Q serial: PORN STAR - EP 4

Before launching myself into auditions to launch my porn career I had a number of things I needed to get done. One ) Keep working out. Two) Get new headshots and photos. Three) Find an agent.

For Number One, I was already in good shape, having just finished my tenure as a Harem Boy in Florida. I did need to find a gym nearby or at least a personal trainer to maintain my fitness levels. For Number Three, I guessed it would prove to be difficult to find an agent, or at least a good agent, and I was not even sure I needed one for a porn career. However I was determined to see that I had one in any case; good or bad. However an agent may have wanted me to have updated photos and headshots, as well as buttshots and cockshots and all other shots that may tickle their fancy (I could imagine that most agents would be difficult) so I wanted all bases covered.

I had all relevant photos, nude and clothed in my portfolio as well as on my personal website but the most recent photoshoot I did was at least six months ago. Would a whimsical agent for whom wannabe porn actors are ten-a-penny demand more? If I was not prepared with photos, in shape and ready to go wouldn't he/she/they instantly turn me away? And if it was not an agent then it would be a porn studio that would be assessing me. I couldn't risk losing a chance of a career in porn because I was disorganised. So in keeping with the mantra I learnt from my studies ‘if you fail to prepare, then prepare to fail,' I put together a robust plan as to what to do.

First up I needed new and updated photos. I began to run and eat more carefully to be and feel fully in shape, lose any excess fat and increase muscle definition. I also began researching photographers in Los Angeles. Their fees were extortionate. They got more expensive the more ‘star studded' their portfolios were. I had a limited budget and did not want to spend a large amount of cash on additional photos since I already had some. I just wanted a top-up.

Finally I settled on two photographers: Lloyd and Derrick. Both of them, wanting to grow their portfolio, agreed not to charge me for the photos as long as they could use them, and have ownership of them too. I agreed, seeing that we all got something out of the transaction.

Lloyd was a semi-professional photographer, originally from Wales and in his late 50s. He had lived in LA all his life and yet spoke with a strong Welsh accent. I found him from an online platform for budding photographers. He had a website where he photographed cars, flowers, portraits of men and nude men. Given the quality of his work he seemed to know what he was doing. He took photos of older, rugged and unshaved men, who had a grungy look.

I met Lloyd at his home, driving my dusty rental, over to his house in Yorba Linda. It was a nice area but his house sat ominously and alone on the corner of the street The house had once been painted a dark green that was now left to peel. It was a stark contrast to the other homes on the street, with their perfectly maintained front yards filled with roses and wisteria. I looked twice at the address he sent me, and indeed it was the correct place. I grimaced. ‘Was he legitimate?' I wondered.

I parked my rental in his driveway and walked up the cobbled path to his front door. I was nervous. I was going to count to 10 and if he did not show up I would leave. He turned up as I counted to nine. The door opened to reveal a big, burly man, with a neatly trimmed beard. After letting me in I peered around his front entrance. Like the outside it was messy with dusty surfaces and filled with old newspaper and peeling wallpapers. The drapes were pulled down, shutting out the bright Los Angeles light. It was odd to me. A photographer wanted light didn't he? Why shut it out?

He made short, clipped remarks when he spoke, as if he had a quota on his word count. He told me that he lived in the house with his partner for the last 30 years. I couldn't help but think that perhaps that was the last time it was cleaned too. He also told me that when he was not a photographer he ran one of the gay saunas in Los Angeles. I had never been in but I knew the name. It didn't have the sparkliest reputation as far as gay saunas go.

He led me through his house, through his back garden (also filled with junk) to his studio in his garage. I noticed the heavy drapes that he used as a backdrop from the photos of the men on his website. Half the garage was filled with tools, old TV sets, and dated exercise equipment. The other half was his studio and was complete with the latest technology of cameras and all that went with it. ‘So let's start with a few warm up photos,' he said. ‘Stay clothed and then we can begin undressing and seeing what feeling you want to achieve. You know… sensual, fun, serious.'

‘I bought a bag of clothes for changes,' I said. He waved his hand, gesturing for me to open it up and show him. I complied and opened the bag taking out: a baseball cap, a black thong, leopard-print y-fronts, a mankini, boxing shorts, speedos, my fleshjack. ‘Well… that is a collection,' he said almost mockingly. ‘Why do you need all this stuff?'

‘I want to become a pornstar,' I explained.

He looked me up and down and then said ‘hmmm…'

We began the photoshoot clothed, as a warm up for both of us, before moving over to the photos in underwear and then naked. I posed in my jockstrap, boxing shorts, thongs and even the baseball cap covering my cock that was by then erect and leaking pre-cum, and that Lloyd pretended not to notice.

He gave me good instructions and directions; where to pose and look and how to rotate my body in order to get the best effective shot. He was more about the aesthetic than the pornshoot. I realised that he would rather have made arty, black and white photos of men for a glossy fashion magazine, where everyone seems androgynous and serious, than a fun and colourful pornshoot of a guy holding his dick by the pool. He almost seemed to tut when he spotted my butthole flexing from my horniness as my dick throbbed. ‘Why don't we get some shoots outside in the garden?' I asked him, wanting to get away from the drapes behind me. The tools would have been better to use as a backdrop but he did not want to shoot in that part of the garage so the garden seemed best.

In the sunlight the photos must have instantly come out as better, the sun putting me in a much better mood. Lloyd by contrast struggled in the sunlight and he didn't like kneeling down to get photos of my cock and balls from below. I waded through his lush overgrown garden, filled with green leaves, albeit some dead ones too that he had not cleaned up. The photos and effect were decent: sexy shots with a hint of B-list porn. It wasn't Falcon or William Higgins but it was a start.

A few days later Lloyd emailed me the link to download the photos. The photos he took were good and of high quality but he wasn't a warm man and I believe that that came out in my poses. They were more uncomfortable than they should have been. As a result some of the images did not convey that I was not having fun. It was not the look you wanted to portray as a pornstar and so I hoped to have better luck with Derrick. More on that for next month's episode.