Playing Dirty

by G. A. Hauser

  “I could ring his mobile. He always answers that.”

  “Up to you.” Carl exited the elevator.

  “You’re right. It is early. I’ll leave him a message.” Keith called the office number again. “Adam? Keith. We were thinking of dropping by your office to hand deliver the contract from Carl. Let us know how late you’ll be there.” He hung up, set the envelope behind the seat, and buckled up.

  “Camera and dress rehearsal today.”

  Keith caught the glimmer in Carl’s eye. “You want to spank me?”

  “Why not?” Carl shrugged, waiting for the iron gate of the parking garage to roll back.

  “I just never knew you had the urge. You know you can do it any time you want.”

  “No. Not really. I just think it’ll be fun. I’m not really into it.”

  “You just want to tease me.” Keith rubbed Carl’s knee.

  “You want to know why I really want to do it?”

  “Tell me.”

  “All this talk and bravado about doing gay porn. I know you could never do it. You get so embarrassed by everything we do together on that set.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “How so?” Carl paused at a stop sign.

  “By the look of the gay porn we saw at that club…”

  “Yes?”

  “It appears that there are several guys naked at the same time, all walking around with big woodies. So? Everyone on that set is used to it.”

  “You’re sticking your dick into holes. And dicks are being stuck into you.”

  “And you get paid to boot!”

  Carl laughed. “You are all talk.”

  Shrugging, Keith replied, “If it comes out we’re gay and I get blacklisted? I’d do it. Ya gotta eat, Carl. And I’m sick of those pathetic commercials I did a year ago.”

  “Yeah, huh. Okay. We’ll see how you do today getting your buttocks smacked.”

  “It isn’t the same.” Keith smiled, staring out the window.

  “Good morning, boys.”

  Carl thought Charlotte seemed a lot happier now that they agreed to stop seeing the models. The paparazzi had vanished as well, so Carl assumed they were yesterday’s news.

  “Hello, Ms. Deavers. Ready for another round of x-rated film?”

  “X-rated? Please!” She waved her hand. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be pretending.”

  Keith pointed at her. “Porn.”

  “Yes! I’d love to direct gay porn.” She mused. “But that’s a man’s world, I’m afraid.”

  “You are so dirty!” Carl laughed. “What does your husband think of all this?”

  “He tolerates it. He calls me a gay man in a woman’s body.”

  Keith choked up with laughter.

  “You’re a riot, Charlotte.” Carl shook his head in awe at her.

  “Go. Get into your outfits. Make sure Mel knows you’ll be stripping Keith’s pants down his bum. Make it easy.”

  Carl held Keith’s arm and directed him to wardrobe. “She is so damn funny.”

  “I do adore her.” Keith looked back over his shoulder.

  Seeing Melvin sorting through clothing racks, Carl greeted him. “Hey, Mel.”

  “Hi, Carl.”

  “You have some Velcro slacks on there?”

  “Velcro?” Melvin stared at him strangely.

  “Yes. Rip away pants?” Carl started laughing. “I swear I won’t be able to do this scene with a straight face.”

  Keith poked his finger into Carl’s face. “You’d better! If you think I’m going to do this scene take after take so you can make my ass raw, you’re insane.”

  “Whoa!” Mel gasped. “Make your ass raw? What am I missing?”

  “I’ll be spanking his tight butt. Charlotte wants you to make sure I can tug his slacks down from behind.” Carl watched Melvin’s expression.

  “I have to see this.”

  “Here we go!” Keith threw up his hands. “Sideshow attraction.”

  “No. Practice for ‘gay porn’.” Carl laughed, kicking off his shoes.

  “Gay porn?” Melvin choked.

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s loony.” Keith twirled his finger by his own head.

  “You want to do gay porn, call Chi Chi LaRue.” Melvin handed Carl his outfit.

  “I’m joking.” Keith slid his jeans down his legs.

  “Who is Chi Chi LaRue?” Carl asked.

  “Only the best damn gay porn director on the planet.”

  Carl gestured to Keith. “There. You have a name.”

  “Shut up,” Keith laughed.

  “Here. These are slightly worn at the button and zipper. Look.” Melvin tugged at the ends and they opened quickly.

  “Perfect.” Carl started laughing as he stepped into his character’s clothing.

  “You’re loving this,” Keith accused.

  “Duh!” Carl fastened his slacks. “By the way, Mr. Innocent, what did you tell Ms. Deavers when she asked for your input?”

  “Carl! Hush!” Keith rolled his eyes at Mel.

  “Enough said.”

  “That reminds me. Sunday, call M.R.”

  “M.R.?” Carl paused, thinking. “Oh! Yes.”

  Keith was hoping he didn’t have to say Mark’s name out loud with Mel there. Sliding on the pants, Keith tested the zipper. He barely touched them and they opened. “My luck they’ll drop to my ankles during filming.”

  “Isn’t that the idea?” Mel helped Carl button his shirt.

  “No. Just during the big, fat wallop scene.” Carl broke up with laughter.

  “I’ll give you a big fat one.” Keith narrowed his eyes at his lover.

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Augh! I’m in heat! Cut it out you two!” Melvin started fanning himself. “Go! Get lost. Go see Ken for your make-up.”

  As Melvin hurried them along, Keith and Carl exchanged wicked grins. “You are so going to get it.”

  “Be careful,” Keith warned, “payback is a bitch.”

  Standing on his spot on the set, Carl tried to compose himself. The last thing he wanted to do was laugh and break the scene. It only wasted time and he grew weary doing things again and again.

  “Okay. Camera rehearsal. Ready guys?”

  “Yes.” Carl lost his silliness from earlier and tried to get into character.

  “Bedroom fight scene. Camera rehearsal. Action!”

  “Don’t look at me like that!” Keith shouted.

  “Like what, Dennis?” Carl closed in on Keith quickly.

  “Like you’re going to kill me.”

  “You think you’re funny? Humiliating me?” Carl grabbed Keith by the arm.

  “I didn’t mean to. You took it the wrong way, Troy.”

  Carl dragged Keith to the bed and sat down, forcing Keith over his lap so Keith was lying over his thighs against the mattress.

  “What are you doing?” Keith yelled.

  Carl could feel Keith tense up in anticipation. Inhaling deeply, Carl slipped his fingers into Keith’s slacks and briefs and tugged. He was stunned at how easy they were to peel off. Suddenly, Keith’s fantastic ass was bare. “You deserve this.” Carl grew erect at the sight.

  “Troy! I didn’t do it!”

  Craving the touch, Carl let go a slap to Keith’s bottom. The noise reverberated around the studio and made Keith jump and groan. It was so seductive, Carl licked his lips hungrily and slapped him again. Redness rose on Keith’s bare skin. Carl was in heat and struggling to compose himself. They should have played like this together to get used to it. What a turn on!

  “Troy! Stop it!”

  After running his hand over Keith’s heated flesh, Carl spanked him again, nice and hard.

  “Ow!” Keith flinched.

  “You hot mother fucker,” Carl snarled, unscripted unable to prevent it from slipping over his tongue. Carl nudged Keith off his lap, stood behind him, and tore those loose slacks down Keith’s legs. Once Keith’s lower half was exposed, Carl unzipped his
pants, knowing damn well he was hard as a rock from the foreplay. In order to hide it, he knelt down before he lowered his briefs. Once he was concealed between Keith’s legs and against the bed, Carl grabbed Keith’s hips and shoved his hard cock under Keith’s body to keep it out of sight. Dripping with sweat from the excitement, Carl remembered his line. “I’m the man in this relationship, sweetheart. Not you. Never forget that.”

  “Ah! Yes, Troy.”

  “You listen to my advice, Dennis. You hear me? It’s the best for both of us.” Carl pumped his dick under Keith’s body. If he kept it up, he could come. Just the sight of Keith’s tight red ass was making him salivate.

  “Yes! Yes, Troy. I know. I’m sorry.”

  Carl simulated a climax. It must have sounded authentic because Keith looked over his shoulder to see him. Pretending he had finished, Carl backed up, covering his crotch with the tail of his shirt. He stayed still knowing if he moved and the shirt gapped, he’d be exposed to the crew and camera.

  “I love you. I know you’re only looking out for us. I’m sorry, Troy.” Keith turned around on the bed, his back facing the cameras. When he did, Carl could see his erection.

  “Cut!”

  The assistant with the sheet raced over, concealing them. Carl drew up his clothing and wiped the dripping sweat from his face.

  Once he was decent, Keith leaned against Carl. “You survive? I thought you were going to slip it in.”

  “I wanted to, believe me.” Carl allowed Ken to mop his brow as Charlotte discussed different angles and lighting. “How’s your ass? Did I hit you too hard?”

  “No. Loved it.”

  Carl watched Ken’s eyes dart to Keith. Sure, Keith and I aren’t gay lovers, sure. And I have a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.

  “Nice one, boys!” Charlotte announced. “Once again.”

  “You calmer now?” Keith whispered.

  “A little.”

  “The novelty will wear off. I assure you.”

  “Yes. I know.” He smiled gratefully at Keith. After Keith gave Carl’s arm an affectionate squeeze, he stood on his spot to start the scene again.

  Carl took a deep breath. I get paid for this! I get paid to smack my lover’s ass and fuck him! Jesus, maybe those gay porn stars have the right idea.

  Two takes later and Keith’s ass was raw. The last scene they had to tape in the late afternoon was dialogue only with Omar and Cheryl. By five Keith was worn out and very glad it was Friday.

  The new episode in his hand, Keith followed Carl to the car, feeling a burning sensation on the skin of his butt. Sitting slowly in the low slung passenger seat of the Corvette, Keith exhaled a deep painful sigh as he settled in.

  “I am so sorry.” Carl started the car. “Keith. Let me take care of you when we get home.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “No. Jesus. I ended up hitting you a dozen times.”

  “We have to stop by Adam’s office.” Keith reached for the envelope in the back seat and cringed.

  Carl looked at him, a worried expression on his face. “I’m sorry. Oh God, I should have realized how many takes it would be and how many hits you’d endure.”

  “I said I’m okay.” Keith rested the envelope on his lap.

  “Let me run it in. You sit in the car.”

  “Fine.” Keith didn’t want to move. His skin was on fire.

  “Where is it?”

  Keith directed him to Adam’s downtown office. After twenty minutes in rush hour, Carl parked in a crowded lot. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” Keith smiled. When Carl vanished, he moved stiffly, removing his seatbelt and tilting in the seat to get off his burning butt. “Holy shit. Good thing I have two days to recover.” Running his hand along his aching bottom, Keith winced at the sting. Closing his eyes, he relived the scene. Carl stripping his slacks off and spanking him. Humiliating? Exhilarating?

  Carl’s dick was hard each time, and he slid it under Keith’s body to hide it. But it felt so damn good under his own rigid dick. It would have been perfect if he hadn’t had to do it three times. And Carl was so keyed up by the excitement he hit him hard. Keith knew Carl didn’t mean to hurt him. It was passion. And Keith would have loved it, if…

  If he didn’t have to get hit over and over.

  “Thank fuck it’s Friday.” A thought occurred to him. “Sunday. Sunday at one. Mark Richfield, I cannot wait to get my hands on you. Don’t back out. Don’t back out.”

  Keith peered at the entrance, waiting for Carl. He needed to get home and take off his tight jeans.

  Noticing the script on the floor of the car, Keith picked it up, laid it on the driver’s seat and flipped through it. Reading the italicized directions, Keith grew hard. “A three-way already? Wait. I have to ask Mark. Oh, Charlotte, how could you write it in so soon?” Keith bit his lip as he read the dialogue. “How on earth are you getting away with this?” Censorship? What censorship? Keith imagined as long as no one’s actual penis was shown, and she did the sex scenes in fast MTV-style quick clips, she could simulate all sorts of sexual acts. “Ah, good old cable television.” Keith heard the driver’s door open. He grabbed the script and managed to sit upright.

  “Oh, baby.” Carl pouted in sympathy.

  “I’m all right.” Keith lied, clipping on his seatbelt. “What did Adam say?”

  “He said he’d get Jack right on it.”

  “Cool.”

  “I’ll be glad when I don’t have to deal with Cole. At least Adam will legitimately try to get me good parts. Cole won’t any longer.”

  “True.”

  “Aw, Keith. I feel so guilty. I never should have suggested to Charlotte I should spank you.”

  “Oh? You’d rather my face be this sore? No thanks.”

  “Let me get you home where I can rub some cream into it.”

  “That sounds nice.” Keith tried to ease off his right side, the more tender of his two cheeks.

  “Hang in there.”

  “Did Adam say anything else?”

  “He did. He asked me if you’d dress up as a woman.”

  “What.” Keith responded flatly.

  “There’s a romantic comedy that you’re being considered for.”

  “Oh.” Keith nodded.

  “He said he’d find out more about it and send you the script. Something about staring with Ashton Kutcher and pretending to be his sister until you fall for his girl. A silly one.”

  “Oh.”

  “You in drag?” Carl laughed. “You’d be way too convincing as a woman.”

  “Shut up. I am not pretty,” Keith argued, having been told he was too pretty by Adam nearly led to him refusing the part in Forever Young.

  “You are, Keith.”

  “No. Mark Richfield is pretty. I look like a man.”

  “True. If you compare yourself to him…”

  “Thank you.” Keith tilted in the seat again. “Christ, why does LA have so much traffic?”

  “Hang in there.” Carl held his hand.

  Coming through the door of their apartment, Carl tossed his keys and the script down and walked directly to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Scanning the salves and creams, he found some rich emollient moisturizer and hurried back to the living room.

  Keith had kicked off his shoes and was lying face down on the sofa.

  “Poor thing. Take off your pants.”

  “That’s what got me into this mess.” Keith worked on his zipper and dragged his jeans down his legs.

  Carl sat on the floor next to him. Keith’s bottom was still red. Squeezing out some cream on his hand, Carl smoothed the cooling lotion over Keith’s burning flesh.

  “Ahhh…” Keith moaned, loosening his tight muscles to sag into the cushions.

  “That’s it, baby. You relax.”

  “You’re a bully.”

  “No, I’m not. I just get carried away by your looks.” Carl massaged Keith’s tush lovingly. “And your groans. Did you have to soun
d so sensual? Man. The noises you were making caused me to ooze come, lover.”

  “Mm,” Keith moaned in pleasure, raising his ass off the sofa.

  “Yes. Like that.” Carl squeezed more lotion onto his hands. “Does it feel good?”

  “Mm…” Keith humped the couch as if he was making love to it.

  “You know this is what got you into trouble in the first place.” Carl grew hard watching Keith’s movements. “And you think Richfield is sex incarnate? Hello? Look in the mirror, hot stuff.”

  Keith faced Carl. “I should grow my hair like he has.”

  Capping the lotion, Carl set it on the coffee table and pushed a lock of long hair back from Keith’s eyes. “It appears Adam is growing his as well. It seems Mark has a very strong influence on those who meet him.”

  “Why the heck isn’t he an actor?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he hasn’t thought of that as a career direction before.”

  “Did you get what he does for a living?”

  “No. We’ll have to ask him that.” Carl kissed Keith’s butt cheek.

  “Think he’ll reconsider?”

  “If you had a chance to have sex with us, would you do it?” Carl ran his hand over Keith’s ass again, gently.

  “Hell yeah.”

  Carl shrugged.

  “Rub more cream on me.”

  “Sure.” Carl grabbed the bottle. “I’m hungry. How about I order us something?”

  “Yes, please.” Keith closed his eyes.

  As Carl squeezed another blob of cream on his palm, he asked, “Chinese or pizza?”

  “Chinese.”

  “You got it.” Carl massaged Keith’s ass lovingly, knowing later that night, he’d be inside it.

  Chapter Twelve

  By Sunday afternoon Keith was feeling perfect and wondering if Mark was still interested. As the hour of one approached, he sat down on the sofa and dialed Mark’s mobile phone number.

  “Hullo?”

  Keith was instantly turned on by his accent. “Hey.”

  “Oh, hullo, Keith.”

  “Are you alone?” Keith purred, imagining Mark naked.

  “I am. Steve’s at his mum and dad’s for a barbeque.”

  “Still interested?” Keith found Carl listening as he filled a carafe for a fresh pot of coffee.