Page 16 of Sebastian

Some of it is standard stuff I’ve come across in my studio days: a general consent form, a basic talent information form, and an STI testing form. The contract is impressively long, with sections I’ve literally never heard of and, to be honest, don’t quite understand. Then there’s the hard and soft limits form, a content usage guide, and the marketing plan that Sebastian mentioned during dinner. He even sent over his most recent STI screening results, dated last week, and a signed statement that he’s on PrEP. I don’t remember seeing half this stuff back then.

Do I really want to do this?

It’s not the paperwork—scribbling my signature on the dotted line is the easy part. It’s everything that comes after. Putting myself on display, living up to public expectations, chasing the high of external validation…

I push my laptop away and wander into the kitchen for a beer.

Am I getting too caught up in the allure of Sebastian to think clearly? Sitting across the table from him, listening to him talk about his work, it was so easy to get swept up in the excitement of it all. The rush from releasing a new video, and the exhilaration when fans love it. Being wanted, adored, admired. It’s a heady feeling that defined so much of my life.

My porn star years were everything you would’ve expected them to be. Big paychecks. Expensive clothes. Luxurious gifts from random strangers. I got flown all around the world in first class. Posed for photo shoots in the most beautiful locations. Fucked super hot guys. Indulged in all the drugs and alcohol my body could handle.

It had been great until it wasn’t. Until I couldn’t remember what city I was in when I woke up in the morning. Until entire days and weeks went by in a blur because I was getting pulled in so many directions I couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. Until the very thought of sex made me sick to my stomach.

It was a whirlwind existence that sucked me up and spat me out. I never knew fun could be so stressful. Then one day, I was in an elevator going up to some rooftop party and something snapped in me. I didn’t want to be at the party. I hadn’t wanted to do the hundreds of things I’d been told to do over those last few months. So why the fuck was I doing them? No one was forcing me. No one had a gun to my head or was holding my firstborn child hostage.

In hindsight, I should have left way earlier. If I’m honest, it was a miracle I managed to step away when I did. Giving up the glitz and glamor of that lifestyle was one of the easiest and hardest things I’ve ever done. The second I decided I was done, a weight lifted off my shoulders and I could finally breathe again. Then five seconds later, I was clamoring for that drug of fame, recognition, and relevance.

Some people might say it’s that weird thing that happens when fame gets to someone’s head. I don’t know if that’s what it was. I only know it took me almost two years to feel like I was a normal person again—and most importantly, be okay with being just another guy on the street.

I stare at my laptop. What the hell am I thinking? After all the effort I put into getting away from that life, why am I even considering jumping back in? I mean, if I want to fuck Sebastian, I’m pretty sure I can convince him to have a fling. We don’t need to have cameras there to have sex.

And yet…

I pull up Sebastian’s OnlyFans page. There’s one video that I’ve watched a few times now, a “collab” Sebastian did with some guy called Noel. They look like they’re friends. Noel teases Sebastian a lot and Sebastian rolls his eyes like he’s annoyed and amused at the same time. The level of comfort between them is enticing, enchanting.

The video isn’t one of those big studio productions I’m used to. The quality’s still there though—good lighting, good angles, decent enough sound to pick out what they’re saying to each other. It’s intimate and unassuming. It feels like I’m sitting in the room with them, that I could stand up at any moment and join them.

Sebastian gives Noel a blowjob and he looks exquisite while he’s at it. His lips are stretched thin. He’s got spittle running down his chin. He’s looking up at Noel with a mix of affection and sass.

That’s not the way he looked at me over dinner. His gaze was more heated then, more intense, like our attraction is a simmer on the cusp of a boil. If that were me with my cock in Sebastian’s mouth, he wouldn’t be looking at me with affection and sass. He’d be looking at me with desperation, hunger, need.

My hand drifts to my thickening cock and I grip it through the soft fabric of my sweats. On the screen, Sebastian is on all fours in the middle of the bed. He’s angled so the camera can capture the way his back bends and his body arches. He rests his cheek on a pillow and reaches back to pull his ass wide open.

The video cuts to something handheld and we’re treated to a close-up of Sebastian’s hole. It’s twitching in anticipation. A hand appears—Noel’s—and he pushes a finger into Sebastian’s body.

“Oh, fuck,” one of them mutters on the screen. Noel sinks his finger all the way down to the knuckle with zero resistance. Then he does it again with two. Sebastian’s hole stretches easily.

The mic on the handheld camera picks up the squelching sound of Noel’s fingers as he pumps them in and out of Sebastian’s ass. It’s raw, unfiltered, obscene. It makes me wish that it were my fingers in Sebastian’s body, not Noel’s. It makes me wish that other people were as jealous of me as I am of Noel right now.

I reach into my sweats and pull out my cock. I’m leaking pre-cum, enough that I can probably jerk myself off without adding lube.

“Fuck me already,” Sebastian says in the video. Noel extracts his fingers and lines up his dick. He’s not wearing a condom and the camera captures every second of Noel sliding into Sebastian. The initial resistance, the way Sebastian’s hole expands, the way it contracts to suck Noel’s cock in. The camera sees every inch of hard flesh, every ridge and vein as they disappear past that ring of muscle.

When Noel bottoms out, my eyes drift shut. I imagine it’s my cock in Sebastian’s ass. I imagine it’s me fucking him bareback. It’s me slamming into him, my hips slapping against the back of his thighs. I’m the one wringing those sounds of pleasure from Sebastian’s mouth. I’m the one wrecking him, making him come apart.

“Fuck. Yeah, like that. Oh fuck. Right there. Fuck.” Sebastian’s voice comes through the speakers like he’s speaking directly to me. My hand grips tight around my dick as I pump into it with Sebastian’s encouragements ringing in my ears. The base of my spine tingles. My balls draw up.

On the screen, Noel pulls out and comes all over Sebastian’s ass. Creamy white cum paints Sebastian’s skin and holy fucking hell, I want it to be my cum. I want it so badly that my dick explodes like it’s trying to do just that. Like if I orgasm hard enough, my cum can somehow transcend space and time and end up on Sebastian’s body. It’s still pulsing even after my balls are empty, even after my skin has gotten too sensitive to touch.

Goddamn, I haven’t come this hard in ages, not even during the last time I watched this video. My hand is covered in cum. My shirt is splattered with it.

The sound of cries draws my attention back to the video. Noel’s got his lips wrapped around Sebastian’s cock now, his head bobbing up and down in a loud and messy blowjob. Sebastian gives Noel a warning right before he comes on Noel’s tongue. Then Noel crawls up Sebastian’s body and feeds his cum back to him.

They kiss each other. Sebastian giggles and Noel smirks. They both turn to the camera and smile at it. It feels like they’re asking if I had as much fun as they did. I want to hit replay and watch the video all over again.

I drop my head back on the couch cushions. “Fuck,” I mutter.

It isn’t just the sex. It’s this—the nebulous thing between them on one side of the screen and me on the other, the way they seem to reach through the camera and connect with the viewer. This is hot as hell. This is something I don’t think I’ve ever experienced when working with the studios. It sounds silly, but it feels like art.

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