The usual disclaimers apply. This is a work of fiction, and those folks who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by moral preference, or by law should not read any further.
All of the characters presented here are fictional representations, including the narrator. While one of the characters (Ton) is a "celebrity" in that he has appeared in a number of porn websites, his appearance on those websites and any activities represented there do not necessarily reflect his sexual preferences. I do not know Ton, nor do I have any knowledge about how to contact him. Nor do I know Mike18, who also appears as a character in this chapter. The following story is simply a creative response to the various public representations on those websites.
If anyone is offended by the premise of the story, or by explicit sexual acts, please do not read any further.
Ton's American Adventure
Chapter 4
by eddyriha
When we awoke around noon, we were surprised to discover the skies were heavily overcast and a steady rain was drumming on the roof.
"Fuck!" I said when I looked outside. "This sure screws with my plans for the day." I turned on the TV and looked at The Weather Channel. The radar showed that we'd be stuck with rain throughout the whole day.
I had hoped that Ton and I could spend the day out in the woods, but that plan would have to be postponed until later in the week.
"What the fuck shall we do now?" I wondered aloud.
"Here," Ton said as he handed me his duffel bag. "Perhaps there are some suggestions in here."
I looked in the bag. Along with his clothes and a pair of dress shoes, Ton had brought along various kinds of restraints and sex toys. While I hadn't thought about doing anything too intense with him, especially since some of his recent photo shoots had involved that kind of bondage stuff, it looked like the change in weather had brought out the submissive in the boy.
"Down on your knees!" I commanded. He obeyed immediately, a glimmer of hopeful mischief in his eye. I pushed his hands behind his back and cuffed them together. Then I stood him up and walked him upstairs, where I had had a special doorframe installed. Uncuffing Ton, I spread his hands apart, cuffing each one to each side of the doorframe, above his head. This meant he had to stand on tiptoe for a moment, until I guided his feet into position at either side of the frame, just above the floor level. This caused him to be stretched, but not uncomfortably, across an open space, where I could work on his body from either side.
I got some shaving cream and a razor from the bathroom, and I set to work. Whoever Ton had been with last had done a good job with his legs and arms, so I didn't need to do more than smooth out a few stubbly places. He smiled when I took the razor to his armpit hair, but he seemed less amused when I shaved all the hair around his dick and balls. Clearly, that wasn't his favorite part to be shaved, which I could understand: it itches like hell when it grows back.
Once all the hair had been removed from his body, I turned my attention to his face. He didn't have much stubble on his chin or upper lip, but I shaved them anyway. I was about to turn my attention to his hair, wondering if I could get away with shaving him bald, when the phone rang.
When I answered, the voice at the other end started babbling in Russian or some other Eastern European language. (I'm not familiar enough with them to distinguish one from another.) I said, "Hold on a minute." And I brought the phone to Ton, held it to his ear, and listened as he spoke to the person on the line.
After a moment, he said, "They are doing a photo shoot down in" and he mentioned the name of a familiar New Jersey city "and they would like to borrow my services for the afternoon. If that is all right with you."
I raised my eyebrows, kind of skeptical. Was this Ton's way of getting out of his week with me?
Ton smiled. "It's just for a few hours. And they are willing to trade off time for time. You let me work with them a few hours, and then we can have a whole evening with their star."
"Who's their star?" I asked.
"He's Mike, the one who is listed as Mike-18." I was indeed familiar with the boy. He was shorter than Ton, with a thin, tanned torso and a perfect boyish butt that had only a wisp or two of hair around the tight boyhole.
I shrugged. "If you think they'll keep to their word, I'm OK with it. As long as you want to."
Ton smiled again. "It's just a job," he said. He finished making the arrangements with the person on the other end of the line, then mentioned to me the name of a well-known hotel where the shoot would be taking place. Evidently, the folks behind the photo shoot had arranged to occupy all the rooms at one end of the third floor of this hotel. Must have put them back quite a few rubles. No wonder they needed Ton to up the star attraction for this shoot. I mean, Mike is a big draw, but Mike and Ton-now that would be star power.
The drive to the hotel took longer than I expected, due to the steady rain and the traffic. But at last we arrived, and I parked the car in the hotel's covered garage. From there, it was only a matter of a short walk before we reached the elevators. Once we arrived at the third floor, it was clear which way to go to the photo shoot. Two men in dark leather jackets were immersed in reading copies of The New York Post and they were sitting outside a room door to the right of the bank of elevators. They looked up briefly at us, but obviously recognizing Ton they merely grunted and resumed reading their newspapers.
I followed Ton into a hotel room which was dazzling in its brightness. Around the bed in the center stood several bright lights, all focused on the two boys posing on the bed. One was hunched over, his head resting on his forearms, his back inclined toward his companion, whose dick was clearly penetrating the upturned ass offered to him. My own dick jumped to attention as I beheld the sight, and I awaited the beginning of some action.
But the photographer was running around the bed, adjusting cameras, muttering to himself something about too many shadows. Meanwhile, the two boys held the pose. And a heavyset bearded man in a dark leather jacket approached us, opening his arms and smiling deeply as he greeted Ton. Then he turned to me and shook my hand, introducing himself as Sergei and thanking me for bringing Ton on such short notice. "One of my best boys, he got sick last night. I ask myself, what do I do now? Then I remember, Ton is visiting America, Ton would be perfect for this shoot."
I looked at my companion. Ton shrugged. "What can I say? I'm in demand."
"Just so long as you keep something for me," I replied. "Remember that, after the shoot is over, your ass is mine."
"And so is Mike's," Ton said, nudging me and pointing to the boy kneeling on the bed, his ass offered to his partner. "His ass will be yours tonight, also."
What a prospect-two of the most gorgeous boys on the Internet, at my service for the whole evening.
"One word of caution," the bearded guy, who was clearly the producer in charge of the shoot, said to us. "This hotel, they have cameras in every hallway. So no nakedness in the hallways, OK? I don't want the hotel people knowing what we're doing up here. It's our secret, see?"
I nodded. I fully understood what he meant. This was an impromptu, unofficial photo shoot; in other words, he hadn't asked the hotel manager permission to do a porno in this establishment.
I went over to the wall and leaned against it, out of the way of the muttering photographer, the obvious bored videographer, and the overly expressive producer. At first the poses were interesting, but after awhile, even when Ton began posing with Mike, the long pauses between shots made even my perpetually excitable dick grow flaccid and bored. Of course, every time I had a direct view of Mike's ass, that perfectly rounded, muscular ass with its tiny hole, framed by wisps of dark hair, my dick immediately snapped to attention. How much I wanted that ass to myself! I had all I could do to keep from jumping him right then, right there.
As the afternoon was drawing to a close, and the rain was still pelting the windows of the hotel room, the photo and video shoot finally came to an end. Though the logistics of the event were tedious, to say the least, the moments of "action" in between were rather intense. Ton and Mike had great chemistry together, laughing and joking in between the serious ass pounding and cock sucking they were doing.
Ton came over to me afterwards, while we were all munching on pizza that Sergei had had delivered, and said, "The producer wants to spend the night with me."
"What do you mean? I thought this was just for the day."
"Well, he knows he doesn't have the right to ask, because you've been so good about lending me for the shoot. But," and here Ton paused, "he is willing to make a trade."
"What kind of trade?" If the producer wanted me to fuck him, he had another thing going. I'm not into old Russian bears.
"He'll give you Mike for the night, as he promised, and you can do anything you want with him."
"I thought that was going to happen anyway."
"Yeah, but just for a couple hours. Now you get Mike until breakfast."
And maybe for breakfast, too, I thought. "I suppose so, as long as there are no tricks."
Ton laughed. "That guy's a real prick," he said, meaning the producer, "but he never breaks his word. If he did, none of us would ever work with him."
He started to walk across the room, then stopped and turned back. "There is just one problem," he said. "Mike doesn't speak a word of English."
"Not at all?"
"Nah, he never got into it. That's mostly because he's never out doing extra work, like the stuff I do."
"But he's in so many photos and videos-"
"That's all commissioned work, directed by Sergei, who happens to be Mike's lover. He's the jealous type, not wanting to lend Mike out to other men. Maybe because he's afraid he won't get the boy back."
No chance of that with me. While I find Mike eminently fuckable, the whole language barrier presents a problem. I don't want to be the permanent lover of any boy who can't carry an extended conversation. And my Russian is nonexistent. . . . But that also told me that there was no chance of me sneaking Mike out to go somewhere else. Sergei undoubtedly had made sure that would not happen.
When Ton told Sergei that I'd agreed to the proposition, the producer nodded in my direction, a big smile lighting up his face. He motioned Mike over to him, and whispered something into his ear. Mike looked toward me, nodded, and padded slowly across the carpet, his bare feet making no sound as he walked. He looked into my eyes and smiled, though his eyes had a bored expression. Then he walked over to grab a bathrobe, wrapped it around himself, and then motioned to me to follow him.
We walked out into the hallway and down a few doors to another room. He opened the door, and I followed him in. It was a room similar to the one we had just left, except that we were the only two in it.
Mike stopped in the center of the room, faced me, and said something in Russian that I could only guess meant "What next?"
I pulled his face to mine, and we kissed. His lips were soft and firm, his tongue thick and rough against mine. His hands, thick man's hands which seemed out of place on a boy so young looking, held firmly to the sides of my face, as we probed and prodded our tongues into each other's mouths. Meanwhile I was reaching down and untying the cord around Mike's bathrobe.
Once I saw his fully naked body, relaxed and awaiting my direction, a body I had seen in so many erotic positions already today, I pulled him gently over to the bed, pushing him down so his back was against the bedspread, his legs hanging loosely to the floor. I knelt between his knees and took his stiffening cock into my mouth. I sucked it in and felt it swell gradually in my mouth, until it filled the space between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I rubbed my tongue against the soft underside of his cock, and he continued to swell and grow. I ran my mouth up and down on the shaft, allowing the tip of his cock to touch the back of my throat each time before pulling back. Then, suddenly, his cock erupted, shooting his cum into my mouth so quickly and so abundantly that I almost choked, even though I was swallowing as quickly as I could.
As his cock softened and slipped out of my mouth, I licked my lips, savoring every drop of his tasty salty cum. I looked up at him-there was a look of shock and horror in his eyes, partly also a look of regret.
"It's OK," I said. I wasn't sure how much he understood, so I made sure that the tone of my voice reflected my words. "I enjoy tasting your cum."
He seemed relieved, at least, that I wasn't angry with him. Partly, I knew that, being a young guy, he'd cum again as quickly as I wanted. And partly, that I was glad I could give him something to enjoy in the first minutes of our being together.
I stood up and beckoned him further up the bed. He slid toward the pillows, and I fitted a condom on. (There were plenty of them in every room at this hotel. When you're shooting porn, I guess you go through a lot of Trojans.)
I didn't need to worry about lubing the boy's ass: it was still well-slicked from his adventures earlier in the day. I lifted his legs and set one on each shoulder, as I crouched by his ass, my sheathed cock ready to penetrate. I looked into his eyes, and he nodded. I was half expecting him to cry out, as he had once or twice earlier, when Ton's thick cock had plunged into his rather tight hole. Mike seemed to be waiting for the same thing, but when he felt me inside him and hadn't felt any serious pain, he looked at me with an expression of pleasure and appreciation. He knew I was being gentle with him, and I could feel him relax in my arms. I drew him closer, our chests almost touching, and I kissed him firmly, deeply, our tongues swathing each other around and around, as I began gently to fuck his ass.
Mike's breathing quickened as my fucking picked up speed, but he didn't moan or gasp; he seemed to almost be sighing with contentment. His eyes closed and a smile spread across his face. His ass moved in sync with my cock, as it thrust in and pulled back, and it was only a matter of minutes before my cock exploded, shooting cum. I shot wad after wad of cum, but it stayed in the condom and didn't fill his ass like I would have liked.
He opened his eyes and kissed me on the lips. "Thank you," he gasped in English. "Thank you much."
I kissed him back and said, "You're most welcome." Then I leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "The night's still young. We've only just begun. . . ."
Whether or not he understood what I'd said, I don't know. But certainly he got the idea when I reached down and began to massage his cock.