Work Text:
Jamie finished toweling off his sweaty torso, slipped a pair of baggy shorts on and wandered to the refreshment table. Having sex with work acquaintances could really wear a man out, but working as an adult film star was not something you could really bitch about and garner any sympathy. People were more likely to give you a high five than a pat on the shoulder.
He had agreed to do a heterosexual scene this afternoon because he was a professional after all, but trying to stay “interested” was harder -he’d have to write that one down later- than he thought it would be. The sheila was thin and perky, and absolutely not his type. And there was only so much a little blue pill could do.
He surveyed the table laid out with fresh cold cuts and rolls that smelled heavenly. Thank god for Rutledge Deli. They were a local delicatessen and had no qualms about catering the sets for adult films. They usually sent Lucio, their delivery boy. Lucio always had a new batch of mixes for Jamie to listen to so he was hoping he’d catch him before he left. In the meantime he’d help himself to a sandwich and try to focus on sexier thoughts, so he wouldn’t waste everyone’s time with the final scene. This was why he told the director they needed a fluffer on set. Some big, beefy bloke to strut around and keep him hard would be aces.
He’d have no problem if his partner was - well if his partner looked like that. There was a huge man standing at the end of the table surveying the set and crew. He was almost a foot taller than Jamie and maybe four times as wide. He had incredibly muscled arms and a noticeable gut and his black t-shirt was straining over all of his impressive form. Christ, they must have finally relented and brought on a fluffer for him again. He watched as intimidating hands slid to the back of his pants in an attempt to lift his pants up higher. What a sin against God to cover such a wide and voluptuous backside.
He scampered over and slid his hands down the back of the fluffer’s pants and squeezed. “Hooly dooley, mate, they went all out bringing you on set for me.” Good lord, where had this ass been all his life? It wasn’t some young twink’s tiny bubble butt, or a hard as a rock muscled gluteus like his own. It was wide, soft and fuzzy. Fuck, he wanted to bury his face in it and then use it as his pillow every night.
The man looked behind with a frown. “Move your hands before I break them.”
Jamie’s grin faded. “Aw. Usually, the other bloke lets me.” He slowly removed his hands with a pout, but his eyes stayed zeroed in on the meaty butt before him. “You mind just standing with yer back to me, mate? All of you is bonzer, but yer rump makes me want to slather it in syrup like a glazed ham.”
“My deli is kosher.” The beautiful ass before him turned away as the man faced him, or loomed over him. Details.
“Wut? What’s being Jewish got to do with fluffin’?”
“Rutledge Delicatessen is kosher, we don’t serve pork.”
Jamie’s eyes bugged out briefly as he suddenly realized the rotund god before him with an arse worthy of offering sacrifices to, was not, in fact, the new fluffer. He must be Mr. Ruteledge, Lucio’s boss, and the owner of the deli that was catering the film.
He tittered awkwardly and thought about shifting to hide the signs of his growing interest. Porn set or not, he had just molested an unsuspecting stranger who was big enough to squash him like an insignificant bug. If he squashed him with his ass Jamie would die a happy bug, but death would await him nonetheless.
Mr. Rutledge handed him a business card as he walked past, with an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Let me know if you’re interested in… long pork. Sometimes we make home deliveries.”
Jamie grinned brightly at the card in his hand, and hollered at Mr. Ruteledge as he exited, “Does ‘long pork’ mean ya got a huge snag too!?”