The Universe of Discretion: Legacy Talent

“Hello.” I pressed the phone to my ear with my shoulder, my hands already deep in pizza dough.

“Hi, I’m trying to get in touch with Cezar Long.”

“Who’s asking?” I said, instantly suspicious. I hadn’t heard that name in years.

“I’m Arthur Jonas, talent representative at Poseidon Studios…” He paused, probably waiting for me to react.

“I’m not sure if you got the memo, but I retired almost two decades ago,” I said gruffly. I was already behind on prep, and the restaurant was opening soon.

“Actually, that’s exactly why I’ve been asked to contact you,” Arthur said, sounding way too cheerful.

“Haven’t got all day here, buddy,” I snapped. I hated when people dragged things out—just get to the fucking point already.

“The studio is celebrating thirty years of excellence, and we’d like you to be part of the festivities,” Arthur chirped.

“Festivities at an adult movie studio? What makes you think I’d be interested in that?” I scoffed.

“Well, Poseidon is planning a five-day trip to Barcelona with all expenses covered. The studio is willing to pay you two thousand dollars per scene.”

My phone slipped from my shoulder and landed right in the flour. Was this some kind of prank?

“Hello?”

“Count me in!” I said, already untying my apron.

I’d never been to Europe before. Barcelona was incredible, even though I struggled to communicate with the locals.

Poseidon Studios had rented six HomeAways throughout the city. Mine was in an area called “El Gótico,” one of the oldest neighborhoods.

The hustle and bustle never stopped, and I could barely sleep from all the noise, yet…I hadn’t felt this intensely alive in years.

I shared the apartment with three other guys the studio called “legacy talent.” Basically, it meant we were over forty and fell into the “Daddy” category.

Two of the guys were from after my time, when I no longer looked like a twink on high-def DVDs. Wesley, on the other hand, I definitely remembered.

We’d done a couple of scenes together on a farm upstate back in ninety-four. Fuck, we’d both aged so much!

We were given the first night off to adjust to jetlag but ended up on a terrace with a pitcher of beer. We swapped crazy stories from the good old days until way past midnight.

Early Monday morning, a crew arrived to shoot some exclusive behind-the-scenes footage. We pretended to be caught sleeping naked by a guy named…Eldoris?

He told us beforehand he wanted us to act “natural.” He added that if we didn’t mind giving the camera a casual blowjob or the occasional quickie, the studio was more than happy to pay a little extra.

Sex had been such a huge part of my younger years that I’d been taking it easy ever since I quit. But seeing three buff guys walking around the house with their dicks swinging was definitely turning me on.

El—as I decided to call him—had “caught” Darren with Hector’s dick up his ass in the shower. The crew filmed through a slightly open door, making it look like the perfect voyeur experience.

I really wanted to get my hands on Wesley. To my surprise, I was pretty nervous. Fucking on camera with a whole crew watching was a lot harder than most people thought.

Instead, I decided to grab the camera’s attention by making omelets wearing nothing but an apron.

For my first scene in almost twenty years, I’d been brought to a restored villa just off Passeig de Gracia—the classy shopping street.

I was introduced to my partner, who glanced at me for only a second before disappearing back into his phone. Ted Silver was a bored pretty boy with a perky ass and a shitty attitude.

But holy fuck, did he know how to suck dick! The director had one camera zoomed in on us from the side as Ted gobbled me up, and another aimed at his pucker.

I figured they were going to build anticipation for the eventual fuck by combining the angles in the final cut. We’d been informed all scenes were going to be bareback.

I’d submitted my entire panel of STD tests before even boarding the flight. In my day, studios were still too cautious to allow condomless shoots. How much the industry had changed.

The director called “cut” and gave Ted some pointers. I asked for a bottle of water to calm my nerves. I’d never needed help staying hard in the past, but to my shock, I saw I was starting to go limp.

“Are you going to be able to keep ‘up,’ old man?” Ted asked with a smirk I wanted to smack right off his face. How did he already have his phone in his hand?

“How about you fluff me a bit, kid,” I said, not about to take shit from someone who wasn’t even born yet when I shot my first porno.

Ted shot me a dirty look, but then the director called for us to pick up where we’d left off. Instantly, Ted’s expression shifted from bored to fake horny—like flipping a switch.

We moved through the motions of the scene mechanically, without even a hint of a spark. When the director finally called “cut,” I was pretty sure he’d noticed the lack of chemistry, too.

For viewers, adult entertainment was all about fantasy. But for me, it had always been just a job. Fucking was the one thing I’d always been good at—until I quit and discovered cooking instead.