Page 23

I was the first person on set this time, and made an immediate beeline for Dorian and Emmett, where they were standing and speaking quietly to each other.

Emmett looked at me first, an easy smile spreading across his face as his eyes flicked down my front.

I'd only been given a pair of white boxer briefs for the shoot, ones that clung to my skin and were the tiniest bit silky, highlighting every ridge and bump of my cock, and I could already tell that they were going to turn practically translucent when my cock started leaking in them.

If Tristan didn't get them off me first.

"Hey, Xan," Emmett said, winking.

"Looking good."

Dorian chuckled, and the smile he offered me was just as easy.

"Everything okay with today's script?" he asked, a little more serious than his husband.

"I figured we would go a little easier on you after the last scene."

I squirmed a little at the mention of the last scene, nodding.

"Yeah, it's fine," I said, looking down at the bundle of papers that were still clutched in my hand.

"A little..."

"Ridiculous?" Dorian supplied when I trailed off.

He chuckled at my nod, and he nodded.

"Yeah, well, we're not being paid for realism, are we?"

He winked, and my shoulders relaxed as I laughed.

He was right; Cole had told me in that first interview.

We were selling a fantasy.

And the scene that we were playing out today...well, I'd searched for this very video myself when I was young and had just discovered porn.

I chatted with Emmett for a few more minutes while the crew around us swirled and got the sets and lighting all right, and by the time Tristan wandered onto set, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a backwards baseball cap over his curls, I was ready to get started.

The nerves that had plagued me for the first two shoots that we'd done were nowhere to be found as I smiled up at him, and he winked down at me before leaning down to brush his lips over my cheek.

"Ready, baby?" he murmured, quietly enough that it was for my ears only.

Butterflies burst to life in my stomach, and I smiled up at him.

The energy between us was different today, warmer and more intimate, and I knew that this was going to be a fun scene, not just hot.

After all, we weren't just coworkers anymore.

We were...more.

Still hadn't decided what that more was yet, but I was looking forward to finding out.

"Ready," I agreed, glancing over at Dorian and Emmett.

The pair were looking at us with warm smiles, as if we were the cutest things on the planet, and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling as I reached up and ran a hand through my hair.

"Ready, gentlemen? Or did you want to enjoy the show some more?"

Tristan snickered, and Emmett's eyes brightened a little as he lifted his camera and took a quick shot.

He looked down at the screen, then smirked. "Ready."

Dorian nodded.

"Alright, everyone off set!"

The crew scattered from the set and Tristan winked at me before I walked into set, making my way past the faux kitchen and couch that were in the middle of the room.

In the corner there was a full-sized washer and dryer combo, though the dated dials told me that these poor machines had been long out of commission before they'd been requisitioned to star in porn.

Yes, we were doing a stuck in the dryer video.

A trope that I'd enjoyed multiple times when I'd first figured out that I was gay, and now...Well, now I was going to be providing that same fantasy for others.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing a little as I came to a stop in front of the machine, glancing over my shoulder at Dorian and Emmett and arching an eyebrow.

"We good?"

One of the crew tweaked one of the lights one more time under Dorian's critical gaze, and then he looked at me, nodding with a smile.

"There's a mic in there, so don't worry about being too loud.

Go ahead."

I nodded and opened the door to the dryer, ducking and sticking my entire head and shoulders inside.

It was empty in there, of course, and I saw the tiny microphone that Dorian had been referring to positioned in the corner where it would be able to catch every sound that fell from my lips.

Again, the absurdity of my job made my shoulders shake as I struggled to contain a laugh, and I shuffled my feet apart to make sure that I was stable as I rested inside the machine.

The opening was just wide enough for my shoulders with some finagling, but if I wasn't careful, I could genuinely get stuck in here.

The thought sobered me a little as I heard some shuffling from outside the machine, and then Dorian called, "Action!"

I shifted back and forth between my feet, my breathing sounding very loud in my ears suddenly, and then I heard the "front door" of the apartment slamming shut.

"Jay, I'm home!"

Tristan's voice was loud and casual as he called out my stage name, and I bit back a snort, sinking my teeth into my lower lip to keep myself from letting out any unwanted sounds.

James McQueen was my porn star name, and I had to admit that I liked it, even though I'd had absolutely no input from Cole before the first video was put up.

It was funny to hear myself referred to as it, though.

"Hey," I called out, remembering myself.

My voice cracked a little as I said the line, and a few moments later, I heard a soft sound of surprise from behind me as Tristan "stumbled" on me.

"Everything okay, Jay?" Tristan's voice was warm and deeply amused, and my cock twitched in my pathetic costume at the sound of it.

I'd already been half hard at the thought of the fucking that I already knew that I was going to get, but the sound of his voice hurried the process along, making me shift again, as if in discomfort.

"Um.

Yeah.

In a bit of a predicament here, in case you can't tell." I let out a little laugh, trying to sound awkward, the way I would if we were actually roommates and he had stumbled on me like this.

That would be embarrassing as fuck.

"Mm.

I can see that.

Want to tell me what the hell you were doing to get jammed in there like that?" Tristan snickered, and I could just imagine him leaning against the wall as he looked at me, his eyes lingering on my bare lower back and my ass where the silky white underwear stretched, showcasing everything.

And just like that, I was rock fucking hard and my hole was twitching, already loosened and fucking ready for Tristan's cock.

I bit back a tiny whimper at the though and forced myself to continue along the meager script we'd been given, even though everything inside of me was ready to start begging already.

"Um, laundry?"

I laughed again, the sound a tiny bit more strained, and Tristan hummed before steps vibrate against the floor by my bare feet.

I'm not acting when the soft touch on my lower back makes me jump, and Tristan strokes my skin with the rough tips of his fingers.

"Is that why you're wearing these slutty little boxers, hmm?" He clicked his tongue reproachfully as he teases his finger under the elastic, snapping it against my skin with a subtle sting.

"These would be see-through if they were wet, you know."

I could feel the tip of my cock already leaking, soaking through the fabric, and I knew that he was right.

I was sure that the camera had found the best angle to showcase how fucking hard I was outside of this machine, and my cheeks burned at the thought.

The humiliation only added to the scene, though, and I swallowed before I managed, "Um, right.

Well, laundry day, what can you do? Can...can you help me get out?"

I made sure to tip my voice up at the end of the sentence, as if I were actually asking, and the soft rumble of contemplation that Tristan let out at my words made the muscles of my ass clench, almost without my permission.

"Are you sure that's what you want, pretty boy?" he asked, his voice suddenly lower.

Before I could answer, his hands were on my ass, gripping firmly over the silky fabric.

The sudden, possessive touch made me gasp, and I bit back a tiny whimper as Tristan massaged the muscle of my buttocks before releasing.

Pain burst to life with a sharp slap that landed over the fabric, and that made me let out a soft whine.

"Um.

Lance.

Dude." I forced my rough voice into some semblance of calm and steady, swallowing hard before I continued, "I'm straight..."

It was the part of the script that had made me snort the most when I read it, but in this moment, it was erotic as fuck.

Problematic as hell in real life, of course, but what gay man hasn't dreamed of corrupting the straight hottie of his dreams?

Couldn't be me.

"Really?" Tristan's silky voice floated over my ears, sinking into my brain and turning the gray matter to fucking mush.

His hand smoothed over my lower back again, and this time, he grasped the waist of my underwear with intention.

"So you're going to sit there, stuck and unable to fucking move, and tell me that your cock isn't rock hard right now? After a tiny little spank and my hands on you for the first time?"

His voice was almost sinister with his words, and I couldn't stop the moan that burst out of me.

My cock throbbed, and I shook my head, knowing that nobody outside the machine would be able to see it.

"Lance..."

He chuckled, the sound even more sadistic as a thump reached my ears, and I knew that he'd sunk to his knees right behind me so that his face could be level with my trapped ass.

"Poor baby," he cooed.

"Already begging for me.

We've barely fucking begun."