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Motion Engine: Motion 3.0
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30 seconds, vertical 3: 1.3, bright, clean and filthy, cinematic. A cafe back kitchen at 6am. Stainless steel counters and shelving, white tiled walls, a proofing tray and a pile of baking trays, a mixer, a big open sack of flour sitting on the counter, daylight flooding in through the shopfront window behind them, warm morning sun across the steel. Bright, evenly lit, everything visible. Two muscular naked Black men fucking doggy style, bent over the end of the steel counter. Marcus Brown is Behind, standing and Driving into him as he fucks: a man in his mid-30s, dark skin, tight fade, thick black beard, silver hoop earring, silver chain, blackwork tattoo sleeve on his left arm, built and defined. Joe is getting fucked Bent forward over the counter with both forearms down on the steel, the other man, in his mid-20s: warm light-brown skin, twists on top with shaved sides, beard, silver chain, back arched, glutes flexed, huge thick veined uncircumcised cock swinging underneath him. Flour dust hanging in the morning light, trays rattling, film grain. The man on top is dry and deadpan. The man underneath is breathless and getting flour everywhere. Opening image is Source.0-5s: Already going. The steel counter rattles with every push, trays clattering. Both men have flour dust on them from the counter. The man underneath groans, hands slipping slightly on the steel. The man on top has one hand on a hip, the other steadying a wobbling pile of trays. Audio: clattering trays, wet skin, morning birds outside.5-10s: The man on top knocks the open flour sack with his elbow. A puff of flour goes up and drifts down over both of them, dusting the man underneath's back and shoulders white. He lifts his head, looks at his own floury forearm and says, drily: "You've floured me." The man on top, deadpan: "Adds texture." Audio: flour puff, clattering, laughter.10-16s: The man on top grips both hips with floury hands, leaving two clear white handprints on the man underneath's skin. He looks at them, pleased with himself. The man underneath twists to look back and sees the prints. Neither of them does anything about it. Audio: wet skin, clattering trays, the man underneath's laugh.16-22s: The man on top wipes one floury hand down his own chest, leaving a white streak across his abs and pec, then takes hold of the other man's hips again, now with both hands dusted. More handprints, higher up this time. The man underneath: "How much flour is on this counter?" The man on top, without stopping: "Enough." Audio: laughter, clattering, flour puff.22-27s: Both of them speed up. The trays go over with a crash, one hitting the floor and rolling. Neither man stops or looks. Flour rises off the counter and hangs in the sunbeam above them. The man underneath's hands slide forward on the steel. Audio: crash of trays, rolling tray, hard wet slaps, heavy breathing.27-30s: The man on top looks straight into the lens, grins, holds up one white floury hand and says deadpan: "Don't tell the baker." The frame holds on both of them, floury, handprints visible, trays on the floor, flour still drifting in the light. Audio: clattering, breathing, laughter, birds outside.
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