bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

A New Story

Head Of The Class

Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X HAU
Rating: Adult NC-17
Warning: Contains very adult content. Strong language
and sexual activity of the m/m nature.
Disclaimer: I tried to buy them but they apparently
aren't for sale so I own none of the products or characters
named in this story and make no money from it.

Summary: This story was written in response to a prompt
from jeryspringrfan who wanted to see a kindergarten teacher
Xander and a porn star Spike. Hope this story is satisfactory.

Additional notes: Along with the wonderful banner, a big thanks
to the brilliant Petxnd who encouraged me and offered plot


At the director's verbal command, all action stopped. The hot, blinding
lights snapped off and the men, with the cameras aimed in unfathomable
angles, backed away.

The first to go was the one that, just seconds earlier, had been tucked
up under Spike's balls. The very balls he had spent all morning shaving
so the stubble wouldn't interfere with the zoom lens.

"That's it people. That's a wrap."

Spike sighed with relief and gratefully accepted the soft, cotton robe
that was handed to him. His back ached from the position he had
been holding for the past hour and his knees had started to cramp.

Unable to get comfortable, Spike had had to keep his legs just far
enough apart that the camera could get a clear shot of his cock as it
pistoned in and out of Angel's hole, his mouth, and finally, Spike's own
hand as he jacked off onto Angel's face.

He had to make sure that the audience would get a clear view of
everything from Spike's heavy sack, his swollen cock veins, and the
pink, sore wrinkled hole that he had been fucking for the last several days.

Including the final cum shot as he pulled out, giving the camera a good
view of Angel's gaping, stretched open hole as Spike shot a wad of
thick, creamy juice into, and around it as it slowly eased closed.

It had been a constant for days. The only time they stopped was when
they reset the angle, lights and make up, then they resumed.

There was no romance. It was not for pleasure. It was all strictly business.
A very lucrative business.
And Spike was at the top of his form.
Spike was a star.

Struggling to stand from his kneeling position, Spike groaned and rubbed
the feeling back into his calves. His sore, abused dick drooped, the last
few drops of strained release dripped from its shriveling slit, landing on
the crumpled sheets with little fan fare. Spike gingerly shook it off as if it
were piss.
His nuts were wrinkled and dehydrated.

"Wow, that was great, wasn't it? One of our best I think. Fuck, you can
still get me off harder than anyone else I ever worked with. God damn
if you ain't got the best fucking cock I've ever had pound my ass. Admit
it, you miss my tight hole, don't you."

Spike looked down at the man still lying beneath him, his face and
chest covered with spunk and spouting praise.
Liam O'Connor.
Spike just rolled his eyes and climbed off the prop bed without
answering him.

Three years ago, when Spike had first gotten into the business, he had
made the mistake of dating Liam. They met on the set of 'Sailors On
Board.' It was Spike's first costarring role as Seaman Stain and he
had not yet learned the concept of not mixing business and pleasure.

Desperate to make some money, and just days away from the looming
prospect of living under a bridge, Spike quickly found his niche as the
awol sailor on shore leave.

Liam had been the star. Admiral of the fleet. However, it hadn't taken
the director long to recognize which one of the two could keep it up
longer, get it hard faster and at the end, shoot bullets through the air.
Spike was promoted.

At first Liam had been envious. Angry that he was being upstaged by
the new guy, but, by the end of shooting, Liam was hooked.
He wanted Spike's cock for his own.
He wanted Spike for his own.

They had become a couple, hot and heavy for months, but as the heat
of summer faded and the cool winds of autumn set in, the relationship
also chilled. At least on Spike's part.

"Come on, Spike, what do you say we go to my place for something
to drink or lunch or...." Liam winked. "Whatever else comes up."

Spike wrinkled his nose in disbelief.
"Christ, Liam, I have just fucked you every which way but Sunday for
8 hours a day for the last three weeks! I'm tired. My dick is tired.
My dick and I are going to take a shower and go home. Alone.
Besides, how many times have I told you, Spike is my stage name.
Just like Angel is your's. Reality, Liam."
Spike rapped his knuckles against his own forehead.
"That's your problem. You keep confusing the set for reality."

With a final look of disgust, Will turned and walked away. When he
did, the smile and hopeful expression on Liam's face melted away and
morphed into one of anger and humiliation as his eyes darted around,
noting the snickering stage hands.

Making no attempt to cover his nudity, Liam stood, kicking the sheets
off his body, and stared hatefully at the doorway of the set where Will
had just exited. He thought about following him to the shower. He
considered demanding that Spike return to him. He thought about trying
to seduce him. Looking down at his spent, floppy asset, he reconsidered.

Filming was hot work and they always kept the set cold. Air conditioning
cranked to the max. It was not an atmosphere conducive to making a
strong impression.

With his cock now soft and spent, Liam was dismayed to see that it had
shriveled considerably in the chilled air, disappearing, retreating into
his furry nest of love.

With a sigh of defeat, he headed to the locker room, the roars of laughter
echoing behind him and the salty, drying cum running down his chin
and flaking off his thighs.

Liam shoved open the small metal door that led to what was jokingly
called a dressing room. 8X20, it had a wooden bench, a few lockers
that had been discarded by the local high school and a full length mirror
apparently designed to keep the actors humble.

Liam proceed directly to his own area and tried to ignore the men who
were preparing for the filming of the next movie about to start. He
especially hoped to be invisible to the cowboy wearing a hat, boots and
smirk that topped his full 9 inches.

"What's up, Partner?"
Lindsey, Hard Ryder, McDonald adjusted his hat and let his eyes
roam up and down Angel's body.
"Looks like ya'll been rode hard and put up wet."

Liam slammed his metal locker shut and whirled around.
"Cut the cowboy crap, Lindsey. It's been a long shoot and I'm tired."

Lindsey smiled a slow, lazy grin.
"Bet I could make it all better. Why don't you just mosey on over
to my bunk house tonight and we can have us a little pow wow."

Liam jerked his jeans up over his sweaty, crusty ass. He carefully
tucked his cock and pubic hair away from the zipper and tugged
his shirt over his head.
He was in no mood for McDonald's jokes.

"Fuck off, Lindsey. Quit playing with me."
Liam pointed his finger threateningly at the cowboy's nose then spun on
his bare feet and marched away.

Lindsey watched him go before turning toward the set, his voice low and
quiet, the false bravado disolving like a sugar cube in a hot cuppa joe.

"Who said I was playing?"
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