I wholeheartedly believe in the power of intuition. It would be hard not to, considering the upbringing I had. My mom especially embraces anything and everything alternative, from talking to trees to healing stones to dolphin therapy. It’s all good with me, honestly, even though as a kid I would have appreciated a Tylenol every now and then instead of a healing massage or acupuncture.

One thing my mom stressed is that our subconscious knows things our mind can’t rationalize yet. She taught me and my sister to take our intuition seriously, and it’s one of the bits of advice I’ve always tried to follow.

And right now, my subconscious is screaming “Hell, no!” about the guy in front of me. Bear has asked me to sit in on an interview with a possible new Ballsy Boy, a six foot two guy who uses “King” as a moniker.

I’m pretty sure it’s a not-too-subtle reference to his dick size, because the guy is packing a serious tool down there. Everyone who applies and is deemed a serious candidate by Bear is asked to send in a couple of nudes and a jerk-off video. Hey, we’re a porn studio, so checking out the goods is kinda important.

I watched his video, which was a little unimaginative but impressive because of his size. That being said, size isn’t everything in porn—as pure bottoms will be happy to point out. Sure, a ten-inch cock looks great on screen, but good luck finding bottoms willing to take that up their ass for two, three hours. They’ll do it once and then kindly refuse the honor of a repeat performance.

Bear shoots King a friendly smile. “You indicated on your application that you’re a strict top. Is that a hard limit for you, because we always prefer men who are vers?”

“Yeah, definitely. I don’t take cock. I only dish it out.” King leans back in his chair, his tight jeans outlining his definitely hard dick. “And let’s be honest, with a dick like mine, bottoming would be a waste of my natural talents, right?”

“I’m vers,” I say, perhaps a little snappier than necessary.

King sends me a condescending smile. “Sure, but from what I can tell, there’s still a sizeable difference between me and you...”

I bite back the not-so-mature words on my tongue and instead go with, “Well, as any gay man will tell you, size alone is not enough. You gotta know how to use it.”

King grins. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

Somehow, I doubt that, but call me jaded. This is not a guy who knows how to bring pleasure. This is a guy who knows how to pleasure himself above all.

“That’s nice to know,” Bear says non-committedly. “If we were to give you a shot, which one of our Boys would you pick to do a first scene with?”

King rubs his chin with his right hand. “Well, your boy Brewer has a rep for being a master cocksucker, so I’d like to see him try and swallow me. But I wouldn’t mind tapping that sweet Pixie’s ass. That kid needs to be taken hard and deep by my monster cock until that tight little ass of his is overflowing with my cum.”

If his goal was dirty talk, he’s failing, ‘cause it’s more like creepy talk to me. I have to keep myself from shivering with a giant case of the heebie-jeebies. And using Pixie was a dumb move on his part; for some reason, Bear is protective of our little imp.

The smile Bear had plastered on his face until now falters. “You do realize that even as a top, there’s some reciprocity required?” he asks, his tone distinctively cold. “We like to see our tops engage in blowjobs and rimming, for instance.”

King’s cocky attitude dims. “I’m not gay. I don’t mind sticking it in someone’s ass, especially not if they’re as hot as that little twink, but I’m not doing any ass licking or shit like that.”

Bear’s face darkens even more. “Being gay or bi is kind of a requirement for this line of work,” he says curtly.

King leans forward, his eyes suddenly cold. “Yeah? You may want to ask your boy Campy about that, ‘cause he sure as shit ain’t gay.”

Campy? What the hell is this asshole talking about? I’ve done countless scenes with him, and he’s been working for us for at least two years. How can he not be into men? He may not be gay, but if not, he’s sure as shit bi. There’s no way he’s straight.

“Look, King, or whatever your real name is, I’m not discussing private issues with my boys with you. If you are unwilling to engage in mutual satisfactory sexual acts with other boys, you’re not a good fit for our studio. It’s as simple as that. If you’re straight, I’d advise you to try your luck with one of the many, many straight porn studios in town. I’m sure one of them will hire you, considering your size and body type.”

King opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, then shuts it again. I’m not surprised. Bear is generally pretty laid back, but every now and then, he gets this tone, this authoritative, deep voice that oozes dominance, and when he does, you just have to listen. It, like, reaches deep inside you or something.

The interview is done, and King leaves, shooting daggers with his eyes. “What the hell was he talking about with Campy?” Bear asks me as soon as the douchebag has left the building.

“I honestly don’t know. Does it matter?”

Bear sighs. “Maybe.”

“You think this guy has it out for him?”

“He could. The more he talked, the more my alarm bells were going off.”

“Oh, yeah, he was a total sleazebag,” I agree.

“Look, do you think you could ask Campy? Not to confront him, but just to check, out of concern? I can’t really ask as his employer.”

“Bear, if it turns out he’s straight, are you gonna fire him?”

Bear shoots me a disapproving frown. “Of course not. What the hell do I care, as long as he performs well. I just want to know so we can protect him if need be.”

That actually makes sense. Information is power and all that shit. “I’ll ask him, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”

We discuss some upcoming shoots, and by the time I leave the studio, it’s close to dinner time. This King guy has left me highly irritated with his distaste for gay sex. Fucking asshole. Why the hell is he applying with us when he thinks gay sex is beneath him? Probably because he can’t get a job with a straight studio, I reason. Maybe because he misbehaved or something? Contrary to what many people think, most well-paying studios are quite strict in who they hire. There’s enough people willing to do porn to be selective, especially straight, vanilla porn. If you act like an asshole, they’ll toss you out. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s what happened with this dude.

And now I’m getting frustrated with myself for spending way too much time and energy on this guy. I need a little pick me up, preferably in the form of a serious good fuck. I’m not scheduled for another shoot till next week, so I have to find someone willing to have a little fun with.

I have my phone in my hand before I realize it. Troy picks up on the second ring.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey, yourself.”

There’s an awkward silence before I realize that I called him, meaning I’ll have to initiate the conversation.

“You free tonight?” I ask.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I had a crappy day, and I would love to end it on a high note. With you.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Doing what exactly?”

I frown a little. Did I misinterpret his earlier signals? I thought he was up for fooling around every now and then. Admittedly, he was a bit weird after sleeping over, but that was a week ago. Surely he’s over that by now?

Still, I take the plunge. “Well, I figured I’d stop by with some food, Chinese maybe, and we could watch a movie or something. And after that, I’d very much like to fuck you, if that would be okay with you?”

Troy chuckles. “Well, you’re certainly asking nicely. Plus, paying for dinner.”

I smile, the tension in my stomach easing. “I figured that was the least I could do in return.”

“So basically, you’re paying for sex with Chinese food.”

I laugh. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t know if that makes me a cheap lay or plain stupid. My guess is you get a whole lot more to get fucked than a Sesame chicken with white rice. But I’ll meet you at your place in, say, an hour?”

“Hey, I’ll add some fortune cookies to my offer, how’s that?” I joke. He’s coming over, which means great sex, which means my mood just rapidly improved. Plus, I’m so happy to be able to joke around about my job. Troy really doesn’t have an issue with it, it seems.

Troy laughs. “Oh, why didn’t you start with that? Dude, for fortune cookies, I’ll even throw in a blowjob!”