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Technical Difficulties on the Set of a Gum Commercial

Posted by: Age: 17 at the time Posted on: 6 comments
8 likes 2107 views Category: Masturbation Male-Male Tags: handjob, nude, scene, commercial, actors, teen, locker, changing
An amateur actor has trouble adjusting to his first nude scene and one of his coworkers helps him deal with his problems backstage.

From my early childhood to my late teens, my mom was obsessed with the idea that I'd become a famous actor. I spent about a decade acting in small commercials at her urging, but alas my career (if you could call it that) never took off, and my mother was finally forced to agree with me that I simply wasn't cut out for the silver screen. While the commercials I landed roles in were never anything special, there's one that sticks out in my memory due to some problems we had filming it. It was a commercial for a breath-freshening gum of all things, and it involved a quick bit of nudity, though not on my part. I'm not sure how wide a market it ran in, but perhaps you'll remember it once I describe it in detail. The commercial featured two young women (around 16-18) and four young men (same age range), all conventionally attractive. The four boys are hanging around, shooting the breeze, when the two girls approach, clearly interested in us. The first girl starts to speak, but we're clearly uninterested and annoyed, supposedly due to her unflattering breath. The other girl smirks at her friend's tactless approach, and pulls out a pack of the featured gum. She chews a strip and then smugly approaches us guys, and upon speaking, her amazingly fresh breath actually blows our shirts right off (done with tearaway shirts and a wire attached to our backs). We're all impressed by the girl's minty fresh scent and approach her, starting to flirt and show off our lean muscled chests. Having seen how it's done, the other girl takes a strip of gum from her friend and then blows a second burst of cool minty air at us, and lo and behold, off fly our pants. The four of us were thus revealed to each be sporting a different style of undergarment. Myself in tight black boxer briefs, another in classic white briefs, the third in loose plaid boxer shorts, and the fourth - scandalously - going commando. The final cut featured the shot cropped to show only the three underwear-clad members of our troupe having their pants blown off, followed by a close-up of the girls making exaggerated shocked expressions, and finally a shot the fourth boy's toned ass from behind as his hands quickly move to cover his genitals. A final full shot of all six of us had his junk just barely hidden by his own hands, and the guys smirking confidently as the girls can't help but stare. Overall, it was a VERY exaggerated way of saying "Our gum will give you such fresh breath, you'll land any man easily." But as scandalous as this on-screen nudity might seem, the actual filming process was much more titillating. You see, Mr. Commando (I'll be referring to the four of us by our underwear choices) had never done a nude scene before this commercial, and he was woefully unprepared. He had actually taken the role under the assumption he would be playing the part of Mr. Boxers, but the intended Mr. Commando (the eventual Mr. Boxers) had arrived on set sporting a much larger bush of pubic hair than the director expected, and so it was decided that he and the final Mr. Commando would switch roles. Our Mr. Commando had one major problem with this casting shake-up. He would pop an erection the second his penis came into contact with open air. He apologized profusely to the cast and crew as soon as it happened. He rarely spent any time naked, and whenever he did, he admitted he spent it masturbating. He had basically conditioned his body to react to nudity with arousal. Hoping to deal with the conflict as quickly and discreetly as possible, the director's assistant suggested Mr. Commando take care of his problem in the men's dressing room, and Mr. Commando agreed immediately, taking his (honestly quite impressive) erection backstage for some one-on-one time. Once he returned, he had clearly calmed down and we all dressed ourselves in the wire-rigged tearaway clothing. The commercial went smoothly for a bit, up until the second girl's "breath" brought about our second undressing. Then everything fell apart. The instant those pants were pulled from Mr. Commando's legs, his member was back at attention. There was an annoyed shout of "Cut!" followed by a second round of profuse apologies and a rush to the dressing room for some additional "alone time." Once he got back, we were relieved to hear we only had to start from the pants-losing shot. The girl opened her mouth again. The wires stripped our lower bodies once more. And we all let out small sighs of relief when the director stayed silent. We finished the scene on the second take and were all about to congratulate Mr. Commando on his reserved composure when the cameraman called our attention to a problem. Unfortunately, Mr. Commando had not remained as composed as we believed, and as the footage was played back to us, we could all see his hands slowly move to contain what was clearly a growing erection beneath them. By the final group shot, his hands were positioned stretched out so much that they and his wrists just barely hid his fully engorged length, pointed downward by force. There was a short conversation about how noticeable it might be to anyone who wasn't particularly looking for the problem, but the director decided that it was too risky, and so off to the changing room Mr. Commando did go for the third time. I think I was the only one who didn't loudly groan when the director's assistant commented "He must have wrung it dry by now" as we waited. Take four was the charm. There was no budding erection in sight on the cameraman's screen, and we all cheered as the director told us we could get dressed and leave. The tearaway clothes having been provided by the studio, we returned to the men's lockers in either underwear or nothing but our shoes and socks. Sweating from the hot lights, Mr. Briefs and Mr. Boxers headed right for the showers. I intended to follow their lead, but had stopped to bend down and untie my shoes when I noticed Mr. Commando was loitering by the lockers as well. His hands were back on duty at his crotch, and from our close study of the take three footage I could tell he was back to full attention just beneath his palms. He grinned uncomfortably, and asked if I would go ahead to the showers without him. Though it was plain as day what his intentions were, I decided to ask him if he wanted to be alone to give himself another tug. He gave a shy nod. I was still crouched down at the time, so it wasn't yet clear to him that I had sprouted a stiffy in my boxer briefs shortly after noticing his fourth of the afternoon. Figuring it was unlikely to go away on its own and that the other two actors would not want its intrusive company in the small studio showers, I decided it wouldn't hurt to ask Mr. Commando if I could join him in a quick wank. I rose back to my feet, arms on my hips, proudly displaying the tent in my shorts pointed right in his direction. "Actually, do you mind if I join you this time?" I asked. He was stunned by the offer, and though he moved his hands to let his cock spring back into its natural vertical stance, he still didn't look sure about my proposition. "In fact," I continued. "Maybe we can finally get yours to go away permanently if I give you a hand." Mr. Commando was intrigued. "You mean like, we handle each others'?" Now he was catching on. Wordlessly, I sat on the nearby bench and released my anaconda from its lair before motioning for him to join me. Excitedly, he stepped over the bench and sat down facing me, one leg outstretched on either side. As his hands were on his thighs, I understood that he expected me to make the first move, and I reached out to take hold of his crank shaft. It was hot and veiny, and just one slow stroke up to the head caused his whole body to shiver. Beads of pre-ejaculate formed on the tip, and I stretched out my thumb to smear it evenly across his mushroom cap. I had given him about five more pumps when he suddenly realized my flesh rocket was being neglected, and he leaned forward to give it a tug. He got the hang of giving his first handy pretty quickly, and soon we were perfectly in rhythm, pumping each others' pork pipes. Though we hadn't spoken since sitting down, our steadily increasing speed and confident smirks as our eyes met communicated that it had become a sort of competition. I was trying to inch Mr. Commando over the edge before I hit the point of no return. Alas, Mr. Commando had the clear advantage of three loads already spent before I had even shot one, and I gasped as I felt my balls tighten. I hit my fellow actor's chest with two thick ropes of cum, plus a third on the shaft of his member and a few weak pulses that dripped down to his knuckles before he could pull his hand away. His victorious grin didn't last very long though, as he himself fired his flesh cannon mere seconds later. I couldn't help but stare in awe as his sausage bobbed up and down like a sprinkler, spitting man milk up and down my arm, chest and even my chin. The best part had to be the long deep moan that escaped his lips. This man clearly enjoyed his orgasms. By the time Mr. Briefs and Mr. Boxers had returned, we had used a spare towel to wipe the jizz from our bodies and the benches, but our sweaty appearances and my spent dick still hanging out of my underwear alerted them to what had transpired. Clearly disinterested based on their exaggerated eye rolls and flaccid penises, they went about their business getting dressed, while Mr. Commando and I left to take their spots in the shower. Though our soapy bodies did brush against each other a few times in the cramped showers, nothing transpired beyond our one-on-one time on the bench. Mr. Commando maintained his composure for the remainder of our afternoon in the studio. Either the fourth time was the charm or my hands are magic.

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