A gay story: Path to Glory It was just a start, eighteen-year-old Brian’s acting coach said, but “If you play your cards right, it will be a beginning of getting into the movies. You’ll have to do what you have to do, though.” Brian understood what that meant. He’d done what he had to do to get Andre Giroux as his acting coach and for Giroux to ferret out this movie opportunity for him. It’s hard to claim you won’t do what needs to be done to get favor from a man who is on top of you and inside you whenever he wants to be.
The movie was to be called Big Sky, which was the name of the big ranch in Oklahoma that the main setting for a movie about the advent of the oil empires was to be. This wasn’t Oklahoma, though. This was the first scene in the movie set in the horse country of Kentucky, at a thoroughbred stable in the rolling hills to the east of Lexington. This was the scene where the young, hunky Oklahoma rancher, Bret Emerson, was coming to buy a former champion racehorse for stud and wound up finding a southern belle to marry and take back to Oklahoma.
The stars playing Bret, Ray Fritz, and the movie character’s wife-to-be, Sissy, Laurie Tyler, were top box office stars of the day. Both were beautiful people who would burn up the screen with the sizzle they would display for each other in the movie. It didn’t matter that, off the screen, Ray preferred men and Laurie preferred women. This was the fantasy world of Hollywood. The minor, heartthrob lead, a ranch hand who would be something of a rival of Bret’s for Sissy’s attentions, was no more than a year older than Brian. Kyle Sheen was nineteen, a sultry and sulky rebel, and sex on a stick.
Brian had studied every moved Sheen had made on the silver screen so far. He wanted to be the sultry, bad-boy star and saw no reason why he shouldn’t be able to do so soon. Sheen was only a year older than he was. All Brian needed was a well-placed mentor and a break. He had pretty much gotten all he could out of Andre Giroux, and it was time for him to move up.
Brian would only be seen in this one take, which was totally separate from the bulk of the movie set that would be filmed in Oklahoma. He had been recruited for this small, nonspeaking part because of Ray Fritz’s needs and the film studios desire to keep its leading man in this film happy. The two had become acquainted and comfortable with each other before the filming of the scene, although to this point it had been suggestive talk and a bit of touching and fondling. It was all a stepping-stone progression. If Brian hadn’t put out for Andre Giroux, when Giroux was contacted for recommendations on extras for the movie, he wouldn’t have been able to reveal what extra services Brian would be willing to give.
Brian’s appearance before the cameras was a short one. The filming had come to Kentucky because the movie’s director, Carlos Stainer, wanted to be as authentic as possible. The Linden Hall stables housed the former racing champion, War Chief, who had been put out to stud. Stainer insisted on using a real thoroughbred race horse in the film. Also, Linden Hall had the typical antebellum southern mansion look that would contrast with what Sissy would find on the dusty Oklahoma ranch Bret took her to before it too was made magnificent over the years as oil made the family filthy rich.
Brian, trim, blond, bare-chested, tanned, and achingly handsome as an eighteen-year-old stable boy and jockey in the film, led War Chief out of the stables and into a large horse ring, set in a rolling, lush, green Kentucky setting. Bret and Sissy stood at the pristine-white-painted fence surrounding the ring.
“Show him what he will do still,” Sissy, a gorgeous, trim, but buxom young woman with mesmerizing violet eyes, called out, and Brian mounted the horse and rode around the ring, providing hazed-out background, while the close-up cameras caught the conversation between Sissy and Bret that presaged that these two would be married and would be dynamite in bed and power partners through life. Young, handsome, bare-chested, and horse-mounted Brian circled the ring in the background, ever in the suggestive view of the camera.
When the conversation had threatened to become too steamy for a southern belle on her first meeting with the man of her dreams, Sissy suddenly called out, “That’s enough, Johnny. Bring him over here.”
The tableau became the young jockey and horse approaching the somewhat embarrassed couple at the fence who both realized that more than the purchase of a stud horse was unfolding here. Sexy, bare-chested Brian became the center of attention of both man and woman to avoid eye contact between them long enough for the camera to catch what was happening here. The cameras couldn’t devote many frames to Bret looking at the Johnny character, though, because, as good an actor as Ray Fritz was, the camera could not hide his lust for the young man. The camera swung to Sissy feeding a carrot to War Chief and the delivery of her, “Take him back to the stable now, Johnny, and brush him down good.” Sissy’s look at the Johnny character was no less lusty and speculating as Ray Fritz’s had been.
As Brian led War Chief back to the stables, and Brian’s movie debut came to an end, the sulky rebel second lead sauntered up to segue into the next scene and to add another dynamic in the love interests in the movie.
That was it. That was the totality of Brian’s first movie role. His murmured “Yes ma’am,” was all he said in the movie. There was a brief effort by Ray Fritz to have his role expanded–to have him accompany War Chief to Oklahoma to continue to be the horse’s groom, but the writers and the director didn’t bite. Brian’s sexy, bare-chested role in the movie was there to establish the lusts of the two principle characters. Any carry through of these two with the stable groomer was left to the viewer’s imagination–at least in the movie version. The actors, Ray Fritz and Laurie were free to pursue their interests with Brian outside of the confines of the movie script.
This brief screen appearance was more than enough for Brian in starting his movie career, though. He’d been smitten with the looks both Ray and Laurie had graced him with through the three takes of the scene snippet that Carson Stainer had insisted on, but he was more smitten with Ray’s eye contact. He had good reason to know that Ray was already smitten with him–and that Laurie had no idea at all how and why Brian had gotten this small part in the movie–not that she cared. Although she too looked at Brian with lust, she had eyes more for the mannish actress cast to play Bret’s sister back at the ranch in Oklahoma.
Standing off behind the cameras, Carlos Stainer and Ray Fritz’s agent, Eddie Evans, were nodding their heads, pleased with how well the scene–and Brian’s and War Chief’s role in it–had gone. There would be sizzle for the secretly gay theater goers to revel in as well as the usual arousal of those liking to see the two leads together. Eddie Evans looked at eighteen-year-old Brian with a speculative eye. The acting coach had been right about the young man. He was as worthy to be studded and created into a movie legend as War Chief was in going to stud.
The young man was showing as much star potential has Ray Fritz had done when Evans discovered and recreated him.
* * * *
Brian juggled the cold six-pack of beer in one hand while perching precariously on the narrow steps up to the door of the dressing room trailer and knocking on the door with the other hand. Ray Fritz, just wearing athletic shorts and sandals opened the trailer door. His face lit up into a smile.
“Mr. Evans asked me to bring this beer to you,” Brian said.
“Ah, gift of the gods,” Fritz said, with a grin. “And I’m talking about the beer too. Eddie knows how to take care of his clients. It’s hot as hell in here. But don’t stand there for the world to see”–ever mindful of the curious press, he looked in all directions to see if they were being observed–“Come on in. Come on in.” He reached out, put an arm around the young man’s shoulders, pulled him into the trailer, and, giving the area another sweep of his eyes, shut the door.
“Here, Ben–”
“I’m Brian. Do you want me to go get Ben?”
“Brian. Whatever. I have script meeting this afternoon. I can’t possibly drink all of this beer myself. Have one and take a load off on the couch over there.”
“I really can’t. I’m only eighteen.” Brian knew, of course, that he was establishing more than a drinking age.
“But you’re such a mature eighteen. You’re old enough to mess around like we did yesterday, so you’re old enough to drink a beer. I’m king here, and the king says it’s fine.”
“Well, OK,” Brian said. He took a beer and sat down on the couch across from the door. The trailer wasn’t big, but it had everything needed in an on-location dressing room, including a kitchenette a bathroom not much bigger than you’d find in an airplane and a small bedroom, dominated by a double bed in the back. And it, and Laurie Tyler’s trailer, were, of course, the nicest ones on the set. Only the director’s trailer was better than this one. Brian would do almost anything to have a trailer on a movie set like this someday. A dressing table with a mirror surrounded by light bulbs had been wedged in against the wall separating the main compartment from the bedroom. The loaded costume rack took up enough space to be in the way of movement from front to back.
Fritz sat down on the couch, no wider than a love seat, beside Brian, put an arm around the young man’s shoulders and pulled him in close. He sniffed the young man’s hair. “Um, nice. Youths are so fresh. You did great on the set today.”
“Thanks,” Brian answered, his ego swollen whether or not the man was just trying to make him. A compliment like that from a major star was a real ego boost. Brian wished he could get it in writing.
“Yes, play your cards right and you can go far in movies.”
The man, of course, was telling Brian to lie back and open his legs to him. Brian wouldn’t give him any opposition in that department.
Impatient, Fritz didn’t let the young man sip more than half a can of beer, during which he’d unbuttoned the silk jockey’s shirt Brian was still wearing from the filming and was running his hand over the young man’s chest.
“You OK, Ben?”
“Brian. Yes, I’m fine,” the young man answered.
“You gonna lay down for me nicely, Brian?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Umm, you smell so nice.”
In short order Fritz took the can from Brian’s hand, reached over and put it on the table across from the kitchenette, and was pressing on the Brian’s shoulders.
“I think you know what to do now,” he murmured. “Acting is so demanding. You can help me a lot in releasing tension.”
Brian took the hint and turned on the couch. “Yes, sir, happy to help.” He went down on his knees between the man’s spread thighs, pulled the waistband of Fritz’s athletic shorts to under his balls, and took the actor’s erection in his mouth. He wasn’t appreciably long, but he was almost as thick as the beer cans they were chugging from.
When Fritz felt that any more sucking and he might blow, he pushed the young man’s face out of his crotch, took Brian up in his arms, rose from the couch, and stumbled the few feet needed to get them into the bedroom.
“So nice, so fuckin’ nice,” he murmured as they moved. “Such a fine, young body.”
Brian was lowered onto his back at the foot of the bed, and he started panting and moaning, as Fritz’s mouth and tongue worked his cock and balls and opened up his hole.
“So small and young. So fresh. So smooth and yielding,” Fritz murmured as he rose over the young man’s body, tonguing his way up Brian’s torso. Brian didn’t resist. Not only was he in awe at having the attention from one of the most popular male movie stars of the day, but also this was not unusual for him for the last few months when he had started his acting studies. He was not averse to attention from men by disposition to begin with. He had long known what his preference would be. But beyond that, ever since his acting coach had taken him under his wing and onto his couch, Brian had known that this was the give and take that was expected of him to get anywhere in the entertainment business.
He gave a little cry and arched his back, reaching for the man’s biceps and digging his nails in as Fritz worked hard to force himself in the slender young man’s anus. The man was a star in more than acting, and the size of his equipment no doubt had something to do with his own rise in an industry with a strong representation of gay men lining its underbelly. The star’s need and self-centeredness caused Brian no little suffering as the man asserted the primacy of his lustful demands. But Brian would endure. This was exactly the path to glory he wanted to be on.
In, out. Up, down. In, out, with Brian loosening up, giving more in to the demanding, thrusting cock as it dominated him.
The young man panted, groaned, and writhed a bit under the weight of the man as the mounting and thick penetration was completed, but as the thrusts took up a steady beat, he relaxed, lay back, willing himself to stretch to the movie star’s need, and turned his eyes toward the door into the other compartment. It was done. The man was in and mastering him. It wasn’t like Brian had never done this before. He set his own pelvis into a rocking motion, as Fritz established the rhythm of the fuck, whispering, “sweet, nice, sweet,” over and over again. This wasn’t anything that Brian hadn’t let his acting coach do. But this was a leading movie star. Brian was caught up in the glamor and opportunity of it.
What had caught the young man’s attention was the realization they weren’t alone. Eddie Evans, Fritz’s agent, had entered the trailer and was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, slouching against the doorframe, watching the fuck, his erection out of his fly and in his hand, being stroked.
He didn’t stand there for very long, though. He moved into position behind Ray Fritz. The movie star grunted and Brian could feel the man stiffen and shudder as, grasping his hips between his hands, Evans mounted Fritz from behind. Then for the next several minutes, it was a dance of the threesome: the movie star fucking the young man in the missionary position and the agent fucking the movie star in the doggy position.
The trailer rocked gently on its shocks and the three, fused in the fuck, moved to their individual releases.
* * * *
Ray Fritz had left the trailer–in a hurry, answering the pounding on the door. The script-reading session he’d had on for that afternoon was being held earlier than he had thought. He just pulled his athletic shorts and a T-shirt back on and, with a “More, later,” was gone.
The agent, Eddie Evans, didn’t leave, though. After seeing Fritz off at the trailer door, he came in the bedroom and sat on the bed beside where the eighteen-year-old, body-perfect young man, Brian, lay on his back, panting lightly, arms and legs vulnerably splayed, eyes clouded with the cum Fritz had just pumped into him. Evans wasn’t a handsome or fit man. He wasn’t exactly ugly, but he had the aspect of a ferret. He had no chin–certainly not a strong one like Fritz had–and he managed to be both emaciated-looking and have a pronounced paunch on him at the same time. He was nearly bald, with just a fringe of dirty brown, laced with gray, hair around the rim. What he did have was a godawful long dong when it was in erection, as it was now.
Just how much ambition did Brian have? How anxious was he to move up quickly? What was he willing to do for this ambition?
There was no sign of a condom packet nearby, but lube no longer was needed. The movie star had fucked Brian raw, barebacking him, the first time the young man had experienced that. Whether or not he actually could feel the release of the man’s hot cum inside him, he fantasized that he did–and that the heavenly endowed Fritz could strongly fire off repeatedly. The movie star had said he needed to feel it flesh on flesh. Brian’s thought was that it would probably catch up with the arrogant man someday, but he said nothing. He didn’t say “no,” he wouldn’t do it without protection. He went with the moment.
“There, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Evans said, putting a hand on Brian’s knee to make the young man turn and look at him. Brian gave a little shudder.
“No, I suppose not,” he answered.
“We do what we have to do in this business,” Evans said.
“I suppose so.”
Brian’s acting coach had warned him that, at this stage, the agent was more important than the movie star. The moment had come. Evans wasn’t the hunk that Fritz was. What lengths would Brian go to to advance in the industry? Would he open his legs for Evans as he had for Fritz?
“It isn’t just the actors, like Fritz who have to be satisfied on the way up,” Evans said.
“No, I suppose not,” Brian murmured, knowing exactly where this was headed.
Evans reached over and ran a hand up Brian’s leg, along the inside seam. Brian gave a low moan and spread his legs. The hand glided up to under the young man’s balls. A finger pressed into his hole.
“Such a handsome, desirable young man,” Evans said. Brian shuddered again, but he held. He went further on his back, raising his pelvis to give Evans greater access under his tail, to his now-gaping hole. Evan’s entered him with two fingers and spread him more open. Brian gave a little moan.
“I want–”
“Yes,” Brian muttered with a moan.
Would Evans want it bareback too? No, he didn’t. He’d come prepared. He scrambled around in the pocket of his trousers and came up with a condom foil. He stood up from the bed and let his trousers and briefs slide to his ankles, while, capturing Brian’s eyes with his, he split the packet, extracted the disk, dropped the spent packet into an ashtray on the nightstand, and crowned himself. He made no effort to hide from Brian what he was doing or what that inevitably meant. Brian offered no opposition.
“You really are a handsome young man,” Evans murmured. “You could go far.”
“Whatever you want, Daddy,” Brian whispered.
“I’ll take good care of you,” Evans said.
“Yes, Daddy. Take good care of me.”
The agent leaned over, looking down into the young man’s eyes, and glided a hand down the smooth, lightly muscled chest, over the belly, and into Brian’s downy pubes. He laced Brian’s balls between his fingers and distended the balls, receiving a gasp and a low moan from the young man. He then pressed a thumb into the base of the young man’s cock, which engorged for him.
“We’ll go slower than Fritz did,” Evans said. “More pleasure for you.”
Brian moaned, opening his stance more to the man. “Do me. Screw me.”
“Yes. Say yes,” Evans said, his voice hoarse with lust. “I have to hear you say yes again–specifically for this.”
“Yes,” Brian whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Evans’s other hand moved between the young man’s thighs, fingers going to and moving inside the hole again that Fritz, thicker but not longer than the agent, had stretched open. Brian’s response was to dig his heels into the bottom edge of the mattress and raise his pelvis to give the man’s fingers deeper access.
“Yes. Oh, fuck yes.”
Evans gave a low, throaty laugh. “You know I totally made Ray Fritz what he is today. He was gangly and scrawny when he came to me, dragging in wet behind the ears, like a half-drowned cat. I’d invited him to come in after seeing him drunk and dancing a table at a party. All I wanted to do at first was lay him, and I did. But I found he did have charisma even then. He had bad teeth, no vocabulary at all. He was shy and uncertain of himself. He couldn’t act worth shit. He was your age–eighteen. That was eleven years ago. He had far less raw talent and beauty going for him than you already have now. I told him I’d make him a star if he put himself in my hands–and I did. It took six years, but he is what you see now, at the top of the game in the movies. He only had to give me one thing in return.”
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He paused, in case Brian wanted to ask the question. But Brian knew that answer. He lay there, entirely open and yielding to the talent agent, leveraging on his feet to rock on the fingers exploring inside him and to slide his cock through the loose sheath Evans was providing with the fingers of his other hand.
“You are already miles ahead of where Ray started,” Evans continued. “All I required him to do was to give himself to me totally–and to anyone else I gave him to–always to further his career. You already are beautiful and know how to act. I can make you a star–an even greater star than Ray Fritz is. Do you want me to make you a star too, Brian?”
“Yes, make me a star too,” Brian whispered.
“You will give me everything in return? Being a movie star means that much to you? The path to glory is a rocky one.”
“Yes, make me a star too,” Brian repeated.
Evans gave a low, growly laugh, came down on the bed, rolled over on top of the young man, between Brian’s spread thighs, mounted and penetrated him, and fucked the hell out of his new, willing, eighteen-year-old client. The first step on the path to glory. The agent takes the biggest cut.
Afterward, as Brian lay there, on his back, legs spread, and Evans sat on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette and gliding a hand over the younger man’s body, Evans said. “There’s an assistant producer on this movie set, Ward Barkley, who has a lot of clout.”
“Yes,” Brian said with a sigh, with both of them knowing what Ward Barkley wanted.
Evans laughed. “Yes, I think you’ll go far in this business, Brian.”