Pornstar

"Bring him in!"

Darrin had thought that after five amazing years in the business, he'd never tire of hearing those words.

Bring him in.

Truth is, those words now filled him with deep dread.

Absolute

deep dread.

"Otto! Come on! It's time!"

Darrin Mathews glared at his reflection in the make-up mirror and felt that he was staring into the eyes of a stranger. This was not a person he knew. This was a hollow shell; a glass container that had been drained of its contents and now sat bereft and empty.

Who am I?

"

Otto!

"

He stood with the weariness of an octogenarian and shuffled onto the set, ignoring the cursing director and the frantic production assistant that was seeking to rid him of his robe. Any other young, red-blooded gay man would kill to be him: the infamous Otto Bahn, the highest-paid porn star in the gay world. Right now, Darrin wanted nothing more than to go back to being a non-descript young, red-blooded gay man.

"What the fuck took you so long?"

He didn't respond to Jesus. The irascible director was running on three Red Bulls and chain-smoking Marlboros like a smokestack and Darrin knew that was bad. He let the robe fall from his well-muscled shoulders and strode over to the bed, where his scene partner, Bert Reddy, lounged.

"All right. Let's get started."

Bert held his hand out and Darrin clasped it briefly. "Wow, it's such an honor to work with you, Mr. Bahn."

"You can call me Otto, kid. How old are you?"

"Eighteen." The red-haired young man laughed shakily. "This is my first scene."

Oh, great!

Darrin rubbed his forehead, wincing at imaginary pain. A newbie. Just what he didn't want to hear. "You'll be all right, kid." He pulled the young man to his feet. "Just don't pop off too quickly."

"Yes, sir."

"And pretend that you're in love with me."

"That won't be a problem, sir."

Again, Darrin grimaced. This kid was in love with Otto Bahn, not Darrin Mathews. Of course, it wasn't the kid's fault. He had worked long and hard to make sure that every guy fell in love with Otto. Otto was a Hitler youth type: flaxen-haired and blue-eyed. And with ruddy cheeks and a well-defined body that defied nature, Otto was gay perfection.

"Good. It'll make the scene great." Jesus moved around the twosome, barking directions to his staff and changing gels on the lamps. The kid shifted nervously, light bumps of sweat breaking out on his upper lip. "Don't be nervous. You'll be all right."

"Okay, Otto. We're ready."

Darrin closed his eyes and mentally stepped into Otto Bahn's enormous shoes. When he reopened his eyes, he didn't see a nervous kid, he saw a desirable young man and licked his lips, wondering if he was a natural redhead. If the kid noticed the change, he didn't react. He stood frozen, deer in the klieg lights, quivering at the beautiful man that he was lucky enough to make it with.

"It's just us, Bert." He whispered the words that had become a mantra into the young man's ears, pulling him close in a calming embrace. "No one else exists." He felt Bert's body relax a bit. "You believe me, Bert?"

"Yes."

"And you love me, Bert?"

"Oh, yes, Otto." He felt Bert's bulge grow steadily and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Then let's make love."

Darrin didn't hear Jesus' command to begin the action but Otto Bahn did. He knew what the scene required and he knew how to make it work. He watched as the lights dimmed and Bert climbed into the bed, pretending to sleep, waiting for the Fuck Fairy to visit him.

"Awaken, sleeping one."

Bert's bright green eyes opened and met Otto's piercing blue ones. He grabbed the edge of the sheet, pulling it up to his chin and acting as if he was frightened. "Who – who are you?"

"You know who I am." Otto leaned close to Bert, his voice deep and velvety as his hand slid underneath the young man's pillow. "You left this for me, didn't you?"

Bert looked down into Otto's hand and saw the wrapped condom. "Yes."

"Then you called the Fuck Fairy. That's me and I'm here to fuck you."

Otto leaned in again, this time, letting his mouth connect with Bert's. His thick tongue slid into the young man's mouth, exploring and ravaging, robbing Bert of his breath and making a deep tremble snake through him. His wandering hands slid gently over the sheet, finding Bert's cock and stroking it deftly.

"Oh, yes." Bert moaned against his mouth, relinquishing his control and letting himself become the Fuck Fairy's toy. "My wish has come true."

* * * * *

The scene was done.

Otto Bahn stood over Bert Reddy, the Fuck Fairy's nine-inch magic wand spurting cream onto the kid's red hair and into his mouth. Jesus was hysterical with joy as he watched the money shot on three separate monitors and hugged Darrin's sweaty body as soon as he yelled

Cut!

"That was fucking fantastic!"

Darrin looked down into Bert's glazed eyes and saw a sexy grin slowly stretch from ear-to-ear. "Wow! That was great!"

"I told you that it would be okay."

Bert leaped up, the silly shit-eating grin still plastered across his cum-covered face and flung himself into Darrin's arms. "I love you, Otto!"

"Yeah, well ... " Darrin peeled the young man off. "Congratulations. You'll be a big hit now."

He did his usual thing after a scene. He took a long shower, scrubbing himself thoroughly, dressed in his street clothes and headed to Longo's, the local gay watering hole. He wanted to distance himself from the studio and from his alter ego, Otto, but Longo's was no place to go for that. Despite the regularity of his visits, he was practically swarmed when he entered the dark bar.

"Hey, Otto! Let's see your dick!"

"I want to fuck you, Otto!"

"Hey, Otto! Can you come to a party I'm having tomorrow night? I want you to be my party favor!"

"My name's not Otto!"

He couldn't help it. The bar went silent, all eyes turned to the sound of his shout. The fans just glared at him incredulously. The great Otto Bahn was rejecting his fans? Suddenly, it all overwhelmed Darrin and he bolted from the bar, running, not really caring where his feet took him, only that he went as far from his alter ego as possible.

It was more than an hour later when he found himself on the bridge, tears staining his handsome cheeks. The muddy waters churning below called to him with a rhythmic lullaby of sleep and death, of escape and release. It would only take a few steps, a climb over the wrought-iron safety fence and then ... sweet oblivion. With one leap, Otto Bahn would be gone forever.

Tears blurred his eyes as he took a few tentative steps forward and gripped the chilly rail, hypnotized by the roar of the rushing water.

Just a bit more ...

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Darrin just glared at the young man who had suddenly appeared at his side. He was a few inches shorter with black, curly hair and spiky lashes that covered chocolate-brown eyes. He must have been jogging. The hair at the nape of his neck was wet and his mustache clung to the upper lip of a pouting cupid's bow. Bright blue spandex shorts clung to his hard thighs and a long-sleeved red shirt delineated his cut torso, damp half-circles under his armpits showing his previous exertion. "What?"

"The river. It's beautiful."

Darrin looked down and only saw a wide rivulet of dirty brown water. "It's dirty."

"Yeah, but it's still beautiful." He turned with a bright smile. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, you know?" Darrin shook his head, his empty gaze swinging back to the water. He'd had enough of beauty. Enough of Otto Bahn. "Say, you look familiar." He closed his eyes, tears threatening to squeeze from his eyes. "You're Darrin Mathews, aren't you?"

He jerked his head around and stared at the man. "You ... you know who I am?"

"Yeah! I went to school with you and Mickie." A brilliant smile accompanied a sweat-greased palm. "I'm Spencer Carlson."

Darrin picked his memory for a few quick seconds and remembered the guy he knew as Dense Spence from high school. He'd had graduated with his twin sister, Michelle and himself and last he'd heard, Spencer was living in Seattle, working in the prosecutor's office. "Wow, Spencer Carlson! It's been a long time."

"Sure has." Spencer looked Darrin up and down, desperately trying to ignore his twitching cock. There was no other way to describe Darrin except that he was absolutely delicious.

"What are you doing back here?"

"The reunion, of course." Darrin shook his head. He remembered Mickie saying something about it. "Planning on going?"

"Naw. Don't want to embarrass Mickie."

"I didn't think there was anything that could embarrass that girl!" Spencer laughed heartily.

Darrin was surprised to find himself grinning, despite his previous mood. Mickie was his twin but they were very different. Where he was mostly shy, she was boisterous. Where he was cautious, she was exuberant. She loved to be the life of the party and would strip at the drop of a hat. "Probably not."

"Well, I've got to get going." Spencer cast one last glance over the railing and started to jog in place. "I'm staying at the Wilshire. Room 809. Drop by for drinks tomorrow."

"Sure, Spence."

Spencer Carlson jogged off, turning a few yards away to look back at the melancholy figure on the bridge. Something was off about Darrin Mathews. Something that made him extremely uncomfortable with leaving him on that bridge and Spencer never ignored his instincts. He turned around, breathing heavily and returned to Darrin's side.

"Do you have a car nearby?"

"No. I left it at the ... " Darrin cringed at the thought. He'd left his car at the studio. Spencer would probably want to know what he did at the studio. "I left it at the gas station. It had a flat."

"Oh. Hold on a minute." Spencer jogged to the end of the bridge and raised his arm to hail a cab. It took a few long minutes but a yellow Chevy pulled over and he slid into the back seat. "Come on!"

Darrin lifted his head. "What?"

"Come on!"

Spencer watched Darrin wrestle with his indecision and even though he didn't know why, he waved at him a third time. Maybe it was the combination of the haunted look that Spencer was sure went down to the depths of Darrin's soul or the way his body was reacting to his pure physicality but he didn't want to let Darrin Mathews go just yet.

Darrin bade a mental farewell to the water and turned towards Spencer.

The bridge will be here tomorrow.

Spencer Carlson wouldn't.