I'm Practically Preparing My Straight Friend for a Gay Porn Casting

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

My straight friend comes to me asking for help preparing for a gay porn casting, because he’s never been with a guy and is afraid of looking like a stiff rookie. I explain everything to him in theory, setting the stage for the next, practical lesson."

Previous part here

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Dan returned the next day. Perhaps a little too punctually. Dressed as usual, casually, as if it were just a chill-out with a friend. But something in his eyes betrayed that he knew why he was there.

“Ready?” I asked, closing the door behind him.

“I guess so,” he replied quietly.

Today's first lesson: lips and touch, I said calmly, looking him straight in the eyes.

I sat down close. Close enough for him to feel the warmth of my body. Slowly, calmly. I looked him in the eyes.

“If you can't kiss a guy so that he wants to fuck you without saying a word... you're not cut out for this.”

Dan swallowed hard. But he didn't protest. That was already a sign of consent.

I leaned in slowly. It wasn't about rushing, it was about control. First, the breath. Then eye contact. Only then the lips.

I touched his lips lightly at first, just brushing them. Once, twice. I waited for him to open them. And then I went in.

My tongue touched his lips, slowly, fully aware. I could feel his tension, his stillness. So I did it for him. I sucked his lower lip, ran my tongue across his palate. Gently. Then harder. Then slowly again, as if we were dancing.

Finally, he stirred. He was breathing through his nose. His eyes were closed. He didn't kiss me back, but he let me kiss him. And that was enough.

When I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed and his breathing was uneven.

“Breathe,” I whispered. “I haven't even touched you yet, and you don't know where you are.”

He looked at me as if he were coming back from another place. There was a clear tent in his pants.

“See? I haven't even touched you yet. And I already have you.”

He didn't answer. But he didn't pull away.

And that was enough.

“Take off your sweatshirt,” I said quietly.

Dan hesitated for a second. Then he grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. Underneath, there was only his body, well-built, familiar from the gym, but now exposed in a different way. Not for show.

Just for me.

“Slowly,” I added.

“Like there's a camera watching.”

He grabbed his waistband. He started to unbutton it. A little stiffly, as if he wasn't sure if it was a joke. But when he slid them down and was left in just his boxers, his cock was already slightly erect. He didn't even try to hide it.

“All of it,” I said. “Everything off.”

He pulled down his boxers and stood naked, slightly tense. But he didn't cover himself. I could see his chest rising faster, his abdominal muscles twitching slightly under his skin.

I got up from the couch and walked around him slowly, as if I were evaluating an exhibit. And that's basically what it was.

“Strong arms. Chest like it should be. Abs defined. Nipples sensitive?”

He didn't answer, but he flinched when I ran my finger down his left side. I moved lower. Front, already semi-hard. Back, tense but exposed. My hands slid down to his buttocks. I ran my fingers between them. Slowly. Without a word.

He blinked. But he didn't back away.

“With a body like that... your movies will be a blast. But the camera doesn't just look at the body, it looks at what you feel.”

I put my hand on the back of his neck and brought my lips close to his ear.

“And I can already see what you're feeling. And this is just the beginning.”

“You're not alone,” I said. “I'm going to get undressed too.”

I unzipped my pants. Slowly, calmly. Not for him. For myself. So that he would feel that he wasn't being watched, but invited.

I slid down my boxers and stood naked in front of him. He was already breathing deeper, but he didn't take his eyes off me.

We sat down opposite each other on the bed, but still without touching. Just space and gaze.

I grabbed my cock. Without embarrassment. I slid my hand in, started slowly, consciously. Showing him what a controlled rhythm looks like.

“This is about more than just movement. Watch your breathing. Look at my face. The camera catches everything.”

Dan watched. So I said:

“You too. I want to see you.”

He raised his hand. He touched himself uncertainly, as if he couldn't believe he was doing it. But then he got into the rhythm. He looked at me, I looked at him.

“I don't know,” I said quietly, “if you're more turned on by my voice... or by me looking straight into your eyes.”

He hesitated. But he didn't stop. On the contrary, his movements became more confident. More daring. And he didn't take his eyes off me.

“You know that turns me on, right?” I added.

“You. Your body. The look on your face when you do it. Don't pretend it doesn't flatter you.”

I could see his breath quickening. His muscles tensing with each stroke.

All doubts were gone. All that remained was tension.

“Slow down,” I said quietly. “It's not about coming. It's about letting me watch you do it.”

Dan opened his eyes. They were slightly hazy, his cheeks flushed. Tired, but hungry.

“The pace doesn't have to be steady. Breathe in. Breathe out. Move. React.”

“I spoke slowly, almost in a whisper. ”And most importantly... don't look away.“

He focused. He stared at me as if it was something no one had ever wanted from him before. And that's why I had him exactly where I wanted him.

”I want to see your face when you come," I said calmly.

“All of it. Don’t fake it. Breathe. Give it to me.”

He pressed his lips together. And he didn't look away. His movements became short, quick, almost desperate. And then... he trembled. His body was tense as a string. The ejaculation was intense, full, silent. His face was open.

I looked at him, not breaking my own rhythm. A few more strokes, a few seconds, and I finished too. Without a word. Just breathing. Two bodies, two gazes, one moment.

For a moment, we didn’t say anything. We just looked at each other naked, spent, but not relaxed. There was something in that look that went beyond the game. Something that was starting to break it.

I leaned in. My voice was almost silent.

“It won't be as intimate with the camera. But it will be just as intense.”

I felt him hold his breath. And then I added one last sentence:

“And tomorrow... you'll learn how to feel it deeper. In your throat.”