One Take Only

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  “Scare,” one guy replied. “I was just coming to terms with finding guys sexy for fuck’s sake. I searched the internet and found gay porn. I was in this weird mix of being turned on and terrified that I’d need to be as good as them the first time and they were really going for it. Almost violently.”

  “It’s daunting,” one guy added. “Obviously, porn is going to be good. They’re not going to show two guys who don’t know what they’re doing but…yeah. I was intimidated.”

  “What intimidated you the most?”

  “Oral sex, anal sex, knowing what would feel good, not wanting to do anything wrong.”

  “I watched porn that showed a gang bang. I was horrified but couldn’t look away,” a guy laughed. “It does make you think about relationships and what’s expected.”

  “So, it made you think sex was like that? Multiple partners, violence, being made to do something you don’t want to?” Skye asked.

  “I’ve had sex where it was nothing like I’d watched in porn,” another guy said. “It was loving and…nice, and I think you know the difference when you have that experience.”

  “What if you’re a young person who doesn’t have sexual experiences but is interested in exploring sex and, therefore, is inevitably led to porn? Would that skew your view?”

  “I think so, yeah. There’s some hardcore shit out there that anyone can access at any time. It fucks you up.”

  “Have you found porn that is more reflective of what sex is like in a relationship?” Skye asked. I turned my back, busied myself and took the opportunity to adjust my throbbing cock. Skye and sex talk. This had never happened before and my dick was taking notice.

  “It’s out there, but the hardcore stuff is more popular.”

  “It’s the first thing you see when you search.”

  “Interesting,” she replied thoughtfully.

  “You’re led down a porn rabbit hole.”

  “Thanks guys, that’s been helpful,” Skye said, tapping the pen to her lips. I was having a hard time taming my hard-on and I didn’t need a group of teenagers noticing my bulge. I picked up one of the boxes and sat down with it on my lap as the guys left. Skye had an arched eyebrow that only meant one thing. She was scheming.

  “What?” I asked, ignoring how beautiful she looked when she was cooking up a plan.

  “I want to make a porn film,” she replied and hell, this wasn’t helping my situation.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I want to make a porn film…one that shows the reality and normality of sex but is still sexy as fuck.” She shook off her leather jacket and the corset from my wet dream came into full view. Lacy and see-through, her skin peeking out, just enough and not enough all at the same time. The cup hugged her breasts, creamy skin adjusting as she breathed, jiggling as she laughed. Animated breasts were not helping my situation. I was feeling panicked now, sexual excitement was on a journey through my veins, I was about to burst, a feeling of what the fuck do I do now vibrated along the back of my neck.

  “Skye-”

  “Don’t talk me out it, Will,” she replied and before I could say, Actually, I think it’s a great idea. You and me on the table. I’ll set up my phone in the corner and set record, let’s go! she got up and placed her hands on my shoulders. The room went black at this point, spinning. Her boobs were nearer eye level and I was sure I could make out a nipple. “I’m going to make a porn film and you, my friend, are going to help me.”

  Oxygen was heading south but my head was slowly catching up with her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re a photographer, right?”

  “Technically I’m a journalist who works for a photography magazine–”

  “What I mean is, you have experience,” she said.

  “In what?”

  “Will!” she shouted.

  I blew out a breath. “I don’t have any kind of experience here, Skye! I started writing for a local paper. I wasn’t filming porn scenes; I was taking photos of the best Victoria sponge in the village fete or an image of Jesus who’d appeared on the wall as part of a weird damp stain or…the winner of the largest root vegetable!”

  Skye started laughing. “See, transferable skills…”

  I stood up knocking the box to the floor. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I want to make a porn film to be the beacon of what porn directors should aspire to.” She was never one to approach a challenge half-arsed. “Loving, consensual sex that doesn’t frighten young people. Nice. Safe. Sensual. Sexy. The kind of film that will win awards for realism, but at the same time will be a fucking turn-on to end all turn-ons!” I tried to speak, but a high-pitched gasp came out. Also known as I’m-so-horny-I’ve-lost-my-ability-to-speak voice. Skye was on a mission now, her beautiful smile was broad, her eyes where sparkling and I wondered if I’d lost my fucking mind.

  “Grab the lube and condoms!” she shouted. “We’re off to write a porno!”

  4

  Will

  “Stacey must have gone to bed,” Skye whispered as she turned on the light in the living room.

  “I’m sure she’ll be devastated to miss out on creating a storyboard for a freaking porn film.”

  “Be quiet,” she replied. “Don’t play into the stereotype that all porn has to be filthy and disgusting.”

  “Isn’t that the whole point of porn?” I asked.

  “Not my porn.”

  “Listen to yourself, Skye. You’re not Ron Howard for Christ’s sake!”

  “Ron Jeremy, you plonker. Ron Howard is Richie from fucking Happy Days.” All said with a smirk on her face. Christ, she was beautiful. “Although, this porn is going to be as good as a Ron Howard film.”

  “Oh, no. We’re not going for film parodies, are we? I’m not sure how to create a catchy porn pun with The Da Vinci Code.” I held my finger to my chin in thought as she shook her head. “The Punini Code?”

  “Let’s keep the jokes to a minimum, shall we?” she replied as I sat back on the sofa. This had been my bed for the night on many occasions. Sleepless nights mainly, as I made a mental list of reasons why I shouldn’t make my way down to Skye’s room. “Maybe we could ask Matt if he knows anyone who would be interested in being in a porn film?”

  “He’s a male escort, Skye. I don’t think that means he knows everyone in the sex industry.”

  “It’s worth noting.”

  I shot up, amused and bewildered. Normal reactions when Skye was around. “This is complete madness!”

  “Are you going to help me or not?” There was no need to answer that, of course I was going to help her. It catered to every one of my needs. I loved porn and I loved Skye. This bonkers idea allowed me to spend more time with her. I chose not to think about how ridiculous it was and decided to go along with it in the hope she would see sense before getting to the stage of auditioning porn stars.

  I took a deep breath and faked annoyance. “So, what is it to be? Ladyporn? Vases of flowers in the background. Tasteful décor?”

  “No,” she replied. “We want either gender to enjoy it and stop taking the piss.”

  “Ah, OK. Let me make a note of this. Gender fluid.”

  “Ooh! Transgender?”

  “You’re doing one shoot, Skye. We can’t cater to the porn massive. We need to decide our niche and run with it.” She gave me a blank look that soon turned into confusion. “Ladyporn it is then.”

  “No!” she whisper-shouted. “Give me some tropes.”

  “Tropes? Porn doesn’t usually have much of a storyline,” I replied. “How about something bawdy? Milkman waits in the bushes until the husband has gone to work and he can get his leg over.”

  “Not helping,” she replied. “This isn’t the 1970s.”

  “I was hoping to add porn moustache and flares to the storyboard.” She completely ignored me.

  “What if we market it as nice porn?” she asked.

  “You mean mum’s–best–mate–primary�
��school–teacher–bible–study–group porn?”

  She lifted her eyebrows and continued. “Women who want something enjoyable.”

  “All porn is enjoyable,” I replied.

  “Trust me, it isn’t.” I glazed over for a second, wondering what Skye would consider enjoyable. “I’ve got it!” She stood up and her breasts jiggled in that corset again. I could feel the rush of blood through my body. A high point. A hard-on. Christ, this harebrained idea of hers was going to be extremely uncomfortable for my nether regions. “Romanceography.” She said it like it was a secret with jazz hand accompaniment. She waited for my response, but I was confused, amused…majorly turned on.

  “What…is that?”

  “Pornography gives the wrong message…throws up the wrong images. Ick,” she shivered. “Romanceography gives a different feel, don’t you think?”

  “It doesn’t make any sense, Skye, but neither does making a porn film.”

  She opened the laptop Stacey had left on the coffee table and put it on my knees. “Search for porn,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “What?”

  “Show me what you enjoy. Imagine you’re home alone and horny. What would you search for?”

  “Skye–” She opened her mouth slightly, took a shaky breath. Her mouth. Fuck, I wanted to touch it, tell her I could watch her forever, admit that I always would.

  “Show me,” she replied, her breath catching. I watched as she bit her lip, wondered if she knew how vulnerable she looked, how willing, but that couldn’t be true. My mind was playing tricks, inflated by the tension in the air, the heat. “What do you…like?” You, Skye. Just you. I kept eye contact, lifted the corner of my mouth. Met her head on. What game was she playing?

  No game, dickwad. She likes tatted bikers. I was wearing a Superman t-shirt under my sweater. Classic Clark Kent.

  I started typing and slid the laptop back to her. She gave a breathy laugh. Any type of porn. She sighed, dropped her eyes. “You’re easily pleased.” Drumming her fingers against the touch pad, she put it back on my knees. “Try again, Will.”

  She watched me carefully, her fingers against her mouth, a definite smirk. She looked so beautiful, so Skye. Her pink hair had settled over her left shoulder, curls and softness that I wanted to feel against my chest, my skin. I took a deep breath and started to type, laughing as she smiled at my awkwardness. “Here.” I put the laptop back on the coffee table and covered my mouth as the film started to play.

  “I should have known,” she said. “Harley Quinn and the Joker.”

  “It’s been known to be a favourite of mine.”

  “Is it the little shorts that do it for you? The hair in bunches? The baseball bat that she could club you to death with?”

  “Just wait and see what she does with the baseball bat,” I replied, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “Oh, holy fuck.” She grimaced, her eyes shielded, but I knew she was peeking through. “He’s really rough with her boobs. He just grabbed them without asking if she was fine with that. She has this look of surprise but keeps letting him do it.” She pointed two fingers to her mouth in an I’m going to puke motion. “That’s sexual assault right there, Will.”

  “Not a fan of the boob grabbing,” I replied. “Got it.”

  “I’m a fan of consent,” she said.

  “Maybe we missed the dialogue,” I mumbled as I turned up the sound.

  “Oh my God, now Batman’s arrived.” Skye sat forward and glanced at me. “You like threesomes?”

  “I’ve been partial to an extra body.”

  “You dark horse,” she said, laughing. Was it getting hot? My clothes were getting too tight, my head light. “Oh, no. He doesn’t really care where he’s sticking it, does he? Give me a hole, any hole.”

  “Christ.” I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable around my huge erection. No easy task. What the hell were we doing?

  “How many dicks now? Three? Oh no, still two. I’ve lost count.” She sighed. “Why can’t porn be intelligent?”

  “I don’t think that’s the idea,” I replied. “We’re not solving maths equations between each thrust.”

  “Let’s look at the top trending porn searches.” She started typing, opening a new window as moans continued. “Oh, crap.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s at the top?” She pushed the laptop to me.

  Rape. Stepfather and daughter. Young. Schoolgirl.

  “Oh God,” I replied. “Everyone really does have a preference, don’t they? Porn caters for all.”

  “I’m not against porn. I’m just saying that some of it is damaging and confusing.”

  “And illegal.”

  “That isn’t what sex is.”

  I closed all browsers apart from my favourite porn scene. Skye returned her eyes to the screen and started smiling. “So, this is your thing, is it?”

  I raised an eyebrow and nodded.

  Batman was going for it. The Joker was making happy sounds. Harley Quinn was fucking filthy.

  “This is…insane.”

  “Pretty good, isn’t it?” I replied.

  “Oh, no.” She stood up. “Oh, please no! Argh! Batman and the Joker are enemies!” she shouted, holding her hands over the screen. “Don’t taint everything I’ve believed my whole life by sucking him off!”

  I couldn’t take it anymore I dived on the laptop and closed it quickly.

  “What?” she laughed.

  “Don’t take the piss,” I replied. “I thought you were taking this seriously?”

  “How can I take it seriously? Batman is moaning in that weird Christian Bale tone. He sounds like he’s having an asthma attack.”

  I picked up the laptop and handed it to her. “Go on then. Show me your preference. What do you search for when you’re in need of–” I stopped myself. Swallowed harshly and averted my eyes from her pretty blue ones.

  “It depends on what mood I’m in,” she replied with a shrug. “How dirty I want to be.”

  Don’t go there, Will.

  I looked up to the ceiling, pursed my lips, screwed up my face. It was no good. I couldn’t help myself. “Imagine your…dirtiness at its height.” She clutched her neck, her fingers making imprints into the soft skin of her throat. She took a breath and pulled her shoulders back. Was she watching my mouth?

  “I…erm…have a…go to.”

  “Saved to your favourites?” I mumbled.

  “There’s one I like and it…always gets me off,” she replied.

  “What is it?” I didn’t recognise my voice. It was a mixture of gruff and whisper.

  She placed her finger to her lips and closed her eyes. “We’re supposed to be planning a porn film, not getting distracted by ones we like.”

  “It’s a good place to start. Especially if you’re not sure what road you want to take.”

  “I know what I want,” she replied, opening her eyes. “I want kissing…lots of it. Neck kisses. Hand grabbing, fingers curling together and being pushed into the pillow on the first thrust.”

  “Right.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, moving closer. Her skirt, with layers and lace covered my thigh. I wanted to rip it from her, expose the corset, tell me the answer to the question I’d been thinking about all night. Do her panties match? “I want lingering looks. Can’t-get-enough-of-each-other sexual eye contact.”

  “OK.” A breath escaped and the sound left my mouth without me realising.

  “I want hair pulling. Body worshipping.”

  “Vital,” I replied. “All…of it.”

  “I want reality. Curves and handfuls and full pubes. Slurps and squelches and wet patches.” Fuck. Wet patches never sounded so good. She trailed her hand from her throat to the middle of her breasts, those gorgeous, jiggling breasts threatening to spill out at any moment. Finally, she rested her hand on her stomach. I watched her fingers splay out across the lace. I thought about sucking one of those fingers, putting it in my mouth and feasting on it like I was devouring her puss
y. “Love, Will. I want love.”

  “Love?” Another breath. A word on a sigh. I’d lost the function. Unable to speak.

  “I want something to aspire to. I want connection. I want fingers digging into flesh. I want beauty. Full beauty. Gasps and growls and bites and–”

  Jesus, I needed an orgasm. Or a cold shower.

  Mainly an orgasm.

  “Have you ever been in love, Will?” she asked, her chest rising and falling like it was hard work and she had to put in effort just to steal some air. Her eyes caught the soft light from the lamp on the table. She looked like the softer version of Skye, the one I’d seen on very few occasions. The vulnerable and open Skye. The one I knew was her most honest version, the one who would tell you her deepest secrets without a second thought.

  A bright light illuminated the room. I held my arm across my eyes – a reaction to being in the dark too long.

  “What are you doing?” A flash of red hair appeared at the doorway. “Don’t you guys need sleep to function in the morning?” Stacey asked.

  “Stacey Clifton, I’m guessing that you don’t have a fit male escort in your bed, otherwise you’d be wrapped around him and not bothering us,” Skye said as she stood up and put her arms around her.

  “You know how I feel,” Stacey replied. “I really like him, but I can’t handle him sleeping with other women.”

  “Hazard of the job,” Skye shrugged as she glanced at me. I stayed still on the sofa in exactly the same position she’d left me in, still imagining ripping the skirt away from her hips.

  “Are you staying tonight, Will?” Stacey asked. I nodded, trancelike, as Skye gently pushed Stacey back towards her bedroom.

  “We’ll talk in the morning,” I heard Skye say to her before she came back to the doorway and threw me a blanket and pillow. “Night,” she said. “Oh, and Will? Just so you know, my porn go to is Superman and Lois Lane.” She smiled before turning off the light and leaving me with my hand pressed to my chest thinking about the Superman t-shirt I had on under my sweater, wondering if it was a sign.