Man of the Year

by Bianca Giovanni

  I’m in front, but I take a quick peek back at Lola as they lead us to some couches in a small circle that must be the ultra-VIP section. Her head is turning every which way as she looks around. All these rooms have stripper poles and there are two girls dancing on one right now. Lola’s never been to a strip club, so she seems a little surprised at the way the fully naked girls are grinding and bending. One of them spreads her legs really wide as she hangs on with her arms and twirls around and Lola blinks a few times like she can’t believe it. These stripper chicks are strong. They work that fuckin’ pole and they’re like sexy, naked gymnasts. Maybe she appreciates the athleticism.

  We get to the couches and a girl comes around and brings us drinks, all the sponsored cocktails of the evening. They’re named funny stuff to fit with the sexy theme. I ask her for a water for Lola, because I’m a little worried that she’ll get dehydrated if she dances and the only liquid in her body is champagne.

  I get to sit next to her this time and I put my arm around her so I can kiss into her hair. She smells really nice and I like this view because I can see a little more of her cleavage from here.

  Emily Drake, one of the girls from my Best Threesome scene, sees us and she comes right over. She plops down next to me and she starts rubbing my back and putting her hand on my thigh as we all talk. I notice Lola turning a little so she’s facing more towards Chad as I talk to Emily. Hmm. Maybe she’s just not sure what to say to Emily.

  Pretty soon, Lola decides that she wants to try another party and I wonder why she seems so antsy.

  I don’t really want to take her to the next party because it’s hosted by a bondage company and I know that kind of shit usually freaks her out. After our little adventure with the blindfolds, I’m hoping she doesn’t find it as scary.

  I’m not sure what to make of her body language when she sees that these waitresses are girls with spiked collars and nipple clamps. All of them are tattooed up and they all have jet-black hair and black panties. They’re acting like classic subs and addressing everyone as Master or Mistress. It’s all part of the vibe—that Dom/sub sex club feel.

  I see several girls I’ve worked with around the place and I kind of want to make the rounds and say hello to everybody, but I’m not sure if Lola’s up for it. She seems a little timid right now. Not necessarily cold, just quieter than usual. I’m thinking it’s because she’s getting a little tired, which is understandable considering how full our day has been.

  I’m glancing around when Lola grabs for my hand.

  “Go talk to everyone,” she says. “I know you want to say hi to all your friends.”

  It’s like she can read my mind. “Are you sure?” I ask her. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Go,” she says, waving her hands.

  “I love you, babe,” I smile at her and kiss her forehead as I get up from our little area and head towards the bar to greet some people.

  I’m chatting with three of my co-stars when I glance back at the couches. Lola’s not there and I get a little twinge of panic. I don’t want her wandering off by herself. I need to keep an eye on her and take care of her. She’s never been to a party like this and I feel like I should protect her from some of the crazier shit that goes on.

  My eyes meet Alejandro’s and he mouths “bathroom” to me. I nod and give him a thumbs up. Good, she just went to the bathroom. She’ll be ok.

  When I turn my head again, I see Tara Morgan coming towards me. She’s got a look that says she’s hunting for some dick and I’m certainly hoping she doesn’t think I’m going to give it to her.

  “Hey, sexy,” she smiles and stands right in front of me as I sit on a barstool. I actually have to open my knees a little because she keeps pushing closer.

  “Hey, Tara,” I reply, trying to be friendly and not flirty.

  “I’m glad you won,” she says. “You deserve it more than any other fuckin’ guy in this industry!”

  She leans closer and I laugh. What are you doing, Tara?

  “Well, congrats to you too. You got one tonight.” I say, trying to be polite.

  “Fuck yeah, I did!” she giggles. “Everyone knows how good I am and you know how much I love sucking your big, fat cock.”

  I snicker and shake my head at her. Blunt as usual.

  “You liked it too, didn’t you?” she says in a sexy purr. “You liked fucking my throat. Just like you liked it last year when I sucked your cock in the bathroom at the show.”

  She just had to bring that up. Tara and I have a little bit of a history at these awards. It’s kind of complicated. She wants me bad, has for a while, and she always flirts with me really hard at these after-parties. For the past few years, she and I have ended up getting all horny and hooking up, but it’s never a big deal—at least for me. A lot of the time, it’s more of a business thing. We try shit out, see what we like and what we might want to do in future scenes. For example, three years ago she said she’d never tried a double penetration, so she asked me and this dude Blade Prescott to double-team her back at her hotel room. We did and then she ended up booking a DP scene the week after because she said she liked it so much. It was just a way for her to give it a shot and see if it was something she wanted to do in the future. I’ve purposely withheld this information from Lola because I know she doesn’t like Tara anyway and the concept of three friends trying a double penetration for shits and giggles would not fly with her.

  “Mmm, my mouth is watering just thinking about it,” Tara says, leaning closer to me and running her hand up my chest.

  “It was a hot scene, but those days are done for me,” I reply, trying to be polite as I take her wrists and slide her hands down off of me.

  “Don’t be like that,” she says, getting even closer and draping her arms over my shoulders. “You used to be so much fun. Remember the night we fucked in the limo on the way back from Tryst? Or the time you ate my pussy in the elevator?”

  I try not to look her in the eye. Normally this shit wouldn’t bother me, Tara’s always pretty goddamn direct, but I’m not into it anymore and it kind of creeps me out.

  “I've always loved your tongue. Not surprised you won that award tonight,” she says with this lusty smile that implies she’s got one thing on her mind.

  “Tara, come on,” I say, urging her to let up a little.

  “How about one more tonight?” she purrs. “I know you’re with your girl or whatever, but how about one last lay before you lock yourself into boring sex with that girl for the rest of your life,” she says with an eye roll.

  “Nah, not happening,” I shake my head.

  “You don’t want my mouth?” she says, leaning way forward and pressing her chest into me. “Then how about my ass? Bet you’re not getting that from your little girlfriend,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Seriously, Tara, no,” I say, grabbing her hips and nudging her away.

  “Let’s see if you change your mind,” she says, tightening her hold on me and pulling me close.

  She kisses me. It’s aggressive and passionate, lots of tongue. Her fingers grip my hair and she leans her body into me really hard before she lets one of her hands reach down and rub my dick over my pants.

  I draw in a sharp breath and push her back a little harder.

  She gives me a quizzical look like she can’t figure out why the fuck I’d reject her.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask her, feeling the anger start to swell in my voice.

  “Kissing you, sexy. Why’d you push me away? You don’t like my mouth anymore?” she replies, giving me a flirty pout.

  “No, I don’t like it anymore,” I frown, shaking my head. “I don’t like anything you do anymore.”

  She looks totally insulted.

  “I’m with Lola,” I say. “I’m only with Lola.”

  “What the hell happened to you, James?” she scoffs. “Since when did you become Prince fucking Valiant? What, you’re a fucking choir boy now that you’ve had some prissy
little virgin pussy?”

  “You need to shut your mouth right now,” I warn her.

  “And you need to relocate your balls,” she spits back. “Jesus, who are you now? You’re acting like you’re some kind of moral fucking angel and we all know what you really are. You’re just like the rest of us, so don’t try to pull all that righteous ‘I’m in love’ bullshit now.”

  “I’m not pulling any bullshit, Tara,” I snap. “I have a fuckin’ fiancée now. She’s gonna be my goddamn wife! The last thing I’d ever think of doing is fucking around on her with somebody else.”

  “You can’t change who you are, James,” she says like she totally sure of it. “You like fucking me—that’s who you are. Why are you trying to pretend you’re something you’re not?”

  “That’s not who I am anymore,” I shake my head. “Besides, don't sit here and try to act like you fuckin’ knew me so well before all this. You don’t know me, Tara. You’re just a girl I fucked, just like almost every other girl at these awards. Take a look around the room. You’re no different from half the girls in here.”

  “Then why’d you always come back for more?” she says when I start to get up. “You can say whatever you want, but you always came back to me. Every single AVAs, James, you’d be in my bed at the end of the night.”

  “Because you were the easiest girl around,” I scoff. “You were the one who was always eager to spread her legs for me. I didn’t even have to fuckin’ try with you. You were just walking around hungry for my dick.”

  “I seem to remember that the feeling was pretty fucking mutual!” she says angrily. “I didn’t make you fuck me, James. You wanted to fuck me. You wanted me every which way all night long. Don’t even try to act like you don’t still want it.”

  “Fuck off, Tara,” I shake my head at her. “You don’t know shit.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see!” she shouts as I walk away from her.

  I’m pissed. What the fuck was she thinking? She honestly believed I’d cheat on Lola with her? My hands are clenched into fists and I know I have a scowl on my face as I head back to the couches.

  Lola’s still not there and I’m confused. She couldn’t be in the bathroom this long.

  “Where’d she go?” I ask Chad.

  “She texted and said she was going back to the room,” he replies.

  “She say why?” I ask.

  “No, she just said she was going back and to tell you if you asked,” he shrugs.

  “Why didn’t she come get me?” I wonder.

  “Don't know,” Alejandro replies. “Maybe she was just giving you time to finish doing your thing.”

  “You think she was planning to surprise me in there?” I grin. “Like, maybe something sexy?”

  Chad rolls his eyes and Alejandro laughs. “I think she was thinking more along the lines of getting some sleep,” Chad chuckles.

  “Fuck sleep,” I grin, “I wanna celebrate with her.”

  “You’re addicted!” he teases. “You need to give that poor girl some recovery time if you’re going to go at her constantly like that.”

  I snicker. “Hey, she wants it just as bad as I do. She’s all over me too,” I reply.

  “I’m surprised she can walk with how much you guys do it,” he jokes.

  Alejandro laughs loudly and I feel like I’m blushing. Me and Lola do fuck a lot and, even though I’m in a room full of people who fuck for a living, I’m a tiny bit embarrassed at how little self-control I have when it comes to her.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Chad snickers. “Go find her and celebrate your win.”

  My mood has completely shifted and I don’t give a second thought to Tara and her bullshit seduction attempt. I’m beaming as I nod my head and say goodnight to the dudes.

  Chapter 8 - Lola

  I’m sitting with Chad on the red leather couch trying my hardest to smile and act like I’m having a good time. I’ve switched to water, which is probably a wise choice considering that I’m repressing a lot of inner turmoil right now and alcohol would only put a magnifying glass over that.

  When we came into this party, a girl with shiny, chrome nipple clamps handed us drinks and made some kind of sexy comment at James. I would have made a mental note of it, but if I started taking inventory of how many girls have said flirtatious things to James I’d have to start working in exponents or astronomical units to calculate the total. He’s prom king at this place and girls are salivating over him. No joke, I think I saw one girl nearly start drooling when he smiled at her.

  It’s like something out of Caligula in here right now. There are topless waitresses with black bob wigs running around in vinyl fetish gear passing out drinks to people who need no alcohol to let loose. When we came in, I saw a girl going down on another girl in a corner while some guy filmed it with his phone. It’s late into the night and people have gotten very familiar, so there’s a lot of sloppy making out, languid groping, probing fingers, frenetic tongues and far-from-accidental nip slips.

  I’m bummed out. Well, maybe I’m more perturbed than bummed out. I’m on edge because I’m so outrageously uncomfortable here, in this room, with these people. Just yesterday, they seemed normal enough—perhaps a bit more open with their sexuality, but relatively well behaved. Tonight, they’re hyped up from the awards and they’re looking like sex zombies, swept up in a plague of unquenchable lust. I don’t fit in here. This isn’t my scene.

  The worst part is that James doesn’t seem to care. I guess, more accurately, he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s riding this wave and basking in the praise of every single person he encounters. I feel bad for being angry with him, though, because this is a big deal for him and I should be proud of all he’s achieved. I’ve been making a very considerable effort to keep my neurosis on the down low so I won’t ruin his night, but it’s tough. I keep telling myself that it’s just one day out of 365. I can let him have this. I just have to suck it up and roll with it for now.

  “You ok, sugar?” Chad asks me, rubbing my back and craning his neck around so he can force me to look at him.

  “I’m fine,” I nod and feign a smile.

  “Are you sure?” he says with a kind gaze. “You definitely don’t look fine.”

  “Gee, thanks!” I sarcastically reply with a laugh.

  “You know what I meant,” he grins and tugs me into his side, pressing his lips to my ear and kissing the side of my head.

  “Actually, I could use a bathroom break,” I say in response, side-hugging him back.

  “There’s one right there down that hallway,” he smiles, pointing me past a cluster of people.

  “Thanks, babe,” I smile, kiss his cheek and get up.

  As I’m making my way over, I see a cluster of people gathered around watching something. Curiosity is one of my best and worst traits, so I walk a little closer to try to get a glimpse of what on earth would have a room full of pornographers so enthralled.

  Peeking between shoulders, I see a blonde girl who doesn’t even look like she’s old enough to drink. She’s on all fours on a red couch and she’s sucking off a man in front of her while another guy is behind her, plowing her doggy style. I gulp loudly, but everyone is too enraptured to notice.

  A man in the crowd whom I think I saw in one of the clips tonight whips it out and nudges the guy currently being orally serviced out of the way. The girl hungrily takes him into her mouth and starts sucking furiously while he holds the back of her head, bobbing her up and down.

  My jaw has dropped and I can’t even believe my eyes. It’s like a car crash, one of those horrifying things you see where you can’t help but look, even though you know it’s going to be gruesome. I silently wonder if she even knows the man currently fucking her throat or if this is all some kind of attention thing for her. There are a couple men recording it with their phones, but I know that nobody’s being paid for this, so it doesn’t seem like it’s work-related.

  The man behind her pulls her legs open more an
d spits on her butt, rubbing it down between her cheeks. I think I know what’s coming next and I cringe inwardly.

  “Put it in her ass!” a man in the crowd yells.

  I draw in a sharp breath as Backdoor Exhibitionist Guy gives the “audience” a big smile and then rams into the girl’s back passage. Yikes!

  I flinch for her and she gasps, because anyone could see that the initial plunge was probably painful, but then she returns to sucking off one of the three men who are now presenting themselves to her like a penis buffet.

  The crowd is cheering her on and shouting instructions.

  “Suck that cock, slut!”

  “Take it, whore!”

  “Tear that fucking ass up, bro!”

  It’s humiliating. It’s demeaning. It’s harsh and mean spirited and wrong, but she’s happily allowing herself to be debased. In fact, the more they degrade her, the more enthusiastically she services them. It baffling to me, but everyone here seems to think it’s no big deal, like a random fuck-and-suck is nothing out of the ordinary and it’s just expected that this is what girls will do.

  In my head, I hear the Eurythmics.

  Some of them want to use you.

  Some of them want to get used by you.

  Some of them want to abuse you.

  Some of them want to be abused.

  This is getting too real for me. I’m a bit queasy from how troubling I find this whole display. I have no problem with people enjoying sex, even sex of the more unconventional variety, but I think this takes it overboard. I realize that many people argue that porn objectifies women, but here’s a woman truly being objectified and this isn’t on a set, it’s real life. She’s basically a receptacle for these guys, just a trio of available orifices—and it’s not a shoot, so she’s not even getting paid.

  I shake my head like I can erase what I just saw and I return on the path to the bathroom.

  Like some kind of bitchy, whorish moon eclipsing my sun, Tara Morgan suddenly steps in front of me.