Filthy Dirty Normal, Volume 3 Page 2

  “Wait for our direction,” said the photographer. At first, Amanda wondered what he meant, but then she realized that her other hand was beneath the hem of her dress, tracing slow circles on her inner thigh. She pulled the hand out and muttered an apology.

  There were more flashes, and Avery told Amanda to put her lips on his cock.

  Amanda looked around. Outside of the circle of light, at least seven or eight men and women were milling, carrying equipment and paperwork and plugging and unplugging cables. Every once in a while, one would look over, but most didn’t seem to care. This was just another day at work for them.

  Amanda pressed her soft lips to the head of Tony’s cock. She felt it twitch.

  More flashes.

  Avery told her to take it deeper into her mouth, to suck it, and to lick it. Every few seconds, the strobes would flash and either Avery or the photographer (whose name she hadn’t gotten) would tell her to move her mouth or her body somewhere else. It wasn’t at all like giving a normal blowjob. For one, she was never really sucking or stroking. She was posing, then posing somewhere else. She understood how some guys might not be able to come, because there wasn’t much action.

  She was so wet, she felt like she must be dripping.

  There was a pause when a man in jeans came up to Avery with a clipboard. Amanda stood with her waist bent, her ass sticking out, and her hand and mouth halfway down Tony’s shaft. Five seconds passed. Ten seconds. It was a very long time to stand still with a guy’s cock just sitting there in your mouth.

  So Amanda moved down on his cock, twisting her hand around the shaft in a circular motion. Then she came back up, doing it again. Her mouth came off at the top, and she ran her tongue over her lips to redistribute her saliva. Then she went back down on it, stroking and running her lips up and down it. Tony gave a tiny moan, but didn’t break character. His eyes remained closed. So she gave the underside a few licks with her tongue, and this time she could feel him clench.

  “Okay,” said Avery. “That’s it for your attempts to wake him up with your mouth. Let’s get to the hardcore. You need a drink or anything?

  Amanda hadn’t realized they would probably take breaks. She couldn’t afford a break. She couldn’t take any more waiting.

  “No, let’s keep going,” she said, managing to keep her enthusiasm under control. “You just want me to …” And she started to move over him, her hands at the bottom of her dress.

  But Avery explained that before they got down to anything, they needed a few “air shots,” where genitals would be aligned but not actually doing anything. Amanda almost moaned. She couldn’t stand any air shots. But she did as she was told, first straddling Tony halfway, then hiking up her dress to expose the lacy red panties they’d given her. By the time Avery finally told her to hook a finger into the crotch of the panties and pull them aside, Amanda felt like she was going to explode.

  The tingling of air from a fan at the side of the set on her exposed wetness alone almost sent her over the edge. Amanda started to lower down, dying to be filled.

  “Okay,” said Avery. “Now, pause above it.”

  Amanda could feel her pulse in every bit of flesh between her legs. She could feel it hammering in her chest. It felt like the thing might leap out of her ribcage.

  She lowered herself into a semi-squat, her dilating pink lips an inch from the tip of his cock.

  Bulbs flashed.

  “Do one up a little bit more.”

  Amanda straightened up, still using one hand to hold her dress up and the other to hold the crotch of her panties aside.

  Flash.

  “Now down again.”

  Flash.

  “Juuuust above it. Like, almost touching, but not actually touching, like it’s just about to slide in.”

  The words slide in made Amanda’s head spin. If something didn’t happen soon, she was either going to come spontaneously or pass out. She could actually feel the heat coming off of his cock, she was so close.

  “Okay,” said Avery. “Aaaaand…”

  But then the photographer interrupted her and said, “Hang on. I need a meter on that before we continue.”

  OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, thought Amanda.

  Another assistant stepped into frame and held a device with a milky white circle of glass or plastic on it in front of their almost-touching genitals. He read a number to the photographer, who made some sort of an adjustment.

  Ten seconds passed. Fifteen.

  One little lick wouldn’t hurt.

  Amanda dipped her hips, and the very tip of Tony’s cock slid between her folds. It looked like the open, pink-flushed lips were kissing it, just as her mouth-lips had done earlier. Then, after no more than a second, she straightened back up off of him.

  “Wait!” said the photographer. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

  Avery reached beside her, grabbed a box of tissues, and extended them to Tony. Tony opened his eyes, grabbed one, and wiped her juices off of the head of his cock. He handed the tissues back and whispered to Amanda, “Better wait for them to tell you to do stuff before you do it.”

  The photographer took some more air shots, then said something to Avery. Avery turned to Amanda and said, “Okay, now put it inside and slide down onto it.”

  It was the most glorious sentence Amanda had ever heard. She squatted down, and her tunnel greedily swallowed Tony’s length inch by inch. She felt so, so full. Everything was swollen with blood because she’d been anticipating for hours, and now she could feel it pushing into her, filling her from the inside out…

  As she reached the bottom, she suddenly felt as if she was above herself, outside of her body in some otherworldly way. The waves that had been at their cresting point crashed. Her insides gripped his cock, thrumming against its hard length as she came. Wave after wave of orgasm ran through her. She was helpless, fully down on his lap, unable to move or stand, until it was over. She realized that her mouth had come open, her eyes had closed, and she must have shouted out because everyone was looking at her.

  Once her head returned to normal, she looked at Avery and the photographer, who were patiently waiting, unperturbed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” said Avery. “Let’s take five and clean you up.”

  At first, Amanda didn’t know what Avery was talking about … but then she looked down and saw that she’d soaked the base of Tony’s cock with juices. Her own smooth outer and inner lips were coated and shiny, and there were drops of fluid in his pubic hair.

  Amanda was unable to move. She was mortified. Everyone was still looking at her.

  Tony’s cock slid frictionlessly out of her as she stood and flopped onto his belly, where it left a wet mark. Amanda stepped away her legs shaking. She used a tissue to wipe her still-tender folds, and re-situated the panties. Then, because they were apparently taking a break, she pulled her dress back and down into place. A second later, she could have just been another girl on the street, with no indication that she’d just one-pump-chumped on a guy she’d just met, in front of a camera and a half dozen assistants.

  Tony was sitting up. He reached out and gripped her leg lightly.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her face reddening.

  “I’m not,” he said. “This job just got interesting again.”

  The Hardcore Photo Shoot - Part 2

  Amanda stood in the bathroom, looking herself over from head to toe. Because her pussy was located somewhere between her head and her toes, she looked at it, too.

  She was wearing a short red dress, and she’d hiked it up around her waist. Under the dress were a pair of lacy red panties, and these she’d pulled down to just above her knees. She placed her hands on her flat stomach, occasionally toying with the small piercing through her belly button, and appraised herself.

  Hair in place. Check.

  Makeup unsmudged. Check.

  Pussy smooth and more or less dry, at least
by outside appearances. Check.

  Of course, the inside was another matter entirely. Amanda had wiped down the insides of her thighs with toilet paper twice already, and still she could feel the way everything was moving very smoothly down below. It was as if an engineer had looked at the slit between her legs and decided that such a fracture down the middle of a person would require intense lubrication if the machine was to do any walking.

  The orgasm she’d had out in the other room had to have been one of her most intense ever. After that had happened — in front of the entire crew, no less — she’d wiped down, come in here, and rubbed herself to two more bone-shattering climaxes, but they’d barely helped. She seemed to be a bottomless well. It was as if she needed to sneeze, but every time she sneezed, she didn’t quite get it all. A tickle always remained.

  Amanda didn’t wear a watch (wearing one while photographers took pictures of her fucking a guy she’d just met would be ridiculous anyway) and her purse was in the main room, but there was a small digital clock on the bathroom counter. Amanda looked at it. She’d been in here for ten minutes. They’d called for a fifteen-minute break in the shoot, so her time had to be almost up. Her co-star Tony might already be out there, possibly naked under the afghan on the couch again, ready to pick up where they’d left off — the part where, after a bit of preamble, Amanda was supposed to slide down onto his cock while he pretended to be asleep. This action by her character, of course, would finally wake his character. Then the real fun would begin.

  Earlier, she’d asked Tony — who was all business, funnily enough — if they’d simply pose for individual photographs with parts of him inside of parts of her, or if they’d actually be screwing between the shots. Now, standing in the bathroom hornier than she’d ever been, she couldn’t believe she’d asked. Of course they’d fuck. Of course she’d slide up and down on his cock instead of just posing halfway down its length. And of course, if he was in charge in a certain position, she would encourage him to keep his erection between shots in the most natural way possible.

  She’d been worried about coming off as unprofessional. This was a business she was in, after all. The website that they were taking photos for was known for its excellent, high-class erotic photography and video. The photographer and assistants and grips and union people were all just doing a job, mostly immune to the sexuality of it all. Amanda had been concerned, once she’d warmed up, about being too into the scene. But now it didn’t seem to matter.

  Let them think she was an unprofessional whore if they must. She needed dick, and she needed it bad.

  Her head was spinning again. She felt like all of the blood in her body had migrated to the space between her waist and her knees, and none of it was left to fuel her brain. Everything down there was pink and swollen, ripe like fruit. Everything was glistening — again, despite the fact that she’d been outwardly dry a minute ago.

  Amanda ripped off another swatch of toilet paper and ran it down between her legs. It came away too wet to use again, so she tossed it into the toilet and grabbed another few sheets and repeated the action. This time she got more of it, but the attention she was giving her pussy reminded her of how the photographer had told her to hover above Tony’s cock, not touching it — and how glorious it had felt when she’d finally been permitted to slide it inside of her.

  Fuck. This isn’t helping.

  Amanda looked at the clock on the countertop. She’d been in the bathroom for twelve minutes.

  They were almost certainly ready for her, but she knew how long it might be — with all the photographic screwing around that was involved — before Tony’s cock was inside of her again. So she closed her eyes, slid two fingers inside of herself, and began to use her thumb to rub her clit, hoping that the third time would finally be the charm.

  She could be ready in sixty seconds.

  When she sat down in the canvas chair next to Tony, he gave her a small, sideways smile.

  “What?” she said.

  “You look good,” he said. “Refreshed, I mean.”

  “I just needed to go and splash some water on my face,” she said. But of course, that was a lie because splashing water on her face would have ruined her makeup.

  “Are you enjoying your first hardcore photoshoot?”

  “Sure. No problems.”

  “Have you figured out how you want to handle things between photos?”

  She didn’t look over. She could feel herself blushing. He was playing with her, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Everyone in the house-slash-studio had heard her scream with pleasure when she’d slid down onto him earlier — one pump and she was done. There was really no question about how incredibly turned on she’d been, and how turned on she obviously still was. The crooked smile she could see on Tony’s face out of the corner of her eye said that he knew exactly what she’d been doing in the bathroom, and knew exactly how wet she still was, despite her repeated attempts to towel off.

  “Whatever happens is fine,” she said.

  Tony smiled wider and said nothing. But then, after a long moment, he leaned toward her and whispered in her ear.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “I was so turned on after what you did that I had to go into the bathroom on the other side of the house and clear the pipes.”

  That should have been the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to her, but instead of finding it gross, Amanda found herself flattered and appeased. Before they’d begun, Tony had warned her about forming attachments to people she worked with and about the importance of keeping work and play separate. She’d taken him to mean that the healthiest way to shoot porn scenes was to be aroused enough to get the job done, but no more aroused than that. But if the seasoned pro was turned on? Well, that said something.

  “Really?” she said, looking over.

  “Your naiveté is hot,” he said.

  “I’m not naive,” she said.

  “What I mean is, this is all real to you. Porn sex isn’t hot to me anymore because it feels fake. I insist on keeping things so businesslike, but now I wonder if I’m missing out. You’re not able to do what I do yet, and the … the reality of your emotions is obvious. And very, very arousing.”

  “That’s awfully presumptuous,” she said, turning to face forward.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  They both watched the couch, where assistants were taking final light readings in preparation for resuming the shoot. Amanda wasn’t sure whether she was angry or horny. It could be either, or it could be both.

  “But,” he said, still looking forward, “I am very much looking forward to having my dick in your pussy. I’m just saying. And, you know, it’s going to happen either way, so it’s not creepy of me to say that.”

  Amanda tried to stay annoyed, but a puff of air rose from her lungs and spurted out of her as laughter. Now she didn’t know if she was angry, horny, or amused. It could be any, or it could be all three.

  “Do I put it in your ass in this scene?” he said.

  “No.” Still laughing.

  “Oh. Okay. Then I’m not interested in that, because that would be a creepy thing for me to say. But if it were in the contract, I wouldn’t feel put out by it.”

  Amanda laughed harder, trying to stay quiet and failing. She put her hand over her mouth.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she said.

  “I do. But always with that caveat. I always ask them first whether I’m supposed to put it in their asses, and only proceed to say that I’d be okay with putting it in their asses if the answer is yes. Sometimes — like with cashiers at the grocery store and girls on the street — the answer is no.”

  “I should try saying that to guys. Like, for real.”

  Tony smirked and said nothing. Amanda looked down and saw that a tent was forming in his robe. She was trying to be funny, but apparently he hadn’t taken her joke entirely as a joke.

  The photographer’s assistant, Avery, walked ove
r and stood in front of them with a businesslike air.

  “Ready?” she said.

  Tony said yes. Amanda nodded.

  Tony’s presumption and jokes had disarmed Amanda’s lust somewhat, but Avery’s arrival caused her entire middle to yell for attention again. Getting back to business meant that she would soon have a cock inside of her.

  The unreality of it all still hadn’t totally sunk in. You weren’t supposed to be sitting next to someone chatting one minute, then touching genitals with that person while people watched the next minute.

  She looked over at Tony. He looked so laid back, like it was just another day on the job.

  But in a minute, his cock will be out. And then my pussy will be out. And we’ll put them together.

  Beside her, Tony smiled. In any other job, they could be chatting about their weekend in the break room, drinking coffee, maybe dreading doing some TPS reports, and nobody would see anybody naked.

  “So,” said Avery. “Tony, you were uncovered on the couch, and she was squatting down on you. Right? And that’s when …” She looked at Amanda, who blushed. “Well. Anyway, that’s where we were.”

  Tony laid down on the couch under the lights. His dick wasn’t totally limp, but wasn’t all the way hard. Amanda looked at it greedily. It was giving her a thrill to think about how she shouldn’t be looking right at a guy’s junk right here in front of everyone, and she wondered what that said about her.

  Now don’t touch that, you naughty girl …

  Without waiting for direction, Amanda reached down and began to run her fingers back and forth on Tony’s cock.

  “Hey, who said you could touch that?” he said.

  “Go ahead and get it hard,” said the photographer, stating the obvious.

  “Ooookay,” said Tony. “You can touch it.”