by Tiana Laveen
“He’s incarcerated, and I doubt he’s ever getting out. My boyfriend sold narcotics to take care of his daughter and me. He was putting me through school and paying the bills. It wasn’t the best lifestyle, but it was supposed to be temporary. He didn’t want to do it, but ever since he got a record for something he didn’t do and lost a decent job at the bank, no one would hire him. It was pretty much downhill from there.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Monica. Even though it doesn’t help your situation in all aspects, please know that if you’re extended a job offer and you accept, money would no longer be an issue for you.” Lisa and Sheila consulted one another briefly in whispers, then Lisa took over questioning.
“Monica, I want to give you some more information regarding our company and what we’d expect from you as an employee. We started in 2001. We’ve been the number one website since 2003 for what we like to call ‘wholesome pornography.’ We even have ministers refer couples to us for counseling. Every actor that you interact with, you’d be able to talk to first and get to know. I need to know what you refuse to do, what we need to teach, and how we can help. What sexual acts do you feel are off-limits if you were to gain employment with us?” Monica looked into her clasped hands. Her body heat was growing. She took a sip of her water.
“I don’t want to do anal. Also, no offense, I don’t want to have sex with a woman.”
“None taken. Is there anything else?” Lisa asked with a grin.
“Um – no gangbangs or fisting.”
“No worries. We don’t cater to that audience. I mentioned when I met you that we don’t have any African-American actors as of yet. How do you feel about having sex with, say, a White man?”
“I guess it’d be OK. I never have.”
“OK, good. We were thinking of pairing you up initially with one of our best actors, Antonio. His screen name’s ‘Italian Stallion.’ Of course that was directly stolen from ‘Rocky,’”
Sheila chuckled.
“We only use nicknames for privacy issues. You can be called anything you wish. It doesn’t have to be catchy.
Antonio’s finishing up a shoot right now and will be here momentarily. He and you may converse. I’d like to show you what your initial salary would be. We, of course, will need to do a background check, but if that goes through, Sheila and I are prepared to make you an offer. What are your thoughts right now?” Sheila jotted down a figure and passed it across the table to Monica. Monica looked at it and blinked several times. She thought she was going to pass out.
“This – this can’t be right,” Monica said, shaking her head.
Lisa laughed.
“It is. We’re doing very well, and we like for hard work to be rewarded. Though we hope our employees really enjoy their jobs, we do understand that many times people aren’t in the mood, so you have to fake it. We work Monday through Friday from 8AM to 9PM with an occasional Saturday if necessary.
Everyone’s hours vary. Since you’re in school, we’ll try to work around your schedule,” Lisa assured. There was a knock at the door.
“Come in, Tony,” Sheila sang. Antonio walked into the room holding a gym bag and water bottle. Monica’s eyes scanned his muscles and tight-fitting tank top. He was only 5’9”, but seemed much taller. His skin was dark olive and his hair jet-black and cut short. He was clean-shaven. His chin was cleft and his eyes smoldering amber. He walked over to Monica and extended his hand.
“Hi, Monica, I’m Antonio. I’m pleased to meet you.” Monica shook his hand and apologized.
“I’m sorry about my wet hands, I was nervous,” she smiled.
“That’s OK,” he smiled earnestly at her. Lisa and Sheila stood up gathering their things.
“Monica,” Lisa called, “if you accept our offer, and we get the OK from Antonio, please go to the receptionist’s desk and fill out the additional paperwork. Once you do that, you’ll get a letter in the mail confirming the offer, your W-2 form, and other important information. We’ll call you with a start date should you wish to join our team. We hope to see you again soon.”
Monica shook their hands as they left the room. Antonio put his gym bag in one of the chairs and sat next to her.
“You’re a very lucky woman,” he said with a coy grin.
“Why’s that?” Monica looked deep into his eyes. She had not made love in over three weeks. She was sizing him up realizing that he may be her next physical encounter.
“Lisa’s very picky. She has an idea in her mind, and if that person doesn’t fit it, they don’t make it through the interview.
There have been others before you, but they never made it past the first round. Lisa and Sheila want you. I can see why.” He crossed his arms.
“Oh, I find that hard to believe. I’m nothing to write home about. Hell, I have stretch marks.” Monica looked down into her lap.
“Well, the graphic team and camera crew try to be flattering, and a lot is softened, so some of that’s hidden. Also, they want natural-looking people. I’m not built up like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I’m not the tallest man in the world either. I work out a lot, take care of myself, and try to eat right. As far as porn’s concerned, this is a very good company to work for. I have friends that have worked for other companies and trust me, this is truly the best. I want you to know that I understand your hesitation, but since we’re going to be partners, I’m going to show you the ropes a bit and hopefully you’ll feel more comfortable. If I do anything that makes you uneasy, just tell me.” Antonio leaned in to kiss her.
“Wait! Right now? I thought this was just an interview?”
Monica pushed back her chair.
“This is a part of the interview, Monica. If you’re going to be an actress, you have to be ready. It’s not a matter of if you’re attracted to me or not. Of course, that helps, but if you don’t feel it, you have to fake it,” Antonio explained. He leaned into Monica again. This time she winced and braced herself. She did not feel anything. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Antonio smirking, looking at her.
“What?” she questioned.
“You look like a platypus,” he laughed.
“You act like a kiss from me’s going to kill you. Let’s take this somewhere else,” he suggested. Antonio took Monica’s hand and led her to a dressing room. There was a fruit and cheese platter on a table, a bottle of sparkling cider, a mirror with bright lights, and a closet full of clothing. On the vanity were a box of Magnum condoms; a feather duster; assorted lotions; and a new, unopened vibrator.
“Is this your dressing room?” she asked as he led her to a dark red leather couch. The room was gothic-looking. Chains hung from the ceiling, but an interesting twist was the artificial wildflowers draped around some of them.
“Yes, everyone gets their own. You’d have your own, and you’d also have whatever you wanted to eat after shooting. They don’t allow any alcohol, however, unless there’s an after-hours party.”
“I don’t know how I’ll get through this then. I was hoping to be totally drunk,” Monica shrugged. Antonio laughed.
“You’re more nervous than what’s warranted. What’s your biggest concern?” he asked.
“A bunch of strangers seeing me. I don’t want people paying to see me fuck.” Monica said, twisting her lips.
“Well, that’s one way to look at it. Another way’s that you’ve always been paid to fuck and be on display,” Antonio said.
Monica rolled her eyes.
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sure it does. When you have sex with your boyfriend, he’s already paid for things for you.
You’ve being paid to fuck. He wants to not only have your companionship, but also to have sex with you. He wants to touch you and see you on a consistent basis. How long do you think he’d stay around if you weren’t screwing him?” Antonio asked.
“I guess not very long. That doesn’t matter anymore, though.
He’s in prison, or I wouldn’t even be here,” Monica
said sadly.
Antonio sat down on the couch next to her. He took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.
“I want you to practice your breathing.” He breathed slowly, in and out – in and out.
“That’s it. Each breath should be even, steady, and on beat.
Now, I want you to close your eyes and continue your steady breathing.” Monica timidly closed her eyes. Antonio counted ten breaths, and then lightly kissed her lips. Monica opened her eyes.
“No, no, no. Keep them closed. Pretend like I’m not even here,” Antonio said softly. He leaned in closely again, brushing the bangs out of her face. He traced her cheek with his index finger, slowly shaping her face until he reached her chin. He took his index finger and rubbed it lightly down the middle of her partially closed lips. Placing his face close to hers, he breathed lightly into her hair. He breathed with her, catching her rhythm so that they were breathing at the same pace, synchronized.
“Keep your eyes closed and listen. You hear that?” he asked softly.
“That’s what we’ll strive for during shoots. We want to be on rhythm, working our minds and bodies together. When I move, follow my lead. When it’s your turn to move, I’ll follow yours.
This is really important. You’re going to bring a whole new clientele to the company.
You’ll grab the attention of new couples and keep the attention of our old clients that want something new and exciting. We don’t want people to focus only on our skin color, though.
We want them to believe we’re a real couple having sex. So in order to achieve that, we have to move the same and appear compatible. We specialize in fantasy and romance.”
“I’ve only had sex with Black men, though. This is just so –
different,” Monica said.
“Tell me something. With your eyes closed, would you know for certain I was White?”
“No,” Monica answered.
“Then I want you to pretend your eyes are closed until you get past this. White men are no different than the Black men you’ve slept with. We have the same body parts, the same desires, the same needs. Sex is sex.” Antonio leaned in and slowly kissed Monica. His soft lips met hers, as he delivered sensual pecks.
“I want you to open your mouth,” he said softly. Monica opened her mouth gradually.
Antonio surprised her by placing his finger inside.
“Uh, uh. Keep your eyes closed. Do whatever comes naturally,” he said. Monica closed her mouth over his finger, running her tongue up and down it as she would a shaft. Antonio gradually pushed his finger in and out as Monica bathed his digit with warm, soft wetness. He slid his finger out and replaced it with his tongue. Monica concentrated on his thick tongue as it traveled in and out of her mouth, just as his finger had done. He swirled circles around her tongue with his in unhurried, seductive movements. Antonio leaned Monica back onto the couch. He began to pull at her T-shirt. Afraid of her hair getting messed up, Monica took over.
Once she finished, she saw Antonio had removed his as well.
She was amazed by his rippled chest. A tattoo of the Italian flag was emblazoned on his right peck. He unbuttoned the top of her jeans. She unzipped them, pushing them down to her ankles.
Antonio removed her shoes, taking her pants the rest of the way off. Monica surprised herself by grabbing Antonio’s cargo pants.
He laughed, moved his arms aside, and let her remove them.
“OK, now remember, we want to go slowly. We want to get to know one another,” he instructed. He slid his shoes and socks off. They sat there, in their underwear looking at one another.
He gently massaged her shoulders, working his way past her collar bone to her breasts. He rubbed his palms over her bra-covered breasts, making her nipples peak in anticipation. He leaned down and kissed her stomach, bathing it in tiny kisses until he reached her thighs. He lifted one leg, kissing it while staring into her eyes. He put her big toe in his mouth. Monica squirmed. His mouth was hot and moist. He switched legs, doing the same thing.
“How does that feel?” he asked softly.
“Different, but good.” Antonio stood up and removed his underwear. Monica watched, giving an internal nod of approval.
She licked her lips. He laid down on top of her and unbuttoned her bra. As he removed it, he studied her perky breasts.
“Have you ever had sex with a Black woman before?”
Monica suddenly asked, breaking the mood. Antonio gave a husky laugh.
“You’re really stuck on this race thing, aren’t you? To answer your question, yes. I’ve made love to plenty of Black women. I’ve even had some Black girlfriends. Sex is sex. Pussy is pussy. It’s all the same, just different shades. Shocking, huh?”
he teased. He went down on one of her taut, dark brown nipples, engulfing it into his mouth. Monica moaned and instinctively rubbed her fingers through his soft hair. He took turns, alternating between the two before sliding his hand down into her panties.
“Are we being filmed?” Monica interrupted again. Antonio stopped and looked at her.
“No. You’re not hired yet. That would be against the law.
This is part of your interview, Monica. There are no cameras until you’re hired,” he responded. She sensed his annoyance and tried to remain question-free. He rubbed the soft tuft of hair on her pubic bone. Then he gently slid his index finger inside of her.
Monica moaned, letting her head fall back in a relaxed position.
Antonio slid another finger inside, instantaneously taking his thumb and circling her clitoris. Monica moved her hips to his finger thrusts. He stood up and removed her panties.
Monica looked him up and down, suddenly craving him.
Shame dripped into her subconscious as she thought of her boyfriend locked up in prison.
“I’m cheating on him,” she thought to herself. “I’m about to fuck another dude – for money. What am I doing here?” Just as her thoughts were getting the best of her, she felt Antonio’s warm body drape over hers. They seemed to melt into the couch.
He slowly grinded on her.
Speaking softly once more, he instructed, “I want you to pay attention to how I’m moving.
I’m not inside you, obviously. I want you to pay attention to the movement of my hips. I want you to imitate my movements, keeping the same rhythm and beat. I want you to breathe properly and look me in my eyes as we move, OK?”
“OK,” Monica nodded. She paid close attention to how Antonio was grinding on her. He made small, tight circles with his hips, pushing into her pelvis then out – in again – and out.
She imitated his motions until they were fully in sync.
“That’s right. Perfect,” Antonio approved. He kissed her again. First he started with sweet, tiny pecks, then the circling of tongues as he continued to slowly grind against her. He stood up and grabbed a condom from the dresser. After putting it on, he stood there, appearing to be confused.
“What?” Monica asked, looking around the room.
“I’m trying to figure out if I should show you fellatio techniques now or wait.” Little did Antonio know that that was her forte. Monica was one of the few women she knew that enjoyed giving head.
“You can show me now,” Monica volunteered.
“OK,” Antonio agreed. Monica sat up on the couch while Antonio came towards her.
“First, you want to…” he stopped in his tracks while she took him into her mouth, whole.
With one hand, she played with his balls and the other, held him steady. Antonio moaned and jerked back. Monica brought him back close to her and continued her luscious oral assault on his organ. After a couple of minutes, he laughed loudly.
“I can see we don’t need to go over this chapter. My, my, my, you really surprised me.” He looked down at her working him over and felt an orgasm swelling up. She was like a pro. He begrudgingly pulled out of her mouth and flopped on the couch.
“Whew! I have to tell Lisa and Sheila about this. Y
ou’re really good at that,” he grinned.
Monica smiled, loving the compliments. She wiped the side of her mouth.
“I’m serious. You give amazing head. I definitely felt that, even through the condom. I’ve been fucking all day, literally, and that really turned me on. Well done,” he laughed.
“Well, I’m glad.” Monica pinched her nipple. It was a nervous habit she typically did after sex.
“What’s that?” Antonio asked.
“What’s what?” Monica looked down.
“You grabbed your nipple. Does that feel good? Do you like that sort of thing? I can do that if you want?” he offered. She smirked.
“I’ve always done that. It’s just something I do without thinking.”
“Do you like your nipples pulled?” Antonio asked.
“Yeah, they’re very sensitive.”
“You like them sucked a lot?” he questioned.
“Definitely,” Monica responded.
“OK. Well, they’re very nice. I won’t have a problem with that. Duly noted.” He saluted her and smiled. He stood up and started to put his clothes back on.
“Oh, is that it?” Monica asked slightly disappointed.
“Yes. You passed. We’ll go over some other things after your blood tests and STD screenings return.”
“OK. Well – thank you – I guess?” Monica asked.
“You’re welcome, Monica. I think you’ll like it here.”
Antonio gave her a hug, helped her get dressed, and showed her how to return to the main lobby. Later that evening in bed, Monica tossed and turned. She couldn’t get Antonio out of her mind. His scent – he smelled like a mixture of citrus and musk, his silky black hair, the way he looked at her – she shoved a pillow between her legs and forced herself to go to sleep in a pile of her half-read text and highlighted books.
* * *
“'Cops' is on. Isn’t that just perfect?” Monica abruptly turned the television off and winced.
She got up from the couch to fix herself a sandwich. Her cell phone rang.
“I don’t recognize this number,” she thought to herself. In case it was regarding Brian’s case, she thought she had better answer.
