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A Twin Pleasure

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Hehhey, Jimmy's back here, with an interesting memory from his past! Oh boy...do tell me what you think!

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*

"You're joking!" Doug yelped to me.

"I'm not," I replied to him across the café table we shared, mugs in front of us. "It's true."

"But no fucking way..." the panther shook his head, "oh damn..."

"Well it's a surprise for me too, for sure," I said.

"But still..." Doug's ears flip-flopped.

I stirred my drink.

"They did tell me they wanted to do a group shoot but I ever would've thought this was what they had in mind exactly," I noted," I just thought I was going to pose with some of the models and that was it."

"But still...God, Jimmy, twins!" the black panther gasped almost theatrically.

That'd be Myles and James Curtis, precisely, infamous underwear models who had recently signed their contact with Adrian Kristopher and now the clothing company's website was already flooding with pictures of the two extremely sexy men strutting their stuff on glossy photos and...wearing very little.

Oh, lol, I had a boner even now, and glad that it was hidden by my loose shirt and my jeans, while Doug, too, looked somewhat uneasy on his seat.

"I know, I know, lol, "I said, "I bought the Unf Plus briefs simply because of that ad picture they did where one of the brothers rummages the others' drawers for something to wear and the second brother is watching from the door wearing an identical pair..."

Doug's ears flicked.

"Don't remind me," he said, "damn...I'm so jealous."

"Sorry, bro," I told the panther, "I'm sure they'll ask you to come to do some more modeling. Didn't they talk about shooting you for the spring show? They haven't asked me for that."

"Oh, yeah, maybe, but still...that didn't say anything about the Curtis twins being involved! And you're getting to work with them now!"

"Well, I could ask...what's that guy called...Dominic..."

"That little cocksucker," Doug smirked.

I raised a brow.

"Speaking from experience?"

The black panther shrugged.

"Maybe something happened at three am in a club...maybe..." he winked.

"Tease," I flicked my tongue at him before immersing that slick muscle with warm coffee, "since when didn't you tell about each of your conquests?"

"Since it could imply that I got myself a job with booty," he said.

"Your booty is your job," I observed.

"Let's not get to that area," he mused, shifting from side to side on his that area.

"Heheh."

"So when is the shoot?" he leaned over the table towards me. "Can I come with you?"

I laughed.

"Somehow I imagine you trying to tag along would be as successful as when I tried to come to your photo shoot with them. They seem to prefer a closed set, just like we do."

"Yeah, what do they do in an underwear shoot, I wonder..." the panther gave me a lascivious look.

"Lots of package adjusting," I winked.

"I should know!"

"We both do," I said," we did pose for the 2018 Christmas card in those jockstraps."

"Hmmm...I still wear mine sometimes..." the panther murred.

"I'll try to get you some freebies in your size," I smirked.

"Can you get autographs on them?" the panther made what I presume was his interpretation of puppy eyes.

I snickered.

"You need another excuse not to launder your underwear?" I suggested.

"Never," he smirked and leaned back on his chair. "So when is the shoot anyway?!?"

*

One thing we know in porn is that you only start at a comfortable hour so that everyone has managed to wake up, get coffee, get their bowels emptied, muscles pumped and fur groomed before shooting starts, but models..._real_models are another thing. They might be told to appear in all sorts of places at all sorts of weird hours, which meant that arriving at seven thirty am to some strange small open air spa was not something I was used to. The place looked deserted, too, except for a couple of cars and a station wagon parked onto what I presumed was the visitors' parking area. My arrival would've probably gone unnoticed without some sort of bad ass-looking wolf, who was possibly a former model, judging how hunky he was, and maybe a wannabe bad boy, from all the leather he wore, who came out of a door.

"Who are you?" he asked. "This place is closed.

"I'm...Lance Logan," I said, quickly, "I'm here to shoot an ad with the Adrian Kristopher guys."

"The wolf gave me a long look before he - I kid you not - tapped an earpiece, and he had a curling cable coming down from it to a pocket on the chest of the aggressive Dog the bounty hunter vest he was wearing.

"Gate to Control, do you copy?"

Incomprehensible speech scratched into his ear, which tried to flick but couldn't, really, with the earpiece in place, and the wolf gave me another look.

"Got a lion here saying he's to film...okay, roger."

The wolf looked at me.

"They say you can go in. You're being expected."

"Well I guess, since I'm the model..." I said, "thanks, dude."

He have me a dirty look (and not of the good kind, lol!) while I headed over to the door. It opened into a comfortably foyer, white and grey tiles and easy chairs and real plants and vines and a smoothie bar and enormous windows opening onto the indoor pool area that was also open to the outdoors area, and outside I could see an entire entourage of furs hurrying about with photography equipment. I scouted a door for myself and slipped over to the pool side, where I was immediately picked up by a busy Dachshund.

"Are you Lance?" the young male said.

"Yep!"

"Great!" he said. "I'm Louis."

"HI," I said, when we shook paws.

"Let's get you to styling and fitting right away, the guys are having their massage so you can hello to them and I can see if Ms. Fender can pop by to greet you and give you some ideas about the shoot. She's currently checking the light levels, but I'll see if she can come over."

I really stopped listening once the Dachshund mentioned 'guys' and 'massage', but I nodded and feigned understanding.

"Let's take you to meet Roberto, I'm sure he can't wait to get his paws on you."

The slinky dog gave me a wink, and I got the feeling it was a general idea about here. Not that I minded, lol. I was already enjoying the attention.

"Lead on!"

We walked along a plastic mat that had been spread onto the floor and I was ushered past jacuzzi and a small heart-shaped pool over to what was the deck area, opening onto the bigger outside pool that had springboards and even a slide on it, everything bathed in bright, hot California sun.

"Hey, guys!"

He waved a paw, and I looked in the direction...and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. There, on the shadow of a palm tree, were two massage tables, and lying on their bellies on each of them was an identical striped rump - I mean, a very similar feline of tiger persuasion, each having their shoulders worked on by a masseuse - a weasel and a red panda, clad in similar white apparel, both of them.

Upon the dog calling them, the masseuses looked up from their work...and then, with almost comical precision, the two furs on the tables looked, too, each over their left shoulder, to see what was going on.

"Hey, here's the Blue Paws guy!" Louis called out.

The masseuses gave only a passing glance, really, while the tiger on the left waved, and the right one raised a paw, too.

"Hey-a!"

"Hello!"

They called out, and my tail made an extra happy flick. Their voices were as sexy as they looked...oh, damn...changing between different...hahah...outfits...would be interesting, for sure. Their bodies were perfect...hunky, yes, very proportionate to their body size, and with blue eyes, long tails, playful grins...

Oh, damn. They were sexy enough to melt ice.

"Hello!" I gave a small wave, too. "I'm Lance!"

"I've seen pictures," the tiger on the left winked, "name's Myles, the ugly one's James."

"Hahah," the other tiger chortled....and definitely wasn't ugly.

"You can chat more soon," we better get you to Roberto," Louis reminded me.

"Oh, okay," I said, my eyes still not entirely departed from the sight of those rears that were not covered by the customary towels for the massage for whatever reason these furs could've thought up. Maybe to cheer me up before the shoot, lol?

Heh. I was feeling happy down there alright when the Dachshund treated me to an impromptu tour of the deserted spa which looked more like a horror movie set in that state, really, if not for the furs setting up reflectors and mirrors and flash equipment and cameras and their mysterious instruments to measure the wind and the light and whatever they needed to do in this dynamic environment that was the outside, in opposition to the comfortable studio I was used to.

"Roberto!"

This fur in question was a Rottweiler of rather tall stature, though with the swishing tail and a measuring tape around his neck, he countered that with a...pleasant, manner.

"Oh, hello," he spoke in that voice that's annoying for anyone who isn't a morning fur, while the one speaking certainly is, "aren't you fun to work with...Luca, Coucou, come on over!"

He clapped his paws and sure as hell, that summoned a twinky lion and a slightly less flamboyant coyote, who wore loud shirts and black shorts and ironic flip-flops.

I hello'd them and they hello'd me, and the Rottweiler spiraled around me.

"Hmm...yes...yes.." he mused, "take it all off, dear, I have to see what we will have to do to get you perfect."

"Just like that?" I asked.

The dog clicked his tongue.

"But aren't you used to doing just that, dear?" he said.

The protégés giggled. I hoped my tiger boner had gone down by the time I was going to slip out of my underwear.

"Chop chop!"

Well, then. It wasn't really a striptease, but I had an audience, so I couldn't resist the temptation to show off a little, and at least the twink managed a quick "ohh" when I took off my shirt, and then my pants, and then down to my Adrian Kristopher boxers, which the Rottweiler noted with a wink, and told me to get rid of those, too, and then I was standing there naked on the tiles and with a coyote collecting my clothes into a plastic bag.

"I'll keep these for you," the canine told me.

"Thanks," I said.

"Hmm...now..." the Rottweiler stepped close to me, definitely onto my private space, and gave me an once-over. "Yes...yes...yes...yes..."

I was surprised he wasn't going "oui, oui, oui", but maybe he wasn't in a French mood.

"I see you're a Large," the coyote giggled.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw that he'd been rummaging through my clothes, and was currently holding my boxers in his paw so that he could check the label on the inside. I couldn't quite decide whether him doing that so casually was sexy or not...but then a poke on my butt from the Rottweiler's paws changed my mind. He was smiling sweetly at me, as the paw was withdrawn...and then both of them landed on my hips.

"Hmmm...get the Large, yes...maybe the Big, too, if we need to fit," he said, "there is plenty."

I wondered if that meant my butt was big or something...maybe it was a good thing in this business, as it was in my line of work where bubble butts were enjoyed a lot.

"Yes, it's very good."

He circled me again, and I tired to stare just ahead of me, to a small table that held an open aluminum makeup case with puffs and brushes and bottles protruding out of it. The lion and the coyote were moving somewhere behind me, doing whatever the assistants of a flamboyant fashion expert would do (and this guy could even out-flamboyant Marriott back in our studio, lol!), and I could hear the photography furs giving cryptic commands to each other somewhere on the primary pool area. We were shooting outside, it seemed, not something completely new for me, but certainly a new challenge. Weather seemed alright for now, and it wasn't that tricky, either way, but a shower of rain could always ruin perfectly booked filming time...and that meant loss of money for everyone involved.

"Coucou, get me Chrome Yellow, Daffodil and...Flax, please," the Rottweiler said, "On the number three brushes...no, Chrome on four and the rest on three...and Luca, get the robe and...something comfortable to drink, it may take us a moment yet."

That meant makeup, I knew as much, and probably lots of it. I wasn't sure whether that was only due to the special requirements of the shoot, or whether I really had that many imperfections on my fur tone and warmth when compared to those two tigers dozing on their tables and getting stirred into relaxation...while I was poked and measured for my sexy underwear shoot.

"What're you having?" the lion asked me earnestly.

"Uh...a diet Pepsi?"

"Eww," the lion said, "okay."

He bustled away, which left me with the Rottweiler still staring at my naked self.

"Coucou tells me that you're an adult performer," the dog told me.

"Yep," I said. I doubted that came as a surprise to him, though, knowing what kind of models Adrian Kristopher employed ever so often.

"Ah," the dog fondled his measuring tape, "are you a bottom boy or a top?"

Damn.

"Uh, I do both?" I said.

"Well..." the dog mused, "you seem to be well equipped for both roles!"

"Uh..thanks," I said.

"Lol", I thought.

"Will have to apply some base onto your posterior however, to even everything out," Roberto said, "I have to make sure you look very even in the sunlight. I'd prefer it to be my work rather than the fur with the computer mouse wiping some sort of...agh...effect filter magic wand over your perfect hind."

Somehow I got the feeling that he wanted to rub his own magic wand between my butt cheeks...oh well. He wasn't really my type. Too...lavender.

The coyote returned to his master's side then, carrying a plastic box filled with little bottles and brushes.

"Okay, I'm going to get to work," Roberto declared pompously, "Coucou, could you go and check how the brothers are doing, I will need you to retouch their muzzles once their massage is over."

"I'll be right to it," the coyote said, and it sounded like he was really delighted to go and interact with the tiger twins. I was kinda envious...especially since I was about to get a makeup brush on the ass.

"This is waterproof stuff, by the way, but we have a good solvent to get rid of it once we're done," the Rottweiler told me once he was mixing his stuff.

"Somehow I expected this shoot to include...watersports," I mused.

"Heheheh."

It wasn't all bad, neither very new, being made up for a scene, or a shoot. Besides, I was allowed to drink Pepsi while the Rottweiler did stuff to my butt...which was ticklish at most, and not so bad.

"ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE LONG?"

I almost dropped my soda. Someone was speaking through a loudspeaker...and a quick glance, which got me chastised by the Rottweiler because I was ruining his stroke...and I saw a female wolf standing next to a moose whom hovered over her.

"Not too much, darling!" the Rottweiler replied in a shrill voice. "Give me...fifteen minutes?"

"CAN YOU SQUEEZE IN THE CURTIS PAIR TOO?" she boomed.

"I'll have Coucou and Luca work on them!" the Rottweiler replied.

Damn...how could he pass such an opportunity...fondle, fondle, fondle...

"OKAY, FIFTEEN MINUTES BUT NO MORE! I WANT TO START THE FIRST TEST SHOOT IN TWENTY! THE LIGHT WILL BE PERFECT THEN!"

"No worries, dear!" Roberto yelled. "We'll be ready for you!"

He poked me on the tail with a brush and I got a reminder of who was in charge, amidst the twinks running about with boxers and briefs and bikini bottoms on their paws, or the technical crew setting up the equipment needed for the shot...or...oh dear...the twin tigers approaching, with white towels around their waists, tails swinging in unison.

Oh boy...

"Oh, come on over, darlings!" the Rottweiler kept on yelling.

"You know what we need," one of the tigers said...I wasn't quite sure, which...oh, damn...they probably weren't 100% identical, but as of yet, I couldn't tell.

"I certainly do," the Rottweiler replied with a grin, "Coucou, you take Myles' card and Luca, you take James' card, and you'll know what to do."

The apprentices looked like they'd been allowed to do makeup for the Oscars or something...when they rushed to fetch their own makeup boxes.

"How's it hanging?" one of the tigers asked me...giving me a hearty grin.

Damn...I almost blushed. He could definitely tell how they were hanging...nicely between my legs, and not so snug, since it was getting quite warm already, and not only because of the sun.

"Pretty good," I said, "uhm...you?"

"Can't complain," the same tiger said, "feeling pretty pumped up."

Fuck...he did some flexing of his well-toned arms and buff chest...the other tiger just chuckled, and scratched his neck, which let me see the perfect curve of his arm, and a handsome pit, and...and a great...arch...to his neck? He was just really good-looking...they both were. They were practically shining in the sunlight that was getting more and more intense now that we were turning into the day.

"Look at me here," the Rottweiler tapped my shoulder," I'll do your muzzle and eyes next."

"Uh...okay," I looked away from the tigers with another pang of regret in my balls. At least I didn't have to watch the two makeup apprentices starting on them...though I heard them speak mysterious things about colors and shades and hues and whether to use soft or hard coc- uh, brushes on their jaw lines! My own was getting patted with a big puff putting some sort of weird sticky substance on me.

"Do you do a lot of modeling, by the way?"

That was one of the tigers...but I didn't know which, and I couldn't look over without inciting the wrath of the makeup artist.

"Sometimes!" I replied. "Mostly just...you know...filming!"

"Heh, so I guess this is more work than pleasure for you this time around!" the tiger chuckled.

He had no idea how much pleasure this was...and how frustrating at the same time, too.

"It's a job," I replied diplomatically, "do you guys do a lot of...uh....underwear modeling?"

Both of them chuckled.

"We do everything," one of them said.

Jesus...good luck for me they couldn't see my swelling sheath from where they were...just my antsily swinging tail and my butt.

"Like..." I stammered out, "like catalogues and stuff?"

"Catalogues, runways, meet and greets, spreads...music videos?"

I chuckled a bit nervously.

"You been on anything I might've seen?" I asked.

"Depends if you like electronic dance music," someone said...still couldn't tell their voices apart! Lol!

"Sure, sometimes," I said, "when I'm dancing."

"Hush now," the Rottweiler rumbled, "need to line your eyes now...keep still..."

I tried my best, and thankfully he declared that I was done, which meant I could finally look over at the tigers sitting on a pair of folding chairs, towels about their waists, and the makeup assistants doing little touching up (lol!) of their jaws and foreheads. I couldn't honestly see just what work they needed...being picture perfect, cute as button and hunky like...hmm...a pair of twin beach tigers?

"Alright, let's set you up with the first piece of gear," the Rottweiler clicked his tongue, perhaps happy with how I looked now.

He handed me a pair of skimpy white men's bikini bottoms, complete with a drawcord on them, which was neon green.

"Here you go..."

They did very little to cover my ass, for sure, and my sheath bulged obscene when I looked down to what the piece of swimwear was doing for my body...and I couldn't wait to see the tigers in them, either.

"This is the bikini bottom for the ToyBoyz range, which you will be modeling," he said," it will cover the entire spectrum of products. Bikini bottom, swimming trunks, boxersjock, briefjock, plain jockstrap, boxers with sheath compartment, briefs with sheath compartment, plain versions of both, of course, "take-a-peek" briefs, the thong...all in sixteen colors."

"Sixteen colors?" I gawked. "And I'm going to model all of them?"

"No, no, we'll do a selection now, other models will do the rest, but since you'll be the faces of the flagship launch, we'll take enough to last so that we can release them over the next few months," the Rottweiler explained to me.

"I NEED MY MODELS, NOW!" the wolfess snapped us out of our conversation. "THE SUN DOESN'T WAIT!"

"Okay, guys!" the Rottweiler patted his paws together. "Into the bikini bottoms!"

I made a point of developing an itch on my thigh which I could then scratch for a reeeaally long time when the tigers got up from their chairs, lost their towels, and bared their bodies completely (front and back, omg!) while they fitted themselves into identical skimpy swimwear to the one I was wearing at the moment. The remarkably snug garments sure highlighted their...welcoming nature...I didn't know where to look, really.

"MODELS TO THE WATER SLIDE!" the megaphone screeched.

*

Shooting porn might be hard work, but being sexy for hours on end...talk about exhausting, especially in all this sunlight! The constant spray of water and sweating also meant a lot of retouching on the makeup and fur styling, too, besides the need to change my underwear whenever the photographers (the mad wolfess and a cougar) had had their share of each set, which usually consisted of sultry solo shoots, a bit of horseplay between the tigers, and a nice trio where all three of us would look at one another appreciatively.

The tigers sure were professionals...their smiles did not waver...their bodies remained tiptop...with only a little bit of waterproof hairspray needed every now and then, to make them look perfect, whether emerging from a pool or horsing around with a water hose, spraying each other - or me -

Heh. Well, I also figured out which was which, once one of them, James, pointed out, once I mixed them up during the lunch break, that he had a black tailtip, while his brother Myles had a white tailtip. This gave me yet another excuse to stare at their butts, besides touching them whenever we needed to make a pose where I would stand on the middle with one paw on each brother's ass and they had their paws on my shoulders and leering at the camera like as if they knew what I wanted to do with them. Under my usual line of work, I would have, too, but for now we were just selling with sex, not selling....well, actual sex.

By the time we were done, I was spent, and even the tigers showed signs of tiredness once the director announced that we were a wrap, and they could finally relax. Boys sure could act, I thought, seeing how they rolled shoulders and...let it out, so to speak, now that we were done and just standing there about in our last piece of apparel me in a black and white ToyBoyz jockstraps, theirs white and blue, to counter the black stripes they already got on their but - sides!

"Whoah, sure will need a shower now..." Myles sniffed his arm...and his armpit, I suppose, which gave my sheath another twinge, "I stink like chlorine."

I was probably in a similar state, but couldn't really draw my eyes away from the sight of the tiger checking himself out. His brother must've noticed, too, because I heard a chuckle that brought me back to Earth from Planet Sexy Tiger, and I felt a heat creep into my ears. Perv or not, this was his brother we were talking about...that was like getting caught checking out your best friend's extraordinarily hot big sister, for example...I mean...that's what happened on TV, right?

"Look all you like, bro, but remember that he's the one with the girlfriend," James the tiger told me.

My ears bounced high, and I looked first at the preening tiger...then at the grinning one, who noticed my gaze, and now Myles was looking at me, too...with a kind of a cocky, knowing smirk on his lips.

"Yep, you can look, but if you want anything else, you have to go for my brother here..." Myles flicked his tail in the direction of the other tiger.

I looked at the tiger with the black tail tip, and he flicked an ear at me.

"No girlfriend...no boyfriend either," he said cheerfully," but always looking!"

Gulp.

"So..."

"I tend to enjoy these all-boys shoots more than my brother," James said," and in return, he drags me to do bikini shoots..."

"So it's a trade, really," Myles mused, glancing at his brother," but we're...flexible."

Somehow that made it only hotter.

Just how flexible...lol...maybe I'll tell you what happened at the Uh La La Lounge later on when we all hit the club for some drinks and refreshments after our hard day at work.

Heheh.

*

Thank you for reading!