Episode
2 -Auto-Tracing
Rummaging through the top shelf of his bedroom
closet, Trace could not find a tape that suited his mood. He
thought “Rim Shot” might be an option. The title
alone set his cock to thickening, but he was already so familiar
with its scenes they played before his eyes before he could
play them on the television. He wanted something less familiar.
He tossed “Rim Shot” to the back of the shelf and
picked up “Undergear.” He had watched it before
but had not used all of its erotic potential, and even though
he exhausted the limp three-way finale, he had not fully spent
the erotic currency of the other scenes. He barely remembered
the scene before the three-way, and if that scene failed to
excite, he was certain he could pull off a good load watching
the tape’s first pairing pull themselves off while sitting
naked and side-by-side on a couch.
Trace walked into the living room and slid
the tape into the VCR. Fingering his pants open, they fell to
his knees as he lowered himself to the couch. Reclining, he
shifted his ass forward and placed his feet stirrup style on
the coffee table and took himself in hand.
His semi flaccid cock thickened as he tugged
at his balls with his free hand, and his head mushroomed as
he slowly and firmly fisted his shaft and urged the already
surging blood up into his head. A tickle of pleasure permeated
his cock, but he knew he would need more buildup for a better
orgasm.
Trace released his cock, which slapped against
his stomach, and grabbed the remote. Intending to find the two
guys masturbating on the couch, he aimed it at the VCR, but
before he could hit rewind, he was frozen with fascination at
what he saw on the screen.
Two men stood in a shop. A blonde worked behind
the counter, but the man who caught Trace’s attention
was the striking brunette who leaned seductively against the
counter as he was making his purchase. Trace absorbed the brunette’s
presence as his sense of beauty calibrated to a higher register.
The raven haired, blue-green eyed, and olive skinned actor was
unlike any man he had seen before. His screen presence exuded
a physicality that suffused the air surrounding the television
with the heat generated by his beauty. Trace had seen beautiful
men on the street, along beaches, on videotapes, and on the
porn screen of dreams, but this man, who could only be born
of the postmodern era, was also made an extinct species by it,
for he was a form from which there was no original to copy;
his beauty being the negative of beauty itself.
The crushed green velvet-eyed man took a shopping
bag from the blonde, said ‘thank you,’ and walked
out the door. The entire scene lasted less than thirty seconds.
The next frame returned to the twink blonde shopkeeper and Norse
blonde customer fucking in the dressing room. Not a fan of the
twink and the Norseman’s scene, Trace always fast-forwarded
through it, and that is how he had missed the shop scene, and
now, having seen it, he wanted to see the raven-haired man again,
but he could not remember where he appeared on the rest of the
tape.
Trace thumbed the fast forward button, and
the Norseman began jackrabbiting the twink’s ass. The
frames played in rapid succession, and he reflexively hit play
the second the raven-haired man appeared on the screen again.
Trace dropped the remote and watched.
The man now stood in a bedroom wearing a button
down shirt and black briefs with white trimming. He held the
shopping bag and called to his friend Chris. Chris, a blonde
everyman, walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
The raven-haired man pulled a pair of briefs from the bag and
dangled them before the seated man. Chris fingered them and
urged him to put them on. Answering with a glassy eyed leer,
the emerald eyed man raised his shirttails, pulled the briefs
from his body and replaced them with the black bikini cut pair
from the store. Dropping his shirttails, he unbuttoned his shirt,
and as the shirt fell to the floor, he asked, “How’s
it look?”
Trace sat motionless with his rock hard cock
standing between his legs and explored the raven-haired man’s
body with his eyes. It was smooth, and its olive coloring continued
seamlessly from head to toe. His skin was tautly layered over
a subtle, yet noticeably, toned musculature, and its imperfection
lie unbroken as it tautly covered the symmetry of his frame.
The camera loved the texture of his skin, and running his eyes
over it, Trace almost feel it beneath his finger pads, and he
longed to touch the shrunken skull tattoo on the man’s
bicep.
While Trace was traversing the brunette’s
body, Chris pulled a pair of red briefs from the bag and changed
into them. The two men stood facing each other dressed only
in their undergear. Slowly, they began to tongue each other
as they peeled the briefs from one another’s bodies.
The raven-haired man dropped to his knees and
took Chris’s cock in his mouth. Trace wrapped his fingers
around his shaft and slowly fisted himself as he watched the
brunette mouth Chris’s crotch. Trace wanted to reach out
and run his fingers through his shimmering hair and wondered
what it would feel like to run his cock through it.
A warmth rippled through his cock as a generous
trickle of pre-cum oozed from his head and over his knuckles.
His cock hardened further, and its rigidity allowed him to grip
harder, creating a friction he had not experienced before. Trace
exhaled as another drop of pre-cum fell over his already wet
fingers.
Trace’s breathing sharpened, and he looked
up in time to see Chris taking the brunette’s cock between
his lips. This inspired Trace to explore his balls with his
free hand. He grabbed them and pulled. Tugging them again, his
index finger grazed the top of his asshole, and for the first
time, Trace felt the simultaneous pleasuring of cock and ass.
The pleasurable sensation beneath his finger surprised him,
and he thrust his hips forward and pushed his finger into his
asshole. Before long, he instinctively felt his way in and pressed
the flesh of his fingertip against his prostate. Having found
this spot, Trace would not let up on it and continued to press
deeper into himself as he vigorously fisted his cock.
Immersed in his pleasure, Trace had lost track
of the two men. Extending his fisting to the base of his cock
to the tip of his head, he looked up to find the brunette bent
over and holding onto the post of a four-posted bed with Chris
thrusting his cock into him from behind and simultaneously fisting
him. Pleasured breathless, the brunette turned his head, and
the two men kissed.
Trace bucked and panted as three jets of cum
spurted out from his cock and laced his stomach. Digging his
fingertip into his prostate with each contraction, he rode his
finger until his balls were drained of cum.
Exhausted, Trace fingered the remote with his
cum drenched fingers and stopped the video. He did not want
to waste a moment of the scene, but the raven-haired man remained
on his mind as he hit the rewound button.
As the tape rewound, Trace reclined and caught
his breath. He watched the cum run down his stomach as he realized
he wanted to stop having sex alone. He had been toying with
the idea the idea of placing a personal ad, and earlier that
day, he almost picked up a copy of the Advocate, a local paper
known for its personals. Resigned to end his sexual solitude,
Trace decided he would place an ad that week.
The VCR punctuated his decision with a loud
click as the tape stopped rewinding. Pressing play, he watched
the face credits. He stopped breathing the moment the brunette’s
face filled the screen and read the credit beneath it: Featuring
Joey Stefano.
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