Answering the Ad

I had seen the ad so many times before, had thought about it so many times before. I was 19, it was 2004, people still read words printed on paper.

There was a free weekly I picked up every Monday. Throughout the week, over cups of coffee, or while sitting on the throne, I'd eventually read it cover to cover. It had all the usual stuff: restaurants opening, bands coming to town, movies showing. There were the regular classifieds: apartments for rent, work for hire, hookup scams, or just desperately horny people looking for other desperately horny people. You know, SWF stuff. "Long walks on the beach, glass of wine, maybe more." On the back page it also had adult classifieds. It was mostly things like "1-800-ASS-FUCK", "full body massage", or ads for escorts, strip clubs, sex shops, etc. Although it usually just made me laugh, there were always a few ads that got my imagination going. In fact, as much as I was embarrassed to admit it, there was one ad that always struck my eye.

It was a long, hot, sweaty summer. No job, no girl, and I was young, dumb, and very, very full of cum. Like, up to my head. Like, my brain was figuratively covered in cum, my own cum. The cum factory dangling between my legs was working way beyond storage capacity. My balls were so full of cum I could make myself ejaculate with the detachable shower head, I could bring myself to orgasm in a minute. Sometimes I felt like I was going to cum just from watching porn, or playing with my ass, a delight introduced to me from a busty, kinky ex-girlfriend I often fantasized about. That summer, with self-love the only temporary relief, I was so aroused all the time, so unbearably, insatiably horny, if I could have made myself cum 10 times a day instead of only 3 or 4, my aching cock would have never left my hands.

My mind kept going back to that ad. I knew it word for word. "Young, fit men wanted, professional video shoot, must be open minded, $$$"  I was young, not quite 20, but over 18. I was fit, over six feet tall, thin, with tight muscles all over my body. I knew I wasn't Brad Pitt or something, but I got hit on by women and gay men enough to know I must have at least been easy on the eyes. "Professional video shoot", what did that mean? What kind of videos were they making? I had plenty of experience with girls at that point, had watched plenty of porn, but I was still naive to the ways of the adult world, and I knew it. "Would someone actually want to pay to look at me?... what could they possibly ask me to do that would be all that bad?... is this just standing around in some silk g string?... nude modeling?... could I do that?... it sounds sexy..."

At that point I couldn't stop my mind from making the next logical step, "Is this porn?" I liked the thought of that, no doubt. I would immediately imagine unloading all over some super hot porn star's fantastic breasts, perky little nipples dripping with my cum. Or two women on my cock at the same time, all those lips and tongues, so hot and wet and soft and smooth and slippery, one on my shaft, one on my head, hands all over my balls and ass. I'd innocently worry, would I tragically fall in love with the mesmerizing curves under my fingers? Not understanding how porn is made, I'd get anxious, "how hard it must be to not cum too fast!" How could I keep my cool, my composure? I imagined some scene where I'm pressing the head of my cock against the lips of her tight glistening asshole, my thick shaft finally opening her up, my slippery manhood gliding inside her perfect ass, gripping my throbbing cock tightly, while she begs me to fuck her. Could that be possible, even within my reach, simply by answering this ad? By that point my heart was racing, my blood pressure rising. My cock would grow, start to throb, bulge to the point it would start to push the front pocket of my jeans inside-out, demanding all my attention.

If I wasn't somewhere private enough to masturbate at that point, my mind would continue, albeit slowed down by the pulsating cock full of oxygen rich blood throbbing away in my pants. I couldn't imagine that's how porn was made. Answering an ad in the paper? No way, too easy, too much like a fantasy, it couldn't be real. So what was it then? I assumed it was a scam: they rob you, blackmail you, something along those lines, or worse. "Must be open minded". That seemed like a pretty big clue. Gay porn? I wasn't too excited about that. Or perhaps it was just some sleazy old man building his private smut collection, taking advantage of confused college boys who were totally broke and helplessly horny. "$$$" That was the hook. Even if it was the creepy old guy scenario, as long as he didn't touch me, or more importantly, I didn't have to touch him, I could be "open minded" enough to get paid. Hell, at least it would be something to do, something that didn't cost any money, and that was enticing. I still couldn't help but fantasize, though. What if women make these videos? Or even if it is a guy filming me, would women watch it? That thought *really* turned me on.

I stumbled into the sweaty bathroom that morning, naked, primed for a shower after another hot, sleepless, frustrating night of sexual fantasies and busy hands exploring my body. I figured I should at least try to get serious about masturbation if I wasn't going to get any satisfaction. I was determined to make it as hot as I could. I tried to hold off the inevitable as long as possible, giving my nipples and balls and ass some attention, teasingly neglecting my greedy cock. It made me wonder if that was the kind of thing they asked you to do for the "professional video production".

I decided I might as well shave before showering. I pulled out the electric razor, and absently started on my face. My mind was wandering, how was I ever going to make some money? I was broke, the refrigerator was empty, bills were piling up. That's depressing, let me think of something else. How could I get some pussy? That's more like it. I was horny from the instant I woke up rock hard in the morning until I finally drifted off to sleep at night during some sprawling sex fantasy. About all I knew how to do back then in terms of game was go to the bar, or the club. Give the right looks, say the right words, and hopefully go home with someone. Broke as I was, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Back to the drawing board.

After shaving off my beard stubble, I put on the trimmer attachment. I turned to better see the side of my face, and started leveling off the bottom of my sideburn. In my absent gaze I slowly realized I was staring at myself in the long mirror, on the back of the bathroom door. I chuckled, I looked silly, bent over some, naked, funny expression on my face to stretch it out, make the shaving easier. I put the razor down. I made a funny face and chuckled again. I started to yawn, and stretched out with it, my arms above my head, standing up on my toes. It made my dangling cock jiggle, bouncing a bit between my thighs, getting my eyes' attention. I slowly moved my hips from side to side, twisting my torso, making my cock bounce against my thigh with each turn. I did it a little quicker and harder, really making my cock fly around, slapping my thighs, each spank getting a little bit longer, a little bit thicker. I stopped and was staring at my cock in the mirror now. It was hanging low. Flaccid but long, and thick. It looked big to me. I always assumed I was average, or even a little small. All the girls I'd ever been with made comments on its size, but I decided they were lying to make me feel good. After all, why wouldn't I be average? Aren't most of us, by definition?

I looked at the rest of my body, long wiry arms, stomach flat as a washboard, two little pink nipples, standing out some, hard, even though it was so hot in the room. Long legs with round tight muscles. Big, bony feet, long toes. I twisted and turned around enough to check out my ass. I wondered if anyone had ever thought it was attractive. As much as I lusted after women's asses, I couldn't really understand how a man's ass excited anyone. I bounced on my toes to watch it shake, I spanked it on one side a few times, watched myself flex it a few times, and shrugged. I grabbed each ass cheek and spread my ass wide in the mirror, wondering how exactly my asshole looked. Mostly, it just looked like an ass crack with some blond curly hair. I chuckled again and turned around. I had almost no chest hair, just a little blond treasure trail leading my eyes down to the base of my cock, covered with the same blond curls. Again, my mind went back to the ad, "is this the kind of thing they would have me do?" I imagined myself, just as I was, except with someone watching me, looking me up and down as they photographed me, my naked body, telling me what to do, telling me exactly what to do. How to pose, to show off, how to touch myself. It turned me on. I could feel blood rushing to my penis, an erection was certain. I watched my cock grow in the mirror, each heartbeat lengthening it by an inch, growing thicker, the shaft becoming stiff and full. It was fully erect, heartbeat pounding inside it, standing at attention, ready for action.

As I stood, naked, aroused, nipples and erection rock hard, sweating in the steamy bathroom, I wondered if my cock really was big enough to warrant some of the compliments it received from former users. I checked myself out, turning side to side, making it dance, gripping it with my hands, wrapping all ten fingers around the shaft, making the head bob up and down with each thrust of my hips. "Maybe I'll make myself cum in the shower again", I thought, eyeing the detachable shower head that would slowly tease my cock into ejaculation. A quick glance in the mirror and I noticed I had only trimmed one sideburn. I chuckled again, shook my head, and picked up the trimmer. I turned it on, felt it vibrate in my hand. I looked down and smiled, "like a dildo", I though to myself. I then once again noticed my still-raging erection, cock protruding proudly from a golden rats nest of curls. I also noticed, to my chagrin, that there was dried semen in my public hair, clumping it together from last night's masturbation bonanza. I thought ruefully about how much of a pain in the ass it was getting cum out of my hair, especially that mess of hair, when I realized I had another option in my hand, buzzing away.

In the tall mirror, I looked at the trimmer, looked at my cock, and then looked myself in the face. To hell with it, why not? I started shaving, pressing the vibrating trimmer against my lower stomach, slowly edging curls off, getting closer and closer to my erection. I could see tracts of newly exposed skin, as I slowly mowed the lawn of pubic hair off my body. Eventually I got to the base of my cock, and carefully made my way all around the shaft, trimming off every hair I could find. I could feel the trimmer buzzing against my swollen shaft, tickling, teasing, keeping me rock hard. I was thankful for that because having an erection made it so much easier to completely shave everything smooth. I slowly shaved my balls. They were so heavy and full and tight, like canon balls, waiting to explode from my cock at the slightest provocation. My taint, my inner thighs, my balls, were so sensitive, that the humming of the trimmer actually made me moan and gasp from time to time.

I looked in the mirror. My happy cock was free, standing up in the air throbbing, pulsating, bouncing with each heart beat. I couldn't take my eyes off it, it was so long and thick, manly. Without all that hair down there it really looked huge! "Maybe I do have a porn star cock" I thought to myself in amazement. I gingerly grabbed it by the base, for the first time feeling the naked skin without hair dulling the sensation. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, stunned at how good it felt to have a clean shaved cock. I grabbed my balls. I had never felt them so smooth, they were so soft, so delicate. I spent what felt like an hour watching myself massage them in the mirror, slowly, as my cock stood tall above them, naked, smooth, long, thick, firm, hot, throbbing, head bulging, bobbing up and down with each heart beat.

"This shower is going to feel amazing" I thought to myself, as I reached in to turn the water on. I imagined how it was going to feel all lathered up in this exciting new state. I took a towel and hung it next to the shower door. I saw my ass in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. I didn't think anything about it, then I paused. I had gone that far, why not go all the way? I squatted down low, half hard cock dangling under me, thick and full, drooping over the cool floor tiles. I spread my legs as far apart as I could, I felt my ass spread wide. I nervously grabbed the trimmer, turned it on, and felt the familiar vibration in my hand, shuddering slightly in anticipation. Getting my hand underneath myself I slowly pressed the humming trimmer against the inside of my ass cheek. "I hope this doesn't hurt" I said to the aroused hornball amateur in the mirror. Enough hesitation I thought, and trimmed up and down the entire inside of my ass crack. I saw some curls hit the floor, and I moved the trimmer closer to my asshole, until I felt it buzzing right against my ass lips. I moaned and felt my cock get hard all over again, slowly rising off the floor with each pulse. I did the other side, making my ass crack nice and smooth until finally getting to my tingling, sensitive asshole, trimming it as thoroughly as possible, until my ass crack and asshole, my entire crotch, was as smooth as I could get it. I turned off the trimmer, and not being able to withstand the temptation, I touched myself, running my fingers lightly across the lips of my smooth, shaven asshole. The sensation was amazing, I couldn't believe how good it felt. I stood up, gave myself one more look in the mirror, and hopped in the shower, raging erection bouncing in the air, with a mind of its own.

I made myself cum twice in the shower. The first time took 10 seconds. I was so aroused, I barely had time to masturbate before exploding all over the shower tiles, a backlog of precum dripping down the wall, followed by thick white spurts, and a lot of heavy breathing. The second time was after a long, soapy, sudsy, slippery cock-and-balls massage, feeling the warm shower water fall across my burning aroused body like tropical rain, while eager hands explored my new hair-free territory.

Patting myself dry, I again gazed at my body in the mirror, and again my mind wandered over to the ad in the paper. Maybe they just want to film me jerking off in the shower? I can do that, I'm an expert. I wonder how much it would pay? Will my name be on it, my face? Will someone blackmail me for this later, or use it to take advantage of me? I went back and forth, yes, do it, no, don't. Who cares if it's a guy? I can still imagine it will be women watching me, right? That really got me hot. I wanted to be watched, to have my naked, aroused body gazed upon slowly, I fantasized about a pair of Cleopatra eyes, staring directly at my erection, licking her lips in longing, watching me work my body while attending to her dripping clit. I always loved the idea of being a sex object, feeling eyes all over me, knowing that my body is of interest, an object of desire, a sex tool. "If it's gay sex, I'll just say no, just walk out, how hard is that?" I thought, as I pondered what exactly I was willing to do for sex and money. Slowly rubbing my newly smooth balls dry, watching my exhausted cock bounce around against the towel, I thought, "take a risk for once, life is too short. I need the money, and I'm horny as fuck, all day, all night.  Maybe I've been a fool to wait this long, maybe this is what I've been waiting for? Maybe this will lead to... other things?"

I walked out of the bathroom nude, feeling my cock bounce between my legs, the hot humid air feeling cool on the newly exposed skin. My balls, drained and hanging low, so smooth they stuck to my thighs. My ass felt more naked than it had ever been, I could feel both shaven ass cheeks rubbing together with each step, my entire ass crack tingling with the new sensation. The paper was right there on the table, as I had left it, back page up. There was the ad, right where I knew it would be, the same words, the same physical reaction. I stared at it for a long minute, working up the courage. With a flushed face and racing heart, I picked up my phone and dialed the number. Holding my breath, it started to ring.

"Hello?"

I froze, stunned, mouth agape. It was a woman's voice. A woman! Hello? Wasn't this an office number, a production studio, something "professional"? I tried to speak but nothing came out. I cleared my throat. "Hello?" I asked in return.

My face flushed bright red, I went from confused to embarrassed to ashamed in less than a second, I felt my heart hit the floor.

"Yes, are you calling about the ad?"

My heart leaped from the floor back into its place in my chest. My mind started racing. What to say? Just, "Yes"? How to say it? Try to sound manly, sexy, I thought. Just don't sound like the awkward dork you know you are. And don't sound timid, don't sound like a victim, it might still be some scam. Maybe this is one of those corny horror movies, the type where the audience yells at the screen "Don't do it! Don't go in there!"

"Yes."

I closed my eyes. "Did I just say that? I did, didn't I? Fuck, I must sound like a robot. No, worse, a cop, she'll hang up on me!" I thought. I cleared my throat again, "yes, I am. The one about the professional video shoot?"

"Yes, good", she said.

"It's really happening", I thought. My smile was stretched from ear to ear, I must have looked like I just won the lottery. Standing in disbelief, naked, my spent cock dangling between my legs, I listened in silence, eagerly awaiting her next word.

"So, I assume you meet the requirements, and you're over 18?"

"Yes, ma'am", I said in my deepest, most confident voice. Did I just call her ma'am? Was that stupid or what? Should I be more conversational? Is this the filmmaker I'm talking to right now? Is this really my fantasy coming true?

She chuckled softly, with a bit of a snort mixed in. Was that for the "ma'am", I asked myself?

"Good. Now, I'll need your name and phone number, and we'll have to schedule an interview."

All of a sudden a flood of nervousness washed over me. Name? What do I say? My actual name? Is this the scam? Well, if I want to get paid, I guess I'll need to give them my real name. "Hugh", I said, and gave her my number. "There's an interview?", I asked, with more than a bit of apprehension in my voice.

Again, the sultry chuckle, "Of course. We need to see you meet our requirements in person, verify your age, fill out a few forms, that kind of thing."  

Wow, maybe this really was a professional video shoot after all. Forms? What are those for I wondered.

"Yes, of course, whatever you want."

"Hmm", she murmured before another chuckle, this one a little more of a breathy laugh.

I blushed all over again, what a moron. Whatever you want? Take it easy cowboy.

"So, does next Tuesday work for you? How about noon?"

"Sure, that works." I didn't even have to think about it, I was lonely, bored, unemployed and definitely free.

"Bring a photo ID."

"Should I bring anything else?"

"No, that's all." She gave me the address, all business. No flirting with her over the phone, that was for sure. "Good, Hugh. We look forward to seeing you then."

I stood in shock, I couldn't believe I really did it, it was really happening. Did she say "we"? I wondered who else would be there.

I tried to maintain composure. I summoned my sexiest breathy baritone and said, "So do I."

She paused silently for a moment, then hung up. I laughed at myself, did I really just say that? Did I really just sign up for some strange sexual adventure I had no way to prepare for? Did I really just make a gigantic ass out of myself? I was certain the answer to all those questions was a firm yes.

I hung up the phone, silencing the droning dial tone. I stared off in the distance with my brain full of explicitly sexual thoughts, fantasies, wondering what lay in store for me, for my body, for my cock, for all that cum my balls were so busy producing. This is going to be interesting, I thought. Maybe even fun.

Waiting for Tuesday felt like waiting for Christmas as a young child. The closer it got the more excited I got. I masturbated furiously, unable to keep my hands off myself. My strategy for the interview Tuesday was to watch a ton of porn all morning but not let myself masturbate. I thought maybe it would be best if I was as horny as I could possibly be. I didn't know what was in store for me, I needed to be cocked and loaded, ready for anything.

I wondered who would be there. Would she be there? Was she the director or just the secretary? Will they ask me to undress, will they want to see my naked body? What if I strip naked for them and I'm erect? Would that be embarrassing, wrong? Is that what they want? Will they make fun of my cock, is it too small? I worried that they wouldn't approve of my shaved genitalia but there was nothing I could do about that now. Might as well shave right before going, I thought. Go all in, there's no turning back.

I wondered what I should wear, how should I act. Something sexy? Do I have anything sexy? Should I be coy, let them take advantage of me, to ensure they know I'm open to my body being used for sex? Should I be confident, volunteer what I want, what I'm willing to do? I'd hate to show up for all of this, fantasy in hand, and then they think I'm not ready for the real thing. I wanted them to understand that I was both able and very willing.

Slow down stud, they probably just want you to stand there, making pouty faces. Maybe they'll ask you to unbutton your shirt, at the most. You're probably the only one who wants you to get naked and be watched while you service yourself. They might not ask you to do anything at all, outside of sign a form, like that woman on the phone said. It seemed like a lifetime ago, giving her my name, signing up for this fantasy, imagining her telling me what to do, how to look, how to touch myself, how to make myself cum, all while watching me with hungry eyes, and a camera. It would give me an erection every time I thought about it.

I must have masturbated all day long every day that weekend, I couldn't keep my cock out of my hands. I kept shaving myself clean, groping myself in the shower, massaging my balls, fingering my ass, stroking my cock with both hands, dripping lube all over. I would make myself cum on things, like that tall mirror in the bathroom. Watch myself work my cock, fucking my fists until splattering the mirror all over, watching it drip down slowly, cock throbbing, chest heaving. Or I would cum all over some gorgeous porno mag nymph showing me her enchanted breasts for that very reason, covering the page, covering her, covering the kitchen table I laid the magazine down on.

I had watched enough porn to know they might ask me to do something like that, to cum on something, I wanted to practice, be good at it. I tried to train myself to know exactly when it would happen, to aim my cock, how to coax the cum out of my cock for maximum effect. I would watch myself cum in the mirror, try to keep a straight face, look cool, look sexy, look manly. I wanted to look like I knew what I was doing.

Finally, mercifully, Tuesday morning arrived. I awoke early, unable to sleep. I made myself a pot of coffee, and queued up the porn I wanted to watch. Sitting sprawled out on the sofa, naked, erect, cock thumping away in my hand, watching those amazon women work a penis like sex goddesses, magical breasts bouncing along to the cock thrashing they were taking, I brought myself to the edge of cumming, over and over, feeling the tingling precum making its way through my shaft, until I couldn't take anymore and to pull my hands away.

The morning went quicker than I imagined it would. I took a cool shower to calm down from the porn fueled edging session. I cleaned myself as thoroughly as possible. I shuddered to think what would happen if I had anything less than a pristine ass. I lathered it, soaping up my ass cheeks, 10 fingers gliding up and down my ass crack, cock rock hard and pulsating in the falling water. I gently worked a finger tip in my asshole, pulling on the lips in a circle, getting it squeaky clean, making sure I wouldn't be embarrassed by anything hiding there, exposed to the camera for eternity. I imagined it was a woman's tongue exploring me while bathing my naked aroused body. I shaved everything one last time and gave my face a close inspection. I looked at the clock, 10:30, time to get dressed and out the door.

One thing I didn't think about was what to wear? Did it matter? Do I dress to impress? Show up in street clothes, like a young man would be expected to do? Should I wear underwear? Which underwear should I wear? They probably won't even want me to do anything I told myself. Calm down big boy, you're going to a job interview, not living in a scene from a porno.

I decided to wear the tightest boxer briefs I had. They really showed off my cock, my balls, my ass, nice and tight, snug. Baby blue, with a little sheen, almost see through. My eyes looked over every detail bulging under the fabric. The ridge of the head of my cock, the thick shaft, at this point unable to return to its limpest state, showing veins, resting on top of two big round balls trying to find their place in those tight shorts.

I slipped on a tight pair of jeans. I would wear these to the bar when I wanted to pick up women. They were flattering in all the right ways, without being so obvious as to be sleazy. I pulled over a tight undershirt and buttoned up a short sleeved shirt that I thought somehow made me look a little older, and showed off my long arms. After turning around in the mirror for one last check, I grabbed my wallet, my keys, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

As I got on the bus I could feel my palms getting sweaty, my heart racing, mouth dry, I tried to keep my cool but inside I was freaking out. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone as I walked down the aisle. There were no seats available so I grabbed the hand rail above my head and stood. There were two women sitting directly in front of me. I looked down to see one of them roll her eyes and puff, apparently upset I ruined her view.

The other woman seemed to be enjoying her view. I looked down and noticed I was bulging nicely, flaccid thick cock snaking down my thigh, in the right pant leg. She tilted her head down, but tilted her eyes up. I could see was checking me out, my hips, thighs, package, less than two feet from her face. I watched her eyes undo my belt, the button, the fly. All of a sudden I felt a rush of blood to my face and realized if I got hard right now, it would be stuck in my pant leg, and bulge out, pitching a tall tent right in her face. I panicked, and looked out the window. I was turned on by the idea, but horrified at being such a perverted creep. Or would it be creepy pervert? Either way, the flood of fear I felt coursing through my blood, mercifully killed the erection before it grew enough to be offensive. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at her again.

She was pretty, a little mousy but a little sexy, too, a boring wedding ring on her finger. I wondered if she was the kind of woman who would watch the video I was going to make. She kept trying to divert her eyes, but they kept returning, checking me out, I could see the gears of her imagination turning.

When she looked up, to motion that she was getting off the bus at the next stop, I was already ready looking right at her, unsettling her. She looked a little embarrassed, guilty. I mumbled something about being sorry and got out of her way, then took her seat. I couldn't help but check her out, as she looked out the glass doors, waiting for the bus to come to a stop. She was sensibly dressed for some dreadful office job, but I still noticed sexy curves under the pant suit. The doors opened, she turned her head and looked right at me, in the eye, catching me in the act. She smiled, turned, and left. I was thankful for the confidence boost.

As I walked along the busy downtown street, I could feel my heart race again, getting closer with each step closer to my sexual destiny. I checked the address. "It should be right here," I said to myself as I scanned the buildings in view for the right address number. A few more steps and there it was, the most boring building on the block. I took a deep breath and walked up to the door.

I yanked on the door, it was locked. I saw the intercom and pushed the only button on the panel, "front desk".

"May I help you?" the intercom crackled.

I paused for a second, in all the excitement I nearly forgot the name of the company. "I have an appointment with, um,..." I looked through the dark glass doors, I could see an old man sitting behind a desk, looking at me, unimpressed.

"I have an appointment with Q & D Productions," I nervously croaked into the intercom. I looked through the doors again. He was still unimpressed, maybe even more so now. After what felt like a minute went by, I heard the doors buzz, and I pushed them open.

I started to walk up to the desk but in a monotone voice the grumpy old man commanded me to get in the elevator, go to the third floor, and down the hallway to the right. He glanced up from his paper, reading glasses on the tip of his nose. He looked me up and down, shook his head and went back to the sports page.

"This is it, " I said to myself in the elevator, right before the third floor doors parted and I stepped off. I turned right and walked down the hallway, past a couple unmarked doors, until I saw a sign that said "Q & D". I stood in front of the door, looked down, made sure I was in order, took a deep breath, and knocked.

"Come in." It was the voice from the phone, my heart skipped a beat. I wiped my sweaty palms on the thighs of my jeans, grabbed the door knob, and gave it a turn. I pushed the door open and walked in to a small, nondescript office, with a desk, a phone, a computer, and a woman, sitting on a chair, looking right at me, smiling.

"Have a seat."

I smiled in return, and sat down at the desk in front of her. She was very beautiful, in a cold, stern kind of way. Pale skin, black hair pulled back tightly, similar pant suit to the woman from the bus.

"Just one second, I have to finish something, it won't take long," She said without looking at me, typing away.

I looked around the tiny office. There appeared to be another room behind a closed door. There was a filing cabinet and a locked wardrobe. There was a couple random vintage film posters on the wall, a small sofa, and no window.

"Hugh?" I nodded."I'm Vanessa. Thank you for answering the ad."

"My pleasure," I said, to my own embarrassment.

She cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled. "Have you done anything like this before?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm still not sure what this is."

"That's what I thought," she said condescendingly. "We make videos. For the adult DVD market."

I swallowed, and felt myself getting excited.

"Low production overhead, unknown talent, quick and easy. Quick and dirty." She winked at me and smiled without emotion. "We've found that our male solo series has a dedicated following. It's just one performer, nothing too complicated." She looked right at me when she said that. Again, the condescending tone. I couldn't help but feel there was something sexy about it. "Do you think you're interested in something like that?"

I looked at her, tried to keep my calm, and said, "Yes. Yes I am, very interested." Did I just say that?

She chuckled softly. "OK. There are a few things we need to ask you about first, though."

My heart skipped a beat. "Don't fuck this up," I thought to myself.

"Are you comfortable posing in different clothing? Shirtless, in your underwear?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Are you comfortable being nude on camera?"

"Yes," I responded immediately.

She smiled at my enthusiasm. "Are you comfortable touching yourself on camera? Masturbating? Bringing yourself to climax?"

Finally, what I was waiting for. I loved hearing those questions, my heart started beating faster. "Definitely," I said, with a smile. This time the confidence wasn't acting.

She paused briefly, perhaps not expecting that response. "Good. We like to make our audience happy, and we know what they like. I have just a few more questions." I nodded. "Would you be comfortable taking your clothes off for me right now, in this office?" She was looking right at me.

This time, I was the one who paused. I could feel blood rushing from my heart to my face, my cock. I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. I nervously moved in my seat. "Yes, sure, that's fine," I said with a little less confidence than before.

"Would you be willing to take your clothes off for me as well as my cameraman? He'll be the one shooting the video."

My heart sank. I'm doing this for a guy? She must have noticed my crestfallen face.

"I produce and direct all productions, Ian does all the camera work. Are you comfortable with that?"

She's the director?! My fantasy was coming true, who gave a damn about the cameraman?

"That's fine," I smiled.

"Good. One second, please." She stood up, walked over to the closed door, knocked, and said "Ian, he's here."

The door opened, and a short, skinny, pale young man appeared. Behind him and through the open door was what looked like a video editing suite. I could see computers, video equipment, and a screen. There was a blurry still from a video, a woman licking her lips with her eyes closed. Was it something they shot? He was handsome in a stern way, like her. Were they a kinky couple or something?  

"Hi, I'm Ian," he said with a very thick gay accent. Not a couple, I guess.

I nodded and smiled, and started feeling uncomfortable. "Don't worry about him," I thought to myself, and looked over at Vanessa, who was staring right at me.

"Please, Hugh, stand where you are at the desk." The two of them sat down on the sofa, without taking their eyes off me.

"Move the chair out of the way, take a few steps closer," Ian said, apparently thinking like a cameraman.

"Stop. That's good." Vanessa took over. I found something about being commanded this way felt sexy, I was getting turned on. I felt like I could become erect in one second.

"Some men find performing on command, for the camera, to be... difficult." I looked at the two of them, looking me up and down. Vanessa continued, "Sometimes they find it hard to become excited, to stay aroused. That's not very good for our productions, as you might imagine."

I chuckled and nodded. I felt relieved that my constant erection getting would finally be an asset, instead of an embarrassment. As I thought about that, as I realized what was happening, what was about to happen, I felt my cock become heavy, start to throb, crawl up my thigh. I could it feel it pulsate, moving against the fabric in my tight jeans. I was certain it was obvious. Judging by where their eyes went, it must have been. I blushed beet red.

"It seems you don't have that problem," Vanessa said with a crooked smile on her face.

Ian chuckled, "Um, yeah, I think he's ready for us."

I locked eyes with Vanessa, feeling myself at her mercy. Returning my stare, without blinking she said to me "Take your clothes off."

I almost shuddered, I could feel her voice, telling me to get naked, moving down my spine like a shock wave. I had no hesitation. Looking at the two of them sitting on the couch, staring at me, I quickly undid the buttons on my shit. I opened it up, and shrugged it off, tossing it over the chair. I peeled my undershirt up over my head. It was exhilarating to feel the air on my bare skin. I threw it on the chair as well.

I stood, chest slightly heaving, naked from the waist up. I could see they were both watching me with a little more interest now. I nervously looked down as I undid my belt, popped the button open, and yanked down the fly. With a wiggle of my ass I let my shorts fall to my ankles. I stood in front of them in my tight, little stretchy boxer briefs, erection raging. My cock was so hard, so long and thick and full, I was so aroused, it pulled the waist band an inch away from my lower abs.

"He didn't waste any time, did he?" Ian said without taking his eyes off my crotch.

"Take all your clothes off please," Vanessa commanded nonchalantly while staring directly at my crotch, making my entire body tingle, just from her voice.

I slipped my fingers under the waistband, pulled the tight boxer briefs away from my body enough to get them around my erection, and sent them tumbling to the floor. I kicked them off with a shake of my leg, making my fully erect cock bounce around before finally quivering into place, towering above my smooth shaven scrotum, pulled down by the weight of my heavy testicles.

They both sat in silence, her eyes wide open, his jaw dropped. I stood completely naked a meter in front of them, breathing quickly, heart beating. My cock stood up straight, throbbing, long, thick, full, firm, smooth. It was so erect I couldn't help but flex it, making it dance.

"Very impressive," Vanessa said softly, without taking her eyes away.

"He's fucking huge," Ian said in response, chuckling at Vanessa's composure.

I blushed. They both smiled at me with crooked grins and patronizing eyes.

"You shave yourself do you? We like that, please continue to do that until we film." I nodded. "Get the measuring tape," Vanessa commanded.

There was an awkward silence, while I slowly realized she was saying that to me. I quickly looked over at the desk, and saw a seamstress' measuring tape. I picked it up and started walking over to Vanessa to give it to her, clueless in my horny, vulnerable state of mind.

"Stop," she commanded sternly before my naked aroused body got any closer to her. "Measure yourself. Measure your cock. I want to know exactly how long it is."

I was thrilled, I couldn't believe the reaction I was getting. I was also relieved, that my cock couldn't have been any harder than it was, I was certain I would at least have a fair shot at this.

I held one end of the tape at the base of my cock, at the top of my balls. I pushed my balls down a bit and started stretching the tape up towards the head of my throbbing erection. I looked down and read "ten and three..."

"No, not like that, from the top, not the bottom."

I felt ashamed, I didn't realize what I was doing, she thought I was trying to cheat. Again I held the tape to my raging erection. "Nine and a half inches," I said with half a frown on my face, assuming that must have been quite small for people like them.

"Ugh, oh my god," Ian uttered, in either disgust or desire.

"Impressive," stated Vanessa, as she smirked at my blushed face. "The girls must have fun with you."

I chuckled, not expecting anything less than robotic from her. "I suppose they do," I replied innocently.

Ian snorted. Vanessa commanded me, "Now measure it around. Around the shaft."

I wrapped the paper measuring tape around my cock and read the result. "Six and a half inches." I looked confused for a second. Really? Cocks are that big around? It never occurred to me to measure it that way before. "Wait," I said as I looked down and red it again. "Yeah, six and a half." I looked up at the two of them.

"Touch yourself." Vanessa was already looking me right in the eye at this point.

She repeated in my hesitation, "Touch yourself. Stroke your cock."

I licked my lips, looked right her, not believing my luck. I couldn't tell you why but this was a huge fantasy for me, coming true right at this moment. I felt like I could have cum in seconds.

I gripped my dry cock in my dry hands, not caring about the friction. I slowly started pumping my hand, twisting my hips each time my ass flexed, the length of my cock thrusting out of my hand, right in front of them. I took a deep breath, almost moaned. I wanted to go slow, I was so scared I was going to cum right away. I pumped my cock a few times then pulled my hand away. I gripped my cock by the base and slapped myself with it, against my stomach, pulling it down against it's erect will, slapping my thighs. I went back to slowly, tightly, stroking with one hand, and with the other I gripped an ass cheek. I threw back my head, moaned softly and started breathing heavier, imitating what I saw men do in porn.

"Turn around."

I stopped stroking for a second, and obliged, turning around slowly, wondering what was next.

"Show us your ass."

I didn't really know what she meant. I stuck my ass out, like a stripper. Not hearing a response, I slowly started to shake it, side to side with my hips.

"Not like that."

I paused in confusion.

"Bend over and spread your ass," she commanded bluntly.

I blushed again. Really? OK, sure, I guess that's why I'm here. I spread my legs some, then bent over, squatting a bit, resting on my knees. I could feel cool air streaming into my smooth shaven ass crack as I spread myself open for their inspection.

"He shaves there, too?" I heard Ian mutter.

I turned around to see Vanessa looking a little flushed, she had a thirsty look as she gazed at my ass, my balls dangling, my cock as I pushed it down between my legs for them to see.

"I think he likes this," Ian quipped.

"Mmm, good." Vanessa sounded pleased, which was almost too much for me to bear, I could have ejaculated on the spot.

"Thank you, Hugh. We just need you to sign some forms and we can schedule the shoot."

I smiled from ear to ear, I had to contain myself I was so relieved and excited.

"I think he's happy," Ian said, with one last gaze at my erection before going back to the cutting room and closing the door.

Vanessa chuckled and went over to the desk, acting like I wasn't even there, naked, erection throbbing away right in front of her. She sat down and started printing out some forms. "Please, feel free to get dressed," she said in a pleasant, polite tone of voice. I would have rather got wild and kinky with her but I suppose that would have to wait for the shoot.

To be continued...