“Okay, cut!” the director yelled, and the BJ abruptly stopped.
“Wh . . . what?” I pleaded as she extracted my dick from her mouth with a pop.
Her makeup team flocked around her while a single assistant walked up to me and tossed me a pack of wet wipes. “Clean up,” he gestured at my saliva-coated cock. “Next scene in five.”
I just sat there for one of my five minutes and tried to comprehend my situation. First off, I was fucking my porn idol; but she clearly wasn’t into it. I saw it in her eyes, her smile, and I wanted to blame it on the glamour. I could almost convince myself it was the ugly exterior, but the way she said “hello” mirrored every video I’d ever seen about her. It felt like someone punched me in the gut.
“This is why you never meet your heroes,” I mentally sighed as I used the wet wipe to clean up my dick.
GoPro and Littlekittycat69 weren’t that far from me, and I could hear their conversation.
“I could ride him for a bit, reverse cowgirl to give you a good angle,” she suggested.
“Yeah,” GoPro made a box shape with his two hands like he was envisioning the scene. “Then maybe move onto doggystyle. His height will give us a good shot, and we should be able to highlight his huge cock.”
“It’s not that big,” she scoffed.
“For us mere mortals it is, baby,” the gay director shot back. “How should we finish?” he mumbled going over possibilities.
“Don’t make me take a creampie from this guy,” she sighed. “I’ve got two more shoots today, and he’s just . . . blah,” she made a bland noise.
“I know,” they shared a conspiratorial chuckle. “How about we finish with a titty fuck?”
“As long as your people are there to clean me up pronto, I’m good with that,” she agreed. “There’s nothing worse than dry cum in my fur.”
“Okay, back to work, people. Reverse cowgirl, get the cameras in position,” he yelled, and Littlekittycat69 came back over to me.
I was still hard, and without ceremony, she grabbed my dick, turned around, and sat on me. Then we just waited there, my cock enveloped by her warm, wet walls.
“If you feel like you’re gonna cum, say it so we can stop the shoot and settle down,” she ordered, as she positioned her legs to get them as wide as possible. The camera needed the best view of me inside her.
“Ready,” GoPro looked at his leading lady, and she nodded. “Action.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” she started moving up and down on my rod. “Your cock is so huge, Carlos,” she brought a hand up to squeeze her tit while the other balanced on the armrest.
I did my best to enjoy it. I put my hands on her hips and tried to force my cock into her harder, but she was stronger than me, and I wasn’t about to use my troll strength to overpower her. The blowjob was better than reverse cowgirl, mostly because her tail kept whacking me in the face. No one was watching my face in this scene. It was all about my girth parting her pussy’s lips and her bouncing titties.
Doggystyle was better. I was able to bend her over the chair and go to town. Her cries of pleasure might have even been real as I slapped her ass and pounded into her.
Finally, we reached the final shot. She sat there and gave me a handjob for a solid minute before we started the scene. I’d been close by the end of the doggystyle, but sitting around for a few minutes calmed me down. She didn’t want me titty fucking her for ten minutes before I came. She wanted this over with. It was written all over her face.
I was sitting back in the chair while she folded her tits around my cock and moved them up and down. Our own juices lubricated her fur so it didn’t chafe. She didn’t have to do it long. The extra friction from her fur was something else.
“Here it comes,” I announced.
“You were so good, Carlos. That’s what I expect from my fans. Now blow your hot load all over my tits,” she put some extra sex in it just for the occasion.
I gave her what she wanted, and then some. That was the great thing about glamour. It was will made reality by the power inside me. It was the best thing since sliced bread, and Lark told me it could be used for anything. Still, the old satyr probably didn’t expect me to use my power to create a huge cumshot.
“Call it a little payback,” I was more than a little upset my porn hero turned out to be a bit of a bitch.
“Ah!” I gave a loud grunt as I started to cum. She worked it expertly so my cock was exposed for the money shot, and that money shot flew out of my tip and hit her in the chin like I was trying to knock her out with an uppercut.
Surprise registered on her face, and instinctually she looked down. A second, thicker ribbon exploded directly in her face. She had to close her eyes to keep it from blinding her, and I took advantage of that. As she drew back, I grabbed her head with one hand, and kept jerking with the other. Glamour cum streamed out of me, wave after wave; I coated her tits in a thick glaze, her face, and even parts of her taught stomach. The euphoria of my cumshot was gone after the real cum was replaced by glamour, but I still grunted like a rabid animal as I gave her a milky shower.
She sputtered as I managed to get a stream directly down her throat, and I could feel her mentally screaming for the director to yell cut; but this was good stuff. I jizzed on her with the cum of ten men, and no porn director was about to pass that up. GoPro was probably already envisioning his AVN award for Best Blowbang Scene on his mantle.
Finally, with a full body shudder, I gave a final jerk and spurt. It landed with a splat on her legs. Littlekittycat69 was on her knees, on the ground, with me standing over her like a conquering sex hero. My chest heaved from the exertion, and GoPro made sure to do a full three-sixty-degree pan before yelling cut.
“What the fuck, Brandon?” she yelled at GoPro. “Were you going to let him fucking drown me . . .” she continued to lay into the man as I stepped away from the prodigious puddle of spunk on the floor, and walked over to where Dani was standing with her jaw nearly on the floor.
“Glad I didn’t let you cum in me back at school,” her body gave a shiver, as she handed me my clothes.
Layla stood off to the side with a hungry look in her eye. If she was in the bizz – management or talent – I was something they were always on the lookout for: a guy with a huge load. I ignored her as I dressed and then followed her back into the hallway. After the fucking, I was famished, so we headed back toward the VIP lounge.
Halfway there, some pretty little thing nearly ran me over. I felt a snap of static electricity when we collided, but she quickly backed off with an apologetic look.
“Room 212?” she looked at Layla.
Layla pointed down the hall, and the young, promising – by the shape of her ass – pornstar rushed off to do her job. I watched her run for a second before turning back in the direction of the VIP lounge.
Littlekittycat69 might have been a disappointment to meet in person, but that was the first time I’d emptied my balls in days, and I was feeling a little frisky. It seemed my Fae gifts came with an increased healing factor. Since I was tapping into them for the glamour, my libido rebounded before lunch was even over.
“The rest of the day is looking up,” I smiled as I munched on a pickle.
Chapter 15
I studied the crystal in my hand. It was the vibrant color of lilacs in full bloom, and as it caught the florescent lighting overhead, it shot rays of purple across my face. Crystals were used for many things in magic; or so I’d heard. They were great for anchoring things in bindings or summonings. The right kind could make a great magical battery, and above all, they were excellent for storing information.
Mundane technology companies were just learning this. There was something about the crystalline structures that allowed vast amounts of data to be stored on them. There was a digital arms race underway. Silicon Valley was spending tons of cash trying to create the most efficient crystals that would revolutionize the world of computing. I looked forward to that, but it didn’t do me much
good here and now.
As I tilted the crystal to catch the light a certain way, a pair of large tits emblazoned themselves like purple fire across my eyes. I blinked, and the vision faded. This particular booth, filled with similar crystals, was selling some type of new-age Kama Sutra. Judging by the image that flashed when I pivoted, the saleswoman grinning at me had done some of the modeling.
I gulped as she smiled at me. She was a lot of woman. I was thinking about her taking the place of Littlekittycat69 in a few of my fantasies when the crystals gave me an idea. I scratched my chin, like I contemplated buying it, as I ran the mechanics through my mind. Ultimately, I’d have to talk to Lark about it, but it seemed feasible.
Glamour was a wonderful thing, totally badass, and a game changer as far as I was concerned. At its core, it was will made reality by power; but there were different ways to do that. It created two general types of glamour. I’d become proficient enough in the first to attend the convention.
I called it fixed, or tied-off, glamour. I was wearing one right now, and it had its pros and cons. It was hard to explain, but the glamour covered my body like a shell; a shell that felt like my own skin. It reacted to everything I did, and all sensations were communicated to my brain as if they were happening to my actual body. I enjoyed the taste of the nutritious meal I’d eaten with Dani. I felt the primal satisfaction of fucking Littlekittycat69 as if I’d done it with the same dick I’d been jerking off with for the last five years.
Things that humans were concerned with, like the laws of physics, didn’t seem to apply. Don’t ask me how that’s possible. Lark told me that some Fae were fucking huge, but with glamour, they could appear completely human. So much for the Law of Conservation of Mass; but I’m not a scientist, so I had no fucking idea what I was talking about. The whole thing was a bit of a mindfuck, and it did nothing to alleviate the anxiety I felt around Fae. I’d go the rest of my life wondering if the person next to me was Joe the Plumber, or a multiheaded monster that thought my liver was a culinary delicacy.
I shivered, pushed that thought away, and focused on the crystal. “If I angle it just right, I can see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow,” I grinned.
The flash of inspiration I wanted to consult Lark on, when I wasn’t too busy trying to catch a peek of a vertical smile, had to deal with a crystal’s storage applications in relation to my particular situation. Could glamour be programmed into a crystal? It was a good question that the Fae probably never asked themselves. After all, why would a Fae need to bottle glamour? For me, it would allow me to combine my abilities. I could conceal myself behind a flawless façade, but still take advantage of my precognition. The troll strength I had burning inside me was all well and good, but I missed being able to tell when something was about to happen. Even a second or two could mean the difference between life and death; enhanced strength or not.
I’d become competent at fixed glamour, and could probably program it into a crystal if that was possible, but I was still working on the second type. I called it streaming glamour; like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime. All those apps allowed people to stream content off the internet to their devices. Streaming glamour allowed a Fae to continuously stream power to an object. It countered the main con of fixed glamour. Fixed glamour was exactly that: fixed. You put a certain amount of power into it, and it was set in stone. The pro was not having to constantly worry about it since the glamour had been tied off. That was great for a certain quasi-human, walking around a porn convention, who’d just learned glamouring in the last week. However, if the fixed glamour wasn’t strong enough, you could be in real trouble.
Lark used the example of a sword to explain it all. A sword of fixed glamour had a certain strength and sharpness to it; like a sword forged by any blademaster. That was good in most cases, until you came up against something stronger and sharper than your own blade. In that case, a fixed glamour blade would shatter against the stronger object, and you’d be shit out of luck. I don’t know about other Fae, but it would suck donkey dick if my sword broke in the middle of a fight.
That’s where streaming glamour came in; which also just happened to be the preferred glamour of most Fae. Unlike fixed glamour, it wasn’t tied off; so, you had to maintain the power flow to the object. In the case of a blade, you had to keep that manifestation of power going with your will. That wasn’t an issue with a true Fae, but I hadn’t figured it out yet. Lark had proven that point by slapping me in the face. Not hard, but hard enough to surprise me, interrupt my concentration, and dissolve my blade into pretty sparks that did a whole lot of nothing to protect against anything he decided to follow up with.
Chloe had used a streaming glamour blade when she’d hip checked me out a second story window. The dagger’s she’d thrown were fixed, but the sword that almost ended me was streaming.
I had a violent flashback of being battered, broken, and bleeding on the concrete outside my dorm. The water nymph’s sword plunged toward my defeated chest. Lilith’s own blade and whip of fire saved my ass, and shattered Chloe’s concentration. That’s the difference between fixed and streaming, when you stop focusing on your object, the glamour crumbled. Chloe’s blade had disintegrated into harmless sparkles a moment before she’d killed me.
I didn’t have much of a choice with my glamour at this point, but fixed worked for me; it was the safer option for someone with no control. Still, I recognized streaming could really save my ass in a pinch. With streaming, I could pump as much power as I could into an object. With a blade, I could make it stronger, sharper, or even repair damage mid-battle.
When going up against an opponent you had no intel on, streaming was the better option. That sucked for me, but like I was saying, if I was able to program fixed glamour into a crystal, I would be able to take advantage of my other abilities. I was intrigued; so intrigued that I totally missed Dani approach me from behind.
“Don’t look,” she whispered in my ear as she picked up a green crystal that flashed a cock going into a shapely ass in the right light. “You’ve got a tail at your eight o’clock.”
I resisted the urge to turn and look. When someone told me not to do something, my first instinct was to do it. This time when I turned the crystal, it was balls that flashed across my face, but I caught a glimpse of the dude trying to appear nonchalant while he kept an eye on me. He was fit, dressed like the talent scouts, with a bulge in his pocket that wasn’t a gun, but also wasn’t his dick.
“There’s another one at three o’clock,” she stated as she put down her crystal and faced me.
That gave me a chance to look over her head, and spot bad guy number two. He was built from the same mold as bad guy number one: fit, lean, with a military bearing. He could be one of the basement-dwelling chronic masturbators for all I cared; the fact that anyone was following me was a bad sign.
“UN?” I whispered.
“No idea, but we need to move. They’re boxing us in,” she slipped her arm through mine, like we were about to take a stroll through the park, and headed off at an angle away from both men.
A group of people offered us a little cover, and we were able to put them between us and bad guy number two. I felt the frustration radiating off him as we skirted past the trap, but we weren’t home free. The two baddies fell in behind us and started gaining ground. If we ran, they’d know we were onto them. I tried to appear relaxed as we rounded a corner and ran smack dab into bad guy number three. They’d herded us like sheep, and I had no time to react as something silver flashed toward me.
Thankfully, I’d listened to Lark. “Make your glamour strong,” he’d instructed. “What fun is it if you can’t take a punch?”
Since Lark was basically Lucifer incarnate, it was probably a good thing any fixed glamour he wore didn’t collapse if he got punched in the face. From the limited time I’d spent with the old satyr, I wasn’t surprised he’d said some things that made powerful people want to sock him in the kisser.
For m
e, it wasn’t a fist as much as a hypodermic needle. Baddy number three tried to jab it into my gut, but it hit my glamour and slid along my false skin. The guy looked at me with complete shock written across his face. My reaction was delayed, but I finally responded. I drove a palm strike into the man’s chest meant to drive him back, but I still didn’t have a good handle on my new strength. Power raged inside of me now that I knew I was in danger.
I winced as I heard the crack of the guy’s sternum breaking. To add insult to injury, my palm strike picked him up off his feet and launched him halfway down the alley. Thankfully, this section devoted to foot fetishes was fairly empty. Still, people screamed and ran away from me.
“Let’s move!” Dani wasn’t trying to play it cool anymore. Baddies one and two weren’t far behind, so we ran.
I leapt over the guy I’d dismantled, and managed to kick the needle under a table. I didn’t want anyone to accidentally step on it and get a dose of whatever nasty cocktail was meant for me. Baddies one and two sprinted behind us, but it became obvious they were only human, and we quickly outdistanced them.
“Coming through . . . make a hole!” I did my best drill instructor impression as I shouldered aside people as we ran for the nearest exit.
I had no idea where our two imp guards were, but it couldn’t possibly be good.
“Emergency exit!” Dani shouted, and pointed toward the welcoming neon, red blaze hanging from the ceiling.
People were jumping out of our way now, and I saw convention security moving in on us. We were maybe twenty feet from the exit when the doors burst open. The screech of metal made me dig my heels into the carpet, slip, and fall on my ass. Dani kept her footing, but not for long. Two bodies dressed in black hit her like fastballs. She collapsed in a heap under their weight, and I instantly recognized our imp guards. Both looked unconscious.
Standing in the wrecked double door, nearly as wide as the frame itself, was a big fucker in jeans and a flannel shirt. Muscles bulged against the quintuple XL, and his neanderthal face was screwed up in anger. He had a split lip, and a bruise forming around one of his eyes; so at least the imps didn’t go down without a fight.
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