WILD WEST HERO - Feb 2014

WILD WEST HERO - Feb 2014
The New E-book

Thursday, 7 July 2016

THOM WOLF signing off

Thanks to everyone who has visited this blog over the last four years, even though I’ve been hopeless at keeping it up to date.  Blogging has never been one of my strong points and I’ve struggled to find the time to do it among my other writing. The short story collection I had planned for 2015 remains incomplete.  The reason it’s been so quiet around here is that I’ve spent the last year and a half working on a new novel CLOSER BY MORNING which is about to be launched by Pride Publishing. Exciting news, eh?

I have a new pen name too. THOM COLLINS.  The new book is still gay themed with lashings of sex, but it’s a lot more mainstream than my Thom Wolf work, hence the new identity.

I’ve set up a new page for Thom Collins HERE.

You’ll find all the info you need about Closer by Morning as well a free novella called THE PLAYERS.

You can also check out my author page at Pride Publishing HERE.

Is this the end for Thom Wolf? The truthful answer is I don’t know.  It’s now 22 years since my first published story and it’s been an absolute blast, but for now I feel I’ve exhausted myself in the field of erotic fiction. I’m not sure I have much left to say. I needed a new direction and am glad to have found it with Closer by Morning. If you liked my novellas Midnight Screening, Wild West Hero and Watching Henry Lawton, you’ll enjoy the new book.




BLURB:
Passion and love bring them together. Murder could tear them apart.
When Matt Blyth, a handsome young lawyer, joins an early morning boot camp, all he wants is to get in shape. His thirtieth birthday is approaching fast. He’s ready to throw away the past and embrace a new future. The last thing he expects is to fall in love…or become embroiled in murder.
Dale Zachary, an American actor, is stuck firmly in the closet. He spent his twenties playing good-looking jocks in bad horror films and romantic comedies. But that boy-next-door act has a limited shelf life. Dale lands the role of his career playing a sexy, psychotic killer in a major British TV series. It’s a part that could make him a star. It’s no time to fall in love, but when Dale meets Matt, the attraction is impossible to resist and they both fall hard.
Someone is killing young men in the city. A killer like no other. The murders bear an uncanny resemblance to the script Dale is shooting. A devious mind is at work. As their relationship becomes more complex, Matt and Dale find the murders intruding further into their lives. The killer is closing in on his next target. It could be either one of them…or both.

I’m currently developing a trilogy of novels which will tie me up for the next 18 months, so it’s unlikely I’ll produce much erotica in that time. But you never know what the future holds. My enthusiasm could return. It has before.

I’ll leave this blog running in the meantime as I still have a number of unpublished short stories I’d like to share.

But for now at least, this is Thom Wolf, signing off.


Friday, 31 July 2015

THE EXHIBITIONIST: Erotic Stories. A New Ebook

THE EXHIBITIONIST

I mentioned in my last blog that I was using the downtime between drafts of my new novel to get back to the dirty stuff that I've always been known for. I've used that time productively – porn always seems to come to me in a series of highly concentrated bursts [– and it's been a busy two weeks. My intention was to put together a one off collection in an ebook. But when I sat down to sort through the short stories I've written over the last two years I found what I actually had was material for three themed collections. The first of which I'm launching this weekend.

Kicking things off is The Exhibitionist. It seems only natural, given how much I've written about exhibitionism since I started back in the early 1990's. I'm not sure why this should be the subject I've returned to so often. I was a bit of a show off in my younger days but not at all now. Maybe I got it out of my system; dancing with my shirt off in sweaty night clubs (that's never gonna happen again) or trawling naked round Spanish sex clubs . Or maybe by writing about sex and sexuality, I don't feel the need to display myself quite so readily. Just glancing back quickly through my old titles I've written about so many exhibitionists: Henry Lawton, Daniel Higgins and Alfie Garcia in The Sex Cabaret, Charlie in The Chain, and dozens of other characters on my short fiction.

What is it about taking it off in public that we find so exciting? These days, it seems like everyone is at it; on Facebook, Twitter, X-tube or Flickr, everyone is showing off their hard cocks or open buttholes. I've always found still images sexier than film, but if that's too old fashioned there are plenty of cam sites where we can broadcast our entire sex lives to the world. And I'm surprised how many people do. Ten, fifteen years ago, guys used to worry what would happen if their movies or pictures were revealed to work colleagues or families. Not any more. Joyfully, proudly, people are happy to put themselves out there.

I don't claim to understand it. I just know it turns me on and I love to explore it through my characters and stories.

THE EXHIBITIONIST



Exhibitionism. Showing off. Revealing everything. Meet the men who hold nothing back.
Oscar has a body that was made to be seen. Twenty years old and physically perfect, he’s only ever happy when someone is watching. He’s THE EXHIBITIONIST. In the isolated basement of an abandoned building, two strangers meet to appease their hunger for rough, animalistic sex.
From locker rooms to private parties, offices to commuter trains, Thom Wolf conjures up a torrent of sexual encounters between uninhibited men for whom exhibitionism isn’t a fetish – it’s a way of life.
Five erotic stories from the author of The Chain and The Sex Cabaret.
Included in this collection:
Working Boy
Secret Basement
The Exhibitionist
Sharing the Bill
All I See


The book officially goes live on Amazon tomorrow 1st August 2015 but may be available earlier. I'll post the links right here once the book is up for sale.

Thursday, 16 July 2015

COMING UP FOR AIR


Today I completed the second draft of a novel I started planning last November and began writing in January. It's been a long and intensive process, so apologies for the lack of updates. It's been around four months since my last blog post and the final chapter of Conner Blue. That's bad, even by my standards. Writing the novel has been an absolute pleasure but it was hard work and required a lot of focus. This is longest book I've written at 85,000 words. When I'm really involved in a project I struggle to juggle other writing. I wish I one of those writers who have several projects ticking away at one time, who produce a new book every couple of months and manage to write extensive blog entries every couple of days. Unfortunately, I'm not. The fact that I write all my first drafts in long hand, only slows things down further. I feel like I'm coming up for air after a long time underwater.

The new book is a departure for me. It's my first “non-porn” novel. There are sex scenes (I haven't given up entirely) but they are not the focal point of the story, in the same way as The Sex Cabaret or The Chain. If I had to apply a label, I'd say it's a M/M novel, but that's not strictly true either. Anyone looking for M/M angst or lovers who do nothing but argue and fuck, won't find them here. So what is it? It's inspired by the kind of books I've always loved, those steamy 70s and 80s novels by Harold Robbins and Jackie Collins. Those thrilling page turners, filled with sex, danger and glamour. A M/M Bonkbuster is probably the best way to describe it, if there can be such a thing.

Because it's so different to what I've done before, I've got a new pen name lined up and will be looking for a traditional publisher. It's not like any of the books that are in vogue right now, so placing it could be a hard task. I'm going to give it a good push for six months and if I don't find an interested publisher it in that time, then I'll go down the indie route.

But right now, in the down time between drafts, I'm ready to dive back into the dirty world of porn. I've been a good boy for so long, I'm ready to get filthy. The Exhibitionist is a collection of short stories coming to ebook on 1st August. I'll post a more detailed update about this book next week but in the meantime check out the cover below.


If you can't wait that long for a horny fix, I'm running a promotion at Amazon on Wild West Hero between 17th and 24th July. For this week only my spaghetti western novella will be available to USA and UK readers for 99c/99p. If you haven't already checked it out, please do. It's my personal favourite of all my porn stories.



Amazon UK

Amazon USA

I've kept a low profile so far this year, just trying to get my novel finished, but I've got a lot of new stuff lined up between now and Christmas. I've got a batch of short stories that I'm editing into three themed collections. They should come out at a rate of one every two months, starting with The Exhibitionist on 1st August.

In the meantime I'm taking a weekend off. The bright lights of Blackpool are calling and I'm in the mood to celebrate.

Love Thom xxx

Thursday, 26 March 2015

Conner Blue Free Ebook

If you enjoyed Conner Blue you can download a free ebook version here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/529559

I'm off on a short break to Malaga this weekend but will be back with a new blog post next week.

Enjoy xxx


Monday, 23 March 2015

CONNER BLUE: Part Four


PART FOUR

Vic was back.  Conner returned from a film in Spain, exhausted after two long days and a late flight home, to find the young wannabe in the living room.
“What's he doing here?” he asked. Terry was in the kitchen.  Through the door he could see Vic on the sofa, slobbing out in just his boxers, bare feet on the coffee table.
Terry was mixing vodka with Red Bull.  “I said he could stay awhile, just till he gets himself fixed up.  His stuff is in the spare room.”
“But what is he doing here?”
“He needed a place.  He's looking for work.  I’m going to help him with both.  I didn't think you'd be such a bitch about it.”
Terry carried the drinks through to Vic and flopped on the sofa beside him.  The kitchen was a mess.  Empty bottles.  Pizza boxes. The bin overflowed with rubbish.  He couldn't deal with this crap right now.  He wanted a shower and then eight uninterrupted hours of sleep.
The bathroom was just as bad as the kitchen.  Damp towels on the floor.  Toothpaste smears around the basin.  Skid marks in the toilet.  For fucks sake.  What was this? A doss house.
It wasn't going to work.  There was no way Vic could stay. Conner wasn't working his arse off, literally, to support a stroppy, lazy teenager.  He was too tired to have the argument now but first thing tomorrow Vic was going right back where he came from.
Conner showered, dumped the towels in the laundry basket, poured bleach down the toilet and headed to bed.
Passing through the living room, Vic had slipped off his boxers and was tossing his freakishly long dick, two handed.  Terry was filming with his phone.
“Did you ever see anything like that?” Terry cackled.  “Isn't it the biggest, most beautiful cock you've ever seen?”
It was certainly one of the biggest.  But beautiful?  No way.  It was freakishly out of proportion.
“Come over and suck it,” Terry said.
“Yeah Conner, suck my dick,” Vic drawled.
“No.”
“Awh, come on,” Terry urged.  “I thought I could take some photos and upload them to your Twitter account.  Conner Blue sucking this big cock. That will get people taking and get Vic the attention he needs. Some producer is bound to pay to get the two of you in a scene together.”
“No.” Conner might be a porn star but he had limits and standards.  And the big dicked, skinny teen fell way below them. “I'm going to bed.  Alone.”
In the morning, he set about cleaning up the kitchen.  Terry stumbled naked from the spare bedroom – Vic's bedroom.
“That boy's gonna be a star,” he chuckled, opening the fridge, taking out the juice. “He came three times last night and was hard all the way.”
Conner ignored him.  Emptied the rubbish bin.
“How was Spain?” Terry asked.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Terry farted.  “I booked you another foreign job.  Three days next month.”
“Where?”
“Berlin.”
“Who with?”
“Ass Bandits.”
Conner stopped what he was doing.  “Cancel it.”
“Come on.  They're gonna pay you a fortune.”
“I'm not risking my health for a few extra Euros.”
Ass Bandits was a production company specialising in bareback porn.  They were one of the most extreme.  Gang bangs, cream pies. In a recent controversial release they thawed one thousand frozen sperm deposits and used a turkey baster to inject the come into the bottoms hole.  The bottom was then gang banged, forced to squirt come from his arse into a bucket and drink it.
“No. Fucking. Way. Cancel it.” Conner threw the rubbish bag at Terry.  “And when you've cancelled pack you stuff, including your trashy twink and get out of my house.”

Brandon's thick dick had been going in and out of Conner's hole for the best part of three hours.  He never got tired of it.  It stretched his ring and filled him to bursting.  It seemed to complete him.
The set was dressed as a locker room.  Conner and Brandon played the parts of rugby players with mud strategically smeared across their hard bodies.  Conner wore a black jock strap, the pouch pulled aside to reveal his raging hard on while he road Brandon's dick.  Brandon sat on the floor, back propped against the lockers while Conner squatted over him.
Conner's thighs ached from holding the position but he never tired of what he was doing.  Never.
The camera man was on the floor between their legs, shooting close ups of the penetration.
Butch Wilson was directing.  “Okay.  Ready for the come shots.  Conner, you first.  Let's see you come while getting fucked.”
Coming was never a problem.  Holding back was the hard part.  Brandon's cock felt too damned good in his arse.  He could have blown his nuts two hours back.  With the camera focused on his dick, Conner stroked it very slowly.  Didn't need much stimulation.  The contractions started.  His arse gripped Brandon tighter – tighter. His cock throbbed.  Conner stopped stroking. Nothing else was required.  With a powerful jerk, the first surge of come blew nearly two feet high.  The second was just as strong.
Squeezing his hole around Brandon's dick, he kept on coming. Gushing more and more creamy spunk.
Butch laughed when he was done.  “As money shots go, you're worth every penny.”
Later. Showered, changed, feeling proud of a good days work, Conner dropped by Butch's office before leaving the studio.
“Great scene today,” Butch enthused. “You two have such chemistry together.  You burn up the screen.”
Conner smiled and thanked him. “Just wanted to let you know I fired Terry as my manager. So if you want to book me for any other jobs, just call me direct.”
“Seriously? You got rid of him?”
“He's gone.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Butch laughed.  “That man's a prick.  Couldn't understand what you were doing with him.  You're nothing like each other.  He was a nightmare to deal with and you're so laid back.”
“It'll be different now.  Better.”
“Did he ever tell you we wanted to offer you an exclusive contract?”
Conner nodded.  “He told me I couldn't do it.”
Butch faced him squarely.  “The offer still stands. If you want it.”
Conner smiled and held out his hand.  “I want it.”


Brandon came to Conner’s hotel room later. “We need to do something to celebrate. This is a special day.”
Conner had taken a hot bath and changed into fresh shorts and T-shirt. He was in no mood to go out. “Another time,” he said. “I’m absolutely beat.”
Brandon raised a bottle of bourbon he’d been keeping behind his back. “We don’t have to go out to celebrate. We can have a private party right here.” He gave Conner the bottle. “Have a decent drink and relax. I’m gonna do all the work.”
Conner poured two drinks and mixed them with diet coke from the mini bar. Brandon set some music playing on his I-pod – a laid back dance track. It suited the mood perfectly. Brandon had also showered. His clean hair was brushed simply back from his face. It made him look wholesome and innocent, quite a difference from his usual horned up image. He wore jeans and a grey t-shirt. Despite his relaxed state there was no mistaking his state of arousal inside those jeans. This guy was permanently turned on.
“My butt hole hurts,” Conner said, before Brandon got any ideas about sticking that huge thing inside him again.”
Brandon grinned. “Let me kiss it better.”
He eased Conner onto the sofa and pulled his hips over the edge. Conner went with it. Raising his hips so Brandon could slip off his shorts, pulling them over his muscular legs. Brandon grasped him behind both knees and lifted, pushing Conner’s thighs into his chest, opening his butt up wide.
“Now, that’s a fine sight,” Brandon murmured, dropping to the floor. He blew gently against Conner’s tender rim.
Conner groaned, breaking out in gooseflesh, all over his body. He shuddered as Brandon placed a soft, wet kiss on his hole and expertly worked him over with his lips and tongue. It was exquisite. Not at all like the greedy, over the top butt munching they had to perform on camera. Brandon caressed and teased, making love to Conner’s hole with just his mouth. “Oh God, yes.”
“Poor little hole,” Brandon purred between perfect licks and kisses. “I’m going to make it better for you.”
Conner closed his eyes, pulled his knees in tighter and gave up his arse. Eventually, when his hole had been soothed into submission, Brandon poked his stiff tongue inside. Conner’s toes rolled back in pleasure. That was something else entirely. Driving him crazy.
“Good, isn’t it,” Brandon said, withdrawing. “Why don’t you just jerk yourself to a nice easy orgasm and let take care of this hole.”
That was an offer he could not refuse. Conner grabbed his dick and tugged. It was intense; the hot, wetness of his tender arse, Brandon’s butt skills and the slow practise of his own hand. He edged closer, closer – reaching the very peak but holding himself back – suspended – sustaining the ecstasy. This was a celebration, he intended to enjoy it. But finally it all became too much. Conner’s nuts drew tighter, the spasms began and at last he was coming – hot, white splashes all over his t-shirt.
Brandon’s face rose from his arse with a smile a mile wide.
“I love the way your hole twitches when you come,” he said.
“And I love the way you make me come,” Conner said.

Bad Rascal didn't waste any time. After signing Conner Blue to an exclusive modelling contract they offered a similar deal to Brandon Drake. Brandon, who had turned them down in the past, finally said yes. The company immediately set about promoting the hell out of their two most popular models. Subscriptions to the website continued to soar and even their DVD sales, long considered a dead format within the industry, exploded. In one month alone they sold more discs than the whole of the previous ten years combined
Conner flew to America to promote the company at a convention in Las Vegas.  Butch Wilson travelled with him and while they were there, they shot a couple of features with Conner together with a bunch of America models.
His dreams had finally come true.  He was an international star. A bigger name now then he ever was a mainstream actor.
“This is intense,” he said, looking at the hundreds of people who were lining up for an autograph and a photo with him at the Bad Rascal booth in Vegas. There were as many women in the queue as men.  All calling his name.  All wanting a piece of Conner Blue.
After the signing, in the green room, he leafed through a brochure and enjoyed a beer.  The brochure was advertising forthcoming porn releases from most international producers.
Bad Rascal had taken out a two page spread to advertise their two exclusives.  Conner Blue and Brandon Drake: Britain's Finest Fuckers. In their photographs they were both smiling cheekily at the camera and flaunting their hard, delectable cocks.  The picture said it all; they were hot, hung, healthy and fun.
Flicking through, a half page ad towards the back of the mag caught his attention.
“Shit,” he said.  “Terry, you bastard.”
It was an ad for a new release; Ass Bandits Studios Presents:  Breeding Bandits 14.  The stills from the movie were sordid and badly lit. Despite the poor quality, he had no trouble recognising the skinny, big dicked bottom at the centre of the bareback gang bang: Vic.
“You stupid, stupid boy.”
He closed the magazine. Sad for the kid who was too young, too stupid and too inexperienced to know any better.  Hating Terry for what he'd talked the boy into.
Thankful that he'd had the balls to say no to Terry. To say no to bareback, to risking his health for money and the morbid entertainment of those who celebrated dangerous behaviour.
Conner Blue was a porn star on his own terms. 
Proudly so.


THE END

Friday, 20 March 2015

CONNER BLUE: Part Three



Brandon Drake had all the attributes of a great porn star and more.  Twenty seven years old, he was handsome, hung and exuded charm.  He was also smart.  In the short time he'd been in the business Conner hadn't met anyone like him.
He doubted there was anyone like him.
Brandon had been making porn for a couple of years.  He was a recognisable name and face, having worked for most of the UK and European producers.  With his tanned skin, green eyes and collar length brown hair, he was sexy in a primal, exotic way.  Even if they didn't know he was packing an eleven inch dick, he would turn most heads in the street, male and female.
Before they met, Conner wondered why Brandon wasn't a bigger star.  He seemed to work steadily but in nowhere near as many productions as he could have.
Conner was back in London, shooting a scene for a new producer when he met his co-star at the hotel.  The producer, a guy called Aidan, couldn't afford his own studio so had hired two adjoining hotel rooms.  One was to film in, while the other would serve as a production office come dressing room.
Brandon was already there when he arrived. As an actor he was used to meeting performers in the flesh who didn't quite live up to their screen image.  Brandon wasn't one of them.  If anything he was even sexier in real life.  His eyes were brighter.  His skin more golden.  But his smile was the real winner.  As he pumped Conner's hand and grinned, it was like stepping into sunlight after weeks of darkness.
“So happy to meet you,” Brandon said, looking straight in his eyes.  “I couldn't believe my luck when Aidan told me I was going to be filming with the man of the moment.”
Conner couldn't stop staring.  Fuck.  Brandon was sexier than any of the men he'd worked with so far.  Those other guys had been hot – great looking, great bodies, great cocks – but Brandon had something else, something that was more potent than any of those things; he oozed charisma.
“I'm flattered,” Conner said.  “But I'm excited too.  I've been a fan of yours for a while.”
The shoot was running behind.  In the other room, Aidan and his camera man were struggling with the lightening.  Conner and Brandon had time to get to know each other before they started fucking.  A luxury Conner had not experienced on any of his other films.
“So, have you worked with Aidan before?” he asked, sitting beside Brandon on a sofa in the next room.
“Only once.  He's new to all this.  But he's a nice guy.  He looked after the models on his last shoot.  That goes a long way in my book.”
“I don't have a lot of experience yet, but everyone I've worked for so far has been really nice.”
“Then you're damned lucky.  There are plenty of arse holes out there. You'll meet a lot of them if you stick around long enough.  Not just behind the camera either.  There are plenty of fuckwits in front of it too.  Trust me.  I'm the voice of bitter experience.” He rolled his eyes and smiled.
Conner laughed. “At least with experience you can choose your next steps carefully.”
“True enough.”
“Do you have a manager?”
He shook his head.  “Don't need one.  For the amount of work I do, I can find my own jobs.”
“Wouldn't you get more work if you had a manager?”
“And I'd have to work even more to pay him.  I get as much as I want for now.  I'm not looking to be a big star at this.  I'm in it for the fun and the money.  When my time is up, I want to be able to walk away and leave it all behind.  I'm studying for a post grade degree.  Doing this stops me running up a whole lot more debt.  When my studies are done, then so will this little side line.”
“You've got it all figured out.”
“Got to,” he said.  “I got into this business with my exit plan already worked out.  I know you're just beginning but I suggest you give some thought to yours too.”
Conner nodded but knew it wouldn't be that easy for him. Brandon, or whatever his real name was, could go back to a normal life when this was over.  If he was lucky he could leave it behind as easily as that.  Conner Blue had no normal life to begin with.  Now he'd taken this step to notoriety, he would always be known as a porn star.
“You're talking like you have regrets about what you're doing,” Conner said.
“No way.  Hell man, today I'm going to fuck Conner Blue and get paid for it.” He nudged Conner's arm playfully.  “How could anyone regret that?”
The shoot went without a hitch.  The attraction between them was so strong that nothing had to be faked.  Aidan was also a relaxed director and ensured there was no tension on the set.  It was still work.  As much as he fancied Brandon, Conner couldn't let go and lose himself in passion.  They had a job to do.  Shots to achieve and positions that had to be maintained until they were done.
It was a standard porn shoot.  Mutual blow jobs followed by Brandon eating Conner's hole.  Then fucking – three different positions – and a come shot each.  They were finished in two and a half hours.
It was the fastest, easiest shoot he’d ever done.
“I'm starving,” Brandon announced when they were done.  “Fancy getting something to eat?”
Conner was in London on his own.  Terry had stayed home this time.  Should he spend an evening in the hotel by himself or have dinner with Brandon? No competition.
They went to an Italian restaurant round the corner from Covent Garden.  Now that he was famous – infamous – again, Conner was wary of drawing attention to himself when he went out.  He wore a baseball cap with the peak pulled low over his forehead.  He kept it on until they were seated at the back of the restaurant, far from the window.
“Do you get recognised much?” Brandon asked.
“More than I used to.  Some of the attention is good.  Some of it is pretty bad.  I try not to court it either way.”
They both ordered pasta and shared a garlic bread and a bottle of wine.
“Feels good to pig out after a scene,” Brandon said.  “I spend days before working out and living like a monk.  No booze, no sugar, no bread.  I always reward myself afterwards.”
“You have the healthiest attitude of any of the guys I've worked with.”
“It's the only way to stay sane.  I've seen plenty of emotional car wrecks.  I'm determined not to become one myself.”
“It’s that bad?”
“For some guys, yeah.  They tend to go one of two ways.  Take it too serious or not seriously enough.  Either way I've seen them burn out. I like to keep my feet on the ground and a sense of humour about it all. It's pretty ridiculous when you think about it; getting paid to fuck on camera so thousands of people you'll never meet can wank off over you.  I'm in it for the good times and the cash.  When it becomes the only thing that defines you – then it's time to get out.”
His attitude was refreshingly honest.  Conner wanted to do well and succeed but could also see the funny side.  Brandon was right.  It was ridiculous.  Terry took it too seriously too.  Sometimes he behaved like Conner was starring in Blockbuster movies rather than internet skin flicks.
He hadn't met anyone like Brandon before.  In or outside of porn.  Someone so laid back, relaxed, sexy and funny.
As they ate their food and drank the wine, he found himself wanting him more and more.  They had fucked already.  Two and half hours of fucking.  But that wasn't the real thing.  They'd been doing it for other people.  Now he wanted Brandon for himself.
He feasted his eyes throughout the meal.  Watching Brandon's mouth, his eyes, his hands on the table.  Normally after a scene, sex was the last thing on his mind, but tonight – shit, he couldn't think about anything else. Of feeling those hands on his body again, that mouth on top of his, Brandon's cock inside him. He was horny as hell.
He wanted it so badly he felt a pull inside.  A feeling in his gut, in his heart.  It was a profound ache. He didn't understand it, just felt himself reacting.  He couldn't wait until they met on another film set.  He needed Brandon tonight.
Needed him properly.
The wine was almost finished.  Brandon signalled for the bill.  Time was running out.
“My hotel is close to here,” Conner said.  “Would you like to come back with me?”
Brandon's green eyes glistened.  “You had me worried there.  Thought you'd never ask.”
Walking to the hotel, Conner kept his cap low over his brow.  He couldn't wait to get to his room with Brandon.  It felt like the afternoon had been wiped clean and they were hurrying to screw each other for the first time.
There was no relief in the lift as an elderly couple road with them from the lobby to their floor.  They rushed down the corridor, laughing.  Conner's entire body tingled with anticipation.  His cock was ready to burst.
Through the door, slamming it behind them, they attacked each other with mouths, hands, full body contact.  Lips mashed together, tongues thrusting, they stripped each other bare, flinging their clothes untidily to the floor.
Brandon's hands went straight for Conner's butt; grabbing both cheeks, kneading the full flesh.
“I'm gonna fuck you properly this time,” Brandon breathed into his kiss.
Conner pushed back against his hands, giving it up.  “All yours,” he said.  “Do it.”
They stumbled to the bed.  It was all so different from the carefully choreographed scene they had played hours earlier.  There was no one telling them what to do now.  Passion was their only director.
Conner hadn't unpacked.  Retrieving condoms and lube from his suitcase, he tossed a rubber to Brandon and fingered lube up his arse.  He barely needed it.  It was easy when you were so turned on.  Leaping on the bed, he positioned himself on all fours, angling his arse towards Brandon.  Their ardour was too riled up for foreplay.
Brandon grabbed his hips, lowered the angle and pushed in.  He went all the way with no resistance.
Holy shit!” Pure ecstasy.  Brandon's dick filled his hole.  Giving it what it needed.  “That's it.  Feels so damned good.” He tightened his muscle around the fat fuck stick.
There was no need to take it easy.  Brandon got to fucking him good and deep.  Their needs were the same.  Conner pushed back at him.  The room cracked with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
Brandon's dick struck something inside that drove him wild.  This was a new dimension in pleasure.  He would never experience it on a film, no matter how long and thick the dicks that fucked him were.  He didn't feel it with Terry either.  Terry was a good fuck but nothing like this.
Like a battering ram, Brandon's cock was wrecking him – destroying him with pleasure.
In his short career, he was getting used to coming on demand, but he had no control over this.  His orgasm possessed him.  His entire body ached, throbbed and then collapsed with relief.  He came harder than any time he could remember.  His balls seemed to spasm as he erupted, spewing their hot creamy load across the bed.
They collapsed face down in the sticky mess.  For a long time neither of them could speak.
“There's nothing better than the real thing,” Brandon said at last.
“I'm beginning to realise that,” he rolled over, gazed at the ceiling. Totally fucked in the best possible way.
Brandon rose onto an elbow, looking at him.  “It's possible to have it both ways, you know.  You can do porn and still have a real sex life.  Don't lose sight of the real thing, that's what counts.  Porn is a fantasy, just like the image you create for yourself.  Think of it as a character and keep a distance from it.” He scratched his balls.  “The guys who get themselves into real trouble are the ones who take it too seriously.  Who depend on the attention for happiness and lose sight of their identity.”
“I think I'll be okay,” Conner said at last.
“I think so too.”

“I just have to make it work for me.”

TO BE CONTINUED

FOURTH AND FINAL PART: MONDAY 23rd MARCH

Friday, 13 March 2015

CONNER BLUE: Part Two



PART TWO

Butch called a short break to give the twins time to recover.  Conner cleaned his face and gathered round the monitor to watch what had just been shot.  He didn't bother putting on his robe.  Being naked around other  people came surprisingly easy.
“Looks great, doesn't it?” Butch beamed.  “The camera fucking loves you.  It loves you.”
Conner agreed.  He did look good.  He was used to watching himself on screen but never like this.  He had never looked better.
“That was inspired man,” Butch continued.  “The twins should never have shot their loads so soon but the way you handled it – that was genius. This footage is dynamite.  I'm telling you, fucking dynamite.”
“Do you think the twins will be able to complete the scene?  To come again?”
“Give them half an hour. They'll be as good as new.  Don't worry about those two. They can get hard and come to order.  First time I've ever known them come prematurely.  As it turns out, it's the best thing they could have done.  Just awesome.”
Conner went off to wash the come off his face.  As he came out, the hairdresser asked him for an autograph.  “Not for me; my mother.  She just loves Quayside.”
Next up they were shooting anal.  Over the next hour or so Conner would have to take the twins big cocks up his butt.  He slipped into the bathroom to prepare.  Getting their cocks into his throat had been a feat, cramming them into his tight chute was a much bigger challenge.
He had come prepared.
From his carry all he removed a bottle of lube and a black bag, containing two dildos and a small butt plug.  Depending on the tightness of his arse it was sometimes necessary to start with the butt plug.  But not today.  Being with the twins and getting a face load of their come got him pretty hot and loose.  Testing his arse with a couple of lubed fingers, he got both digits up his chute. No problem.
If he was at home, preparing to get fucked by just a regular guy, he'd need no more relaxing than that.  But he wasn't at home and he wasn't about to get fucked by any old guy – it was the Jagger twins with their world famous ten inch dicks.
Conner lubed up a medium sized dildo.  There wasn't much space in the bathroom but with one foot on the toilet he managed to ease the six inch rubber dick into his arse.  The toy was a perfect fit for his rectum and felt amazing up there.  He tightened his muscle ring around the rubber, then relaxed, tightened and relaxed, then shoved it all the way back in, working his hole.
It felt fantastic having something crammed up his arse.  Just as well.  He was about to make a new career of doing exactly that.
Conner removed the toy, wiped the excess lube from his butt and returned to the set.
Lucas and Dano were waiting on the bed.  Their cocks were hard.  They sat with their heads together, talking in their own language, laughing while casually stroking their dicks.  Lights had been set around the bed and the two camera men had their equipment ready to shoot.
“How do you want me?” Conner asked.
“On the bed on all fours,” Butch said.  “Let the twins guide you.  They're experts.  They'll keep you right.”
One of the twins was already rolling a condom over his fat dick.  Conner applied more lube to his butt hole and got on the bed. All along he had thought that when this moment came he would be terrified, but he wasn’t frightened at all.  He wasn't even nervous.  He was excited – couldn't wait to get a dick in his arse and couldn't wait to see what it would look on screen afterwards.
On his hands and knees, with one cock in his mouth and another in his arse, Conner Blue got fucked on camera for the first time. He need not have worried; his arsehole took the thick rod without the slightest twinge of pain.  It felt wonderful, long and fat, pushing in and out of his hole.  He could hardly concentrate on the cock in his mouth because the one in his butt felt so fucking great.
The twins gave it to him long and hard, for as long as it took the camera men to record his penetration from every angle.  When enough footage had been shot in that position, they withdrew and changed around.
“Doing okay Conner?” Butch asked as he clicked away with the stills camera.
“Never better,” he gasped.  Out of breath, sweating; he couldn't believe they were paying him for this.
The twin he had been sucking sat on the bed, head and shoulders raised on pillows.  Conner straddled his hips, facing away from him and lowered his arse onto his cock.  The first twin wasted no time, sliding his cock into Conner's open mouth. This position was harder to maintain.  Conner had to concentrate on holding in his abs, on looking good.  His thigh muscles grew tired and began to scream with the pain.  But he didn't break a stroke, didn't stop riding that cock, not while the cameras were filming.
Butch told him to turn around so he was looking at the boy who fucked him. He wanted them to kiss.  This position was far easier and he knew it would give the camera a stunning and unrestricted shot of that cock going up his hole.  Conner kissed the boy as he rode him. Sweat dripped over both their faces and he could taste it on their lips.
He was lost in the moment, so consumed with what he was doing, that he didn't take notice of what was happening behind him.  He assumed that was a camera man behind, getting a close shot.  When the boy beneath wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him forward, he thought it was for a deeper kiss.  He didn't register the rubbered up, lubricated dick of the second twin – Lucas or Dano – until he started cramming it into his already full hole.
What the fuck! This couldn't be happening!
But it was.  Wider and wider, his arsehole stretched.  Unbelievable.  No.  It wasn't possible … He'd never before … Both dicks, ten inches each, sat inside him.  Conner trembled.  It was unreal.  Double penetration, like nothing he'd experienced before.  His head felt like it was in another place.  Out of his body. Out of this world.
He was making his porn début
Doubled fucked by twins.
How could he ever top this?

Fatigue set in by Saturday.  Conner filmed three scenes in as many days.  Shooting porn wasn't easy.  It might all be a fantasy, but the reality was long takes and having for hold difficult positions for unbelievable durations while trying to make it all look like the sexiest thing in the world.
It was nothing like having sex at home.
It was work.  Hard work.
By Saturday night, with one day of filming left, Conner was knackered.
“We're heading into town for drinks,” Terry announced as they cleaned the set at the end of the day.
“Count me out,” Conner said.  “I need an early night.  But you go.  Enjoy yourself.”
Ordinarily he'd have gone like a shot.  He loved London; the bars, restaurants, the people, but he didn't have the energy.  Not tonight.
He went to the hotel and ran a hot bath.  Every part of his body seemed to ache tonight: back, thighs, abs. Maintaining those positions really took it out of you.  It felt like he had run a marathon every day that week.  But nothing hurt more than his butt hole.  He’d always thought he could take a good pounding but nothing in his private life could prepare him for the intense, grinding friction of a porn flick.  His hole was raw.
His dick felt pretty sore too.  Maybe it was possible to have too much of good thing.
He retrieved a bottle of whisky from his suitcase, poured a generous shot, and slipped into the tub. That felt better.  The booze, the water, the sweet sound of vintage Whitney from his I-pod in the bedroom.
He could have gone out tonight.  If the offer had come at the end of the second or first day, there was no way he'd have said no, but tonight he wasn't up to it.  He must be getting old – older.
If he had gone he would have enjoyed himself. No doubt.  He'd drink enough vodka to ensure that.  He'd dance and stay out late, probably go to a club and get fucked by a stranger in the dark room.
But then what?  Another long day of filming tomorrow.  Looking and feeling like shit.  No way.  Didn't want anyone accusing him of burn out on just his fourth scene.  Terry and the rest of the crew could drink and fuck as much as they wanted.  They didn't have to go before the cameras in the morning or maintain a hard on all day. Take a giant dick up their tired holes and try to look sexy.
Conner smiled.  How quickly he had taken to this new career.  How seriously he took it.
But you had to take it seriously if you wanted to be the best.  No one got to the top in any career by fooling around. Determination was the key. He would not be a foot note in the history of porn.  One of those guys whose career was over before his first scene was released.  Conner intended to go all the way.  That meant saving something for the cameras.
Out of the bath and towelled dry, he put on one of the white hotel robes.  He spent a few minutes in front of the mirror.  Shit, he really did look tired.  He squeezed some drops into his bloodshot eyes and rubbed gel into the dark circles beneath them.  The shadows could be covered with make up in the morning but it would be better if they weren't there at all.
Pouring another whisky he flopped on the sofa and picked up the room service menu.  There was an action thriller on the pay per view movie service.  That would kill a couple of hours before lights out and an early night.
He was hungry.  Bottoms were advised against eating much the night before filming a fuck scene.  But four scenes in four days; come on.  Who could avoid eating for that length of time?  He dialled down and ordered a chicken sandwich and a half bottle of wine and started the movie.
Conner was fast asleep when the door opened at one a.m. There was stumbling in the dark, whispers and laughter, before the light came on. 
Terry was back.  He was drunk.  And he was not alone.
Shielding his eyes against the light, Conner sat up in bed.  He blinked and tried to focus.
“What's going on?”
Terry came towards the bed.  He was topless and his eyes were wild.  “Wake up Con.  I brought you back a present.”
A boy approached the bed.  He was also bare chested.  He had a slim, hairless body with just a hint of muscle across his chest and shoulders.  Conner peered closer.  The boy had a hungry, horny look in his eyes.  He was pretty enough, if you were into that emaciated twink type.  Conner was not.
“This is Vic,” Terry drawled. “The kid wants to get into porn, just like you.”
So much for keeping his new career a secret.  The news would be all over Twitter and Facebook as soon as Vic got out of here.  Assuming he knew who Conner was.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Vic answered.
“Truthfully?”
“Definitely.”
“What do you want?” Terry said, reaching for the boys fly.  “ID?”
“He looks young.” Conner said.
“I'm eighteen man.  It was my birthday last month. For fucks sake.”
“See,” Terry laughed, tugging Vic's jeans to his thighs.  “The boy's eighteen.  And he wants to get fucked.”
Vic was one of those skinny, underdeveloped boys with an abnormally large dick.  It was huge.  He stared blankly at Conner while Terry went to work with his mouth.
It was the last thing Conner wanted tonight but the only way to get it over was to give them what they wanted.  They were both drunk, it shouldn't take long.
There was no way the kids monster dick was going anywhere near his sore butthole, but with the residue of today's Viagra still circulating in his system, Conner managed to muster a decent erection.  Enough to stuff in Vic's mouth while Terry fucked his flat, shapeless arse.
Fortunately it was over quickly.  Neither Vic nor Terry seemed to notice he didn’t come.  Terry fell asleep straight after.  Conner showed the boy to the door and was relieved when he didn’t ask for money. He hoped it was the last he'd see of him.

“Great night, wasn't it?”
Terry sat on the toilet while Conner showered.
“I wasn't there, remember?”
Terry chuckled.  “Yeah, but I brought you something home so you wouldn't feel left out.”
Conner didn't answer.  If Terry thought he'd done him a favour with the slutty twink, he was mistaken, but let him think that if it made him happy.
“Vic's a great kid.  And the dick on him.  Whoa.  That beast will make some real money.”
Just how drunk had Terry been last night? Vic had a huge cock all right.  But that was the only thing he did have.  Looks, body, personality, charm: they were all lacking.
“He hasn't got the Bad Rascal look, don't you think?”
Terry tutted.  “Will you get over Bad Rascal.  They're not the only force in porn you know.  There are plenty of producers, ones who are not so rigid in their vision.  I met some of them last night.  You should have been there.  You missed a great opportunity to network.”
“I'm happy with Bad Rascal.  I feel comfortable working for them.”
“That's cause they're vanilla.  And so are you.” Terry wiped his arse and flushed.  “You need to think beyond all that.  This is your career.  Not your personal preference.  There's money to be made.  But not by playing it safe.”
“I'm only getting started.  The risks are big enough already.”
“I got some big offers for your last night. Not just here in the UK, but abroad too.”
Conner brightened.  “America?”
“No yet.  No one has heard of you over there.  No, here in Europe.  Germany and Prague.  Pretty exciting offers.”
“How exciting?”
“Need to make a few calls.  Find out more.”
Conner turned off the shower.  “You're being evasive.  What kind of offers?”
“Nothing too heavy.  A bit of leather.  Spanking … bareback.”
Conner's eyes flashed angrily.  “No way.”
“You've got to consider it.  The pay is so much better.”
“No.  No bareback.  I mean it.”
“Are you intent on career suicide before you even get started?  Everyone does bareback these days.  It's no big deal. You can even take a pill for it.  It's what people want to see.  It's what they pay for.”
Conner stepped out of the shower.  “They can pay someone else.  I'm not working without a condom.  Not ever.”

Six weeks later.  With Conner's first scene at Bad Rascal still to be released, he was already an adult sensation. No porn release had ever produced such media interest, especially in the UK. A scandal exploded in the tabloid press.  Conner Blue's career as a legitimate actor was long dead but he was still considered a celebrity name.  Sporadic appearances on reality TV shows had kept him in the public consciousness to a minor degree.  Viewers were happy to see him on cookery shows, learning to dance or living in a house with twelve other faded celebrities, but no one was interested in his acting.  He was a minor name; famous for having once been famous.
He expected his move into porn to provoke a small amount of interest in the mainstream press.  What he didn’t expect was the explosion of media attention the Bad Rascal's press release for his début provoked.
The announcement dropped in the middle of the summer, during a very slow news week.  Within hours it was all over the internet; Twitter, blogs, news groups.
Old photographs of him as a cherubic child actor ran beneath lurid headlines.  Quayside Star Goes Queerside.  Conner Turns Blue.  Sleazy Porn Career For Child Star. The fact that he was eighteen when Quayside dumped him was forgotten as the press concentrated on his beginnings as a nine year old innocent.  Tired old stories of child actors going off the rails in adulthood were revisited.
He couldn't leave the house for days as reporters and photographers camped outside.
“This is fucking awesome,” Terry said, trawling through media outlets on his I-pad.  “You're still the number one trend on Twitter.  Butch called this morning.  Subscriptions to the Bad Rascal website have increased two thousand percent.  Two fucking thousand percent and your first scene isn't up yet.  Just the trailer. Fuck me!
They were in Conner's kitchen, a week after the story broke.  Without closing curtains, the kitchen was the only room in the house where he had any privacy.  It was the only room that couldn't be seen from the street.
“Butch is offering a shit load to sign you as a Rascal exclusive,” Terry said.
“Take it,” Conner said.  “Take the deal for a fixed period.  Say a year.” He'd now seen edits of all the scenes he had shot with Butch and was more than happy with the way they'd turned out.  They looked great.  Even better than that – he looked amazing in them.  Better than he ever expected.  The quality and class of the production was apparent in every shot.
“Nah, too early to tie ourselves down.  Being contracted to a single studio is too restrictive.  We'd have to turn down bigger, better offers.”
“But if Rascal are offering good money.”
“It's not enough.  Do you realise how hot you are right now?  We’re getting big money offers from America.  Where no one had ever fucking heard of you till last week.  Trust me.  I'm your manager.  This is not the time to tie yourself down.”
Conner wasn't sure but kept his mouth shut.  He didn't have the energy to argue with Terry.  He'd been “hot” before, several times in fact and knew it rarely lasted.  It had never been like this of course.  His current level of fame and notoriety was unlike anything he'd experienced before.  But there had been periods when his name was hot for a while, when excellent opportunities had presented themselves and he hadn't grabbed them.  When he had stupidly held out for something better.
When he left Quayside at eighteen, he was offered the secondary lead in a BBC drama.  He rejected it because he wanted to make a movie.  The finance for the film fell through and he lost both jobs.
After coming second in the celebrity cookery show, he was offered the lead in a touring production of The Woman in Black.  He rejected that offer because he thought he should be doing TV.  The TV offers failed to materialise.
An exclusive contract with Bad Rascal was a big deal.  He should take it while it was there.

He hoped Terry's greed for something better wasn't one more thing he would live to regret.