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Gazing up the body of his scene partner, with the full moon illuminating him from behind, there’s a glowing halo around his partner’s form, and Stede feels like he is blowing an angel.
~ ~ ~
It feels like just yesterday when Stede was scrolling through one of the industry’s leading porn sites looking for something that piqued his interest. There was the occasional pretty face or nice body that would lure him in, but as soon as the video started playing, the effect was ruined. The music! The acting! The lack of gusto! It was all atrocious. How did these people even call themselves actors? Stede wondered. It probably wasn’t their fault , he admonished himself, how could the director call himself a creative, that’s the real question! It would disgust him so much that he couldn’t even get off!
Sometimes when he was really desperate, he’d play the videos on mute, palming himself under his silk sheets, and reciting Mr. Darcy's lines from “Pride and Prejudice” over the men on screen.
“In vain I have struggled,” Stede had once huffed, one hand holding his phone and the other holding his cock. “It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and, ha, oh fuck, and love you.” The man on the screen spat into his palm and jerked his shiny pink cock. His abs looked like they'd been covered in oil and his blue and white jockstrap was tucked down below his balls, pushing everything forward to be on better display for his suitor.
Another taller, more broad man covered in hair stepped into the frame. “You are too generous to trifle with me,” Stede narrated as if he were dubbing a foreign film. The large man stepped toward the smaller one, and they started kissing immediately. No fanfare, no communication, and grasped onto the smaller man’s cock.
Hardly any foreplay! Stede thought. He shut his eyes tightly and focused on the sensation of his cock. “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged,” he said, then groaned, turning his face into his pillow to bite down on the fabric. He opened one eye to see the two men fucking, the twink bent over the side of a leather couch and the bear ramming into him from behind, holding the smaller man’s knee up to give the camera a good angle. Stede’s breathing heightened, “But one word from you will silence me on this subject for, ah aha ah AH, ever!” he exclaimed, coming into his palm.
With a deep sigh, Stede turned his phone screen off and dropped it to the side of the bed. What if things could be different , he had thought then. What if porn for gay men could be made with finesse, diversity, production value, and sex appeal?
~ ~ ~
Since that revelation, Stede has created Revenge Productions, a subsidiary of Bonnet & Badminton , of which Stede became sole proprietor in his father’s passing. Having no other heirs, the company, which mostly shot political campaign ads, fell right into Stede’s lap – the disgraced gay son whom E. Bonnet had cut out of his life a decade before. An oversight the Badminton twins, business partners of Stede’s father, were none too pleased about.
Stede was not interested in running a political campaign ad company, especially one known for attack ads, and whose main profit margins were forged in fear-mongering and anti-LGBTQ rhetoric. Much to the dismay of the twins, Chauncy and Nigel Badminton, Stede took the company in a new and refreshing direction.
He set up Revenge, a mission-driven, inclusive, queer pornographic film company, in memory of his hateful homophobic father. The twins and half the company jumped ship quickly after the update, selling their shares back to Stede and getting their “good, Christian” names as far from Revenge as possible.
Newly divorced, out of the closet, in charge of an entire production company, and without the hate-filled storm cloud of his father looming over him, Stede was inspired one lonely night, cock in his fist and thumb scrolling through video after video of disappointing content.
There was a massive hole in the gay porn market for quality content and he was just the man to fill that hole.
Not one to go into anything half-hogged, Stede hired the assistance of a whole crew of very helpful queers to manage his company. Actors, directors, PAs, social media managers, cinematographers, camera people, boom mic operators, and screenwriters were the tip of the iceberg. He had to decorate sets, buy adequate sex toys, and have custom sex furniture built. He brought in consultants in the queer and disability communities to make a welcoming and accessible atmosphere and space for an inclusive range of body types and abilities. When requested, he hired intimacy coordinators to work with the actors so their chemistry on screen didn't just seem authentic but was authentic.
The intimacy coordinators were often only necessary for new hires though, as most of the actors who worked on a Revenge Production either worked with existing partners or made a new partner in the filming process. It was a running joke in the office that if you got hired for a Revenge film, you’d leave the set end of day in a polycule.
It wasn’t until Stede was trying to hire for a film with a script set for mature actors that he even considered being in one himself. He wasn’t classically trained, but he had dabbled in acting. He played Mercutio in his high school dramatization of Romeo and Juliet, and, maybe ironically, played the Sheriff in his college’s production of “Best Little Whorehouse In Texas.” He tried to bring a bit of sophisticated Robert Redford to the character, rather than the brisk, rugged air of Burt Reynolds, but being a college production, he hadn’t gotten much feedback on the role either way. It had cemented his love for musical theater though, which probably should have been a pink flag for homosexuality years before he saw them himself. At the time, he wasn’t doing much self-reflection; he was just happy to be involved.
Now he was all about self-reflection, trying new things, and experiencing all that life had to offer. This new lot in life led him to consider himself for the production, “To Woo a Rose,” written and directed by one of Stede’s new favorite artistic directors, Lucius Spriggs.
Stede decided to try his hand at the lead role of “Godfrey Thronrose,” opposite “Jeffery Bushlily” (yet to be cast), in the heavily outfitted period piece set at a Regency-era ball. The two characters find one another, dance, and flirt under the moonlight. Jeffrey playfully chases Godfrey through a hedge labyrinth, and then Godfrey finds an ornate raised pavilion in the center of the courtyard just as Jeffery catches up. They make love in the pavilion, and the film ends with the two characters gazing into one another’s eyes under the stars.
The script is beautiful, and Stede was surprised that Lucius had noted the two leads should be played by mature actors, something quite rare in the industry. Revenge is always trying to push past the outdated social constructs of what constitutes “conventionally attractive” and a “pornstar.”
Lucius is making a name for himself as an up-and-coming unique creator in the field and loves the idea of Stede for Godfrey.
“Oh my God, 100%, Boss! I’m honestly bummed I didn’t think of it first. You’d be the perfect Godfrey!” Lucius says when Stede pitches him the idea.
“Really? Do you think so? It’s just that I saw you wanted mature actors for this one, and it’s always been a dream of mine since starting this company, and…” Stede’s voice trails off.
“It’s perfect! We just need to find your Jeffery!” Lucius exclaims.
“Oh goodness, yes, I suppose we do. I’ll put a casting call out for performers tonight,” Stede says, already drafting the message in his head and imagining the type of man he hopes will reply.
~ ~ ~
Ed Teach has been doing porn under the pseudonym Blackbeard for so long that he might as well be rebranded as Graybeard now. Or maybe shave it the fuck off and tell people to call him Nobeard. It’s all become so fucking boring! No chaos, no drama, no fucking life! Just the same old tired playbook, same old tired lines. He’s always cast as the cool, aloof leather daddy and they’re always the fawning innocent that he’s meant to corrupt. Corrupt with his massive cock. Blah blah blah.
Maybe it’s finally time to retire , he thinks as he scans through his work emails. Put him out to pasture with the rest of the useless studs. The new kids with their 24-hour erections are already putting him out of business. He can’t compete with those ‘roided out little bros. One of the little shits called him a bear on set the other day. He wasn’t big enough or hairy enough to be a bear! All because he didn’t have chiseled 6-pack abs anymore or those little knobby bits at his hips that dip toward his junk? Life had softened his belly up a bit, so sue him, he was almost fucking 50. Fuck that.
“Open Casting Call for Non-Traditional Mature Male Leads!” the subject line from Revenge Productions reads.
“Hmm,” Ed hums in thought, “fascinating.”
He reads through the project details in the casting announcement with intrigue. He had heard murmuring about this new company that touted itself as queer and inclusive, but he had heard that before. Fuck, even scam artist and cock sucker star Calico Jack had tried to start up his own company for queer porn, with all the pretty words about “ethics” and “safe spaces” included. Only for performers to come to shoddily-made plywood sets, with a majority of cishet white male performers, told to fuck on sheetless mattresses, and receive paychecks that bounced. Jack was ousted from the industry years ago, but the feeling of betrayal from a fellow gay pornstar, someone he once called a friend, still stung.
Revenge Productions does seem to be putting their money where their mouth is though. The production value of their porn seemed outstanding. The actors Ed has worked with who have worked on Revenge films have only had positive things to say. They seemed to be all above board, but Ed was cautious. Some might call him paranoid, but you don’t make it twenty-plus years in the industry without a healthy dose of paranoia.
“Why the hell not,” he says to himself and replies to the casting call. The project doesn’t say a thing about leather or domination, his usual bread and butter, but it does specifically call for performers over 40, which he’s never seen in all his years of working.
He attaches his extensive resume, a few choice pictures, and a handy list of boundaries regarding the shit he won’t put up with anymore on set. He’s been working long enough that he feels he’s earned being able to have a little celebrity rider. It’s not like he’s asking for a bowl of green M&Ms in his dressing room. More like “Respect my safeword,” “Do not slap me in the face,” and, “Seriously, don't slap me in the fuckin face, you fucking cunt, I will end you.”
~ ~ ~
Ed arrives on the set of “To Woo a Rose,” later that month. When offering him the role, the production team had notified him that they would be filming mostly outside and wanted to use the natural light of an actual full moon, so he had a few weeks to prepare.
They sent Ed a script, a real-life script. He didn’t usually get scripts on shoots. Notes maybe. Something along the lines of, “So you’re a robber and you’re breaking into this guy's house, right? Act tough and, uh… criminal? Then he says he’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt him. Then you fuck him. Got that? Okay, rolling in 5!” The rest was mostly improvising and moaning. He had gotten great at doing both.
But a script? A typed-out, screenplay-formatted script? The damn thing was 20 pages long. Were the characters actually going to fuck or just talk the whole time? Regardless, Ed committed the damn thing to memory. It was refreshing in a strange way. The writing was good. The plot was… well, there was one, which was novel. It was like Bridgerton meets the Gilmore Girls. Witty, fun, and entirely extra for a porn flick. Ed ate it up.
The set is a beautiful manor rented in the country, and Ed can’t even imagine the cost of filming there. He’s instructed to head to the trailer for hair, make-up, and costuming. He chuckles and shakes his head as he walks to the air-stream trailer parked on the side of the mansion. “Hair and make-up,” he mutters to himself. “Fuckin’ wild.”
When he gets there, the trailer door swings open, barely missing him in the process, and a blonde man in a lush, golden silk robe steps down the two stairs to the pavement below. “Oh!” he says when he spots Ed. “You must be Blackbeard!” he exclaims.
“Ed,” he responds, extending his hand to the man.
The man struggles with his robe-tie to make sure it’s tightly secured at his waist then grasps Ed’s hand back. “Stede Bonnet. Your Godfrey today,” he adds, enthusiastically pumping Ed’s hand up and down. “I’m so glad a legend like yourself could join us for this film! Sorry about the cold hands," he says, grimacing as he takes his hand back and rubs his palms together.
Ed smirks and looks down with a shrug of one shoulder. “Cold hands, warm heart. That's what my ma used to always say," he says wistfully and Stede looks like he grows a few inches taller at the statement. "Anyway, ‘legend’ is a bit much,” Ed adds, rerouting the conversation to something less personal.
Stede beams. “Not at all!” he argues. “I’ve seen all of your films, you’re a master at the craft.”
Ed cocks his head and raises an eyebrow in question. “The craft of… fucking?” he asks.
Stede barks out a laugh then covers his mouth with a hand, embarrassed at his outburst. “Oh! Uh, well, yes, I suppose that as well. I was alluding more to your acting ability and, uh, your prowess, and your presence on the screen. Just,” he gestures to Ed with a big sweep of his arm in a circle in the air in front of Ed’s body, “the whole package.”
Ed cocks a hip and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve been admiring my package?”
Stede’s entire face turns bright red, all the way down his neck and into that robe that looks more invitingly soft by the moment. He opens his mouth to respond then clamps it closed.
Chuckling, Ed reaches out a hand to fall on Stede’s shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly. “S’okay, you’re going to get well acquainted with it soon. I’d hope that you knew what you were in for.”
The wheezing noise Stede makes sounds something akin to a tea kettle or the last gasp of a dying animal, but Ed’s used to that reaction by now.
“So why haven’t I seen any of your films?” he asks to cut the tension.
Stede clears his throat and tries to compose himself. “Oh, uh, that’s because I don’t have any. I’m usually behind the scenes. I own Revenge Productions .”
The name clicks in Ed’s brain. “Bonnet! Ah, yes, I’ve heard all about you,” he says, letting his hand trail down Stede’s shoulder to caress the fabric of his robe. It’s so much softer than it looks, which is saying something because it looks like something he wants to wrap around his naked body and roll around in until he dies of pleasure.
“You have?” Stede squeaks. His eyes dart to Ed’s hand on his shoulder, then back, looking a bit excited by the touch. “I have a robe for you in the dressing room, if you would like,” he adds.
“I think I would,” Ed says, dropping his hand. “First film, huh?” he asks as Stede opens the door to the trailer for him and gentlemanly gestures for him to step in first.
“Very first! You’ll be taking my adult film virginity, as it were,” Stede jokes.
Ed side-eyes him with a smile. “I promise to be gentle,” he says.
Stede almost trips up the last step. “Oh dear,” he says to himself.
Ed decides to give him a break by focusing on the makeup artist and hair stylist: a young man with an apron of brushes tied to his waist and an older woman with a shock of purple and white hair and bright aqua cat-eye glasses on, otherwise clad in all black. He introduces himself and they introduce themselves as Ash and Reina respectively. Reina instructs him to sit in a swivel chair next to Stede.
“May I touch your hair?” Reina asks, looking over Ed’s head into the mirror before him to make eye contact.
He scrunches his face in confusion. “Isn’t that your job?”
Stede leans over his armrest. “We value consent in all forms here. No one is allowed to touch anyone without verbal consent, even our staff and helpers,” he says, smiling to Reina in the mirror.
“Oh,” Ed says, “that’s… modern.” His mind boggles a bit at the new information. “Yes, Reina. Please do, consent confirmed,” he says, and salutes her in the mirror because he has no idea what else to do. She laughs and nods before starting to brush his hair.
Ash works on Stede’s make-up as Reina curls Ed’s hair into an elaborate updo with butterfly hair pins, small flowers, and even a few bows in his beard. “This is fucking insane,” Ed breathes as she ties the tiny bows. She just chuckles at him, and then Ash and Reina switch positions.
“How does your company afford all of this?” Ed asks, glancing at Stede through his mirror. “I consent,” he says to Ash quietly before the kid can ask to start on his makeup.
“Have you looked into Revenge’s payment model?” Stede asks.
Ed wracks his brain but comes up short. “Uh, no, I can’t say that I have.”
“The site is a pay-what-you-can subscription service. Patrons also have the choice to pay a monthly base fee, per video they enjoy, or to just tip the performers in the films. Many folks are at the free level but some pay over $100 per video they watch, it's up to the user. The average subscription fee is about $15 a month, per member. As a bonus, every customer gets to submit their ultimate fantasy, and we use those as storyboards for the scripts. We then give the user creative credit, if they desire. People have reacted very positively to this new style of pornographic film-making. I think folks feel less guilty consuming content they know was made ethically and are more willing to spend money on performances they had a hand in creating,” Stede explains.
“Wow,” Ed says, trying to keep his face still while Ash applies setting powder to his forehead.
“Be the change you want to see in the world, and all that,” Stede says.
Ed laughs. “Yeah. Gandhi was totally talking about gay porn when he said that.”
Stede chuckles and tilts his chin down sheepishly. “I know I’m not changing the world, but it is rewarding to know I’m making small changes. I saw a need in the industry that wasn’t being met, a desire for something that some of us, folks like me anyway who need a bit more connection to the material, to the characters, to really feel anything, can enjoy and see ourselves in. Media that shows a wide range of types of people, relationships, and dynamics that aren’t often shown in porn. That feels… important, in a small way.”
Ed reaches across the space between their chairs and grasps Stede’s forearm. “Aw, man, I didn’t mean that in a disparaging way. What you’re doing is important, and not in a small way, in a big way. Plus, Gandhi was an absolute horndog who fought for civil rights. He would definitely approve of your mission.”
Stede turns to look at Ed’s profile as Ash fills in his brows. Ed can see him smiling in his periphery but tries not to move too much away from his make-up artist. “Thank you,” Stede says sincerely before turning back to Reina.
Ash takes a step back to survey his work and then steps aside so Ed can see his reflection. He blinks a few times in recognition because the face in the mirror looks nothing like him. He’s dolled up with bows in his beard, hair a mess of intertwining ribbons and curls atop his head, and his skin looks flawless, smooth with a touch of shimmer on his eyelids, full brows, and a rosy tint to his cheekbones.
Ed gapes and moves his head from side to side then scrunches and stretches his face to make sure it’s really him. “Wow,” he repeats.
Ash beams in pride and then starts to put away his brushes. Reina doesn't have to do much to Stede’s hair, merely misting it with a light spritz of hairspray, because it's already perfectly curled. Ed wonders if he gets out of bed each day with a head of perfect golden curls or if he woke up early and did his hair at home before he arrived on set.
Ash disappears momentarily and returns to the trailer with two clear clothing bags, their costumes hanging inside. He hangs them on hooks on either side of their mirrors. Ed’s costume is a time-period-appropriate, lush purple velvet suit with gold filigree, white lace, and embroidered flowers along the trimming. Stede’s is a beautiful baby blue satin suit, an intricately patterned vest, with similar lace and embroidered embellishments along the cuffs and edges of the coat. Ed is in awe of the level of detail. And all for costumes they plan to fuck in. Mental.
Stede stands and extends a hand out to Ed to help him rise. “May I help you get dressed? These breeches and vests can be a bit of a pain,” he offers.
Ed can only nod. What have I gotten myself into? he asks himself, but he can only be excited about what this fascinating man has in store.
Ash and Reina exit the trailer to give them privacy and Stede begins to disrobe. Ed follows suit. He’s never been shy about his body, obviously, and he knows he looks damn good for his age, his body art only accentuating what genetics have naturally blessed him with. He takes his clothes off carefully, making sure not to mess up his hair or makeup.
Stede hangs his robe and turns to Ed, clad only in tight-fitting royal blue boxer briefs. Ed has stripped to nothing, and Stede’s eyes travel down to Ed’s toes and back up before he swallows audibly and remembers what they’re doing. “Bloomers,” he stammers and Ed can’t help but smile.
“Excuse me?” he asks.
Stede turns, unzips his clothing bag, and pulls out a pair of white, lace, frilly underwear, which Ed would assume one might call bloomers. They were loose and made up of gathered fabric instead of elastic. “We both have a pair,” he says, turning, pulling his briefs off and pulling the bloomers on quickly. Ed is excited to see the curve of Stede’s ass, sans briefs, but sad not even to catch a glimpse of the front goods before the filming begins. Seems common courtesy to give a guy a warning first – let him know what he’s in for – but Stede seems shy. It’s his first shoot , Ed thinks in his defense. Plus, Ed doesn’t mind a few surprises.
He turns to his garment bag and unzips it to take out a pair of black bloomers and matching wool stockings. “This is wild, mate,” he exclaims. “Can’t say I’ve ever worn tights on a shoot, and I starred in all seven of the Avengers porn parody films.”
Stede chuckles. “I will argue that your portrayal of Tony Steele rivals that of RDJ’s Stark any day of the week,” he says, pulling powder blue stockings out of his garment bag and shaking them to unroll the bundle. “Would you like help with those? I’ve put them on plenty of times.”
Internally Ed thinks, they’re socks, I think I can figure it out , but the idea of Stede on his knees for him is too appealing to pass up. “Yeah, mate, that’d be super helpful of you. Thanks,” he says, sitting down and swiveling his chair in Stede’s direction, handing him the stockings.
Clad in nothing but his frilly bloomers, Stede kneels at Ed’s feet and props one foot onto his thigh. He bunches the wool stocking up to the toe and slips it on Ed’s foot, carefully sliding the material up his ankle, calf, and knee. He’s so focused on his task, that he doesn’t look up until the stocking is tightly secured with the tie of a black ribbon laced through eyelets at the top of the stocking around Ed’s thigh. Ed is staring down at the flash of skin between the top of the stocking and the hem of his bloomers. His inner thigh, one of the softest, most sensitive bits of skin on his whole body, is tingling wildly at the point where Stede’s thumb traces the cuff edge of the sock. Ed’s breath hitches and Stede glances up quickly before grabbing the second stocking and repeating the action. He ends the act by gliding his hand down the length of Ed’s leg, all the way to the sole of his foot, where he squeezes gently.
“Don’t they feel lovely?” he asks, still on his knees, still gazing up at Ed through golden lashes.
“Mhm,” is all Ed can manage, and then he clears his throat. Is this strange man really making him speechless? That hasn’t happened in almost twenty years. People don’t intimidate Blackbeard, he intimidates them! “Thanks,” he adds a little breathlessly, then helps Stede to his feet. “I think I can figure out the rest,” he states, starting to toss his lace-cuffed shirt on, followed by trousers with a funny-looking pleated front that buttons up on either side of his dick and finishes the look with a patterned gold and purple brocade vest and matching velvet jacket. Gazing at himself in the vanity, he adjusts his lapels and thinks he looks like a million bucks.
Once Stede finishes getting dressed, he takes two mini bottles of Gatorade out of the fridge and offers them, one red, one blue, to Ed.
Ed nods and takes red. “Good idea,” he says and rifles through the pockets of the pants he came in for a pill bottle. He shakes out two small blue pills and offers one to Stede. “Three most important considerations to any shoot: energy, stamina, and hydration.”
Stede takes the little blue pill with a shrug and lifts it in the air as if to toast with the pill. “To energy, stamina, and hydration!” he cheers with his little blue pill and little blue drink. They swallow them down and make their way to the set.
“Lucius Spriggs, this is Edward Teach,” Stede introduces when they reach the camera crew set up in the corner of a ballroom. There are a handful of people dressed in period-appropriate costumes like they just stepped off the set of Bridgerton, leaning against the walls waiting for their time to walk or dance through the background of the shot.
“Jeffery Bushlily, at your service,” Ed says, reaching out a hand for Lucius to shake.
The young director turns pink with excitement. He shakes Ed’s hand sandwiched between both of his. “Such a pleasure, Mr. Blackbeard– Teach, Mr. Teach, Edward, big fan, huge fan. My partner Pete is over the moon that you auditioned for this part. I had to ban him from the set because he would have fangirled too close to the sun and probably ruined the whole shoot,” Lucius says, all in one breath, making Ed’s head spin a bit, scrambling to keep up.
“Well, I’ll be sure to autograph something for him if you’d like before I leave today,” Ed offers.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to encourage him. I love the man, but he’s absolutely feral about Blackbeard, no hinges left,” Lucius says, realizing he’s still clutching Ed’s hand, pumping it up and down the whole time they’ve been speaking, so he drops it abruptly with a chagrined smile. He turns to the set. “Okay, so we’ll start over here. Godfrey, you’re going to be at the doorway. Jeff, you’ll be at the harpsichord.”
“Do you want me to play?” Ed asks.
“Do you know how?” Lucius says with his body paused mid-motion, arm outstretched toward the instrument.
“Nothing fancy,” he lies, beginning to press the keys up and down the board to strum the instrument in a melody he knows will impress.
Stede and Lucius both gasp, mouths agape. “Okay, so yes, what the fuck,” Lucius says, flabbergasted. “You play and Stede – I mean Godfrey – you look on longingly. Shouldn’t be too hard, huh?” he says, chuckling.
Stede pokes him in the ribs and whispers, “Shut up,” under his breath, but Ed can still hear it over the sound of him playing.
“Ready when you are, love,” Ed says. The endearment flusters both men, and they clamber around one another for Stede to get into position and Lucius to step behind the camera. They begin shooting, mostly sticking to their lines, but improvising when the mood strikes. At one point Ed makes a flirty innuendo joke that he worries is a bit out of the time-period, so he turns to Lucius to check in.
“Oh no, I love this, keep going. Play off one another as much as you want. We’ll edit later, keep the best bits in, and take out the rest, but please do flirt away,” he says, beaming at them.
As the day wears on and night falls, the scene flows onto the dancefloor, the extras in a tight circle around them to make the room seem full after the post-editing movie magic. It evolves into Jeffery leading Godfrey out to the terrace, by which time the sky has turned deep navy blue and the full moon is bright in the sky.
Godfrey is shy but playful, and he pulls Jeffery against him at the terrace’s edge, the camera zooming in to a close-up of his lips against Jeffery’s ear as he whispers, “Catch me if you can.” He then flashes a big, sly smile and darts into the hedge labyrinth. Jeffery gives chase as an operator on a steady cam follows close behind. In the center of the hedge labyrinth is a pavilion conveniently covered in silk and velvet throw pillows. Godfrey leans against the railing of the pavilion next to a candelabra with three tall white candlesticks, waiting for his suitor. Jeffery takes the steps two at a time to reach his man, taking him into his arms at once and dipping him over the railing as he leans into his space.
“May I kiss you?” he whispers, their lips only a breath apart. Godfrey nods, but Jeffery doesn’t move, his eyes moving slowly from Godfrey’s lips to his eyes. He quirks a brow in the silence.
“Yes,” Godfrey breathes at last. “Please,” he adds, verbally consenting enthusiastically.
Jeffery closes the distance and presses his lips to Godfrey’s. Lit only by the full moon, candlelight, and the diffused lights of the mansion, Godfrey’s skin glows golden and Jeffery melts into the shadows.
As the kiss deepens, the cameras fade away. The buzz of the electronics dim and the song of the country crickets chirp in the gardens surrounding them. Ed’s focus singles in on Stede, and everything else falls away.
A small moan escapes Stede’s lips, and Ed chases it, pushing his body against Stede’s until it’s pressed against the railing, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. He pulls back to take a breath, with just enough time for Stede to pull him by the lapels of his jacket and spin them, their positions reversed with Ed’s ass pushed up against the railing and Stede’s hands running down the front of Ed’s chest to push his jacket open and off his shoulders. The jacket falls off, and Ed begins unbuttoning his shirt while Stede starts at the buttons of his trousers. Before Ed knows it, Stede is on his knees, staring up at Ed, the moon shining bright behind, haloing his body in an ethereal glow.
“May I?” Stede asks.
“Fuck yes,” Ed responds quickly before Stede licks a long strip up Ed’s cock, making his whole body jolt with a shock of sensation.
Groaning, Ed tosses his head back and his eyes catch on the stars. You don’t see stars like that in the city , he muses, then gazes back down at his scene-mate, who has stars in his eyes just as bright. He takes the head of Ed’s cock into his mouth and laps his tongue around in a sloppy circle, turning his head to the side to mouth along the shaft and lifting the weight of it to kiss and lick at Ed’s balls.
“Fuuuuck,” Ed moans, clutching the railing behind him so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Ste-” he begins, then catches himself. Stede looks up at him, brows raised, and smiles before taking him into his mouth, fully engulfing his cock in wet, warm, heat. “God! Godfrey,” Ed corrects, “my darling, my love, your mouth. It has bewitched me,” he adlibs and Stede almost chokes on a muffled giggle as he gulps down more of Ed’s length.
Before he can’t take anymore, Ed stills Stede with a firm hand on his shoulder, breathing heavily and flushed from his cheeks down to his cock. “My turn,” he says, tipping Stede’s chin up with his forefinger and bending down to kiss him. His legs are so wobbly from the blowjob that he topples into Stede a bit and they laugh as they tumble into the nest of pillows. He pulls Stede against him, laying on their sides as they continue to kiss, exploring one another’s mouths and bodies, undressing their complicated costumes with as much finesse as they can.
They disrobe everything, save the stockings, Ed’s black socks contrasting beautifully with Stede’s light baby blue ones. Ed finally gets to see what Stede is packing once the bloomers are discarded, and wow.
No notes. God-tier. What a cock.
He takes a moment, kneeling between Stede’s legs as he lays back on the pillows, legs spread for Ed’s exploration.
“Gorgeous cock,” Ed murmurs, unaware and uncaring if the mic catches it. He grasps the great girth of it and slides his palm up the soft velvety skin before dipping down to take it into his mouth. Right before the bead of precum touches his tongue, he glances up to catch Stede’s eye. “Can I taste you?” he asks.
Stede nods so hard that his whole body shakes. “Yes yes yes,” he urges.
Ed needs no further prompting to become as well-acquainted with Stede’s dick as he’s physically capable of. He kisses, licks, and tongues the length of it up, down, and back again. He runs his lips and teeth against the sensitive flesh, earning a brief yelp and giggle. He takes as much as he can into his throat, swallowing and constricting his neck muscles around the tip, eliciting delicious moans of pleasure from Stede.
~ ~ ~
Stede’s mind is reeling. The scene is going so much better than he could have ever imagined.
They don’t fuck as much as they make tender love to one another, getting so lost in the scene that they completely forget about the crew. It’s just the two of them as Ed eases himself down onto Stede’s cock, having prepped himself beforehand like the consummate professional he is. A strategically placed oil bottle appears at the side of the pillow next to them to help lube the way. It’s just the two of them when he rides Stede’s cock like a mechanical bull, slow and steady rocks of his hips while bracing himself with his hands on Stede’s chest. It’s just the two of them when Stede notices Ed grimacing at the twinge in his knees and he pulls Ed into his chest and rolls them over into the pillows to lay Ed out on his back and thrust into him with slow, careful strokes. It’s just the two of them as Stede praises Ed for being so beautiful, noting how perfectly their bodies fit.
The embroidered pillows press patterns of flowers and leaves into Ed’s back as he’s lost in the ecstasy of Stede’s praise and adoration. His updo is a lost cause, curls falling loosely beside his head as he thrashes in pleasure, the occasional pin tumbling to the wooden pavilion below them with a light clink against the floorboards.
Stede arches his body up into Ed, hands lifting Ed’s hips to angle him, the head of his cock pressing perfectly against Ed’s prostate. Ed shouts and clutches onto Stede’s impressive forearms. “Fuck yes, there. Oh God, fuck, I’m close!” he pants.
Stede spits into his palm and takes Ed’s cock in hand, stroking firmly and coaxing Ed’s release out of him. “That’s it, darling. Come for me,” he urges, his voice soft in the quiet candlelight. His body glistens with a light sheen of sweat, and they make eye contact right before Ed’s body starts to spasm. The pressure of his orgasm presses down and around Stede’s cock like a vice, making him shout and come in turn.
Ed wraps his hand loosely over Stede’s fingers, curled tightly around Ed’s cock, as he comes, spurting up his body into his dark chest hair. They never stop gazing at one another, maintaining eye contact through their orgasms. Stede half collapses over Ed, bracing his hands on either side of Ed’s head as he comes down, panting into Ed’s mouth then leaning their foreheads together just to breathe.
The candlesticks have burned down to short nubs, their wicks flickering in the slight breeze. Ed and Stede’s skin glows with a blue tint in the moonlight.
“Wow, guys that was great,” a voice says somewhere beside them.
Both Ed and Stede blink at the intrusion then look to their side to find Lucius sitting cross-legged at the steps of the pavilion.
He clasps his hands together in front of his chest. “Truly. You two took my vision and breathed life into it! I couldn’t have asked for better actors,” he says.
Stede turns back to Ed, and they’re both startled back to reality. He glances down at where their bodies are still connected. “Fuck,” Stede whispers, then tucks his head into Ed’s neck and his shoulders start to shake.
Ed wraps his arms around Stede’s back, rubbing in circles, apparently concerned, but Stede eases his worry when a giggle escapes him into Ed’s neck. Ed can’t help but start to laugh too. They were so lost in the scene they both forgot anyone else was there. When was the last time he laughed during sex, Stede wonders. Ed’s hands rub up and down Stede’s back as they giggle in one another’s arms.
“Okay, okay,” Lucius says. “We’ll get out of your hair. We have all we need. You two hit the showers. Your robes are right here when you need them. We’ll give you some privacy,” he says. Ed remembers reading that Lucius started as a performer first, so he knows the kind of aftercare some performers might want after an intense scene. The crew filters off the pavilion and takes their equipment with them, leaving the two men to cuddle up in their robes and wipe their sticky bodies off with warm towels.
Their robes from the trailer must have been sent for during their scene, as they are folded up in neat squares where Lucius had said they’d be. They both wrap themselves up and lay back on the pillows to take a breather. Stede takes a risk and opens his arms up to invite Ed in. Despite everything they just did, he smiles shyly and pushes into Stede’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and snuggling in close. They both sigh, deep breaths in and out in unison.
“That’s the most fun I’ve had on a shoot in years, maybe ever, and I’ve been doing porn for a long time, Stede,” Ed admits.
“Well, that was my first time, but I honestly don’t think anything could ever top that,” Stede responds.
Ed hums in thought. “I dunno. I have some fantasies if you’d like more ideas to storyboard.”
Stede turns to perch up on one elbow and looks down at Ed. “Oh? Do share,” he says, lifting one hand to play with one of the bows in Ed’s beard.
Ed grasps Stede’s hand and brings it to his lips. “If I get to play opposite you again, there isn’t much I wouldn’t agree to,” he says, kissing Stede’s knuckles.
Stede’s hand surges forward to wrap around Ed’s neck to pull them close. “Is this okay?” he asks before Ed closes the distance and locks their mouths together. Stede’s hand slides up into Ed’s curls, ruining them all the more, as he pulls Ed toward him to deepen the kiss.
Ed pulls back, dazed, and licks the taste of Stede off his lips. “This? This is perfect,” he says. He turns to his side and curls into Stede, pulling their bodies together in a full-body hug.
“Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this,” Stede whispers, looking at the stars, unable to make eye contact when he says something so vulnerable.
“You aren’t,” Ed whispers back, the words warm onto the side of Stede’s temple.
Stede pulls back so he can look Ed directly in the eye. “It’s not just the movie magic?”
Ed chuckles. “I didn’t fuck Godfrey tonight,” he says.
Stede smiles. “I didn’t fuck Blackbeard tonight either. I made love to Edward Teach.”
Ed’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears as he exhales slowly. He squeezes his eyes shut, seemingly overcome with emotion, and pulls Stede in for another kiss, this one just a press of their lips as Ed composes himself. Their breathing normalizes, evens, and blends in harmony with one another as their racing hearts calm down. “I’d love to return the favor,” Ed says, pushing his thigh between Stede’s legs and pressing their cocks together, Ed’s now plump with renewed interest and the lingering effects of the pre-shoot Viagra.
Stede gasps with a choked laugh. “Oh, yes. Yes, please. Let’s take this back to the trailer. I have a fabulous whirlpool tub in mine,” he says, blowing out the last nubs of the candlesticks.
Ed chuckles, shaking his head. “A full bathtub in a trailer, that’s overkill. You’re a lunatic and I like it.”
“I’m glad,” Stede says, taking his hand and holding it as they make their way back to the trailer.
The moonlight glows, the crickets sing, and Stede’s hand, and heart, have never felt so warm.