Tyler Knight

My hand clasps the warehouse door, I pause for a moment to pray.

Head lowered, breathing slowed. Sun, warming my nape. Hint of a smile on my face, I open the door and enter Alpha Man’s reception area.

My eyes need a moment to adjust to the lower light level. I hear the voices before the faces fill in. Asian girls of every shape skin tone color, and size are lounging around the sofas. One dark-skinned girl with waist-length black hair is dressed in a bright floral print dress, and a crown of flowers on her head. Some girls are dressed in sweats, some dressed in designer fashion. Yet another is in cut-offs showing her long golden thighs. All of them are evaluating their options.

Today’s scene is an orgy. For these events, girls typically have a limitation to the number of boys they will fuck within the scene unless more money is offered.

Among those girls, are a hand-full of young black men fighting for position. Though the pussy is guaranteed, boys preen and seduce; each kid doing his best to show why he’s the most desirable mate. This is the only time in porn history where you will get a bunch of young black guys to operate away from CPT (Colored People Time). I can say this: I’m black, and it is true. They are all early. I’m late.

Someone notices me standing at the door and the seduction, pathos, and fuck-brokering stops. Twenty-eight eyeballs burn into a singular point. Me. Some girls smile. Others play stoic but their body language betrays them. The Flower Girl flat-out stares at me, mouth open. The boys grumble, suck their teeth and sigh. One kid takes his preening rituals up a few notches and struts between me and the girls, talking loud. In his expensive Borealis-blue track suit, he resembles a chortling peacock on the make.

Alpha Man, the director, bursts into the reception area from the office proper to coordinate who will be working with whom, and how many partners each girl will work with. The girls point to me. All of them. Obviously, all girls on me can not possibly work out for an orgy. Negotiations, barters, begging and ultimatums ensue from all parties as I hide in a corner making myself invisible.

For the disruption my presence is causing, Alpha Man is probably contemplating choking me out, and dumping my groggy ass in his warehouse while they drive to the location without me. He shoots me a look that can cut steel, and I suppress the impulse to run for the door.

After a while this studio’s contract porn star and master negotiator, Mitch Adams, strides in from the warehouse. I have never been so happy to see another male talent. The man’s baritone voice is hypnotic, and even I am nearly convinced that I am the least desirable male talent to work with in the room. Boys sitting on the sidelines like 5th graders picked last for kick ball are now popular. All is forgiven as Mitch coordinates the “Fuck Flow Chart” (this is written down with colored dry erase markers on a white board) to everyone’s satisfaction.

The Crucible

I’m standing in the eye of the Orgy. Wet sounds of sixty nines, and blow jobs ricochet about the walls all around me. On my little sex island, Aveena Lee, and Nautica Thorn are both on their knees slurping away on my cock, as if to establish who the best is. The orgy is only 5 minutes old and I am dying, trying not to come. If you come too soon, you will be fired on the spot and your reputation as a professional male talent will be ruined. My eyes rove the room in an attempt to divert my attention from what is happening to me.

Everything looks surreal under the bright Keno Flo lights, washing reality in a garish, cartoon flavoring. Colors, are punched up. Edges sharpened. Sweat glistens.

One Asian girl (named Asia) is double fisting another guy’s whale cock, as it flips to and fro in her hands. It’s like an x-rated anime with a girl wrestling a tentacle.

Below me, the swap-sucking continues. One girl would be gracious enough to hold my dick in place while the other girl assaults it. Nautica then stands to kiss me leaving Aveena on her knees to attend to my dick, solo. Lazy arms draped across my shoulders. Me cupping a firm, young ass. Space-Time distorted, I drift in the moment.

I guide Nautica down on the floor and fuck her where she lay, turning myself into a man-blanket only to be chided by a camera man that “I cant see shit! Open up for the camera.”

“SWITCH!”, screams Alpha Man from behind another camera.

The game of musical cocks begins as the girls all make the mad dash to their next fuck partner. I see a Korean girl, Lisa, who insisted on sticking with only two guys, including me, look at me with pleading eyes from across the blur of bodies dashing between us. Before I can react, a tiny hand with alarming strength tugs at my arm, dragging me away. I give Lisa a “sorry” shrug as I am pushed down into the sofa. The reality is I probably would not have fucked her anyway because I had her before in another scene. Old pussy.

I’m looking up to a pair of brown eyes peeking out at me from behind cascade of sweat drenched hair. The familiar warmth of another snug vagina encircles my penis.

I sit there while she bounces up and down on my dick, getting off several times. A few girls nearby our spot in the orgy stop to watch as this kid from orgasm after orgasm. “You go girl! get you some!” from one of the other girls. Occasionally, I actually fuck her back, but the reason I ‘m conservative with the fucking is the girl has a death grip pussy. If I fuck her back and I pop, I’m done for the day.

Moans, more akin to a zombie invasion than a fuck-fest, fill the air from all corners of the room, punctuated with staccato squeals. The girl on top of me, humping away. This kid is killing me. Everything in me is telling me to come in her but I fight what is natural. My focus changed to: it’s really hot under these fucking lights, and I’m sweating. Wet slapping sounds of bodies crashing into each other surround me.
My balls are twitching. Not yet.

“SWITCH!”

Thank you, Jesus!

Before I can move, another girl lowers her hot muff onto my dick. Mercifully, she is not anywhere near as snug. However–

What the hell is my dick bumping into deep in her pussy?

Reading the question mark on my face this girl says, “Oh…I’m on my period. Is the sponge bothering you?”

“Not at all.” I’m just happy to get a break in the action.

Another couple takes a spot next to us in the exact same cowgirl position. Two pistons, side by side, in hypnotic up and down action.

Keeping myself busy, I grab a breast dangling in front of me.

Damn. Fake.

I suppress the desire to laugh, as I recall a conversation earlier in the waiting room:

“Wow your tits look amazing. Are they real?”

“Of course they are real!!”

“SWITCH!”

Still on my back, this time stretched across the same sofa. Random Number One is smothering me with her ass on my face. She and Random Girl Number Two are licking my cock, as I have front row seats to beautiful meat curtains framing bubble gum pink. Can’t see who is doing what but you can feel that they have two distinct styles. Nubs of a thousand taste buds up one side of my shaft, all the while cushy lips down the other.

Balls say, “Can we come now?”

“No!”

“Sonoavabitch!”, from somewhere across the tempest. Somebody has come too soon. There is always one. Arguing erupts.

“I’m OK! Gimmie a minute to recover!”

“Get the fuck off of my set, you goddamn mope!”

Better him than me.

“SWITCH!”

The “Fuck Flow Chart” had been ignored, so this time it’s Tyler’s choice. I want Aveena. A rival turns to my quarry.

Fuck-THAT!

I sprint, balls flapping and cock swinging, across the room and tackle a giggling Aveena Lee! I bend her over.

The entire time we are locked in doggy style she is shit talking. Taunting me while we sprint-fuck at the upper limits of my Viagrad-up heart.

“Fuck me damn it!”

“I am!”

My lungs burn as they fight to exchange stale air for fresh.

“Harder! Fuck me like you mean it!. C’mon, give it to me! Give-me-your-cock!”

The smell, once only on the periphery of my consciousness now takes it’s place front and center of my senses. A unique bouquet of pheromones, assholes, balls, sweat, and pussy–all baked under the Kino Flo lights. Strangely, this does not bother me in the least. Inebriated by the musky aroma of animal lust, I want to beat my chest and howl.

The Tourette’s afflicted Aveena say, “Yeah motherfucker, that’s my spot–no don’t slow down you idiot! Ugh,you suck at fucking!”

Aveena gives no quarter, flexing her Kegels and she will pop me if I am not vigilant. We’ve locked into this position for a good 20 minutes now, ignoring the calls for “Switch!” Same nerves on my dick being stimulated over, and over. Her pussy is heating to the friction.

She coos, “There there, it’s ok.”

Somebody call “Switch!”

Aveena talking shit, does not give me he option of zoning my mind out. Each time I am on the verge of coming, I attempt to compartmentalize my environment and what is happening to me. Each time, Aveena finds me and drags me back to the Orgy. No escape.

I’m a professional! I can not let this girl make me pop too soon. I made it this far!

I’m a trapped animal. Chemicals bathe my brain mix of lust, and fear. Fear that if she does pop me I will be humiliated like the kid that got fired earlier. Reputation in this business is everything and a fuck up this early in my career will cost me my livelihood. I make an error of looking down. Her heart-shaped ass is wrapped in golden skin. Sweat beads skip and bounce, sliding into a pool on her lower back. There is a tan line shaped like a golden “T”; the top of the t spreads out across her hips and the stem plunges down into the crevasse. I see my hands gripped around her hips. Fingers digging into her flesh. I drift.

Dear God, I’m gonna cu-

“CUT!”

Teetering on the edge of bliss, I withdraw myself from Aveena with great care, but she reaches back and claws my side, fighting me like a snarling hyena on a bone. I’m free.

It’s pop shot time. The girls all kneel side by side. The boys file behind one another to one-by-one jerk off into the starlets’s faces.  Multicolored cum from a half-dozen men drips down the girl’s faces.

And that would be me, last in line, standing in front of the kneeling, cum drenched women. Torquing my dick. Unable to come.

This is almost funny.

The pop shots are for all intents timed. Timed in the sense that the director’s dream is to get every pop shot off within seconds of each other. Timed also in the sense that I know they are running out of tape. This pressure is not conducive to getting off.

It is cruel being a man sometimes. Being a male porn star is worse. Having to save my one shot for when it is most convenient for someone else. I know there is nothing erotic about stroking off to girls drenched in other men’s cum. So I choose to not see them. I shut my eyes.

Stroke-stroke-stroke-stroke…

Sounds of snowballing–cum swapping between the girls–enter my ears. I know from experience that I have to keep my eyes shut at all costs.

Snowballing is when the male talent comes into one girls mouth and the come is passed down the line to the next girl, then the next, then the next. The last girl lets the collective come and drool from all the girls before her drip and dribble into her mouth.

My job, as the last guy to come, is “The icing on the cake”. I stand over the last girl, whom is drenched in come, and glaze her face with my load. The last guy is seldom picked. It’s punishment for the man who takes too long to pop. You control your fate. Don’t wanna be the last guy, then come early.

An unseen girl talking to another girl, “Mmmm. Lemme lick that cum off your chin!”

Shut the fuck up!

stroke-stroke-stroke…

Swishing sounds. Cum gargling–

Almost there–

stroke-stroke…

I turn within my mind to find my groove;

bouncing.
sweet cotton candy, and
that stubborn dew
drop trickling down the glass
of lemonade.

I release. Two hours of non-stop fucking. I hate pussy.

Aftermath

As soon as the last pop is delivered, Alpha takes his hand-held camera, and asks the girls to rate each guy, and how he fucked her.

The mini feuds that I was oblivious to during the orgy surface, as some boys rate a two. The kid that came too soon got a zero.

Mitch, whom all the girls love gets an average of a nine, and I get an eight. Can’t please everybody.

Gathering my clothes, I am approached by Sponge Girl.

She says, “Can you help me get the sponge out of my pussy? It’s stuck.”

No, you stupid whore. I just want to go home.

“Sure, let’s go to the bathroom.”

I am on my knees, neck twisted askew, while I pry this snatch open with one hand and fish for the sponge with the other hand. Sponge girl is sobbing. After exhausting every possible combination of fingers and angles, I am convinced this girls vagina is an Event Horizon for which no foreign matter will ever escape.

Crying her lungs out, she says, “I don’t want to get toxic shock. You have to get it out!!”

Sweat dripping from my brow to the floor. My neck is twisted at an angle as if to see inside her dark cavern, which I can’t. I dig back into her vagina, this time getting a finger on the elusive sponge.

“Is that a makeup sponge you put in your pussy?”

Sobbing, “Yeah.”

Christ. I should just leave you here to die.

After 10 minutes it comes out in a red gooey mess. She dashes out of the bathroom without as much as a “Thank you”, leaving her period sponge in my hand.

Sigh. Being a male porn star is so glamorous.

The house seems empty. Talent is headed to Alpha’s office to get the pay checks. I find an empty dark bed room and attempt something I’ve always wanted to try. It has been said that Ron Jeremy could suck his own dick. Using a wall for support, I flip my legs over my head. I stick out my tongue.

Damn! Just a 1/2 inch more–

Just then, the lights come on with a “FLICK!”

The bedroom floods with light, and from my upside down point of view I see porn stars that still have some fuck left in them enter. Other naked people who I had no idea were even in the room are scurrying under furniture like roaches.

And then there’s me. Asshole in the air. Trying to suck my own cock.

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Tagged: Creative Memoir, Short Story