Chapter 1

1

Jordan knew he was close. He could feel a tingling in his spine and his balls starting to tighten. He tried to hold off. Kent was supposed to cum first. That was how the director wanted it to come-off. Jordan slowed his thrusts, paused between them, closed his eyes, and tried to think of anything but shooting his load—food…his unpaid bills…his cranky grandmother.

At that moment, Kent moaned, “Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum!”

Relieved he didn’t have to hold off any longer, Jordan opened his eyes and looked down lovingly at Kent, who, with legs spread wide and impaled on Jordan’s cock, was spewing ropes of creamy, white cum all over himself.

Jordan pulled out, tore off the rubber, tossed it aside, and stroked. It took only seconds before he, too, was emptying his own load of spunk onto Kent’s rippled abs. When he was spent, Jordan reached down, scooped up some of their mingled jizz, and fed it to Kent. Then Jordan lowered himself into Kent’s embrace and kissed him, grinding his body against the man he’d just fucked. After a brief time, Jordan rolled off to the side and smiled at Kent. Kent smiled back. Then the pair looked expectantly into the camera.

“Great, guys! You were a little quicker than I’d hoped, but still great!” the director called out. “We’re gonna keep rolling. Get up, stay in character, and walk to the shower real slow.”

Jordan complied. He rose from the bed and pulled Kent up into a hug, kissing him tenderly. They walked with arms around each other’s waists. Jordan fondled Kent’s generous, bubble butt as they went from the bedroom to the bathroom. The cameraman followed. Kent and Jordan entered the glass enclosed shower.

Once under the lukewarm spray, they hugged, kissed, and ran hands over their bodies, then began to wash each other with liquid soap. When they were covered with lather and in a tight embrace, the director called, “Cut.”

Kent gave Jordan a slap on the ass. They rinsed off and turned off the shower. They stepped out and were handed towels by an assistant. As they dried off, the director came over to congratulate them.

“You guys did a great job. Really looked like you were into each other. I bet it’s gonna be a great seller. Can’t believe you just met today. You’ve got a real connection—real chemistry. Not like some of these bozos who think because they got a nine inch dick, they don’t have to act. I want to use the two of you again. We’ll be in touch.”

Kent nodded enthusiastically at Jordan.

Jordan smiled.

They made their way to the dressing room. As they began to get dressed, Kent said, “It was great working with you. When I saw we were gonna be paired up, I watched a couple of your videos. After seeing you in action, I was really glad we’d be working together. It’s easy to make it look real with someone as hot as you. Some of these guys I’ve been paired with…well, it takes pot and extra Viagra to pull it off.”

Jordan smiled again.

Kent put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “If you’re not busy, how about going out for drinks and dinner?”

“Thanks, but I have plans.”

“Okay. Maybe another time?”

Jordan nodded. “Maybe.”

A while later Jordan Hearst left the Real Romance Studios’ parking lot and headed for home 2

Spenser Hudson stood next to the stove, stirring the simmering marinara sauce. Henrietta, a miniature schnauzer, sat at his feet. She impatiently shifted from one foot to another and whined.

“Daddy Jordan’ll be mad at me if I give you anything,” Spenser said, smiling down at the little dog. “The vet told him you have to take off some weight. Daddy said I’m making you fat because I can’t resist you. Well, he’s right. You’re so gosh darn cute.”

Spenser bent and took the pup’s face in his hands and gave her a kiss on the nose. He straightened up and turned back to stirring the sauce.

Henrietta whined again, then gave a sharp, demanding yip.

Spenser grimaced, then smiled. He pulled a strand of spaghetti from a colander on the counter with a fork. “Okay, but if Jordan finds out and I get in trouble…”

He held the treat up over the little dog’s head. “Sit up!” he said. Henrietta sat up on her haunches and waved her paws.

Spenser dropped the spaghetti. Henrietta caught it.

“Good girl,” he said.

“Anybody home?” Jordan sang out from the living room.

Spenser jumped. “Crap!”

Henrietta barked and ran for the door.

“Remember. Don’t tell,” Spenser called softly after her as he followed her out of the kitchen.