One More

ONE MORE BY MOORE

CHAPTER ONE

Mark was late. The weather was perfect, the cops were busy elsewhere chasing bad guys, potential customers were on the street and my partner was nowhere to be seen. I tried his cellphone again and got the same annoying recording: Got a dick in my mouth, can't come to the phone. I'll suck your dick too, leave a message at the tone.

Damn!

"What's the matter, Steven?"

"Hey, Frank," I said to one of the solo operators on this corner near Times Square. Frank was a big, beefy guy. His muscles had muscles so he could afford to work without a backup. Big in the dick department too I knew, because we'd gotten it on a couple of times when business was slow. "Mark's late. Could you back me up tonight?"

"Sorry, no can do," he replied in a high pitched, girly voice that didn't match his macho body. "I'm getting picked up in ten minutes. Bunch of middle aged queers from out of town are having me over for cocktails and an all night fuck and suck party at the Plaza. Want to come along? They might go another two hundred bucks to party with a pretty boy like you."

The money was tempting, but I begged off claiming I should wait for Mark. The real reason was that I had to be home before two o'clock when my mother got home from her night job at the diner and too, I was avoiding gang bangs. A party limited to my cocksucker mouth was okay, but no dick had been in my ass yet and I wanted to keep it that way until I got out of high school. My mother didn't know I was gay, much less what I did to earn some badly needed money.

That's how she found out that my older brother Allan was gay. He came home one night with his ass so bruised that she had to take him to the emergency room. It nearly killed her when she heard the interns joking about the fag with the Holland Tunnel asshole in room four.

Allan was cool, we shared the single bedroom in the small apartment. Mom slept on a foldout in the living room. He taught me everything I needed to know to survive on the streets of Manhattan and most everything I needed to know about gay sex. He didn't know much about the other kind.

We fooled around in bed at night, my first wet cum was in his mouth, and I gave him hand jobs when he wanted to get off. I repeatedly offered to use my mouth instead of my two small hands...to go down on him like he did to me, but my brother wouldn't let me suck his cock.

"Don't start, Steven," he warned each time I playfully crawled between his legs and tried to lick his hairy balls or kiss his prick. "You might like the taste and the feel of a dick in your mouth and one fag cocksucker in the family is enough."

Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn't like a dick in my mouth. I knew that I liked the taste of cum. One way or another I was curious to find out.

There were some guys who'd probably let me suck their dicks if I asked, they talked about it often enough. High school guys, who hung out in the park; smoking pot and drinking beer, trash talking the girls as they passed by. A blow job wasn't sex according to President Clinton, but the girls weren't buying their offer to suck a big dick. Maybe they didn't read the newspapers.

I didn't suck the guys in the park or suck my brother. I sucked my first cock for him though, to help him out of a jam. "I owe a guy some money," Allan explained when I found him sobbing one afternoon. "A lot of money. He'll break my legs if I don't pay it back or go to a, a sort of party."

Allan wasn't making sense. "So go to the party," I said naively. Unaware at the time that Allan was doing for others what he did for me in bed.

"You don't understand, Steven, the party's at his place in the Village. Men only."

Allan had taught me well. "Homosexuals?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh." Now I understood, the party was going to be in Allan's mouth.

"And I have to bring a friend."

I insisted over his protest and he finally relented since he didn't have much choice.

I have no idea how many cocks I sucked off that night or how much yummy cum I swallowed. The room was large, there were at least twenty men that I could see when Allan and I arrived at ten o'clock.

"Gentlemen," a tall, well dressed black man called out as he ushered Allan and I into the room. "You're attention please, gentlemen."

Allan squeezed my hand reassuringly as the room fell silent and all eyes turned our way.

"Gentlemen," our host said, nudging us forward. "Our two cocksuckers have arrived and the party is about to begin."

My mouth was numb, my knees were sore and my jockey shorts were soaked with sticky cum when the party broke up around one.

"You saved my ass tonight, thanks," Allan whispered as we got ready for bed.

"I should thank you for tonight, Allan."

"Why's that?"

"Because I had a great time, see." I showed Allan my shorts.

"Is that..."

"Cum, yeah. I came in my shorts with a dick in my mouth. The black guy, you know, what's his name?"

"Oh, shit. Not Leon King?"

"Yeah, Mr. King. His dick was in my mouth, close to blowing a load, and I just popped. Then he popped. Like I was swallowing his cum and pumping it out my dick."

"That's bad, Steven, real bad."

"No, no, it was good, real good. Mr. King thought so too, he laughed when I told him what happened. It was really, really good, Allan, because I found out tonight that I'm not just a cocksucker. Don't you see? I found out tonight I'm a fag."

Allan and I became a team that summer, working our corner and backing each other up. I knew he was good and quickly found out he was great. Allan could suck off a guy and be back on the corner before I'd gotten my guy's pants open. Button flys were the worst. Levi Straus was no friend to a young fag, an inexperienced cocksucker trying to suck for a buck.

Business slowed for independent street whores as the weather got colder. Another campaign to sweep the queers off the streets before the holiday tourists arrived added to the problem. The cops wouldn't accept blow jobs in exchange for not running you in so money got tight. The guys who had pimps selling their services in the flea bag hotel rooms around Times Square made out much better. Allan and I considered it, hooking up with a pimp, but Leon King came to our rescue.

"I know you," he laughed when he came into the theme burger place where I was working. "A few months back. You're the fag that came in his shorts."

I grinned, not the least bit embarrassed by the stares from the French tour group that mobbed the place. Like they don't have fags in France? "Hello, Mr. King."

"You gave me pretty good head."

My Hispanic co-workers chuckled knowingly. I flipped every one of their sweaty, uncut cocks into my hot mouth after flipping burgers all day. Great home made cream sauce pumped into my mouth. Thick, rich and all natural ingredients. Better than the gloppy sauce we put on the burgers.

"Say, you're a good looking kid and you like to suck dick. You ever think of doing fag movies?"

I took a break, no problem since I blow my manager twice a week, and we talked about it over a cup of coffee in the huge back seat of his stretch limo. Mr. King had the coffee, I had his big cock and a big load of cream from his balls. Then I sucked off his driver and bodyguard, swallowing two more big loads of cum, and concluded the impromptu audition with a striptease and demonstration of my masturbation technique.

He was pleased with my performance and would have offered me a job except for my age. I was too young and my fake ID didn't cut it with Mr. King who would only use legal boys in front of the camera. "How about my brother?" I offered. "Allan's a fag too and gives great head. He's the best cocksucker on the street."

CHAPTER TWO

Allan auditioned for Mr. King and got the job. I got one too as a goffer and fluffer. Mine was behind the camera, mostly running errands and servicing the actors when they came off the set. "Keep those dicks hard, boy," the director instructed on my first day at work, "but don't let'em cum."

The studio was in an old warehouse by the river, four stories high and each devoted to making porno films. The straights were on the second floor, lesbians on three and homosexual, fag films were shot on four. The ground floor staff handled the shipping and receiving and also ran a very busy retail shop with a dozen screening cubicals outfitted with glory holes. The whole building smelled like day-old cum.

Surprisingly, very few of the actors in the fag films were actually fags like Allan and I...just hard up guys off the street who needed to make a buck with their bodies before moving on to less demanding work. A single film, sometimes after a single scene, and they'd be gone. One fellow from Mississippi didn't even get that far. He took one look at the actors on the set, declared, "I ain't suckin' no nigger dick," and fled.

The stars, all extremely well hung black men, did straight porn too on the second floor. As one of them explained while I was fluffing him up for a scene: "I get to fuck pretty white girls in the morning and pretty white boys in the afternoon."

Making good porno was hard work and like any film, the scenes were often shot out of sequence. The all important cum-shot scenes were done first thing in the morning when the actors were fresh and best able to spurt cum into the cocksucker's open mouth or on his face or ass. Artificial cum, that looked and felt like the real stuff, was added as necessary to fill out the cocksucker's mouth or to give the cocksucker the drippy, covered-in-cum look that Mr. King wanted in his productions. The cock sucking and ass fucking scenes came later, after the cumming, it was pretty easy to get confused.

The fake cum had one drawback, permanent yellow stains on everything it touched. A few modest guys on the crew wore old jocks on the set to save their clothing. The rest of us simply worked naked.

Maybe Mr. King was prejudiced because the black actors didn't suck dick or get fucked in any of his films. The cocksucker and pussy boy parts were reserved for white actors. Blacks always played the part of a superior top to a subservient white bottom. This was no problem for Allan because of his real life experience on the street. My talented brother didn't have to act much at all, just be himself. Comfortably submissive, Allan knew how to take direction; to grovel and to beg.

I'M ONLY A WORTHLESS WHITE FAGGOT AND YOU'RE SUCH A STUD. PLEASE LET ME SUCK YOUR BIG COCK.<

Allan's line, said from his knees to a sweaty black guy on the locker room set, wasn't just a line from a standard script. There wasn't much dialogue in most of the films, actions speak louder than words anyway. They way Allan sniffed the guy's packed jock strap before pulling it down with his teeth, then kissed the guy's loose balls and licked inside the guy's gunk-filled foreskin...Allan wasn't acting.

MAN, YOU TASTE SO GOOD. BLACK DICK IS THE BEST. CAN I SUCK IT NOW? PLEASE.<

He wanted that big, black dick in his mouth. He wanted to suck that big, black dick and the production team knew it as the hot blow job scene unfolded.

GO ON AND SUCK IT, FAGGOT. CHOKE ON MY FUCKIN' DICK.<

Allan serviced, no, he worshipped that dick from his knees as though a god rather than a black man was using his mouth to get off. I wasn't the only one to get a hard-on watching Allan go down on that cock, the director had to cue the black actor twice to deliver his next line.

SHIT WHITE BOY, YOU'RE ONE GREAT COCKSUCKER.<

The look of pride on Allan's face was unmistakable.

YEAH, I KNOW. THAT'S WHAT EVERYBODY SAYS.<

The long, slow lick up the thick, veiny shaft brought matters to a head.

BACK OFF, FAGGOT, GONNA NUT ON YOUR FACE.<

The look of panic on Allan's face was unmistakable.

IN MY MOUTH, STUD. PLEASE NUT IN MY FAGGOT, SCUMBAG MOUTH.<

Allan's mouth was filled when he opened wide for the camera. Strings of semen also dangled from his chin. This scene, shot earlier, ended the film with a nice touch. Several curly, black pubic hairs garnished the large, shiny pool of artificial cum on Allan's tongue.

The director yelled cut and told everybody to take five. Allan took ten, ten inches of cock. "Finish you off?" He asked his fellow actor who still had a hard-on.

The offer was met with some surprise. Very little sex took place when the camera wasn't running.

"You want to blow me for real?" The black actor asked. "Really suck my dick?"

"I'm a fag," Allan said, kneeling into position between the actor's legs. "I love to suck dick and eat real cum."

Allan played a pussy boy the following day, replacing at the last minute a hot looking Italian guy named Tony. "I'm not a fag," Tony told me while the set was being arranged. "I'm doin' it for the money."

Tony's hard-on and cock ring sent a different message, but I wasn't about to argue the point. Some guys don't like to admit that they're fags. He was going to really earn his money though, I'd seen the script and I'd seen the two black men who were going to fuck him. "You've been fucked before?" I asked. "The two guys who are going to fuck you in this scene are really big."

"A few times, yeah, but not for a film. My cousin Guido, back of his pizza place in Philly. How big?"

I told him and his mouth was still hanging open when he took his place on the bed. "Spread'em wide," the director instructed, then turned to me. "Get some KY and prepare his asshole."

Nobody in gay porn fucks, takes a dick up his ass without using artificial lubrication to lessen the pain of initial penetration. On film it may look as though only spit, precum or left over cum from an earlier fucking is being used, but plenty of lube preceded the hard cock into the tiny asshole. KY, odorless and tasteless was the lubrication of choice.

Tony was hairy all over but his asscrack was shaved, so much for not being a fag, and it looked as though his cousin Guido's dick had paid more than a few visits. I was about to lube his hole when he stopped me.

"What are you using?"

"KY," I answered.

"No, don't."

"No lube?"

"No KY. I'm allergic to the stuff."

"Let's go, let's go," the director shouted. "We got a fuck scene to shoot.

I explained the reason for the delay and the director, after looking at Tony's asshole, shook his head and muttered 'fucking faggot' under his breath. "Okay, pussy," he said out loud to Tony. "What do you use when guys fuck you?"

Tony sat up. "Olive oil."

The director did a double take. "What did you say?"

"Olive oil," Tony repeated. "My cousin Guido uses olive oil to lube me before he fucks me. It works great. Tastes great too mixed with cum."

The director's stony look silenced the crew's laughter. He stood over Tony and hissed, "Would that be extra virgin olive oil, faggot?"

Nothing was going to stop the laughter now.

"Lettuce and tomato and croutons shoved up your ass too? We'll make a fucking salad instead of a fuckin' fag film. Get your sick faggot ass off my set."

Allan replaced a thoroughly humiliated Tony. I gave his balls and asshole a few brotherly licks for luck, he didn't need them to firm up his cock. Then lubed him with KY jelly while he quickly scanned the script.

FUCK ME, PLEASE FUCK ME.<

Allan's line as the first actor withdrew from his mouth and mounted him.

OH, YEAH, FUCK ME, MAN. I NEED A DICK IN ME REAL BAD.<

PUT IT IN FOR ME, FAGGOT.<

I'd lubed him well and Allan was no virgin, but a beer can sized cock stretching your sphincter has got to hurt. The second actor dropped his balls into Allan's mouth so all that came out was a long ahhhhhhhhhhh as he guided the huge dick into his ass.

HOW'S THAT FAG'S PUSSY?<

HOT AND TIGHT, MAN. LIKE IT WAS MADE FOR A COCK. YOU WANNA HAVE A GO AT FUCKIN' THE WHITE BITCH?<

I'LL FUCK THE FAG'S PUSSY MOUTH FOR A WHILE. SWITCH WITH YOU LATER.<

Allan's head hanging off the end of the bed was at just the right angle and height for a deep throat face fuck. He struggled a bit as the incredibly thick shaft pushed between his lips, the last inch was a challenge. He got it all though and between the dick in his ass and the dick in his mouth Allan had over twenty inches of hard dick in him.

I got to see the first switch off, Allan scrambling from his back to his hands and knees.

BLACK DICK IN MY COCKSUCKER MOUTH, BLACK DICK IN MY PUSSY ASS. I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT. HURRY, PLEASE HURRY.<

And the reinsertions. Allan's cock, dripping precum, was as hard as I'd ever seen it. Then I got sent to the third floor to borrow a 12" dildo.

When you spend the day naked around other naked guys it's easy to forget that you don't have any clothes on. Easy also to forget that you have an erection. The lesbians on three had a good laugh at my expense.

"We don't suck dicks here, honey," a big breasted, leather clad lady said, poking at my hard-on with a whip. "Just pussy. The dick loving cocksuckers are one flight up."

I turned red and tried to cover up as best I could. "Yes ma'am, I know. I work upstairs. I came down to borrow your 12" dildo."

"You're a fag?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"How nice. I'm Bertha. We're using it at the moment. Come with me."

I didn't feel like walking naked through all the giggling lesbians. "Could I wait here?"

Before I knew what was happening, Bertha slapped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists and tied a leather leash, cock ring style, around my dick. "Come with me."

I followed her like a lamb, pulled along by my dick. "Faggot on the set," she bellowed above the peals of laughter. "Faggot on the set."

Here too, like on my floor, blacks were the stars of the show. White girls ate black pussy and sucked on black tits, lesbians having sex without a stiff dick and swinging balls was boring. It made me glad to be a fag cocksucker. The dildo I came for was in a white girls cunt. She was fucking herself while a black girl sat on her face. Her pussy was dripping and all I could think about was sucking a cock.

"She'll be done in a minute, honey," Bertha said as the girl cried out and pinched her nipples. The latex dick, propelled I guessed by the force of her climax, shot across the bed. "Suck it, Bertha demanded, bringing the fake dick to my lips. "Lick it clean. Pussy juice'll make a nice change from the nasty scum you fags suck from each other."

I turned my head, repulsed by the smell. "No thank you, ma'am."

"Suck it clean of pussy juice, cocksucker, or I'll shove every inch of it up your faggot ass."

The dildo was spotless when I brought it back to the fourth floor. "You've been gone a while," Mr. King said when he saw me. "Bertha's not too fond of fags, she give you a rough time? Make you wear those panties?"

I'd forgotten the panties, grabbed from a pile as I fled the third floor and raced down the stairs to find a cock to suck. "Not too bad, sir."

I couldn't go into the retail shop naked and the lace, bikini panties were all I could find to wear. I found an empty cubical, opened the glory hole and pleaded with the guy on the other side to let me suck his cock. I needed a meaty cock and a good helping of thick cum to get the awful fishy taste of cunt juice out of my mouth.

"A blow job sounds damn good but I ain't got no rubber," my health conscious savior advised in a mid-western accent.

"Put your cock through, anyway. Please. I'll suck it bare."

"What about the cum? I ain't sick or nothin' but it ain't safe takin' cum from a stranger."

"In my mouth, mister. I trust you. Please cum in my mouth."

"You must be one a them crazy New York faggots. The cocksuckers back home don't eat cum no more."

An uncut seven incher finally came through the hole. No dick ever looked or felt or tasted so good. In my haste to get a cock in my mouth I'd left the cubical door wide open. I heard them talking, three guys in NYU T-shirts, and gave them a live demonstration of an eager, cum eating cocksucker at work.

The college boys were impressed with my oral skills and horny. I returned to work on the fourth floor with not one, but four well-sucked cocks behind me and four loads of cum in my belly.

I'd missed the conclusion of Allan's pussy boy scene. Everybody on the set said he did great and Mr. King summed it up by saying: "What the porn industry needs is more faggots like your brother."

Those were happy days for Allan and I, but, much like a blow job from a faggot cocksucker, all good things end too quickly. Mr. King got an offer he couldn't refuse so he sold the old building to a real estate developer and moved the company to LA. Allan decided to accept Mr. King's offer and make the move too.

I went back to hustling on the street and back to school, eager to join my fag brother Allan in LA when I turned eighteen. Like Mr. King said: 'What the porn industry needs is more faggots.'

When the great day finally arrived I kissed my mother goodbye and hitched my way across the country. Truck drivers, I discovered, appreciate a blow job to help pass the time. I didn't call Allan to let him know I was coming because I wanted to surprise him. I didn't call Mr. King either because I was confident that he could use one more faggot.