admin

It wasn't a bad summer job. I got to work around filmmakers and still photographers. They had started letting me set up the lighting for some of the shoots, and there was even the promise that, eventually, I might be allowed in the room during the shoot. Who knew? By the end of the summer, I might even be allowed to take a picture or two, get my hands on one of those high-tech Canon Mark IIIs that gave me wood every time I thought about them.

Yes, a perfect job in every way but one.

I couldn't tell anyone what I was doing. Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to brag about this great job to my friends. But, you know the drill. You tell just one person, and then they tell another. And before long, practically the whole town knows your business. Then, it's just a short leap to Sunday morning church service with the parents, and little Miss Havisham from two blocks over creeping over on her arthritic limbs and saying to your mom, loud enough for the deacons to hear, *quot;So, I hear Sean is making promotional films for fucking machines.*quot;

Yeah, better to keep my mouth shut.

My job consisted of interviewing the girls as they came in and getting them to sign the consent forms. The guys had told me it was all right to hit on any of them I wanted, ask for a number. But, to be honest, most of them had that sort of worn look that too much sex and booze and not enough sleep produced. So, I just took the information, got the signatures, and then sent them through the door to disrobe and be filmed while I filed the paperwork. Once in a while, I could hear the moans and the shrieks through the supposedly soundproofed walls as I worked. It made for a pleasant work atmosphere, especially when they synchronized with the swing music that I usually listened to. I mean, just imagine *quot;Take the A Train*quot; punctuated by orgasmic sounds. . .

Da dahhhh (OH, SHIT). Da duh duh da dahhhh (FUCK MEEE). Dahhhhhh (AHHHHHH, GOD) duh duh duh duh duh da da da do do dee doodly do (AH).

I unlocked the door, opened up the appointment book, and sat down behind the desk to await our first girl of the day. She arrived a few minutes late, a shy smile on her face. Her hair was braided into pigtails and she was wearing a mini-skirted outfit with a matching jacket that made her look like a little girl playing grown-up professional. I could even detect the faint citrus y fragrance, and chuckled quietly at the thought of a girl putting perfume on to get fucked by a machine.

*quot;I'm Marie,*quot; she said, and her face flushed a bright red. *quot;I'm here for . . .*quot;

I smiled and nodded, a true professional. Scott, my boss, had told me that one of the reasons he hired me was because I didn't look like a pervert. *quot;It'll calm the girls, *quot; he said, *quot;To see at least one guy who doesn't look like he'd be jacking off to their tapes after work.*quot;

I think that was his way of saying I looked gay. Which I'm not. I'm just tall and lean. Swimmer's build. And, I keep my hair combed and nails clean. But, hell, if it got me the job, I really didn't care.

*quot;I'm Sean,*quot; I said. *quot;I just need to go over a few things with you, and then have you sign the consent forms. You are aware that we can use this video on the Internet for promotional purposes?*quot;

Again, her cheeks turned bright red and she fidgeted in her seat. *quot;Yes,*quot; she whispered. *quot;Scott told me that on the phone.*quot;

I picked up a pen and began to fill out the missing information in her file. Height, hair. Those were already there. Breast size? I took a quick peek. Hard to tell with the jacket on.

*quot;Breast size?*quot; I asked.

*quot;Umm . . . 34 C.*quot; Her tone sounded apologetic, though I didn't think she had anything to be sorry for. I flashed her another smile, designed to relax, and moved on down the list.

*quot;Virgin?*quot;

*quot;Ahhhh . . . mmm . . . .no. Not quite.*quot; Not quite. Intriguing, but probably none of my business.

*quot;That's good.*quot; I nodded reassuringly. *quot;It's easier if you're not.*quot;

*quot;Oh. Okay. Good.*quot; Avrupalı porno She sounded relieved. Maybe she thought I had been going to scold her for losing her virginity.

*quot;*quot;What made you sign up for this?*quot; I didn't even know why we put this question on the application. I could have filled it in without having to ask.

*quot;I need the money.*quot;

Bingo. Thank God for poverty, or the porn industry would be out a lot of cheap labor.

*quot;You're all set.*quot; I slid the consent form across the desk and watched her sign it, her hand trembling a little as she scrawled her name along the line.

*quot;Go through that door. Scott will show you what to do next.*quot;

She nodded and stood. As her hand reached to grasp the knob I added, *quot;Good luck!*quot;

The look she cast in my direction startled me. For a moment, I thought I saw grim determination. It was an odd expression in a room where anticipation, nervousness, and excitement were the norms.

Marie disappeared behind the door and I got busy with my work. I had to call back girls to set up appointments, ship videos, and contact manufacturers. I didn't even give Marie a second thought, in fact, until the door to the studio flew open and Scott came out, his jaw clenched and hair on end where he'd raked his hand through it.

*quot;Trouble, Boss?*quot;

*quot;Frigid,*quot; he muttered. *quot;Goddamn bitch is frigid.*quot;

I raised my eyebrows. Our current client was a company known for making a product that no woman could ride without having an orgasm.

*quot;Damn it!*quot; he swore. *quot;Hot body, great tits. She moans and coos and bites her knuckles. Everything the damn company wants. But she can't cum.*quot;

I moved to shut the door, not wanting Marie to hear his ranting. *quot;Maybe if you just . . .*quot;

*quot;Just what? Damn it. We're supposed to be done with this fucking video tomorrow. *quot;

*quot;Maybe if I?*quot;

Scott looked at me then, really looked at me. *quot;My God, Sean. Maybe that's it. She might just be scared with all us guys in there. I'll go set up the camera and you stay and talk her through it. We have lead-up stuff we can splice in. Just see if you can get a cum shot. Even a little one. Hell, I'll loop it if I have to.*quot;

Thanks, I thought, not for the first time. Thanks for thinking I'm gay.

But, hey ? if I handled this, no telling what was in my future. Maybe I'd get promoted to fluffer.

That's a joke, by the way. Scott's too cheap to hire a fluffer.

I followed Scott into the room. Marie was kneeling on a mattress next to the fucking machine ? a Sighbarbarian 2000. Her face held the kind of guilty look that you usually only saw on puppies after they had peed on the floor or eaten the crotch out of your underwear. Her hands covered her bare breasts, and her thighs were pressed tight together. I retrieved a blanket and settled it around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. A musky curtain of warm, aroused pussy scent surrounded her, and my cock twitched a little.

*quot;Sean's gonna run the cameras,*quot; Scott told her. *quot;Just you and him. It'll be like being alone in your bedroom.*quot;

Scott set up everything, showed me which buttons to push, muttered a few instructions in my ear, and then shooed everyone out.

*quot;We might as well go for lunch,*quot; he commented. *quot;That's give you an hour of quiet, at least. I'll put on the answering machine.*quot;

The door closed behind him and I turned to Marie. *quot;You want to talk first?*quot; I asked. I crouched at the side of the mattress.

*quot;I lied,*quot; she sighed. *quot;I didn't come because of the money.*quot;

*quot;Oh?*quot;

*quot;I can't orgasm.*quot; She sounded like she was going to cry. *quot;I try and try, but when I get close . . . even alone . . I just freeze.*quot;

*quot;Any idea why?*quot; Add counselor to my list of talents.

*quot;It's my mom and dad.*quot;

Oh, crap. I knew teachers had to go to the police if they knew about child abuse. Did the same thing apply to pornographers working with 21-year-olds?

*quot;I'll be going along, Video porno just so close and then . . . I hear their voices in my head. It's a sin. Sex is dirty. A woman shouldn't enjoy it.*quot;

*quot;Bull,*quot; I said. *quot;If women didn't enjoy it, these things would never have been invented.*quot; I patted the machine affectionately.

She shrugged.

*quot;I thought if I did this . . . on a machine no woman could resist . . . I would get over it.*quot;

I sighed. I had no idea what to do to help. *quot;You want to give it another shot?*quot;

She shrugged, her head bent. *quot;I guess.*quot;

*quot;Okay, then, up you go.*quot;

I turned my back to give her privacy while she mounted the machine. When she said, *quot;ready*quot; I turned on the camera and watched her reflection in a small mirror at the side of the door.

The machine looked like a one of those mechanical bulls you see at bars in the Southwest, but it rested flat on the ground. A bumpy rectangular rubber mount on the top accommodated a variety of attachments, including the 7 inch cock that lodged firmly in Marie's pussy. The remote had two knobs, one to control speed and one to control rotations. As the cock whirled inside her, the rubber mount danced against her outer lips. Marie's thighs were spread and her eyes closed as the machine began stimulating her. A flush began at her neck and spread over her shoulders and upper chest. Her hips rocked with the pulsing of the Sighbarbarian. Her nipples, already hardened to the size of a pencil eraser, stood out from her chest and glowed with a sheen of sweat.

*quot;Ahhhhh,*quot; she moaned. *quot;Ahhhh.*quot;

My cock twitched again. Maybe Scott had been right. Maybe she just needed privacy. She writhed against the machine. Her passion seemed to mount and she dropped her hand to her thighs. Her fingers slid along the slick flesh until she found her clit and rubbed it furiously. Her bottom bounced up and down and her pigtails slapped her shoulders. Her breasts, just the perfect size in my estimation, swung back and forth and she would occasionally reach up to squeeze one, or capture it in the crook of her elbow as she raked at her skin with excitement.

*quot;This is it,*quot; I thought. *quot;Come on, sweetie. Bring it home*quot;

But suddenly, she jerked away from the machine, lifting off just enough to break the arousal. Her body stiffened and her face contorted in an expression of pain, despair and disappointment.

*quot;I can't,*quot; she panted. *quot;I can't.*quot;

*quot;You can,*quot; I told her, my back still turned. *quot;Just relax.*quot;

*quot;I can't,*quot; she cried. *quot;I can't cum.*quot;

*quot;Just slide back down and don't let yourself move away.*quot;

*quot;I can't,*quot; she shrieked. *quot;I just can't.*quot;

*quot;Damn it!*quot; I whirled around and strode across the room. Kneeling behind her, I wrapped one arm around her and planted her cute little ass firmly on the leather seat of the machine. Then, I grabbed the remote and cranked it up to medium.

*quot;You are going to cum,*quot; I muttered. *quot;So just relax and enjoy it.*quot;

She struggled against me, almost panicked. *quot;No!*quot;

I grabbed a nipple and squeezed it hard. *quot;You are going to cum, Marie. It's not a sin.*quot;

She squirmed in my arms, her breathing coming faster, a moan escaping from her lips. I grabbed a handful of breast and gripped it hard, suddenly understanding what I needed to do.

*quot;You have no choice,*quot; I said. *quot;I am going to make you cum and you're going to like it. You can't stop me.*quot;

She continued breathing in harsh rasps, but I knew she heard me. I pressed my lips against her ear, drawing the lobe in between my teeth and biting down on the soft flesh. *quot;You like being a dirty little girl, don't you Marie? But you're only going to be my dirty little girl. My naughty little slut.*quot;

I slid one hand up to her neck, tightening my fingers just enough to make her aware of my strength. The other hand glided down over the soft skin of her belly. My fingers dove into the soft curls that hid her clit and I began massaging it as I pulled her back against my chest.

*quot;I'm going to fuck my little slut hard,*quot; I whispered. *quot;Fuck her so hard after she cums for me.*quot;

I jerked back against her throat. *quot;But . . . you don't get to cum until I say so. Do you understand, my slut?*quot;

*quot;Oh, fuck,*quot; she whispered. *quot;ohhhh ... fuckkkkk . . *quot;

God, that nearly undid me. I wanted to yank my cock out of my pants and bury it in her sweet ass. But I had to stay in control so she could lose control.

*quot;You want my cock, baby? You want my big cock shoved up your tight pussy?*quot;

Her skin was so hot it almost burned my lips when I brushed a kiss against her temple. Her fragrance, the citrus perfume mixed with the heady smell of her arousal, rose off her in waves. I moved both hands to her hips and held her against the machine while she panted. She was past the point of forming words, and only short, high-pitched noises came from her throat. My cock strained against the confines of my jeans and I rubbed my bulge against her ass lewdly, letting her feel how turned on she made me.

*quot;You'd better wait,*quot; I muttered. *quot;Wait till I say you can ?*quot;

She stiffened in my arms and it happened. One long, continuous orgasm rolled through her body. I kept her against the machine, letting it draw the spasms from her,. Then, I loosened my hold and she fell forward, her hips still riding the machine, the rubber mount now slick and shiny with her juices. Her ass squirmed and her tits bounced and I couldn't resist. I gave her a swat hard enough to leave a handprint against her pale skin. She shuddered again and I saw her pussy almost swallow the rubber cock as she rode it. The outer lips were swollen and dark pink and when she went limp and began to slide off, I lifted her off and laid her down on the mattress.

Her legs parted for me as I knelt between them and her hips rose to meet my mouth and tongue almost gratefully. Though I had taken the testimonials of other users, I had found it hard to believe that the machine didn't de-sensitize them, that the orgasms didn't deplete them. In fact, they all claimed it made them hornier, made them crave the feel, the taste, the thrust of a real cock. And here was first hand proof. Marie's hands twined in my hair and she ground her pussy against my face. Her sweet juices coated my nose and cheeks as I wrapped my lips around her clit and fluttered my tongue against it. I shoved three fingers in her pussy and began pistoning my hand in and out. I could sense her writhing on the mattress, tossing back and forth. Her hands released my hair and I glanced up just long enough to see her grab her breasts, squeezing the nipples so hard that her fingertips turned white. I ran my tongue up and down her pussy lips, marveling at the swollen thickness of her aroused flesh. As I pumped my hand in and out of her, I turned my wrist so my thumb could penetrate her ass. This elicited a shudder from her and she half-rose off the mattress, crying out in passion, before collapsing and undulating again.

My swollen cock leaked copious amounts of pre-cum as my hips ground into the mattress. I almost reached down to release my zipper, but Marie suddenly bent backward nearly in half and screamed, then squirted so much fluid from her pussy that it drenched my arm up to the elbow. Her body shuddered once . . . twice . . three more times, then stilled. I glanced up and saw tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, her face peaceful.

I slowly withdrew my hand, every movement sending a quiver across Marie's body. I grabbed the blanket I had wrapped around her earlier and laid it over her.

*quot;Rest now, baby,*quot; I whispered. *quot;You have time.*quot;

She murmured in acknowledgement and I scooted off the mattress to give her some space. I remembered to turn off the camera, then I returned to my desk in the reception area. My hand was still wet with her juices, and I rubbed a finger across my lips, tasting her one last time before drying off my skin.

For twenty minutes, I sat and stared at the door to the studio, smiling a little as I pictured the sated girl lying there. I wondered if I could work up the nerve to ask her out. And, then, if I did ask her out . . .

Would she say yes?