A Tale of Two Counties - 1. Selected for Stardom

The middle of this story comes first.

It's a shame you can't see that picture of us that I keep on top of the little chest of drawers by the side of my bed. That way it is the last thing I see when I get into bed at night and the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning. That only applies though if I'm here on my own, which doesn't happen very often these days.

It's a picture of us - me and Ken or Kenny or sometimes even Kent, and it was the first one ever taken of the pair of us together. I’m on the right by the way and my name’s Devon. I’ve got no idea why my parents decided to call me Devon – especially as we lived in Cornwall, but that’s parents for you. You don’t get to pick them but they get to pick your name. Mind you I’m not complaining too much as it is pretty different to some of the common ones nowadays. I ask you, who’d want to be called Jake, or Josh even – call either of those names out in a crowded room and I bet at least half a dozen kids would respond. Now I'm at uni I go by the name of Dev as Devon sound so posh and stuck up. Had to be Devon while I lived at home of course, but now I'm free to choose. Sometimes though if he wants to get me started, or if he thinks I'm acting posh, Ken will call me Devon. I let him get away with that a few times until I had the idea of calling him Kent in retaliation. He didn't like that – said it sounded far too posh for a boy from Lewisham! So, most times when we use a name it's Ken for him and Dev for me.

I suppose I ought to start by telling you how that picture of the pair of us in St. James’ Park in London came to be taken. It is St James’ Park as you can just see the tower of Westminster Abbey in the background. Of course to start there would be starting midway through the story, but I reckon it makes sense to begin there and then perhaps go back to the beginning. Mind you, knowing the way I ramble I’ll probably go back to the beginning even before I’ve finished telling you the middle bit!

And I guess in some ways I’ve got to start at the beginning in order to explain how we met in the first place. Well, we’re both first year students at Sussex University. I’m studying for a degree in Economics and Finance while Ken is doing Economics and Politics. We’re both living on the campus – it isn’t cheap but the flats aren’t bad and they are very handy for the classes. My flat has got its own bathroom which of course makes it a good bit more costly, but luckily my parents are pretty loaded so Dad can afford it. Ken, poor sod has to share a bathroom which means when we are sleeping together (more often than not) we do so at my flat rather than his.

Like I said I come from Cornwall, actually just outside Truro where Dad runs his printing business. Ken though comes from south east London. It’s a bit of a laugh to hear the two of us talking as he sounds real London whereas I talk a bit on the posh side – although I try hard to disguise it these days. Anyway, I’d only been to London a couple of times, once on a school trip to go to the theatre and once with my parents for a weekend when I was about ten or eleven. Thus I don’t know the place really, but Ken living only a few miles from the centre of the city knew it very well. We’d been up there on a couple of occasions before this as it is very easy to get to. There’s a good bus service from the Uni to Brighton station and a really good train service from Brighton to Victoria which doesn’t take much more than an hour. It’s also fairly cheap with the old student railcard.

This time though it was April as you can tell from the trees being in leaf and the fading late daffodils. It was also a pretty warm day. Exactly why we went into St James’ Park is even now a bit of a mystery but Kenny was showing me the sights so I was more or less following him around without questioning where we were headed. Wait a minute, I’ve just remembered, it was because he wanted to show me these bleeding pelicans! Apparently they are a special feature there and when he was a little kid his gran used to take him up there on the bus from where they lived as they are fed at set times of the day. Flipping heck, great big white things with enormous yellow beaks in which they stuff fish by the tonne I reckon, based on what we saw.

After we’d finished watching that we walked over to this little café – the one you can see in the background. Kenny bought a bottle of some orange drink and I got a can of something. We’d just walked along a bit when this guy came up to us and asked if we’d like to have our picture taken. Of course we both had our phones but this guy had a really swish one, plus which he was a bit of a good looker. I reckon he was about mid-20s, but he was tall and slim with dark hair, blue eyes, a great tan and a really nice smile. We agreed and leaned up against the rail as you can see. He took a few pictures and then asked if we’d like him to send them to us. That seemed the logical thing as I didn’t think they’d mean anything to him so I gave him my number and he fired them over to me. Once I’d confirmed I’d got them and thanked him, that was when things got interesting…….

“Would you boys like to earn some money?” he asked.

“What you think we are – fucking rent boys?” Kenny spat back at him before I could even think of a response.

He looked shocked by the tone of Kenny’s reply. He raised both hands as a sort of apology before speaking again.

“I am sorry. I did not say that right. You see English is not my first language and sometimes the words I use may be right, but not how they sound perhaps. Can I try and explain?”

Ken seemed a bit mollified by his reply and nodded his assent and on seeing that the guy continued.

“My name is Pavel and I come from Prague in Czech Republic. I may have got wrong impression, but I think you two are friends?”

“Yeah.” Ken said.

“Good friends too, I think.” Pavel said with a smile.

“What gives you that idea?” I asked.

“I have been watching you for a good time. I do not offer to take pictures of everyone, only certain boys.”

Ken and I exchanged glances on his use of the word boys.

“I noticed you holding hands and I saw you” pointing at me, “with one hand in the back pocket of his jeans while your other hand was in the side pocket of your own. Normal friends do not walk around like that. Nor do they kiss each other like you did while you thought everyone else was watching those big birds being fed.”

As he was saying that I thought to myself that the black nail varnish I had on my finger nails was also probably a bit of a giveaway…..

“So, you sussed out we’re gay and proud. What’s it to you?” Kenny asked.

“Oh dear. I am not explaining very well. Look, there is a bench free over there. Let us go and sit down and while we walk there I can try to find the right words to explain.”

Ken and I exchanged glances again.

“We’re not in a rush are we and he did mention money.” Ken said. “I’m always skint, so what say we give him five minutes.”

I agreed and we walked over to the bench. Pavel sat down between us and once we’d settled he started talking again.

“I just realised, you know my name but I not know yours.”

So we introduced ourselves and he made a point of shaking hands with both of us. I assumed this was some sort of continental politeness. He was smartly dressed in a casual way with what were obviously expensive trainers, designer jeans and a decent open necked shirt underneath his jacket.

“I try again to explain why I asked if you want to earn money. I work for a little firm in Prague that makes videos.”

“You mean porn videos.” Ken interrupted.

“You could call them that but we prefer to call them gay entertainment videos. We can find plenty of young boys from Czech Republic or Russia who are happy to appear, but not many of them can speak any English, or if they can it is not good English. We have big market for our films in countries where English is understood so we have come over here for a few weeks to find new talents. I think you would look good on film.”

“Hold on,” I said, “we’re at uni in Brighton; we can’t go over to Prague to make films – even if we wanted to.”

“No, Prague not necessary. We have set up little studio in London for a month; filming done there.”

Because he was sat between us it was difficult for me and Ken to say anything to each other, so there was a silence while we digested what he’d said. My mind was pretty blown away at the thought of being filmed while Ken and I were – well doing what Ken and I spent a lot of time doing together! My prick though had definitely got hard at the thought. Having sex with Kent and being paid for it – wow! That was a turn on, although whether I could do it with an audience was another matter.

“I have idea.” Pavel said. “I know you want time to think and talk about this, but we are filming today. I can take you to studio so you can see set up. Then you can go home and talk together. Then you call me and let me know if you want to do film. But it will have to be next weekend as that is our last one here. If you agree we pay for you to stay in good hotel on Friday night; we film on Saturday; you stay in hotel again Saturday night in case we also need to film on Sunday. How does that sound?”

“But you also pay us for the filming as well as the hotel?” Ken asked

“Of course.”

“How much?”

“Why not you come to studio now, then if you still interested we talk money for film. Maybe if you come we do little screen test to see how you look on film – and we pay you for that.”

“Screen test? So we have to suck or fuck today?” Ken believed in being direct!

“No, no. Just talk to camera, maybe take off shirts; maybe kiss a little, but no sex.”

“What do we get paid for that? We need to know that before agreeing to come with you. And how long is it going to take? We have things we want to do today.” I said, trying to be practical here as well as perhaps get the price up.

“Studio is in Canary Wharf.” Pavel answered. “So perhaps half an hour on underground; maybe an hour there at most and half an hour to get back, so two hours total. I offer you…….” he paused as if working out a figure, although I was pretty confident he had one in mind, “fifty pounds.”

“Each?” I asked.

To give Pavel his due he put on a good expression of shock on hearing that, before a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

Looking at me he replied, “You should have a good career in business when you leave your university. You already know how to drive a hard bargain. Because we are short of time to find any other stars and as I think you will do good job on film, I agree. Do you want few minutes to talk over?”

We said we did and Pavel got up saying he would go for a short walk and be back in about five minutes. As soon as he was out of earshot, Kent moved up to sit next to me, put his hand on my thigh and said,

“Do you fancy giving it a go, Dev? We’ve got nothing to lose by going and having a look except a couple of hours for which we’ll get well paid.”

“Thanks to my negotiating skills.” I replied.

“Yeah, well, I was gonna ask for more than that.” Kent answered as his hand moved up my thigh.

“Bullshitter! I’m happy to go there today and see their set up. I can’t see we’re likely to be kidnapped or gang raped or anything, but I suppose that’s possible. I think we should ask him for the address and tell him we are texting that to a friend, just as a precaution even if I only text it to you. Deciding about doing a film isn’t going to be so simple.”

“Okay, that makes good sense. But I think we could make good money here if he’s offering us £50 each just to go there. It’s alright for you with your rich parents, but I’m hardly surviving on my grant and am going to have to get a job I reckon. Doing this could mean I don’t need a job – and that gives us more time together.”

As he said that his hand pressed down on my cock and gave it a good rub. I seemed to spend all my life when around Kent in a state of semi hardness and it never took much to bring it harder.

When Pavel returned we told him we’d agreed to go with him and as promised about half an hour later we entered this building in Canary Wharf, the address of which he’d told us before we set off and I’d made a show of texting to a friend. Ken had put his phone on silent mode beforehand so Pavel wouldn’t hear it ring when I pressed send.

The building was actually a block of flats and they had taken over one for their purposes. When we entered we found ourselves in a largish room which was clearly the normal living area and furnished accordingly. Pavel asked if we wanted anything to drink and when we asked for cokes he went off into what was evidently the kitchen to get them. There was another door at the side of the room and after a few minutes a couple of guys about the same age as Pavel came through it. He introduced us to Tibor who apparently was the man in overall charge and Igor who turned out to be the main cameraman. Pavel brought them drinks and we spent some time talking with them asking us questions about our lives and how we’d come to meet and us asking them about how they’d got into this business and why they’d come to London instead of staying in Prague.

Then we got to the crunch – they wanted to see how we looked on film. They led us out of that room into a hallway off which were three further doors. One we were told was the bathroom if we wanted to use it and then they opened the doors of the other two rooms. The first of these was basically a bedroom with a double bed and the usual bedroom furnishings while the other was set up as a sort of living room with a settee and a couple of armchairs, a table and other bits and pieces.

Igor said that for this it would be best if we just sat on the settee and talked to the camera with perhaps him asking the same questions as he’d asked in the other room. Of course it we came back to make a film then the bedroom would be the one in use. So we sat down and at first it was all horribly stilted and unnatural as we were both feeling uncomfortable sitting there with the camera running. Igor kept on assuring us this was only natural and that if we did agree to make the film he knew we’d have the same problem, but even worse in all probability. I suppose we’d been there for about ten minutes before I started to relax a bit. We had been sitting there slightly apart until I moved to close that gap and put my arm round Ken’s shoulders. He felt all tense, but then suddenly as if a button had been pushed, he relaxed, turned his head and pulled me into a kiss. Within seconds our hands were roaming across each other’s bodies up under our sweat shirts which were soon pulled over our respective heads. Ken pushed me down onto the settee and went to work in terms of stroking my chest, teasing my nipples and all the time pushing his tongue down my throat. I was stroking his chest at the same time. He finally broke from our kiss and started to lick and kiss his way down my chest until he arrived at my navel. After that he started to lick lower down towards the waistband of my jeans, inside which my cock felt like a steel rod. He undid my belt and then the top button of my jeans, pulled the zip down an inch, stopped, turned to Igor and said,

“Do we pass the screen test?”

Igor chuckled and said, “You don’t want to go further? I think Devon wants you to.”

He was bleeding right there. But Ken had proved one thing to me; while he’d been attending to me I’d totally forgotten about the camera and the audience. I was pretty confident we could do it, although I realised there was quite a difference between what we’d just done and getting totally naked and having sex.

“I think that little show was worth your hundred pounds. Do you want us and what’s the offer?”

We both sat up on the settee and joined hands with Ken giving me a final kiss.

“I think you could be an interesting pair on film. What we pay depends on what you are willing to do – and how long you can make it last. We would like to have at least thirty minutes of film and maybe as much as an hour. You could probably make half an hour with just blow jobs, but for longer someone needs to be fucked. Which one is the bottom?”

“He is most of the time, but I enjoy it the other way sometimes.” Ken said. “What if we agreed before we started that we’d do blow jobs on each other and if we were in the mood and enjoying it and you were happy with the results, we’d take it further?”

“That sounds interesting.” Igor replied. “I think we could agree on that basis.”

And then we discussed the price. I’m not going to tell you what figure (or figures) we settled on but Ken and I both thought we’d got a pretty good deal for doing something we enjoyed and happily did for free. All that was left was for us to decide if we actually wanted to be porn stars and come back the following weekend.

We talked it over as soon as we’d left the flat and went for a walk round the Canary Wharf area before heading back on the DLR into central London. In all honesty there wasn’t a lot to discuss as the money we were being offered even just for doing blow jobs on each other was (sorry about this) pretty mind blowing. As we were both over eighteen there were no legal worries about us being engaged in underage sex. The only real worries we had were that in some ways the film could come back and haunt us in the future. I did wonder about the possibility of my parents not actually seeing it, but perhaps being told about it by someone they knew, but that seemed highly unlikely. Ken lived with him Mum and had no real contact with his Dad. As far as he was concerned he couldn’t think of any way in which his Mum could ever see or find out about it. He also was confident that if she did, as she knew he was gay, she wouldn’t be bothered anyway. If anyone found out about it at Uni, we couldn’t see that it would lead to us being thrown out – indeed if some of the gay community there or in Brighton itself saw it, we’d probably be raised to star status. So that only left the longer term future when we’d left Uni and was either looking for, or actually in, a job. I pointed out to Ken that situation wouldn’t arise for another three years or so and by that time we’d almost certainly look rather different to how we appeared on screen. For a start my blond hair came out of a bottle as I was naturally a mousey brown and it would certainly be in a different style. As for Ken his hair was currently shaved almost to the scalp, but he’d look vastly different with a normal growth on top of his head. Plus which I think our general appearance would have altered somewhat in that period and finally in normal life we’d be dressed rather differently to how we would be in the film – although we were sure anyone watching the film wouldn’t take a lot of notice of what we were wearing at the start. Igor had asked that if we did decide to go ahead with the filming we return wearing the same clothes as today. I guessed he might want to add some of what had been filmed today as a taster or even use it as a trailer.

I reckon we’d both decided to go ahead even before we got back to central London, but when Kent asked me the question I told him to wait a while before calling Pavel so we didn’t appear too keen. I wasn’t expecting that by playing hard to get they’d raise the money on offer, but it just didn’t seem right to say ‘yes’ straight away. Consequently it wasn’t until we got to Victoria station and we were waiting to catch a train back to Brighton that Ken called him. Pavel told him that he would call back during the week to let him know the name and location of the hotel we’d be staying in – and that was it. We were set for film stardom!

I guess though that before telling you about the filming I ought to go back to the beginning and explain how Ken and I met and got together.

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