ericrodman101
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 26, 2013
- Posts
- 7,176
Eric Ballard sat and watched the clock.
No one had opened his office door since lunch time. The phone hadn't rung. The few emails he'd received were spam. Gay porn flashed across his computer screen. Twinks and daddies. What he liked. The bell on the door would give him sufficient warning to put his cock back inside his pants.
He read the gold writing on the glass door backwards from inside. Young's Modeling Agency. Eric had never bothered to change the name to Ballard's. He bought it as Young's, the clients and the guys on his books knew it as Young's. He paid for the goodwill after all.
But business was quiet. Not just today. He could hear the traffic on Van Nuys Boulevard, heavy all day. And occasionally people on the stairs. There had been a few girls this morning. What is it with girls and modeling, Eric thought. Guys have to be coerced or kidnapped. But girls. And teenagers at that. Straight out of school. Dressed like whores, asking him about porn, opening their legs while they chatted, flashing their naked pink pussies at him. If he liked girls he could put out a shingle and fuck and film all day. But he sent them upstairs to Ray to audition. Sometimes he could hear them squealing through the floor. Eric made a mental note to ask Ray if he could watch a porn audition one day.
Porn. Maybe that was where Young's was going wrong. His books were mostly older guys. Hand models. Catalogue models. Teeth and hair models. Pharmaceuticals, shoes, hearing aids, prosthetics. Who modeled those anymore with digital art available? But was porn any more lucrative? Eric watched a lot of porn for sure, but he didn't pay for it. Free sites. Pornhub. Xhamster. Boyfriend TV was his favorite. Twinks. Bel Ami. Helix. Staxus.
The two white guys on screen were spit roasting an Asian kid. Eric's type. Slim, not muscled, glasses, nerdy. For a small guy he was taking a pounding. Eric leaned back in the office chair and let his cock sit up higher, pointing at the far wall, stroking. He came as the two daddies came, dousing the Asian kid in their copious semen, clouding the kid's nerdy glasses, coating his tongue, making him gag and spit. Eric watched his miserable effort ooze from the end of his cock and run downhill, pooling on the stained carpet under his desk.
LA had seemed such a good choice after Boise. No one knew him here and no one from Idaho was likely to find him either. He imagined some of the parents might still be looking after the little problem with the college freshmen swim team. He'd deleted the pictures like the police had directed and it never went to court. Just a caution and a strong suggestion that he leave town in a hurry.
As for Young's, well he had to do something now that sports training was unavailable, and fortuitously, it was for sale. At a knockdown price. But he knew now after three months of dwindling traffic why the price had been so low.
The bell rang on the door. He slipped his cock inside his pants and sat up straight.
"Hey Eric."
Ray from upstairs leaned round the door. Fiftyish, short, unshaven, checked shirt open halfway to the waist exposing his hairy gut.
"Can I smell cum or coffee?"
Eric gestured for his neighbor to sit opposite while he switched his computer over to the weather channel.
"Thanks for sending those girls my way this morning," Ray said. "Placed them already. Probably a block or two from here, on their backs being gangfucked up the ass as we speak. What is it with eighteen year old girls and porn?"
"Easy money?" Eric mused.
"Money for sure," Ray said. "But not much and not easy. I sent them to that place that does interracial BDSM. Big black guys, big black cocks, big black leather belts. Those little sluts won't be walking home."
Eric poured Ray a cup of coffee. The pot had been on the cooktop heating all day. It would taste like someone had poured hot water into a full ashtray, but Ray never seemed to mind. Eric made a mental note to google whether you could claim an espresso machine as a tax deduction.
"Quiet day?"
"Too quiet," Eric said. "I've been wondering if this place has any future at all."
He took a deep breath.
"Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book, Ray, and get into porn."
Ray looked at him without expression.
"Maybe you could make some introductions for me."
"Sure, Eric," Ray said after a while. "Are we talking gay? I mean, I don't want to be unfriendly, but the girls are mine, yeah?"
"Gay. For sure."
Ray gave Eric a relieved smile.
"So who you got on the books who might want to fuck on film?"
Just as a look of involuntary dejection washed across Eric's face, the bell rang on the door again.
No one had opened his office door since lunch time. The phone hadn't rung. The few emails he'd received were spam. Gay porn flashed across his computer screen. Twinks and daddies. What he liked. The bell on the door would give him sufficient warning to put his cock back inside his pants.
He read the gold writing on the glass door backwards from inside. Young's Modeling Agency. Eric had never bothered to change the name to Ballard's. He bought it as Young's, the clients and the guys on his books knew it as Young's. He paid for the goodwill after all.
But business was quiet. Not just today. He could hear the traffic on Van Nuys Boulevard, heavy all day. And occasionally people on the stairs. There had been a few girls this morning. What is it with girls and modeling, Eric thought. Guys have to be coerced or kidnapped. But girls. And teenagers at that. Straight out of school. Dressed like whores, asking him about porn, opening their legs while they chatted, flashing their naked pink pussies at him. If he liked girls he could put out a shingle and fuck and film all day. But he sent them upstairs to Ray to audition. Sometimes he could hear them squealing through the floor. Eric made a mental note to ask Ray if he could watch a porn audition one day.
Porn. Maybe that was where Young's was going wrong. His books were mostly older guys. Hand models. Catalogue models. Teeth and hair models. Pharmaceuticals, shoes, hearing aids, prosthetics. Who modeled those anymore with digital art available? But was porn any more lucrative? Eric watched a lot of porn for sure, but he didn't pay for it. Free sites. Pornhub. Xhamster. Boyfriend TV was his favorite. Twinks. Bel Ami. Helix. Staxus.
The two white guys on screen were spit roasting an Asian kid. Eric's type. Slim, not muscled, glasses, nerdy. For a small guy he was taking a pounding. Eric leaned back in the office chair and let his cock sit up higher, pointing at the far wall, stroking. He came as the two daddies came, dousing the Asian kid in their copious semen, clouding the kid's nerdy glasses, coating his tongue, making him gag and spit. Eric watched his miserable effort ooze from the end of his cock and run downhill, pooling on the stained carpet under his desk.
LA had seemed such a good choice after Boise. No one knew him here and no one from Idaho was likely to find him either. He imagined some of the parents might still be looking after the little problem with the college freshmen swim team. He'd deleted the pictures like the police had directed and it never went to court. Just a caution and a strong suggestion that he leave town in a hurry.
As for Young's, well he had to do something now that sports training was unavailable, and fortuitously, it was for sale. At a knockdown price. But he knew now after three months of dwindling traffic why the price had been so low.
The bell rang on the door. He slipped his cock inside his pants and sat up straight.
"Hey Eric."
Ray from upstairs leaned round the door. Fiftyish, short, unshaven, checked shirt open halfway to the waist exposing his hairy gut.
"Can I smell cum or coffee?"
Eric gestured for his neighbor to sit opposite while he switched his computer over to the weather channel.
"Thanks for sending those girls my way this morning," Ray said. "Placed them already. Probably a block or two from here, on their backs being gangfucked up the ass as we speak. What is it with eighteen year old girls and porn?"
"Easy money?" Eric mused.
"Money for sure," Ray said. "But not much and not easy. I sent them to that place that does interracial BDSM. Big black guys, big black cocks, big black leather belts. Those little sluts won't be walking home."
Eric poured Ray a cup of coffee. The pot had been on the cooktop heating all day. It would taste like someone had poured hot water into a full ashtray, but Ray never seemed to mind. Eric made a mental note to google whether you could claim an espresso machine as a tax deduction.
"Quiet day?"
"Too quiet," Eric said. "I've been wondering if this place has any future at all."
He took a deep breath.
"Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book, Ray, and get into porn."
Ray looked at him without expression.
"Maybe you could make some introductions for me."
"Sure, Eric," Ray said after a while. "Are we talking gay? I mean, I don't want to be unfriendly, but the girls are mine, yeah?"
"Gay. For sure."
Ray gave Eric a relieved smile.
"So who you got on the books who might want to fuck on film?"
Just as a look of involuntary dejection washed across Eric's face, the bell rang on the door again.
