DEPRAVED INNOCENCE: The Education of a Porn Star Page 2

  My hair was a mess and I smelled of sperm. I hoped to get to the shower before anyone saw I was home, and if I had been a little smarter I would have showered in Martin’s room but maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. He liked me a little too much, I thought. Sex was fine. Romance was not. I had a boyfriend.

  Moving back in with my parents had not been easy, since they had welcomed an empty nest, but there was just not enough money for anything but tuition and books that semester. I offered to drop out and get a real job, but they wouldn’t hear of it. They still believed in the American Dream.

  My mother is still very young. She’d had me when she was 17. She is also a beauty with the same black hair and blue eyes I have; we are sometimes taken for sisters. My father is in good shape and still works out every day. He looks a little geeky sometimes and his beard is going gray.

  When I got home, she was in the kitchen preparing dinner. I handed her the two hundred-dollar bills. She looked at me strangely, slightly alarmed because it was obvious what I had been doing, and asked, “Where did this come from?”

  “It’s the rent.”

  She felt the bills between her fingers and sighed. “Where...”

  “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

  She stared a moment and nodded because she suspected that hundred dollar tips were not left by the customers at that hotel every day. It was one of the many things we never talked about, like why she was dressed the way she was.

  “I’m not one to talk, am I?”

  She was wearing the black leather slave collar, with the steel ring in front, around her neck and then I saw her wrists. She had leather cuffs on, too.

  “Poker night?” There may have been some ‘pot- calling-the-kettle-black’ sarcasm in my voice.

  She nodded, flushing with embarrassment, but unable to suppress a grin. She leaned over and whispered, “Even when he loses I win.”

  I wondered how my middle-class white-bread parents had come to this? Organized adultery, with kinks no less! My father’s poker game had originally just been the usual kind of thing where men had a good time playing cards and trading their money and lies back and forth. They were all middle-management types. Guys who barbequed on the weekend and watch sports on television. But they had a secret life beyond that, it turned out, much to my surprise. I’d been clueless.

  After I had moved to the dorm the previous year, and he and a couple of his friends lost their jobs, the stakes somehow changed from money to sex, with their wives dressing in fetish gear and acting as maids at the game. I guess they had all been swingers all along, but careful to keep it private and away from the kids. My mother was a teacher, for God’s sake! If that got out she would be ruined professionally.

  She always looked very hot in her French Maid outfit and outshone the rest of the wives of the Poker club. Rather than money, chips were bet against sexual favors at the end of the evening, but Dad was usually the big winner, so it was all a tease, since he might feel one of the other wives up, but nothing more. He said he preferred “home cooking”.

  Until the night he busted out and Mom had to spend a three day weekend with my Uncle Jack. I suspected that he had something to do with the change in the stakes. Jack wasn’t my real uncle, but a BDSM Dom who enjoyed cuckolding other men. He made Dad watch as Mom went down on him right in front of all the players. That was just mean. Dad took the humiliation with poor grace, especially when Mom returned from that three day weekend with red welts on her ass and a dreamy look in her eyes. Jack had taken her some places sexually she had never been. She had a very good time, she said, but spared us the details.

  Dad supposed I knew none of this, of course, but Mom and I have always been close, and she, blushing all the while, was proud of how she had also gotten Jack to give her enough money to make the mortgage payment that month (another reason she couldn’t question my extra income – she was something of a whore herself). Jack still had a good job and an income. He was a rich son-of-a-bitch, my father said bitterly. We were selling off things at the local swap meet and on e-Bay to get by.

  Somehow, Dad thought he could still play Poker and get his pride back, but his losing streak continued. My parents had been kinky a long time, but this was destroying them and their marriage, because it stopped being just a game they played. Dad was drinking too much, and Mom was actually very angry with him, because sometimes she ended up with men she didn’t like, or their wives, which grossed her out at first. With all of that going on, I didn’t think that whoring on the side at work was anything but an opportunity to help out. Certainly nothing she could criticize. But it was never going to be anything we talked about. I was never invited to the Poker games, and Uncle Jack freaked me out when he smiled at me in a certain way, as if it were only a matter of time before I, too, ended up in his homemade dungeon.

  Not if I could help it. Doing porn was a better, safer, choice any day.

  “Now take off your jeans, “ Justin said.

  I unzipped them and slid them down my hips.

  He walked over and felt my small, flat breasts, mauling them a bit with warm, strong hands. I felt a rush of pleasure.

  “Really solid, “ he murmured, “you work out?” He teased my nipples to make them stand up and then twisted them a bit. The sensation was not unpleasant. It hurt, but in a good way. I felt myself smile at him. He looked puzzled.

  “This doesn’t turn you on? Being naked in front of other people?”

  “Not usually. I’m a little shy.” I looked in the mirror in the dresser and a small, pretty girl with a narrow waist, flat stomach, wide hips and big blue eyes looked back at me. I was tanned and fit because I worked out at the college gym to meet my P.E. requirement, and took a gymnastics class, although I hadn’t tried out for the team or for cheerleading because of the money troubles. Having to work on top of my studies meant that I had no extra time either. Most days I ran short of sleep. It made my eyes heavy-lidded , which gave my face a sensual look.

  “You don’t think about what I might do to you?”

  He may have thought I was lying about my experience.

  He’d sure looked at my driver’s license hard to see that it was legit.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about my parents.”

  He frowned. “Kinky.”

  Yes, they are, I thought, but didn’t say it aloud. He looked closely at my pussy, leaning in to take a video shot of it.

  “You’re bare,” he remarked. “You keep it bald like that all the time? Not even a landing strip?”

  I nodded. I’d watched enough Porn to know what the fashion was.

  “Well it makes things easier. You may have a natural talent for this.”

  “A friend of mine shaves it. Once a week. With a straight razor.”

  “Girlfriend?” which was a polite way of asking if she did other things to me, I thought, and I was certainly going to be eaten and eating pussy myself if I got the job.

  “I trust her.” Let him wonder. It excited him. He had his own pants off now and I saw him get hard. He posed me on all fours on the bed and leaned in behind me with the handheld camera. I felt his fingers spread my labia, as I got a bit wet there.

  “Close-ups are important. The Japanese especially like them.”

  “Whatever you like, I’m here to please.” I tried to make a joke of it, but I felt myself suddenly blushing with embarrassment. It wasn’t the sex, but the exposure. Talk about feeling like a piece of meat!

  “What we are going to do,” he explained, “Is a series of standard poses. You’re really adorable, but you have to have good reactions and not just lay there.”

  He set the camera on the tripod to one side, looking at the little monitor until he had the shot framed properly, as I sat on the edge of the bed, and then he pushed me down on my back.

  “Pull up your legs and spread them wide,” he said.

  I lay flat on my back and did as he asked, spreading and holding my knees apart to give him a good view of my pus
sy. He knelt on the floor and began to tease my clit with his tongue. I gasped and then relaxed as I felt my vagina swelling. He leaned further in and bit gently on my labia, which made me cry out, and then he slowly licked my clit again. That got my attention and I took a deep breath as electricity seemed to flow to my center. I felt my hips move involuntarily.

  Then he was sucking and biting me there in such a way that I felt myself slipping away into a semi-conscious state, making these little involuntary cries, drowning in pleasure.

  Mom and I had had “The Talk” when my period began when I was twelve, but we’d never covered this. She liked sex, too, but couldn’t bring herself to talk about the fun parts.

  I wondered how my mother, who, in her public life was so prim and proper, managed to let herself become such a fuck-bunny slut with Dad and his friends? To let herself become, even for a few hours, their sex slave? She was no wimp. Something about being dominated and used really turned her on. If it were not for her job, she would have been proud to have her humiliations recorded and distributed on the World Wide Web for everyone to see. She loved being the center of so much attention. And seeing Dad humiliated had made her more able to go the other way, trying to deal with her anger and disappointment with him. She was suggesting that he wear the leather collar. Role reversal. Not a good idea. If he went that far, his sense of himself as a man would be pretty much destroyed, I thought. The thought of my mother as a dominatrix, as pretty as she is, drove me over the edge into an orgasm.

  Justin was gratified. “Much better,” he said. “On your knees.”

  Obediently, I turned over and he entered me from behind. He was very large, and I was wet, but it was difficult at first.

  “Your pussy is really tight,” he said, drawing back and trying again. This time he got deeper but I felt the stretching of my pussy so much I almost fainted.

  “Oh, my!” I gasped. It was worse pain than from the gynecologist’s speculum, but then got better as he filled me up with cum and I came again, and then again. I laid there panting, feeling him, feeling that huge cock of his deep within me, stretching me. It was the most interesting combination of pain and pleasure I’d ever felt. He slipped out and presented his cock to my mouth and I must say I was eager to suck him and taste his sperm. I pumped him up and down the length of the second-largest cock I’d ever seen up to that point. He actually had a foreskin, the first I’d ever seen, and I tried to get my tongue under it as I licked his hard rubber-like tip. He came again, shooting his load into my mouth and I felt his cum all over my face and dripping down my neck on to my breasts. He shot a close-up with the hand-held and jumped back and went to check the camera on the tripod. He hit the replay and nodded.

  “I was afraid we’d gotten out of the frame , but it’s all there. You want to see?” I nodded. He flipped the little camera monitor over and I could see his huge cock slowly enter my pussy, which seemed engorged, even inflamed. It excited me and I was suddenly ready for more. I was smiling! I lay there breathing heavily. He went into the bathroom and found a towel, which he used to wipe himself off and then tossed to me.

  “You’re making a mess,” he cracked.

  “Me? You’re like a fountain.” I dried off as well as I could, “What next?”

  He handed me the handheld, with the monitor flipped out so I could see the shot.

  “Keep your face in the frame. I’m going to expand your pussy and we want to see you have a reaction so we can cut those shots in.”

  He slipped his finger in gently, back and forth and I began to relax into it. As he found my ‘G spot’, I stretched my legs far apart for the other camera, my feet stretching straight out like a ballerina’s, as my body stretched of its own accord and my hips moved and I whimpered with the sheer joy of what he was doing to me. I felt two fingers go in and then three. My face in the monitor looked pained and then excited. I closed my eyes, still holding the camera before me until a massive orgasm shook my body and I almost dropped the camera. He caught it and looked at me, smiling.

  “Better, eh?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I purred.

  “Now we try the back door.”

  I frowned. “Do we have to?”

  “It’s standard.” And waited for an objection. This was not something I would do for money, with ‘clients’, so it was new to me. My set in High School thought it was kind of nasty, and stayed away from it. But he was serious and expected it and I wanted the job.

  “Okay.” I said, and turned over and he poured some sort of lotion in the crack of my ass. Very gently he pressed his cock into my asshole, slowly expanding it until the head of it popped through. The pain was worse than anything I’d felt since I broke my arm when I was twelve.

  “Ahhhhh!” I groaned, “You thought my pussy was tight!”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Oh, yes!” The pain was like a broken bone in my ass. I wondered what this was going to look like on camera and turned my head towards the one on the tripod.

  “I guess we’ll have to practice more.” I felt myself smiling, despite the pain. I was actually beginning to like it! And I was getting excited again! I wondered if my mother ever suffered this, but likely she had, and gladly. Mom really liked sex, but was old fashioned about it. Talking about it made her blush.

  Justin stroked slowly in and out until he came again, and then I had to rush to the bathroom because it was all going to come out and then some. It was like having an enema and everything rushed out into the bowl. My nose wrinkled at the smell. He followed me in with the other camera and videoed me pissing.

  “This is just gross, “ I said.

  “Not my fave, but there’s a market for this too,” he said. He indicated the box of wet wipes on the sink.

  “Clean very carefully. We have more to do. Flush twice.”

  He used some air freshener to kill the smell so it wouldn’t invade the other room.

  We went back in that room. Justin looked at me a long moment, his expression very cold and analytical. That, for some reason, got me excited again. He would use me hard, I thought, and that idea was very exciting. I felt my nipples pop out.

  “You look more like a movie star than just a porn star. There’s none of that lewd cynical complicity in your face. You’re going to do well, Rebecca. You have what it takes.”

  “You said there’s more?”

  He picked up his clipboard and looked at a list.

  “I am going to fuck you laying on your side with your leg over my shoulder. Just relax and enjoy it. I’d like to see you cum two more times, even if you have to fake it, and I need some top-down point-of-view footage of you sucking my cock. Why, are you tired?”

  “No. Actually I’m having fun. You’re a very good lover. I usually don’t come when someone eats me out, and even regular orgasms are rare. But this has been great, and you’ve made me feel like a lady, even when I’m acting like a complete whore.”

  “Actually you are a lady, and you should always act that way. It really makes porn better when you have that look of depraved innocence, like you don’t really know what’s going on and just can’t help yourself. ”

  He drew me closer to the camera on the tripod, had me kneel, and then put his hand in my hair, gently guiding me to suck him off again. I wrapped both hands around his cock, like it was a baseball bat, and moved the skin back and forth slowly, feeling him build to another climax. Where did he get it all?

  He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down until my lips touched the head of it. I opened my mouth to take him as deep as I could. I felt myself getting very hot, because I like being forced into humiliating sexual positions. It turns me on, and then some. He was depleted and it took quite a long time, which allowed me to get into the rhythm of the thing. Then we did the side fucking, which was very nice and I didn’t have to fake anything. I lost track of the number of orgasms I had, but, as job interviews went, it was very satisfactory. Memorable, in fact.

  Finally we were done. I p
ut my clothes back on, stopping to let him take a few still shots with the Nikon: kind of a reverse strip tease. I was feeling in quite a good humor. If this was going to be my career, then I was going to make the best of it and try to enjoy every minute, and I was off to a good start!

  After we were done I took a shower and used some of the hotel’s courtesy mouthwash and tooth paste. I looked like I had “been rode hard and put away wet” but felt entirely happy. It was perhaps the best sex I’d ever had. And he was so nice, too.

  “Anything else?” I asked as he counted out ten one-hundred dollar bills.

  “How about a kiss?” he said in a joking tone.

  “That’s right. You never kissed me. Why not?”

  “Too intimate. Most of the girls save that exclusively for their significant other.”

  He was entirely serious, I saw.

  “You can do anything to them but that.”

  He paused and began to pull on his own clothes.

  “You have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

  “Both,” I said, “But they won’t mind.” And reached my arms around his neck, drawing him to me for a long, lovely kiss that lasted several minutes and almost started the whole thing over again without the cameras. But there would be time for that later. He really was cute, and I wanted to see him again, job or no job. I just hoped he didn’t have a regular girlfriend or a wife.

  “Been a pleasure,” he murmured.

  I leaned back and replied primly, “I think it’s been the equivalent of a formal introduction.”

  He laughed and slapped me on the ass fairly hard.

  It stung and...I liked that, too!

  I went to the library to study before I returned home, so it was many hours later when I got there. Mom was in the kitchen fixing dinner. No collar this night. She smiled at me. “What have you been up to?”