Movie Night
To save the Bebop, Jet Black might have to work extra hours
“Here we are, Marshal. 'thought you could escape us?"
“You can flee to Venus, it won't be enough!"
The men chuckled, looking down, with their faces contorted by envy and desires. Their bodies, scarred and marked, were exposed in front of Jet Black as he tried to move.
But to no avail.
Naked, his weapons taken away, his artificial arm deactivated, Jet Black wiggled on the mattress while glancing at those who were supposed to be his captors. He frowned, grumbled, and spat at their faces, particularly the youngest of the lot, who seemed eager to prove himself.
“You can talk, morons. But if there's something I know, it's crimes never pay! Do your worst!" he said with a bravado… Met with a first hand gripping his bearded chiseled jaw with enough strength for the lips to pucker up.
He grumbled and growled, his prominent brows frowning despite the large scar cutting the right one in half. But he faced the man who held him, a brute with a dark complexion and a face prettier than Jet Black's. His name? The former Cop didn't know, but he glanced back at him, the black irises meeting the brown ones.
“Our worst? Marshal? We'll do. A nice looking copper, about to get dicked down, we missed that."
Just like that, Jet's lips were thrust against the brute's mouth. They met, they kissed, their tongue danced. The former cop's expression started headstrong, revolted by the kiss. But then, it eased: the brows dropped, the eyes rolled, the jaw unclenched, and when both men took their breaths, it was for their lips to rush together the instant after.
It didn't help either. The men were moving around Jet. They didn't surround him, but some moved behind him to grip his posterior. They touched it, stroked the black hair covering it… Sweat caked them, making them form long lines as the fingers danced to massage the cheeks and spread them apart.
With a muffled sigh, Jet Black looked over his shoulders to have a glance at the men that moved at his sides, leaving his ass exposed as they played with it. One man on the right, one on the left… And more than that, their fingers were teasing his tense asshole.
It was lubricated now… The swollen rim clenched to the outside eye while a finger teased the orifice. The finger tugged on it by hooking the sphincter and revealed the pinkish interior. It was warm, moist, and ready—an orifice that had been trained before.
“Damn, Marshal, have you been keeping yourself ready for us?" chuckled a gangster.
“Shut up, criminals! I am—"
His voice muffled when the stud in front of Jet Black grabbed him by the jaw, guiding him into another mouthful of a kiss that made his cheeks fill up from the invasion. The kiss was… less than perfect. But it was enough for the moment, as Jet Black's aggressive attitude disappeared and was replaced by a delighted smile.
One completed when the focus was back on the asshole. On the quivering mess of a hole that was under assault. One finger, a second, a third. The two men were working Jet Black's ass without giving it a break. Those digits were like tools, exploring and pulling. They were in unison stretching that orifice until the insides, dripping with fluids, could be visible…
Before a finger, coming from below, between Jet Black's legs, rose to go inside and… Start to move. The squelching sound came perfectly, produced by the hole's clenching tightly until lubricant oozed out loudly.
However, it didn't stop the other men on either side to massage Jet Black, to massage his cheeks and to—
[I]ATCHOO!
[/I]The scene stopped on the moment as the right hand disappeared from Jet Black's ass, pulled away while dragging along trails of lube.
[I]ATCHOO! ATCHOO!
[/I]“Cut!"
A large groan came from the “bandits", from everyone as the movements and the kisses stopped. The movements, the actions, all came to a stop while Jet Black reactivated his artificial arm with a single touch.
“It's getting real hard to do it proper," he grumbled as he stretched his limbs, trying to shake off the numbness from holding the position for so long.
“That's it! It's a short break, guys! Let's get back to it in… fifteen minutes!"
The crowd dispersed away, especially the extras who were only there to appear in the shot. Most of them changed their appearance, going from excited perverts to bored participants who lounged on the different sofas placed further behind the camera.
Jet Black? He raised a hand toward the actors before he stepped toward the camera and the crew behind. Already, the director was chewing out the guy who had sneezed during the shot. The little man was shouting, screaming, and bouncing like someone who'd been too high for his own good.
“Shit, that was a good performance, Jet!" chuckled another man, coming from behind the crew with an offered cigarette. Not one to refuse an offer, Jet Black took it and leaned as the man lit it. Jonah. Fair-skinned, with long blond hair, an oiled beard peppered with white hair, dressed to the nine with a white suit complimented by a blue scar over his chest. He looked like a sore thumb in that dilapidated warehouse converted into a studio.
Jet hadn't answered yet, instead taking a long puff while he stood naked in the cold, open air.
His hairy but muscular body was tense, with his hair bristling from the slight Venusian breeze coming despite plastic covers on the broken windows. His body, covered with scars, was one of a Cop who had been sent to the worst situations, as proven by his artificial arm or the metal plate on the right side of his face.
But… beyond that aspect, he showed to the whole world… He was erect. His cock was hard like steel, pointing right in front of him like a spear. The cockhead was red, shining from the precum coating it… Same as his testicles.
“What's with the sneezing guy? He's gonna fail all shots?" asked Jet Black, sighing and blowing the smoke before he offered the cigarette back to his interlocutor, who took it.
“Allergy to Venusian spores. He's lucky he hasn't lost his sight."
“He should worry about his health and take a gate somewhere else. He will regret it sooner than later," continued Jet, taking another puff of smoke.
“He told me he will have enough Woolongs for that after the movie," continued Jonah as he approached, his index fingers going over Jet Black's cockhead and pushing against it. It didn't resist as blood was already flushing from the organ, but the touch made Jet Black sigh and close his eyes.
“Slowly. You're gonna break it, and you can't replace it like an arm."
“Is this difficult, today?" continued the old man, his breath over Jet Black's neck while those digits went over the bushy lower belly.
“They're going to town with me. Even when they're not in the focus… I wanna cum; they edged me nine time."
It was amateurish to say so, but Jet Black couldn't lie or say he wasn't an amateur. He was doing it for a reason.
The Bebop wasn't doing fine at the moment. Bounties were running dry unless you went to the Solar System's furthest edges, but it wasn't worth it or manageable. There were other ways to get some fast buck… But Jonah had an interest in him. Always had.
Their meeting had been through sheer luck and the offer all the more absurd years ago. But now? Well… Now, it felt like an okayish way to earn Woolongs and not have to sell the ship off.
“Well?"
Jet Black blinked, suddenly brought back to the discussions. Jonah's hand had moved away, and he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
“I zoned out. You asked something?"
“If you want a proper break in my room," said Jonah, pointing behind him with his thumb.
“… Let's get done with it," said Jet Black somberly.
A remark that made Jonah chuckle as he turned away and started to walk a familiar path.
One Jet followed once he had his slippers on and a towel in his hands.
Jonah owned the warehouse and paid for those productions. Therefore, he was often around during shots and to give his opinion to the director. A micromanager, but he only did it when Jet Black was around. Of course, the old guy had a thing for the Cop. And it wasn't like Jet Black could refuse. Not anymore.
In the beginning? Oh, he would have had some strong words about his attitude as he walked through the dimly lit corridors towards a closed door. But he had changed. He had to change.
His situation… Wasn't so bad.
Not when he entered the richly furnished room Jonah kept in the warehouse. It had a vanity on one side, costumes and suits on the other, and Jet Black's usual jumpsuit in a corner. It even had a desk where Jonah would sit if he received any crew member.
But right now, the guy stood by a chair as an invitation.
An invitation for Jet Black to sit on it with his legs spread before the man. Jonah… watched him. The blue eyes were feasting on Jet's appearance, going over his large shoulders to his burly hairy chest, to his abs… And ended in his groin before Jonah plunged and huffed Jet Black's bushy groin.
“Ten Million Woolongs," the old Cop said, giving in to his lack of ethics at the moment.
“Seven," countered Jonah, rubbing his face against the sweaty and greasy pubes. Even going as far as to lick them and taste the salty sweat sticking to them.
“Eight," countered Jet, reclining and sighing, his body relaxing under the caresses and the hand going on his testicles to massage them. He… swore himself never to fuck around after Alisa. He had been keeping his promise. But ultimately failed.
“Eight, then."
With that confirmation, Jonah's mouth descended over Jet's soft cock, giving the base a long lick while the deft fingers kept massaging the hairy scrotum. Jonah knew how to please men, and sure it was, Jet wasn't his first… Or his only partner.
But he had no interest in Jonah's private life. Their lives intersected here and there, but not further.
No need when everything between them was purely sexual: porn shooting, fucking, discussions. Even now, Jonah's mouth moved up, following Jet Black's rising dick. Blood pumped in it, making to organ point up and bend so the cockhead pointed away from Jonah's lips.
It didn't stop the businessman. A slight shuffling, a move in his posture, and those lips were on the cockhead, silky and soft. Jonah's mouth was divine and careful, the teeth always minded when he went as far as deepthroat Jet Black's sizeable cock. Today… would be no different, it seemed.
The old man descended his lips, saliva, and precum trickling onto his beard while he took a long, deep breath through the nose. A long-winded breath that continued as Jet's dick slowly disappeared inside. Slowly… Steadily… Carefully. But not without pleasure for the former Cop. Jet reclined on his chair, looking up at the steel ceiling with a shy smile drawn on his face.
“The tongue of a demon but the lips of an angel. Keep working your magic," he mumbled.
His artificial fingers nearly cracked when they went over Jonah's head, pressing against the lush hair and patting it. It was garish. But it sounded right in Jet Black's mind while his dick was swallowed in.
Already more than half, his testicles clenched... more than three quarters, and his toes curled while extended on either side of the businessman.
That mouth was something else, was something that other actors couldn't compare to. But never did Jonah accept the idea of participating. He kept himself to the shadow.
“Oh… Slowly," groaned Jet when the mouth pulled back…
Only to push back down. He closed his eyes from the sudden stimulation, his mouth contorting while he growled. His scowl was intense but nothing that betrayed any pain or suffering when Jonah's mouth descended. No. It was intense and sensual, but nothing painful. The old man knew how to suck dicks through and through. His mouth was velvety, his tongue playful and teasing. His lips were sucked in to cover the teeth even when Jonah's jaw closed and clenched. No…
Jonah knew how to use his mouth and was divine at it. He slurped and sucked, the pressure maintained by his tight lips kept Jet Black on edge for the whole ordeal. He licked the sweaty glans and passed a tip beneath the bulbous tip where the sweat and precum would accumulate due to the foreskin. Then, it went down, tracing along the blood veins pulsating within. Licking was regular, constant… Quick.
“Sweet love… Imma bust," mouthed Jet, feeling a slight quiver in his groin.
In answer, he reclined and grabbed his arms. His fingers dug into the soft fabric while his breathing quickened and dried. He was feeling it. Any lick now?
Any caress… Anything.
Anything would be enough to push him beyond the edge and guide him into an abyss of pleasure and satisfaction. His naked toes curled, his ass clenched…
And the man in front of him kept sucking.
Jonah wasn't waiting. His loud slurping, swallowing the precum, and keeping the contact airtight was brutal… But more than that, it created that encompassing touch all over his dick. The sensation permeated his cock… Like a warm veil that kept clinging to him. The shocks, the sparks, they all came from that divine and luscious tongue twisting and curling to collect any droplet or fluid.
“Jonah. Get ready and—"
Jet Black spoke, his hand stroking the man's attached hair and slightly undoing it. But as soon as he felt it, the tingly feeling at his cocktip. It vanished. Everything vanished, and the fresh air replaced it. And he grumbled, passing a metallic hand over his face.
“Hrmphh! I- I was this close to the sweet heavens. I was already hearing them swinging!"
“Cut the crap, Jet. I know you want it."
Well… Jet readjusted his posture, wiping away the sweat covering his forehead while listening to the faint [I]fwump[/I] from below. That and the song of fabric brushing against the skin. With a hand beneath his chin and an elbow on the armchair, Jet Black shifted his gaze and observed Jonah. He saw the old man, wrinkled, yet fit beyond his age, strip like any actor. The man wasn't exceedingly fat, though he had a slight belly. However, it was all reinforced by his large pectorals and broad shoulders, giving him the stature of a strong man despite not working in the fields or construction. Maybe this was a remnant of another life? That was Jet's main theory as he glanced the man up and down and watched the blood pumping within that groin.
That guy didn't need to masturbate or stroke himself to get everything pumping. Nor did he need any help from Jet Black to climb onto the chair with his legs spread while his hands went on the former cop's shoulders.
“Was that our break?" asked Jet Black, glancing aside in an attempt not to avoid meeting Jonah's gaze or to have his eyes wandering on the man's hairy chest or belly. A complete failure when he glanced and noticed the recently added golden piercings going through those nipples.
Above, Jonah chuckled.
“If the main star needs a longer break, I'll grant it," he said with the insolence proper to young men. But neither was a young man.
“Fine… But you gotta double the Woolong, or I'm out," said Jet Black, tapping against the man's rock-hard thighs.
“Deal. But you have to put more effort this time."
Jet Black glanced above, met eyes with the man… With Jonah, with the guy who had pulled him out of a sticky situation. That guy wasn't benevolent… But Jet Black had enough gratitude not to resist when a hand went behind his bald head. When the soft grip pulled him closer. Jonah's breath was always so fresh, so tidy, so perfect.
Jet Black closed his eyes and tasted the lips, the slightly fruity touch on them. Then the saliva, feeling the man's broad tongue tease him, play with him… Push him deeper.
He answered in kind, giving back in strength what he was offered, tasting and exploring the businessman's mouth but not to the point of torturing him. Just enough to keep him silent and focused when Jet's hands moved to grab those thighs.
A bit of fat but enough muscles to keep both steady. The chair beneath them squeaked, but they ignored it. The mouth and tongue danced, and the steely and firm hand gripped beneath Jonah to guide his body closer to Jet until the businessman had to lean and arch his back. They were close, their heat shared by the moment while their dripping manhood rubbed between them: Jonah's against Jet's abdominal muscles… Jet's against that plump and clean ass.
Then, out of breath, with his face red, Jet Black pulled from the kiss. He exhaled, then took a long, deep breath. And repeated, feeling how his “partner" shifted his posture and that belly now rubbed against his. They were… As closely as it was possible, their movements were felt by the others… Whether from the mere breathing to shifting his posture.
Same as the hands landing on Jet's shoulders, keeping their postures steady.
“Take me, Jet. Don't hold back," stated Jonah, lowering his hips while Jet's erect and drippy cock pushed between those cheeks, spreading them apart… All to reach that sweet, honeyed, and modified asshole.
“Don't let go of my body, baby, and I'll get us to cloud nine," said Jet Black with a smile in his voice, the same that was plastered on his face as his cocktip nudged the sensitive orifice. Beneath the touch of his cocktip, the muscle opened up and released what was lukewarm lube onto his cock… A sort of mod you wouldn't find unless in the most illegal brothel within the solar system.
“What was that?" asked Jonah, descending slowly, guided by the hand.
“An old song, from Ganymede," explained Jet Black while his artificial hand dug into the soft flesh. The muscles were covered, giving him ample movement to grip and pull on those slabs of meat. He could pinch them, too, though it would ruin the current ambiance.
“Do you have more of those?"
“Maybe… From older years," answered Jet Black with a raspy voice.
His cock was… Sensitive, quite been even when he was a pimple-faced teen about to join the ISSP. The girls he'd met, the experience he'd had. He was quite the soft spot for those ladies' hearts. And they knew how to reach him during these years.
He sighed, rolling his head back against the headrest when his tip slipped inside. The ribbed inner walls were delicious to feel: they stroked his dick while he progressed… And any contraction was like tiny mouths coming to give him a goodnight kiss on his veiny cock.
“Oh… You gotta tell me… Where you got modifications…" sighed Jet Black, closing his eyes as he lowered the hips. Now, the ribbed insides were over his throbbing dick, sucking on it and massaging it. Jonah perfectly controlled his ass, and every contraction was an action, a deliberate act.
All of this brought Jet closer to orgasm if he wasn't fighting the waves of delicate but intense pleasure going inside his groin.
“So you bust them out?" continued Jonah, his deft fingers remaining on Jet's shoulders. But they didn't dance; they dug inside the soft flesh and where steel and bone met. Like that ass that eagerly sucked onto the dick, the digits were tentatively undoing the knots and tensions within those muscles.
“I'm no longer ISSP," commented Jet, half-slurring when his entire dick was rocking back inside. It throbbed against the wall, making them react with faint clenching. A heavenly texture making the sensations from the rocking hips even better.
“But you were."
“And?" asked Jet Black, opening an eye to see Jonah's close expression. Watching how the jovial and grinning businessman looked stern in the moment. The cold gaze and the cold eyes were all on Jet as he seemed to think.
And when he found something… Jet felt it. As the fingers were closing and nearly crushing his shoulders while that hole suddenly squeezed his dick.
“I can't tell you," explained Jonah. Then, suddenly, the pressure released, and the man started to ride… Up went his hips, and up went that heavenly hole, taking away the pleasure from Jet's quivering body. “It's confidential within the industry."
“Hrmphh… Nobody I can talk to? Tips?"
“No."
Jonah's firm tone gave everything Jet needed to know: no further prodding would give any result, and it would damage their relationship.
Instead, he sighed and grabbed those cheeks further. He lifted them, helping Jonah in lifting those hips until… Until the cocktip nearly got out.
And then… The hips dropped.
Jet's hips dropped onto the “criminal"'s groin, the not-so-tight orifice clenching around it in an attempt to milk him… For Jet Black, this was easy. His prostate was deliciously milked and hit, but he had the stamina… And had had his amount of satisfaction before.
His ass bounced up and down before the camera, oftentimes offering it a glance and a in-the script-grin as men surrounded him.
They weren't forceful, but their hands guided his head to their groins while his hands danced from one dick to another, lost within the melee. The saliva-coated dick throbbed within his mouth, eager to explode after hours of foreplay without release.
Beneath his fingers, he felt the heavy, churning testicles awaiting their moments and the bobbing shafts quivering under his touch. He stroked them, touched them, and explored them.
Beneath the flesh and metal, he encountered the wrinkly skin and throbbing veins. At his tongue-tip, he foretasted the cum that was about to release right in his mouth after a supreme climax. In his ass, he had the man's dick under control.
And he bounced, bounced without a care for his own testicles slamming against the guy's lower belly or his half-hard dick flopping around while spraying people with precum. He closed his eyes briefly, half hearing the director's scream.
But he stopped sucking…
In the middle of the melee, with the men surrounding him, he merely had to stand there and bounce like he was supposed to.
But… Soon, he was hit. The first droplet to hit him was across his chest, a long white trail going over his fuzzy chest hair and belly.
The second went over his face, a shot right on his beard before the juice would be smeared by perverted hands. The third and fourth went over his back.
This was his signal to clench his thighs, giving a firm squeeze to the man below him who hissed, cried, and came within his hole. The same for him to reach for the cum-coated dicks, the nearest two, and to stroke them. He caressed them, even had his big finger going on the underside to stroke between the testicles and the dick… Just at the base where most would be sensitive but not overly…
Cum continued to land on his face, wave after wave, painting his fair skin in white and dying his body hair as he looked at the camera for the final shot of that scene.
“Go on, boys. Show your new boss mark their bitches!" he said, with his growly voice almost laughing when cum stopped to pour… And piss would follow, as requested, the script.