Boys of Disco City

by Zack

  Long-suffering, Steve grunted acknowledgment and slipped out of Chris. He rubbed himself gently to keep hard while Mike moved around the bench for the angle he needed. “Yup, that looks good. Okay, here we go again.”

  Mike leaned in right over Chris’s back, the lens pointing down his spine. Gil had to pull focus to keep the tip of Steve’s cock sharp as he pressed forward. “Go for it, Steve… Action!”

  Gil’s position at the front of the zoom lens meant his face was bare inches from the point of entry and he watched with fascination to see the thick cock, veins pulsing, push up against Chris’s ass cleft and then slowly press in. Gil had a hard-on. Not very professional for a pornographer, he thought wryly.

  After some twenty minutes filming, Aiden pronounced himself happy. By this time, Steve—for whom Chris held no real-life attraction, had also lost interest in coming off by fucking the boy. Aiden remonstrated with him, but Steve supplied the answer. “I’ll jus wank meself till I’m on the point, then stuff ’im quickly—if you’ve got yer cam’ra ready.” He glared at Mike, “Then I’ll give ’im a couple of fucks and pull out to shoot.”

  “Will that cut in, darling?”

  Mike agreed that it would. He adjusted his position to make sure he caught the action in frame.

  Steve commenced jacking himself energetically. After a minute, he gave a grunt and a warning wink at Mike, who ran up the Arri. Puffing with effort, Steve set his legs in position, pushed a hand down on Chris’s inert back and muttered, “’Ere we go.” He aimed his rock-hard tool at Chris’s ass and then rammed it in and fucked him hard, two, three, four times. As he pulled out he swayed forward at the hips and gave Chris’s back a hosing down. Mike instantly jerked the zoom lever back a touch, taken by surprise at just how hard Steve shot his copious load over the boy and how far the first spurts went.

  Steve’s performance impressed Gil, and not for the first time he wondered what that would feel like with his mouth over it or if it was deep in his own hole.

  Finished, Steve straightened, panting, head back looking up at the ceiling as though he couldn’t bear to see anyone watching him. Chris finally slumped down on the bench and rolled over.

  Aiden waved a cigarette enthusiastically. “Spectacular! Well done both of you.”

  “We’ll need a second angle.”

  Steve tensed and turned to glower in astonishment at Mike. “Yer kiddin, ain’t yer?”

  Mike shook his head. “Sorry, that’s how filming goes. We’ll need to see you shoot from at least two different angles.”

  “I can’t cum again, right now.”

  Aiden dismissed the little tantrum. “Oh, pish, pet. You know you love to come several times on the go.”

  Steve cut him off with a crusty expression. “Not just like that. Can’t do it now.”

  “That’s all right,” Mike soothed. “We can pick up another shot later, can’t we Aiden? Let’s just do some face close-ups now and then move onto the Geoff and Chris scene to give you a rest.”

  Steve rewarded Mike with a rare smile.

  Gil set the camera back on its tripod and Mike famed Steve’s face in close-up from a low angle. After some prompting, Steve pulled a series of “oh my god I’m about to come” faces and then a wonderfully ferocious grimace of agony for the moment of the orgasm.

  When he had finished, Aiden gently patted Steve’s now distended balls. “They’ll soon fill up again.”

  The next scene was intended to follow Steve’s exertions, showing Chris now servicing Geoff, who had just left the ring from—Gil assumed—a different bout. Still, logic wasn’t the point. Sex was. The scene gave Chris, who spoke little and infrequently, the opportunity to show off his sucking skills, which he had briefly announced were “pretty good.”

  His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw Geoff’s full twelve, thick, cut inches bopping in regular twitches on his lean stomach. No stripping in this one—both guys were bare-ass from the word go. Gil caught Mike’s eye in a secret wordless acknowledgment at the sight of Geoff laid back on the bench beside the boxing ring. Unlike Steve, he had no problem with being the center of admiration.

  Aiden came to stand over him bossily. “Now, dearest, we’ll film for about ten minutes, then the money shot. You will have to let us know when you’re a few seconds off to make sure we get it. Will you be able to do it twice in succession?”

  “No problem,” Geoff replied confidently.

  “Oh good. Mike, that means we can go for slow motion on the second time around.”

  Geoff straightened up to sit forward over the end of the bench. “I’ll show you how I like it,” he told Chris. He bent over and easily took his flaring cock head into his mouth and sucked himself with a rotating motion of the head.

  Aiden tutted. “Sweetheart, there’s no need to show off.”

  Geoff gave a self-satisfied smile and flopped back on the bench, ready.

  Chris got down to business and Mike shot the action from several angles. The gym attendant worked hard, producing a lot of saliva so he could struggle to deep throat the towering column of inflated flesh. Gil’s own arousal made his muscles clench. The kid definitely had a technique he wouldn’t mind having practiced on himself, not that he matched the mighty Geoff for length or girth. It was equally evident that Geoff enjoyed the attention. Faces, hands, cock-swallow, working lips, faces, hands, cock; medium shots and close-ups, Mike got them all.

  Geoff signaled he was ready, reached out to take Chris behind his ears and began humping his butt up off the bench. To give due where deserved, Chris took everything Geoff threw at him. He treated the boy’s head like a milking machine in a fast, mind-blowing throat fuck. He wasn’t even panting much as he roughly jack-hammered Chris’s head up and down, meeting each thrust with a hefty butt-lift to shove himself in as deeply as he could.

  “I’m going to shoot.”

  He released Chris, who fell back slightly so that only the tip of his tongue continued to work Geoff’s winking cum slot. Then he let loose with ropes of pearly cum, some arching over to land on his upper chest, the rest coating Chris’s cheeks and lips, some jets going straight into the boy’s open mouth.

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” Aiden applauded. Gil looked up to see Mike eyeing him. They both communicated the same thing: Wow.

  “Now the slow motion.” Aiden said.

  The command didn’t faze Geoff. He relaxed back and began jerking his slippery tool back to full hardness. “Gimme me a couple of minutes.” Mike moved the camera to get a different angle, more in the line of fire, he whispered conspiratorially to Gil, with a sly smile. He fiddled with the camera motor to set its speed up to its highest rate, and got ready for the word from Geoff.

  “Give me at least ten seconds warning,” Mike said. “It takes a bit longer to get up to high speed for slo-mo.”

  Everybody stood and watched Geoff jerk himself until he ground out, “It’s coming in ten…” He waved at Chris, who retook his original position, ready to take over with his mouth from Geoff’s furiously pumping fist. Mike ran the camera up to speed and bent to the viewfinder.

  “Okay… go, go, go!”

  Geoff dropped his hand away and Chris slipped his mouth over the palpitating cock for only a second before the first burst squirted from between his lips and Geoff’s cock head. Chris pulled back and Geoff jizzed another fountain of cum, amazingly as vigorous as the first. At very high speed the camera’s motor made a distinct whirr, even over the background disco mixes. Geoff’s cock ceased its ejaculations and his head dropped down on the hard bench with a thump. At that moment the Arri clattered as the film roll ran out and, freed of the load, its motor whined loudly.

  Almost time to wrap, but after Gil had changed film rolls, they quickly got Steve’s second orgasm over Chris’s back. And that was it for Chr
is.

  “Tomorrow, it’s just you two puppies,” Aiden announced as he prepared to shepherd Chris to the shower first and then the office for his payment.

  Steve gave Geoff a grouchy scowl. Geoff seemed unmoved. That one just thinks of himself, Gil realized.

  Sunday. A brighter fall day than yesterday. Mike and Gil got to the Muswell Hill studio early again, much earlier than was proper for a Sunday, but Aiden wanted everything in the can by the end of the day. Three scenes were to make the climax, the first two shot in the boxing ring. By this time in the movie Steve and Geoff had stopped boxing and were now wrestling on the ring’s mat. In no time at all, boots and shorts came off. Of course, neither wore anything like a jock strap or a genital guard. Aiden wanted no interruptions to the essential action.

  Gil was back on the fuller’s earth as Mike filmed the boys switch from wrestling to sixty-nining. Steve kept up a barrage of moans at Aiden. “I’m not fuckin suckin ’im.”

  “Yes, you are, pet. It’s no point in arguing. You know you like it really.”

  Geoff certainly did, at least getting blown. Gil noticed he only gave perfunctory attention to Steve, and only when the camera lens turned on him.

  Steve’s complaints turned to outright rebellion when Aiden asked them to tighten up so that they could begin rimming each other. The truth was, while it was clear Steve didn’t like Geoff, and absolutely didn’t want to stick his tongue into the other’s beautifully showered crack, he was also a trouper. Again, Geoff got away with the odd lap, but Steve got stuck in and gave Mike some beautiful shots of his strong tongue working Geoff’s pucker like the pro he was.

  Eventually, Aiden pronounced himself happy with the result. Time to move to the scenes where the two boxing lovers took turns to get the other off. “Best done as jack offs for the sake of the poor punters who want to see some hot cock action and a nice clear money shot.”

  Geoff came up with an idea to add some piquancy to his cum shot. “I could do this upside down, if Steve kneels here by the ropes to hold me.”

  Steve griped, but did as he was told. Geoff lay down beside him, lifted his legs into the air and hooked the back of his knees over the topmost rope. With a push up from the floor, he sidled himself into position with his back supported on Steve’s knees and jiggled until he was pretty much upside down.

  Mike hurriedly positioned the camera as Geoff took a firm grip on his already stiff monster cock and began jerking. Mike changed angles a couple of times, finally settling on one a few feet off the deck, angled so as to take in Steve’s (currently immobile) face, Geoff’s below, the length of his stretched torso, and the monumental length of sculpted blood-engorged tissue which he had forced straight out away from his stomach. The contortion looked painful, but when Aiden asked him if it was working, Geoff grunted that it most definitely was, and he wouldn’t take too long.

  Steve frowned. “Point the fucker away from me face, will yer!”

  “Now, pet, don’t be difficult. You’ve tasted cum before—”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Well,” Geoff hissed, “it’s on its way… aaah, ooh yesss…”

  He strained off the ropes, which had the effect of bringing the tip of his cock to within a few inches of trapped Steve’s face. Steve flinched as a mighty gush of cum streaked from the flaring slit to plaster his cheek.

  “Go down on him,” Aiden commanded urgently.

  Steve’s expression was hardly that of a lover receiving a gift, but he did as ordered with only a hint of reluctance. He leaned forward and managed to get his mouth sideways on to Geoff’s cock. His doing so gave the camera a perfect view of Geoff coating Steve’s extended tongue with frothing cum. Afterward, Steve made a business out of going out to the bathroom to “puke and wash up.”

  Aiden shrugged, beaming proudly after the shoulder-hunched retreating figure. “What a little puppy dog. He loves it really.”

  Finally, came Steve’s turn. Aiden arranged Geoff to sit on the studio floor, leaning back against the side of the raised boxing ring, so he could cradle Steve, who half-sat, half-lay on the floor against him, his strong legs stuck out straight and well spread. At that point someone stuck an apologetic head around the studio door and informed Aiden there was an urgent phone call for him.

  “Sorry, I’d better take it. Well… you know what to do.”

  After some consulting with Gil, Mike placed the camera on the floor between Steve’s ankles, twisting the viewfinder up so he could peer down into it. From this extreme angle he could see the ropes of the boxing ring at the top of the frame, part of Geoff’s head peering over Steve’s shoulder, and all of Steve down to the knees. The lens had a good close shot of Steve’s taut balls and thick flaccid cock. Beyond the ropes the dark ceiling set off the two actors in a good mix of key-to-fill light.

  Aiden had planned for Geoff to give Steve a hand job, but Steve shook him off. “Jus hold me up, will yer. I’ll wank meself off. You’ll get the best result that way.” For the second time, he cracked a grim smile, aimed at Mike but which sidled up to take in Gil. “You might wanter put a piece of glass over that.”

  Mike grinned back. “In your dreams. You won’t get it this far.”

  Steve snorted contemptuously. He reached down and took himself in hand, rapidly jacking up a good boner. Mike started filming, zooming in to get a close shot of Steve’s chunky face, an attractive picture of concentration, obviously lost in his own fantasy.

  After only a minute, his hand action speeded up and he began to strain back against Geoff, who seemed vacantly in his own world as well. Steve used his left hand to cup around above his balls, making a cock ring. Then his right hand slipped to the base of his now swollen dick, charged with blood flow.

  “I’m cummin,” he breathed out.

  A small flow bubbled from the slit, immediately followed by a huge stream that shot at least three feet into the air, arcing like a glittering laser beam caught in the cross lighting against the dark ceiling. Gil heard the loud splat as the jism landed square on Mike’s head. Steve fired off three more massive spurts that homed in like well trained artillery fire to plaster Mike’s hair to his forehead before the trajectory of the last six silky bullets fell short of the camera lens.

  If Steve was a trouper, so too was Mike. That his lover kept on filming right through the creamy bombardment filled Gil with pride. He reached down to touch Mike sympathetically and realized Mike was shaking. “You okay?” suddenly concerned.

  Mike switched off the camera and rolled sideways, convulsed with laughter. As he sat up, he wiped a hand over the sticky runnels of Steve’s jism that ran down over his eyelids and along his nose. “You fucker, you creamed me,” he said. But the words had no sting, and he was still laughing as he defiantly licked at a sticky finger.

  “Warned yer.” Steve grinned back.

  “Now it’s my turn to go and get cleaned up. Look after the camera, will you, Gil?”

  Steve rolled sideways and slowly got to his feet, seemingly unconcerned now at his nakedness. As Gil straightened up with the Arri in his hands, he asked Steve, “What were you thinking off while you did that? I could see your mind was on something…?”

  “I was thinking of ’im, yer mate.”

  “Oh.”

  Steve leaned in close, almost overwhelming Gil with the heady scent of his male sweat and post-cum lubrication. “I thought of the camera as ’im crawling closer to take care of me cum-job.” He nodded his head with street wisdom. “And,” he whispered wickedly, “I was thinkin the same of you.” With that he reached down, gave Gil’s cock a companionable tug through his jeans, and smiled as he felt it automatically stiffening. “Reckon we’d make a good threesome some day.”

  And with that he strolled off casually in the direction of the hall and bathroom.

  “Wh
at was that all about?” Aiden asked as he came back from the office.

  “Uh, oh nothing much. Just boasting.”

  “That’s my happy puppy. After screwing, boasting’s what they do best.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Taste the Big Apple

  Lots happened over the next two weeks. With the help of Jim, Mike got the film through the labs and a set of color rush prints for the editing process. He, Gil, and Aiden viewed the rushes (what Gil knew as “dailies”) at Muswell Hill on a 16-mm projector hired for the occasion, and everyone expressed themselves very pleased at the results. Gil used his natural charm to persuade Trevor to do some moonlight editing in one of Rex’s cutting rooms. Mike’s U.S. visa application form came through. (“…‘are you or have you ever been a member of a communist organization?’ Nope. ‘Are you a homosexual?’ How do I answer that?”

  “‘Nope,’ obviously.”)

  The production at Pinewood wrapped, throwing both boys out of work, but Jim at the Union fixed them up with another movie going into production at the studio complex at Elstree in another month, so that wasn’t too bad as far as income went.

  Gil received his permit to stay in the U.K. from Lunar House in Croydon, subject to annual review. Mike’s brother William turned eighteen and attempted to celebrate by tempting Gil into bed with him, which he manfully resisted… well, just. And Damien Foot rang to say that the New York trip to film at a big club called Subway was on for a week’s time, to visit Paradise soon to get all the details.

  London Gatwick Airport on a dull Thursday morning in the first week of December. Mike, Gil, Rod, and Damien Foot trudged down the jetway to board the Laker Airlines DC-10 bound for New York JFK. The three film-makers were in fine spirits, looking forward to the trip. Damien was grumpier, telling his companions that his New York club colleague might have made better flight arrangements than the no-frills airline they were condemned to for almost seven hours. In accordance with Rosen’s request, he hadn’t informed the others who had actually set up this deal.