and left it at that.

Bruce was a shameless flirt. Kneeling down at my feet to pick up a
paper clip was almost too much.

"Get off your knees, Bruce and get back to work."

A short man waving a big cigar sent Bruce scurrying as he came
striding into the reception area followed by two gorgeous hunks in
jock straps and football jerseys.

"Good work today boys," the short man bellowed.  "We'll do the cum
shots on Friday."

"I could cum again today, Otto," one of the hunks said in a high
pitched voice that didn't match his bulky body.

"Dribbles, maybe, feh.  Remember boys, this is a SureShot production
and the queers who watch my films expect to see cum shots, powerful
spurts of cum...not dribbles.  Listen to me. Go home, rest.  I'll
produce the movie, you boys be ready to produce the sperm on Friday,
and lots of it."

"Steven Ryan to see you, Otto," Bruce said, smoothing his skirt, as
the hunks turned and went back down the hallway. "He has an
appointment."

I stood as Otto strode over to me with a puzzled look on his face.

"Max Klingenstern sent me."

"Speak up boy, I'm a little hard of hearing."

"Max Klingenstern," I repeated. "From Washington Baths?"

"Max, sure. I know Max."

"He called you about making a film?"

"I make lots of films, tapes actually. Can't turn them out fast
enough when the porno market is hot like it is these days."

"A film about me."

"You got the looks for it, blond boys always sell. Are you straight
or queer?"

"Queer, but..."

"I might be able to use you if you don't mind working with negroes.
The colored's like watching a naked white boy on his knees servicing
one of their own.  So you'll suck black dick?"

"Yes, but I'm not here for that," I said quickly and explained why
I had come to his studio.

"Yeah, Max did call a few weeks ago about a special boy...a private
tape he wanted me to make for him.  You'll have to remind me, my
memory and my hearing are fading faster than a hooker's looks."

"That's me."  I lowered my voice, " Max's fehgalah?"

Otto's hearing and memory returned with a vengeance. "Max's new
fag," he boomed. "The fag who can suck his own cock!  Bruce?"

"Yes, Max?"

"How many boys come in here claiming they can suck their own dicks?"


"Six or seven a week,"  Bruce said between giggles. "So much fun to
watch them try."

"A big waste of time. How many can do it?"

"Not many.  Only one boy so far this year and that boy, I measured
it myself, had a ten inch cock. Shame he was so ugly, and the pus
pimples on his balls left marks on my face.  The best most boys can
do is lick the head and cum in their mouths, but very few can
actually give themselves a real blow job."

Otto put his arm around my shoulder and looked me in the eye. "How
big is your dick?"

I would have said thank you and goodbye if I hadn't promised Max.
"Five inches, but I really can blow myself.  Lick my balls too. I
wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

"I believe him, Otto," Bruce said, seemingly in my defense.
"Wilson's not due for a while. Why don't I see what Steven can do
while you review the script? I left it on your desk with the changes
you wanted."

Otto shrugged as Bruce came over and took my hand in his. "Fags," he
chuckled, turning away from the two of us. He paused to relight his
cigar then turned around and said. "Use mouthwash after you finish
seeing what he can do, Bruce. I don't want to smell semen on your
breath."

"Follow me, sweetie," Bruce said once Otto had closed the door to
his office.  Studio Five is a bit shabby, but the bed's okay. I
haven't sucked a five inch dick in ages.  Even the fluffers have to
be at least seven inches in case they're needed to service some over
paid stud who can't get it up on camera without a dick in his ass."

"I really can suck my own cock, Bruce.  Not just cum in my mouth. I
can swallow all five inches and I need you to film me doing it."

"Love the undies,"  Bruce giggled when I dropped my shorts. "My boy
friend and I both wear posing straps too.  His has BIG DICK, mine
has CUM PIG on the pouch.  Wanna see?"

"Maybe after you shoot the film," I said, sitting on the edge of the
bed.  "You do know how to use the camera, right?"

"Betamax system," Bruce replied, holding up the camera. "Easy as
going down on a five inch dick. You want me to lick your balls a
little?  Get you hard?"

"I'll take care of my boner, you take care of getting it on tape.
When I'm done with the blow job, after I cum in my mouth, you can
lick my balls then if you want to."

I flipped my legs over my head as the camera's light came on.  My
sack was nice and loose so I let my balls dangle over my face while
adjusting myself for maximum penile penetration.

"Holy shit!!" Bruce sputtered when he saw my cock sliding into my
mouth.  "Wait!!  Hold it!!  Don't move!! I have to get Otto.  Don't
move, I'll be right back."

Studio One was bigger and better decorated too.  There were three
cameras, on tripods, rather than the single hand held camera in
Studio Five.  Bruce had been banished from the set. Otto had called`
in a production team to shoot my little gift for Max.  Director,
cameraman, soundman, lighting director and a serious, no nonsense
fellow named Clyde who was prodding and poking my body, closely
inspecting every inch and reporting his findings to Otto.

"The skin is perfect, not a blemish," Clyde said. "The hair is like
silk and the blond color will photograph well. Shave his pits and
pubes and with that tiny dick he'll easily pass for a pre-teen."

"Good, Otto said.  "Very good."

"The lips, well, the lips and his knees are what you'd expect to
find on a queer boy who spends a lot of time on his knees with a
dick in his mouth.  Not much you can do about the lips I'm sorry to
say...the effect of extensive cocksucking is irreversible.  The anus
has been penetrated, not roughly, but often. A dab of rouge will
temporarily restore the pink color. The penis is well cut and, as
you can see, hardens quickly under the least bit of stimulation. The
erect shaft is smooth and straight, and see how the nicely rounded
testicles snuggle up underneath? Ejaculation should be sustained and
quite forceful."

Otto seemed pleased when Clyde was done with his poking and
prodding. "Steven, baby," he said. "I'm going to make you famous.
Every queer in New York is going to be jerking off to your tape."

"But the tape is for Max," I protested mildly, wondering how many
queers actually lived in New York.

"Oh, yeah, for Max," Otto said.  "I'll talk to him about that."

"We're ready to roll, Otto," the cameraman called out. "How long is
the scene?"

"Long as it takes and use all three cameras.  We'll edit and add the
usual blow job sound track later.  Boy sucking his own cock, licking
his nuts...it'll be  worth the expense.  How about it, Steven baby,
ready to blow yourself, suck that baby dick of yours and give me a
cum shot to remember?"

"Places everybody," the director shouted. "Quiet on the set. Lights,
and roll tape, aaannnd action."

I gave myself one great blow job.  Head, shaft and nuts all got a
thorough workout. I gave Otto the cum shot he wanted too. It was my
idea to open my sperm-filled mouth for the camera before swallowing
my load.  I got a round of applause from the crew as soon as the
director said cut.

I was still naked on the bed when Bruce returned, followed by the
biggest and blackest man I had ever seen.

"Wilson was getting impatient, Otto," Bruce said. "Okay if he comes
in?"

"Sure, sure," Otto said.  "Wilson, baby, sorry to keep you waiting.
We'll be ready for your scene in a minute or two...soon as your fag
partner shows up.  You been saving up those baby makers like I told
you?"

"I ain't cum or took a bath for three days, Otto. Take a look, my
balls is about ready to explode and the shit built up in my foreskin
is ripe."

Wilson had a club between his legs. A black club and a set of balls
that made me feel envious of the cocksucker, whoever he was, who was
going to service that jaw breaker piece of meat and take a three day
load of cum. I gathered my stuff, ready to dress and head uptown to
meet Mark when Bruce quietly said that the fag wasn't coming.

"He called in sick, Otto.  I forgot to tell you."

"You forgot to tell me!"  Otto bellowed at Bruce.  "Forgot to tell
me you fucking good for nothing...Get your clothes off, Bruce. My
biggest star is here to finish his film and that's what we are going
to do.  I need a boy, a cocksucker for Wilson's scene and your the
only one I've got."

"Oh no, not me," Bruce whined.  "No way."

Wilson took a step toward Bruce. "Wazza matter queer boy?  You
'fraid to suck my..."

Bruce fled and Otto, after a moment of silence, slowly turned to me.

"Steven, baby," Otto said warmly, his arm going around my shoulder.
"Let me introduce you to Wilson."

The scene was easy according to Otto and it paid a hundred bucks. A
simple blow job, maybe five or ten minutes of sucking Wilson's
massive black dick and taking his load on my face. Mine was the only
speaking part, lame as it was.

"PLEASE SIR, I WANT TO SUCK YOUR COCK, ONLY PLEASE SIR, PLEASE DON'T
CUM IN MY MOUTH."

Otto had me practice my lines over and over until I got just the
right tone in my voice.

"You're playing the part of a submissive teenage fag, Steven," Otto
explained. "A queer boy from the south who loves to suck black
cocks, the bigger the better. But, and here's the irony of the
entire film, you like to suck black dick but you it hate when a
black man cums in your mouth."

Otto laughed when he saw the puzzled look on my face.  "Yeah, I
know," he said. "You fags really like cum squirting into your mouth,
but just follow the script, okay.  Wilson's going to cum all over
your face.  You got that, Wilson? On his face, not in his mouth."

Wilson nodded and took off the rest of his clothes.  Naked, he was
gorgeous. A body that spent a lot of time working out in a gym. His
upper body was smooth, hairless and his light brown nipples stood up
like erasers, contrasting nicely against his coal black skin. I knew
exactly where my mouth was going first when the cameras started to
roll.

We did a quick run through, then took a short break to allow
Wilson's substantial erection to subside.  Ten minutes later he was
ready. Otto had agreed that I could start with his nipples and lick
my way down his rock hard body as I drifted down to my knees.

"Kiss his balls first, Steven," Otto instructed...like I wasn't a
fag and didn't know how to service a hot stud. "Now lick the shaft
and his balls, nice and slow. Stop when you get to the head, kiss
the tip a few times then look up, bat your eyes and say your line
before you take him in your mouth and start to suck."

My performance was flawless, submissive fag all the way, though I
did ad lib some by licking Wilson's pungent arm pits after doing his
nipples, and taking each of his sweaty balls in my mouth instead of
just kissing them. Wilson was good too, very good. A pro at using my
cocksucking mouth and throat, going in deep without making me choke
and ruining the scene.

"The kid's good, Otto," someone said behind my back.  "Hell of a
cocksucker.  Wouldn't mind a go at that mouth when the shoot is
over."

It's hard to smile with a dick thrusting between your lips so I
beamed inwardly at the compliment.

"He is good," Otto replied.  I like the way he's bobbing his head to
meet Wilson's thrusts and how his hands are working Wilson's balls
and ass.  And would you look at his hardon? The kid's a natural, a
born cocksucker to keep a stiff dick like that."

Wilson almost blew the scene by blowing his load in my mouth.  He
pulled out after one huge spurt of warm cum though and had plenty
left to leave my face a drippy, sticky, sperm covered mess.

"This fag has the makings of a star," Otto exclaimed when Bruce
returned and begged to lick the cum off my face. "Get his phone
number, I can always use a fresh faced cocksucker."

~~~~

I ended up making three short interracial cocksucker films for Otto
before school started in September. Hardly starring roles, I played
the part of a young schoolboy in each film, an innocent looking
white kid who somehow always managed to wind up on his knees with a
black man's dick in his mouth.  Cocksuckers, I discovered during my
brief career as a wanna be porn star, had it easy.  All I had to do
was suck dick and let a bit of sperm dribble out of my mouth at the
end of the scene.

The real porn stars were the talented black men who had to get it up
on demand, keep it up throughout the endless retakes and on cue,
ejaculate a full load of cum into the cocksucker's mouth.  A limp
dick and premature ejaculation was an occupational hazard that
quickly ended many careers.

The money was terrific, but the hours were long and unless a member
of the film crew wanted head during a break, all I got was one cock
to suck and one load of cum the entire day.

Otto also wanted to cast me as a piss-pig in a raunchy full-length
feature film that was going to be shot on the building's roof top.
Tar Beach it was called and the people who worked in the surrounding
buildings got quite an eyeful when rehearsals began. It was a lousy
part I decided after reading the entire script.  The cum-pig got to
suck the five big dicked stars in the film, he got to eat load after
load of semen. The piss-pig got pissed on and got to drink piss from
their dicks...and in one scene, clean the rim of a filthy urinal
with his tongue. That, plus a big event at home ended my short film
career.