Projections

Projections.

LAX is in turmoil.

Flights are being delayed here and then rerouted there as a constant tide of irate commuters haul their luggage back and forth.  I’m flying to Phoenix to shoot for the company Nimble Films.  My flight is unsurprisingly delayed, which wouldn’t usually be much of a problem except for the fact that I’ve never been this high at an airport before in my entire life.   Earlier, my buddy—let’s call him Bud—shared his very potent edible with me, a decision I knew I’d later regret, but I went ahead and ate it anyway because; well, why the hell not?  Meanwhile, my eyes are now drying up exponentially and my tongue feels like sandpaper. I go and buy a bottle of water at Starbucks, and, giving in to temptation, I also get a vanilla latte and a slice of banana walnut bread. The water cleans, the warm coffee soothes, and the caffeine sharpens.  I can feel the high subsiding.  I am back in control.

Soon my flight boards and I apprehensively take my assigned window seat and strap in, putting in my headphones and closing my eyes.  Twenty minutes later we reach our cruising altitude and I reopen them, releasing my death grip from the hand rests.  The flight attendant begins her rounds for drink orders.  All is as it should be, and yet, I can’t help but think something terrible is about to happen.                                                                                                                       Suddenly there’s turbulence and the cabin violently shakes as we drop 1,000 feet in altitude at the blink of an eye.  Overhead luggage falls out of the bins and topples to the floor, knocking out the flight attendant as she tries to calm the passengers.  The plane banks ninety degrees toward the earth and plummets. Thinking quickly, I rip off my tray-table, and elbow a hole through my window.  The rupture causes a massive tear in the plane, sucking other poor souls out into the sky.  I unbuckle my seatbelt, mount my tray-table, and take a leap of faith, sailing through the sky like the silver surfer toward an oncoming mountain peak.  I land with grace and snowboard down the steep Cliffside, dodging trees and boulders as the plane crashes nearby in a fiery eruption, causing an avalanche.  I expertly avoid the onslaught of twisted metal and make it safely to the bottom where a butterscotch blonde is conveniently waiting for me in the passenger seat of a convertible Porsche 911.  I hop in and she immediately unzips my pants. I floor the pedal and together we drive off toward the horizon.

The ding of the fasten Seatbelts sign breaks me of this fantasy, and reality returns.  The plane makes its expected final descent toward Phoenix.

***

Today I’m on set with the hard-bodied, Scarlet Glam, and newcomer, Mia Foxx.  

The plot: Mia wants to work for Nimble Films and Scarlet, being their respective casting agent, has just the tool to test Mia’s ability: my cock.  On action, I lay naked on the couch and receive a double blowjob. The girls spit and slobber, Scarlet instructing the “naïve” Mia on how to properly tease and deep throat.  Scarlet straddles Mia’s face while I fuck Mia in missionary. Then I fuck Mia doggy-style as she hungrily laps at Scarlet.  Mia bounces on me in reverse cowgirl while Scarlet licks her pussy and occasionally sucks me off.  Then we return to the original double blowjob position and the girls milk me dry.  They share a gloriously gooey kiss before kissing the camera goodbye.  Cut. Print.

Afterward, Mia returns to makeup to get a quick touch up before shooting a solo scene.  Her and I don’t speak much after that, but as I climb the red Arizona rocks that lie adjacent to the Nimble Films’ house, I peer down and admire her as she sits poolside, playing with herself for the camera.

During a quick break, she playfully calls out to me and yells, “You’re so weird!”

“Yeah, but you like it,” I call back.

She giggles and blows me a kiss.     

I can see the future now: boy and girl will spend quality time together, revealing secrets about one another.  They will embrace in one night of passion and fall asleep with their bodies intertwined. The rising sun will wake them as it gleams through the bedroom window.  The two will roll around between the sheets, showering each other in kisses.  While admiring his little foxx, as he will affectionately call her, the boy will run his hands over her warmth, feeling every curve of her perfect shape.  He will kiss her back and caress her shoulders, nibbling her skin as she relaxes her body, letting it melt into his.  She will offer her neck, beckoning him to take a bite.  He will sink his teeth into her, sending shivers down her spine.  She will turn to him and he’ll cup her face, gazing into her beautiful brown eyes.  The boy will be in love, but as usual, he will be thinking with his little head instead of his big head.

Sometimes the attraction shared between scene partners is so strong that it just feels natural to be in love, but I have to remind myself to remain professional.  We had a good day at work, and that’s all it was and all it probably ever will be.  They can’t all love me, although I wouldn’t be against such a thing. It’s nice to feel wanted outside the parameters of porn.  I enjoy knowing my partner craves me when they aren’t forced to pretend.  It makes me feel a little less like a monster, and more like a person again, a quality I think I have been missing for some time now.   

What's in a Name?

What’s in a Name?

He goes to a house party in North Philly and takes shrooms for the first time.  He eats an eighth, but after thirty minutes he doesn’t feel anything so he eats another. 

Soon the graffiti stricken walls of the house are pulsating and he sinks deep into the cushions of a dirty couch.  

The next thing he remembers is his tongue inside of another person’s mouth, swirling around with their tongue.  He stops and pulls away.  He is relieved to find this person is a girl.  Cupping her face, he looks into her eyes.  In a moment of clarity, he discovers she is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen before in his life. 

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“Allie.”

“Allie.  Do that again,” he says, pulling her lips back onto his. 

Soon one of her friends comes and grabs her, takes her out of his arms and out of reach.  Too much too soon.   

Then the drug begins to turn. 

Everyone in the house mutates into gross caricatures.  Panic sets in.  He needs air.  He stumbles around and comes face to face with his reflection in a hallway mirror.  He freezes in terror at what he sees.  Thankfully someone bumps into him, breaking his trance, giving him the strength to run outside into the night air and puke on the front stoop. 

Delirious, he discovers the city has morphed into a fiery post-apocalyptic hellhole.  Tears well and he falls to his knees, crying.  The world as he knows it disappears, and he loses all sense of time and space.  Picture fades to black. 

He wakes the next morning in a stranger’s apartment amidst half a dozen outstretched and bare skin bodies strewn across a couch and the living room floor. 

He looks down by his side and finds Allie nestled in his arms.  He can’t believe it.  He can’t remember how he got there or how she came to be with him, but he didn’t care; having her here is what is important.  He runs his fingers through her long brunette hair just to make sure she’s really there, and as her soft waking eyes look up to meet his he feels a calming sense of warmth in his stomach. 

He likes this moment.  He wants this feeling to continue.

They make plans to see each other again, then again, and again, and again. Allie and him soon become exclusive, and after two months into their relationship he figures it's time to tell her what he plans to do in Los Angeles, his porno pursuits.

It isn’t the most ideal conversation, but it's necessary.  She can’t understand what is driving him, and he can’t seem to offer her a reasonable explanation. 

Honestly, he doesn’t even have one for himself; He wishes he could verbalize why he is so drawn to Porn and what he hopes to find when he gets there, but he cant.  Not yet. 

Maybe that’s the motivation, to answer Man’s most plaguing question of, “What if?”   

He tells Allie he’s sorry, and he reassures her that this won’t affect the way he feels about her.  He tells her he’ll make enough money to fly her out anytime she wants.  He tells her they can stay together, and they can make it work; they will make it work because they are hopeful, they are idealistic, and they are in love.

He jokes, “And like, it won’t be cheating, I’ll just be doing it for work.”

Not Funny.

*          *          *

The time comes for him to leave and he realizes he has yet to pick a stage name.  It’s a task he’s been avoiding.  A name is everything; its an identity, it’s a brand, and it’s a major fucking responsibility.  He wants something memorable, distinct, and empowering, something strong and yet something warm, inviting, and casual.

He and Allie brainstorm together in his bedroom one nigh after sex.

“What do you think about Guy Pierce?”  He asks.  

“Like the actor?”

“Exactly.  Except, I would change the name to spell P-I-E-R-C-E.  You see?  Double entendre.” 

“Piercing like a sword.“

“And like a cock.”

“Oh yeah?  Pierce is fine, I think.  Not too crazy about the name, Guy, though. It feels so impersonal, you sound like a prop.” 

“I think that’s usually what the guys are.”

“See, Guy.  You’d just be another ‘one of the guys;’ another anonymous penis.” 

“You think it sounds too porny.”

“Too porny or too corny?  Is there even a difference?  Anyway, you’d probably get sued by the actor or something, right?” 

“I never thought about that.  I guess that’s fair.”

“You know what name I love?  Logan.  I’ve never met anyone named Logan before, but I love the way it sounds; it just rolls off the tongue.” 

“Logan.  Yeah, when I hear it I think of Wolverine.  That’s not a bad look.”

“You could pass for a Logan.” 

“You think?  Logan…Pierce?” 

“Logan Pierce: Male Performer.  Ha, Kind of has a ring to it.”

“Yeah, it sounds good; natural, a sophisticated character.” 

“The kind of guy who will take you out for wine and then bang you in the back of a dark alleyway.”

"Now that I like!” 

“Me too.”

“Logan Pierce.  I think I’ll keep it.”

“Good.  Now get out there and make it happen Mr. Pierce.”  

And just like that, he is given a name.  He is born.       

Two weeks later, he packs all of his clothes, his books, his DVD collection, his X-box and his video games into his car.  He kisses Allie goodbye and leaves, driving four days across the country toward the Pacific, diving head first into dark waters, unafraid, ready to make a splash.  

Anxieties.

Anxieties.

I forget her name, but she is a true to form, cold-as-ice professional; that is, she’s on the clock.  She isn’t here for the sex, only the paycheck.  

She doesn’t want to me to kiss her.  She doesn’t want me to touch her hair.  She doesn’t want to touch me if I am not already hard, and especially not until cameras are rolling.  She requests to not have to suck my dick after it is to be inserted inside of her, and to make matters even worse, my co-star is on her period, so the industry standard method of shoving a makeup sponge deep within the vaginal cavity in an effort to—um—plug the hole, has rendered her completely dry. 

My co-star’s disdain for everyone around her—particularly myself—is beyond palpable, and that tension leaves me hopeless.  I endeavor to hold a conversation with this woman—forget getting a hard-on; she is incongruous with what makes me vascular, with what transforms me into a throbbing he-man, leaving me limp and about as firm as a wet noodle. 

Everyone’s attitude changes the moment wood troubles begin on set.  The director tries to remain calm and sympathetic, but I can read between the lines; I can see the look of disappointment on his face. 

I sequester myself in the bathroom. 

"Just give me a minute!” I call out as I sit on the toilet seat trying to squeeze life back into my dick, but it’s useless.  I hear them all whispering about me, and I can’t concentrate.  I lose all interest and motivation.  I no longer feel sexy or aroused, just weak and embarrassed. 

I have never in my life thought the day would come when the communication between my mind and my manhood would be severed, especially not after giving up everything, leaving my family behind, and dropping out of college to become a bona fide, mother fucking, PORN STAR.  

            I am left unable to do my job.  

            I fail.

I go home defeated.  I think my career—or whatever semblance of a career I have established up until this point—is over. 

My mind is racing with questions like:

“Will they ever hire me again?”

“Will word spread?” 

“Am I gay?” 

Feeling less than zero, I call Mick and tell him the bad news.  He laughs at me over the phone.

“Big fucking deal.  This was bound to happen sooner or later, kid.  Everyone has bad days.”

“Not everyone.  Not me.”

“Look, they can’t all be home-runs.  But remember, you’re only as good as your last scene, you understand?  You start making this a regular thing and soon nobody is gonna book you.”

“Well, shit.  What am I supposed to do?”

“You want a guarantee?  Go pay a visit to Dr. Dose.  He’ll give you exactly what you need.”

I am nearly six-months into my porn career at this point; I haven’t exactly declared my official arrival, so to speak.  I am still new, still green.  I have to keep working; I have to keep shooting if I want to succeed.  I can’t afford to lose my edge, so I follow my agent’s advice and take out an insurance policy on my career.

Dr. Dose is the industry’s primary care physician. He runs an urgent care clinic in the armpit of the valley.  I enter his office and one of the nurses leads me to a neglected examination room.  With stale lights and stained walls it resembles something straight out of Requiem for a Dream.  I sit anxiously atop the wax paper. 

Ten minutes later the Doctor walks in.

“So, Sporto, I hear you’re in dirty movies and you want some medicine, yeah?  Well, we can get you fixed up with whatever you need: Viagra, Levitra, Cialis, even Caverject if you don’t mind jabbing a needle into yourself.”

“What? Uh, No, that’s okay, Doc, I’ll just stick with the pills—the Viagra.” 

“No problem, Sporto.  Whatever you want.  You need anything else? Xanax? Codeine?  Maybe some antibiotics; Do you have a scratchy throat?  Could be gonorrhea, you know.  A shot in the butt and a Z-pack would clear that right up for you.” 

“No thanks, Doc.  I’m fine.  Just the Viagra, please.”

“Sure, sure.  Got a script written up right here for you.”  He hands me the slip of paper.  “Just take this to any pharmacy and you’ll be good to go. “

He opens the door and shoos me out.

“Okay, have fun; take care of yourself, Sporto.  See you soon.”

I am dizzy by the time I leave his office. 

I get into my car and drive to the nearest CVS.  With my script in hand, I approach the pharmacy counter, doing my best to remain inconspicuous. 

“Hi, I just wanted to drop this off.”

“Sure, what’s your date of birth?”

“October 17th, 1990.”

“And what’s the medication?”

Under my breath I mutter, “Uh…viagra.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Viagra.”

“Right.  Okay, sir, how many pills would you like?”

“Well, how many can I get?”

“The max is ten.”

“That sounds good.”

“Just so you’re aware, the price will be $220.”

“Holy shit.  For ten pills?”

“Yes sir.”

“Uh…okay then, I guess I’ll take it.”

Thirty minutes later my prescription is filled and I leave with my first bottle of magic blue pills—my new best friends and most trusted allies in my male-performer tool belt.  Hereafter, all of my on-camera erections will grade nothing short of pharmaceutical.    

Babysitter Chronicles.

Babysitter Chronicles.

The scene begins with Logan welcoming the new babysitter, Haley, into his home.  He leads her into the living room to meet his wife, Krystal.  Krystal walks Haley through all of the basic baby-sitter requirements and the emergency contact list before her and Logan leave the house for their romantic evening dinner.

Time passes at the Pierce residence.  Haley puts the kids to sleep and retires to the living room couch where she finishes her homework for school.  Suddenly, the home phone rings. The caller I.D reads, unknown.  Haley answers anyway. 

“Hi, Pierce residence, this is Haley speaking.”

“Haley…are you the babysitter?”

“Yes I am.”

“Are you a…naughty babysitter?”

“Am I a what!?”

“You heard me.  Are you a bad girl?”

“Well, I—“

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“What’s wrong, are you scared?”

“I’m not scared!  I’m just not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“It’s fine.  You can trust me.”

“Well, if you say so, Mister.  I’m wearing black Mary-Jane’s with white knee-high socks, a plaid skirt, and the polo uniform for my school.”

“Go on.”

“Well, what else do you wanna know?”

“What color are your panties?”

“Ha-Ha.  You’re silly.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not wearing any panties, Mister.”

“So, you are a naughty babysitter, after all, aren’t you?”    

“Maybe.”

“I like that.”

“He-He.  I had a feeling you would.  You’re a pervert, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“I like that.  Well, Mister pervert, what would you like me to do?”

“How about you play with yourself for me?”

Rather than hang up the phone and call the police in fear for her life, Haley obliges the pervert and satisfies his depravity by stripping off her clothes and rubbing her clit while moaning into the phone receiver. 

Suddenly, Krystal appears in the living room, lurking behind Haley.

“What do you think you’re, doing, little lady?”

“Oh my god!”

“You’re naked.”

“I can—“

“And you’re playing with yourself.”

“But I—“

“You are a dirty, dirty, girl.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“…I like it.”

“I….you…what?”

“You heard me.  Keep going.”

“You want me to—“

“I want you to rub your little pussy and continue moaning into the phone.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good girl.”

Haley continues playing while Krystal looks on in admiration, stripping off her clothes in the meantime.  Soon, she joins in the fun herself, groping Haley, fingering her, and eating her pussy, all the while commanding Haley to remain on the phone and narrate all the unfolding action to the voice on the other line. 

The voice says, “Tell me exactly what she’s doing to you.”

“She has two fingers inside of me and she’s pushing them in and out.”

The pervert’s voice appears within the confines of the living room, reverberating off the walls when he says, “I want you to taste them.”    

Startled, Haley turns around to see Logan holding his phone up to his ear.

“Mr. Pierce! It was you?”

Logan tosses his phone aside.  “That’s right.  Now it’s time to play.”

Logan loosens his tie as he approaches the girls.  He joins them on the couch and the two women begin worshipping his cock.  Krystal teaches the timid Haley the finer points of giving a proper blowjob. Krystal then leads by example and climbs atop Logan, riding his cock in reverse cowgirl as Haley watches and studies while rubbing her own pussy. Krystal wants Haley to learn first hand, so she instructs Haley to take her place and sit upon Logan’s throbbing meat stick. Haley obliges, and like a good little slut, she makes sure to rest her feet atop Logan’s thighs while she rides him. Krystal instructs Haley to clean her pussy juices off of Logan’s cock, and she does so while Logan and Krystal make out, commenting on how quickly Haley is learning. Logan stands and forces Krystal to kneel on the couch so he can fuck her doggy-style while she licks Haley’s pussy. Logan gropes and slaps Krystal’s supple ass, and then he puts his foot on top of Krystal’s head,  pressing her face deeper into Haley’s teenage snatch. The women swap places and Logan begins fucking Haley from behind.  Krystal returns on top of Logan and rides him in regular cowgirl while Haley sits on Logan’s face. Haley then rides Logan’s cock once more in reverse cowgirl before he finally puts both women on their knees and shoots a volcanic load of creamy pearls all over both of their pretty faces. The women then swap his cum back and forth before Krystal finally commands Haley to, “Swallow it all.”

Krystal stands and both her and Logan smile at one another in contentment.

Krystal says to Haley, “You were such a great little babysitter.”  She turns her attention to her husband and says, “Wouldn’t you agree, honey?”

“Without question; probably the best one we’ve had so far.”  He looks at Haley and says, “Now, lets get you paid.”   

Cut. Print.

Unexpected Side Effects

Unexpected Side Effects

I was lying on the living floor of the shoot house, reading Matty Lee’s 35 Cents.  

My scene partner was sitting across from me in the makeup chair.  Her name was Linda Lust.  Linda was nineteen years old.  She stood at 5-foot-2 and weighed ninety pounds.  Her skin was ivory toned and smooth as milk.  Her face was adorned with freckles.  Her emerald eyes were piercing against her pale skin and her wavy auburn hair. Linda was absolutely delectable.  

The two of us began a dialogue.

“I’m a very passionate performer,”  she boasted.

“Oh yeah?  Thats great, that’s exactly what today is all about: passion,” I said.

“I love kissing and being held tightly,”  She said.

“Two of my favorite things.  I also love staring into the eyes of my partner,” I said.

Linda cooed, “Oh, I’m so excited for today!”

“Me too,”  I said.  Then I returned to my reading.

*    *    *

As I lounged on the king sized master bed, my mistress seductively danced in front of the grand window while gazing out toward the Los Angeles skyline.  Linda was dressed in lacy black lingerie.  She turned to face me, and while slowly swaying her hips, she playfully removed her bra and tossed it at me.  Linda crawled up the foot of the bed, outstretching her arms and grazing her hands upon my legs and then up to my thighs, nearing my loins.  Linda noticed my manhood as it visibly throbbed from beneath my boxer-briefs.  She used her tongue to tease it through the cotton fabric.  She removed my underwear and passionately worshipped my meat.  She stared longingly up toward me as she swirled her tongue around my cock and licked it from the base to the head.  

Linda crawled further up the bed and the two of us shared a deep and sloppy kiss while I wrapped one hand around her throat and with the other, I gripped the back of her hair.  I pulled her further up the bed, and Linda removed her lace panties.  She maneuvered my meat inside of her wet pussy.  Passionately, we fucked in a cowgirl position while I grabbed Linda’s hips, ran my hands up and down her back, spread her asscheeks apart, and groped her perfect teenage tits.  

We continued like this for ten minutes.  Then the director yelled, “cut!” so the crew could readjust the lighting for our next position.    

During this interim, Linda stepped out into the hallway.  Moments later, she called me to come join her.  

“I want to show you something,”  she said.”

“Sure, baby,”  I said.

Linda Lifted her right leg and placed it onto the top railing overlooking the staircase.  She bent over and spread her pussy.  She asked, “Does this look weird?”

I inspected her and deduced that her pussy has become inflamed.  “Um...it looks...swollen,”  I said with reluctance.

“How bad is it?”  She asked. “It started burning a couple minutes ago.”

“Yeah, it looks like you were using a pussy-pump or something,”  I said.

“What?  Oh, god.  It hurts, I don’t know what to do,”  She whined.

“It’s definitely swollen,”  I said.  “You should talk to the director.”

Linda went back into the bedroom and took the director aside.  She confided in him.  

I can’t imagine what could’ve caused her pussy to literally swell shut.  She must’ve had an allergic reaction to something.  Maybe it was an unexpected side effect of the detergent the crew used for the bed sheets, or maybe it was the remnants of her makeup left on my dick, or maybe it was me.  Maybe she was allergic to my body wash, or my laundry detergent, or maybe she was just plain allergic to my cock.  

In either case, the director decided to break for a half hour to let Linda’s body rest.  In the meantime, she ingested four tablets of Benadryl, two Ibuprofen pills, and smoked a bowl of weed in an attempt to rapidly reduce the swelling. Thirty minutes passed and her hole was tighter than a closed lens aperture.  Linda decided to take a bath and then ice her pussy as a last ditch effort.  

Two hours later, Linda determined she was too sore to continue.  “I can’t even fit two fingers inside,”  she said.  “There is no way I can have anymore sex today.”

We contemplated.  The director had solution.  “We’ll just finish the scene with a blowjob,”  he said.  Fine by me.  

Unfortunately, by this point, Linda’s overdose of pharmaceuticals had begun to manifest itself.  The coursing drugs left Linda aloof with about as much enthusiasm as a walking corpse.  

Even though it was a blowjob, I had to do most of the work.  I guess you could say, in this instance, I acted as a power-bottom; thrusting my hips toward Linda’s agape mouth while holding her by the hair to keep her head upright so she wouldn’t pass out.  Finally, I jerked myself off onto her face and tits.  

The director yelled, “Cut!”  

Linda immediately fell asleep on the bed.  The crew and I cleaned up and then left Linda alone as the medicine worked its way out of her body.

And that, as they say, was a wrap.     

Having The Edge.

Having The Edge.

The opening of the scene had up-and-coming asian starlet, Crystal Li, seductively strutting through a high-end modern apartment.  Crystal was nude underneath a skin-tight, pink fishnet mini-dress.  She walked on six-inch spiked black heels.

Crystal played in front of a full-length mirror; spitting and drooling all over her tits and rubbing it into her tight teen pussy, groping herself and whispering sweet nothings to the investigative camera lens.  Crystal sauntered into the living room where she sat atop the white pleather couch.  She continued rubbing herself, all the while staring at the camera and beckoning for a stud to come and stuff her.

Crystal confided, “I only have one thing on my mind; Big cock.”  

That was the boy’s cue.  He entered screen left.

The boy joined Crystal on the couch.  While kissing, the boy began rubbing her clit.  He dropped to his knees and began tonguing and spitting all over her warm hole.  The boy stood up and tightly gripped the back of Crystal’s hair, pulling her toward him.  She began grabbing his crotch and begging him to reveal what was underneath his pants.  

She traced the outline of his cock and awed, “Wow, its so big.  Feed me that meat.”  She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and begged, “Please, sir, may I have it?”

“You may,” the boy said.  Crystal cooed and began unzipping his pants to reveal his glorious sword.  Cut from steel, the shimmering shaft was smooth and the edges were razor sharp.  It was a tool designed to pierce.

Crystal admired the work of art in front of her eyes; she almost didn’t know where to begin.  The boy smirked in contentment.  Crystal began sucking his cock.  At first, she traced the shaft with her tongue and teased the head, but soon she was leveraging him down her throat.  She spit stringers and smeared saliva all over her face and his his meaty member.

With tears dripping out of her eyes and makeup running down her cheeks, Crystal looked up toward the boy and demanded, “Take me.”  

The boy spun Crystal around and pressed the head of his cock against her eager hole.  He slipped it in with ease and her welcoming lips enveloped his shaft.  The boy began fucking Crystal doggy style.

Crystal looked back at the boy and said, “I want to use you.  Sit down.”  Then she hopped on top of the boy’s cock and rode him in cowgirl.  

The boy spun crystal around and placed her feet upon his thighs to further amplify the size disparity between her nimble body and his fantastical fuck tool. Crystal rode the boy in reverse cowgirl. Then she fell back onto her side. The boy joined behind her and they fucked in a spoon position.

Soon, Crystal crawled away.  She turned to face the boy and commanded, “Lift your legs.”  The boy did as he was told.  Crystal dropped to her knees and began tonguing the boy’s asshole while stroking his cock.  The boy loved this.  Soon he was throbbing harder than ever and veins were protruding from his shaft.  Crystal admired him once more, “it’s so beautiful, “ she boasted.

“Now, I want you to feed me your milk,”  She said.  “I’ve been such a good slut, I deserve my treat.”  The boy did as he was instructed, and he rewarded Crystal with a shower of pearls in which for her to bathe.  

Licking her lips, Crystal looked up.  She said, “You gave me what I wanted, you're such a good boy."  Then Crystal turned back to the camera and playfully, she said, “But I still need more.  Who’s going to feed me next?”   

Cut. Print.  

My Stepmother The Whore.

My Stepmother The Whore.

These days in porn Pseudo incest is a trending topic. 

Audiences seem to really get off on the notion of a stepfather taking advantage of his new stepdaughter, or stepsiblings succumbing to their hormonal desires.  So long as the “step” pre-fix is made painfully clear just about anything is fair game.  Sometimes it is silly and light-hearted and sometimes it can hit a little to close to home and teeter on the bounds of uneasiness. 

I can certainly see the allure in this topic; it’s the taboo nature of the whole thing that turns people one. It’s sexy to be bad. 

Speaking of bad, allow me to walk you through the play by play of a scene.  We’ll call it, a day in the life of an Evil Stepson.   

I Recently I shot a scene for the company “Evil Empire.”  This was a first for me.  I knew about Evil Empire long before I dove into porn.  Their content is simply the dirtiest and raunchiest material around.  In my opinion Evil Empire is synonymous with wholesome and quality smut.  So, needless to say I wanted to make a good first impression. 

I performed under the direction of “Darla Vendetta”.  Darla is one of the most powerful and most influential female entities in porn today, and that’s not speculation, its documented, it’s a fact.  Darla is a performer turned director turned producer. 

Her and I met about two years ago on a set where she played the attractive and promiscuous best friend to my character’s dear mother.  Naturally one thing lead to another and Darla succumbed to her lustful urges.  She took advantage of her best friend’s sweet and naïve son, that is, me. 

This time around Darla played maestro and acted as the puppeteer to my meat-marionette.

My co-star was a miss “Nina Knives.”  Nina is a tall, caramel toned, leggy blonde with big fate tits, luscious lips, long gaudy nails, and a head full of extensions.  In other words, she’s a whore. 

The plot: I possess a sick and depraved fascination with my step mother the whore. 

I lurk from a distance and hungrily watch her sunbathe by the pool.  I sneak up behind her and caress her shoulders, taking a big savoring whiff of her hair and perfume.  These small occurrences compound and eventually culminate in me surprising my step mom in the shower and joining her while I am fully clothed in the uniform for my presumably overpriced private school.  Before she has a moment to question my motives I grab her by the hair, forcefully press our bodies together and stick my probing tongue into her mouth and down her throat.  I grope her tight body and worship her voluptuous tits.  Soon she relents and allows her body to relax and give in to temptation.

She has wanted this almost as bad as I have. 

Fully clothed and drenched in the shower I eat out my stepmother’s pussy and asshole from behind.  I stand up, whip out my cock and make her gag on it while the hot water beats down upon her face, causing her whore makeup to run in a gloriously gothic fashion.  I then bend her over and fuck her doggy style.  Soon I lead her out of the shower, strip whatever remaining clothes I still have on, and we continue materializing our pseudo-incestuous lust on the tile floor in front of the deep spa tub and the flaming wood burning stove. 

She gets on her knees and sucks me off as she rubs her clits, then I spin her around and fuck her in an up-and-over doggy style position.  Then I toss her on her back and eat her cunt before fucking her in missionary.  She then blows me and I straddle her and fuck her big fake tits.  Next she bounces up and down on my throbbing cock in reverse cowgirl, and then I haul her onto her side and fuck her in spoon before pulling out and spraying a massive load of creamy white pearls all over her whore face.  We then exchange some witty banter about this tryst being our dirty little secret and that my father must never ever find out.  Cut. Print. 

We cleaned up, we got paid, and we drove away. 

We both return to our respective lives never to see each other again, or maybe we will, who knows.  Porn is a very tight-knit community, after all.  Everybody is having sex with everybody just like one big happy twisted fucking family.