Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven...

It doesn’t take long for people to tire of porn these days. When I was twelve, I remember that I masturbated for an entire year to a two inch gift catalogue photograph of a nudie deck’s Jack of Spades. Now, at (a still very young looking, I hasten to add) twenty-five, I own 283 high definition DVDs of my various pleasures. I have ten videos just of cumshots involving cowboy hats. Four in my collection are about time travel (two have a main character named H.G. Wells, and I have to think, “how inaccurate”), one is an erotic retelling of Jekyll and Hyde and a shocking seven of them are about gay ghosts. Because this is the age of specificity and of outrageousness. If Oscar Wilde were alive today, he’d have taken up the quill to write, “Oh, dear. I don’t seem to have any money. I wonder how I’ll… pay you, for this pizza.”

But who the hell am I, right? Who the hell am I but some dude with a startling collection of pornography and an even more startling aptitude for categorizing it. If you must know (and since this is my story, you must), I’m the owner of, and director/star for, IntenCity Videos, which, if you have any knowledge on the subject you’ll know, has swept the Woody awards for six years running. I am, if you’ve been paying attention to Fleshbot (or Gawker or XY or Out or Advocate or Freshmen), Xander.

Ha, you’re thinking (and you have every right to be), that’s such bullshit. You’re right, of course, that no parent actually names a child Xander, or else we’d all be directing and starring in porn. My birth certificate reads that my name is Alex Psathas, and it will tell you, should you choose to check it, that I was born in Milwaukee to two Greek Orthodox parents named Barbara and Zoe. It would also tell you that, according to my date of birth, I lied to you in the preceding paragraphs, and am actually twenty-nine-years-and-seven-days old.

But enough about who I am, because there are conventions even when I am narrating, let us discuss how I look. My hair is short and spiky; it is naturally a very dark brown but has been outfitted with the most faintly detectible highlights a person can ever have. This compliments my eyes well, which are would be a simple brown but for their flecks what appears to be gold. My body has always been gorgeous, thin and well defined, but since the taking off of IntenCity and the subsequent arrival of my personal trainer, it has become something hewn from the living rock. Mine is the body that Bruce Wayne would have modeled his Batsuit on. My ass is made up of (and here I am holding off the hubris by simply quoting the Woody speech delivered by my first agent), “spheres so perfect they could be used to solve for Pi.” Couple that with my naturally tanned, completely smooth skin, and you’ve got Xander.

And, then, of course there is my dick, which is huge by anyone’s standards (though, I confess, not the biggest in the business). It is not, however, its size that gets me the most fan mail, but its shape, which is that of a perfect scepter. Mine does not curve in that visually unappealing way that some others’ do (I mention no names), but stands at attention at a precise forty five degree, eleven inch vector, thus allowing me to shove it deep into the throat of a fellow star, without discomfort to either of us as my deliciously hairless balls bang against his chin.

Six, five, four…

IntenCity, obviously, is not like other porn companies. There is something special about us that is easily seen in a sample video (available on our website or we can mail one to you for a small shipping and handling fee), and that makes us the best in the business. We believe in doing things that porn has never done before. We believe in production values.

Any idiot can put a barely-eighteen-year-old in a soccer uniform and then have him take it off in what is quite clearly a hotel bathroom. We at IntenCity, however, have a soundstage where we mimic exactly the fantasy we are shooting. Our actors are not just vehicles for penises and orifices; they act. We’ve built locker rooms accurate to the smallest detail; we’ve built entire mainstreets to colonial villages. Anything that we can do to provide you, the viewer, with a more accurate fantasy, we will do, and if we cannot produce it in a soundstage (as in our video “Into Tim Aire: Sex at 15,000 Feet”) we will go out and film in real life.

In short, I expect that, one day, our movies will be studied in a film appreciation class, as pieces of cinematic art, not just porn.

Three…

But after I fucked those three guys in a row on an actual World War II U-Boat (it was an amazing time had by all, if you haven’t picked it up yet. The change in pressure at that depth allowed our cocks to shoot buckets of gooey sperm all over my six-pack abs), even the most prominent porn studio in the gay world has run out of ideas. When you’ve already filmed the entire world, including construction sites, BMX racing tracks, heavyweight boxing competitions and a particle accelerator laboratory, there is, simply put, no Earthly way to reinvent sex.

Which is why I’m currently strapped into a rocket, about to be the first man to ever film sex in space.

Ridiculous, you’re saying. You’ve, perhaps, seen the prices of those trips in the Neiman Marcus Christmas catalogue and you’re trying to do the math in your head. How many videos could Xander possibly sell for this trip to be worth it in the end?

I will not lie to you by saying that I expect this video to be profitable in the short run, but in the long run, the world will know IntenCity in Space as the first zero-gravity porn. Vivid, Bel Ami, Falcon, no one will be able to compete with that. We will have boldly come where no man has come before.

Two…

There is no one who could possibly be more apt to be my side than Drake (fine, fine, Don, if you must know), who has been with me in the business from the first, and with whom I have been friends ever since we roomed together in acting school. The odds of the two most popular porn stars in the industry being friends from college (and roommates no less) may seem far flung, but you should understand that Drake was not always the second most attractive man in film.

Before I saw his amazingly thick and well formed (not quite as long as mine, but lovely none the less) cock when I walked in early from class one day to see him masturbating, and decided to take him under my wing, he was doughy and round. His nose, which, you’ll notice, is now petite and beautiful, the perfect contrast to my own more sharply angled nose, was once capable of holding a nickel in each nostril. His hair was always thick and luxurious, but he was using the wrong product, making it greasy. Now his hair has definition and volume. A person can run their fingers through it while kissing him passionately, or grip it in the fist like a handle while fucking his tight little hole. That’s the most wonderful thing about him: despite my prodigious size, and the fact that I have starred with him many times, Drake’s ass never gets that spent look that some other industry professionals get. His hole holds my cock tightly every time, and, on camera, it is everything I can do not to cum before the scene is over.

One…

Before the countdown had begun, as we were completing our pre-porn ritual of singing along to Turning Japanese (ladies and gentlemen… who am I kidding? Gentlemen, if I can impart just one thing to you, it is not to buy this latest IntenCity video, though at only $49.99 it will be money well spent) but it is this: beginning your day with a simple ritual like singing Turning Japanese to yourself or a loved one will make you happier and more successful than you can ever imagine), Drake looked over at me, as he often does, and squeezed my hand in his.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

Of course I was not, but I’ve known Drake long enough to say that I was.

“Me too,” he said.

People often ask if Drake and I are an item off screen as well as on. I smile, here, for the interviewers (some of whom I may fuck afterwards) and say that “nothing is official” in the way you tell someone “you’ll never guess what I got you for Christmas.” In truth, while we have remained best friends and likely always will, our lives are far too hectic to settle down with each other. I love him, but only like a brother. A brother I have sex with on camera.

Have we never gone out drinking and wound up in one or the other’s bed? Have we never stretched ourselves awake the next morning and, after a brief kiss, made pancakes together? Have I never wanted to slide myself inside his silky mouth or spread his ass apart with my tongue, not because we were being paid to, but because he was mine and I his? To these questions, I will have to simply smile and say that nothing is official yet.

…Blast Off!

Let no one tell you that hurtling through the atmosphere in a rocket, and feeling the force of five times the Earth’s gravity on your face, is a tranquil experience, but it is nothing so extreme that we, two healthy and fit young men, could not handle it.

Drake, once we have settled ourselves in to a low orbit, and we contentedly floating about the capsule, equates the feeling to our hour-long fuck scene in “Aeronuts 2: Pilot Tricks.”

“Like, remember where you hit the controls with your foot and you were pushed into me further than you had before?”

“Uh huh,” I grunt as I set up the camera to the Velcro strip on the wall.

“That’s what it felt like.”

“We should look into doing a landing video.” I hold my hands up, reading an imaginary marquee, ‘Using the force of gravity to give you the best fuck of your life.’ Now, you’ve got your script memorized?”

“Alex—“

“Xander.”

“Xander, I’ve been making these movies for seven years now, I know what I’m doing.”

“No, I know,” I had missed sensitive by just a smidge. ”It’s just, we’re in space and there’s no reshoots, and you know.”

“I know.”

In the film, we are astronauts sent to eliminate a creature who is threatening the destruction of the Earth. NASA does not know that we are lovers, they send us together only because we are the best of the best (well, in the film, someone is technically more qualified than Drake, but I fuck him so hard that he cannot walk, and Drake goes up by default). The creature is impervious, however, to the weapons we are sent to deliver him. In that moment, we realize that we are doomed and decide to go out in the throes of passion.

The creature, in our final action, sees our love for each other, and is convinced to spare our planet, where at least one loving couple still exists. It is Ed Woodsian in a way that I’m not thrilled with, but there are very few excuses to have two men fuck in space aside from aliens.

It is several takes before we get the intonation right for, “No! The weapons aren’t working!” and so by the time we actually get down to the sex I’m feeling more worked up than usual. Seeing Drake floating there in his space jumper doesn’t do anything to diminish my drives, either.

The second we finish the line, I tear off his clothes ferociously, ripping his shirt down the middle and exposing his nipples, like two pink kisses. I take one of them in my mouth pushing his weightless body into me. His uncut cock is already hard and edging its way out the top of his lycra briefs. He moans that soft moan that he does when I take him.

Drake pushes me back and moves himself down as I pull myself up. His lips find my dick and in a minute they are around it. Overcome by it, I grab hold of his hair and force myself all the way into him. He sputters for a second but then grabs hold on my ass with both hands and eats my rod gluttonously. His mouth feels amazing; his tongue works the head as his lips slide up and down the shaft, and then suddenly he takes the whole thing down his throat like the pro that he is, his tiny nose pressed tight against my taut belly. When it’s almost too much for me, I flip him around, and yank down his briefs, shoving my face into his ass as soon as it’s visible.

Typically, in a video we have to be careful to get the angles right, but this situation has us both turned on so much that the camera nearly disappears, and it is just us floating in the ether.

His ass is as tight as ever, and as I slip my tongue into his hole he utters his little moan again.

“Fuck,” I say, as I pull my head back to look at his gorgeous hole. “I can’t take this anymore.” I lick my hand and use it to wet my rod.

“Yeah!” He cries out, “Fuck me Xander. Fuck me.” His hand is on his own cock, beating savagely.

I don’t wait for him to say anything else, I am already pressing my dick into his ass. He moans again, and I push in deep. Too deep at first, and he whimpers, but I’m already in and thrusting.

“Yes! Oh, fuck me.” He has never been this vocal before, and I’m an animal, pounding his ass harder and faster with each new moan he gives out.

I rotate him around on my shaft without ever leaving his ass, so that his legs are on my shoulders and I’m grabbing his hair in huge clumps and forcing him down on my cock. My back hits the far wall and I don’t even think that I’m in the shot anymore and it doesn’t matter, because I have never wanted to fuck someone as long as hard as I am fucking Drake right now. His little moans grow in intensity until finally he makes a guttural noise that lets me know he’s coming.

I give him three more thrusts before I pull out as I’m shooting. His cock pulses just as mine does, and we both let out a long moan, mine low, his slightly higher, as we shoot jets of cum that meet in the air, and float off together as one while we kiss each other gently.

As we are cleaning everything off (the alien has gone back to his own planet. When our astronauts return, they will be heroes, and receive thanks from the president himself before they put their arms around each other and wink for the camera and that’s how you know that they’re in love), Drake moves himself over to me, and looks out a porthole.

“You don’t even realize how many stars there are until you get out here,” he says.

“Yeah.” And it’s true, the stars are beautiful. Constellations appear in the spots of light that you’ve never seen before. They make you think crazy things.

“Do you ever think that, like, there might actually be aliens out there? Like in the movies.”

“Well, if there are, I’d fuck you to save the world.” I’m laughing, but he isn’t.

“But, you know….”

I sigh loudly enough that he can hear me and ask him what he’s trying to say. I already know, of course, because I know the kind of conversation that we’re having. It’s always this way when someone wants to say something they’re afraid to.

“Well, would you do more than just fuck me?” he asks in the least subtle way possible.

I shrug as if I don’t know what he’s really saying and off a distracted, “I mean, I’d blow you too.”

And then almost before I’m finished speaking he says, “Would you love me?”

“Yeah, I guess if the world were at stake, I would. Sure.” And then, seeing the look on his face, I add, “It’s kind of a stupid movie to be talking about, though, really. I mean, if the sex in space wasn’t so damn hot, I wouldn’t dream of even making this.”

“Yeah, it is kind of a stupid movie,” he says. “And what a stupid alien, too, to be fooled.”

“I know,” I say with a laugh, “right?”

“I mean, what kind of an all powerful creature can’t tell the—” And then he interrupts himself, “Well, you get the point.”

I laugh halfheartedly, clean an errant bit of our semen off the back of my chair, and we strap ourselves in for the ride back. “Yeah,” I tell him, “I get the point.”

 

© 2007 Christopher O'Flaherty - Contributor's Bio