Who knew that when I casually sent a picture of myself off to the guys at Hot Older Male last year, it would take me out of a wet, cold Melbourne, Australia, and into a wet, cold pool in Palm Springs?

Ok, at least the weather was hot when I got out of the water, but swimming endless laps of unheated pools was hardly what I had in mind when I was asked to star in Bear Oasis.  Fortunately, the weather wasn’t the only thing that was hot, as for my first movie ever, I got to work with Truman Hunter, Jeff Wells, and Jake Mitchell, who I have to be honest, has been the object of many a jack-off session.  So I was in seventh heaven sucking Truman’s cock while Jake slid his powerful tool in and out of my more than ready hole.  Jeff Wells was pretty new to the game too, but you wouldn’t know it.  We clicked instantly, resulting in a searing scene, giving a thrill to the watching guests of the Vista Grande Resort, where we filmed.

   
 
But in case you think shooting porn is all fun, let me repeat that all those damn pools were bloody cold!  To get the required shots, I had to jump in, swim the length of the pool entirely submerged, get out, walk around, jump back in again, swim the length, and do it again and again, while the director barked orders from the safety of his banana lounge, Martini in hand.  Exhaustion issues aside, I was a little worried about shrinkage issues.  Thankfully, if you’ve seen Bear Oasis, you can see I needn’t have been so worried – my cock stayed hard enough to hang a wet towel on.

A similar situation awaited me for my scene in San Francisco with Rob Lawrence.  Filming in a shower of questionable cleanliness, we had to shoot in cold water so steam wouldn’t fog up the camera lens.  Cold water, cold tiles, and a freezing cold day outside.  Talk about suffering for your art, and for the viewer’s pleasure.  While we were freezing, the director was standing next to heater, barking orders, Cosmopolitan in hand*.  Rob and I made the best of it – Rob is one the sexiest, sweetest daddies I’ve ever met, and sucking on that monster cock of his I soon forgot the cascade of cold water running down me.

So for my next movie with these guys, I want dry land, no tiling, no water, my own goddamned cocktail, and possibly a bed.  Oh, and as many hot hairy muscle daddies as they can cram into me.  Maybe Allen Silver and David Teal for starters.  Any other suggestions?

* I have to confess, director Walter Romero is not quite the ogre I’ve made him out to be – I’d gladly swim cold pools and writhe on wet tiles for him.  And he does mix a mean cocktail, too…