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Thomas’s eyes flicked across the half-finished set—crew members adjusting lights, wiping down surfaces, and taping down cables so people didn’t bust their ass tripping. His gaze landed on the clock on the far wall, his jaw tightenening. The director he was collaborating with was already late. Not exactly a surprise.
He’d first heard about Tord through Matthew, and after watching a handful of the man’s films, Tom had agreed to this little impromptu joint project. They called it “adult film” in polite company, but everyone in the business knew it was plain old porn. Tom preferred the tasteful label anyway. He’d built his reputation on it all: aesthetic lighting, proper foreplay, believable chemistry, shots that actually looked like real sex instead of just scripted fucking. It wasn’t all about hardcore moaning and fake screams. That shit had its place, sure, but he believed people got off harder when it felt like art.
Tord’s work was cruder, less polished… but the raw lust on screen was genuine. You could see it in the way bodies moved, the sweat, the desperation...Tom respected that, even if he didn’t love that Tord had starred in several of his own videos. Tom kept himself strictly behind the camera.
He’d been perched on the kitchen counter weeks ago while his roommate explained what working with Tord was like. Matthew, tall, lean-muscled, and drop-dead gorgeous with his pale freckled skin, ginger hair, androgynous style, and flawless makeup, was a pornstar who worked with Tom regularly and lived with him. He was bubbly, coy, and shamelessly flirty….as well as gossipy and snippy.
“You should give him a chance, Tom,” Matthew had said, waggling his eyebrows as he stood at the stove making a late dinner. “I know you’re all about the ‘artistry,’ but I think you two could make some seriously hot shit together.”
Tom had shrugged, eyes glued to his phone. He was watching one of Tord’s scenes—the Norwegian fucking the shit out of a blonde Russian girl who was screaming “yes, yes, yes” in broken moans that sounded real as fuck. Not exaggerated porn acting, just real desperate fucking. Tom hated fake moans and any bullshit like that. This one wasn’t fake. He could tell the girl was genuinely getting fucked senseless. He scoffed quietly and killed the video.
“I don’t know. What kind of director fucks his own talent on camera? Seems pretentious,” Tom muttered, taking a sip of his wine.
Matt rolled his eyes, hand on his hip, turning just enough for the light to catch the shimmer on his eyelids. “Oh please. You’re the most pretentious man I know. He’s got nothing on you,” he said with a smile.
Tom’s mouth twitched into a grin, eyes glinting behind his glasses. “Damn right. We don’t live in this house for nothing.”
“Mmm. Point taken.” Matt turned back to the stove for a moment, then added casually, “I shot something with him, by the way.”
Tom’s head snapped up. “Without telling me?”
Matt snickered. “Jealous?”
“Hardly. I thought you worked for me.”
“Not officially. We’re friends. It’s a favor,” Matt teased.
Tom rolled his eyes. “So the cash in your pocket is a favor too?”
Matt giggled, turning the burner down. “Fair. Anyway, he didn’t post it. He wanted your permission first.”
Tom hummed.
“Here, I’ll show you.” The tall ginger slid over and pressed their shoulders together, holding up his phone. He hit play.
The scene opened in a gym. Matt was stretching while Tord, playing the trainer, “assisted” him—hands sliding too low, cocky banter flying back and forth until they ended up in the locker room. Matt rode Tord like he was trying to fucking break him, his makeup smeared in a purposefully sexy manner while Tord spoke in that Norse tongue.
“Your makeup’s a mess,” Tom commented dryly once it ended, sitting up straighter.
Matt scowled and shoved his shoulder playfully. “That was the point, asshole. It was steamy as hell in there. But it’s good, right?”
Tom smiled despite himself. “It’s decent.” He paused, thinking. “I’ve been wanting to do a girl on girl scene with Kim. Maybe bring in that Katya girl too. They’d look good together.”
Matt lit up. “Yes! Very sexy. See? I knew you’d come around. I’ll give you his number.”
Tom just hummed, swirling the wine in his glass. “Tell him he can post it.”
..
Tom and Tord had exchanged messages and hashed out ideas, eventually agreeing on a sapphic scene. Today was the day, and right now was the time. And the bastard was late.
Tom rolled his eyes again and took another sip of his second coffee of the day, the bitterness matching his mood.
His gaze drifted over to the two blonde girls chatting in the break area. They were already hitting it off, which was exactly what he wanted for on-camera chemistry. Katya, Tord’s girl, was flirting hard, leaning in close to Kim with a gorgeous smile.
Kim was blushing pretty damn hard, pale cheeks flooding with a pretty pink. Tom had cast her for that very reason: her fair skin showed every flush beautifully under the lights.
Kim was a regular-sized girl with a sweet, girl-next-door prettiness. She had straight platinum blonde hair falling just past her shoulders, bright blue eyes, and a soft, genuine smile that made her look innocent. She wore tight low-rise jeans that hugged her hips and a baby-pink crop top that showed a sliver of her flat stomach and the subtle outline of her small, perky tits.
Katya was taller and more striking, with long, wavy golden-blonde hair that caught the light and electric green eyes that always looked piercing. Her tits were bigger and sat high and full on her frame. She’d shown up in a tight white tube top that left little to the imagination and dark low-waisted leggings that clung to her long legs like a second skin.
Tom smiled faintly, watching as Kim giggled and leaned in closer to Katya. At least the chemistry was already there. The film was going to turn out good.
Just as he pulled out his phone to text Tord about punctuality and basic professionalism, the front door swung open and In walked the son of a bitch.
Tom looked up from his director’s chair, head tilting as he took in the man appearance. Tord had a sleeper-build frame; deceptively fit under his clothes and wore a beat-up black leather jacket over a tight white tank top that showed off his chest and arms. Ripped jeans and scuffed boots completed the undoubtedly sleaze ball look. Some sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, and a cigarette dangled lazily from his lips.
God, he looked like a walking douchebag stereotype.
Tord greeted a couple of the crew with easy nods as he strolled in, then headed straight for Tom with a broad grin. Tom stood up, ready to chew him out, but Tord grabbed his hand in a firm and vigorous shake before he could speak.
“Oh, it’s such an honor to finally meet you, Thomas. I love your films,” Tord said, his thick Norwegian accent rolling out exactly like it did in his videos. Accents like that played well on camera.
Tom forced a tight smile, wincing at the crushing grip before pulling his hand back. He waved away the plume of cigarette smoke blown straight into his face. “We don’t really allow smoking on set,” he commented.
Tord blinked, then tilted his head with a condescending grin. “Oh? My apologies. Then you must also not allow drinking, yes?” He nodded pointedly at the metal flask tucked into the waistband of Tom’s black jeans.
Tom’s lips thinned. “Right. Anyway… you’re five minutes late.”
Tord snorted. “That’s not late. Besides, I gave the girls a little extra time to get to know each other.” He glanced over Tom’s shoulder. “And look at that.”
Before Tom could react, Tord grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. The two blondes were already sharing a lingering kiss.
Tord whistled low near Tom’s ear. “Wow. That Kim is a looker. You picked her?”
Tom stepped out of Tord’s grip. “I scouted her. Katya’s pretty too,” he returned dryly.
“Well of course she is. I don’t keep ugly girls,” Tord grinned, dragging on his cigarette again while openly raking his eyes up and down Tom’s body.
Tom rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Right. Can we get on with the script? I don’t want to be here all night.”
Tord laughed brightly and threw a heavy arm around Tom’s shoulders, this time holding on when Tom tried to shrug him off. “Oh, my friend, staying late is the best part. We’ll all be delirious by the end… but at least we’ll have a five-star porno on our hands.” He started steering Tom toward the set.
Tom grunted but didn’t bother fighting the touch. He had a feeling this kind of behavior was going to be constant tonight.
After Tom passed around the scripts to the girls and other members who had input on it, he started giving a broad explanation.
“Alright, we’re keeping it basic: an oldie but a goodie,” Tom said, sipping his coffee while scanning his script notes. “College roommates coming back from a house party. Kim, you’re the innocent virgin. Katya, you’re the player who’s been trying to get in her pants for months. We’re flipping the usual dynamic by making it two girls. I want you both to put your own spin on it. Kim, you—”
“Actually, if I may,” Tord interrupted, then glanced at Tom with a polite smile, waiting for permission.
Tom gritted his teeth for a second but nodded. It was a collaboration, after all.
“I think it would add a nice touch if we give Kim a religious angle,” Tord continued. “Sweet little Christian girl who’s never even felt another woman’s hands on her.”
Kim giggled from where she sat on the bed. Katya nudged her playfully.
“My Katya’s going to be the corruptor,” Tord added, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. “Kat, I want you to make her melt. Show her the proper way to fuck a woman for the first time. Make it so good she’ll never go back to that ‘saving it for marriage’ bullshit. Yeah?”
Katya smirked and squeezed a hand over Kim’s thigh. “Will do,” she purred, her Russian accent thick and smooth.
Tom considered it. It was a little on the nose, but it worked. Most religious types weren’t exactly their target audience anyway. He nodded. “That’s good. Kim, honey, you good playing into that?”
Kim nodded, cheeks already blooming that pretty shade of pink he loved on camera.
“Great. Let’s do a test take. Girls, go pick out outfits and we’ll start.”
The two blondes headed to the clothing rack. Tord, of course, followed and immediately took over like he was an expert kn the wardrobe department. Surprisingly, he wasn’t just being a weird perv, he actually knew what he was doing. He pulled pieces that flattered their bodies and skin tones perfectly.
For Katya he chose low-rise, heavily ripped and bleached jeans that hung off her hips, showing off the bright pink thong underneath. A sparkly belly chain dangled from her navel, catching the light with every move. Her top was a sheer baby-blue baby tee with a tiny graphic on the front, tight enough to push her tits up nicely while clearly showing the black lacy bra underneath. She finished it with a chunky silver belt, layered necklaces, and big hoop earrings. Her long golden waves were clipped half-up with a glittery claw clip.
Kim had originally reached for a short pleated skirt, but Tord gently steered her away.
“No, no, baby,” he chided, digging through the rack. He pulled out soft heather-gray foldover yoga pants that sat low on her hips and a fitted long-sleeve white henley. Underneath he layered a delicate lace camisole so the pretty trim peeked out at the neckline. “See? This fits your innocent church girl vibe. A good girl wouldn’t be showing off her ass in a tiny skirt… at least not right away,” he teased.
Kim giggled again, clearly enjoying his shameless flirting.
Tord adjusted the henley so it sat just right on her small chest, then nodded. “We’ll put your hair in a cute half-up style, add some glasses, and that simple silver cross necklace. You wearing the lacy panties underneath?”
Kim smiled and nodded.
“Perfect,” Tord grinned. “Throw on those pink Uggs and you’re set.”
Once the girls were dressed, they moved into position so the crew could adjust the lighting. Tom studied them under the lights and felt a silent satisfaction. The contrast worked beautifully: Katya looked like trouble, while Kim looked soft and sweet. It made the idea of Katya slowly peeling her out of those layers even hotter.
“What do you think?” Tord asked, clearly fishing for praise as he dropped into the chair next to Tom. “Cute, right?”
Tom rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yeah, they look good.” He paused, then added dryly, “Didn’t know you knew so much about women’s fashion.”
“You have to if you work in this industry,” Tord said, not deterred by Tom’s sarcasm.
Tom smirked. “But you can’t dress yourself?” he quipped, eyeing Tord’s beat-up leather jacket and ripped jeans before turning to speak with the lighting guys.
He heard Tord sputter in confusion behind him and grinned a little to himself.
After the crew finished adjusting the lights, Tom moved on to reviewing the script with Kim and Katya, making sure they were comfortable with the dialogue and any boundaries. He sat on the edge of the bed between them, flipping through the pages.
He was painfully aware of Tord sitting way too close on his right, the man’s thigh practically pressed against his, the heat of him impossible to ignore.
“So, Katya, toward the end I want you to make Kim squirt if you can. We have toys if you need them,” Tom said, adjusting his glasses as his eyes scanned the page.
Katya flashed a proud smile. “Oh, I don’t need toys.”
“She learned from the best, after all,” Tord murmured, his voice low and far too close to Tom’s ear.
Tom shifted away slightly and shot him a glare. “Good to know,” he said, turning back to Katya. “Authentic is better anyway. Though a sequel with toys could be fun.”
Tord leaned forward a bit. “Kimmy,” he addressed warmly, “how do you like to be fucked?”
Kim flushed instantly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and glancing at Katya. “Um… I like it from behind,” she admitted, smoothing her hands over her leggings.
Tord tilted his head, listening like he had all the time in the world. “But?”
Kim smiled shyly, cheeks burning. “…But I like missionary more. I know it’s kinda boring for the camera—”
“Don’t worry about the camera angles,” Tord cut in, his attention fully on her. His tone was flirty but attentive, even kind of gentle. “We need you comfortable and feeling good. Why do you like missionary?”
Tom watched the exchange quietly. Kim was usually shy as hell around new people, yet here she was opening up without much hesitation. He had to admit, Tord was smooth with the talk.
“I like making out while it’s happening,” Kim said softly, “and… it just feels deeper that way.”
Katya looked thrilled upon hearing that.
Tord grinned. “Missionary it is, then.” As he spoke, his hand slid onto the small of Tom’s back, palm warm through the thin fabric of his shirt. His thumb brushed just under the hem where Tom’s shirt had ridden up, grazing bare skin for a brief second before pulling away like it was nothing.
Tom jerked slightly at the contact.
Tord met his eyes, silver gaze visible over the edge of his sunglasses. “Sound good to you, Thomas?”
Tom pushed Tord’s hand off his back with a firm shove to his annoyingly solid shoulder. “Missionary works. My camera guys are good—feel free to move around, change positions as needed,” he told the girls.
Both blondes nodded, clearly excited.
They started with several run-throughs of the opening scene, focusing on natural-sounding dialogue and body language. Katya had taken a couple of shots of whatever they had laying around beforehand to loosen up and really sell the drunk roommate vibe. The setup was simple but really effective: Kim had gone to pick her up from the party because she didn’t want her driving tipsy. Now she was helping a handsy, flirtatious Katya up the stairs and into their shared apartment.
Tom watched them closely from behind the monitors during the third take, occasionally calling out small adjustments. He still wasn’t satisfied.
After the fifth take, he heard a loud, dramatic sigh from his right. He turned and raised an eyebrow at Tord.
“Yes?”
Tord exhaled a puff of smoke from his third cigarette and slumped back in his chair. “Don’t you think we have enough of these takes? We need to move on to the actual sex.”
Tom shook his head. “No. It still doesn’t feel right yet. Besides, you said you wanted to be here all night.”
Tord rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I didn’t plan on spending it filming a fucking intro. Most people skip this part and go straight to the fucking where they can actually get off.”
Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, offended. “That isn’t true. Plenty of people enjoy the buildup just as much as the sex. Don’t you understand tension?” He glanced back at the set. “Slow-burning tension is the best kind. It creates suspense. You don’t know who’s going to make the first real move, or when, or how far it’s going to go…” He muttered, squinting at the girls. “Besides, it builds the relationship. I don’t make Pornhub shorts.”
Tord scoffed. “I get tension. I just prefer mine shorter and closer to the actual sex.”
“Cut!” Tom called out, standing up.
The cameras stopped. Kim and Katya paused, both turning toward him. Kim looked a little anxious, brows furrowed. “Is it me? I feel like I’m being stiff.”
Tom stepped onto the set, shaking his head. “Not just you. The whole thing still feels too staged.” He looked between them. “Katya, you’re acting a little too sloppy. I need buzzed and horny, not blackout. Lean on her more, get in her space. Breathe on her neck, let your hands wander like you’re too drunk to care about boundaries. Be bold.”
He turned to Kim. “And you’re being too gentle and understanding. You’re frustrated she got this drunk again, but you still care about her. There should be some push and pull. You’re trying to be the responsible one while she’s all over you. Let yourself react naturally—get flushed, breathe heavier, but don’t give in too easily. Make her work for it.”
Tom paused his monologue, thinking for a second. “Let’s try this. Katya, when you get her inside the apartment, push her up against the wall—not too hard, just a light shove. Get your thigh between her legs and ask her when she’s finally going to let you take care of her for once. Kim, hesitate. Touch her but then pull your hands back. Play up that good-girl nervousness.”
Kim nodded, cheeks already turning pink. Katya smirked, clearly excited by the new direction. “Okay.”
Tord, still lounging in his chair with his cigarette, muttered just loud enough for Tom to hear, “There we go. Now it’s getting interesting.”
Tom shot him a look but didn’t respond. He stepped back behind the monitors. “Alright. Reset. Action.”
.
Katya stumbled slightly on the last step, laughing under her breath as she draped herself heavily against Kim’s side. Her arm was slung around the smaller girl’s shoulders, fingers lazily playing with the ends of Kim’s hair. The scent of alcohol and sweet perfume clung to her as she leaned in, lips brushing dangerously close to Kim’s ear.
“You’re always saving me…” Katya murmured, her Russian accent thicker and huskier. She pressed her face into the side of Kim’s neck, breathing warm against her skin. “Such a good girl.”
Kim’s breath hitched, her face pinching. She tried to keep them both steady as she fumbled with the apartment door. “You’re such a handful when you drink, Katya. I told you not to go so hard tonight.”
Katya only giggled, the sound low. As soon as they were inside, she kicked the door shut behind them and spun Kim around, pushing her back against the wall with surprising coordination for someone who was supposed to be drunk. Her thigh slid between Kim’s legs, pressing up firmly against her core through the soft gray leggings.
Kim’s hands flew up instinctively, gripping Katya’s shoulders. “Katya—”
“When are you gonna let me take care of you for once, hmm?” Katya purred, lips grazing along Kim’s jaw. One of her hands wandered under the hem of Kim’s henley, fingers tracing the lace edge of the camisole and brushing warm skin. “You’re always so sweet… so proper. Makes me want to ruin you a little.”
Kim’s cheeks burned bright red. She let out a shaky breath, one hand twitching like she wanted to push Katya away but couldn’t quite make herself do it. Instead her fingers curled tighter into Katya’s sheer top. “You’re drunk,” she whispered, but her voice had gone breathy and uncertain.
“Not drunk enough to lie,” Katya replied, pressing her thigh up a little harder, a smirk on her lips. She leaned in like she was going to kiss her, stopping just short so their breaths mixed. “Tell me you don’t want it…”
Tom watched intently, arms crossed. The tension was finally there; the hesitation, the slow burn, the way Kim’s body was reacting even while her good-girl persona tried to fight it.
From beside him, Tord let out a low whistle. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he muttered, leaning closer so his shoulder brushed Tom’s.
Tom didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened as he kept his eyes on the monitors.
Katya’s hand slid further up under Kim’s shirt, fingertips grazing the underside of her small breast through the thin lace. Kim shivered visibly.
“Cut!” Tom called.
Both girls paused, breathing a little heavier than before when they parted. Kim was flushed down to her neck and Katya was grinning like she’d already fucked her brains out.
Tom nodded slowly, a rare look of satisfaction crossing his face. “Much better. That’s the energy we needed.” He glanced at Tord. “See? Tension.”
Tord grinned, his hand casually brushing the small of Tom’s back again as he leaned in. “Mmm. Keep directing like that, and I might actually enjoy sitting through the whole night.”
Tom scoffed quietly. “Uh huh.” He didn’t push Tord’s hand away right away despite himself. The warm pressure lingered against his lower back for several long seconds before Tom finally stepped aside.
“I’m getting another coffee,” he muttered, heading toward the break area.
Thomas walked over to the snack station and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, adding a generous splash of Biscoff creamer before spiking it with a shot of vodka from his flask. He glanced discreetly over his shoulder.
Tord had already ditched his leather jacket, now just wearing that tight white tank top that clung to his solid frame. A tribal tattoo wrapped around one thick bicep. He was chatting with the girls, ashing his cigarette while they giggled at whatever he was saying. Tom rolled his eyes and took a sip. The man really did have everyone wrapped around his finger with that charm. Still, Tom had to admit —the ideas Tord brought to the table were actually good. Their visions were clicking better than he expected.
His eyes lingered a second longer on the way the tank stretched across Tord’s chest before he looked away.
Tord eventually wandered back over and they started discussing the transition into the next scene. The mention of actual foreplay immediately lit a spark in him.
“Alright girls, we’re in the kitchen now,” Tord explained, pacing energetically. “Katya, you lift her onto the counter, maybe push her up against the cabinets, knock some shit over. It’ll look good.”
Tom stood back and let him run with it for a moment. Tord demonstrated with Kim—first gently lifting her onto the counter with a soft plop. Kim giggled.
Tord shook his head, grinning . “That’s what we don’t want. Too gentle.” He stepped in again, starting the scene over and crowding Kim’s space aggressively, grabbed her waist with both hands and hoisted her up onto the counter with a solid thud, shoving himself between her legs and pushing her back into the cabinets. Kim let out a surprised yelp.
Tom raised an eyebrow. The demonstration was a bit extra, but it made the point. “He’s right. You’re drunk, Katya. You’re not being careful. Get rough with her—Kim likes it like that.”
Katya grinned and gave a thumbs up. They reset.
The cameras started rolling again.
The girls picked up right where they left off: kissing sloppily while they stumbled through the kitchen, mouths barely separating as Katya backed Kim toward the counter. Suddenly Katya grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, slamming her ass onto the counter with some real damn force. Kim yelped into the kiss, legs instinctively spreading around Katya’s hips. The impact knocked over a couple of plastic cups that clattered loudly on the floor.
Katya kissed her harder now that they were the same height, one hand sliding up under Kim’s henley, squeezing one of her small breasts through the lace camisole. Kim squeaked, breaking the kiss just enough to gasp out her line, voice shaky and beautifully genuine:
“I’ve… I’ve never been with a girl before. Or anyone.” She batted her eyelashes.
Katya paused, breathing hard, then let a coy smile pull on her lips slowly. She dipped her head and dragged her tongue up the side of Kim’s neck. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”
They let the moment breathe a little longer before Tom finally called it.
“Cut! That was great, girls,” Tom said, nodding approvingly. He glanced over at Tord. “Good call on the lift. Looked a lot more natural.”
Tord, who had been mid-motion reaching for his pack of cigarettes, froze for a second. His cocky smirk faltered a little and a flash of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by a faint but obvious flush across his cheeks. He looked caught off guard, almost embarrassed by the simple, direct praise.
He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… thanks,” he replied.
Tom turned away before the moment could stretch any longer and took another sip of his spiked coffee.
They ran that scene a few more times just to be safe, giving Tom options in the editing room. Surprisingly, Tord didn’t complain once.
Eventually, they moved on to the actual sex. The girls were given a proper break to eat and let their food settle, and Tom decided to do the same because a man needs to nosh. The spiked coffee had left him with a sweet tooth, so he hovered near the snack table, loading a plate with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, some grapes, and a few other bites.
He was perfectly content eating alone, but of course the guy who’d been pestering him all day wasn’t going to let him have a moment of peace.
Tom was mid-bite into a strawberry when the Norwegian strolled up beside him and casually grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl.
“It’s looking good,” Tord said. “This sex is gonna be killer.”
Tom chewed faster than he wanted to; now having to talk and eat at the same time, the sweet-tart flavor was ruined by having to rush. He swallowed hard, licked the juice from his lips, and nodded. “Yeah… it is.” He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth, hoping that would be the end of it.
“So you like it rough?” Tord asked.
Tom swallowed the burning liquid, eyebrow twitching. “Excuse me?”
Tord smiled, peeling the banana slowly. “The scene. You think it looks better when Katya gets rough with her.”
Tom eyed him for a long moment, watching the man take a big, deliberate bite of the banana. He curled his lip slightly. “Desperation looks good on camera,” he answered flatly.
“So do I,” Tord replied quickly, chewing with a lazy grin.
Tom picked up another strawberry, unimpressed. “That’s nice.”
He turned on his heel and started walking away, plate in one hand and coffee in the other, eager to put some distance between himself and whatever the hell that attempt at flirting was supposed to be. They picked the scene back up after the break. The girls were still buzzing with good energy as the cameras rolled again.
Katya soon had Kim pinned against the kitchen counter, mouths crashing together in a messy kiss, their hands roaming frantically over each other. Katya yanked Kim’s henley up and over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Kim fumbled with Katya’s sheer top, nearly ripping it in her hurry. They stumbled toward the bedroom, tripping over their own feet and shedding clothes along the way. There was a little struggle with Katya’s bra coming undone, and Kim ended up popping the clasp and breaking it, but Tom left it because he thought it was a cute addition.
By the time they reached the bedroom, both girls were down to just their panties. Katya shoved Kim onto the bed and crawled over her, kissing her hard.
“Cut for a second,” Tom called. “Katya, lose the thong sooner. I want skin on skin faster once you’re on the bed.”
They reset quickly and rolled again.
This time the shot looked right. Katya pulled Kim’s lacy panties down her legs and threw them aside. She settled between Kim’s thighs in missionary, like discussed, exactly how Kim had wanted. Their mouths moved together, slow at first so they could get a good shot of it. Katya slid two fingers through Kim’s folds, rubbing her clit in slow circles before pushing inside. Kim moaned eagerly, her slender hips twitching up to meet Katya’s hand.
“Fuck… Katya—” Kim whimpered, voice breaking as Katya curled her fingers and started thrusting deeper. The wet sounds of her fingers pumping in and out filled the room. Kim’s small tits bounced slightly with every thrust, nipples hard. She grabbed at Katya’s back, nails digging in, moaning between breathy gasps.
Tord shifted in his chair beside Tom. Tom glanced over and immediately noticed the bulge straining against the front of Tord’s ripped jeans. The Norwegian was straight up hard, the thick outline twitching once as he watched the girls.
Tom scoffed under his breath. “Really? That’s so unprofessional.”
Tord shrugged, not even trying to hide it. He adjusted himself casually with one hand. “What? I cannot control it. You put two hot girls fucking right in front of me and expect me to stay soft? I’m only human, Thomas.” He explained, as if it were common sense.
Tom rolled his eyes and turned back to the monitors, ignoring the disgraceful warm prickle that ran down his spine when he caught another glimpse of Tord’s dick twitching against the denim. He told himself it was just the vodka he’d mixed in his coffee, nothing more. He was way too selective to be attracted to an ass like Tord.
On the bed, Katya kept fingering Kim through it, whispering little encouragements until Kim came hard with a whine, her milky thighs shaking at Katya’s sides.
After she came down, they switched. Kim looked a perfect mix of nervous and eager for the camera as she moved between Katya’s legs. Katya spread her thighs wide, golden hair fanned out on the pillow, and guided Kim’s head down with a manicured hand threaded through pin-straight strands.
“Just like that… use your tongue on my clit, baby. Slow circles first,” Katya instructed, voice husky. Her hand stayed in Kim’s hair, guiding her. “Good girl… fuck, just like that. Now suck a little—ah, yes.”
Kim was a quick learner. Soon she had Katya moaning and grinding against her face, hips rolling sloppily. Katya’s tits heaved as she panted, one hand gripping the sheets while the other kept Kim right where she wanted her. The sounds recorded were purposefully wet: Kim’s skilled tongue sliding through slick folds, Katya’s low groans, and the occasional muffled whimper from Kim.
And after that, they kept going, switching positions naturally with each other to give the camera loads of different angles. Tom’s favorite was probably when Katya was riding Kim’s face for a while before flipping her onto all fours and fingering her again from behind.
Katya pulled Kim back up, flipped her onto her back again, and shoved her thighs wide open. She pushed three fingers deep inside her this time, thrusting hard and fast while rubbing her clit with her thumb. Kim’s moans turned into a slurry of squeals.
“Oh my goddddkatya— fuck, I’m gonna—”
Katya kept fucking her fingers in that perfect spot, leaning close to the girl’s face to peck her wet lips affectionately. Kim’s whole body suddenly tensed hard, back arching off the bed as she came again, and this time around, Katya scored, because Kim was squirting around her fingers with a shriek. Clear fluid soaked the sheets and Katya’s hand as Kim cried out, thighs shaking uncontrollably.
Katya kept stroking her through it with an infatuated grin, slowing down only when Kim started twitching from overstimulation.
“Cut!” Tom finally called. “That’s good. Really good.”
The girls collapsed together on the bed, breathing hard and giggling softly between heavy breaths.
Tom stared at the monitors for a second longer than necessary, jaw tight. He could still feel that unwelcome warmth low in his stomach. He blamed the vodka again.
After that scene break, Tom wanted a few more shots of foreplay in case they needed anything to bridge transitions during editing. Or maybe he just wanted extra footage. Either way, nobody argued. They also filmed a handful of additional makeout scenes in areas they hadn’t used yet, along with some dialogue-heavy clips and other filler material.
By the time midnight rolled around, Thomas finally called it. The crew immediately started packing up, eager to get the fuck out of there and head home. Tom still lingered by the main camera, sifting through the footage they’d gathered throughout the day while people moved around him, hauling equipment and breaking down the set. Kim and Katya disappeared into the bathroom to clean up and change into something more comfortable.
He gave a few instructions regarding the heavier equipment before noticing someone approaching. And of course, it was Tord. The man stood a few feet behind him, looking like he was waiting for an opening in the conversation.
Thomas sighed quietly. His eyes flicked down just long enough to confirm that Tord wasn’t hard anymore. Well. Not completely. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day, he turned back to the crew.
“You can throw those in the back of the van. Just be careful with them. Then you’re free to go.”
He waved a hand dismissively before returning his attention to the camera. A glance to the side found Tord still standing there.
“Yes?”
Tord smiled and stepped closer, peering down at the screen. “I just wanted to see the footage. We both made this, remember?”
Tom sniffed. “…Of course.”
He lifted the camera slightly so Tord could see better, scrolling through different clips. He could feel the Norseman gradually inching closer, disguising it as an attempt to get a better look. Thomas said nothing, keeping his eyes on the screen.
“Our girls get along well, yes?” Tord asked.
Tom nodded absently. By the way they’d been fucking on camera, he’d already come to that conclusion.
Tord snorted and patted his shoulder. “No, look. They actually like each other.”
He nodded toward Kim and Katya across the room. The two women had already packed up and were standing near the exit, apparently exchanging phone numbers.
Huh. “Yes, I suppose they do.”
His eyes drifted back down to the footagte.
“They aren’t the only ones.”
That made Tom look up. “The only ones who what?”
Tord stepped around so he was fully in view. “The only ones who like each other.”
Thomas barked out a laugh. “Oh, please.”
Tord placed a hand over his chest in mock offense, though the grin breaking across his face ruined the act. “Oh, no?”
Tom gave him a flat look. “No.”
“Mhm. If you say so.”
Tom ignored that last press, continuing to scroll through the footage until Tord spoke again.
“I was thinking, maybe we need a few more outtakes. Bonus shots for special payment.”
Tom tilted his head. “We have enough money shots already. Plus, everything we just recorded.”
Tord shook his head. “Not what I mean.”
“Then spit it out,” Thomas sighed, having little patience for the man’s dancing around the point.
“Well, ‘thanking the director’ scenes are very in right now.”
“Absolutely not,” Tom said immediately.
“What, not into chicks?”
“That’s none of your business. I just don’t have sex with my girls, or anyone who works for me, for that matter,” Tom clarified firmly.
Tord smiled. “Not even people you work with?”
“Especially not.”
Tord shrugged, feigning defeat. “Okay. Well, for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed filming with you today. Despite how nitpicky and uptight you are.”
His hand wandered to the fabric of Tom’s button-up, only to be smacked away.
“I’m not uptight. I just take this seriously.”
“Yeah. Uptight.” Tord nodded. “It’s porn. It’s supposed to be fun. Let your imagination run free and shit.” The Norseman remained draped over the back of Tom’s chair.
“Are you going somewhere with this?” Thomas finally asked. He stood up, putting some distance between himself and the man’s body heat while turning off the camera and closing the lens cover.
“I was just wondering what you’d look like on camera.”
Tom turned to face him, one eyebrow arching. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Tord stepped closer again, gently taking the camera from Tom’s hands and setting it aside. By now, everyone else had cleared out, leaving only the two of them to finish packing up. Alone. “It means…” Tord looked down at him. “I want to have sex with you. And I think you want to have sex with me too.”
A surprised laugh escaped Tom. “You’re kidding.” He crossed his arms. “You think that’s what I want? What gave you that impression?”
Tord shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m good at reading people.”
“Not me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Tom sneered and turned away, grabbing a bundle of cables. He took a quick breath to steady himself. He did not want to have sex with this man.
“You’re not even curious?”
“I’ve seen plenty of your videos through Matt. And every other video you’ve starred in, which is all of them.”
Tord grinned. “Oh, you liked those though, yes? Matthew said you approved posting them.”
“Yeah, because they’re going to make money and I’m getting a cut of it.” Tom glanced over his shoulder before returning to his work.
Tord hummed and lazily followed him around the room. “Matthew is great. You friends?”
Tom sighed, tightening his grip on the cable. “Roommates. And yes, friends.”
“And he works for you?”
“Sort of. He does his own thing.”
“So he works with you.”
“I guess.”
Tord looked amused. “Have you had sex with him?”
“That is, once again, none of your business.”
Tom wasn’t particularly private about his sex life, but he had forgotten he’d already claimed he didn’t sleep with people he worked with. Tord had nearly caught him in a contradiction, though thankfully the man didn’t seem aware of it. So Tom dodged.
“Well, he told me you’re awfully stingy about who you sleep with.” Tord continued trailing after him.
“After we had sex, I asked about you. I was curious. Then he showed me a picture, and I knew I wanted to jump your bones.”
Thomas could feel heat creeping into his face. He was mostly annoyed by how persistent Tord was being. But he could also kind of feel his resistance and ‘above it’ attitude starting to wear down. Tom had noticed that despite all the douchebaggery, Tord was still a fine piece of ass, and he knew how to use that shit.
“I don’t need to know this shit,” Tom cut in, glaring over his shoulder.
“It’s context.” The Norseman grinned. “Anyway, as I said, he told me you’re picky. So I knew I’d have to impress you. I even asked him for tips, since apparently, you’ve slept with him.”
Tom could hear the smile in his voice. Fucking Matthew. Always willing to spill his business to any handsome face that fucked him well. The Brit groaned and dragged a hand through his pinned-back hair. “It was a one-time thing.”
“If ‘one time’ means every time you get tipsy,” Tord countered.
Tom facepalmed. “It’s different. Matt’s my friend.”
“We can be friends.”
“We’re not going to be friends,” Tom dismissed, bending down to grab a spindle for wrapping cords.
“You want to be more than friends?” Tord’s voice suddenly brushed against his ear.
Tom jumped, knocking into him and bumping their heads together. “Jesus Christ,” Clutching his chest, he leaned against a folding table and set down the wrapped cord. “Listen. I’m not going to have sex with you just because we made a good film together and you’re a decent director.”
Tord furrowed his brows dramatically. “Decent? I think I’m a little better than that.” He stepped closer.
“Fine. Mediocre.” Tom adjusted his insult and leaned back on his hands, watching Tord advance.
“Better.” Tord grinned.
“Anyway, it’s not just that. It’s okay to want to have sex with someone you just met. It’s fun.” He took another step. “And besides, you aren’t really dodging me.”
Tom noticed that himself.
Tord kept getting closer, and this time he wasn’t backing away.
“You’ve cornered me,” Tom muttered.
“No, I haven’t.” Tord’s smile widened. “You like acting clueless. Matt said that too.” He stepped into Tom’s space, close enough that their thighs brushed. “How about, instead of having sex, I give you a little personal attention?”
Tom grimaced. There was nowhere to hide now, and in the worst possible timing, he felt his cheeks starting to burn. The blotchy flush gave away his true feelings instantly.
“You’re blushing,” Tord called out immediately, a pleased grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
“No, I’m not. It’s… hot in here,” Tom lied pointlessly, straightening up in a pathetic attempt to salvage some dignity. He was absolutely going to blame this on Matt later. He was doing fine up until this point.
Tord stepped closer, pushing between Tom’s thighs and spreading them wider with his hips. “Sure. If that makes you feel better,” he chuckled, head tilting. “So? What do you say? Favor for favor?”
Tom grunted, more heat crawling up his neck now that his façade had cracked. “Who said I was agreeing to that?” he muttered, watching as Tord slowly sank down anyway. God dammit.
Apparently, Tom wasn’t immune to the bastard’s charm either.
Tord shrugged, now eye-level with Tom’s crotch. “You don’t have to return the favor. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” he grinned, leaning in like he was going for a kiss.
Tom dodged fast, slapping a hand over Tord’s mouth. “No kissing.” That single rule was as good as an agreement, and they both knew it.
He felt Tord grin against his palm before the man dragged his tongue across it. Tom yanked his hand back, feigning disgust. “Jackass.”
“I know,” Tord said smugly. “I can kiss down here though, right?” He asked coyly as he dropped fully to his knees, hands sliding up Tom’s thighs and tugging at the waistband of his jeans
.
Tom could tell Tord wanted him to ask for it, to beg even a little. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “If you want to get your dick kicked, sure.”
Tord’s grin widened. “Then yes.”
He hooked his fingers into Tom’s jeans and tugged. Tom hesitated for half a second, then lifted his hips just enough to let him pull them down to mid-thigh, black boxers going with them.
Tord didn’t pull the boxers down immediately. Instead, he leaned in and mouthed at Tom’s cunt right over the fabric, wetting the cotton with the broad of his tongue. Tom shuddered hard, a low sound escaping him as the man’s tongue pressed against his labia through the thin material.
“Nggh—what the hell are you doing?” Tom muttered.
When Tord didn’t answer, Tom grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. “Hey. Get on with it. I don’t want someone walking in on this,” he hissed.
Tord looked surprised for a moment, then smirked. “Aw, come on. You’re the one who was preaching about foreplay earlier.” He leaned in again and licked a slow stripe up the inside of Tom’s thigh.
Tom sneered and yanked his hair again, equal parts annoyed and turned on by how Tord was dancing around his rules. “Just hurry up,” he ordered, reaching down himself to shove both jeans and boxers further down his thighs, exposing himself completely.
Tord allowed himself a moment to just stare, eyes dark as he took in the sight of Tom’s naked lower half like he was committing that shit to detail. Tom gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to close his legs.
“Tord,” he said — probably the first time he’d used the man’s name all day. That finally snapped Tord into motion.
He leaned in with zero hesitation and buried his face between Tom’s thighs. The first broad stroke of his tongue dragged over Tom’s labia, catching the sensitive inner folds before pressing up firmly against the underside of his clit. Tom gasped, hips jerking forward on instinct. Tord continued, licking again and again in long, confident strokes, then dipping lower, pushing his tongue inside Tom’s entrance, fucking him with it in shallow thrusts.
“Fuck,” Tom panted, one hand flying into Tord’s hair, gripping the messy auburn strands tight.
Tord hummed against him, the vibration making Tom’s thighs tremble. He pulled back just enough to drag his tongue back up, latching onto Tom’s clit with focused sucks while his thumb pulled the hood back. The stubble on his chin scraped deliciously against Tom’s wet folds with every movement, adding a rough edge that made Tom’s breath stutter. He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected Tord to be this good. He’s seen the man eat people out…why did he think he’d be immune to raw skill?
Tom’s head fell back as he rocked against Tord’s mouth, grip tightening in his hair like reins, riding his face. “Hh— haaa, holy fuck…”
Tord managed to get free from Tom’s iron grip, pulling back just enough to grin, lips shiny and chin wet. “Not so bad, eh?”
Tom tried to regain some control, breathing hard and wiping his forehead with his forearm, adjusting his glasses. “It’s okay,” he lied through his teeth. “Stand up.”
Tord appeared caught off guard by Tom actually participating, but he stood quickly regardless of that. His dick was straining hard against his jeans, the outline just begging for some loving. Who could resist?
Tom purposefully didn’t look at his face. Cheeks burning, he grabbed Tord by the belt and made quick work of it, dragging him closer by the hem of his jeans before popping the button and dragging the zipper down. Tord’s dick sprang out, flushed a pretty red that Tom observed; coming to the understanding that he did indeed have a perfect dick up close, too. He muttered a quiet “Of fucking course,” under his breath.
“Picture perfect, isn’t it?” Tord asked with a conceited smile.
Tom scowled. “You ruin it with that ego.” He reached out and cupped the man’s length, testing its weight. He noticed Tord was completely shaved, the smooth skin warm under his fingers. “Did you actually wax?”
“Yeah. Just for this occasion,” Tord flirted, rocking his hips forward just slightly so the head of his cock would brush against Tom’s cunt.
Tom stopped him with a firm hand to the stomach. “Ah, no. If we’re doing this, it’s by my rules.”
Tord’s cheeks warmed visibly, a small grin forming on his lips. “…Yes, sir.”
Tom scoffed at that, but his fingers stayed wrapped around Tord’s cock. He stroked almost analytically, thumb slowly brushing over the head, tracing the vein underneath, teasing more than properly jerking him off. He listened to Tord’s breathing grow heavier.
Then, against his own better judgment, Tom tugged Tord closer by the front of his tight tank top. He straightened up, leaned in, and kissed him experimentally. When he decided he liked it, he took off his glasses and put them to the side, then pulled the man back in for a firmer kiss.
Their kiss was sensual. Tom led completely, lips moving unhurried against Tord’s, sucking lightly on his bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside. The Norse made a surprised noise, then melted into it, planting his hands on either side of Tom’s body and leaning over him. The kiss deepened gradually, wet and warm, while Tom continued lazily jerking him off, not fast, just enough to make Tord buck into his fist with huffy, desperate sounds.
Tom kept that slow, torturous pace for a long while, content to let Tord helplessly buck into his fist like a desperate teenager. It was decent payback for how much of a cocky asshole he’d been all day. Their heads moved together in a smooth rhythm, lips sliding and their breaths mingling, tobacco and vodka. Tord kept trying to deepen the kiss, chasing for more, like anticipated, but Tom skillfully kept control ; slow drags of his lips and tongue in the opposite direction, never letting it turn too heated no matter how badly the Norse wanted it.
Eventually, though, Tom took pity and started properly pumping him, fist sliding up and down his length with more intent. Tord groaned into his mouth immediately, his hips jumping, and finally stopped fighting for control of the kiss.
Tom smirked against his lips, dragging his thumb over the slick head on every upstroke, gathering the steady dribble of precum. He pulled back from the kiss with a wet pop, eyes half-lidded. Without a word, he lifted his hand between them and pressed his slick fingers against Tord’s bottom lip, head tilting. He wasn’t surprised when Tord opened immediately, sucking Tom’s fingers into his mouth with an eager noise, tongue swirling around them as he stared up at Tom with blown pupils.
Tom’s held his breath, biting his bottom lip. The way Tord looked…his flushed face, tongue dragging over his fingers, it was making him really horny. He pushed deeper, curling them over Tord’s tongue, watching the way the man’s throat bobbed, and he just took it.
Tord stepped in even closer, far more eager now. His cock slipped between Tom’s folds, sliding heavily through the slickness before dragging up against his stomach. The simmering, controlled tension finally snapped. Tom stopped trying to be above it. They kissed again; this time it turned messy fast, tongues sliding desperately as Tord rutted against him, grinding his dick between Tom’s cunt and stomach.
“I wanna put it in,” Tord panted against his mouth, voice wavering. He angled his hips so the head of his dick dragged over Tom’s clit repeatedly, teasing his patience. “Fuck, Tom… let me.”
Tom’s breath stuttered at the sensation, eyes fluttering. He knew he was about to throw every single rule he’d set out the window.
Tord’s mouth moved to his neck, sucking and licking at the sweaty skin just below his jaw.
Tom felt him adjusting, the head of his cock nudging right against his entrance, pressing, waiting.
Tom dug his nails into Tord’s shoulders. “D-did you bring a condom?” He asked finally.
Tord groaned, clearly impatient. “Why the fuck would I bring a condom?”
Tom pulled back and stared at him, equal parts annoyed and bewildered. “You literally waxed for this, and you didn’t bring a condom?”
Tord shrugged, still slowly rutting the head of his cock against Tom’s hole. “I don’t use them.”
Tom started shaking his head, but Tord quickly slipped two fingers down, rubbing tight and hopefully convincing circles over his clit before pushing them inside, crooking them just right.
“I’m clean. I swear,” Tord murmured, voice low and urgent. “Matthew can vouch for me. Just… fuck, please.”
It didn’t take much more convincing from Tord because Thomas was just as desperate and the ache between his legs had become unbearable.
“Fi— fine,” he barely got out.
Tord, naturally, didn’t wait another second. He thrust forward in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt.
Tom’s head tipped back as the pleasure pulsed through his stomach, his chest tightening as his cunt clenched hard around the sudden stretch. Tord was certainly not average, and the angle hit so deep it made his vision pool white for a second. His legs instinctively spread wider around Tord’s hips, body stunned by how perfectly full he felt.
“Fuck…” Tom groaned, nails biting harder into Tord’s shoulders.
“Oh wow,” Tord huffed, nuzzling into the side of Tom’s head, inhaling against his dark curls. “You feel really good.” He sank to the hilt again and rolled his hips in slow circles, grinding so Tom could feel every inch.
Tom tensed, his walls fluttering and clenching around the thick intrusion. “Pulling out all the stops, huh?” he muttered between breathy pants, adjusting his ass on the edge of the table. He draped his arms over Tord’s shoulders, looking up at him when the man finally pulled away from his neck.
Tord grinned down at him, hands sliding from the table to grip Tom’s ass, dragging him closer still with a firm squeeze. “You noticed? You must’ve watched quite a few of my videos,” he teased, pulling back just enough to snap his hips forward again.
Tom grunted at the first thrust, not totally adjusted. “I always do research before working with someone,” he replied, forcing his eyes to stay open and locked on Tord’s as the Norwegian started fucking him in a steady rhythm. The flimsy plastic table creaked loudly beneath them with every thrust.
“Right,” Tord chuckled, clearly not believing him. “Research.” He leaned in and kissed Tom again, first a quick peck, then deeper, licking into his mouth as he started fucking him in earnest. The wet slap of skin and the scraping of the table legs against the floor filled the room.
Tom wasn’t loud in bed, but damn , Tord knew exactly what he was doing. Every thrust hit precisely, dragging against his front wall in a way that made it hard to stay quiet, even for him. A few low grunts and curses slipped out against Tord’s lips despite his best efforts.
“Hn— fuck… oh fuck,” Tom murmured, one hand sliding up to cup the back of Tord’s head as his own tilted back.
“I think I can do better than that,” Tord murmured, slowing down to adjust their position. He pulled out, lifted both of Tom’s legs over one of his shoulders, and planted one knee on the table for leverage. The cheap table groaned loudly under their combined weight.
“This table is too flimsy,” Tom muttered, kind of protesting as he leaned back on his elbows.
“I’ll make it work,” Tord promised, sliding back inside in one smooth thrust. Folded nearly in half, Tom could do nothing but take it as Tord started fucking him harder and deeper, hips snapping forward with purpose.
Tom closed his eyes, surrendering to the shockingly good pressure. The pleasure coiled rapidly in his stomach. Tord leaned over him, breathing hot against the side of his face, practically bending him in half.
“You’re flexible,” Tord panted, eyebrows wiggling as his hips smacked harder and faster against Tom’s ass.
Tom tried to glare through the haze. “…Are you insinuating I do this often?” he gritted out, but the façade shattered when Tord nailed that perfect spot again. A choked moan tore from his throat before he could stop it.
Tord’s smile widened. He focused on that spot, pounding into it repeatedly until Tom inevitably came hard as fuck, legs twitching violently against Tord’s shoulder and a hand cupped over his mouth to stop any truly embarrassing noise.
Tord fucked him through it like a gentleman, taking his time to drag the orgasm out until it peaked again. Tom’s second climax hit harder, and of course, Tord had to show Tom that he was a man of his word and could, in fact, get him to squirt. Clear fluid spurted between them, wetting Tord’s stomach and the table as his body twitched.
“Ooooh—my god,” Tord moaned excitedly, voice cracking with delight as he laughed breathlessly. “I can’t believe I made you squirt that easily.” He kept thrusting, hips stuttering, chasing his own release. “Bet you want me to cum inside too, huh?”
Tom shook his head weakly, legs still trembling against Tord’s chest. “N-no… gonna make a mess,” he managed, though his tone was not sounding to firm and another small spurt of fluid leaked out with every thrust.
Tord let out an honest-to-god whine, still rutting into him like he was desperate. “Please… Please let me cum in you. I need it, Tom. I’ll make it feel so good, I promise,” he begged hotly against Tom’s neck, voice hoarse and needy.
Tom’s fingers stroked the back of Tord’s neck as he tried to find it in himself to say no. The begging, the warmth of Tord’s breath, the way his cock kept dragging against that sensitive spot ……
Like everything else that day, Tom folded.
“…Okay,” he rasped.
Tord groaned in relief and immediately started rabbiting into him. Seconds later, he buried himself deep, hips jerking as he came hard. Thick, warm spurts flooded Tom’s cunt, pulse after pulse. Tord kept grinding through it, pushing his cum deeper until he finally stilled, panting heavily.
When he eventually pulled out, a thick trickle of milky cum followed, dripping slowly from Tom’s used hole onto the table.
Tom’s vision was still blurry when he opened his eyes again. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze, and looked down between his legs.
His cunt was still pulsing hotly, glistening with wet, great. Thick white cum slowly dripped from his hole, sliding down his skin and onto the table. Tord’s dick hung half-hard right in front of him, also shining with a mix of both of their fluids.
Tom let out a slow breath. “You’re… spritely,” he said dryly, lips twitching when he heard Tord laugh.
“You get used to it filming porn,” Tord replied, still catching his breath but smiling that same crooked grin. He stepped closer again, hands settling on Tom’s thighs far too comfortably for just one fuck. “One round doesn’t cut it for me.”
Tom groaned, enticed by the idea but more than a little exhausted. “Not here,” he said, shaking his head. He couldn’t quite stop the small smile when Tord immediately pouted like a spoiled brat.
The Norwegian leaned in anyway, kissing him slowly, tongue sliding into his mouth like he was still trying to convince him for round two. Tom let him have it for a moment, even wrapped a hand around Tord’s wet dick and gave him a few lazy strokes just to feel him twitch and buck into his fist.
But eventually he broke the kiss and pushed Tord back by the chest. “Seriously. I need to get home and edit this if it’s gonna be posted by 6 a.m. like I promised.”
Tord groaned dramatically, nosing into the side of Tom’s neck, lips brushing warm skin. “Fine. So serious all the time…”
He finally backed off, tucking himself back into his jeans while Tom cleaned up as best he could with some napkins and pulled his clothes back on. Tord, surprisingly chivalrous, grabbed Tom’s laptop and gear, carrying everything out to the car like a gentleman who’d just been balls-deep in him ten minutes ago.
Once Tom closed the trunk, he felt Tord lingering behind him. He turned around.
“What else could you possibly need?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tord lit a cigarette, trying to look casual. “Maybe a date. If you’re into that.”
Tom blinked. “A date?”
“Yeah. Dinner. Lunch. Whatever you prefer,” Tord said, shrugging like it didn’t matter ; but Tom caught the slight nervous edge in his voice, the way he wouldn't make eye contact gave it away.
Tom hummed, pretending to think about it while a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Okay. Dinner. My place.”
Tord’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait— when?”
Tom chuckled, walking around to the driver’s side. “Tomorrow. And drop the cool guy act,” he snickered, sliding into the car.
He caught one last look at Tord in the rearview mirror ; standing there with a surprised, genuinely pleased grin on his face, before pulling away.
Tom had been pleasantly surprised.