She Writes Back
Page 1
As I stared at my phone, I couldn't really believe what I was seeing. She'd replied back. I felt a rush of adrenaline flash across my body. It was stupid to get excited about such things. It was just a single line of text. Still, I couldn't stop staring at it.
"Thanks, that's sweet of you."
What could I write back? What would be a good line? Why did I think this was anything other than a simple canned response to potential stalkers?
How do you impress a pornstar through instant messaging?
Granted, she's just a girl in the end, a regular woman with feelings that can be hurt and who finds joy in the little things and just like every one of us, would like to find someone who cares.
It's easy to forget that pornstars have feelings too. When you see them get reamed by a huge cock from behind while they're jerking off two other dicks and catching a cumshot on her face, they take on a sort of inhuman quality. How can a normal woman do this? How can she subject herself to it? Why can't I stop masturbating while watching her get "around-the-world"-ed by four guys?
Let me give you some background info on me.
46, married (if you can call it that), with a kid in college and a middle management job at a marketing firm. I do local, crappy commercials for small businesses, mostly. I was in the fast lane once, years ago, but I was too much of a pussy to take a risk and go for my dream position, so here I am, fifteen years later with no real enjoyment in life other than surfing for porn every night.
My wife of twenty-two years lies in bed every night next to me in our king size bed, the two feet separating us might as well have been the grand canyon. A tangible, cesspool-like cloud of bitterness at her lost youth, her non-existent career and all the things that went wrong in her life, starting with me.
We haven't had sex in eight months. Before that it had been six months. Each of those times had coincided with run-ins with old friends. I guess that she was afraid of taking that last step and cheating on me, so she closed her eyes and suffered through seven minutes of uncomfortable grunting until my wad was spent. The long sigh that came at the end slicing through my soul. Another disappointment.
There really isn't anything worth expanding upon here, leave it at that. It just is. No excitement, no hope, nothing to look forward to. I'm alive because I haven't died.
The one thing I do for fun is look at porn. Recently I got into photo apps on my smartphone (talk about something I wish had existed when I was growing up, porn right there at your fingertips at any moment). I never send pictures, of course. What would I be sending? a skinny little cock, underneath my paunch?
No, thankfully there are enough hot girls out there who populate their public profiles with enough skin to keep anyone happy. I have several apps on my phone for browsing hot girls, I don't even feel the need to keep them hidden or anything, it's not like my wife's remotely interested in anything I do.
So yes, I've researched and found hundreds of accounts where beautiful girls constantly give us peeks into their private lives, aside from what we see them doing on camera. Getting coffee, running, playing with their pets, goofing around. It's like having a hundred fantasy girlfriends that you learn about, whose little quirks you get to see.
It's inevitable that you fall for them.
You can see a hot girl taking dick often enough that you'll become de-sensitized to it, actually think she looks strange without a dick in her mouth, but seeing that same girl then post her reactions after the shoot. How tired she is. How she hopes people like it. See her stick her tongue out at the camera and give a cheeky grin.
This is more than a slut who likes to fuck. This is a nice girl, underneath all that makeup, saliva and cum. She likes to do yoga. She loves green tea. She is a fan of classic rock. She cries during sad movies. She's... beautiful.
There's this one girl, let's call her Kayla. She's an amateur who's been in the business for about a year or two. Very sexy long legs that rise up to a narrow waist with a tight abdomen that show off the hints of her abs as she tightens her belly, swinging her hips as she rides her boyfriend's dick. She got her tits done, but didn't go overboard. They look great on her and were obviously done with care as they bounce wonderfully, even though the tops of them give away their silicone-ness. She's got dirty blonde hair that falls halfway down her back and a sleeve tattoo of a koi fish on her left arm.
She has gorgeous green eyes that she looks into the camera through as she wraps her luscious plump lips around her guy's cock. High cheekbones and an oval face pull the look together. She looks a lot like a slimmer Scarlett Johansson, if I had to pick, with a dash of Charlize Theron. She's a fucking stunner, and I've been following her career closely.
She started doing solo picture sets, softcore, before delving into masturbation scenes in the shower. One of my favourite videos of her is where she's standing in her shower while her partner films from outside. She's using a great big purple dildo that sticks with a suction cup to the glass shower wall. She's bending over and teases us with glimpses of her shaved pussy, small and pink lips glistening as she rubs the head of the dick and prods her folds open with it. She spends two minutes just slowly working the dildo inside her, in and out, in and out, while she moans.
I've already cum at this point, of course.
In the end, her own boyfriend can't take it and climbs into the shower with her. She's initially surprised, and you can see on the tape that it wasn't part of the script, but she rolls with it. We get a point of view of the guy pushing his shorts down to expose an impressive member. Kayla hesitates for another second, looking at the camera before smiling impishly, one corner of her lips turning up in a coy smile as she reaches out to start stroking the cock.
She becomes emboldened, and opens her mouth, drooling over it and touching the tip of her tongue to the head. The cameraman shudders as her tongue encircles the head of his dick and she turns her head so the camera catches the bulge in her cheeks as she slips her mouth over the erect cock.
The guy's moan matches my own. I just came again.
Kayla makes wet slurping noises as she bobs her head up and down on his shaft, her hand timed perfectly to continue the stroke of her wet lips and tongue. She's bouncing against the dildo now, and the camera pans wide to give us an amazing picture of her underneath the steamy spray of water. Her naked back arches as she drives her ass against the wall, the purple dildo disappearing between her cheeks, as she holds on to one leg and uses the other hand to stroke the big dick into her mouth.
She's groaning with pleasure now, mumbling around the dick in her mouth. She shudders and we see her body quake. She's cumming. She cries out gutturaly, a wet cry as her hips spasm. Just then the cameraman starts spewing his load into her mouth. Her eyes widen as her throat is coated with his seed. White, milky cum begins to dribble down her chin as she continues to bob her head over the dick as she comes down from her orgasm.
Slowly she takes the dick out of her mouth, a long string of pearlescent cum extending from her lips to the head of the penis. She looks up at the camera. She runs a finger across her chin and sticks it in her mouth, slurping up the cum. She smiles.
A star is born.
Within a few months, she's under contract with a high profile porn studio. She's become the new girl next door that everyone jerks off to. She wins an award for best new pornstar. She has a million followers in her social media accounts. Her star continues to rise and rise.
Her instant messaging account paints a different picture, though.
At first, she only did scenes with her boyfriend, a douchy-looking frat bro who called her 'babe' on camera all the time and really got on my nerves. When she went mainstream, she had to perform with more famous dicks, of course, and apparently frat bro wasn't too happy.
> In a series of heartbreaking snaps, she related how he'd broken it off with her, calling her a slut, whore, no-good bitch. She was crying in her tub, drunk and high, apparently. I listened with rapt admiration of this vulnerable, fragile young woman as she poured her heart out.
She had loved him. She had only agreed to that contract because he'd pushed her into for the money, she would've been happy to remain an amateur pornographer with him, but he saw dollar signs. Then when he found out he wouldn't be the one doing the scenes with her, he got pissed. Things had escalated from there. She'd tried to back out of her contract and had been told in no uncertain terms that she'd be done in the industry if she went back on her word.
Still, she was ready to go through all of that, for him. In the end, her douche-friend had left her. She spent days recording video messages that were like engrossing journals, showing in the process how little she thought of herself. It was heartbreaking.
So I sent her a message.
"Hang in there
She didn't respond, of course. Not then. She must've been inundated with messages from her million followers. Still, it made me feel better to think she might've seen my message amongst all the others and drawn some strength to pull herself together.
She got better, she dove headfirst into her work and did dozens of scenes in the following year, making hundreds of thousands of dollars (probably) and became porn's 'it' girl. She did it all. Oral, anal, gang-bang and domination play. She did xxx movie parodies and had cameos in raunchy main stream feature films. She dated an nfl player. She did a 'zero-gravity' sex scene in one of those planes that go up to the stratosphere. She licensed replicas of herself as a doll and also of her pussy, ass and mouth masturbation toys.
Eventually, she became too popular and the fickle public started clamoring for the next hot thing. She started doing only lesbian scenes, claiming that guys didn't interest her as much anymore. She focused her attention on customized videos and her website. All through this time, she'd kept using her instant photo app as a diary. She posted every day, multiple times a day.
It got to the point where I knew more about what she did during her day than I did about what my wife did, and I didn't care. Kayla was funny, smart and goofy. She liked a lot of the things I did, and on her more serious snaps, her rants were actually quite insightful, from politics to debating what to name her new puppy.
It was the dog that got me an answer.
It was late at night and I was checking out the app before I went to sleep when I saw a video had just been posted by her. In the short clip, Kayla was holding up a cute little husky puppy up to the camera and asking "What should I name her?"
I had no idea, but I replied: "It'll have to be a gorgeous name to go with her gorgeous mommy."
I was looking at the video again when I saw that she replied. I couldn't believe it.
"Thanks, that's sweet of you."
I didn't know what to do. I had to reply again, I couldn't miss this chance but it's so difficult to not come off as a creepy stalkery type.
"I'd really have to get to know her before I could name her." I dumbly replied.
I expected the worst, but after a few seconds, she replied again.
"LOL, nice line. XOXO."
I blew it. She was making fun of my feeble attempt at engaging her. Still, the XOXO was nice. Even if it was most likely just reflex to messages to fans.
My phone dinged again.
Kayla had sent a picture of herself blowing a kiss into the camera.
"Thanks to @replicant_71 for making me smile. I'm naming her Pris in honor of you. XOXOXO"
Wow. Just... wow.
Kayla didn't just enjoy what I'd said, but she'd understood the username reference from Blade Runner and used it. She was beautiful in the picture, too. She was lying on her side with the camera angle catching her long hair as it crashed across her midriff, a short, tight green sports bra struggling to keep her breasts contained. Her toned stomach was glistening with sweat from what must've been a late night workout.
She wasn't wearing any make up but that only seemed to enhance her natural gorgeousness. Her lips were puckered and moist and her long lashes framed her half-lidded eyes sexily. My cock got hard just thinking that for this moment, this second, her attention was focused on me.
I debated whether to respond again. Could it be too much of a good thing? too high of expectations to keep her talking to me? This was, after all, a 22 year old, world famous pornstar. Still. I'd hate myself more if I didn't try.
"It gives an old man hope when a beautiful young woman enjoys the classics."
I cringed. Ugh. I shouldn't have refereed to myself as 'old man' that just sounds creepy.
DING.
Another picture of Kayla, standing in front of what was clearly a memorabilia counter full of old classic toys, books, posters and old VHS tapes. She was holding an old, tattered copy of "Do androids dream of electric sheep?".
"Classics are often the best of most things. What's that saying about the devil?"
I was flabbergasted, but before I could think too much about it I replied.
"The devil knows more from being old than from being the devil.
DING. Seconds later. I couldn't believe I was actually talking to her. This time Kayla was pointing to an old Iron Maiden poster. She was making the metal sign.
"YES. @replicant_71. You're my kind of guy. XOXOXOXO"
I couldn't stop. I was hard and excited.
"So, you a Paul or a Bruce fan?"
DING. Kayla was leaning back against the poster lazily, one hand inside her shorts, her tongue flicking out to touch Eddie's thigh.
"LOL, well there's a little issue there, seeing as I've already sucked Bruce's cock one time on his airplane."
Holy shit. I didn't know what to say.
"Argh... how can a guy compete?
DING. Kayla was looking into the camera with a smirk on her face. Behind her back, almost hidden, her other hand was holding her thumb and forefinger about two inches apart.
"You'd be surprised at how little that matters to me."
That was certainly more information than I needed, but it emboldened me.
"So with enough enthusiasm, a regular joe stands a chance?"
A few minutes without reply made me sure that the exchange was over. She'd gotten bored, or had found something better to do.
DING. Kayla was in a towel in her bathroom, that I'd seen a million times by now through her videos. She was drawing a bath and smiling sexily into the camera.
"I'll take enthusiasm and joy to be with me any day. Bath time. XOXOXO. Dream naughty things about me."
No doubt of THAT. I counted my blessings when I realized that I actually did pretty well there, considering I was talking to a hot 22 year old who could be my daughter. I sort of held my own there, for a bit.
I jerked off furiously, of course. And did indeed have filthy, naughty dreams about her.
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The next morning I was sure it had been a dream. One bad thing about the photo app was that it deleted all the pictures, and if you screenshot them the person would know.
Normally I wouldn't care, of course. I'm an insignificant gnat, usually. But last night had felt personal. I had honestly not even thought about saving the pictures, and now they were only in my mind. Kayla talking to me.
I know, she was just chatting up a fan, in a nice way, being pretty cool about it, but it wasn't anything special. She probably does that every day to a different one. It had just felt like a real connection. There wasn't anything there.