Date: Tue, 3 Oct 2000 01:56:57 -0400
From: Athol Yarbrough <Athol@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: 'Durango, Part 1' {Athol Yarbrough} ( MM rom ) [1!5]

Here is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After you've read it, please
email me; tell me if I should continue the theme.


I first met Demetri on location in a remote section of the Colorado
mountains near Durango. Our trailors were nestled on a wide ridge on the
side of a breathtaking peak surrounded by other mountains, mostly
snow-capped. For a month our work time was short. We would spend about 4
hours a day shooting on the other side of the mountain from our trailors,
while the rest of the day was devoted to the stunt men. Demetri had a small
role in the film, as one of the clients of an alpine resort. We shared a
few scenes, even shaking hands and introducing our characters to each other
on a hiking jaunt, but we didn't speak to each other off-camera at first.
Indeed, we were never introduced.

After a few days of shooting, I began to notice that Demetri was showing up
for scenes in which he did not appear. At first I assumed he was carrying
on a second job, as a grip or somebody's gopher; but I soon realized that
he spent most of his time sitting or crouching near the camera and watching
the shoot. Actors were welcome to watch the process of course, but most
spent their free time enjoying the mountains. Demetri was beside the camera
every time I was on camera, and I began to get the nagging feeling that he
was not there to watch the action, but to watch me. That's when I began to
pay more attention to him.

I got his name, Demetrios, from an assistant camera man one morning, but I
waited to approach him, until I could have a good look at him. Observing
him candidly, however, turned out to be difficult as he always seemed to be
observing me. From a series of glances throughout the morning, I surmised
that he was probably as Greek as his name. His very clear skin had an olive
complexion and his hair was jet black, cut fashionably. He had a beautiful
face both in attitude and shape, with high cheek bones offsetting the
gentle dimples of his smile. He seemed almost constantly to be either
grinning or looking at the world with that open quality which I call
wonder. His eyes were dark but open and honest. His lips were full, but not
girlish. His chin was firm, but not so hard in shape as to escape the
overall boyishness of his appearance. He wore a white cashmere sweater with
a wide collar to reveal more of that lovely olive skin surrounding his
neck. Jeans and hiking boots completed the ensemble.

I found myself irresistibly attracted to this young man, and made of point
of saying, 'Hi', the next time I passed him. He returned, 'Hi', with a
smile, but we could go no further as I was being called over by the
director. As I approached the mountain stream chosen for this particular
shot, I realized nervously that it was time for the scene in which I was to
undress.

The film was set in the nineteenth century, and the costuming of that era
was for the most part, modest. However, in this scene, my character, alone
in the wilderness, was called upon to bathe naked in a stream. I have never
approved of full frontal nudity in film, at least for myself; but the
director had promised me that all the filming would be from the rear or
cropped from the waist up. I had all assurances that filmgoers would not be
treated to a view of my fully nude body. Nevertheless, the director, the
working film crew, and Demetrios, most certainly would.

And soon. Though the undressing was itself the action of scene, the
director asked to me to quickly strip prior to the shoot so that he could
assess camera angles with my body set against the mountainous panorama. The
shot was to be a pan beginning some distance away from me, then zooming in
and around the rear of my body to show the circle of mountains that my
character was taking in. We walked together down to the stream and I took
off the costume while the director told me the action he wanted and the
position that I should take in the stream. I placed the clothes beside me,
but the director picked them up and carried them away. I realized that the
camera would remain about 50 yards away and that I would be standing alone
in the stream with the crew behind me. As I turned to watch the director
return to his chair, I saw Demetrios. His eyes had never left me. For the
first time I felt the slight thrill of embarrassment.

I wasn't ashamed of my body. I was as fit as ever, and the muscles in my
legs and arms were still taut from an early morning hike. But there was a
powerlessness in having my nakedness observed, perhaps even scrutinized, by
this beautiful boy. I say 'boy', though I was sure he was only a few years
younger than myself. On some men, boyishness only grows with age. As I
reflected on this, I found myself hoping that my body pleased him.

The director called out, and I turned my back to the crew and stepped
calf-deep into the stream for the camera assessment. The chill mountain
breeze sent shivers to my spine and goose bumps to my skin. I felt the
sharp temperature difference where the water line fell on my calves. I felt
the tingle in my groin which one senses in moments of exposure and which is
not unlike the feeling that comes on the downward slope of a fast roller
coaster. After a moment or two the director called me back, and I started
walking the fifty yards back to the rest of crew. Seeing that I was
chilled, the director's assistant yelled for someone to run a towel to me.
Demetrios, motionless before, stood quickly, took the towel from the
assistant and ran to me. I said 'Thanks' as he arrived, but instead of
handing the towel to me, he stooped and knelt at my feet. For one
astonished moment, I saw that his face was level with my testicles, hanging
low despite the chill air. In that heartbeat, I honestly believed that he
was leaning in to sniff or to taste them; but a heartbeat later I realized
that, of course, he was only drying my legs and feet for me. I prayed
quietly that he would be quick about it. I could feel my private parts
beginning to grow firm. He did finish quickly, and then wrapped the towel
around my waist, just before my penis became hard and upright. I didn't
think he saw, though his hand brushed the tip of the organ slightly as he
folded a corner of the towel inside to secure it to my waist.  'Thanks' I
said again, and he returned, 'You're welcome' shyly as we continued the
walk back to the crew.

The crew was busy preparing for the scene and had apparently taken no
notice of the half-beat of sensuality which for me had seemed endless.
Fortunately for me, the shoot began beside a canvas tent a few yards
further left and I was able to put my costume back on without embarrasment
inside the tent. Even so, it was Demetrios who handed my costume in as I
ducked inside the tent and Demetrios who was waiting to help me with my
bootlaces when I came out. In spite of his proximity, I managed to lose the
hardness in my groin during the ensuing activity. The costume crew seemed
to accept Demetrios as my temporary dresser and paid little attention to
us, as he finished my shirt buttons and the bow of my tie.

The actual shoot went without incident as I undressed beside the tent and
walked back to my previous position in the stream.  This time I was to end
the scene by ducking under the water entirely where the stream was a little
deeper, two yards further. The water was icy, and I could not have stood
the temperature long; but the scene required only one take, and as I
stepped out of the stream, clearly shaking with cold, Demetrios met me at
the bank with two fresh towels. One he handed to me and with the other he
quickly began rubbing down my back side while I dried the front. Once I
nearly slipped on the rocks in my barefeet, but Demetrios caught me with
one hand on my stomach and the other hand placed firmly on my buttock. His
hands were smooth and strong. I experienced the fleeting sensation of his
hands massaging the cheek of my buttock and the ripples of my stomach just
above the groin. Had I not been chilled to the bone, I might have suffered
another erection on the spot. We walked back to the tent and I again ducked
inside to dress, but this time Demetrios followed me bringing my costume.

He silently served as my dresser, holding out first my underwear as I
stepped into each leg then my pants, shirt and so on. He worked without
comment, the consummate professional and yet his touch was intimate and
knowing. He often placed his hand against a part of my body to steady
himself as he helped me to dress. His hand was on my face as he brushed my
hair, his hand was on my chest as he straightened the back of my collar,
and as he fixed the bow in my tie he stood behind with his chin on my
shoulder, his torso hugging mine like a glove on the hand. I thought for a
moment that I felt a hardness from his groin against my buttock.

When my costume was complete, he started out of the tent ahead of me. I
placed my hand on the back of his neck, partly to stop him, and partly to
feel his skin as he had felt mine. He stopped, but did not turn to
me. Again, I said, 'Thanks'.

'You're welcome', he said, and stepped outside.

The rest of the morning was uneventful. We finished shooting before lunch,
but as we headed back to the transport bus, one of the location jeeps
rolled in, and Carlos, a supporting actor, jumped out and made a beeline
for John, the director. I walked in their direction to find out what was
going on. Demetrios was right behind me.

"I'm not sharing my trailor!" he was shouting to John. Carlos was a bit of
a hot-head, and he tended to explode whenever he failed to receive anything
but star treatment.

"I'll do what I can, Carlos," John said, "but I can't promise anything.
We've got a new batch of extras here tonight for the resort scenes this
afternoon and tomorrow. In a day or two you can have your trailor back to
yourself."

"That's not good enough."

"I don't mind sharing with you," offered Demetrios. He had obviously been
pegged as Carlos' new roommate.

"Well, I'm afraid I do mind sharing with you!"  Carlos returned with a
sneer. He turned back to John. "Does Steve share a trailor", he accused,
pointing to me. "Would your starring boy mind sharing a trailor!"

John began to protest, but I interrupted. "No, I wouldn't mind."

Carlos looked at me. "Keep your trailor, Carlos." I turned to Demetrios,
"You mind rooming with me?"

"No, sir." Demetrios smiled back at me with those terrific dimples.

I turned back to Carlos. "OK?"

"Sure. Thanks, Steve." Carlos looked down for moment. "Look, I'm sorry for
raising hell, I just . . . "

But Demetrios, John and I were already walking toward the bus, leaving
Carlos to muddle in his apology. "Thank you, Steve," John said as we
climbed aboard. "It's nice to know at least my star has a little give and
take."

After lunch, I helped Demetrios move his bags to my trailor. He traveled
very light, and we managed the whole move in one trip by foot. Inside, I
asked if he'd like a glass of tea or something before the next shoot.

"Sure," he said, "tea would be great! Listen, I really appreciate you
sharing your rooms with me."

"No problem," I answered, pouring two glasses of tea with ice and sitting
beside him on the small couch in the trailor's living area. There was no
place else to sit. "I appreciate you grabbing the towels for me this
morning. That water was freezing."

"I know. I couldn't believe it when you ducked all the way under. I knew
I'd have wanted a towel on the way out. Do you mind if I try out your CD
player?" I nodded my head and he dropped in one of his own, a contemporary
rock album with great vocals. We settled on our drinks quietly for a
moment, but I sensed his need to say something. Before he could get started
the phone rang. I picked it up, talked to John for a moment and hung up.

"Shoot's cancelled this afternoon," I told Demetrios. "They've got to
rework a set piece. Have you a got any work calls coming up."

"No I'm free, too"

"I guess we can take it easy, then Demetrios."

"Yeah. Call me Demetri," Demetri lay his arm on the back of the couch, his
hand was behind my head, inadvertently brushing my hair. "Can I ask you
something?"

"Sure."

"I think you're a terrific actor."

"Thank you."

"And you've got an incredible body. I mean, for film."

"Thank you. What's the question."

"Do you think I've got the looks for film. Be honest." He actually looked
as if he didn't know.

I was honest. "Are you kidding me? You're gorgeous! You look fantastic for
film."

"Really? You think so?"

I was incredulous. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You've got
beautiful cheekbones, a great smile." He shot me one of those great smiles.

"I'm glad you like my face. But I don't know if I look right for film all
over."

"What do you mean?"

He paused for a moment and looked embarrassed. "I have the advantage of
you. I've seen more than just your face."

He laughed for a moment nervously and I laughed too. "I see what you mean,"
I said. "But it looks like you've got a pretty good figure under that
sweater. Take your shirt off, if you want, it's your trailor, too."

He smiled, said "OK" and pulled his sweater off in one fluid motion. As I
had imagined, that beautiful skin tone was in evidence over his entire
torso without a blemish in sight. His body held not an ounce of fat and
boyish muscles rippled over the skin. I noticed without staring that his
nipples were taut and that he had goose bumps.

"You look great to me. As long as your bum's clean, you're a greek statue."

"I want you to see it," he said, "and tell me if I could get away with a
scene like the one you shot this morning." He stood up, and facing away
from me, unzipped his jeans and pulled them down around his ankles.

"Look," I said, "you don't have to . . ."

He paused and turned his head to look at me, slightly embarrassed. "I'm
sorry," he said, "Is this stupid? I can be really vain sometimes."

I laughed to put him at ease. "No, it's fine. We're all vain, you know."
His pants were still around his feet so I added, laughing, "You gone this
far. Let's see that ass of yours."

He smiled and dropped his white underwear, saying "Ta da!" with his back
side to me. As I suspected, I was greeted by two ripe melons of the same
incredible skin tone.

I laughed and clapped my hands. "Bravo, bravo." He was laughing with me,
his face turned away. "Encore, encore!" I added, getting into the fun.

He turned his head to look at me directly. "Encore?"

"You bet!" I said.

He smiled shyly and said, "There's really only one encore for this show."
He turned slowly around to face me, revealing a long, thick erection
protruding from the soft, black fur of his groin.

I couldn't hide my surprise, and said nothing for a moment. I was taken
aback and had no idea what was registering on my face. When I looked back
to his face, he was crying, softly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought it was OK, I thought you wanted . . ."

I stood up and held him quickly. "Hey it's ok, it's ok. I don't mind.
Really."

"Are you sure," he said looking at me with tears in eyes.

Instead of answering I went for those irresistible lips. In a moment, our
tongues were sliding back and forth tentatively from mouth to mouth,
exploring. His tears brushed my face as we kissed deeply.

After a moment, our lips parted and I cupped his chin in my hand, looking
into his eyes. "Listen ," I said. "You wanted me to see you this way. Now
let me explore you, inch by inch."

He started to speak but I put my finger to his soft, blushing lips and
traced them gently. I ran my fingers through his hair and to the back of
his neck and massaged there firmly, bracing his head with another kiss. As
my hands slid down around his broad shoulders, he slipped his own hands
under my shirt and began working his way up, groping for every ripple on my
stomach, every hint of a rib, until he reached my own nipples, also taut
now in expectation. With one motion he lifted my shirt over my head and
down around my shoulders until it lay on the floor. By this time, I was
grasping the cheeks of his ass, massaging vigorously. He moaned softly as
my fingers moved close to the open hole.

"Wait," he said urgently, "I want to please you first." He took the zipper
of my pants quickly and made short work of moving my pants and underwear
around my ankles. He grabbed my butt and unapologetically groped until his
fingers were inside my ass hole. By this time his mouth had found my
erection; and he was embracing me from both sides. In ecstacy, I nearly
lost my balance and grabbed his shoulders as he moved his mouth back and
forth over my penis in perfect rhythm. I looked down at him, running my
fingers through his soft black hair. The pleasure swelling inside my groin
was almost unbearable. The grip of his lips and throat on my dick was so
strong, it felt as though he could swallow the organ whole. I wanted to
last longer, but barely a minute had passed before I exploded into his
throat. Demetri swallowed every drop and continued to allow my thrust as I
expended the remaining cum in smaller doses.

Then, exhausted, I almost collapsed, leaning over his shoulder. In one
motion Demetrios lifted my body in a fireman's carry and hoisted me to the
bed in the next room. As he lay down beside me, I grabbed him around the
chest and slowly began massaging his pecs, while I recovered. As he relaxed
in my embrace, I moved my massage from his chest to his ripped abdomen, and
from there to the edge of the soft hair above his penis.  I let my left
hand wander to the center of his crotch, my little finger sliding into his
ass, my thumb and forefinger caressing his testicles delicately but
firmly. I rose slightly, and, pressing my right hand to his abs, I lowered
my lips to his erection and began to massage the head with my mouth. He
trembled noticeably as I ran my tongue over every rise and crevice of his
penis. I took the entire organ in my mouth and found that I could let it
slide all the way in without gagging, my lips pressed to the base. He began
to thrust gently, raising his pelvis from the bed as I lowered my mouth
around him. Unbelievably, his penis seemed to grow more in my mouth; I
could actually feel the bulge of his veins against my tongue and palate.

Our rhythm quickened and I prepared to drink deeply, but just as I thought
he would explode, he yanked his groin suddenly away from my mouth, and
shifted his body to kiss me forcefully.

I baulked. "Wait. I want you, Demetri. You didn't . . . " I started.

He clasped my face in his warm hands. "I know," he said, "I'm sorry, but I
want . . . can I have . . ." He was torn, afraid to ask.

"What!?" I begged. "Say it!"

"Can I have you in the ass? Can I put my dick in your ass?"

I paused for only a split second, then grabbed at the cabinet beside my bed
where I kept, a tube of lubricant. I tossed the tube on the bed and looked
deeper into the cabinet, frantically waving my hand through the
contents. "Damn!"

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't have any . . . damn!" No condoms. I finished the search by
slamming the cabinet door, and turning back to face Demetri. Those
beautiful eyes were staring back at me, pleading with me. I could have
drowned in those eyes.

"Nevermind." I said quickly and flashed him the most encouraging smile I
could muster. "Come here."

I opened the tube of lubricant, grabbed his dick and began to grease him,
sliding both hands up and down. He quickly became firm again and
groaned. He became more vocal as I teased his dick with my fingers, moaning
almost continuously. "Now," I said, when I guessed he was close to his
peak. "How do you want me?" I looked him in the eyes, again.

"But, what about?" he started.

"I don't care!" I said, and I meant it. Words and concepts had briefly
thrown themselves at me: fear, disease, promiscuity, aids. But at this
moment, they meant nothing to me. All that had meaning for me was now, this
moment. From the look in his eye, I could tell that Demetri had come to the
same conclusion.

Almost too roughly he shoved me down onto the bed, in the position he
preferred. I followed willingly. I was fully on the low bed from the waist
up, facing the bedspread, but my hips hung over the side, and my knees were
on the floor. Grabbing my hands behind my back, he straddled me. Slowly,
but with increasing force he slid his dick deeply into me. I groaned with
pain and pleasure. He began to ride me slowly, moving up and down as he
held my hands like the reins of a horse. Each thrust felt deeper. During
the slight pause before each rise, I felt his soft balls brushing against
my backside.  I had never felt such sweet agony, and when I thought I could
bear no more, Demetri exploded inside me as we both moaned. Warmth surged
inside me.

He continued to ride me gently, expending himself; then withdrew and
collapsed beside me, face up on the bed. But I wasn't finished.

I whipped around and lifted his legs to my shoulders, bringing my 2nd
erection close to his ass. He tossed me the tube of lubricant and as I
prepared my groin for insertion, he never stopped looking at me with those
deep dark eyes. As I prepared to enter him, he smiled and whispered, "yes,
yes!"

He was tight as I began to push in, and when I saw a pained look on his
face, I was afraid of hurting him. But he cried out through gritted teeth,
"No! Do it! Please!"

I paused, halfway inside. "I don't want to hurt you." I said.

He was crying at this point. "Fuck me! Please! I'm begging you!"

I needed no more encouragement. I thrust in to the base of my cock, this
time feeling my own balls falling against his skin. He was still crying,
but laughing and moaning too, all in one cry of ecstacy. I began pumping
hard, as he continued calling out, "Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder!" I lost all
sense of fear for him soon as the intense pleasure built up inside. After
exploding inside of him, I lost all control. My body shuddered and I
weakened, leaning over Demetrios. Demetrios leaned up quickly, pulling his
legs carefully off my shoulders and pulling me to his chest in a shower of
kisses. My dick was still inside him. We lay there quietly, dissolving in
each other's embrace, drifting to sleep together.

I woke up every hour or so, and the pleasure of finding this beautiful body
caressing mine continually sent me back to my dreams filled with passion
and comfort.

When daybreak finally came, I awoke cold and uncomfortable for the first
time in hours. I turned to Demetri, but he was gone . . .

  . . . to be continued . . .