Savage Urges

by Poppy Deveaux

  And I spiraled into oblivion, convulsing into a blackout in my lovers' arms, the three of us collapsing into a writhing, sweaty, fucking heap, the world dissolving into a faint, meager heartbeat in my ears, my pleasure more thorough than it had been since my initial encounter with Olivia.

  Holyyyyyy fucking molyyyyy...

  TO BE CONTINUED.....

  My Bucket List Series – Girl On Film

  I stormed into my apartment after what must sure as hell been the longest day it had ever taken the Earth to rotate around on its axis, slamming my keys down on the counter, plopping my purse down on the couch, and scrambling to pour a considerable amount of chips into a bowl to snack on during the premiere of my debut scene. This was an occasion worth snacking for...

  The day at the office had seemed interminable, for a number of reasons. For one thing, I sat at my desk, wanting to look up porn like every second of the day. Not any porn, mind you, but this very specific porn in question. But of course, that's just not the sort of damn thing you can do at any old time during your day, and I knew I couldn't risk being found out.

  And speaking of which, I couldn't help but wonder, what if the people at the office found out about it? I mean, it was entirely plausible wasn't it? I mean, just look at fucking Paul, for instance... I knew damn well that he was a pervert, and there was an overwhelming likelihood that he was a regular peruser of porn pages for girls such as myself. In fact, after he'd responded with a naked picture of himself to one of my ads, sporting his big fat hairy belly and his teeny little weenie, I'd been unable to face Paul directly for some time now, either busting out laughing or averting my gaze from him, somehow inwardly certain that he'd known it was me who'd run such a lascivious online personal ad. Of course, he'd given no indication that that was the case, but that didn't stop a girl from being paranoid about such things.

  Anyway, I felt so certain that someone at the office would have seen me on there, that I would get reported to HR, possibly fired, or else just be so goddamn humiliated that I could never again face the prospect of setting foot in that office.

  But, of course, if I couldn't watch porn during the work day, then I highly doubted that the rest of the office, less motivated than I was to see the video in question, might have stumbled upon their video during office hours either. So, for the time being, I tried my damnedest to convince myself, I was, in all likelihood, safe from being slut-shamed.

  By the time five o'clock rolled around I was out of that shithole of an office like a bat out of fucking hell, drumming my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as I sat waiting for the slow crawl of vehicles through rush hour traffics, my life ticking, ticking, ticking away, my blood pressure I'm sure, skyrocketing, and my life feeling as though it was surely trickling through my fingers waiting for things to spring into life.

  But at last, much to my relief, I was at home now, and I didn't have to wait much longer for the satisfaction of my curiosity, or the excitement at my debut to be fulfilled.

  I quickly tore through the house with my bowl of chips in hand, grabbed my laptop from my desk, and bounced down onto my bed, lying with my feet kicking behind me like a fucking teenage girl talking to her boyfriend on the phone, but of course my purposes were far less innocent.

  I typed in the address to the porn website, and instantly a beautiful cascade of pop-ups came shooting across the screen; one weird tricks for men to make women squirt; one weird tricks for men to make their cocks bigger; advertisements for online sex games promoted with images of CGI aliens ramming unrealistically large penises into the humanoid bodies of monster-headed females, their enormous breasts bouncing wildly; ads for dearly beloved classic cartoon characters engaging in sexual intercourse with one another, their private parts illustrated in exquisite detail compared to their, simple, angular base models...

  The fuck is wrong with internet people?

  Anyway, once all that shit was out of the way I clicked on the link to the “Amateur” category. I scrolled down, but didn't yet find what I was looking for, until on the side of the screen the category of “Casting” caught my eye, and I clicked on that instead. This, it seemed, yielded better results.

  I stared at the screen for a long, long, long, seemingly endless minute.

  There I was, on screen, there to be viewed in front of essentially unlimited numbers of the masses. The thumbnail they'd chosen, God bless them, featured me with an erect penis in my mouth, making me feel like a real champ.

  I sighed, clicked on the link, and waited impatiently for it to load, taking a handful of chips, and nibbling on them nervously.

  I began to seriously question whether I'd made a remotely good decision in going through with this... Or, well, maybe that isn't quite accurate. I'd been questioning the decision from the get-go, honestly. It had taken several days after I'd sent an e-mail to the organization responsible for the filming to get back to me, and the entire time I'd harbored a secret knot in my chest, anxiously anticipating the response, positive or negative. If they said no, I supposed I could always just film my own fucking scene and submit it into the homemade category, just to give myself that pleasant little rush of committing such a taboo act. But if they said yes, I felt as though I was locking myself into doing it, which of course wasn't true, but I knew once the appointment was set up I'd be too much of a chickenshit to back out.

  Well, apparently they'd liked the shots of myself I'd sent them in just my underwear, as well a couple of nudes with my hands and arms over my naughty bits, so they scheduled an appointment with me for a week after that, and the entire time I'd waited nervously, unable to focus on anything, taking a short break from the rest of my Fuck-It List while I worked up my sexual reserves, in order to make my scene as absolutely lascivious as humanly possible.

  On the morning of filming, I called in sick to work, and had to absolutely fucking force myself out the door, scared shitless, and driving as slow as possible to get to the studio, told as I was to get there an hour early before shooting, but personally preferring to take my sweet old time in arriving.

  However, once the camera was on me I'd instantly warmed up to the idea, my fear turning into defiance, needing suddenly more than anything to prove to myself that I could do this, that I would do this, and like a fucking boss no less. I'd seen enough of these shitty videos to know exactly how they went down; the faceless interviewer would ask the girl on camera a myriad of questions, knowing that she was so fucking ditzy that she would almost certainly trip over her answers to every fucking one of them. Welllll, not this chick. I would fuck like a champ once the scene began, but I was not about to make a fucking chump out of myself for the entire world to see.

  And there I was.

  The video had finished buffering, and I witnessed myself onscreen, looking into the camera with fawn eyes, deceptively innocent for what was about to go down. I was wearing a white blouse with stripes on it, revealing what I considered to be a sexy amount of midriff, with black shorts that fell about halfway down along my thighs. I was sitting on the bed in a room lit sort of dimly to give off an appropriate mood, my legs splayed casually beneath my body, leaning back on my arm in such a way that made me look weirdly double jointed.

  I looked fucking cute as hell.

  Of course, it was a bit trippy seeing what I'd experienced in first person now displayed onscreen from a third person perspective, and in the moment of stillness before the action started I began to critique my experience in a myriad of ways, suddenly perceiving just about every last fucking flaw I could find, and I'm certain making up several flaws that weren't actually there, but that I intuited regardless of whether or not they actually existed.

  Mercifully, the cameraman spoke, interrupting my thoughts. Mark was the cameraman's name. Even though he was never fully shown on camera, he was mighty damn fine, which was a good thing. Some of these types of scenes I'd watched in preparation had featured chubby, unattractive fuckers behind the camera, sticking their nasty dicks in young pretty g
irls, promising them a chance at success as long as they screwed their gross bodies. Mark had black hair, an attractive, muscular body, and was the type of guy I would have fucked anyway, regardless of whether or not I was shooting a porno at the time I was doing it.

  “Hello,” I heard his omniscient voice say off-camera.

  “Hi,” I responded, smiling shyly, already fucking up my attempt at staving off apparent ditziness.

  “Do you think you could introduce yourself to the viewers?”

  I did, stating my name, but I'm not going to tell you what it was, because it's been seven fucking installments of this series now and you haven't asked me once, so it's too late now, mothafuckas.

  “Okay, nice to meet you, I'm glad you could be here.”

  “I'm glad to be here,” I said, too chipperly. Fuck me, I was bombing this whole keep-my-composure shit like a fucking bombardier.

  “So, uh, how old are you?”

  “I'm twenty-four,” I said, nodding, closing my eyes while I said it. This was also something that every girl in every video like this that I'd watched had done, as though confirming a question the cameraman already knew. I guess I just followed along automatically.

  “Twenty-four, okay, perfect. So are you nervous at all?” Everything he said was kind of spoken flat, like he'd asked these questions so many times by now and fucked so many gorgeous women that he'd gotten tired of it, and by now he was just going through the motions. That made sense, but still, what a sad way to live when you couldn't even enjoy the prospect of getting pussy anymore...

  “Ummm... No, I'm not nervous,” I said, shaking my head nervously.

  “And this is the first time you've ever done a scene like this, correct?”

  “Yes, that's correct,” I nodded.

  “Never done, like, any modeling for any friends or anything?”

  “Nope,” shake head.

  “Any videos with your boyfriend or anything like that?”

  “Nope, nothing like that.”

  “Okay, okay... So what's your reason for doing this? What are your goals? Looking to make money, orrrrr, hoping to become a star?”

  And here's where I took the reins. I knew he wanted some pussy ass story like, yeah I wanted money for shoes, or yeah, I got into some trouble and I need the cash, or yeah, I got tired of bumming money off of my parents and I thought I'd just do this for a quick buck. This was the point, I recalled, where my swag kicked in, and I recalled just what distinguished me from all the other bitches who did this shit, if you'll excuse my harsh language amidst my normally so dainty choice of vocabulary.

  “No... I just like fucking...”

  A pause from the cameraman, and then a laugh. “Well, okay, I see... That's always a good thing when you're doing something like this... Is there... Something specific about wanting to do it on film that drew you in? Like a fetish or something?”

  “Sure is, chief.”

  “Oh? Care to tell me a little bit about that? What turns you on about it?”

  “Well, see, I had this idea a while back. I was thinking I didn't get out enough, and I was afraid of letting my best years pass me by...” At this point, I didn't realize, I brushed my hair girlishly back behind my ears. “...So, I came up with this list of sexual challenges to myself called the Fuck-It List, and this was one of them.”

  Another pause, and then a chuckle. “Well, that's very interesting. That's not the type of story we usually get from girls that do this.” I smiled smugly at him, as though to say, Yup, I am aware of this. “So, I'm curious now, what have been some of the other things you've done so far?”

  “Welllll, lemme think...” I looked into the middle distance, and began to rattle off the now familiar list on my fingers. “Let's see, I started out by trying out anal sex for the first time... Then, I wanted to try sex in a public place and I did it in a park bathroom... Ummm... After that I had my first girl on girl experience, which I definitely enjoyed...” My eyes bulged fucking huge at the word definitely, as thoughts of Olivia swirled through my head. “...Then, let's see... Oh, I took a big black cock up my asshole... Ummmm... I screwed a married guy... I did my first double penetration, which was God fucking damn amazing, annnnnnnd, now I'm here to screw you on camera!” I ended with a ridiculous chipper note in my voice, and I can remember Mark's stunned expression after I finished listing everything, the poor bastard blinking hard, trying to process all that I'd told him. Finally, he laughed.

  “Well, then... You sure sound like the type of girl we're looking for!”

  “Well, I thought so,” I grinned.

  And with that, the starter's pistol had fired, and the two of us were off.

  I took a massive handful of chips as the scene faded, and crunched them to bits in my mouth as the transition finished up.

  I was down on my knees without any further preamble, staring fawn-eyed up into the camera, the lights twinkling in my eyes as I bobbed my head, around and around and around, and around, sucking on Mark's erect penis. I was still fully clothed, though Mark was down to his birthday suit, and I noticed that it did something strange to our dynamic, though I'm not exactly sure what. He might have been the naked and vulnerable one, but I was the one getting throat fucked, so who had the power over who?

  In the span of an instant, I made several astute observations about myself in the act of pornographic fellatio. For one thing, I was working my entire fucking body into the motions of sucking on Mark's cock. It wasn't just my face pumping around on him, but about every bone in my body getting into it, rocking forward on my knees, balancing myself somewhat with my arms as I gyrated, churning around and around and around with my breasts bouncing in the stripey white blouse down below.

  Number two, I noticed the fact that I gave incredibly noisy blowjobs, like far noisier than I thought I might have given. Each thrust of my face into Mark's body produced a loud, suctioned, squelching sound, gurgling up deep from my throat with each plummet into my gullet, and diminishing as the suction built up around him with his near-extrication, in and out and in and out and in and out, “GLUG, GLUG, GLUG, GLUG, GLUG...”

  And number three- God damn me, I couldn't help but notice that my deep-throating wasn't nearly as deep as I had originally thought it was... I thought I was sucking him like, down to the base of his fucking shaft, but now that I was actually seeing myself, I was getting to maybe the three-fourths mark along the length of his cock, sometimes only to the halfway point... It occurred to me, then, that I'd probably given all my blowjobs this way, and that, furthermore, watching yourself screwing in a porno was like analyzing a replay of a sports game. You could see every tiny thing you did right or wrong, search for ways to improve your future game, and break everything down to its most intricate parts to understand what was good, and what needed some fixin'.

  But, for the time being, I decided not to be too hard on myself, given that this was my first ever on-screen fuck, and at any rate I would get far more enjoyment out of it if I just let myself take in the beauty of watching myself fornicate from a third-person perspective.

  And Christ, I really was beginning to get caught up in the viewing.

  I mean, fuck the chips I was eating, I was actually starting to get pretty damn horny watching myself onscreen. The writhing of my body, the sounds pushing out from my lips, the way I would work my hand in there after every few bobs and masturbate him, pumping the skin of his shaft up and down before continuing to rock my entire upper body into his pelvis. Occasionally, Mark would reach down from offscreen and run his fingers through my hair, pushing it to the sides of my head, savoring the silky sheen. And for some reason that got me wetter between the thighs as anything, and I decided I was in no mood to continue watching this in my clothes.

  I paused the video, and scrambled up off the bed, setting the bowl of chips on my bedside stand, and peeling my blouse up off of me. I wriggled out of my skirt, tugging it down along my thighs, to my knees, down to around my ankles, and kicking it to the side. I slipped out of
my bra, feeling my titties, warm and soft and silky in my grip, then I slid back down, peeling off my panties finally, and hopping back into the bed. I grabbed a pillow from up above and put it beneath my boobs, and then pulled a blanket overtop of myself, giving me some additional heat in order to work up a sweat while I watched.

  Then, I unpaused the video.

  This was, of course, the natural way to watch porn, even if it was of yourself, and I suddenly felt a bit like that Narcissus character who fell in love with his own reflection or some shit and turned into a flower. But fuck it, seeing yourself boinking a man on camera is about as steamy of an ego boost as you can hope for in life, and I refused to feel bad about the enjoyment it was giving me.

  The camera faded briefly to a side view of my continued blowjob, and I recalled suddenly that there was indeed a second cameraman whom I had not fucked, but was there to take over for the non-perspective shots.

  Let's be honest, I'd been pretty damn occupied to observe all of the minute details such as these.

  And again, the scene faded, and now we were up to the really good shit.

  I reached down, down, down, below the covers, and put my hand between my thighs, feeling the warm, wet meat of my pussy, letting the flowery lips of my twat melt through my fingers, masturbating myself to the imagery onscreen, getting me hotter and hotter and hotter by the minute.

  Now, I was as naked as Mark, and straddling him on the bed. The camera was up above us in a point of view that wasn't quite a total bird's eye, like not directly overhead, but slightly off to the side. I was straddling Mark in a cowgirl position, my body writhing on top of him, grinding, pumping, pushing, working my stuff, and my pretty little titties bouncing like mad across my chest as I hopped and bopped and moaned, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...”

  Now my self-critiquing was really coming to a head, as every mild imperfection of my nude body was presented to me in startling high definition. However, it didn't seem as bad as it could have been. My tits were smooth and round, the nipples positively perky as they jostled around my chest with the motions of my bumping and grinding. My hair glimmered with an exquisite sheen as it swayed across my shoulders, flashing beautifully at the camera, no complaints there...