Durango

Here is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After you've read it, please email me; tell me if I should continue the theme.

I first met Demetri on location in a remote section of the Colorado mountains near Durango. Our trailors were nestled on a wide ridge on the side of a breathtaking peak surrounded by other mountains, mostly snow-capped. For a month our work time was short. We would spend about 4 hours a day shooting on the other side of the mountain from our trailors, while the rest of the day was devoted to the stunt men. Demetri had a small role in the film, as one of the clients of an alpine resort. We shared a few scenes, even shaking hands and introducing our characters to each other on a hiking jaunt, but we didn't speak to each other off-camera at first. Indeed, we were never introduced.

After a few days of shooting, I began to notice that Demetri was showing up for scenes in which he did not appear. At first I assumed he was carrying on a second job, as a grip or somebody's gopher; but I soon realized that he spent most of his time sitting or crouching near the camera and watching the shoot. Actors were welcome to watch the process of course, but most spent their free time enjoying the mountains. Demetri was beside the camera every time I was on camera, and I began to get the nagging feeling that he was not there to watch the action, but to watch me. That's when I began to pay more attention to him.

I got his name, Demetrios, from an assistant camera man one morning, but I waited to approach him, until I could have a good look at him. Observing him candidly, however, turned out to be difficult as he always seemed to be observing me. From a series of glances throughout the morning, I surmised that he was probably as Greek as his name. His very clear skin had an olive complexion and his hair was jet black, cut fashionably. He had a beautiful face both in attitude and shape, with high cheek bones offsetting the gentle dimples of his smile. He seemed almost constantly to be either grinning or looking at the world with that open quality which I call wonder. His eyes were dark but open and honest. His lips were full, but not girlish. His chin was firm, but not so hard in shape as to escape the overall boyishness of his appearance. He wore a white cashmere sweater with a wide collar to reveal more of that lovely olive skin surrounding his neck. Jeans and hiking boots completed the ensemble.

I found myself irresistibly attracted to this young man, and made of point of saying, 'Hi', the next time I passed him. He returned, 'Hi', with a smile, but we could go no further as I was being called over by the director. As I approached the mountain stream chosen for this particular shot, I realized nervously that it was time for the scene in which I was to undress.

The film was set in the nineteenth century, and the costuming of that era was for the most part, modest. However, in this scene, my character, alone in the wilderness, was called upon to bathe naked in a stream. I have never approved of full frontal nudity in film, at least for myself; but the director had promised me that all the filming would be from the rear or cropped from the waist up. I had all assurances that filmgoers would not be treated to a view of my fully nude body. Nevertheless, the director, the working film crew, and Demetrios, most certainly would.

And soon. Though the undressing was itself the action of scene, the director asked to me to quickly strip prior to the shoot so that he could assess camera angles with my body set against the mountainous panorama. The shot was to be a pan beginning some distance away from me, then zooming in and around the rear of my body to show the circle of mountains that my character was taking in. We walked together down to the stream and I took off the costume while the director told me the action he wanted and the position that I should take in the stream. I placed the clothes beside me, but the director picked them up and carried them away. I realized that the camera would remain about 50 yards away and that I would be standing alone in the stream with the crew behind me. As I turned to watch the director return to his chair, I saw Demetrios. His eyes had never left me. For the first time I felt the slight thrill of embarrassment.

I wasn't ashamed of my body. I was as fit as ever, and the muscles in my legs and arms were still taut from an early morning hike. But there was a powerlessness in having my nakedness observed, perhaps even scrutinized, by this beautiful boy. I say 'boy', though I was sure he was only a few years younger than myself. On some men, boyishness only grows with age. As I reflected on this, I found myself hoping that my body pleased him.

The director called out, and I turned my back to the crew and stepped calf-deep into the stream for the camera assessment. The chill mountain breeze sent shivers to my spine and goose bumps to my skin. I felt the sharp temperature difference where the water line fell on my calves. I felt the tingle in my groin which one senses in moments of exposure and which is not unlike the feeling that comes on the downward slope of a fast roller coaster. After a moment or two the director called me back, and I started walking the fifty yards back to the rest of crew. Seeing that I was chilled, the director's assistant yelled for someone to run a towel to me. Demetrios, motionless before, stood quickly, took the towel from the assistant and ran to me. I said 'Thanks' as he arrived, but instead of handing the towel to me, he stooped and knelt at my feet. For one astonished moment, I saw that his face was level with my testicles, hanging low despite the chill air. In that heartbeat, I honestly believed that he was leaning in to sniff or to taste them; but a heartbeat later I realized that, of course, he was only drying my legs and feet for me. I prayed quietly that he would be quick about it. I could feel my private parts beginning to grow firm. He did finish quickly, and then wrapped the towel around my waist, just before my penis became hard and upright. I didn't think he saw, though his hand brushed the tip of the organ slightly as he folded a corner of the towel inside to secure it to my waist. 'Thanks' I said again, and he returned, 'You're welcome' shyly as we continued the walk back to the crew.

The crew was busy preparing for the scene and had apparently taken no notice of the half-beat of sensuality which for me had seemed endless. Fortunately for me, the shoot began beside a canvas tent a few yards further left and I was able to put my costume back on without embarrasment inside the tent. Even so, it was Demetrios who handed my costume in as I ducked inside the tent and Demetrios who was waiting to help me with my bootlaces when I came out. In spite of his proximity, I managed to lose the hardness in my groin during the ensuing activity. The costume crew seemed to accept Demetrios as my temporary dresser and paid little attention to us, as he finished my shirt buttons and the bow of my tie.

The actual shoot went without incident as I undressed beside the tent and walked back to my previous position in the stream. This time I was to end the scene by ducking under the water entirely where the stream was a little deeper, two yards further. The water was icy, and I could not have stood the temperature long; but the scene required only one take, and as I stepped out of the stream, clearly shaking with cold, Demetrios met me at the bank with two fresh towels. One he handed to me and with the other he quickly began rubbing down my back side while I dried the front. Once I nearly slipped on the rocks in my barefeet, but Demetrios caught me with one hand on my stomach and the other hand placed firmly on my buttock. His hands were smooth and strong. I experienced the fleeting sensation of his hands massaging the cheek of my buttock and the ripples of my stomach just above the groin. Had I not been chilled to the bone, I might have suffered another erection on the spot. We walked back to the tent and I again ducked inside to dress, but this time Demetrios followed me bringing my costume.

He silently served as my dresser, holding out first my underwear as I stepped into each leg then my pants, shirt and so on. He worked without comment, the consummate professional and yet his touch was intimate and knowing. He often placed his hand against a part of my body to steady himself as he helped me to dress. His hand was on my face as he brushed my hair, his hand was on my chest as he straightened the back of my collar, and as he fixed the bow in my tie he stood behind with his chin on my shoulder, his torso hugging mine like a glove on the hand. I thought for a moment that I felt a hardness from his groin against my buttock.

When my costume was complete, he started out of the tent ahead of me. I placed my hand on the back of his neck, partly to stop him, and partly to feel his skin as he had felt mine. He stopped, but did not turn to me. Again, I said, 'Thanks'.

'You're welcome', he said, and stepped outside.

The rest of the morning was uneventful. We finished shooting before lunch, but as we headed back to the transport bus, one of the location jeeps rolled in, and Carlos, a supporting actor, jumped out and made a beeline for John, the director. I walked in their direction to find out what was going on. Demetrios was right behind me.

"I'm not sharing my trailor!" he was shouting to John. Carlos was a bit of a hot-head, and he tended to explode whenever he failed to receive anything but star treatment.

"I'll do what I can, Carlos," John said, "but I can't promise anything. We've got a new batch of extras here tonight for the resort scenes this afternoon and tomorrow. In a day or two you can have your trailor back to yourself."

"That's not good enough."

"I don't mind sharing with you," offered Demetrios. He had obviously been pegged as Carlos' new roommate.

"Well, I'm afraid I do mind sharing with you!" Carlos returned with a sneer. He turned back to John. "Does Steve share a trailor", he accused, pointing to me. "Would your starring boy mind sharing a trailor!"

John began to protest, but I interrupted. "No, I wouldn't mind."

Carlos looked at me. "Keep your trailor, Carlos." I turned to Demetrios, "You mind rooming with me?"

"No, sir." Demetrios smiled back at me with those terrific dimples.

I turned back to Carlos. "OK?"

"Sure. Thanks, Steve." Carlos looked down for moment. "Look, I'm sorry for raising hell, I just . . . "

But Demetrios, John and I were already walking toward the bus, leaving Carlos to muddle in his apology. "Thank you, Steve," John said as we climbed aboard. "It's nice to know at least my star has a little give and take."

After lunch, I helped Demetrios move his bags to my trailor. He traveled very light, and we managed the whole move in one trip by foot. Inside, I asked if he'd like a glass of tea or something before the next shoot.

"Sure," he said, "tea would be great! Listen, I really appreciate you sharing your rooms with me."

"No problem," I answered, pouring two glasses of tea with ice and sitting beside him on the small couch in the trailor's living area. There was no place else to sit. "I appreciate you grabbing the towels for me this morning. That water was freezing."

"I know. I couldn't believe it when you ducked all the way under. I knew I'd have wanted a towel on the way out. Do you mind if I try out your CD player?" I nodded my head and he dropped in one of his own, a contemporary rock album with great vocals. We settled on our drinks quietly for a moment, but I sensed his need to say something. Before he could get started the phone rang. I picked it up, talked to John for a moment and hung up.

"Shoot's cancelled this afternoon," I told Demetrios. "They've got to rework a set piece. Have you a got any work calls coming up."

"No I'm free, too"

"I guess we can take it easy, then Demetrios."

"Yeah. Call me Demetri," Demetri lay his arm on the back of the couch, his hand was behind my head, inadvertently brushing my hair. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I think you're a terrific actor."

"Thank you."

"And you've got an incredible body. I mean, for film."

"Thank you. What's the question."

"Do you think I've got the looks for film. Be honest." He actually looked as if he didn't know.

I was honest. "Are you kidding me? You're gorgeous! You look fantastic for film."

"Really? You think so?"

I was incredulous. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You've got beautiful cheekbones, a great smile." He shot me one of those great smiles.

"I'm glad you like my face. But I don't know if I look right for film all over."

"What do you mean?"

He paused for a moment and looked embarrassed. "I have the advantage of you. I've seen more than just your face."

He laughed for a moment nervously and I laughed too. "I see what you mean," I said. "But it looks like you've got a pretty good figure under that sweater. Take your shirt off, if you want, it's your trailor, too."

He smiled, said "OK" and pulled his sweater off in one fluid motion. As I had imagined, that beautiful skin tone was in evidence over his entire torso without a blemish in sight. His body held not an ounce of fat and boyish muscles rippled over the skin. I noticed without staring that his nipples were taut and that he had goose bumps.

"You look great to me. As long as your bum's clean, you're a greek statue."

"I want you to see it," he said, "and tell me if I could get away with a scene like the one you shot this morning." He stood up, and facing away from me, unzipped his jeans and pulled them down around his ankles.

"Look," I said, "you don't have to . . ."

He paused and turned his head to look at me, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said, "Is this stupid? I can be really vain sometimes."

I laughed to put him at ease. "No, it's fine. We're all vain, you know." His pants were still around his feet so I added, laughing, "You gone this far. Let's see that ass of yours."

He smiled and dropped his white underwear, saying "Ta da!" with his back side to me. As I suspected, I was greeted by two ripe melons of the same incredible skin tone.

I laughed and clapped my hands. "Bravo, bravo." He was laughing with me, his face turned away. "Encore, encore!" I added, getting into the fun.

He turned his head to look at me directly. "Encore?"

"You bet!" I said.

He smiled shyly and said, "There's really only one encore for this show." He turned slowly around to face me, revealing a long, thick erection protruding from the soft, black fur of his groin.

I couldn't hide my surprise, and said nothing for a moment. I was taken aback and had no idea what was registering on my face. When I looked back to his face, he was crying, softly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought it was OK, I thought you wanted . . ."

I stood up and held him quickly. "Hey it's ok, it's ok. I don't mind. Really."

"Are you sure," he said looking at me with tears in eyes.

Instead of answering I went for those irresistible lips. In a moment, our tongues were sliding back and forth tentatively from mouth to mouth, exploring. His tears brushed my face as we kissed deeply.

After a moment, our lips parted and I cupped his chin in my hand, looking into his eyes. "Listen ," I said. "You wanted me to see you this way. Now let me explore you, inch by inch."

He started to speak but I put my finger to his soft, blushing lips and traced them gently. I ran my fingers through his hair and to the back of his neck and massaged there firmly, bracing his head with another kiss. As my hands slid down around his broad shoulders, he slipped his own hands under my shirt and began working his way up, groping for every ripple on my stomach, every hint of a rib, until he reached my own nipples, also taut now in expectation. With one motion he lifted my shirt over my head and down around my shoulders until it lay on the floor. By this time, I was grasping the cheeks of his ass, massaging vigorously. He moaned softly as my fingers moved close to the open hole.

"Wait," he said urgently, "I want to please you first." He took the zipper of my pants quickly and made short work of moving my pants and underwear around my ankles. He grabbed my butt and unapologetically groped until his fingers were inside my ass hole. By this time his mouth had found my erection; and he was embracing me from both sides. In ecstacy, I nearly lost my balance and grabbed his shoulders as he moved his mouth back and forth over my penis in perfect rhythm. I looked down at him, running my fingers through his soft black hair. The pleasure swelling inside my groin was almost unbearable. The grip of his lips and throat on my dick was so strong, it felt as though he could swallow the organ whole. I wanted to last longer, but barely a minute had passed before I exploded into his throat. Demetri swallowed every drop and continued to allow my thrust as I expended the remaining cum in smaller doses.

Then, exhausted, I almost collapsed, leaning over his shoulder. In one motion Demetrios lifted my body in a fireman's carry and hoisted me to the bed in the next room. As he lay down beside me, I grabbed him around the chest and slowly began massaging his pecs, while I recovered. As he relaxed in my embrace, I moved my massage from his chest to his ripped abdomen, and from there to the edge of the soft hair above his penis. I let my left hand wander to the center of his crotch, my little finger sliding into his ass, my thumb and forefinger caressing his testicles delicately but firmly. I rose slightly, and, pressing my right hand to his abs, I lowered my lips to his erection and began to massage the head with my mouth. He trembled noticeably as I ran my tongue over every rise and crevice of his penis. I took the entire organ in my mouth and found that I could let it slide all the way in without gagging, my lips pressed to the base. He began to thrust gently, raising his pelvis from the bed as I lowered my mouth around him. Unbelievably, his penis seemed to grow more in my mouth; I could actually feel the bulge of his veins against my tongue and palate.

Our rhythm quickened and I prepared to drink deeply, but just as I thought he would explode, he yanked his groin suddenly away from my mouth, and shifted his body to kiss me forcefully.

I baulked. "Wait. I want you, Demetri. You didn't . . . " I started.

He clasped my face in his warm hands. "I know," he said, "I'm sorry, but I want . . . can I have . . ." He was torn, afraid to ask.

"What!?" I begged. "Say it!"

"Can I have you in the ass? Can I put my dick in your ass?"

I paused for only a split second, then grabbed at the cabinet beside my bed where I kept, a tube of lubricant. I tossed the tube on the bed and looked deeper into the cabinet, frantically waving my hand through the contents. "Damn!"

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't have any . . . damn!" No condoms. I finished the search by slamming the cabinet door, and turning back to face Demetri. Those beautiful eyes were staring back at me, pleading with me. I could have drowned in those eyes.

"Nevermind." I said quickly and flashed him the most encouraging smile I could muster. "Come here."

I opened the tube of lubricant, grabbed his dick and began to grease him, sliding both hands up and down. He quickly became firm again and groaned. He became more vocal as I teased his dick with my fingers, moaning almost continuously. "Now," I said, when I guessed he was close to his peak. "How do you want me?" I looked him in the eyes, again.

"But, what about?" he started.

"I don't care!" I said, and I meant it. Words and concepts had briefly thrown themselves at me: fear, disease, promiscuity, aids. But at this moment, they meant nothing to me. All that had meaning for me was now, this moment. From the look in his eye, I could tell that Demetri had come to the same conclusion.

Almost too roughly he shoved me down onto the bed, in the position he preferred. I followed willingly. I was fully on the low bed from the waist up, facing the bedspread, but my hips hung over the side, and my knees were on the floor. Grabbing my hands behind my back, he straddled me. Slowly, but with increasing force he slid his dick deeply into me. I groaned with pain and pleasure. He began to ride me slowly, moving up and down as he held my hands like the reins of a horse. Each thrust felt deeper. During the slight pause before each rise, I felt his soft balls brushing against my backside. I had never felt such sweet agony, and when I thought I could bear no more, Demetri exploded inside me as we both moaned. Warmth surged inside me.

He continued to ride me gently, expending himself; then withdrew and collapsed beside me, face up on the bed. But I wasn't finished.

I whipped around and lifted his legs to my shoulders, bringing my 2nd erection close to his ass. He tossed me the tube of lubricant and as I prepared my groin for insertion, he never stopped looking at me with those deep dark eyes. As I prepared to enter him, he smiled and whispered, "yes, yes!"

He was tight as I began to push in, and when I saw a pained look on his face, I was afraid of hurting him. But he cried out through gritted teeth, "No! Do it! Please!"

I paused, halfway inside. "I don't want to hurt you." I said.

He was crying at this point. "Fuck me! Please! I'm begging you!"

I needed no more encouragement. I thrust in to the base of my cock, this time feeling my own balls falling against his skin. He was still crying, but laughing and moaning too, all in one cry of ecstacy. I began pumping hard, as he continued calling out, "Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder!" I lost all sense of fear for him soon as the intense pleasure built up inside. After exploding inside of him, I lost all control. My body shuddered and I weakened, leaning over Demetrios. Demetrios leaned up quickly, pulling his legs carefully off my shoulders and pulling me to his chest in a shower of kisses. My dick was still inside him. We lay there quietly, dissolving in each other's embrace, drifting to sleep together.

I woke up every hour or so, and the pleasure of finding this beautiful body caressing mine continually sent me back to my dreams filled with passion and comfort.

When daybreak finally came, I awoke cold and uncomfortable for the first time in hours. I turned to Demetri, but he was gone . . .

. . . to be continued . . .