Amanda wrapped her fingers loosely around his shaft, gave it a few strokes, then knelt beside him and took it into her mouth. It took Tony maybe twenty seconds to become rock hard.
Amanda looked up, then sat back on her heels and waited for direction. But when she looked over, she saw that the photographer was talking to Avery. She waited for either of them to look over and see that she’d done her job well, but neither did.
So she leaned back down and wrapped her lips around his cock again. She didn’t look up; she focused her attention on the hardness between her lips and the wetness between her legs. With the people milling around and the lights above her, it didn’t feel like she was pleasing a man so much as fidgeting to kill time, like twirling a pencil idly between her fingers.
Then she felt something under the edge of her dress, on her inner thigh. It was a hand. Tony’s hand. It crept higher and higher, closer and closer to…
“All right,” said a voice. “Ready to get this show on the road?”
“Ready,” said Tony, retracting the hand.
Amanda’s eyes went to Tony, then to Avery. It was strange to look up at the photographer’s assistant with a cock still in her mouth, but Avery’s expression wasn’t any different from if Amanda had been twirling a pencil.
Amanda stood up, ran a finger along her lips to wipe away the saliva, and said, “Yep. Ready.”
Avery told her to straddle Tony as she’d done before, to hike up her dress, and to pull her panties aside. She did, and then Avery told her to use her hand to take Tony’s cock by the base and guide it inside of her.
“Other hand,” said the photographer just as Tony was about to enter her.
Amanda looked at the photographer, then down at herself. She’d been using her right hand to pull her panties aside and using her left to hold Tony’s cock upright, but that meant that her downstretched hand was blocking the photographer’s shot of the action. She switched, holding his cock with the hand that was farthest from the camera.
“Excellent. Hold it there.” Strobes flashed. A shutter clicked. Then the photographer took more shots as she hovered above him.
Amanda felt a flash of irritation. Hadn’t they gotten all of these pre-entry “air shots” earlier, before the break, before she’d had the orgasm heard ‘round the world?
“Okay. Go ahead.”
Amanda brushed the head of Tony’s cock across her lips. She was so, so wet. She looked down, and saw that his head was completely covered with her juices, like she’d just varnished it.
Then she slid down, inch by inch. The photographer kept stopping her to take more photographs. Each time they stopped, she found that her body became used to his presence inside of her, and only when she started moving again did it reassert itself in a wave of sensation.
“Okay, Tony,” said the photographer. “You’re waking up now. Amanda, go ahead and lose the panties.”
Amanda stepped out of her panties, delighted to finally have them out of the way. Avery told her to drape them over the back of the couch. Then she repositioned herself over Tony as before, reaching down to place his cock inside of her as casually as if she were rearranging knickknacks on a shelf.
Because Tony’s character was waking up to find a girl screwing him at this point, Avery told him to react with surprise, then pleasure. She told Amanda to try on demure and sexy facial expressions, all of which felt odd and artificial to Amanda, but which the photographer seemed pleased with. Then Avery told Tony to begin touching Amanda here and there, and the photographer kept telling her to open up, move this leg or arm to this place, to rise up, and to “put more shine on the dick” (an odd request that caused Tony to spit on his fingers and wipe his cock until Amanda pointed out that she had enough “shine” for the world and could shine things up all he wanted by moving up and down… repeatedly).
What they were doing wasn’t sex in any real sense, she realized. He might as well have been putting his hand on her shoulder for all the actual fucking that was going on. They moved into a position as directed, the photographer took a few shots, and then they were directed to a new position. Fucking implied action. This was closer to placement.
Except that he’s PLACING his COCK in my PUSSY, Amanda thought. Then she thought it again and again, because the notion was so bizarre and so wrong and so out of place that she was finding it to be a huge turn-on.
A few weeks ago, Amanda had sucked off her boyfriend in front of a crowd while he fingered her. It was meant to be practice for her porn shoot (unbeknownst to her boyfriend, who didn’t know about Amanda’s new side job), but she’d found that night strangely arousing — but not for the reason she would have expected. It wasn’t being watched that she liked. It was juxtaposing a normal, mundane situation with something that nobody was supposed to do in that situation. It had the feel of casual, on-demand lust — the normal turned arousingly abnormal.
Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you, too.
Say, that’s a nice vagina you have. Do you mind if I put my put my penis inside of it?
Oh, that sounds delightful. Here — let me get these panties out of the way for you.
“Okay, let’s do missionary,” the photographer said to Tony.
And Amanda, in her head, heard him say, Go ahead and lie down naked … but by the way, it’s cold in here, so do you mind if Tony sets his cock inside of you for warmth?
As she stood to let Tony to get up so that she could lie on the couch, Amanda started laughing.
“What?” said Tony.
“I’m just thinking of how bizarre all of this is.”
“Fucking in front of people?”
“No. The deliberateness of it. It’s so straight-laced and precise, except that the straight-laced thing we’re doing is fucking.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Actually,” she said, lying down, “it’s kind of hot.”
“In that case,” he said, “I need a place to rest my penis.” And before she could respond, he slid himself inside of her. She gasped, then felt her tunnel contract around him.
“Fantastic,” said the photographer. A shutter clicked, and a light flashed.
The photographer took more photos, and Avery subtly repositioned them to give the camera a better shot. The minutes dragged on and on. It was the longest Amanda had ever had something simply stuck inside of her without moving. She found herself almost getting bored. But then Tony started to move, in and out. The photographer wasn’t telling him to do it. He was just doing it.
“I need to stay hard,” he explained, looking down.
But after so much casual contact, the sudden motion had surprised her. It was like launching from a meeting into intercourse with absolutely no foreplay or preamble. One minute she was reading the headlines on one of the grips’ newspapers across the room, and the next she was having sex. It was so surprising that her body hadn’t had time to prepare for the intimacy, and it almost surprised an orgasm out of her.
“I totally understand,” she said, all businesslike.
Then he stopped, and waited for direction.
“You need to stay hard,” she said.
He looked down, smirked, and began moving again. Slowly, she felt like she was having sex again instead of simply sitting nonchalantly under some hot lights.
“Okay,” said Avery. “Doggie.”
Avery looked and acted like she was working nine to five in an ad agency, so at first, when Amanda heard her say “doggie,” she looked around for a dog. Then, when Tony stood up, a lightbulb went on.
Amanda stood. She said to Avery, “How? Like, which way?”
So Avery and the photographer, working together, directed them until the shot was perfect. Amanda ended up with her head at the opposite end of the couch with her left knee on the cushions and her right foot, still wearing a red high-heeled shoe, on the ground with her leg straight. Tony stood behind her, idly brushing himself against her wet lips. The photographer then called for an assista
nt to re-meter the light on the shot, so they waited, and while they waited, Tony dipped the head of his cock inside of her playfully, taking a few shallow strokes.
“Wait,” said Avery. “Amanda. Go ahead and take off the dress.”
Amanda stood up, both feet on the ground, and pulled her tight red dress over her head. Dark brown hair billowed around her face as she removed it. Then two hands touched her back and turned her around, and she found Tony staring at her chest.
“Those are amazing,” he said.
Amanda blushed and turned away. “Oh, you see tits every day.”
“Yes, but yours are fantastic.” He touched the right one reverently, as if he were touching her hand or her shoulder — something anyone could touch at any time without offending her. “Natural. C’s, right? Perfect. Most girls go out and get implants to get what you have, and then they’re hard and fake.”
“Tony, don’t play with the merchandise, and get back to work,” the photographer joked.
Amanda gave Tony a teasing look and turned around. She put her left knee up on the couch and her right foot on the ground, but then it was Tony who placed his hand on her back and bent her over. Then he was inside of her, somewhat more insistently than before.
“Okay, pull out a little,” said Avery. Tony paused mid-stroke, partway in. A strobe flashed.
The photographer positioned them for a few more minutes, directing Amanda to put her chest higher or lower, to stick her ass up higher, for her to turn her butt slightly more toward the camera and to put her straight leg out further, so that her pussy would be more visible. Avery told Tony to lean back the other way to open up the view. They took more air shots, with Tony just beyond her lips as if he were about to put it inside of her. Then Avery told them to hang on for a second while the photographer talked to a member of the crew about something or other having to do with the lighting.
Amanda could feel Tony’s cock right behind her, waiting for the photographer to finish what he was doing. So she reached between her legs and nudged him upward, then pushed back into him. Tony almost gasped.
“I need to stay hard,” she explained, looking back over her shoulder.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said.
“Okay, I want this inside of me again. If you don’t mind.”
“I’m cool with it,” he said. Then he placed his hands on her ass and began thrusting. It was the first true thrusting that had happened all day, and they’d been at the shoot for hours. It felt good. Really good. Amanda had been on a plateau ever since the break, wet and turned on but without enough steady action to get her off. She felt her temperature rising.
Someone stepped over, held a light meter in front of Tony’s leg, and took a light reading. Someone else sat down with a cup of coffee and opened a magazine.
“Hey, don’t come, now,” said a voice. It was Avery. “Nobody come yet, okay?”
Tony said nothing. He just kept fucking her. If anything, Amanda sensed that he might be mildly offended that Avery thought he was unprofessional enough to come before being told to.
Finally, the photographer stopped them and told them to do a reverse cowgirl position. Amanda wasn’t familiar with it by name at first, but then Tony helped her into it, and when she saw it, it made sense. Tony sat on the couch behind her, and she sat on him facing outward. She slid down onto him, then leaned forward (“your tits look great hanging there”) and leaned back (“spread her pussy with your fingers, Tony”) as directed.
Every few seconds, the photographer took a photo, but they’d fallen into more of a regular, thrusting rhythm rather than simply posing for static shots. Whenever the photographer stopped shooting for any reason, Tony took a few quick, deep strokes and Amanda felt the growing sensations between her legs pushed even higher.
From time to time, Avery would remind them not to come yet. Amanda figured she was probably talking mainly to Tony, but Amanda had stopped the shoot earlier by coming, so she figured she’d better be on the safe side. She did her best to hold her own impending orgasm at bay.
Before the shoot, before they’d touched any part of each other, Amanda had asked Tony how things normally proceeded between shots — whether they’d actually fuck on their own time, or simply wait for the photographer’s direction and no more. Now she had her answer. She didn’t know how much more she could take, but at this point there was no way she wasn’t going to push into him at every opportunity. It even became a running joke between them. If Tony stopped for a shot and didn’t resume thrusting after the photo had been taken, Amanda would tap him on the arm and tell him that for the good of the shoot, he’d better do whatever he needed to stay hard.
“Stay hard?” he said once Avery had moved them into a spooning position with Amanda in front, facing out, her legs spread wide and Tony entering her from behind. “It’s all I can do to keep from coming inside of you.”
“But you’re a big, jaded porn stud!” she said.
“Like I said, your naiveté is hot.”
“I’m not naive.”
“You got into porn,” he said. But when she looked back, he was smiling, and he was fucking her, and she was close to coming, so she didn’t take it as a knock on her morals or judgment.
“I just like sex.”
“Maybe it’s just that you are hot,” he said.
“I am hot,” she said. “But look out, champ. You told me that you aren’t supposed to be forming attachments to people you work with.”
“Ah,” he said. “Hoist on my own petard.”
“I’m the one on your petard,” she said.
“Ooh,” he said. “I like it when you talk dirty.” Then he thrusted faster, and she looked down and watched his cock slide into her cleft, and she was very close but somehow managing to fight it down, and she could tell by his breathing that he was close, too.
Avery said something to the photographer. Then she made a gesture at Tony and Amanda.
“Okay, time for the cumshot,” she said. “Tony, stand up. Amanda, sit on the couch. Tony, you can just jerk off into … oh.”
Avery had stopped because once in position, Amanda had already greedily swallowed Tony’s cock. She was pumping it with her fist and moving her mouth up and down on it, occasionally pulling it out and looking up at Tony. Then she licked the underside, twisted her hand under the head, lubricated it with her spit, and then took it back into her mouth.
Sucking him off felt urgent. She was dying to do it. She hadn’t liked having him pull out, because she was very close and needed to come. She spread her legs as she sat on the couch, her fingers working her clit. She was determined to come one way or another, no matter what the photo shoot called for.
Suddenly, having this strange guy come in her mouth felt very, very appealing. She moved her fingers faster between her legs, alternating between thrumming her fingers across her clit and sliding them inside.
Tony began to moan. His ass clenched. Avery yelled for Amanda to open her mouth and pull back, so that the camera could get the cumshot. Amanda wanted it down her throat and wanted to feel him pulse between her lips, so at first she resisted and rubbed herself faster, but then she pulled away just in time, and he gave a hearty moan and she felt his muscles tense, and his cock jumped in her hand. A great spurt of fluid erupted from it and struck her in the mouth, then on the inside of her cheek, then on the outside of her cheek. Then she felt it in her hair. And while it all happened, while she felt his warmth striking her, she moved the hand between her legs faster, begging herself to come, but it wasn’t happening fast enough.
When Tony was finished, the photographer took a few final shots and declared them done. Then Avery thanked them and handed them both towels. Amanda had another one of those odd flashes — she’d just had a guy she barely knew come in her mouth in front of a bunch of people, and the mood in the room was vaguely congratulatory, as if she’d just made a new sale or landed a new client.
Amanda stayed on the couch, using the towel to wipe Tony
’s cum off of her face and out of her hair. She’d need a shower, but she got the biggest blobs.
But then she realized that her other hand was still moving idly between her legs. It had never stopped.
She felt strangely disappointed — a feeling of Is this all there is? — as she watched grips begin turning off and disassembling lights.
Tony was wiping his dick with the towel, looking off at something. Amanda followed his gaze and saw a man standing outside the circle of lights, gesturing to him.
“Tony,” the man said. “Need a minute of your time.”
“Sure,” he said. Then he looked down at Amanda. He looked like he was about to say Good first scene or Pleasure working with you or simply say goodbye, but then his gaze fell lower and he saw her fingers still slowly tracing circles around her clit.
He held up a finger to the man beside the set. “Hang on a sec,” he said.
“Sure,” the man replied, then leaned against a pillar and began looking at the screen of his cell phone.
“Hard to be a girl in porn, isn’t it?” said Tony.
“Excuse me?” said Amanda, looking up.
“You’re just here to be fucked. The camera only cares about the dudes.”
Tony knelt on the floor.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, looking down at him.
He reached up and rubbed her right breast, then her left.
“These really are fantastic,” he said.
Then he moved both of his hands to the insides of her thighs, pushed them open, and began to lick her pussy.
Amanda’s reaction was immediate. It was as if there had been no lull in the action at all. People were taking down lights and disassembling tripods. Tony’s meeting was waiting for him. Avery and the photographer were looking at the screen of a laptop, probably at the photos they’d just taken. And Tony’s tongue was flicking at her clit, expertly rolling it against her pubic bone underneath, and here she was in public with her legs spread wide and nobody was doing any porn shoot business now; what was happening was only about her and her pleasure and the man who was being kind enough to deliver it.
Filthy Dirty Normal, Volume 3 Page 3