Being a porn star sounds glamorous, but there’s a lot more to it than the fucking part. Promoting the Ballsy Boys is part of our contract, and that means showing up at certain events, parties, or promotional activities.

In this case, a photoshoot for a new brand of jockstraps called BB. It stands for Beautiful Booty, but since it’s also the acronym for Ballsy Boys, their marketing agency approached Bear to see if some of us wanted to take part in a photo shoot. That’s why Campy, Pixie and I are reporting at eight in the morning at some studio to have our pictures taken. Apparently, Heart wasn’t available for some reason, and they didn’t want Tank’s hairy ass. Big surprise there.

“It’s way too early,” Campy complains as we walk from the parking lot where we met up to the address, underlining the veracity of his statement with a big yawn.

“I know,” I sigh as I try to rub a sore spot in my neck. I guess I slept wrong or something, because it’s stiff. “How you doing, baby boy?” I ask Pixie whose eyes are wide open. His cheeks sport a blush, and he wipes his hands on his shorts.

“I’m a little nervous,” he confesses.

“You’ve done promotional shoots for Ballsy Boys before,” I try to reassure him.

“Joey did those. That’s different,” Pixie explains.

“It’ll be fine,” Campy says. “Brewer and I will help you if necessary.”

I ring the bell and the door is opened almost immediately by a young woman.

“Hi,” she says. “I’m Kendra, the photographer’s assistant. Come on in.”

We’re ushered inside and taken to a small room, where a photographer is busy setting up his equipment. He gives us a half wave before continuing his set-up.

Kendra hands us each two packages with the jockstraps we’re supposed to model. “There’s a changing room over there,” she points.

Minutes later, we’re dressed in colorful underwear. Pixie is wearing a baby blue one that suits him well, mine is flaming red and goes well with my tats, and Campy’s is white. The dude’s always got a tan, so it looks good on him.

When we’re done getting changed, a make-up artist is waiting for us, and we take turns sitting in his chair, getting our hair and make-up done. I hate that stuff on my face, but I know it’s a necessity for any shoot. And I have to admit, even my face looks better with make-up on.

When we’re all sufficiently painted, Kendra shows up again while the make-up guy leaves. “If you guys are ready, we’d like to do Campy first,” Kendra says. “You two can wait here.”

I frown. Why make all three of us get changed already if he’s not gonna shoot us at the same time? It’s not super cold inside the studio, but it’s not exactly comfortable in just jockstraps, either. Not that I’m gonna complain about this. Bear taught us all to be easy to work with and not show any diva behavior.

I shrug and wrap a towel around my shoulders. Pixie quickly follows my example, shivering as the AC kicks in. There’s a wooden bench in the room, and we lower ourselves on there with our backs against the cold wall.

“How was the scene with Tank?” Pixie asks.

“Explosive,” I say. “I think Rebel was pretty happy with the result.”

“Bear, too,” Pixie says. “He said you guys set the studio on fire.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Did he now? And when did you and boss-man talk about me, huh?”

That super cute blush is back, but Pixie meets my eyes. “Last Friday when we all hung out, but you weren’t there. Where were you anyway? Off to get laid, no doubt.”

I was working a late shift, but I’m not telling Pixie that. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but I really want to keep that part of my life separate from my Ballsy Boys' life. If that means they assume I’m out partying and sleeping around, so be it.

“I had to get Tank’s smell off me,” I joke.

“He’s not that bad,” Pixie says, his tone a bit defensive.

“How would you know? He’s never had a go at your ass, has he?”

Pixie’s nose crumples and he pouts. “No. Bear won’t allow it, for some reason.”

“He’s protective of you,” I say with a soft smile.

“I’m not as fragile as he thinks, you know. Or as young. He won’t let me do a DP, either.”

“Would you want that?”

“Hell, yes. You gotta try everything once, right? How else would you know what you like or love?”

He says this with such enthusiasm that I can’t help but smile. “Have you ever done a DP?” I ask him.

“No...but I’m sure I could do it. I know there have been requests from other studios and stars for shoots with me, including for DP and some kinky shit, but Bear is so freaking reluctant.”

I think I know exactly why Bear is reluctant, but that’s something they have to figure out themselves. That doesn’t mean I can’t poke the bear just a little. “If you want, I’ll do a DP with you with Campy. We’ve done them before, and we know how to make it good for you. Tell Bear that. That way, he can’t really say no.”

Pixie’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Before I know it, he’s crawled on my lap. “I’m cold,” he says apologetically.

I pull him close and wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay, baby boy.” I nuzzle his hair. “I never mind holding you.”

Pixie puts his cheek against my shoulder, and his breath tickles my skin. “Don’t you ever wish you could fall in love with someone easy? Someone like me?”

“Are you calling yourself easy?”

He slaps my chest playfully. “Not like that. I mean easy as in uncomplicated. You and me, we’d be easy together, you know? We’d have fun, share some great sex, enjoy life.”

The way he says it makes him sound far older than he is. There’s a wistfulness that touches me. “What makes you think I couldn’t fall in love with you?”

He harrumphs. “Please, don’t even try. We both know I’m so not your type.”

He’s not, but how the hell does he know that? It’s not like we don’t have chemistry, because we did a pretty hot scene together. It’s just that he’s too...too young for me, maybe? Too fragile, in a way. He needs someone to protect him and cherish and cuddle him, and that’s not me. If anything, I need someone like that myself. Not that I’ll ever find one, because all men want from me is fun and a good fuck.

“I wish you were,” I say with surprising honesty.

He lifts his head and kisses me softly on my mouth. “Me, too. But you can’t make your heart feel something it doesn’t, right? Or stop it from feeling what it does.”

We sit quietly, his slender body folded up against mine. The fact that my dick doesn’t even stir despite him sitting practically bare assed on my lap speaks volumes.

It takes a while before Campy walks in and when he does, his face is tight with anger. His eyes seek mine, but before he can say anything, Kendra walks in after him. “It’s Pixie’s turn,” she says.

Pixie slides off my lap, drops the towel on the bench, and follows her out after a quick check in the mirror to see if his hair looks okay. Kendra closes the door behind him, and as soon as she’s gone, Campy steps close. “We can’t leave him alone with that asshole. That photographer is a total creep.”

My eyes narrow. Sadly, I’ve come across my fair share of people who think that because we’re porn stars, they have free access to our bodies. I’ve had women grab my ass and even my cock without any appearance of shame, and there have been a few men as well. “What did he do?”

Campy hasn’t been in the business as long as I have, so maybe he’s overreacting to a bit of flirting? He’s not the type, though. Campy is usually cool as a cucumber, a bit aloof, even. He’s as far from a drama queen as it gets, which is why his porn name has always had an ironic flair to it.

“He grabbed my ass more than once,” Campy says and then steps even closer. “Dude, he had his finger all but in my hole. Supposedly to position me, but if I hadn’t stepped away, he would’ve…”

I don’t even wait for him to answer but grab him by his wrist. “Come with me.”

When we walk in, the guy has Pixie with his back against the wall, and our boy’s eyes are wide open like a deer in the spotlights. The photographer’s hand is on his dick, about to slip under his jockstraps.

“Hey!” I call out, red hot fury flaring up inside me. “Get your hands the fuck off of him.”

The photographer spins around, and Pixie all but sags against the wall.

“You fucking piece of shit, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I yell.

The asshole has the nerve to shrug. “I had to position his dick right. No need to create such a drama.”

I ball my fists, mentally forcing myself to keep my temper in check. “Come on, baby boy, get dressed,” I tell Pixie. “We’re leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” the photographer tells me, his face a shade whiter than before.

I jam my finger so close to his face he flinches. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do. We are leaving, and you get to explain to your client why we aborted the shoot. And be assured that we will do the same, so any crazy ideas you may have about this being our fault won’t fly.”

“Do you really think they’ll take the word of a porn star over mine?” he tries, but he knows as well as I do he’s bluffing, so I don’t even answer him. I merely turn around and stalk back to the dressing room, where Campy is helping a shaking Pixie get dressed.

Kendra hesitantly walks into the dressing room. “Look,” she starts. “I know he can be a bit of an ass…”

“A bit of an ass? Are you fucking blind?” I snap as I quickly tie my shoelaces. “This cannot be the first time he’s done something like this, considering it took him less than five minutes to get his hands down Pixie’s underwear. So I hope you’re feeling real proud of yourself right now for not speaking up.”

Campy puts a hand on my shoulder. “Back off, Brew. She could be a victim, too.”

He’s right, of course, but right now, I’m too fucking angry to find compassion. I sling my arm around Pixie, who’s still trembling, and guide him outside. “Call Bear,” I tell Campy.

“No, please don’t,” Pixie says, the first thing he’s said since I interrupted his shoot. “If you do, he’ll never let me do something like this again.”

“Baby boy, he has to know. We walked out during a shoot. We’ll have to tell him why.”

Pixie’s face looks like he’s close to bursting into tears. “He’ll never let me do anything fun ever again,” he says with a thin voice.

I’m tempted to tell him Bear is his boss, not his dad, but I don’t think now is the right time. Campy is already on the phone with Bear, and even one-sided, I can hear Bear is furious.

Poor Pixie. I think he may be right that Bear won’t let him do things like this anymore. I wish I could say I blame him, but Pixie triggers a weird protective instinct, even in me. And protective daddy is so not my usual style.

Still, I’ll see if I can persuade Bear to let me and Campy do a DP with the little imp. I haven’t done one in a while, so it could be fun. All I need to do is get those dreaded ten scenes with Tank behind me, so I have fun things to look forward to. I’ll take Pixie’s sweet ass over being pounded by that hairy grizzly bear any day.