Work Text:
You walk on set in your typical fashion—hair tied up in a messy bun, prescription glasses resting on the bridge of your nose, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with a grande latte with double espresso in your freshly manicured hand. Part of you dreads how long the day is going to be with shooting and scene preparation, while the other part buzzes with excitement.
“You ready for your scene today?” Penny, your agent, asks, face glowing with just as much excitement. You give her an enthusiastic smile and a quick nod. “Good,” she smiles back, hands coming up to grab at your shoulders, her deep green eyes catching yours. “Sammy’s the best in the business. I hear his cock’s insured for a million dollars.”
“That seems a bit drastic,” you murmur before finishing off your latte.
Penny just smiles warmly. “You’ll see dear,” she
pats your shoulders. “I can guarantee you won’t be faking any orgasms for
the camera today.”
“Don’t write checks you can’t cash, Pen,” you say
wryly, giving her a playful wink.
“Now you know my checks are always good, honey,”
she chuckles, swatting your ass before shoving you towards the makeup and hair
department. “Go get ready,” she commands with a cheeky wink. “Sammy should be arriving in a few hours.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” You call out without looking
back at her as you fake salute.
Tiffany pushes you down into her chair with a smile on her lips, blonde hair bouncing as she practically vibrates with excitement. She’s been your hair and makeup girl since you entered to industry, and she damn well
qualifies as one of your best friends.
“Have you seen who you get to romp with today?” She
gushes as she removes your glasses and hands you a contacts case. You chuckle
as you pop your lenses in, listening to her ramble on about the dashing and horse-hung Sammy Winchester. “He’s, like, the God of porn, ya know,” she sighs as she wipes your face down with witch-hazel pads. “It’s crazy
to me that you’re only now doing a scene with him. I mean, you’ve been in this industry—what? Eight years now?”
“Ten,” you correct her with a smile, shrugging when
you say, “But who’s counting.”
Ten years. Fuck, that seemed like forever.
You joined the adult entertainment industry right out of your
second year of college as a nineteen-year-old looking for
money. However, success didn’t come easy—you had to sleep with dudes who didn’t
have a clue at first, shooting in low-budget or no-budget-at-all-actually films
and sketchy basements for the first year in the biz. After you won your first
AVN—the favorite newcomer award for the film College Girls XXX—you became a household name.
Well, as household as you can get for a porn star.
After Tiffany finishes you up, you head over to wardrobe,
where you’re handed an expensive lingerie set and a pair of tasteful stilettos.
You wash up a bit in the bathroom before getting dressed, making sure you clean
and fresh for the scene. You’re still a bit tender from getting a full body wax
the day before, but that’s just a small price to pay compared to the pretty
penny you’re getting for this scene—which is easily in the four-figures range
considering your pedigree in the industry.
Once you’re donned in pricey lace and silk and hosiery and
said hosiery clips, you slip on the bathrobe you usually wore before a scene; a
short satin number that had your name embroidered on the left breast panel in
fancy cursive—your real name, not your stage name.
You don’t put on the stilettos just yet, because you’d rather
not have achey feet before filming even begins. And just as Tiffany touches up
the powder on your nose and forehead, Penny comes traipsing to you with glee in
her eyes and a smile full of mischief that makes you a bit nervous.
“He’s here!” She sing-songs. “And great fuck, he is even more good-looking in person.”
You wouldn’t know—you’ve never met or bothered to Google the
guy; because in your opinion, it killed any real first impression. And if there
was any hope of you getting truly wet and turned on without lube or
finger-play, the first impression was the key.
A strong, honey-thick voice sounds from behind, greeting the
crew and expressing his excitement for the scene with Penny, who’s all squeaky
and over-enthusiastic as she speaks. You don’t turn right away, mainly due to the
fact that Tiffany is fussing with your hair and trying to perfect the false
eyelashes she glued to your lids with extra
strong eyelash-glue.
“Holy shit,” she says under her breath, eyes now
trained over your shoulder as she mindlessly fluffs your big, bouncy-curled
hair. “You lucky bitch,” she whispers to you with a devious smirk.
You only turn when someone taps on your shoulder with a
gentle finger—and fuck me when you do—you’re
met with a strong, tight-T covered chest and have to crane your neck to look up
and see a smooth, goldenly-tanned neck that trails up to an even more perfect
face. His eyes are a myriad of blues, greens, and honey gold, his nose angular
and sharp, and his lips a sweet mass of pink plushness that make your own twitch
in interest. And…fuck—
“You—You’re…large,”
you sputter stupidly as you look him up and down with wide eyes, his built,
massive body dwarfing yours significantly. Tiffany cackles behind you, but you
ignore her as you look up into the Adonis’ eyes.
“Thank you,” he nods with a low, easy laugh.
“I guess,” he adds with a raise of an eyebrow, more question in his
voice than anything. “Sam Winchester,” he greets with a dimpled grin,
holding out a hand that is ridiculously proportional to the rest of him.
“Well, Sammy—if you’d rather use my stage name.”
“Hi,” you reply, giving him a shaky smile as you
place your hand in his. “Y/N,” you supply, “but um, my stage
name’s Violet. Violet Domoore.”
“Well, Y/N,” he smirks attractively, bringing your
hand up to place a sweet, gentle kiss across the knucles before saying,
“I’ll use your real name behind the scenes. If you don’t mind, that is.”
“N-No,” you stammer moronically. “I don’t mind
at all.”
“Good,” he smiles. “Well, I should go get
ready for our scene,” he says after a long span of time where you just
stare at each other. “I hear I get to be a cutthroat business man coming
home to his wife after a long day at the office. Fake glasses and briefcase and
all.”
“Marvelous,” you grin, your confidence finally
making its appearance. “I’ll see you in a few, then?
“Absolutely,” he nods, shamelessly looking you up
and down as a seductive grin pulls at his lips. “You look incredible, by
the way.”
Before you can reply, he gracefully spins on his heels and
heads for the wardrobe and beauty station—as if the man really needs more beauty. You’re left
breathless, which is rare in your profession, because typically the guys you do
on camera are cocky, arrogant, and just all around assholes for no reason; only
interested in a wet hole to put their less than impressive cocks. Subpar, you could say. But Sam—Sam
seemed gentlemanly, and sweet, and very much concerned with a woman’s pleasure
as much as his own—if not more so—and if his hand was proportional enough to
his massive body, then the rumors about his horse-hung cock being insured for a
steamy million dollars is absolutely, one hundred percent true. And, fuck, if
you weren’t ready to see it.
Yep, you were definitely turned on.
Later on, Donovan, a seasoned porn-flick director who was
known for doing amazing scenes, asks for a moment to talk with you and Sam. So,
here you were, clad in only scanty but beautiful lingerie, stockings, and
stilettos, standing beside Sam, who’s rocking the fuck out of a full suit and
tie combo and a pair of fake glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
“So, before we get started; I just wanted to run through
the list of things that may occur and see if the two of you are cool with
it,” he says without looking up from the clipboard in his hands, running
his finger down the pages in front of him. “Okay, so Sam’s known to be a bit
dominant in scenes,” Donovan tells you in a casual voice, as if he’s discussing
toppings on a pizza rather than the sexual prowess of a man. “Are you cool
with light choking, hair pulling, spanking, and all that kind of stuff? If not,
Sam can surely tone it down a bit.”
“I’m fine with all that,” you reply, your throat
dry. “But the choking—what do you mean by light?”
“Just a hand on the throat but not nearly enough
pressure to cut off oxygen,” Sam answers for him, his voice a bit shy.
“I don’t like cutting off a girl’s ability to moan for filming purposes
and since this isn’t a real BDSM
scene. So, I just place my hand on her throat enough to give off the effect.”
“Would you like for Sam to demonstrate before we get
into filming?” Donovan asks, a warm smile on his face. “Just so you
can decide yes or absolutely not.”
“S-Sure,” you nod, glancing between Sam and Donovan
before fully turning towards Sam, chin lifted enough to expose the length your
neck. You suck in a quick pull of air when Sam brings his hand up and gently
closes it around your throat, his thumb pressing into the hinge of your jaw as
the fingers on the opposite side press in just enough to get the hint but not
cut off air, the web between his thumb and forefinger fitted to the underside
of her chin where it meets your neck.
“Does that feel okay?” Sam asks in a soft voice,
genuine concern flashing though his eyes as they look into yours for assurance.
“Do you feel comfortable with it?”
“Mhmm,” you keenly hum with a nod, since the
ability to form actual words has
suddenly escaped you and has instead translated into wetness pooling between
your thighs. “You won’t cut of my oxygen at all though, right?” You
ask in a small voice, “Because that kind of freaks me out.”
“I don’t do anything a woman doesn’t want me to,”
Sam reassures you, grinning as he caresses the hinge of our jaw with his thumb,
his hand still in place at your throat. “I only enjoy it of she’s enjoying
it as well. I try to make her pleasure the main focus of a scene, since the
targeted demographic of scenes like this are typically male. Plus, it’s always
been fun to make a girl come as much as possible during the scenes I do.”
“What’s your usual quota on that?” You smile at
him, trailing your fingers down his forearm, the soft hair there ticking your
fingertips.
Sam chuckles lightly, moving his hand down your neck to
smooth it across your shoulder, his fingers slipping under the thin strap of
your expensive push-up bra. “It’s usually three,” he answers with a
smirk, his eyes smoldering with arousal. “But for you? I’ll see if we can
well surpass that number.”
“All that just
for me?” You gush dramatically,
denying the urge to grab his face and kiss the life out of him.
“Just for you,” he agrees, leaning in to drop a
short but sweet peck to your cheek. “And my earlier comment still
stands,” he says as he steps back enough to look you up and down
shamelessly. “Although now, the word incredible seems not nearly enough now that you’re not
wearing a robe.”
“So what word would
be enough?” You question with lust in your eyes.
“Drop dead gorgeous,” Sam grins.
“That’s three words,” you grin back, a soft laugh
puffing past your lips.
“The more the better, I always say,” he winks,
giving you another dimpled grin before disappearing somewhere on set.
Then and there, you decide that if you don’t fuck Sammy
Winchester sometime in the next hour—you might just keel over from being too
horny.
It takes another forty-five painstakingly slow minutes for
the camera and light crew to finish setting up and making sure everything’s
running smoothly. Tiffany touches up your makeup and fusses with your hair a
bit more, adding some extra hairspray—even though it probably won’t last long
after you start the scene.
“Okay, super star,” Penny says as she walks up to
you. “We’re gonna do a couple test shots with you posing on the couch; so
remember—pretty and sexy, not too much, but enough.”
“Yes, ma'am,” you smile and follow her onto the
scene set, which is fashioned to look like an upscale living room decorated
with all pristine white and ivory. You settled on the white, fake-leather couch
that’s been modified enough to not make those disgusting sounds when you move
about on it, which you are immensely thankful for.
You pose for a few pictures that will be added to the website
the film will be uploaded to, which you need a paid membership for to view the
full length of. The camera man politely orders you to do various poses, some
racy and some elegant, and you can sense Sam somewhere on the sidelines
watching, a prominent smirk unmoving on his face, pants growing tighter as he
watches you work.
Penny and Donovan talk excitedly and encourages you as you
pose, making you smother a giddy smile—because you fucking love compliments and
you’re not ashamed of it. You work hard to look good, and are one of the few
female porn stars left with natural everything.
“Okay!” Donovan claps his hands and rubs his palms together.
“Let’s start shooting!” He turns towards Sam. “Sam, you’re gonna
come in a few minutes after she starts playing with herself. Just jump in when
you’re ready.“
You see Sam nod in agreement before turning his attention
back to you, giving you a big smile and a thumbs up before crossing his arms
over his chest. You smile back and then watch the guy with the clapperboard
walk on set, ready to designate the beginning of the scene. You recline back on
the couch in a relaxed pose, your legs crossed attractively with your hands
rested beside you, your fingers smoothing over the softness of the leather
beneath you.
“Everyone quite on set!” Donovan shouts, seated in
the director’s chair behind the table with various motors that display various
angles of filming. “And…action!”
“Scene one, take one!” Clapper guy calls out,
closing the clapperboard so a sharp slap!
rings out. Once he’s moved, a camera rolls in closer to you, and you give it a
show, making sure it catches all the ways you lightly touch yourself starting
at your chest, your fingers tracing all the curves and swells of your body as
you bite down into your bottom lip, your eyes trained on the camera like you
know Donovan wants.
Music usually plays over this portion of a film so Donovan
directs you a bit from behind his perch. “Good, Y/N. Now slowly trail a
hand down your body until it’s between your thighs,” he says. “Good
girl. Now spread your legs and lift your knees and give the camera those
gorgeous kitten eyes.” You do as your told, feeling sexy and confident.
“Perfect, gorgeous! Now play with yourself over your panties, then slip
your hand inside once you’re good and worked up.”
You hold back the cheeky comment of no problem, following Donovan’s instructions. You press your fingertips
into the sodden material of your thong, gasping and letting your eyes flutter
shut as you toy with your throbbing clit. After you grow tired of that, you
slowly pull your panties to the side with your free hand, using the other to
slide a single finger through your slick folds, opening yourself up for the
camera guy as he closes in on you to get an intimate close-up shot.
“Damn, girl!” Donovan calls out with a chuckle.
“That’s good! Just like that!”
You moan as you slide a finger into yourself, testing to see
how wet you really are, and you’re not surprised to find that you are
completely soaked. You tip your head back a bit, your mouth open in a soft gape
as you gently thrust your finger in and out, the sound emitting from between
your thighs entirely obscene.
There’s a camera between your legs and one in your face,
catching every little thing. You don’t startle when you feel extra weight press
in beside you—because you know it’s Sam. You slowly open your eyes to meet his
as he lays out next to you, his strong hand coming out to run up the inside of
your thigh. You give him a seductive smile as you pull your fingers out of
yourself, slyly bringing them up to his lips, and you breathe a little giggle
when he immediately drops his jaw and juts it forward to take your fingers
between his lips, his hot tongue rolling between the two to lick away the
slickness that’s coating them.
Sam hums as he sucks them clean, his hooded eyes locked on
yours, his hand slowly inching up your thigh until it’s tucked between your
thighs, taking the place of your own to rub your clit and slide through your
folds. There’s no script for this, so when Sam says, “God, you’re so
fucking wet,” out of nowhere, you moan wantonly and pull him in for a hot
kiss. You get one hand on the back of his neck as the other trails down his
body, until it’s covering the impressive bulge concealed by the borrowed slacks
he’s wearing.
“Remember to watch for hands, guys,” Donovan
reminds you, not looking away from the monitors in front of him, a proud smile on
his face when he adds, “Don’t hide the good stuff.”
You heed his reminder, pulling your hand away from Sam and
watching through hooded eyes as he moves down to the floor on his knees, his
wide shoulders holding your legs apart for the camera. “You want me to eat
your pussy?” He questions smoothly, a devilish smirk on his lips as he
easily pushes two fingers into you. You cry out at the stretch, eagerly nodding
your head as you bring your hands up to grab at the back of the couch, slipping
down a bit so your ass is hanging off the edge.
Sam presses kisses across your lower belly as he closes your
legs long enough to get your panties off, his big hands hooking under your
knees once they’re gone and opening you back up, his hungry mouth diving in
without any teasing at all. “Oh, fuck,”
you say in response, your body arching as Sam skillfully tongues at your clit,
his head teetered to the side just a bit so the camera’s got a good shot of
what he’s doing. “Oh, fuck yeah,” you moan, pulling a hand away a
from the couch to run it though his lengthy hair. “Just like that,”
you say in a breathy rasp as you watch him.
Sam’s truly enjoying himself—you can tell by the way he moans
and growls between your thighs. He has you on the cusp of a true orgasm before
you’ve even had time to think about it, his tongue reaching areas not a lot of
guys know to pay attention to. “Keep goin’, baby,” you tell him,
“I’m gonna come.”
Sam moans low in response, the vibration of it and the way he
sucks your clit making for a near-lethal combination. You use one hand to grab
up under one knee to further open yourself up, using the other to fist Sam’s
hair, moans and cries falling from your parted lip as you writhe and watch Sam
eat on you. You come hard moments later, whimpering and keening and arching
with the intensity of it, utterly lost in the rippling heat that trails behind
it.
Sam works you through it, not letting up until he’s satisfied
with the mess he’s made of you. He licks up through your folds to get a tongue
load of slick, groaning deep and happy at the taste. “Fuck yeah,
baby,” you breathe out with a lazy smile on your lips. Sam pulls away with
a similar smile, swiftly working his way back up to your mouth to pull you in
for a hungry kiss.
After a few moments of delicious making out, Donovan says,
“Alright, great work, you two! Let’s move on to the blowjob scene.“
Sam stands as you slide off the couch to kneel in front of
him, shrugging off his suit jacket and loosening the tie as your fingers work
open his belt. You look up at him through blackened lashes, a salacious grin on
your lips as you unzip and tug the slacks down to reveal a commando cock, one
that’s hard and long and thicker than you’ve ever worked with before.
“Fuck,” you say under your breath as you wrap your hand around the
girth, looking right up into Sam’s eyes when you purr, “You’re so fucking
big, Sammy.”
He smirks down at you, the hand farthest away from the
camera’s shot running through your silken locks as you lean forward to tease
the redden tip with your tongue. He moans softly as you quickly twirl around
the crown, lips parted in want as he watches you. You hum at the flavor of him,
happy with heady taste of skin that can only be described as decadent
indulgence. Your mouth waters around him when you take the first few inches
into your mouth, a happy little sound working its way up your throat as you
pull back off him with a playful pop.
Sam gives way to a long groan when you take his cock in
again, this time going until he’s nestled in your throat. You take a short
second to be proud of yourself when your nose pushes up against the thatch of
hair at the base, throat bobbing around a smothered gag. You pull back
breathless, spit-slick lips smacking as you bring a hand up to stroke the
length him, your tongue eagerly running circles around the tip to lap up the
bead of precum that appears.
Sam breathes out deeply through his nose as his big hand
wraps around yours where it’s gripping the girthy base of his cock, playfully
slapping the head against your rolled out tongue. You moan at the feeling of
the weight repeatedly meeting your wet muscle, eyes trained on his as you roll
your hips and rare your ass back against nothing but the cool air of the room.
With your hands wrapped around the front of his flexing
thighs, you suck him back into your mouth, humming when he tangles his hands in
your hair to get a good grip. He thrusts his hips forward, fucking into your
throat a couple of times before popping himself free again, letting out a
murmured fuck yeah as you pant for
him, mouth pink and open as a trail of spit falls from your swollen bottom lip.
He runs a thumb over it before allowing you to suck the finger clean, a grin
forming on his face when you playfully nibble at the end.
Sam grabs under your arm with his free hand, drawing you back
up to your feet to claim your mouth with a hungry kiss, his tongue a dominant
force when it slides between your parted lips. You strip his cock with a loose
grip for the camera, moaning into his mouth when he gets a hand between your
thighs to toy with your clit.
“Fuck me,” you breathe, swiping your tongue along
the meat of his bottom lip.
Sam grabs your hips, turning you around the face the couch
and pushing you down into it until your chest is thrown over the back of it, stocking-clad
knees spread far apart on the leather to leave you widely exposed to all eyes
in the room. You give way to a whimper full of impatience, shaking your ass and
digging your fingernails into the leather clutched in your hands. Sam presses a
knee into the couch behind you, one hand wrapped around his cock to lazily
stroke and the other coming forward to grab a handful of your ass, squeezing
the fleshiest portion before pull pulling it back again, completely surprising
you when he strikes you with a heavy, sharp slap that stings like the dickens.
“Yes, baby!” You gasp, turning to look at him over
your shoulder. He bites at his bottom lip, leaning in to nose at the space
behind your ear as he presses the head of his cock into your waiting pussy, a
hot gush of air leaving his mouth as he paces himself, slowly slipping all the
way inside until his hips are flush with your ass.
“Well damn,” Donovan says to Penny in a low voice
behind the scenes, a look of pride on his face as he watches the monitors in
front of him. “I guess there’s no need for a director after all.“
“They’re seasoned vets, Don,” Penny chuckles,
“Just enjoy the show and watch the magic happen."
Back on set, Sam’s started up a steady pace that has you
rolling your ass back against him to chase the pleasure that runs hot through
your blood, breathy moans leaving your open mouth. He’s got one hand wrapped
around the back of your neck and the other on your hip, effectively holding you
in place as he delivers thrust after mind-numbing thrust of his impossibly
talented hips. There’s a few cameras closer around you now, getting different
angles and perspectives; his cock entering and leaving your weeping cunt, his
face as he looks down to watch himself disappear, and yours as you take it all.
He’s hitting all the right spots, spots that only few and far
between can hit with their cocks. The quickness in which your second orgasm approaches
has your thighs trembling, the nonsensical sounds falling from your mouth
growing louder and more frequent. It feel so freeing, getting fucked so good
that you’ll more than likely feel it in the morning; in the form of sore thighs
and a tender, totally cock-happy cunt.
You come hard, rearing back into Sam, frantically chasing the
waves crashing around inside your body. You scream expletives, reaching back to
get a hand in his hair and pulling so roughly that Sam has to bite down onto
your shoulder to mask that pained groan that vibrates in his throat. Usually
that would be a no-no, but you’re so lost in bliss that the feel of his teeth sinking
into your flesh has your orgasm lasting a bit longer, and you simply can’t be
bothered to give a damn if it leaves a nasty mark.
You’re left in a total haze when Sam pulls out and takes a
seat beside you, limbs feeling heavy as you quickly climb into his lap, so
needy for more of him as you sink back down onto his still-hard cock. You press
your hands against his chest and rock your hips, looking down into his eyes,
the inky blackness of his pupils totally eclipsing the bright pools of hazel
surrounding them. He looks back just as intensely, totally debauched and
hungry, hands like vices on your hip and ass as you move above him with
purpose.
You gasp sharply when he gets a hand on your chest, roughly
tugging down each cup of delicate lace covering your breasts one after the
other. You ignore the little rips of fabric you hear as he does, too enthralled
by the way he gets his mouth around one of your peaked nipples, sucking and
nibbling, worshipping your chest in every sense of the word. Everything feels
so good, so heightened, that number three won’t be any sort of a challenge. Not
with the way Sam feels inside you and how well your clit rubs against the
coarse hair at that base of his cock with every down stroke of your hips.
This is the moment you love; when you forget all about the
cameras and lights and extra bodies around you. When it’s just you and the
person you’re shooting with. It’s just you and Sam, lost in the thick of
pleasure and carnal desire, so focused on each other that it doesn’t even feel
like you’re the stars of a porno, or that there are millions of people around
the world who are going to watch this very moment. It’s the moment in the biz
that you crave, that rare moment that makes taking your clothes off and fucking
people on camera worth it.
When Sam grabs your ass and forces you to still your hips,
whatever moan of loss is lost on your lips when he starts pounding up into you.
You press your hands back on his wide-spread knees, letting your head fall back
as your body arches so beautifully above him. Sam’s cursing colorfully through
clenched teeth, running a hand up the curvature of your torso until he’s
pinching at one of your nipples so tightly your hips jerk through the pained
pleasure that comes along with it. And once he moves down to thumb at your
buzzing clit—you’re a goner—hips
jerking for another reason entirely as your eyes cross in their sockets.
"Fuck yeah, baby,” Sam murmurs as he watches you
come undone, “Come all over my fucking cock. Yes. Just like that. That’s
a good girl."
"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” you chant, falling forward onto his chest and pressing
your forehead against his, nose smooshed right up along his, fingers shaky were
they card through his hair as you breathe erratically against his mouth through
slack-fallen lips. You’re still coming when Sam wraps his arms around your
waist and gets you down onto your back, cock still pounding away inside you as
you lay out and take it, so high and come-drunk that you’re not even sure if
the words of praise leaving your mouth make sense.
“Can’t s-stop coming,” you hear yourself say in a
quiet rasp, looking up at Sam as a sob of pleasure leaves you. He growls in
pleasure, placing a hand around your throat and devouring your mouth in a
filthy, uncoordinated kiss. All the pleasure just melds together, leaving you
clueless as to whether you’re having one long orgasm, or just a bunch of little
ones right after the other.
All you know it that you’re breathless and getting fucked
better than you ever have before.
Sam’s powerful body moves so skillfully above you, long hair
curling at the ends from how much he’s sweating. Heat rolls off him in waves,
covering you in warmth and your own sheen a sweat, skin glistening in the film
lights surrounding you. Sam keeps his eyes on yours, unhindered lust so
intensely evident in his gaze. His breathing gets deeper, rougher, and you know
he’s close, waiting for the right moment to give the camera-worthy pop shot
every director dreams of.
“Give it to me, baby,” you say to him, low enough
for only him to hear, such intimacy in your voice—the kind that can’t be faked.
“Fucking come for me, please,”
you plead, your hands on either side of his face, lips just barely
brushing against his. “C'mon, Sammy,” you gasp, “Cover me in
that big load, baby.”
“Fuck!” Sam roars, moaning so vehemently for you,
hips pounding towards his long awaited release. He soon brings them to a screeching
halt when he pulses with warning inside you, pulling out with just enough time
to strip his cock a few times before decorating your pussy, belly, and tits in
thick, milky-white strings of come that are warm on your sweat-slick skin.
You moan through a prideful smile, rubbing at your clit where
his spunk covered it like a trophy after a big win. You press a few Sam-soaked
fingers into your stretched pussy, giving the camera that’s traveling down the
length of your torso a nice view. You hum a happy noise as you trail your free
hand up your belly and through the space between your breasts, collecting some
come on your fingers and sliding them into your mouth, smirking around the
digits as you look into the camera zoned in on your face. You don’t care that
your hair’s a mess or that your mascara is smudged from where a few tears of
ecstasy had earlier fallen. All you care about is the ache between your thighs
and the way Sam watches you play with his come, all panting breath and dimpled
grin of satisfaction as he sits back on the couch like he just ran a marathon.
You give the camera a playful wink and a blow it a kiss—your
signature move.
“And cut!” Donovan shouts as he steps onto set clapping.
“And that, my friends, is how it’s fucking done.” He gives the camera
guys pats on the back and talks excitedly about the scene. Pure gold is what you’re sure he says, but you’re too exhausted to
really care.
Penny and Tiffany jog onto set with towels, water, and your
robe. “Let me,” Sam gives Tiffany a sweet smile as he grabs a towel
from her hands. He gets to his knees and hovers over you, gently dragging the
soft fabric over your skin where his come has started to go cold and tacky. You
start laughing for whatever reason, a slew of uncontrollable giggles that can’t
be explained. Sam just shakes his head and chuckles as he continues to clean
you up.
“I think I broke her,” he jokes with Penny.
“She’s just extremely come-drunk,” Penny explains
as she hands Sam your robe. “She’ll be fine once we get some water and
pizza in her system."
"Pepperoni,” you murmur as you sit up with a goofy
grin, arms moving like rubber as Sam helps you into the robe. “Extra
cheese, please."
"Aaaand you’re rhyming,” Penny chuckles.
“C'mon, Miss Doomore,” she says as she helps you stand on wobbly
legs. “Let’s get you in a nice, hot
bath while I order your pizza."
"Can Sam come, too?” You giggle, “He deserves
it after that fuck-a-thon.”
Sam wraps the extra towel Tiffany gives him around his waist.
“I think I’ll let you come down first,” he laughs, placing a hand on
your lower back and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “Go get cleaned
up,” he says in a quiet voice, “I’ll be here when you get done."
You nod and let Penny drag you away towards the bathroom,
Tiffany following behind with way to many makeup wipes.
”Bitch,“
Tiffany gushes as you strip naked and get into the jacuzzi tub, "I think
that was your best scene yet! If you
don’t win an AVN for that, I’m boycotting."
"Thanks, Tiff,” you chuckle as you let yourself
sink down into the hot water, your already-sore muscles singing with gratitude.
“Dude, Sam’s a fucking monster,” you giggle, “My poor vagina is humming right now."
"Ugh!” Tiffany glowers as she works to get your
ruined makeup off. “Quit rubbing it in my face,” she grins. “I wish I could fuck the caliber of dudes
you get to work with.”
“Easy,” you shrug with a lazy smile, “Just
become a porn star."