“Now that our leading man has overcome his drinking problem, let’s get this show on the road!”
I nearly ripped the megaphone out of Ken’s hand and stuffed it down his throat.
The crew sprang into action as lights were repositioned and run through their different settings. Filters were changed out, seemingly at Ken’s whim, brightness was adjusted, some lights were even swapped out entirely only to be changed back to where they’d been when they started.
For someone who was so pissed off that I wasn’t on set on time, there sure seemed to be a lot of shit left to do before we could start shooting.
My costar huffed out a long, bored breath beside me.
“Has he been like this all morning?”
“Yep,” she confirmed, “at least he’s not throwing things anymore. He really doesn’t like you or your brothers very much.”
I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, causing the leather to strain against my bulk, “There are a lot of people who don’t like my family. The Westboro Baptists picketed our house once. Now that’s a special brand of stupid right there.”
She laughed quietly, showing the first sign that she wasn’t an absolute ice queen, “I worked with Parker once. He told me the story. Did they really stand out there for two days with signs and yell at you guys every time you came out of the house?”
“Yup. Poor Preston was only about six at the time. He didn’t understand what the hell was going on. He had snuck out to play and they yelled and screamed at him until he ran back into the house in tears. My mom had to lock me in the bathroom to keep me from going out there and doing something stupid. My dad was off on some shoot, of course, so I felt like it was my job, as the man of the house, to make them leave.”
“Did Parker really shoot off a shotgun to get them to leave?”
It was my turn to laugh.
“No,” I smiled, “I’m surprised he told you that version instead of the one where he lobbed a beehive into the middle of them. That’s always been his favorite. Unfortunately, the real story is a bit mundane. We just stayed inside for so long that they got bored and went away. If you go to their website, I think there’s still a page where they brag about the two-day stand they took against moral corruption outside the Ruff House. Those people are whack jobs.”
“If you two are done,” the megaphone screeched, “you have paychecks to earn.”
“I’m gonna kill him before this is through,” I growled to her through gritted teeth.
“Not if I beat you to it,” she chirped. The million-dollar smile on her face could’ve fooled even me.
At least I finally got to work with someone with some acting skills!
Unfortunately, it turned out that her only real ability was smiling.
Staging was tedious at best. Blocking was like trying to teach a cat to play dead. The girl just didn’t get it. Luckily, the script wasn’t too complicated. She only had to have her lines read back to her a dozen times each.
Ken had blown through an entire pack of cigarettes before the cameras even started rolling.
“Clear the set!” he screamed into his microphone.
Finally, it was time to start shooting.
I made my way over to the fluffer. She was probably in her early twenties. Mid-length brunette hair, too much eye makeup, and a tan so dark you could tell she spent at least four days a week in a tanning bed. Her eye shadow was silver over her greyish-green eyes and her lipstick, as she took my cock in her mouth, was Barbie pink.
I let my head fall back and stared up into the darkness of the rafters over head while she did her business.
Ken called Chardonnay back on scene and that was my cue. I retrieved my now-stiff anatomy from the pearly-pink clutches of Hooker Barbie and did my best to tuck it back into the tight leather.
It looked like I had a nine and a half inch club vacuum-sealed to my leg.
I shook my head over the cheesy representation of BDSM and walked into frame.
“It’s my fantasy, right?” Chardonnay asked in a low, smoky voice, “That means I can make you do whatever I want, right?”
I crossed my arms in front of me causing my biceps to bulge and strain against the harness and my pecs to swell into massive pads of muscle. I just nodded my head slowly in response to her question.
She reached over to the wall of toys that had been wheeled next to the bed, “I wanna start with this one.”
She grabbed the flogger off the rack and slapped it gently against her palm. It was black leather, about eighteen inches in total length, with dozens of strips that, if used properly, could leave tiny little welts without causing any actual damage.
I held out my hand and waited for her to place the handle in my palm.
Instead of doing what had been blocked out, she shook her head and bit her bottom lip. She ran the handle of it between her legs and curled a finger at me, motioning for me to join her on the bed.
Knowing that sometimes you just had to go with your gut, I chose to follow her lead. Ken hadn’t called cut yet, so I didn’t really have much choice.
The moment my hands and knees hit the mattress, she sprang on me like a tiger, bringing the business end of the flogger down on my lower back and ass.
“That’s for keeping me waiting,” she moaned as I grunted in surprise. I pressed her down on her back and bit her collarbone. She brought the leather straps down once again, causing my hips to jerk forward and rub my leather-clad cock against her thigh. “That one was just for fun,” she whispered in my ear.
So that’s how you wanna play it, huh?
I grabbed her wrist the next time she lifted her arm and stopped its descent before she could make contact again. I pried the hard leather handle from her palm and threw the thing across the room.
It was my turn to play.
I reached over to the wall of toys and drew a four-foot strand of satin into the bed with us. She smiled pretty for the camera before closing her eyes and lifting her head to be blindfolded.
Instead, I jerked her arms above her and quickly tied them to the bed.
“The best part of a fantasy,” I growled against her neck, “is how quickly it can become reality.”
Her body arched beneath me, thrusting her tits into my chest and her hips into my groin.
I made a meal out of her, nipping, licking, and kissing my way over her mostly-exposed breasts. I left the corset in place, but quickly unsnapped the garter belts attached to her panties and rolled the thigh-high socks down to the ends of her toes, massaging her long, firm legs as I went.
She squirmed with each flick of my tongue as I made my way back up to the inside of her thighs.
She let out a pealing squeal of pleasure and ground her mound against my face the first time I thrust my tongue inside of her.
That just wouldn’t do.
I grabbed the ball gag from the rack and quickly secured the metal clasp at the back of her head before flipping her over so that she was forced to support her weight with her elbows and her knees. The satin had twisted with her, drawing her hands tighter to the metal frame.
I lay down on my back with my head between her legs. She was smooth and swollen as I sucked her clit into my mouth. I applied pressure to it with my lips as I quickly flicked my tongue back and forth. She moaned against the rubber ball in her mouth and squeezed my face with her thighs.
I reached down and quickly freed my dick from the crushing pressure of the leather pants. It sprang into my hand like a lightsaber to a Jedi and I began a slow, gentle rhythm that would look good for the camera without taking me too close to the edge.
I focused on the technicalities of what I was doing. I did my best to be mindful of camera angles, lighting problems, and the fact that we needed to get a good forty-five minutes of footage out of the shoot before we could go. I also tried my hardest to ignore the camera guy with the raging hard-on practically on top of my left hand.
I slid my limb away from the offending bulge and slipped two fingers
into Chardonnay. Her body jolted at the sudden intrusion and her slick entrance clamped down around the digits, crushing them in its warmth. The muscles slowly loosened up as I twisted my wrist and slowly pulled out of her while still working her with my mouth.
Another twist of the wrist and I plunged my fingers back inside her. Her body rocked backward to meet me this time and we quickly fell into a gentle rhythm.
The next time she tightened around my fingers it was accompanied by a moan as her orgasm trickled down my wrist. I continued working both of our sexes with my hands and lapped at her slit with my tongue as she rode out the wave of her first climax.
When the pulsing around my fingers finally subsided and her entire body shuddered above me, I finally slid them out of her and rose behind her with my cock still in my hand.
I used my free hand to pull my next toy off the rack and smiled when her eyes sparked with desire.
It was a riding crop about the length of my forearm. The handle fit comfortably in my palm. The two-inch keeper at the other end of the fiberglass rod was a soft and flexible strip of leather.
I flicked her hair out of the way and pressed the cool leather to her cheek, “I don’t remember telling you to come.”
I freed my other hand and used it to unlace the corset she was still cinched into. Once the back fell open and the lace and bone contraption fell to the bed, I slowly trailed the crop down her neck and spine.
When I reached the mounds of her now-bare ass, I lifted the crop several inches and brought it down on her with a snap. Not hard enough to cause any real pain, but enough to leave a pink spot and a bit of a sting.
I did the same thing on the other cheek.
I placed the crop on the bed next to us and made a show of surveying the rack for my next tool. I already knew which one was going in her next, but we had a job to do and it all had to look good on camera.
I took the medium sized butt plug in my hand and held it up thoughtfully. Her eyes had followed me like a hawk and I saw the smile play around the ball gag when I reached for the lube.
I could see why Brandon had been so excited to watch her work. It’s not very often you come across a porn star who genuinely enjoys their job—especially not the women.
I pressed the slippery toy to her hole and made it appear as if I was pressing it inside of her. In reality, I was letting her press her body backwards onto the point so that it slid in at her pace. It vanished inch-by-inch until it was seated inside of her and only the broad, flat base was visible.
I quickly pulled a vibrator off the shelf, lubed it up, and flashed her a wicked smile. I drove it into her without warning and my dick gave a quick jump of approval at the gasp of surprise that escaped her.
I flicked the switch on the bottom and the thing buzzed to life. I drove it into her again and again, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before she came. She threw her head back, causing her hair to tumble down the perfect curve of her spine. I felt her body tighten around the vibrating latex and she screamed against the rubber gag in her mouth.
I removed the vibrator in one quick motion, causing her to moan sadly at the lack of sensation.
I retrieved the crop from its position next to my knee and brought it down on her ass once more, harder than the last time.
She jumped and moaned as her ass tightened around the plug.
“That’s twice without permission,” I brought the leather-tipped rod down across her ass again, “Why is it so hard to find someone who learns from their mistakes in this city?”
The crop came down once more with a snap before I discarded it on the floor next to the bed.
A stagehand scurried through the shadows to retrieve it then vanished back into the darkness without a sound.
I took my position between her thighs and put the head of my shaft against her slit. Each time she tried to back up onto me, I pulled away just enough to keep myself from entering her. I did this until she had backed up so far that her arms were completely stretched out above her head.
Then I leaned forward, still careful not to push inside of her, and rolled each of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. They stiffened at my touch and she all but pulled her arms out of their sockets in an effort to get me inside her.
I held my hand out for a condom and the same stagehand that had scampered off with the crop dropped one into my palm.
I quickly rolled it on, knowing that the process would be edited out of the final product, and returned my hands to her breasts.
I continued to tease the tiny nubs at their peaks with my fingertips and slid the length of my shaft along her slit. She was so hot that I could feel her heat blowing onto me like a furnace through the condom.
I lowered my left hand to rub quick circles over her clit. She came fast and hard.
I drove myself into her as she rode that high. Buried to the hilt, I sat still and waited for her to finish. Her entire body convulsed with the power of her climax this time and I couldn’t help but take pride in my ability to get her off.
When her body finished shaking, I began to sharply piston my hips into her. I could feel the rubber plug rubbing along the top of my shaft and wondered briefly what it felt like for her.
I slipped my fingers under the strap of the gag at the back of her head and jerked it backwards, “You enjoy being punished, don’t you?” I snarled. I slammed my hips against her ass, driving the plug and my cock even deeper inside of her. She whimpered in response, but the gleam in her eye and the way her body responded to mine told me that she loved every minute of it.
I performed my end of our job spectacularly, making her erupt in fits of ecstasy again and again. She made sure to up the dramatics for the cameras and the director and crew stayed quiet. We both knew how to work it and they knew it.
After her sixth orgasm since the shoot began, I pulled out of her and yanked off the condom with a snap. I’d go all day with one of those damn things in the way. I took matters into my own hands and quickly worked myself to a climax of my own.
As the hot spray of my own orgasm landed across the base of the plug and up her back, she wiggled her ass and moaned. After the heady high of a good orgasm finally cleared, I reached down and slowly removed the plug, discarding it on the floor the same way I had the riding crop.
I brought my open palm down on her flushed ass cheek.
“Maybe next time you’ll remember who’s in charge.”
I walked off set without another word and bee-lined it for the bathroom.
I could hear the chatter of the crew outside the door as they began to wrap up. The whirr of power tools joined the cacophony as they began to tear down the set. I heard Chardonnay’s voice as she passed the door but couldn’t quite tell what she was saying. I didn’t care enough to go find out either.
Moments later, there was a sharp knock on the door and I remembered my “assistant” that I had left on set. Hopefully he had brought me my clothes that I’d left in the closet of a dressing room.
“It’s open!” I called.
When the door swung open, I was surprised to see Ken standing behind me in the mirror.
“What can I do for you, Ken?”
“Nothing,” he replied, trying to sound casual, “I just thought I’d pop in.”
He seemed sheepish.
“You thought you’d pop in? While I wash my dick in a bathroom sink?”
The man blushed. That was the moment I knew I’d seen it all. A porn director had just blushed like a schoolgirl right before my very eyes.
“N-n-n-no,” he stammered and gently closed the door behind him, “I guess I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you got here. After seeing the magic you just worked out there, I can promise you it would have been worth waiting another twelve hours. The things I said earlier were uncalled for. You’ve got talent, kid.”
He left the room without another word. I just stood there, stunned, with my dick in my hand and the water still running in the sink.
The
sound of water hitting the floor pulled me back to reality and I quickly shut off the faucet to stem the flood.
I scrubbed the leftover lube off my hands and groin and was about to make my way back to the dressing room to get out of the damn harness and into my own clothes when there was another knock on the door.
I pulled it open and Brandon stood there with my board shorts, tee shirt, and flip-flops in his hands.
He was decked out in a brand new pair of Diesel jeans and an Affliction tee.
“Where’d the new duds come from?” I asked as I stepped into my shorts.
“The director felt bad for giving me a coffee shower, so he sent someone from wardrobe out shopping during the shoot. You guys kinda kicked ass from what I gather, so everyone pretty much stood around with nothing to do.”
“He also realized that if he ever wanted me to work with him again, he had some ass-kissing to do,” I clarified as I slipped into my sandals, “Let’s blow this joint and get me back to my car.”
We walked companionably back to his black sedan where, out of habit, he opened the back door for me.
Instead of insisting that I ride in the front seat with him, I dropped into the back seat and sprawled out. I wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat and that late in the afternoon; it was going to be a long drive through L.A. traffic.
I needed a power nap.
Becks’ words had been ringing around in my head for days: “When did you become so judgmental, Holly?”
She didn’t think anything of it, but I had been carrying that single question around with me like a hookworm. It had been nearly a week since my failed dinner with Porter and I was beginning to go crazy.
It didn’t make me a bad person to have standards, right? I mean, Porter Hale has more money than Donald Trump, more friends than Oprah, and a sex drive comparable to Ron Jeremy, but we had nothing in common. We couldn’t even get through a simple meal together without drama.
We’ll ignore the fact that my body and my brain had disagreed on how to approach the situation, causing said drama.
Porter (Dick Dynasty #1) Page 9