Not Just a Pretty Face
#50 of Confessions of a Gay Porn Star
NOT JUST A PRETTY FACE
*
Now, I'm not usually a nervous man, lol, but when I used my padprint to get into the apartment, I felt genuine...what's the nice word...yeah...trepidation? Yeah, scared shitless or something, or worried, or whatever. It was not a feeling I associated with home, no, never, really. It had always been my safe place away from all kinds of shit that was giving me trouble, but right then I actually felt nervous to step inside that place.
But I had to. It was my home, after all, lol. I lived there. Food lived there!
Kurt was on the couch and reading one of his newspapers on his tablet, I presumed, as I sighted him when I entered. He glanced over to me and I saw his face in the glow of his screen held in his paw. He quickly turned back to look onto it again. My heart sank a little bit more towards my fluttery belly.
"Hey!" I called out, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
"Hello," his voice was soft.
Well...Kurt was rather...curt.
"Good day?" I asked, still near the door.
"It's been okay," he said.
"Is there any dinner?" I asked.
"I had a shake, sorry, I wasn't really hungry."
So he hadn't even made any dinner. Maybe he'd either been too upset to eat, or he was just being passive aggressive and was denying me food by not having any himself, either.
"Oh, okay," I made amends. "There was catering."
And it was rather good, snack food, of course, but it kept you going, and it was free.
He didn't react to that, not visibly. I decided to give him some time and space and kept my distance, physically, too, by going to the kitchen side of the living area. I wanted to get something to drink from the fridge.
"Busy day?"
"Not really," he said.
I opened the fridge and chose a can of Sprite Hyper.
"Guess that's good," I said," I feel kinda tired."
"Hmmmm."
I suddenly felt angry. He really shouldn't be acting like this. I thought we'd talked this through. We already argued, there was no need for anything more now. It was over and done with.
"I got the money," I said while enjoying my drink behind the kitchen island, "I put it in the household account."
"I don't care about the money," he said without looking back to me. "Keep it if you want."
That made me bristle.
Did he really think I'd done it for reasons other than the money? That was five grand, that was much more than I could usually contribute to our monthly budget, much, much more? Did he think I had done it just to get off? To have some no strings attacked bareback cum fest drugged-up porn sex with porn stars while I was at it? Did he really think I was that shallow?
"It's our money," I said, "it's for us, to use in whatever we need. I could even put it to your account if you like. It's yours too."
"I don't want it," he said.
I growled. That made his ears flick, a natural reaction to such a threatening noise coming from me. I put my soda can down and wiped my muzzle.
"You know, I know you're pissed off about it, but I really did it because it was a chance for me to do something for us for once," I said, "I know I don't bring in as much money as you do - "
"We could live off my money easily," he said.
I snorted.
"I know that too well," I said, "that's why I have to earn my own money. I can't just sit around here all day. I'd go stir crazy and you'd start to hate me sooner or later because I'd become insufferable if I just sat around rolling my thumbs."
I circled the counter and stood next to the couch, which meant that if he wanted to look at me, he'd have to do it up to me, to really face me. I'd let him do that if he wanted. When he wanted.
"And I know I really can't do much because of how I spent the first 20 years of my adult life, but I'm doing the best I can now," I said. "I'm trying real hard."
He was still staring at the screen, but I was pretty sure he wasn't really reading.
"I'm sorry you're upset about it," I said, "but it's over now. I doubt they'll ask me to come back for more."
"And if they do?"
My tail made an uncomfortable shuffle behind me. I scratched my muzzle.
"I doubt it. But whatever they say, I'm only ever going to do solo work again."
He snorted.
"So it's an option now?"
"If once in a blue moon someone offers me thousands of dollars for shaking my cock and ass at the camera and nothing more, I'm not going to say no," I said.
"Right."
"You think I'd just do it to get laid?"
"I didn't say that," he replied. "I just know that you like it for other reasons than the money, too. You said so yourself."
That thing again.
"I don't deny that I get off on it, no," I said, "how could I? I told you as much."
"So you'd do it for that, too."
"Not just for that," I said, "I wouldn't do it for a hundred bucks just so that I could get guys to stare at my junk and ooh and aaah over it!"
The sick thing was, at one point, I would have done it for that, oh yes. That's why I felt as bad as I did right now.
"Kurt, I've put that life behind me, "I said, "I don't want to be in that lifestyle anymore. It's not good for me or anyone else."
I sat heavily onto the couch, with a sigh, and looked at him, his profile, from this angle, because he wasn't looking at me.
"I'm sorry I've made you angry with me," I said. "I didn't mean to."
"I'm sorry too."
I took out my phone from my pocket and held it in my paw.
"I've got some of the rough films from the shoot here," I offered the phone, "they gave some to me. I could show you what the photos will be like on the page."
"I don't think I want to see."
"I'd like you to," I continued, "so that you'll know what it was and don't need to worry about it."
"I'm really not sure."
"Please," I said. "I want you to see, I don't want it to be a secret. I don't want this to come between us. You're my husband."
He snuffled.
"And you are my difficult husband too, yes," he said.
He looked at me mournfully for a moment or two before he nodded.
"Okay," he said, finally.
"Okay," I replied. I tapped on my phone a couple of times to send the photos into our home cloud. "It's a new folder called 'Photoshoot', I think that's self-explanatory."
He flicked on the pad with his thumb and opened the folder in the image library viewer app. The first photo to show up was me sitting on a weight lifting bench, wearing compression shorts and a shirt and sneakers, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees while looking at the camera. Kurt looked at it with somewhat of a detached look, which made me feel worrisome since it was me he was looking at, he was supposed to enjoy seeing me in sexy poses! But I guess he was still pissed off about the photoshoot, so I'd have to give him that.
"It was a nice gym," I said, "not very big, but good equipment. Not that I got to really try them out."
"Hmmmhhmmm."
That probably wasn't an interesting detail. He tapped over the next photo, which showed me standing up now, all muscles puffed out and highlighted by the skintight fabric. Looking at it made me feel a bit self-conscious. Ogling at myself in revealing and suggestive snaps like this wasn't an everyday occurrence, and believe me, I had done my share of it - I'd been taking selfies even before the term was invented, lol.
"Obviously they aren't finished yet," I mused, "they'll photoshop them for color balance and all that crap, but yeah..."
"Hmmmm."
Flick. Now it was me leaning against a support column, to show the bulge of my muscles and the curve of my butt. It was actually a pretty nice photo, taken from an angle that was gentle on my current shortcomings when it came to muscle mass and definition. Just a nice-looking lion posing and showing off.
"Well...yeah," I said.
Swap. Me looking at the camera with a thumb under my waistband and pushing on it to show the elastic of a jockstrap I was wearing underneath the compression pants.
Me with my eyes closed and feeling up my pecs.
Me stretching my paws high up above my head like a good cat.
Me with my shirt dangling from a paw.
Me with the shirt thrown over my shoulder casually.
It got racy quickly, though. Soon the clothes were gone and it was just me posing with the jock, groping on my crotch, showing off my ass lined by the elastics. Spread butt cheeks to show my fuzzy hole...lying on the weight bench with my legs up to my chest...stroking my bulge...heady stares at the camera with my erection, big and hard, shining for the cameras.
Kurt appeared quite impassionate, even amidst the more sexy shots. Finally they ran out, and he put the pad down to his knees and turned the screen off. I looked at him tentatively, acutely aware of my own arousal that had grown from seeing the photos, no matter my misgivings over them and the strain they'd put on my long relationship with Kurt. I still stood by my decision, that doing one more gig as Benny Thicker to make money for our running needs was worth it. It was my way to provide for this family of two, and I had to take that chance.
"Well...that's that," I said. "Those are just part of the raw snaps, of course, they'll pick the ones they think are best and...yeah."
"Yeah, I've watched America's Next Top Model" he said.
I chuckled, nervously. That was such a silly thing to say. Such a Kurt thing to say, too.
"Heheh."
"I'm sorry there no food," he said.
"We can always order some," I offered.
"Maybe we can," he said.
*