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I Rented a Porn Star


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1992

The early 90's were so liberating for me -- in some ways. I'd accepted that I was a gay man, but had no idea what to do with that information. I went to the adult bookstore and bought porn mags and porn videos...and that was pretty much the extent of my sex life. I was barely in my 20's and could beat off four to five times an evening back then. Like most of us, straight and gay, I developed a special devotion to one or two porn stars in particular. There was one spectacular guy who I guess was one of the most famous gay idols of that period. I won't even use his initials here because some of you would know exactly who I'm talking about. He made some great videos and was mostly a top, but occasionally  bottomed. Some of his movies were strictly 'safe sex' and some were as raw as could be.  He did a lot of magazine spreads at the time. I'm sure the "profiles" were pure fiction, but I bought into the fantasy. My favorite photo was in a magazine called "Inches" and it just showed him sitting bare-ass on a couch with his huge, fat boner pointing straight up. The accompanying quote said something like "I love to feel a guy's throat muscles work on the shaft of my dick." I looked at that pic all the time and tried to imagine how in the world that would even fit in my mouth - let alone down my throat. 

I found out through one of the alternative newspapers they stacked in the lobby of my apartment building, that the guy I'll just call "Star" was in town for the weekend. He was going to be "dancing" at two different places. One was a porn movie theater on a street where two or three murders happened each week -- the other was at a gay bar I drove past all the time. I immediately called my friend Benjamin and told him the news. He knew already. Benjamin was a little short queen with a huge personality. He knew everybody and had been everywhere -- including the scary porn theater. I admitted how much I loved "Star" and really wanted to see him in person.

"And what do you think will happen?"

He was going to lecture me. He had that tone.

"Do you think your eyes will meet and he'll quickly whisk you off to his hotel and fuck your brains out?"

No, but yeah. I didn't know what I expected...maybe at least an autograph?

"Let me tell you about these guys. Most of them are fucked in the head and on every single drug you can name. They are smaller in person than they look on film. They all take steroids and that causes acne which they cover with heavy makeup. Some of them are straight , but your guy isn't. They are all out to hustle for a buck. Oh, and they have major STD's in every hole."

Is it crazy that none of this phased me in the least?

I kept him on the phone a little longer and begged him to go to that bar with me Saturday night.

"Can't. But I CAN share a little tidbit with you even though I probably shouldn't...."

I waited.

He sighed and then reported that Star was staying in town a few extra days to do escort work. Benjamin had no idea how much he charged or any other details except a phone number which I wrote down as he said each digit over the phone. 

"I have to go now. Do what you think you have to do, and call me afterward", he said as a goodbye. Click.

So Saturday came and I went out to tan, get a haircut and buy a few new shirts. I still imagined I'd be going to the bar that night. I even bought a few bottles off wine to chill. Around 8 pm, I got dressed and combed my hair several times. I still wasn't ready to do this so I poured a glass of wine and turned on some music. Nope. I couldn't make myself leave. I poured another glass, sat down with phone and called the number. Oh God, what if HE answered? No. He was probably out already. I got a messenger service and the very pleasant lady took my name and number. 

"Are you calling about having a meeting?". she inquired.

"No. Yes. Yes, I am."

"I'll make a note of that", she said sweetly.

We hung up and that was that. I'd never sleep now. I finished the bottle of wine and watched MTV until bleariness forced me to bed. 

I woke up with a slight headache the next morning, but some coffee and a few aspirin cleared that up fast. I looked at my phone like it was a bomb ready to explode.  What had I done?  I just wouldn't answer it if it rang...I'd take a shower, do some work and get myself collected for a new week. That's pretty much what I was doing when the bomb went off.... RING, RING, RING

"Hello?"

"Uh...is this Rodney?"

"Yes it is."

"If you don't know the voice - this is Star. You want to meet up pretty soon?"

My brain was connected directly to my crotch when my mouth said "Absolutely!"

"You sound young, Are you of legal age?" He sounded tired.

"I'm almost 23".

"OK. Here's the deal. You can come to where I am and stay for an hour-long date that'll cost you 150 dollars....or I can come to you for the same amount of time and it'll be 200 dollars. No checks. Cash only".

I was unprepared for any of this. "I'll come to you!"

He gave me the address and I was sort of surprised that it was very close to where I lived. Walking distance.

"I got poppers,grass and liquor and other assorted things. If you want rubbers, bring them yourself. 7 pm work for you?"

"Sure. I'll see you soon".

"Don't forget...cash only."

I knew just where he was. It wasn't a hotel -- it was a building full of furnished apartments. I also knew there was an ATM on that corner. Swell. Now I just had to make myself do it.  Wine! I had a full bottle that I could finish off in the next 90 minutes. A lot of my friends took Xanax and bragged about how wonderful it was, but my doctor was a mean old lady who would never prescribe something like that.  I turned my insides purple with wine that I quickly gulped while watching CNN. People were starting to talk about this Bill Clinton guy quite a bit. 

After emptying that bottle, I was cruising down the sidewalk. Condoms! I'd forgotten I was supposed to bring some. Oh whatever. Here was the ATM. I withdrew 300 bucks (that was my bank's limit) and just shoved the bills in my pocket. And then I was there at the building. Usually you have to be buzzed in to these places, but the door was open. Apartment # 14....

knock knock

And there HE was. The eyes and hair color was the only things I recognized. He looked somewhat obliterated. His face was sunken in like he was starving and his body was not nearly as Greek God-like as I imagined. He was just as tall as he looked on film. He looked like he'd just got out of bed. He was wearing a ratty Styx t-shirt, striped pajama bottoms and flip-flops. He hadn't showered in a day or two. But I looked at him brightly as if he were the idol I'd always imagined him to be. My face betrayed nothing. He broke into a smile of jacked-up yellowish teeth.

"Rodney??"

"Yep. That's me. I'm probably early. Sorry."

"No, no". he shook his head, "I was expecting anything except a normal guy".

He led me inside and closed the door.  "Let me make you a drink." 

I sat down on the brownest couch in the world and watched him futz around with drinking glasses and bottles in the kitchen. He was downright jovial at this point. He asked me a few questions about myself and listened like he was interested. And then I couldn't help but ask about his career in porn. Why did he never kiss any of his porn partners? Why did he always demand guys lick his ass but he never licked any ass?  Was it really different fucking with a condom? Who was his favorite costar? 

He made a hand motion for me to back off a little. I guess I was being a little too intrusive.

"The truth is that none of that matters because I can't get a contract with any studio now. I'm done".

"Why?"

He looked at me like I was slow, and simply said "I'm retired."

"Oh".

I took a sip from the powerful drink he'd concocted. I stared at the floating ice cubes and asked him about that particular photo spread in "Inches" that I loved so much. He was confused and so I tried to describe it a little...including the quote about being deep-throated "I probably had over a thousand  photos taken of me during the good old days and they paid me shit for them. And I never said those words. First of all - you can't fit a really big dick down some dude's throat. You can maybe get past the gag reflex a little, but not all the way down his fucking throat".

Oh. I took a deep swig from whatever kind of drink he'd given me. I didn't want all of my fantasies to crumble in the first ten minutes.

Maybe he sensed my disappointment. "Why? Would you like to try?", he said teasingly. He pulled his pajama bottoms down a little to reveal that magnificent penis in all its hard glory. He kicked off his flip-flops and stretched his long legs out, waiting. 

I could do it. I wanted this legendary cock all the way down my throat and thrusting toward my lungs. So i bent over his lap and started kissing the head, lapping up as much of the taste of him as I could. I moved lower down on his shaft when I felt my gag reflex protest and the wine in my stomach start to boil up. I fought onward, determined to feel his weapon in my actual throat. But then my air was cut off and I thought I'd pass out. I pulled away and started gasping. "That was an excellent try, little man!" he was sniffing a little brown bottle of what I knew where poppers.

"I know what would make it easier for you", he said as he led me to the bedroom. The bed was unmade and he pulled off all the sheets and told me to lay down the opposite way with my head hanging off the end of the bed. I took off my shoes and complied. He then stood behind me and hunched over a little> He drilled my mouth from that position, but the breathing problem kicked in again. I decided to just endure it as he moved deeper down. His pubes were on my chin when he announced,"You did it!"

I half-wondered if he'd cum when he was down there, but I doubted it because he still had a swinging hard-on. And still sniffing from his little brown bottle. He removed what little clothes he still had on and told me to do the same. Of course I did and, soon, we rolling around on the bed naked. My instinct was to kiss him on the mouth, but he kept dodging my attempts. OK. It was nice enough just to feel that giant dick slide up and down my chest and stomach. I felt I had already got my money's worth, but it wasn't over. He got up and stood at the foot of the bed again and then pulled me all the way down to the end. My bare ass was at the edge and he lifted my legs up and started tonguing my asshole. What?! He'd never done that on film before. It felt great but alien somehow. I was unsure how to process the sensations. It didn't last long, and then he was rubbing oil into me. Baby oil? Hand lotion? I had no idea because I was looking up at the stained ceiling and never saw the bottle or tube or whatever it was he had. "Bareback OK with you?", he asked.

I'd never heard that phrase except when it came to horse-riding, but I said "Yeah".

Then he pushed that famous head into me. It hurt like hell and I sat up to protest, but he held the poppers under my nose and told me to breathe deep. I did. My face got warm and my whole body seemed to relax except for my boner which got even stiffer. "One more". He help it out for me to take another huff. I inhaled and got very dizzy and wondered if this stuff was addictive or if it would give me a stroke or something. While I was wondering that, he was working that dick even further into me. It started to feel good...really good. And then he was thrusting in and out and my whole body reacted  -- including my brain. "You want my dirty cum, Little Man?". His breathing was heavy and I didn't have time to answer because he started jerking and deep thrusting and groaning. He was spent. His seed was now a part of me and that was worth way more than his escort fee. 

We lied in bed for awhile, just talking. He said, "You bled a lot".

"On the bed??" I was so embarrassed.

"Shhh. It's fine. I'm flying back to LA tomorrow. Let someone else worry about cleaning it'.

He seemed on the verge of passing out on the bloody bed, so I got up and got dressed. I wanted to go go home so badly. I thought he was passed-out as I left the whole three hundred dollars on his coffee table.  I'd skip my cable bill that month. As I made sure my keys were in my pocket, Star got up and crossed the room to see me out. Before he opened the door, we kissed. A long kiss that was like something out of the movies. 

"Good night, Rodney".

"Good night, Star".

That's when he told me his actual first name. I left, saying his name in my head over and over again.

Of course I got sick about three weeks after that. I knew what was happening to me. I was being consumed with my idol from the inside out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Guest bwayman

'His face was sunken in like he was starving and his body was not nearly as Greek God-like as I imagined.

It doesn't get hotter than that!  I'm rock hard form reading that paragraph.  

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  • 4 months later...

OMG! OMG! OMG!!

How hot!! We all have our own idol we want to bed. Mine is Michael Brandon. I rarely bottom but I would give my ass to his 11 inch monster whenever, however and yes, if I was closer to LA, I'd hire him!!!

How lucky for Rodney to get to realize his dream AND to get his lifelong souvenir. 

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  • 3 weeks later...
On ‎28‎.‎08‎.‎2017 at 8:47 AM, lynn1964 said:

OMG! OMG! OMG!!

How hot!! We all have our own idol we want to bed. Mine is Michael Brandon. I rarely bottom but I would give my ass to his 11 inch monster whenever, however and yes, if I was closer to LA, I'd hire him!!!

How lucky for Rodney to get to realize his dream AND to get his lifelong souvenir. 

Michael Brandon? Hell yeah! I'd let him breed me any time!!! :drool:

hooks7.thumb.JPG.d23517d0bf48fc0d4c4a5068307a59fa.JPG010-Michael-Brandon-Pounded-Down-Ragin-Stallion-Studios.thumb.jpg.4239ab83456916f1318b116ae04a92fb.jpg

On ‎20‎.‎04‎.‎2017 at 12:42 AM, bwayman said:

'His face was sunken in like he was starving and his body was not nearly as Greek God-like as I imagined.

It doesn't get hotter than that!  I'm rock hard form reading that paragraph.  

And I think he looks even hotter now than he did 10 years ago. Talking about sunken cheeks and stuff... ;)

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Edited by RotzBBengel
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