by Thomas Briar
She couldn’t help wondering if Evan was conscious of her state of arousal when he turned to envelop her in his arms and bend his head down to kiss her. His lips were pleasantly warm and his tongue tasted of alcohol. Both moved sensually over hers. She quickly lost all sense of reserve and returned his kiss with all the passion coursing through her.
He broke the kiss, whispering huskily, “I’ve never wanted anyone more and here we are in a place where I can’t have you.”
“I want you too,” Kara whispered back.
An electrical storm crackled in his eyes. “We can’t. Not here. But I’ll do something special just for you. Now let’s watch the rest of the show before we forget our reason for being here and do something really foolish that we’ll both regret later.”
Kara let out a ragged breath. Her clitoris teemed with sexual desire. “Sure, whatever you say. But you have to fuck me sometime tonight. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Evan made no promises, only twisted Kara’s body so he held her from behind with his arms draped around her. He turned them toward the stage.
Never had she been so conscious of any man. She loved the way his chin rested perfectly on top of her head, the strength of his strong arms embracing her, the feel of his hard chest and stomach against her shoulders and back, but most of all she loved the sensation of his hard cock straining against his slacks to press against the cleft of her ass.
This declared he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She gasped loudly the moment his fingers began tracing out the contours of her breasts through her dress.
The stage performance took a back seat in Kara’s glazed eyes when Evan’s fingers started unclasping the buttons along the front of her dress. She was only vaguely aware of the attendants helping the queen from the tub to dry her off. Now they were leading her over to a throne set up in the center of the stage. Positioning the queen before the throne, the blondes sandwiched her between their bodies to start kissing either sides of the queen’s neck.
“Oooohhhh,” the queen moaned.
Kara, keeping an even pace with the queen’s seduction, suppressed the urge to give up a corresponding moan. In her fevered state of arousal, she couldn’t help thrilling to the fact that the blondes possessed the longest tongues. Whenever they licked the queen’s neck those greedy tongues stretched down to the bottom of their chins. They slowly licked their way down the queen’s body.
Kara knew what was going to transpire and if not for Evan having now finished unclasping the buttons, she would have been envious of the queen. So very envious.
Then his hands were slipping inside her dress, tracing out the contours of her supple breasts and taut nipples. It took all of her willpower to not twist around in his embrace and kiss him passionately again.
The blondes were on their knees now, licking the standing queen’s thighs, front and back at the same time. The queen stared at them in obvious impatience.
Kara became torn between closing her eyes to better enjoy the physical sensations of Evan’s ministrations while simultaneously wanting to keep her eyes glued on what was happening in front of her.
The blondes slowly worked their faces and tongues into the queen’s clefts, front and back. The queen cooed loudly on trembling legs, the fingers of either hands twining in the hair of the blondes to tug their faces tighter against her body.
“Fuck it!” Evan cursed. He lifted up the tail of her dress to bunch it in between his stomach and her lower back.
With her anticipation growing by leaps and bounds, she felt him pull his body away from her for a second and then he was slipping his hard cock into the back of her panties between the cheeks of her ass. The superfluous amount of pre-cum oozing from the head of his dick facilitated easy slippage.
But unfortunately, his standing tallness and the downward angle of his cock made it impossible for any kind of penetration without her first bending over. And she would have willingly bent over, but he once again held her in an iron embrace. So his cock could only slide along her natal cleft, the head rubbing against her asshole to tease her unmercifully.
At some point the queen had climbed up onto the throne. Its height and open seat allowed the women to remain kneeling beneath her to worship her pussy and ass. The queen’s face, neck, and shoulders had taken on a reddish hue. She continually panted and moaned.
Kara closed her eyes and welcomed the warm fingers of Evan’s right hand tracing their way down past her navel to slide into her panties. He rubbed two fingers along her slit for lubrication before becoming more intimate. His fingers tugged at her protruding inner lips, delved inside her, rubbed her clit, abandoned her clit, delved up inside her again, to finally return to her clit in earnest as he steadily rubbed the head of his cock along the cleft of her ass.
On stage, a prolonged wail of satisfaction drew Kara’s attention. She forced her eyes open to witness the queen’s orgasm. Her own climax quickly followed suit amidst the audience’s thunderous applause. Her knees trembled from the pleasure cascading over her in waves. However, the most gratifying moment for her came when Evan clutched her tightly as he groaned into her ear and spurted a superfluous amount of semen into her panties.
For the rest of the evening she remained attached to Evan’s arm as she floated around on an emotional high, refusing to come back down to earth. Her first sexual dalliance with him had been a glowing success and it didn’t bother her in the least that his sticky masculine essence remained trapped inside her panties against her pussy. Oh no, it certainly didn’t.
In spite of what anyone else might think of this taboo conclusion, she harbored no doubts. She was the most sexually provocative woman in the room.
Chapter Eight
The next morning Kara soaked alone in a tub of warm water following breakfast. She stared at her reflection in the cheval glass standing alongside the tub. She practiced her come-hither look. Every now and again she cast this fabricated look onto a jar of mayonnaise sitting on the floor beside the tub. The handle of a plastic spoon stuck out of its open top.
She’d never liked mayonnaise. Not ever. It was an affront to both her senses of smell and taste. Disgusting was the word she thought described it best. That’s why she’d chosen it as a training tool.
Each morning for the past month she’d been suffering through a heaping spoonful after breakfast. In addition, she performed this unenviable task while offering up a wonderful smile at its supposed deliciousness as she let its creamy terribleness permeate her mouth and tongue before finally swallowing it down.
She thought this willingness to suffer for art proved she was a consummate professional, one of those rare actresses who were willing to do whatever it took to make her character’s reactions enhance her performances. Without a doubt, she intended to give a stellar performance during rehearsal tomorrow night and then again on Saturday. Her newfound love for Evan made her want to excel even more.
A shameful thrill ran up her spine and she couldn’t help shaking her head while whispering, “If the general public knew all the things actors and actresses practiced in private to bring a sense of realism to our performances then we would be reviled instead of revered.”
She’d seriously considered letting Jennifer help her with this next evolution of her training, but chose not to ask for fear the seriousness of the exercise would descend into hijinks as soon as she let her friend wield the spoon.
She began touching her breasts, taking her time to enjoy the wonderful sensation of her soft fingertips stroking her taut nipples. Under her ministrations, her body temperature rose, and with this delicious heat, tiny sparks of arousal surged into her clit.
As her clitoris swelled with longing, she began rubbing it gently within her clitoral hood. Evan’s comments about the evils of circumcision from yesterday floated across her mind and his explanation seemed reasonable. The skin covering her clitoris served the same purpose as foreskin. If it were removed, a desensitizing effect would surely transpire over time as her unp
rotected clitoris rubbed against her clothing.
To put this theory to the test, she pulled back her clitoral hood to expose her clitoris glans. It stood out as an engorged pinkish nub on the end of her clitoral shaft above her pussy lips. She used the soft pad of her middle finger to gently rub over it. Immediately, her hips jerked away in response. Direct stimulation was much too intense.
In thinking back to other masturbation sessions she’d enjoyed, she remembered she’d only used direct contact against her exposed clitoris after a certain point of arousal had been achieved. Any kind of direct contact beforehand wasn’t pleasurable—instead, caused intense pain. And, as she’d told Jennifer two nights ago, she wasn’t into pain.
She released her clitoral hood to let it slide back down to protect her clit. She went back to rubbing it gently with two fingers. The pleasurable sensation returned.
Between her knees, resting underneath the warm water, Evan’s life-sized dildo beckoned to her. The bottle of water-based lube lay beside it. She quickly retrieved both, lubed up, and then gave the dildo a kiss. The lube smelled and tasted like strawberries. She licked her lips and then opened her mouth to engulf the head.
Like all the other times before, the dildo felt humongous inside her mouth. She thrilled at its size and returned to strumming her clit. The dildo always went down more easily if she were turned on. And practice, she believed, would be the only way for her to perfect a visually and emotionally satisfying deepthroat technique.
She began pushing it further into her mouth until it made contact with the back of her throat and her involuntary gag reflex. She held it in place as she struggled to keep from dry retching. Her throat slowly acclimated to this anomaly and relaxed. She tilted her head all the way back to begin pushing it down in small increments. Her breath was cut off long before she achieved what women in the know called ‘balls deep’.
Kara ignored her want for oxygen, holding the dildo deep inside her throat as she’d seen others do. Out of the corner of her eye she could see in the mirror that her expression grew strained. Her throat bulged outward with her lips stretched into the semblance of a thin O around the base of the dildo. She kept rubbing her clit so the pleasure would help offset the unpleasant sensation of her self-imposed suffocation. Only upon reaching the threshold of dizziness did she pull the dildo out of her throat to take a ragged, life-saving breath.
She repeated the process ten more times, eventually becoming able to slide it easily back and forth inside her throat. As she’d hoped, her gag reflex was becoming less and less noticeable with each day she practiced. Satisfied with her oral workout and not wanting to make her throat raw, she dropped the dildo back into the water.
Now she had only one more obstacle she needed to overcome before Saturday—the involuntarily flinching reaction that accompanied anything splattering onto her face. Top porn stars did not dodge away from facials or give up the least flinch when it came to the moneyshot.
One of the reasons she’d picked mayonnaise to practice with pertained to its thick consistency. Another reason was that her thinking allowed that if she could swallow mayonnaise with a smile, then swallowing Evan’s semen in the same fashion shouldn’t pose any problem for her. And after dipping a finger into her cum-soaked panties last night and sneaking a tentative lick, she’d learned that mayonnaise tasted much worse than she’d always heard semen did.
She reached over the side of the tub to withdraw the spoon from the mayonnaise and bring it up to her nose. The offensive smell assaulted her nostrils as it always did. But she smiled in spite of it.
She stared at the white gob on the end of the spoon to prepare herself emotionally for the inevitable. In time, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. The fingers of her free hand returned to rubbing her clit furiously.
She flicked the mayo at her open mouth and tongue. Her aim and trajectory was off and the mayo speckled her left breast. Spooning out another gob, she tried again, this time speckling her chin and neck. She was getting closer.
Thirty minutes and one orgasm later, the mocha skin of her breasts and face was covered in white mayonnaise, but the flinch that she’d thought would be the hardest of all the obstacles to conquer had proved to be the easiest.
She quickly showered off, watching the mayo slide down her body to disappear into the drain. Now she focused on getting rid of the lingering smell. She shampooed her hair, soaped her body, rinsed, and then repeated the process two more times.
Content with her cleanliness, she lingered under the warm spray of water. A tremendous sense of accomplishment welled up within her. Saturday’s performance wouldn’t pose any problems for her now. She would breeze through all aspects like a seasoned professional. An additional bonus would be that she would make Evan proud of her.
This was one of the things that really got her about him. He exemplified one of those rare individuals that made her feel compelled to please him. No other person before him had ever brought this emotion out of her on such an intimate level. Of a surety, there had been acting coaches and directors that’d worked with her to help her become the best actress she could possibly be, but she’d only strived to please them so she could make a lot of money upon honing her talents.
In this particular instance, she couldn’t care any less about the money she’d make from her performance with Evan. It’d never been about the money anyway. Her motivations had always run deeper than monetary gain.
Now her present motivations ran even deeper than her original motivations. Yes, she still wanted to experience her fantasies of whoredom in a safe environment, but she also wanted a romantic relationship with Evan and the intimacy they shared to last for the rest of her life.
Last night had proved this to her beyond any shadow of a doubt. She now knew she’d never be able to find contentment in life—no matter the amount of professional success she enjoyed—without preserving the safety and security she’d experienced within his protective embrace as he made her come.
Furthermore, even though they hadn’t discussed the obvious romantic implications behind his kind of having sex with her in the ballroom during the cab ride home last night, he’d still held her tenderly to his side. Then, once he escorted her to the door of his apartment, he appeared to be on the verge of saying something endearing when he’d abruptly kissed her goodnight. It hadn’t been a cursory peck on the cheek either. It had been a deeply romantic kiss. The kind every woman dreams of receiving at the end of a perfect date.
Yes, last night had sealed the deal for her. It also provided an additional reason for not letting him down on Saturday. If she performed better than any other woman that he’d ever worked with then it would elevate her worth in his eyes even more, which in turn, might make him shift his focus entirely onto her as a long-term romantic possibility instead of a protégé.
To shore up her reasoning with fact, she knew any woman, same as any man, was worth only what they brought to the table of any sexual relationship they entered into. Thus, she had to find a way to get Evan to start thinking of her as the most desirable woman in the world so he would want to bond himself to her for life. She now knew she couldn’t bear only fucking him twice before he disappeared into the sunset without her.
She grimaced at the thought of that happening. The newfound love she had for him came with a host of seemingly insurmountable problems. First and foremost, his and her careers posed the greatest obstacle. She couldn’t quit mainstream acting and neither could he quit porn. So what might be an acceptable compromise?
She honestly didn’t know.
Another problem presented itself following her failure to find a solution to the first problem. How was she ever going to get up the nerve to tell him the truth about her deception following their performance? Also, if she somehow found the nerve to reveal that truth, what would his reaction be?
Admiration? Scorn? Complete indifference? Outright rejection? What if he even went one step further than outright rejection to vehemently curse
her for her deception?
She couldn’t imagine him doing something so vile to her, but neither did she think he was a man to easily forgive a deception, especially not after he’d developed a genuine liking for the person, as she believed he had for her.
To give more credence to this horrible outcome, she remembered that it’d been him to once bring up the fact that the worst feeling in the world was to be deceived by someone who was supposed to be your friend.
On a somewhat positive note, the only consolation prize from his scathing denouncement would be that it should make it easier for her to go back to her normal life and forget all him. Indeed, the inevitable declared she must forget him following their one public performance together, no matter what she wanted to the contrary.
Upon accepting this conclusion as best for the both of them, her heart began palpitating wildly inside her chest and she became dizzy. A nauseated feeling permeated her stomach. Her knees slowly buckled and she sank down in the tub under the warm spray of water to sob uncontrollably.
Why did life have to be so unfair?
He was the man for her. The only person she’d ever felt completely connected to.
He’d always exemplified the perfect gentleman and she had done nothing but continually lie to him like a deceitful bitch.
She remembered on the first night they’d met how Evan had called her a problem solver. She strained to come up with a solution to her conundrum. Underneath the emotional pain consuming her, an idea presented itself. There was a way for them to stay together. An ideal way, if she could only get him to accept it.
This little sliver of hope gave her the strength to rise from her despair. All of her tears disappeared as her mind raced in a flurry of activity.
Chapter Nine
“What made you start writing porn scripts?” Kara asked. She and Evan sat across from each other in the back corner booth of a trendy donut shop. Although many customers steadily filed in to pick up to-go orders, there were only a trio of young women in the dining area along with them. This trio sat on the other side of the shop so she felt no danger of them being able to eavesdrop.
