Looking for Forever

by Max Hudson

  “You’re not an old man either,” he said, rubbing his hair with a towel. He looked up at me with soft eyes and an expectant smile and I felt the whole world fall away.

  “I’m a porn star!”

  SMOOTH!

  The smile flickered, faded, and then died on his lips. His eyes searched mine as if he was begging me to tell him that I was just joking.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, I just...I didn’t want to go any further with you without telling you. I didn’t want you to be trolling the internet and find out. I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “Okay.” His face didn’t register any emotion.

  “And I want to see you more. I mean, I like you. And if you like me the way I like you, maybe we could see how things go. But you need to know that that’s how I make a good chunk of my money.”

  “Straight porn?”

  I chuckled.

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  “Would it be better if it was?”

  “Maybe. At least there wouldn’t be any crossover, you know?” He sat down gingerly. His face was still unreadable, but I was still hopeful.

  “Yeah,” it was my turn to be monosyllabic.

  “So, uhm, what does that mean?”

  He looked genuinely lost. I could imagine all of the questions and issues that were running through his mind. Where to start? Which concerns should I address first? I’d already scuttled my grand speech. I was in deep water now, and I wasn’t sure if there was any shore to return to. “Look, I get tested every two weeks. I wear condoms. So…”

  “Nice to know,” he said with a smirk.

  “I just didn’t want you to think that I was...”

  “Careless?”

  “You shouldn’t worry about your health. I mean, you should, of course, you should. There is still an obvious risk. I’m just saying that I take these things seriously. I don’t do random hook-ups in my private life. It’s safe to say that the overwhelming majority of my sexual history is on film somewhere. I know it sounds ridiculous but I’m not really into casual sex.”

  “Just sex for money.”

  I’d heard that one before, but it hurt coming from him.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t know why I felt disappointed, but I did.

  “No, I mean,” he exhaled and took a deep breath. “I mean, it’s just work.”

  “Yeah, in my real life, I’m about as boring as it gets.”

  “Okay, so tell me one thing,” he patted the sofa beside him and I took the invitation. “Why porn?”

  “I needed money, fast. My life was fucked up. I made some really stupid decisions and I was in a bad situation. I’d just broken up with the most manipulative, emotionally fucked up guy you’d ever want to meet. I was drunk or hungover all the time. And one day I’m fucked up in an alley playing with myself while some guys watched; basically, begging for something bad to happen to me. This guy comes over, gives me his card and tells me he wants to invite me over for a screen test.”

  “And you took him up on his offer?” Doug wrinkled his nose and shook his head at my stupidity. He was right. I took a huge risk by hanging on to that business card.

  “I told you, I wasn’t exactly making great decisions at the time. But, when I was sober enough to think it over, I figured it might be my way out. In a few hours, I could make what I was earning in a week.”

  “So, when things got better for you, why didn’t you quit?” He took my hands in his and looked at me as if he were staring at a wounded puppy.

  “I like what I do.” I wasn’t sure he would understand that. Not many people did. “Not just the sex, which gets pretty boring after a while. I like helping people explore their fantasies. I like being their fantasy. In front of the camera, I am the sexiest man in the room. I am a walking wet dream. Who gets to be that guy for a living? A handful of movie stars and me. That’s it.”

  A tiny ember began to flicker in Doug’s jade colored eyes. I could see that I hadn’t yet completely chased him away. Maybe he didn’t fully understand, but he was trying.

  “So, you started on a whim and you discovered your calling?”

  “I don’t know if you could call it a calling. I like entertaining people. I like being THE Max Lover. And I make great money. I meet a lot of great people. I like the lifestyle that I have been able to build. But I’m honest with myself. I can’t do this forever. I’m not even sure I’d want to.”

  “Like me.”

  It was my turn to struggle to understand.

  “I didn’t dream of becoming a flight attendant as a little boy,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I just happened to be good at service and hospitality, and I wanted to get as far away from home as possible. I mean. Utah is a great place, but the world is so big, and I wanted to see more of it. Plus, it was hard to find yourself in a conservative town. I felt like I was suffocating slowly. I was always depressed. I needed a way out. I had a cousin who flew with an Emirati airline for a while when she was younger, back in her pageant days. It was her idea.”

  “And now?”

  “I like my job, but I can’t do it forever. I don’t want to be fifty years old serving vegetarian dinners on a Miami to San Fran five nights a week.”

  I cringed.

  “Sounds gruesome.”

  He laughed and the knot in my stomach loosened just a bit.

  “So, are you famous?”

  “You’d probably know if I was,” I said, trying to avoid another potentially disastrous conversation.

  “Not really. I, uh, don’t really watch a lot of porn. I mean, I’ve seen porn, but I don’t really…” his voice trailed off and his cheeks turned an inhuman shade of scarlet.

  My jaw dropped.

  “Never?”

  “Not never, just not as much as most people.”

  “Then how do you get off? I mean I know flight attendants get a lot of action, but–”

  “My imagination is enough, usually. Also, I basically live in hotels, and the airline books us two to a room in most cases. Not a lot of privacy for those kinds of things.”

  “Wow, I thought I was the one with the bombshell revelation tonight, but you got me beat. I’m not super famous, but I work consistently, and I have carved out a niche for myself. I don’t do much hardcore porn. I did in my early days. Now it’s mostly erotica. So, I guess I’m like an actor from your favorite French film kind of famous,” I said squeezing his hands in mine.

  “I guess that’s okay,” he said with a wink.

  “You are really something,” I said kissing him softly on his soft lips.

  “So, you must really like me, huh?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.”

  His eyelashes fluttered down to his cheeks and suddenly the silence between us didn't seem so intrusive. Sitting here, holding his hands wasn’t exactly foreplay, but for me, it was good enough.

  Chapter Four

  “First night jitters?” I was trying to be charming and failing miserably.

  “Not really. I just wanted–”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to get laid tonight,” I said. Besides, the hideous striped pajama bottoms that he convinced me to wear did nothing for my sex appeal. I wouldn’t fuck me in this outfit.

  “I know. I just wanted to thank you for being a gentleman.”

  “And not jumping your bones?”

  “Yeah,” he blushed, and it set fire to my crotch. I got up, not wanting to destroy his impression of me just yet. Maybe I could try this whole “gentleman” thing out for a while. I walked over to the bed and began tossing the excess pillows off the mattress.

  “I really like you, Doug. Despite your unfortunate name.”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with Doug.” He followed me over, turning down the sheets on the other side of the bed.

  “It’s just Doug, it's not short for Douglas. Douglas at least sounds dignified. Is that why your name tag says, James? James is sexier.
Everybody has met a sexy James. All the Dougs I know have big bellies and crush beer cans on their foreheads,” I laughed. So did he.

  “Actually, it was a mistake. The lady who was printing my name tag read my name backward, but since it’s still technically my name, I went with it.”

  “You don’t like to make waves,” I observed.

  “Not if I don’t have to. I just want people to be comfortable and happy. I guess that makes me perfect for my job,” he smiled brightly, slipping between the sheets and pulling the blanket up under his chin.

  He looked sweet and innocent lying against the white cotton sheets. He made me feel dirty just by looking at him. I almost didn’t want to touch him. Almost.

  He turned his head and looked up at me.

  “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

  “Can I hold you?” Again, not smooth, but honest. It was the best I could do at the time. I had been failing at being smooth all evening. There was no point in ruining the trend.

  He flipped the blanket back and opened his arms. I didn’t hesitate, scooting in close and pulling him against my chest. His body was warm and firm, but his touch was light. He wrapped his arms around my body and hugged me back. My body froze as he pressed himself against me.

  “Too tight?”

  “No, not at all,” I said, not really sure what it was I was feeling. “I think I’m just not used to sleeping next to somebody. It’s been a while.”

  “Really?”

  I turned out the lamp on the nightstand next to us, reducing us both to silhouettes in the darkness.

  “I would think that...I mean in your profession…” his voice drifted away in the darkness.

  “We don’t do much sleeping or cuddling in my profession. I get laid plenty. Even if I was a banker, I could probably get laid.”

  “With a body like yours? No question,” he said, running a hand across my stomach.

  “But, I haven’t really done this with anybody in–” I struggled to recall the last time I laid in bed next to anybody and just slept. The closest I could recall was a few furtive heavy petting sessions during sleepovers and at camp. They didn’t really count. They were definitely more about sex than sleep. “I guess I haven’t really done this with anybody.”

  “Oh? So, you’re a cuddle virgin? Don’t worry about it. I’m a pro.”

  “Slut,” I teased.

  “I prefer seasoned, intimate, hospitality professional,” he said, squeezing me once and chuckling softly to himself.

  We didn’t speak after that. I laid there in the darkness with a stupid grin on my face, stroking his hair as he slept. He fell asleep quickly, and his weight pressed down on my body. I was always a little claustrophobic when it came to romantic partners, but this felt good. It felt solid and real.

  ***

  As I lay in bed watching his sleeping face in the morning light, I couldn’t help but feel a little delight. I watched his features twitch. The way his nostrils flared, and the corners of his mouth twitched, was fascinating. It was like watching a baby sleep.

  It occurred to me that I was very creepy, so I rolled over. I had a schedule to keep, even though the idea of leaving him alone didn’t feel like the right thing to do. In my calculation, I had just managed to overcome the first hurdle. The truth. I’d given him that much and he hadn’t run into the night screaming. He also hadn’t really had to face it. Maybe the fact that he didn’t watch porn would work in my favor. Maybe I needed to hook up with more clean-cut boys from Utah.

  Somehow, that idea didn’t seem very appealing, excluding the present company. Somehow, the idea of hooking up with anybody else didn’t seem as appealing to me in the morning light as it did the night before.

  He began to stir in bed and I bolted for the bathroom. I didn’t want to be caught sitting on the bed, looking creepy, and decided somehow that the sight of my ass making a dash for the bathroom was way less problematic. Why? I had no idea. But since I was already busy being not cool, there was no reason for me to be surprised.

  I turned on the shower, letting the water get much colder than I usually allowed. Although I was awake, I hadn’t had as much sleep as I should’ve, and I needed to wash away the dullness and lethargy in my body. I also wanted to remind myself that a hard-on was not the best response to the sight of a sleeping man. It was creepy. I was creepy. I was the creepy porn guy. Not good.

  The knock on the door made me physically jump.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Doug hummed from the other side. His voice was soft and husky, and I immediately knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my mind out of the gutter if he were to call my name in that tone.

  “Hey, just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”

  “Take your time,” he said.

  The drowsiness in his voice was like a siren song that went straight to my crotch. I rolled my eyes and stepped into the tepid shower, eliminating the warm water altogether as I lathered up. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, the smell of coffee had infused the air.

  “Why does that smell so good?”

  He walked over and handed me a cup.

  “I’m more than just a pretty face and a pleasant smile. I do refreshments as well,” he said with a slight bow. “I picked this blend up in Seattle and I make sure to snag a supply every time I get the chance. It’s heavenly.”

  He wasn’t lying. The brew was less bitter than others and had a slightly tart flavor chased with a hint of chocolate. I took a few sips before putting the cup down.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No, not at all. It's just that I have a photo shoot today and coffee is a no-no just before you get in front of the camera.”

  “Oh?” he looked embarrassed. I ruffled his hair.

  “But, it was delicious. Thanks,” I said, pushing him toward the bathroom.

  “So, you still have work?”

  “Yeah,” I wasn't enthusiastic about it. I should’ve been. Generally, I loved to be in front of the camera, but today’s shoot seemed like it was getting in the way of what I really should be doing; sealing the deal with Doug. The last thing we needed was for my work to interrupt the limited time we had together.

  “Do you want to come with me?” I bit the inside of my cheek the moment the words left my mouth. What the fucking hell? This was not a good idea.

  He paused at the bathroom door and looked me up and down for ten seconds before nodding.

  “You’ve been to my job, I might as well get to see you in action,” he said.

  “It’s a solo shoot, so you won’t have to see anything too…” What? Too explicit? He laughed.

  “So, you mean I won’t have to watch my potential boyfriend fuck other guys? You’re so kind!”

  “I just,” this was not going according to plan at all. “I just want you to see that it’s really work. We are real professionals, and when I go to work or I’m on set, I’m really working. It looks like a fun time, but it’s my job to make it all look like fun.”

  “I get it. As I said, I want to see you in action. Besides, you’re hot and talking about this is making me hard.”

  He adjusted the uncomfortable bulge in his pants before turning around and walking into the bathroom, locking the door behind himself. I didn’t dare to breathe until I heard the water running. It was good to know that I wasn't the only one feeling the pull. I looked at the bed with longing.

  “Come on, Champ. Time to make the donuts,” I told myself.

  We somehow made it through breakfast without incident, and I managed to remove my foot from my mouth long enough to say entire sentences without embarrassing myself. We were on a roll. But the slow progression of time was always on my mind. I kept waiting for one of us to lose their nerve and back out of today’s excursion. Luckily it was a studio shoot. I wasn’t sure he would be ready for a location shoot. Studio sessions felt more sanitized and professional. Location shoots could get messy and the line between work and play was easily blurred; especially if there was a club or a
bar nearby.

  Finally, it was too late to back out, and I had to drag him into my reality for better or worse. He looked at me as if he could sense that the flavor of our day together was about to take a serious left turn.

  “Time to go?”

  I nodded.

  “Should we get snacks?”

  “No, it's all good. Are you ready?”

  He took a deep breath and nodded. We waited outside the hotel for my car to arrive. He stood beside me casually, slipped his hand into mine and we waited in silence. We must have looked like a couple on the way to the hospital to visit an uncle with cancer. People looked at us and seemed to want to sympathize, but kept it moving because it was none of their business.

  I wasn’t scared. I was nervous. I knew my job really well. I knew what I had to do. I just wasn’t sure if Doug could accept it, and I was less sure than I had ever been that my career was worth sacrificing any possible romantic relationships. We rode to the studio together and I held his hand as we climbed the steps to Paolo’s workspace. It was an amazing loft, with large, wide windows and an amazing city view. It was the kind of place that was made for photography. I loved working with him in this space. It seemed like every shot was magic.

  “Max! Right on time,” he greeted me with a flourish, walking over and giving me a one-handed hug before turning to Doug. “Is this your scene partner? You didn’t tell me you would be doing couple’s shots.”

  “No, this is Doug. He’s my partner.”

  Paolo looked confused for a moment.

  “I mean like partner, partner, not scene partners or business partner.”

  “Oooh,” he said with a sly grin. “Mixing your business with pleasure? I didn’t think you were the type.”

  “No, not like that. I just wanted him to see it, you know. I want him to see what he’s getting into,” I said to Paolo, who scoured Doug’s skin with his eyes before turning to me and handing me a clipboard.

  “Standard stuff,” he said over his shoulder.

  “You can just take a seat anywhere. I have to get changed,” I said to an increasingly nervous-looking Doug.