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Leaving Dubai
The waiting area at Dubai International Airport is nicer than most. Not as nice as Singapore International, but still, better than those in so many cities around the globe. It certainly made conversations with short term friends comfortable until those friends left for uncomfortable hours of air travel.
Paul, a little know writer from Los Angeles, and Keith, an international film star sat at the bar, drinking cosmopolitans and chatting just as all airport friends do. Paul celebrated the completion of his new book which was now on its way to the publisher, and Keith was about to head to Los Angeles after location filming in Dubai.
Of course, once Keith discovered Paul's profession, he asked about Paul's books.
"Mainly, I write short stories aimed at a very specific audience of men, but recently, I've been trying my hand at writing novels," the author replied.
Keith smiled impishly. "Audiences of men are more interested in reading about sex than anything else. Would I be too far off-base if I guessed you write erotica."
"I think you got the idea quite well, I should write you into a detective novel, or a short story, at least."
Keith turned toward Paul as he ordered another cocktail.
"Do you think I would have seen any of the films you've been in?" Paul asked.
"Well, in movies I use my professional name, P. Rick Cummer; but I doubt that you have seen any of my work," Keith answered.
By the time Keith was in the middle of his reply, Paul recognized him from his movies. His eyes stared enviously at Keith's famous cock, thirteen inches of thick sausage eager to fuck anyone with a need to cum.
Keith realized that Paul's eyes were glued on the thing than made him famous and kept him working. He smirked. "It looks like you've found something interesting in my pants. Have you ever seen it in action?"
"Zillions of times, and I've stroked my little sausage to every film of your I've seen."
"I only do gay movies. Are you...?'
"I'm proud to say I am, but my work keeps me from meeting other gays, so I just jerk of a couple of times a day to gay porn."
The cosmopolitans arrived just as the loud speaker announced pre-boarding of their Emirates flight to LA, 15 hours of non-stop torture.
The two men were nonplused by the boarding calls until final boarding was announced. They were almost the last to board, still chatting, but being discreet about the topic. Keith arrived at his business class seat and moved out of the way so Paul could continue down the aisle to his.
It's always tough to have conversations when sitting in business or first class, but, in addition to its famous passenger pajamas, Emirates offers a lounge for first and business class passengers. Once they were airborne. Paul and Keither headed there and found seats at one of the long seating area areas. They waited while other passengers waited for their cocktails before approaching the bar to order cosmopolitans for themselves.
When other has returned to their seats, Keith and Paul talked more openly about Keith's work.
"With as much unprotected sex as you are having with strangers, Don't you worry about AIDS or other diseases?"
"Everyone asks me about that. I use PrEP to protect against AIDS, so I am safe there, but there aren't any protections against other kinds of sex. The better studios will have medical professionals on every set to test for other stuff. If an actor has something, he is treated but banned from performing until all symptoms are gone. The state oversees the testing and the treatment, so an actor cannot infect others by trying to cheat somehow.
"Even if all of this was not financed by state and local health officials, studios know it is in their own best interests and reputations not to use actors with VD. I am probably just as safe working as most people are abstaining."
"Interesting. Very wise," Paul said. "I bet you have all the sex you can ever have when you are working."
Keith replied, "Too much sometimes, not many guys can deal with my 13 incher and lots of them are actually straight, just doing gay porn to get a little income. None of those guys are willing to attempt anything with 13 inches."
"Straight guys do porn? How do they get it up?"
Tri-mix and quad-mix would give a corpse a hard-on. These guys don't like injecting the stuff into their pricks, but if they are hungry enough to do gay sex for money, they buck-up and do the injections."
The two new acquaintances returned to their seats for some sleep. A couple of hours later, they awoke to meals being served before turning over and going back to sleep.
They met again in the lounge just long enough to exchange contact information before taking off their Emirates pajamas and returning to their seats for another meal.
After clearing immigration a few hours later, the two again bumped into each other at LAX. Both were headed for the Men's room where Keith treated Paul to a long look at his erect monster-dick. They looked around until the coast was clear, before heading into one of the stalls.
Paul was delighted to have more of a mere look at Keith's sausage. Keith didn't waste any time. He wanted to plunge deeply into Paul's ass, but not before kissing deeply. Mid-kiss, lots of guys flooded into the bathroom due to the flight that had just arrived, so Paul and Keith had to leave to go to baggage claim.
Keith had a studio car waiting and invited Paul to join him. Both men were hungry, but during the short drive to Paul's apartment, all they had time for was a little necking.
Paul's small apartment at Venice Beach was about twelve miles from Keith's palatial estate and the two were tired despite sleeping on the plane. Keith directed his chauffeur to take Paul home first, before going to his own home in the Hollywood Hills.
The next day, Keith called to ask Paul if he wanted to sit in on a porno shoot.
"That sounds so hot, I'm getting hard already. You bet your booty I want to sit in," Paul replied, excitedly. "When?"
"Look outside your window. My car is already there."
Paul didn't bother to look before hightailing it to the limo and speeding off to the studio.
Arriving at the set, just as Paul got out of the car, a gruff voice called out in his direction. "Hey! If you're the fluffer, you're late. Get you late ass over here and start sucking."
Another fluffer had already arrived but has failed the medical exams. Paul hastened to take them, found he was clean, and went onto the set and got on his knees. He was soon surrounded by limp cocks that needed his mouth to get them going. I can't believe I'm going to get paid to suck cock all day. This can't be happening, as least, not to me the guy with a microscopic dick.
Paul notices a few wedding rings in the bunch, but hoped they would not shy away from Keith's huge dong. On the other hand, that would mean I would have to come back tomorrow and do the same sucking all over again. Maybe I should be hoping all these guys are straight so I can suck their dicks again tomorrow.
Paul's fantasies were interrupted when an arrogant 18-year-old kid pushed his meat towards Paul's mouth. "Suck it you filthy bitch. Do a good job, too. You're lucky you get to even look at a dick like I'm feeding you. Get to it, slut, but if you make me cum, swear to god, I'll kill you."
A thousand replies invaded Paul's head, but he kept quiet. A cock is just a cock, and all I want is lots of cocks.
The fantasy job of all times was right in front of Paul's face.
Two more chapters to follow. Please send your feedback to arousedofcocks@gmail.com