The Applicant
By Ocean Lover
I walked through the open doorway and wanted to turn around and leave. The room was dingier than my jeans and I hadn't been able to wash them in weeks. I saw several overstuffed couches with their stuffing falling out. I saw a very thin man sitting at a desk at the end of the room. The hair was dyed. He stood up and moved to a filing cabinet.
He must have seen me staring because he called out, "What are we here for, love?"
I could feel his eyes raking along my body, stopping at my crotch, and begging for admittance.
"I heard you're casting a picture," I said, my voice not as strong as I would have liked.
"Who'd you hear a vicious rumor like that from," he said. Then he smiled.
"Two boys I met."
"Boys, indeed," he said. He held the first two fingers of his right hand up to his lips. He would be smoking if he had a cigarette anywhere near his mouth.
He must have seen the puzzled look on my face. "It's a dive in here, but they still don't let me smoke." He looked down at a book on his desk. "I know you don't have an appointment, so you'd better come over here and sit down. Time to do the preliminary screening." I could see his tongue poke out and moisten his bottom lip.
I sort of stumbled into the room. I was nervous as all hell, but the hunger in my gut pushed me into the office. I sat down in the chair in front of the man's desk.
The man pointed his two cigarette fingers at me and smiled. "So, what's our name," he said.
"Justin," I said.
"And do we have a last name," he said.
I thought for a moment before answering. "Fox," I said.
The man gave a shrill laugh. "Justin Fox, pleased to meet you. Now, do we have a real name?"
"It is my real name."
"Right," he said.
"And how old are we, my dear Justin Fox?"
"Nineteen."
"Right. And do we have I.D.," he asked.
"How about seventeen," I said.
"Keep going," the man said.
"Fifteen, and I do have I.D.," I said. I stood up and shuffled through my left pocket. The right one had gotten ripped last week and I'd lost a couple bucks. I needed to get some sturdier jeans.
I handed him the I.D. He looked at it and then back at me.
"Well, this is interesting, Tom," he said, looking at the laminated item in his hand. "It says you're from Idaho. It says you're thirty-nine. It shows you have a mustache. Can you even grow facial hair, yet?"
"You asked for I.D. You didn't ask for my I.D."
"True enough. Okay, Justin Fox, age 19." He wrote on the form he pulled out of a drawer.
"Can I have the I.D. back," I asked. He handed it to me.
"Do you know what we do here?"
"Make movies." I smiled. I tried to use my cute smile.
"God I'd love to be your fluffer," he said. He stuck his two fingers in his mouth for a moment. I shuddered.
"I used to be a star, you know. I've got a hot ass that swallows men whole. Then I was the fluffer on-set for like two hundred movies. Now I take names and ogle the cute little things." He made a clicking noise with his tongue and turned his head back to the form.
I must have looked like all the blood had run from my body. "Stop looking like that. Pep up, little pup." He looked at his form again. "Let's talk about experience. Gay or straight?"
"Gay."
"Fifteen and already sure," he said. "What fun I'd have if I were that age again." He plucked at the graying hairs on top of his head. "I'm thirty-five and prematurely graying. It's a bitch."
"Top or bottom," he asked.
"Top," I said. He raised an eyebrow at me.
"I'll write down, `inexperienced,'" he said. I thought to grumble, but didn't want to press the issue.
"How many inches are we packing, soft and hard," he asked.
I squeaked. "Four and seven," I said.
He looked at me and looked hard at my crotch. "I'll write down three and five," he said. "Unless you care to prove me wrong right now."
"Experience with blow jobs," he asked.
I nodded. "I can blow myself, too."
He smiled. "Just what we happen to be casting this week. Are you putting me on?"
"My dad caught me three weeks ago and that's why I don't live in Idaho anymore."
He wrote a note and looked at me with a neutral stare.
"Well, we'll see if Tony likes you. You're too scrawny to start off except in a solo bit. We'll bulk you up, throw some muscle on, and make you into a beauty."
He finished writing on his card. "I don't suppose you have an address, do you?"
I shook my head.
"Stand up," he said. He came around the desk and starting patting me down. He left his land on my crotch and rubbed for a few seconds. I let him.
"Maybe I will have to write down four and seven," he said. "If Tony doesn't have anything for you, I'll take you home myself."
I wasn't very sure if I liked that news.
He walked me to a door that I hadn't noticed before. It was tucked behind the filing cabinets. The man knocked and a bellow came in reply. "Yeah?"
"I got something you should look at," the man said.
"Come on in," the reply came.
The man opened the door and we stepped in. The room was a little less saturated in dirt.
"Where'd you find this lovely," the new man said. He was younger. "I'm Tony," he said. "Or did Butch tell you that, yet?"
"Justin," Butch said. "Justin Fox."
"What's his real name," Tony said.
"It is my real name," I said.
"Born for porn, huh," Tony said. He looked me over very carefully. "Let me see his card," he said to Butch.
The name Butch just made we want to laugh, but not until after I got a job.
"Nineteen, right." He looked at me again, concentrating on my crotch. "Four and six on a tiny guy like him will look great. We can shave him, I guess."
"Bye, Butch," he said.
Butch turned around and started to leave. "I think he might like you," he said, smiled and left the room.
"Sit, Justin," Tony said. He continued reading the card.
"Idaho and a selfsucker. I think I do like Justin Fox. It's a great name. We had a Johnny Rox on the list a few years back. Wouldn't that have been hysterical? Johnny Rox and Justin Fox in a Tony Lambert production."
"Hey, kid," he said, looking at me. "You can start breathing again. I'm a lot of talk and not nearly as terrifying as they make me out to be."
I loosened my grip on the chair I was in before it fell apart.
"No address, huh? We'll have to get you something lined up." He looked at the still opened door. "Butch, hey Butch. You got Tommy Long's phone number?"
Butch popped back into the room. "Yeah, why?"
"Give him a call. See if he's got a spare room, spare bed, or whatever. I think this kid needs a place to crash."
"Aww, he's so cute, I wanted to take him home," Butch said.
"He's doesn't need to be plundering your gaping hole this week," Tony said. "Make the call."
"Bitch," Butch said as he was leaving.
"Selfsucker but otherwise inexperienced. Is that true?"
"I had a boyfriend. But, yeah, it's pretty true."
"Well, strip, kid. Gotta see the goods. Gotta see what I'm going to get."
"Here," I said.
"You want the dressing room? It ain't so clean cause Butch doesn't do toilets, you know what I'm saying."
"How much does this pay," I said, the words coming from nowhere. I wanted money so badly I think part of me wouldn't have cared how much.
"I like you," he said. "Well, I'll get you hooked up with Tommy. He's a looker still and he fucks so well it should be a crime. He'll give you a place to stay and lots of entertainment. I'll give you three hundred bucks for the solo session, maybe another five hundred if I can film you blowing yourself. A lot more if you happen to have other talents."
I stood up and started undressing. My body was still pretty thin. I had swum in Boise for the school team, but hadn't done anything to keep my muscle tone up for weeks. I had a great ass, though. And I wasn't lying to Butch when I told him how I was equipped up front.
My shirt hit the floor. It was so dirty that I didn't think the matted down, brownish-green carpet could do it any damage. My shoes came off next, then the socks. My jeans were down and that was all I had.
"Wow," Tony said. "This is a pleasant surprise. Four and six. Already it's more like six and, what, eight?" He licked his lips.
"Get to sucking," he said.
I knew I'd have to do this at some point. I stepped out of my jeans on the floor and started walking to him. "Me," he laughed. "Not today. Get on the couch and give yourself a blow," he said.
I turned and saw the couch behind me. I went and lay down and swung my legs up. I gave my little friend a couple of shakes and he began to grow. I got everything lined up and brought my man into my mouth and began to lick and bob.
"Definitely eight," I heard from Tony.
I kept my hand moving and was getting a good inch or two into my mouth.
"Keep going," Tony yelled when I slowed down. "All the way to the end," he said. "Butch, get your nellie ass in here."
My back was beginning to object to being crunched up for so long. I started whacking harder.
"Wow, that's a really pretty sight," I heard Butch say.
"Do you think it's tight," I heard Tony say.
"Want me to find out," Butch asked.
I felt a finger begin to probe around my asshole. That was enough to send my little soldiers up the tube and out to war.
The first shot was in my mouth. I heard Tony yell, "On your face."
The last two or three shots hit my face. I could feel Butch's finger pounding for entrance. I uncurled my legs and his finger popped out.
"Welcome to the family, kid," Tony said, smiling a great happy smile. Butch was licking his finger.