Performance Anxiety
#47 of Confessions of a Gay Porn Star
Performance Anxiety
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Jimmy's baack...another snippet for you, and I look forward to your comments!
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"Hmmmhhpphh..."
Wet, hot...ticklish...so hot...
*smack*
"Everything okay?"
The warm wetness was replaced by equally warm but not as slick fingers on my shaft, but a tickle of breath teased my spit-polished tip. Another finger tickled my tailhole for the moment, me lying on my back, legs comfortably spread and pillows under my head and back.
"Huh?" my ears bounced while I looked down at my hubby crouched between my legs, still smiling after having a muzzleful of cock.
"Am I doing a good job here or what?" Kurt spoke, those warm words whispering against my wet flesh, while he kept his fingers around the base.
I felt a shameful throb in my cock while I realized that what I got going on there could only generously described as 'half mast', which was something definitely unusual for me, the ex-porn-star. (Not that performance anxiety on the set was anything unusual, and that'd happened to me too, but in civilian life...no...just no, lol!)
Shit.
"Of course you are," I said quickly while I let out a deep breath, "that feels great."
He gave me a small stroke again, pads tickling on the barbs along my shaft, and for a moment I felt the proper, hot, sexual thrill that his touch was meant to give for me in such an intimate time with my husband of all furs.
Kurt kissed my tip softly, and looked up to me again, before he regretfully let go of me, slipped his finger from my butt, and crawled up to me until we were nose to nose. I put my paws onto the small of his back and pulled him close, when we kissed, nice and slow and proper and his hard cock poked against my belly, throbbing gently.
"Are you tired?" he asked once our lip-lock was over and done with and we were just snuggling.
I knew what was wrong with me, but...I didn't want to talk yet.
"A little," I said, "you know how it is."
"I hope I wasn't pushing myself on you," Kurt mused.
"No, no!" I gave his butt a reassuring pat to tell him that he had definitely not forced himself upon me. "I'm horny..."
That came out sounding wrong - not enthusiastic at all. He was fully hard, too, and I was still drooping between our bodies and it wasn't a really good show of manly pride at all. At least he was kissing me again, tail flicking about, I could hear, while he stroked my muzzle with his gentle paw.
"So am I..." he purred, voice steady and full of a pleasant timbre.
His gorgeous spotty butt felt so nice under my paws...but the harsh knocking on the back of my mind kept me from appreciating it properly. I felt terrible about that since he was obviously very much in the mood and things had been progressing quite well until I had to 'perform'...lol...and now I was being a spoilsport in the dick department and that just wouldn't do.
"Great," I smiled, rubbing my paw over his back.
How was I going to tell him about the offer? We'd talked about my career in detail, a lot, definitely, but it was always in the past tense, and I'd always been adamant about never wanting to do porn again, it just wasn't for me anymore. He knew how badly off I'd been when I finally stopped, because neither my body nor my mind could take the things I had to go through to make my living.
This would mean taking it from the confines of the memory and the past into the present day...something we really had to think about, how it could affect our relationship and everything in general. What if, with a big circulation of my porn, furs would start coming up and recognizing me at the café? Or elsewhere...well...furs didn't exactly walk up to porn stars in the supermarket to ask if they were the one who got double penetrated in Kung Fuck Panda. (Hint - unless it's a gay bar, don't ask, lolz!)
It probably was a small worry compared to how Kurt might react. We were in a good place with our relationship, we didn't have any particular worries about one another, or our commitment. Hell, we were married. We had rings to prove that, and papers with digital signatures on them, and we had...we had...we had a shared bank account where we put money to fund our housekeeping and any big plans or purchases we wanted. If that wasn't love...
I did love him - and it'd be hard not to, he was humping my belly and licking my lips while stroking my mane and it felt sexy and nice - but what if he'd react badly? I'd been dumped by shallow bastards because I was doing porn, and maybe I was too shallow to appreciate them properly, but...I'd lick Kurt's feet if that'd make him believe that I appreciated him as much as I could. And I had even done that but...let's not go there.
Even that kinky thought wasn't enough to put more bleed into my poor penis. I was just too worried about this all. About the old urge coming...when dollar signs would flash in my eyes and...and that usually made my cock hard, or my tail raise, or at least used to -
Kurt was rubbing his butt against my crotch now, tail swaying against my legs while his ass rocked from side to side and his paws grabbed onto my pecks and he leaned onto me, grinning lustfully.
"Let me help you relax..." he smirked, cock bouncing, full and hard, simply a wonderful sight.
I moaned, unable to help myself at that sight. My paws, which had been resting still on the bed, gripped his hips.
"Oh..." I breathed.
In a few moments, he swung his leg over and presented his rump and his cock for me again, while his paws went...yeah...he went for me, engulfing me in his heat once again, which left me both moaning and rumbling...before I took him n my muzzle, too, to have something to do while - yeah.
He knew how to get it out of me.
For now.
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Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it, and I look forward to your comments!