NSFW

I Did Some Gay Porn Once

Filed under : Filthy Stories, Funny Stories

Story 19 of 365

Est. Reading Time 6 minutes

When I was 20, I lived in a 2-bedroom shithole apartment in the semi-ghetto of Phoenix. This 2-bedroom apartment was $455/month. This is when a 1-bedroom in a normal Phoenix suburb would average about $700/month, so you can imagine how shitty the area was. With rent that cheap, I never held down a job for the entire 8+ months I lived in this wretched, stinking, shithole apartment. Instead, I got by on whatever means I could. This included drug dealing, making websites, and (accidentally) posing for a gay porn site.

I was job-hunting online and found an ad that just said “MALE MODELS NEEDED – ALL TYPES – GOOD PAY”. I’m not so naive to assume that “male modeling” as advertised on Craigslist is going to be non-nude. In fact, I had assumed it was full-on porno. But I needed the cash. I called the number, they said “we’ve got all the females we need for our adult site, so now we just need men now – the pay is $250 per shoot. Takes about an hour”. Pretty straight-forward, and that’s a half a month’s rent for an hour of work. Done and done.

I called up my friend Nick 1he’s been referred to under a different name before this story, but he’ll be very upset if I mention him in this context – so ...continue, told him the scoop. He said “well, let’s go meet with ’em dude, might be kinda cool. I could use a few hundred extra bucks”.

I called the pornographers, and we set up a public meeting space at a coffee shop in downtown Phoenix. My friend Cheyenne 2no, that’s not her real name was my go-to ride those days, so she drove us out there. She was laughing her ass off, cause she didn’t buy the “we already have all the females we needed” bit. Whatever. Skeptic.

Nick, Cheyenne, and I showed up and met with a guy in his late 20’s. A somewhat heavy-set guy, he didn’t come off like a creep or a perv, and he was forthright with the details of the shoot, so I felt comfortable. He told us the location of the place, where we’d be shooting the following night.

Nick showed up with his favorite recent issue of Playboy, featuring “Downtown” Julie Brown of former MTV fame, cause he plans ahead of time for things like this. I did not.

They gave us the rundown :

10 pics in full clothes
20 pics in various states of undress
10 pics lying in boxer-briefs (which they provided, oddly enough)
10-20 nudes

I was to go first. Cheyenne and Nick hung out on the balcony of the place and smoked, luckily out of view of the living room where the shoot was taking place. I was handed my white boxer-briefs, and I remember saying “but.. I don’t wear underwear” – “well, you do for this shoot” but the boxer-briefs were at least a few sizes too large. They were more like long shorts, coming down to just above my knees, and bulging out in all the wrong places.

I went into the bathroom to put those on, and to prepare myself for the shoot. I sat in this bathroom, looking down at my flaccid dick, thinking “okay penis, don’t fail me now”.

It failed me.

I pulled, I twisted, I sat and thought about woman I’d ever been with, and even more about the ones I’d always wanted. I thought I’d only been in there for a minute or so, until they knocked and said “hey Mitcz – you about ready in there?”. Fuck. “Uhh… well, I’ve got the boxer-briefs on but… can I come back in here before the nudes?” – “Yeah man, that’s fine, c’mon out”.

I walked out, looking  like this 3ohh to be that young and thin again :

After doing an embarrassing set of photos in various states of undress…

…. I was ready for my nudes. At least, I was supposed to be ready. “Nick, hit me with that Playboy!”. Playboy’s never been my thing. Playboy was just too plastic. Too glamorous. And not nearly filthy enough for me. Today was no different. I couldn’t get shit to happen here.

They knocked on the door – “hey man, hurry up, we gotta get your friend’s shots done, too!”

Fuck. I wasn’t afraid of nudity, necessarily, but I’m still afraid of nudity while flaccid. A small bit of hope came, in the final minute of sitting in that bathroom. I got hard. Really fuckin’ hard. I almost shot a load, hard. I was so excited that I rushed out and fell flat on my face because I forgot to pull up the boxer-briefs. I picked myself up, rushed into the room and said “get that camera – the cock is hard!” 4ahh.. the sentences you never think you’re gonna say.

I ripped the boxer-briefs off with the determination of a fuckin’ tiger and guess what? The goddamn cock was not goddamned hard. They said “fuck it, we’ve gotta get these done” and the shoot continued.

There was the photographer, and the guy we met earlier – who was “directing” this shoot. I remember this exchange :

Guy #1 : Can you… pull on your thing?
Guy #2 : It’s not his “thing” it’s a cock! Call it a cock!
Guy #1 : No, I meant his… the ring, ya know… yeah, pull on the ring. Goooooood.

Wonderful.

I basically pulled on my dick piercing to stretch my limp-and-frightened dick out enough to give some attempt at an erect appearance. My thinking was “at least the viewers will see that it could be big…ish when hard”, like I was showing them the stretching of a balloon in an attempt to sell it.

So, I finished up, got dressed and joined Cheyenne on the balcony while Nick went in to face the music. He took considerably less time than me, and I had in fact thought he was done when I walked back in to use the bathroom. But, nope. There was Nick, standing in the corner of the room, butt-ass naked, with his bare ass pointing towards the camera, jerking himself with the speed, voracity and determination you see only in porn, yelling “okay, I’m gonna pull it a few more times then take a few more shots.. I just don’t wanna cum”.

Nick was a fuckin’ pro. Dude waltzed in there and took care of business. He didn’t need a trip to the bathroom and memories of non-existent women and Playboy mags – he had his hand, his pride, and a corner. Nick’s still my hero for that. Fuckin’ amazing porno hero.

A few minutes later, the photographer said “wanna come take a look at your shots?”. Naively assuming he knew I was on the couch, I got up and walked to the laptop. Forever now this moment will be burned into my retina, as the overweight photographer stepped out of the way of the laptop, said “See? Pretty good, eh?” and there before me was a full-screen image of Nick holding his rock-hard, bulging member, held firmly in hand like he was going into battle, staring into the camera with the gayest facial expression I’ve ever seen.

It wasn’t until I saw the site – “Str8boy.com” that I finally realized “oh. this is a GAY porn site”. They said “yeah”. I said “but… you said you had female models?” – “ohh.. yeah, we tell everyone that”.

I never did get those photos. Bastards wanted me to pay for a membership to the site. I offered up a logo, which they used, but “forgot” to send me my photos. Not even sure if they ever used them, frankly. I sure wouldn’t.

The only nude image from the set I ever had was a tiny little thumbnail photo that I thought actually looked pretty cool. I’m crawling on my hands and knees towards the camera, giving the “tiger face”. (Un?)fortunately, it’s a bit too small to see much of anything.

Footnotes   [ + ]

1. he’s been referred to under a different name before this story, but he’ll be very upset if I mention him in this context – so I’m using a psuedonym
2. no, that’s not her real name
3. ohh to be that young and thin again
4. ahh.. the sentences you never think you’re gonna say