Storiesonline.net
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                              OSL: Felicia
                              by bluedragon

Copyright© 2010 by bluedragon


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Description: Felicia Clarkson has a good life by anyone's standards. She's breathtakingly beautiful and has a reasonably successful modeling career. But now a blast from her past re-enters her life, and everything is about to change. WARNING: Read those story codes.

Codes: MF FF Mult dru bi D/S Mdom rough BD gang group oral anal toys
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Let me first state upfront that while this story is part of the Ordinary Sex Life world, I did not write it. All credit goes to an anonymous author codenamed "SR". The story takes place concurrently with the events of "An Ordinary College Sex Life", specifically during the second semester of Ben's Sophomore Year. Don't bother reading this if you haven't already read that story.

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Part I

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Chapter 1: Meeting


"Flip your hair, Felicia!" James said as he circled me. "Toss it nice and high and give me a -- yes! That look!" James' camera clicked rapidly, a sound I was used to hearing. A sound that, on a good day, gave me a small buzz.

I gave him my most sultry look and winked at him. The winking would never make it into a take but the before or after shot might. Winking has an effect on my face, James often told me. He thinks winking puts me in a higher mood.

I stood in a small set in James' large apartment in San Francisco. Me, Felicia Clarkson, an up and coming model-- or so my agent, Marcos, loved to tell me. Behind me sat a large green screen, and around me were several lights.

"Her hair's getting junked," Trudy called over from the wing space.

James nodded, albeit impatiently. "Take a break, Felicia."

"Thanks," I said. This was a long shoot, and despite what people out there think, it is possible to get tired modeling. I chugged some water, despite Trudy's frowning. "Sorry, thirsty."

Trudy was a fifty-year-old make-up and hair artist who worked almost exclusively with James. Over the past couple years, I'd gotten to know her very well. "You look lovely, darling," she said, "but your hair is coming undone, and I'm going to have to redo your lipstick now."

I snatched the lipstick from her. "Nope, I'll do it while you fix my hair."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed James watching us, smiling. James was a good guy. I loved doing shoots with him, and always requested him whenever my contract stated I could have preference. He wasn't really my type, though. I prefer taller men with a solid build, and James was barely taller than me and scrawny. Handsome face, yes, but that was about it. Oh, and as I mentioned, a good guy.

Marcos came over to me while Trudy went to work. I had my lips pursed and puckered, checking the lipstick job when I saw him in the mirror. "Hello, Mr. Agent, what brings you to my shoot?"

Marcos stood behind me in his perfect attire, a very well-cut Kenneth Cole suit with matching shoes. He always dressed well. I dated him for two years, so I know. Clothing perfection. Some men spend their money on cars or home electronics. Marcos liked clothes. Even his pajamas were designer. He drove an Acura, an okay one, but he was always dressed to the tee. "I was passing through and thought I'd stop in."

"B.S." Marcos never just drops in, especially for me. I'm not even close to one of his biggest clients. He stroked his black goatee. Bad news. Trudy even could tell. She made a tsking sound and kept fixing my hair.

"You didn't get Horacio's."

I closed my eyes briefly, but didn't frown. It wasn't the worst news. Horacio was a big deal editor and his layouts were always big deal layouts. I was a long shot, and I'd known it. Still, Marcos made me try every season. He cared about me and wanted me to aim high, even if I always missed. Don't get me wrong, I was a good model, and I did all right, but I wasn't "Horacio's big."

"Oh well," I said, smiling my best. "There's always next season."

"That's what I hoped you'd say," Marcos said. He patted my shoulder and gave me a wink. I used to love that wink when Marcos and I had first started dating. He's a very handsome black man with amazing taste in clothes, food, and music, but he's also very forgetful of birthdays, special occasions, and important dates with girlfriends. It's not that he didn't care about me, he just didn't care about me more than he cared about work. To Marcos, his best girl will always be his job.

"Break's over." James waited back on the set, camera in hand. Trudy did a couple of last second things with my hair, gave me a judging squint, and approved my dismissal.

"I look amazing," I told her, puckering my lips to her reflection.

Trudy blew me a kiss and gave a thumbs up.

In a matter of seconds, the camera was flashing at me, and I watched Marcos slip out of the studio and tried to act like I was the happiest, sexiest woman in the world. Because that's what Macy's bikini line needed me to be. The shoot lasted a total of three hours. I put on seven different bikinis and Trudy changed my hair once for each outfit. I had to admit, Macy's had assembled a good line this year. I saw two I definitely planned to buy and take with me to next summer camp. Ben, Dawn, and Adrienne would be drooling over me and peeling them off me. I couldn't wait.

After the shoot ended, I changed back into my street clothes and toned down the makeup and hair. I came out and gave Trudy a hand cleaning up. It wasn't normal for models to do that, but I didn't mind. I'd gotten to know Trudy so well we were basically good friends, even if we didn't hang out off set. James was cleaning and putting away his lenses. He held them like babies. I used to tease him about it, but he doesn't ruffle easily.

"Bad news today?" James called out to me as he carefully closed the last of his lens cases.

"Meh," was my response. "No big surprises."

"Big enough for Marcos to show up, though." He waved me over to his computer. "The pictures are all here."

I stood over his shoulder while he leaned down to work the laptop. "I can't believe how fast you have them now. Computers are such a mystery to me."

James laughed. "Just spend more time looking at porn and you'll learn all you need to about computers."

"Ew!" I laughed, too, and pushed him a little. "There I am. Ta duh!"

James clicked through several pages of filled with photos of me. They looked good, but as my time in the industry racked up, I began to see what others were telling me: I didn't have "IT." Something was missing, and I couldn't put my finger on exactly what IT was, but I could certainly see it was missing. My modeling ability stood somewhere between local department store ads and a swimsuit cover. It sucked.

James must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with a happy frown and sympathy in his eyes. "They're not bad."

"They aren't amazing though, either." I shook my head in dismay. I'd tried really hard and implemented some of the techniques my latest coach had taught me. It hadn't worked.

"Are you eating well?" James asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have enough to eat?" he insisted.

I choked out a harsh laugh. "Shit, James, I'm not anorexic or something. Are you kidding me?"

James snorted badly and had to cover his face with the collar of his white shirt. "I wasn't implying that. I'm asking if you have enough money to pay rent, buy food, keep your bills paid down. Don't get upset. Most models can't even pay their bills without a second job. You can. That puts you in the top forty percent."

He had a point. A good one. But my sour mood stayed with me until I got home. My apartment was in a nice part of the city with a good view. Okay, a great view. But Adrienne helped with the rent. She could have paid it all, if she wanted to, and she wasn't even working full time ... yet, despite her plans to.

Adrienne.

That was a big part of my problem. She was already farther ahead than me. Most of her contracts more were worth more than mine. She didn't even have enough time to take all the offers being thrown at her. She was on the fast track. I wasn't.

I set my purse on my table just inside the door and kicked off my shoes. I had the place to myself. Adrienne was likely staying the night with Big Ben. It was just me and Whiskers, my ferret. I put on some soup and turned up the news. The headline story was about another gay parade. Every other news story in San Francisco had something to do with gay or lesbian rights. Welcome to the Rainbow City. Not a bad place to live.

I'm not the world's best cook, but I make do. Adrienne likes my cooking. While letting everything simmer, I hopped into the shower and scrubbed off my makeup and got all the crap out of my hair. Believe me, nothing beats that fresh feeling after a long shoot. I put on a robe and went back into the kitchen. The door was open.

I screamed a little, and a girl with long blonde hair jumped, too.

"Adrienne!" I yelled. "Maybe announce that you're home next time, so you don't have to give me CPR. Gosh!"

Adrienne laughed loudly. Her laugh is like music, and I've told her that. If I was a lesbian, I'd be madly in love with Adrienne Dennis. No question about it.

"Whatcha cookin', good lookin'?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen. "Yum yum." Her voice transformed into a French chef's. "Eez deez pour moi, mademoiselle? Eez yoo going to share eet with me?"

"Help yourself." My appetite had suddenly disappeared. Adrienne had just come from a shoot, too. Her hair looked perfect, her makeup dynamic. She looked exhausted, too.

"What's the matter?" Her question came as I walked from the kitchen.

"I thought you were going to school today." I didn't want to answer her question, because I'd finally figured out exactly what that was.

Adrienne followed me, taking off her earrings as she walked. "Yeah, I changed my mind. I needed the shoots. Good for my 'folio."

I rolled my eyes. She still used the new model talk. No one really calls it a "'folio." Adrienne was so new she didn't even really have the lingo down. But that didn't stop her from getting a ton of Grade B work, and pushing Grade A work faster than Ben can get a hard-on.

"My agent had two shoots for me, so I just figured, who really needs to learn biology from lecture anyway? I can always read the textbook. And it's not like I really will, but ... whatever."

I laughed, but it didn't sound like me. Adrienne heard it, too. She grabbed my arm and pulled. "What's wrong?"

I stared at her blankly, both mesmerized and angry at her beauty. Adrienne is one of those girls who surpasses "hot" and "pretty." Even beautiful isn't the right word. If I had to pick one it'd be "exquisite." Even Dawn and the other Evans girls don't quite measure up, in my opinion. I think that's why Ben originally chose Adrienne. He is, after all, a sexual being before anything else. "You must be exhausted," I told her. "Go get some soup."

Adrienne kept her grip, searching into my eyes. I've had men call me a goddess before, most of them while fucking. But standing next to Adrienne was like standing next to a Goddess of Goddesses. I just couldn't compete. I couldn't keep up. No way. She'd be on Horacio's in a year ... if she even wanted to be.

"You had two shoots today?" I asked, even though she'd already answered. "I haven't had a day of two shoots in a four months."

Adrienne's expression went from concerned to soft. I am older then her, yes, but not really. It was just a number to describe my biological age, but not the age of our souls. She was older than me by years in that way. Her reminder was gentle. "You taught me everything I know. Don't be jealous of me, please."

A small wave of emotion hit me, but it didn't make me cry. It just made me feel ... special, I guess. Adrienne had that way with me, with everyone, really. She also had IT. And it was what gave her power over me in a very real sense.

"I'll always be indebted to you for my success in modeling, Felicia," she said. The tenderness in her voice was like a massage, and I loved it. "I won't forget it, ever, so please don't begrudge me whatever happens."

I nodded quickly, wanting to apologize, but before I could, she was kissing me. Her lips were warm, still wet with some lipstick. Her teeth brushed mine a little as we opened our mouths to accept each others' entrance. Her tongue pushed mine first—she was almost always the first. A.D. was an eager beaver, no doubt about it. Her tongue slid along mine, wet and loving, and caressed me. Our lips pressed against each other harder, and she pulled me into a strong, warm embrace. She always needed relief after a shoot. Always.

She backed up again and my tongue was still out of my mouth so she reached out with hers and licked my tongue. We sat there for several seconds, letting out tongues enjoy each other, push against each other, and massage each other. I looked into her eyes and saw her spark. I saw IT. That essence that gave her such a presence, such a command over everyone except perhaps Ben and Dawn, the only two with strong enough wills to tame her. She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees.

"Take off your robe, slut," she said. Her tone transformed to cold and commanding. It sent a little tingle down my pussy and I felt instantly hot. I loved this part. I did as she told me, baring myself to her. She ran her finger idly along my nipples, teasing them to hardness.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" she whispered.

The apartment wasn't warm or cold, but the sensation made my nipples stand firm. I have fairly large nipples, and Adrienne enjoys sucking them for several minutes to see how big she can make them grow.

After my breasts received plenty of her undivided attention, Adrienne's hands went to her own pants and undid them. She pulled her jeans down along with her panties. Normally she wore thongs, but today she'd chosen a very nice panty: tight, blue, and lacy. They hugged her ass firmly and cupped her cheeks. She spread her legs slightly, her voice now deeper and firm.

"Suck my cunt, bitch."

I leaned my head in and used one hand to part her lips. Adrienne had taken to shaving completely lately, which I liked, and her skin was smooth and warm. I put my tongue between her lips and drove it deeply up and down the length of her slit, pressing gently into her tunnel. With my other hand I played with my own clit, squeezing it with alternating pressures, sending little waves of pleasure up and down my legs. Adrienne moaned and grabbed my head, trapping it in place. Her other hand played with her own E cup tits. I drove my tongue into her slot and used my nose to tickle her clit. Each time I wiggled my head, she gasped and jerked.

"Fuck my pussy," Adrienne moaned, "just like that." Her fingers curled and gripped my hair so tight it was almost painful. I used my tongue to fuck her vagina until it became tired, then I switched and put two fingers fully into her and used my tongue to lazily stroke her pleasure center.

"Felicia, that is so good!" she cried. "Fuck me just like that." I smiled into her pussy and drove harder into her. Her tunnel grew wet and warm. Her hands shoved my face into her pelvis, mashing my tongue against her clit, leaving me no choice but to lick her as hard as I could. I curled my fingers upward, gently scraping them along her most sensitive area. My other hand, coated with my own wetness, reached around and penetrated her little sphincter in the rear with my index finger. Adrienne's knees almost buckled and she caught herself against the hallway wall.

"FUCK!" she screamed. "Fucking bitch!" Her muscles tightened around my fingers, coating them with wetness, and her hips rocked gently into my face. I knew her too well to think I could quit now. I pistoned my hand in and out of her using both my thumb and tongue to work her button pulsing for my attention. Adrienne's words became mutters and shrieks and she fucked my face with her hips. I had to grip her ass for support as she shoved herself further onto me. I clenched her cheek first, then put my index finger back into her anus, this time accompanied by my middle finger. Adrienne screamed louder than ever. Her obscenities bounced off the walls and into my ears. I was greeted with one last small coating of cum on my fingers, and Adrienne pulled from my grasp, panting, smiling.

I held my hand up, waiting for her command. It took her several moments to recover. Her hair was a wreck, and her once perfect makeup almost made her look a little scary. She saw me awaiting her word, and finally said, "Okay, slut, you can taste it."

I put the fingers coated in her cum into my mouth and sampled her. My eyes closed as I enjoyed the sensation of her sweet nectar on my taste buds. Adrienne crawled across the floor to me, pulling the fingers from my mouth and pressing her own lips on mine. She sucked my lower lip into her mouth and teased it. Then she put the same fingers I'd just sucked on back into her pussy, and swirled them around for me.

"Mmm," she moaned. "My turn." She slipped the fingers into her own mouth and flicked her tongue across my fingertips. The sensation turned me on more than anything else so far had. I felt a hunger well up deep within me. I stood up and grabbed her by the hand, yanking her off the floor.

"Now!" I said, pulling her behind me.

"But what about the soup?" she asked with a tease in her voice.

"It can fucking simmer forever," I answered, my teeth gritted. I needed relief, I needed to cum. I needed to cum all over her face like she had done to me. I led her to my bedroom and pulled open the drawer next to the bed. Inside was a strap-on dildo. I threw it at her and crawled on the bed, spreading my legs for her lewdly, resting on my elbows.

"I'm guessing I don't need lube?" Adrienne's tone was playful, but I only moaned in response. I needed. I NEEDED. I fucking needed fucking. I saw her behind me slip into the straps and cinch them. She took her time doing so, smiling sweetly at me in her sarcastic way, prolonging the need coursing through me. I panted and moaned, but she moved only slower.

By the time she had the strap-on ready, she was fully naked. Her body was incredible. Curvy yet slender, soft and supple, toned and shining. Like I said, if I was a lesbian, I'd be in love with her. She stroked the dildo like a cock, exactly how I'd seen many of my own boyfriends stroke themselves to full hardness before taking me from behind. She rubbed her hands up and down my back, massaging right along my spine, first with her fingertips, then with her short nails. She let the head of the dildo tease my slit and rub my clit.

When I could take it no more, I pulled my hips forward, raised them up just a hair, and slammed my hips back into her. My aim was good. The phallus sunk deep into me. My muscles clenched it tightly and I had a small orgasm rip through me from the penetration alone. Adrienne laughed at my urgency. Then she went to business. She knew exactly how I liked to be fucked.

First, she gripped my hips and slammed roughly into me. She called me dirty, filthy names and slapped my ass repeatedly. Each slap was a like a bolt of electricity flying through my skin. It urged me on, increasing my drive as I pushed my body back into her until we achieved a good, steady rhythm. When she got tired of that, she reached down, leaning over me, and grabbed my breasts, squeezing the nipples firmly and rolling them between her fingers. I bit back a scream. She licked up and down my back, sometimes biting me. All the while, we kept the same pace as my intensity rose higher each second.

"Fuck my cock, you cunt-eating slut!" Adrienne yelled at me. "Fuck it, whore!" She smacked my ass harder and reached around to play with my clit. The moment she touched it I felt my pleasure rise until I hit my peak.

I screamed her name over and over again as she rubbed it, prolonging my orgasm. My juices seeped out of my cunt, dripping onto the bed. One orgasm extended into two as she used a second hand to twist my nipple roughly. Usually this is too sensitive for pleasure as I cum, but Adrienne timed it perfectly to make me cum again. "Scream more, slut!" she ordered me.

I could do nothing but obey. I was putty in her hands.

Finally, I calmed down. My worries were gone, and my jealousy had gone back into its little box where it stayed under control ... for now. Adrienne pulled out of me and put the dildo to my lips so I could lick it clean. While I prefer her taste over my own, I still like doing as I'm told when I'm with Adrienne. I sucked off my juices and leaned back so she could french kiss me again, as I know she likes to. She stole over half of my flavor out of my mouth as she sucked on my tongue, then got off me and skipped out the room.

"Where are you going?" I whined.

"Soup, silly!" she called back. "If we're going to fuck again, I need fluids!"



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Chapter 2: Reuniting


Adrienne and I rarely sleep in the same bed, and last night wasn't any different. When I awoke the next morning, she had already left. A note had been taped to the fridge: LOVE YOU! With a big smiley face drawn underneath. Just as I'd poured myself some breakfast, I heard my phone ringing in another room. I almost thought it wouldn't be worth the effort of getting up and searching, but I decided to get off my lazy butt and answer it.

"Probably Rob wanting a booty call," I muttered to myself. Yes, I can be a grouch in the morning, even if my boyfriend is calling.

The screen said it was Marcos. "What's up, Mr. Agent?"

"Felicia! Get yourself dressed. I need you down at the Fairfox Studio pronto if you want a job today."

My exhausted mind tried to stop the whirlwind blowing around in my head. "Fairfox? Why does that sound familiar? You mean the Buzz Mag shoot?"

"That's the one. If you want it, they want you."

Adrienne was supposed to be doing that this morning, I realized. I glanced over to the fridge. The smiley face on the note was looking awfully smiley right now. Adrienne had passed it up so I could have it. I felt both annoyed and grateful at having such an awesome friend. How could I not accept her gesture of kindness?

One nice thing about being a model is that you don't have to show up to work looking good. Someone will be there to do your makeup. Someone will have nice clothes for you to wear. Someone will do your hair. It's really a nice perk. I showed up to the studio five minutes early (I usually like to arrive twenty to thirty minutes early) and got ready.

The shoot went very well. I was in a perky mood by the time I'd been dolled up and slipped into my negligee. Buzz magazine was a lot like Esquire and FHM and Maxim, but was more up-and-coming than well-established. Kind of like me. The photographer was part slimeball, part passably respectful, and the whole operation went smoothly. I wasn't the cover girl, they were shooting pictures of me for an article called Twelve Tips to Get Your Girl to Do Anal. They had to get a picture of me looking disgusted, curious, in bliss, and about ten other poses of various enthusiasm. So we ended up spending nearly an hour taking three hundred or more shots until the magazine editor was satisfied. He was very complimentary. As I was leaving the set, the cover model showed up. I'd seen her before. Eastern European glamour model. Yanka something. Really big over in the Czech Republic before bringing her talents to the U.S. Her agent walked beside her, talking on his phone. She had a vapid stare that seemed to take in almost nothing but the air in front of her. And ... she was gorgeous.

"All right, Yanka's here, clear the set," the editor yelled, mostly at me and the photographer.

The agent got off his phone to help out, and that's when I got a good look at him. My jaw, had it been made of rubber bands, would have hit the floor. The man was Damien. My old lover from summer camp. Damien Santos. The man I'd given my virginity to. Damien Michael Rivera Santos. The man who'd left me at the big dance and broken my heart. He was here, right in front of me, looking at me, recognizing me. He was dressed like a hotshot actor and he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

"Oh my—Felicia!" he reached out and hugged me. I didn't even know how I got into his arms. Had someone pushed me? His arms wrapped around my back and pulled me tight. He smelled incredible. His style of dress reminded me a lot of Marcos. It was the way all the best agents dressed. Dress for success, just like all the books out there tell you to do. He held me for a long time, and finally I recovered enough to return the embrace. So many feelings bombarded me in those few seconds that I almost fell in love all over again. This was the man I'd told myself I would marry. I had given him my most treasured possession to him. He had shown me ecstasy that very few had duplicated. Damien Santos.

The cover model, Yanka, if that was even her name, stood staring at us with an odd expression on her face. "Damien, who is this? I have to get on!" Her voice reminded me of many models I worked with, girls who had three moods: unhappy, mad, and annoyed. Spoiled bitches who think they run the world.

"Relax, baby," Damien told her as he smiled at me, "This is an old friend. We go way back. I didn't know she'd gotten into modeling too." He looked me up and down, appreciating what he saw. "Though I can't say I'm at all surprised."

Suddenly, as if realizing how important his client was, he looked back at her. "Go on up there, baby, and I'll make sure everything goes smoothly, but don't be alarmed if I disappear for a second so I can catch up with an old friend. Okay?" He gave her a small envelope and saw her onto the set.

When he came back, he was beaming at me. He took my hands and held them. His face, tan and smooth—making his light blue eyes really shine—had only gotten more handsome. I loved his hair, richly brown and well-styled. He was a very good looking man, strong and charming, as I'd always known him.

"Damn, I really can't believe you landed in modeling!" he chuckled.

"And I can't believe you're a blood-sucking agent!" I thought about playfully punching him in the arm, but decided against it. This wasn't the time or place to be flirty. My professional image was far too important. Besides, along with the fresh feelings of affection were the memories of my heart being crushed as I'd watched Damien walk off the dance floor with Ashley Biederman. Damien had destroyed me for years. How did I so quickly hug him? The knee-jerk reaction to love and forgive him had been awfully strong.

Damien licked his lips before he spoke. It gave me the impression he was nervous. Even his grin seemed a little hesitant. I suppressed a smile. "Listen," he said, "obviously I'm busy, but I'd really like to catch up with you. Why not dinner sometime this week? I'd love to treat you if you're willing."

I was more than willing to have dinner. If for no other reason than to hear an apology. Would I need to tell Rob? No ... no, of course not. Besides, we hardly had time to go out with his busy schedule. Before I'd even fully thought it through, I'd accepted Damien's invitation and set a time for Friday evening at 7PM.

"I'll pick you up," he told me.

I jumped in my car and took off feeling more excited about my future than I'd been in weeks. At home, I went all out for dinner and made a garden chicken salad. I didn't know for sure if Adrienne would be home to eat it or not, but if she was, I wanted to show her how much she'd done for me. I waited for almost a half an hour before eating without her. But it wasn't long after I'd started when a knock came at the door.

I looked through the peephole and saw Rob standing with flowers. I admit it, I was disappointed. I'd hoped Damien hadn't been able to wait to see me. "Oh my gosh!" I said when I opened the door. "You surprised me!"

Rob stood in the doorway wearing a tight Weezer t-shirt and fashionable jeans. He's a runway model with a baby face and a tall build, but he doesn't act prissy, and never effeminate. Believe me, it's rare. He's just a casual guy who got lucky in modeling. Oh, and he likes surprising me. I took the flowers and set them in an empty vase as he showed himself in. "Do you want some chicken salad?" I asked him.

"Sure," he said, seating himself.

We ate and talked. I told him I'd run into an old boyfriend today at a shoot, and Rob seemed interested, but not jealous. "Is this the guy you told me about? The one who took your cherry?"

I nodded because my mouth was full of tomato.

Rob gave me a nice smile. He has great teeth. I don't know what makes them so much better than anyone else, but I really like them. "Any old feelings come back?"

"A little bit, but more old hurt than anything," I said after I took a drink of water. Rob and I had been dating for about three months, long enough for me to know some of his silly habits. He was a picky eater, and hated peas. While listening to me, he was going through his greens with a fork combing out all the little green balls and moving them to a pile on the side of his plate. "Sorry about the peas," I added.

He smiled and shrugged. "Do you think you'll sleep with him? Or at least be tempted to?"

I had thought about that, too, and wasn't sure about the answer. But I was leaning toward no. Rob knew Adrienne and I often had sex, and he didn't mind. I wouldn't mind sharing him with A.D., but she was strictly females + Ben only. Rob had his little flings, too, but no one he brought to bed with us, and always when he was out on business in Europe and Asia doing runway work. Lucky bastard. We always talked about our flings if we had them, it was an unspoken rule. Rob's casualness about it made me like him more.

"I don't think so," was my answer. "I don't have the desire to open up old wounds."

We chatted as we finished dinner. Our conversations rarely went deep, which was how I knew this wasn't a permanent thing. But it was nice, and Rob always made good company. He helped me with dishes and then we watched an old classic. Before Rob, I'd never watched any old films, but he loved Cagney, Grant, and Chaplin. He called them the big three. So we watched The Philadelphia Story. Rob had his arm around me, and I let him play with my breast during the film. As it wound down, I stroked his cock until his jeans permanently bulged. His breathing grew more ragged, and the moment the film ended I leaned over and unbuckled his belt so I could get at him. I pulled down his briefs and his dick whipped out, slapping me in the nose.

Rob snorted into my neck as I giggled, rubbing my poor nose. Rob's manhood wasn't the biggest or the thickest, but it was respectable and flawless. He kept it shaved for his work when he had to do shoots in his underwear for Abercrombie or someone like that. I liked a shaved penis. It made blowjobs much more enjoyable. I teased the tip of his cock with my tongue, swirling around the head and flicking his slit with it. Rob leaned back his head and massaged my neck as I worked.

"Damn, Felicia, you're so good."

"Mmhmm," I said as I took the whole head in my mouth, grazing it slightly with my teeth and pulling another moan from him. "You better say that."

I bobbed my head up and down over his meaty helmet, using one of my hands to cup his balls gently. My other hand went up his shirt and played with his nipples. Rob loved that. I used my fingernails to gently scratch behind his balls as I went deeper. It wasn't too difficult to take him all the way, so I slowly worked my way down until his shaft was completely in my mouth, tickling the back of my throat. Then I went up and down quickly, slowly, then faster, changing the speed and pressure I put on his manhood.

Rob never became forceful, he was always content to lay back and enjoy. While I thought of this as a nice change from Adrienne or Ben and Dawn, I still preferred a lover who really took charge—another reason I knew we wouldn't be together in the long run. Soon I got down on my knees in between his legs. He spread them wide to give me access and I took him down to the root again, running my fingernails along his thighs. They quivered for me and I knew he was close. I brought my lips back to the head, keeping his little helmet just inside and ran my tongue all over that and his shaft.

"Fuck!" he said, and his body jerked. "Shit!"

"Cum in my mouth, baby," I told him, kneeling complacently with my mouth open and tongue out. "Paint my mouth with your sperm."

Rob leaned forward and jerked himself hard. He liked to pinch it off to build up the pressure. I waited for him with a big smile. He released his torrent of cum and let it fly. The first stream missed my mouth and went in my nose and eyes. The second sprayed a little moustache on me, and the third landed in my mouth. I took him back in my mouth and sucked any remaining cum out of him, then let him watch as I used my finger to pull the rest of his jizz into my mouth. Then I swallowed. He tasted good, not Ben good, but still a good flavor. Men who kept themselves in shape always tasted decent, except buff frat boys whose diet consists of pizza and beer.

"You're the only one who does that for me," he told me, kissing my forehead tenderly. "You're the best."

I beamed at his compliment and took him back in my mouth, working his shaft again until he got hard. Then I took off my pants and underwear and slid his cock into my pussy. I rode him on the couch facing him, leaning into him so I could kiss him. We started out slow and tender, making love with both our bodies and our lips, but I thought about Damien and something ignited in me. I rose my ass up in the air and slammed his dick into my cunt. "Fuck me hard, Rob," I ordered him. "Fuck me til I cum!"

Rob obeyed, gripping my hips and pulling them down until my skin slapped against his, over and over again in a fast paced tempo. I shoved my tongue into his mouth and let him suck on it hard until I thought he'd rip my frenum. Then I shoved his face into my tits, pulling my hips up so he could fuck me at an even quicker pace. I had two orgasms like that, squealing wildly into the top of the couch and dripping my own cum down Rob's shaft and off his balls. "Oh yeah!" Rob yelled.

I felt his shaft contract inside me and my pussy grew warm. I reached down and coaxed everything from his balls, kissing him tenderly again. The orgasms had been good, but nothing compared to what Adrienne did to me on a regular basis. And the realization hit me that I'd been thinking about Damien while making love to my boyfriend. What did that mean? I pushed the thought away for now and tried to focus on Rob, whose cum dripped with mine from my pussy down my legs.

Rob and I went to bed together that night, but he was gone when I woke. This was normal, as his schedule was much busier than mine, and I didn't have any shoots that day. I thought about going out and buying a new outfit for my date—er, dinner—with Damien, but decided against it. Money wasn't exactly flowing in at the moment. Winter tended to be a little more slow because most shoots had to be indoors, and most of the spring catalogs were already booked up. I didn't need to grocery shop or run any errands, so I made up my mind to get some deep house cleaning done early.

I started with the kitchen and front room, tackling all the tiny places and wiping down everything, especially the residual sex stains from my leather sofa. Then I moved to the bathrooms and bedrooms. While I was cleaning out under my bed, I found a box of mementos I've saved over the last several years. Inside were things like my little sack of dream dolls my dad had brought me from a trip to Guatemala, my favorite Barbies and their accessories, my first slap bracelet, and several diaries. I used to be an avid journal keeper, especially during my teenage years, like when I'd dated Damien at camp.

I pulled out the diaries and flopped down on my bed, thumbing through them until I came to summer camp almost ten years ago, when I first met Damien. My writing was silly and juvenile, but it made me chuckle. Almost everything I'd written about back then was boys, boys, boys with a few comments about friends or Daddy and Mom making my life miserable.

Then as I read the days after Damien had deserted me, I slowly realized just how strongly he'd impacted my life. I'd gone on for years using men the way he'd used me. A manipulative bitch who wanted revenge on all the penises of the world, making them suffer as I had. I thought about some of the men I'd cockteased, blueballed, and generally tortured. It wasn't really until Ben and his harem of girls had made me see sense that I'd calmed down again. I'd fucked or teased dozens of guys, and treated many of them the same way Damien had treated me. A strong feeling of gratitude to Ben welled up inside me. I'd have to remember to thank him soon for all the good he'd done in my life. Not just the incredible orgasms, but showing me the awful side of me that had to be excised.

Rob couldn't come over that night, and Adrienne texted me that she'd be spending the night with a few girls she wanted to try. I dreamt that night of Damien fucking my face and spraying me down in a shower of jizz until I drowned in it. It was both exciting and frightening, unlike anything I'd ever dreamed before, and when I woke up I was so thirsty I drank two large glasses of water so quickly it hurt my throat.

I had a quick shoot in the morning and was home by noon. Damien called me at lunch to confirm plans and get my address. His voice was like silk pouring out of the speaker on my phone and I had to force myself to remember the hurt I'd read about. It wouldn't do me any good to allow him a chance to wound me even deeper this time.

"Closure," I told myself. "It's about closure. Yes, he turns you on. Yes, he's a big part of your past, but you're doing this for a sense of closure."

That made me feel better at once. I decided on a semi-modest black skirt with a blue blouse that matched my shoes and blue pearl necklace. I went a little crazy with my lipstick, doing a blue to red blend that Trudy had taught me. It looked exotic and fantastic. Damien called to say he was on his way up just as I finished getting ready. I unlocked the door for him, and heard him knock and come in.

"Be right there," I yelled.

"Waiting for you in the living room!" he called back.

I looked myself over once more, then one more time after that. Satisfied it was my best, I went out to meet him. He turned when he heard me coming, and I put a little bounce into my walk, swinging my purse as I moved. The light in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

"Wow, Felicia..." he croaked. "Let's ... uh ... let's get going."

"Did you pick a spot for dinner?"

Damien nodded dumbly and fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket. He wore a perfectly cut sports jacket with an unbuttoned soft green shirt and tan slacks. Whoever his tailor was knew how to make a man look amazing.

"Lead the way."

We talked as he drove. He had a large Hummer with custom fittings (as he described it), but the interior was extremely nice. Wood paneling and voice activated controls that he enjoyed showing off to me. It wasn't at all practical for the parking in the city, but I think he liked feeling as if we were looking down on everyone else on the road. As I was telling him how Rob and I started dating, he pulled in to Cheetah's, a very high class restaurant that featured a dish from every major culinary culture. I swallowed hard as he parked. He'd really pulled out all the stops.

I took his offered arm as we walked inside. The host stood behind a lit podium and smiled at us as we entered. "Monsieur Santos, always a pleasure." Damien shook the host's hand warmly. "Your normal seat is waiting."

Damien thanked the host with twenty and allowed a server to show us to our seat. "So you always bring the girls to the 'normal seat?'" I teased. Damien pulled out my chair for me and then helped me push it in. He took the chair across, smiling his big sexy smile.

"Clients," he reminded me. "Or, at least, potential ones."

We sat in a dimly lit room with six or seven other couples. Most of them much older than us. A soft piano concerto played from another corner of the restaurant. I was pretty confident the composer was Chopin, but not enough to comment on it. Damien knew classical music much better than I did, as his mother had been a musician her whole life. His father a successful CEO of a medical supply company.

As soon as the opportunity came, I jumped on his comment. "So you want to represent me?"

Damien put down his menu and looked at me. "I didn't bring you here to discuss that immediately, but yes I do. I did some digging into your portfolio. I think you've got enormous potential, and haven't even begun to tap it yet. You're getting by on looks alone."

I sipped my water and stared at him over my glass. "How long have you been an agent?"

"Since I turned nineteen."

"Who do you represent?"

Damien straightened his tie and took his own sip. "The new wave of agenting is cross-marketing. Athletes getting into TV and film, musicians getting into TV and film, actors getting into music. All that kind of stuff. I handle a broad selection of talent from several different pools. I have some athletes, some bands, some soloists, several models, and a handful of actors."

"Any actors getting into sports?" I asked.

That made Damien laugh. I loved that he liked my joke. "Oh sure. Tom Cruise is expected to sign with the Giants later this year."

When our server returned with a bottle of wine and asked for our orders, I deferred to Damien's knowledge of the menu. He ordered for both of us a Thai dish that I could never pronounce, and told the server to make his extra spicy. "Do you want to talk business right now, or should we put it off?"

"How about a toast?" I asked, holding up my fresh glass of wine. "To old times."

Damien's face fell a little as he clinked his glass into mine. "Old times." The words sounded flat. "You mean what happened between us back then?"

I nodded. The pleasant expression on my face was gone. The iciness I'd felt reading my old diary returned. "I don't even know how to talk about that, Damien. I mean, it seems so silly. It was a long time ago. But it was still me and it was still you."

Damien swallowed his appetizer down with a large gulp of water. "What I did was cruel. I had met you, this beautiful, enchanting young girl. Too mature for her age. You were cute, sexy, and so happy. I was taken back, and I underestimated the depth of your feelings. I thought you just wanted to lose your virginity, and then as the summer went on and I realized how you really felt about me..." He paused to take another drink. " ... I knew I'd made a huge mistake."

"Why was it a mistake?"

"You were fourteen and talking about marrying me. Fourteen. That's crazy. Not that you're crazy," he quickly added. "But far too premature. And you probably would have come to see that, but I decided the best way to let you get over me was deeply hurting you. And so I left the dance with another girl." He looked at me sadly. "At the time, I thought it was a brilliant idea. Eighteen year olds are rarely brilliant, right?"

I had expected an apology, and had gotten a pretty damn good explanation. It didn't make me feel much better, but at least I understood. We made small talk about camp and our families until the food came. Damien had impeccable manners and waited until I'd taken a bite before tasting his own. The food was magnificent and the bottle of wine he'd ordered complimented it well.

Knowing the dangerous situation I was in, I made it a point to not drink more than I could handle. Damien didn't try to push any more alcohol on me, either. He ate much quicker than I did, and it didn't take long after he'd finished that I saw the classic male transformation from friendly mode to business mode. "So do you want to hear my pitch now?" He wiped his face with his napkin and pulled a small pamphlet out of his jacket.

"Sure, pitch away. Just don't mind me eating."

Damien smiled and said, "I have an estimate of your monthly earnings. You don't have to tell me if I'm right, but I'm guessing you make roughly nine or ten thousand a month before taxes. About fifteen shoots a month. After your agent takes his standard fifteen percent and you pay for your modeling training and other fees, you're probably left with about six-- maybe seven-- on hand to pay your bills and what not. Right?"

Impressive. Damien knew his stuff. "Now like I told you, I'm a probably one or two steps up from your agent. I can get you better shoots from the start. You'll see an immediate jump in salary to about twelve K a month, give or take a little. Let me warn you, I take twenty percent. That's standard for me, but all of my clients feel like I'm worth it. Heck, they're free to leave if they don't like it. Where I see you going after some better training and better exposure is getting on some covers, possibly even some front-runners, and then I'd like to start shopping you around to casting directors for some TV spots. Commercials and guest appearances. You know, that stuff. I can't promise you Maxim or Playboy, but I can definitely get you close. The rest is up to you."

I had stopped eating to listen, not sure if I even believed what I heard: Hefty promises. "You're serious? You really think you can do all that for me?"

Damien nodded, and I believed him. "What do you think? You're a very underrated commodity. You don't have a bad side like some of the girls out there. You can do face, legs, torso, everything. Your ass is something ninety five percent of the girls in the world would pay out the nose for, and your breasts are nearly perfect. I'm glad you're doing fashion modeling, but if you went into porn, you could probably be a millionaire in two years."

"Well, I'll pass on the porn, but I'll take the rest. My mom would kill me if I did nude modeling ... I don't know, Damien. I'm intrigued. Can I think about it?"

"Of course, take this pamphlet. Some of my clients are on there. You can call them, tell them I told you to, or don't. You know, whatever. But don't leave me waiting too long, okay?"

I took the pamphlet and glanced at it. Fingers slipped a little on the glossy pages. "I won't. I'll give it a few days and make up my mind."

Damien looked thrilled that I was even considering him. He drummed his fingers on the table. "You want dessert?"

I shot him a dirty look, and he threw his hands up helplessly. "I'd be rude if I didn't ask."

He paid and we walked back to his Hummer. The drive home was less talkative. My thoughts ran round and round. Damien was offering more, but I felt a certain loyalty to Marcos. I'd done well with him, and seventy to eighty thousand a year wasn't bad money for modeling in San Francisco. Living expenses were high. But perhaps he could help me in ways Marcos just couldn't. Maybe I'd done all I could with Marcos.

Adrienne. I needed to talk it over with Adrienne. Hopefully she'd be at the apartment tonight, though not likely. Damien stopped in front of my building. "Do you want me to see you up?" he asked. I saw the light in his eyes, and knew he wanted what every boy wants. Coming from Damien, it was the most tempting thing I'd ever seen.

I felt my own heart bang a rock tune in my chest and a smoldering heat in my pussy. It was no use denying how badly my body wanted him. The lust was strong. But I wasn't sure yet. It took a long time for me to answer, but I finally said no. Damien took it like a gentleman, and leaned in.

Please don't kiss me, I thought. If you kiss me, I'm going to give in and fuck you in the car, in the hallway, in the living room, and then again in the bedroom. Then I'll fuck you even harder in the shower, wake you up in the middle of the night for another fuck, and you'll be dead from what Adrienne likes to call "lethal fuckdom."

Damien got closer and I froze, waiting to see what he would do. Those few seconds seemed a lot more like a few minutes. Right before reaching my lips, he turned and pressed his lips against my cheek. A tiny gasp escaped me, but otherwise I held my composure fairly well. Damien's lips were hot and I could feel the tiniest prickles from his evening shadow. When he pulled away, I could only smile. "I'll get back to you soon. Thank you for dinner."

"My pleasure," Damien said. His voice made me want to force him to rape me, take me hard and fast like he used to at camp. Using my body like I loved. I got out of the car quickly and almost ran into my building feeling not at all like myself, and much more like a fourteen year old girl swept off her feet.



-------

Chapter 3: Deciding


Adrienne wasn't home after my dinner with Damien, and I ended up having to calm myself down with a small vibrator and my fingers. I thought of driving down to see Ben and have him fuck my brain into oblivion, but I kind of needed my brain intact. Instead, I called Adrienne Saturday morning, and begged her to come up so we could chat. She told me she'd be here around 5PM.

I spent the whole day stewing with a nasty anxiety, the kind that only comes from having a big decision to make and not knowing what to do. By the time Adrienne showed up, I was a wreck. She sensed it immediately. I knew this because she went straight to the cupboard, opened up a bottle of wine, and poured me a tall glass. Then she poured one for herself.

We sat on the sofa, curled up and facing each other, and I spilled everything. Adrienne listened patiently, never interrupting. When I'd finished, my glass was empty and she refilled it.

"I've heard of Damien Santos, but I never made the connection that he was YOUR Damien. And from what I've heard, the people who love him, LOVE him, and the people who leave him can't stand him. My gut reaction is to tell you what you told me, anyone who makes you big promises is usually a wolf, but Damien knows you and you're already in the business."

"Right, that's what I thought, too."

Adrienne absentmindedly swirled her wine glass as she thought. She looked beautiful in a Cal sweater and stretch pants. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and she was definitely tired. She was always tired these days. I couldn't imagine the strain that balancing a full load of classes and a budding modeling career put on her. Throw in the sordid things that Ben or her other girlfriends did to her on a nightly basis and Adrienne practically carried three full-time jobs.

"I don't know. It's gotta be your call, Felicia. Tough decision. Why not talk to Marcos about it?"

"Right..." I snorted and changed my voice to sound like I was talking on the phone. "Hey Marcos, just thinking about switching agents. What do you think?" I switched to my best Marcos voice. "Oh, I think it's a great idea--"

As soon as I put my wine glass down, Adrienne threw a pillow at me. "I get it. I get it. You like Damien, still, don't you?"

I took a deep breath and told her that I did. I even mentioned to her how I would have invited him in last night if he'd just kissed me in the car. Adrienne smiled. She understood the lustful spell I'd been under. I'd seen her several times where she could hardly control herself. Adrienne in full lust mode or lethal fuckdom was a force of nature.

"But you know what else, I realize?" I asked her. "If you hadn't been so nice as to give me that shoot, I'd have never even ran into him!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty much awesome, aren't I?"

Her playful cockiness made me laugh loudly, pushing the right buttons to make me forget my stress for a bit. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Adrienne set down her wine glass by mine. "If you want to thank me, you should know how to by now."

I launched myself at her, tackling her against the arm of the couch. Adrienne made a muffled sound of surprise. My lips mashed against hers and my hand went up her sweater to grab onto her big globes. She wore a heavy bra that I pulled down to expose her, squeezing her left tit hard, trapping her nipple between two knuckles and yanking. Adrienne cried out in pain and pleasure and I jammed my tongue into her mouth. Her lips tasted like a mint vanilla and her breath had still carried the taste of our wine.

"Fuck you, you little nymph!" she laughed as soon as she could break free. I put a second hand up her sweater and massaged both her breasts. She slid under me until she lay flat with me straddling her toned tummy.

Most girls don't really see what guys love about boobs. To most, they're just balls of fat that hang awkwardly off their chests. But I've never had that problem. The texture and weight of a breast is amazing. I lifted her sweater up until it covered her face and put a nipple in my mouth. I sucked on it hard until it grew to the size of a pencil eraser. Her areolas were dark pink and beautiful. I squeezed her breasts together and licked both nubs at the same time. Adrienne snickered as I did it.

I spent a good fifteen minutes just enjoying her breasts. I grabbed her wine glass a spilled small streams, watching them slowly roll down her massive orbs, painting little purple trails on her skin, and licking them up. Adrienne shuddered with each long stroke of my tongue.

Her hand began fumbling with my pants, and so I adjusted my hips to help her. She tugged on my drawstring hard until the knot gave and the waistband loosened. I hadn't put on any panties, and she rubbed her hand all over my pelvis, making the whole area tingle like when I was younger and put my tongue on a 9-volt battery. I continued kissing and sucking her tits while she teased my pubis, running her hands and fingers everywhere but the most sensitive areas. I kneaded her breasts and began suckling them again flicking her nubs with my tongue until I heard her coo.

Then I moved my tongue south, making a serpentine trail along her sternum and down her tummy, allowing the wine to flow that way, too. Ben taught me about Adrienne's sensitive belly button a while back. I'd never forgotten his lesson, so I paused there and fucked her little cave with my tongue, making Adrienne squirm pleasantly as I licked wine from her small natural pool. I rimmed her some more, whipping my tongue in circles around her belly button and felt her breathing pick up even more.

When I planted kisses on her mons, Adrienne held her breath and began to shake. "You're already cumming?" I teased. Adrienne belted out a laugh and shoved my head into her crotch. I did as I was told, pulling on each of her lips with my teeth while scratching her tummy and mons with my nails.

Adrienne sucked on her own fingers until they were dripping with her saliva. It was then I felt the intrusion in my pussy and ass simultaneously. Her thumb invaded my vagina, causing me to squirm in delight. When her index finger bottomed out in my much more private hole, I froze to moan my enjoyment.

"Ohh..." I hummed delightedly.

Adrienne grinned devilishly at me and began pumping furiously. It became much more difficult to concentrate on her orgasms with the sensations her fingers were giving me. I found myself humping back at her, eager to drive her digits deeper down my dark tunnels. I jammed my face and tongue into her crotch, lapping from her anus up to her clit, over and over again, savoring the flavors each crevice offered. Adrienne gritted her teeth again and came. I drove my tongue into her cunt to taste the moisture I knew she would offer, working her clit with my thumb. Adrienne whimpered again and again, each time her voice grew higher and higher in pitch.

"FUCK, Felicia!" she screamed. "Fuck me. Damn. That. Feels. So. Good!" Each word was emphasized with a slam of her pelvis into my face, bumping my chin between her ass cheeks and my tongue further into her wet slot. I shook my face back and forth until she came again, for the final time. When she finished, she leaned up and sucked my clit into her mouth and pulled on it with a strong pressure. Little lights went off in my vision like shooting stars, a bolt of amazing electricity started at my toes and shot out through my head, then I blacked out.

Several minutes later, my eyes opened and I saw Adrienne looking over me, smiling. "Holy shit, girl, you just redefined cumming."

"I did?" My head hurt a little from where I'd hit the floor.

"Yeah, you screamed like I'd never heard you before, and your eyes rolled up into the back of your head. When you hit the floor, you shook. I thought you were having a seizure at first, but I've seen Ben do the same thing to a couple other girls. Sensory overload, you know?"

I laughed and pulled her in for a long kiss. "Thanks, A.D. I needed that."

"Me too. Stress equals gone! Lethal fuckdom accomplished." She stood up and I admired her engorged lips from the floor. "Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

"No. But I feel a lot better. And I think the solution will come to me soon."

Adrienne and I both had shoots on Sunday, so we invited up Dayna and Brandi for a girls only night. They both brought a couple college friends. We watched Dirty Dancing and An Affair to Remember while sipping wine coolers and eating rice cakes. No sex. Just fun. Well, that's probably not entirely true. Dayna and Adrienne slipped out of the room for a little while, and I'd bet my life Adrienne fucked Dayna's ass with my strap on.

I got up first Sunday morning. My shoot was over an hour away and I had to be on time. I was tired and cranky, but forced myself to take something for breakfast I could eat on the way; I even left a little early just to be sure I had enough time. Traffic was terrible along the beltway, especially for a Sunday morning. No one in the Bay Area goes to church, so I thought it had to be a nasty accident. It turned out to be rather minor, but every person driving by had to slow to a crawl so they could get a good look.

"Freaking rubber neckers," I complained as I finally sped up.

By the time I arrived to the shoot, I was fifteen minutes late, and everyone on the set glared at me. Marcos had tried calling me twice on my cell, but I figured the last thing I needed was to get lost while he told me to move my butt and get to work. I slipped into my prep chair, ignoring the photographer rolling his eyes.

The makeup lady was a dumpy girl at least four years younger than me, and made snippy remarks every few minutes that were obviously directed at me. When she finished, I couldn't believe it. My face looked like crap. I asked her to fix some things and she looked at me like I'd requested a trip to the moon. At the point, I probably should have just told them all to screw themselves. The job wasn't even that good anyway. However, I stuck it out.

Worst decision ever.

The photographer was pretty new and I could tell he didn't really know how to work with a model. His requests were abstract and I couldn't give him what he wanted. He said things like, "Show me your inner waterfall" or "Give me a view of an alpine Christmas."

I wanted to shout back at him, "What in the hell are you talking about?"

He got irritated easily, which seemed to thrill the makeup girl. His lighting guy wanted to stop every five shots and adjust the shadows being thrown across the set. This easily doubled the time the shoot took which made my job that much more difficult. It's hard to act sexy when everyone around you is pissy or anal. So, naturally, the photographer never quite got the scenic-waterfall-in-the-yuletide-woods shot he wanted and griped about it while we reviewed the pictures together.

"Just whatever," he told me in his high-pitched tone I'd already come to hate, "I'll just have to make do with what I have and heavily edit them. Next time we'll get someone with more experience."

It took every bit of self-control I possessed to leave the studio without going berserk on someone. As I got into my car, I checked my messages and heard Marcos' asking me to swing by his office on my way home so we could have our monthly review.

"Great," I said to myself, "that's the last thing I need right now."

One of Marcos' terms of representation included a mandatory meeting that he was very particular about. It included a face to face session where we discussed the positives and negatives of our professional relationship and reviewed the upcoming month. He did this with every single client. I called it our Menstrual Meeting because that's how much I hated them and they happened twelve times a year, just like my period.

When I walked into his office, I could tell Marcos wasn't in a great mood, either. He looked slightly disheveled and was fidgeting with his watch. His irritable state actually gave me a small dose of pleasure, which I feel a little bad to admit.

"Hey, Felicia," he said without even looking up at me. "Take a seat. Let's talk."

"You look pissed," I commented with a healthy measurement of smarminess.

"I don't want to talk about it." His eyes flashed angrily when he glanced at me. Someone had definitely pissed him off. "I've just been looking over your schedule and think you're still underbooked. I'm going to have to sign you up with some local stuff if I can't find anything better. You just—yeah—you need more work."

I shook my head in frustration. "That isn't going to solve my problems. The pay is garbage."

"What else am I supposed to do, Felicia? I respect that you don't do nude, and I've never made it an issue, but I'm afraid you might be hitting a ceiling here. I just got off the phone with Eddie—"

"Who is Eddie?" I asked.

Marcos gave me a cold stare. "He's the photographer you just worked with."

"Great. I am never working with... 'Eddie' ... again. He's rude and terrible at communicating. His staff sucks and his place is a hole." I had plenty more to say but Marcos wasn't getting any happier the more I talked.

"Come on, Felicia! You can't be picky. You're not in that kind of a position. Eddie's an up-and-comer! So are you! I'm really trying to get you the work you want to do. Tell me you see that."

I wanted to tell Marcos I did, but all I could think of was Damien. Damien wasn't telling me about a ceiling, he believed I hadn't reached my potential. Damien wouldn't have taken the side of a drip like Eddie. I looked around Marcos' office. It was well-decorated, but not lavish. Large but not enormous. Good but not great. He had pictures on his wall of models, good models, but no one who had made it huge. Only big. I wanted to shoot for huge, and Marcos probably wasn't the guy to take me there. But Damien...

"I think we're done, Marcos," I finally said. It didn't feel good to say it, but the words came easier than I'd expected.

"Huh?" was all he had to say. The fidgeting with his watch stopped and his full attention was on me. Suddenly I was important.

"I'm going to sign with Damien Santos. He offered me a few days ago, but I hadn't decided until just now." Even the finality in my voice surprised me. I liked the confidence I was starting to feel.

"Santos? No, come on, Felicia, he's not your style. Listen, I've had a bad day. I just got dumped on by Margaret's—"

I raised my hand to stop him and stood up. "I really appreciate all you've done, but our deal was that after two years I could walk away at any time."

"That's true, but I'd like to talk a little longer." Marcos had never seemed this caught off guard, not even when I'd broken off our relationship with him.

"Thanks, Marcos. I mean that."

I left the office, leaving the door opened. My day had gotten a little better.

"Felicia, come back!" Marcos called after me, but I didn't stop. I didn't want to be rude, and I didn't need to. My decision had been made and it was final. I took the elevator to the garage tapping my feet to a song stuck in my head. As soon as I had reception, I dialed up Damien.

"Hey Felicia, what's up?" he asked in his usual smooth voice.

"I'm in. I'm signing with you."

He could practically hear him smiling over the phone, and it made me smile, too. "That's awesome, baby." His voice was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Let's get together first thing tomorrow and sign some paperwork. You won't regret it. You're going big time, hear me?"

My smile grew even bigger. A thousand daydreams chased each other in one ear and out the other, each fantastic and glorious. "Yeah, I hear you. I'm excited!"

We worked out the details on the phone as I drove home. I told him no nudity and no local stuff. "No problem, like I'd want you in that shit?" Damien even had a job for me next Thursday that another model had just declined. It paid three thousand dollars. "You think you can handle that kind of cash?"

"Oh yeah, I can handle it. I'll see you Thursday." I hung up and mentally high-fived myself all the way home. Things were looking up. And Damien was back in my life. The possibilities excited me.



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Chapter 4: Changing


Damien and I hammered out a contract over dinner at a place on the west side of San Francisco called Montgomery Servo. It was just as nice as Cheetah's, and Damien brought a guest along, one of his clients from Hollywood: Ryan Spader. I can't even say how convincing it was to see someone like Ryan, a steady B list actor, someone I knew and had heard of, sitting at a dining table with me. All doubts I'd had about Damien vanished. We laughed, drank, and cracked jokes until about 11pm when Damien ended the fun.

"Your shoot starts tomorrow at 8, baby," he told me. "I'd be a bad manager if I didn't get you into bed." Ryan chuckled lewdly at the comment, but Damien waved him off. "Not like that."

When he parked outside my apartment building, the scene felt eerily similar to the night of our first dinner together. All it would take was one move from Damien. I waited to see what he would do. The Hummer was about five hundred degrees inside, but I don't think the heater was on. Usher sang softly from the expensive speakers. Damien lingered a little longer this time before deciding what to do. Part of me enjoyed this, and part of me didn't. Then he leaned over and gently kissed my cheek. My stomach sort of dropped when he did it, even though I knew he was only doing what was best for me.

"Good night, Felicia," he said in his perfect voice. "I'm excited to be working with you."

"Me, too," I barely managed to say without my words breaking up in thick emotion. When I got out of his mammoth car, my legs trembled and wobbled up the stairs. Hot lust coursed through me, and I almost turned back to the car to rip the door off and order him to take me.

The apartment was empty and after I undressed I had to decide between masturbating or just going to sleep. I was in no mood to do the work myself, knowing that a part of me would still be unsatisfied. I finally chose to just go to sleep, but the night was fitful and I had the same dream of showering and drowning in Damien's cum, this time, however, I could taste his spunk, a mixture of lemon and cream. When I awoke, however, my panties were soaked, and I had rubbed my clit raw.

Part of my new contract had stipulated that I wanted to work with James whenever possible. Out of sheer luck, Damien had managed to get James to squeeze me in for my Thursday shoot. The product for the day was a new perfume by Calvin Klein called Furious.

They wanted an erotic pose to go in the magazines with the fold out sample page in Vogue and several other fashion magazines. The advertising firm had also selected a male model to be in the pictures with me. James had to take enough different poses for seventeen layouts, which usually meant a three or four hour session.

The male model came out and introduced himself as Rick. I'd seen him before in a couple of layouts, but never in person. He stood close to 6'5 or 6'6 and looked like an undiscovered Fabio with shorter hair. Trudy had put body make up on him to cover his barb-wire tattoos after he'd spent about ten minutes lifting weights. He looked very good. They dressed me in a sheer, tight lacy costume with flames going every which way and Trudy gave me skin-tone pasties to cover my nipples and a nude-colored thong. My bright orange and red eye makeup brought out my eyes, and what can I say? When I girl is dressed in fire, she feels hot.

We started the shoot in a pose with me locking hands behind Rick's neck and giving him the come-get me look. James shot the pose from every angle imaginable and consulted with the marketing firm rep before giving us new orders. Every twenty or thirty minutes, Rick had to go pump iron to keep his muscles looking huge.

"Okay, that's the picture they'll use for the younger-aged stuff like Seventeen, now they want more sultry." James posed us again, this time with my back pressed against Rick's chest, my breasts thrust out and my legs poised in an alluring, weak-kneed way. Fifty shots of that, then Rick lifted weights, then a new pose.

During our third pose, Damien came into the studio to observe. He saw Trudy and introduced himself to her while I watched him. I didn't know if he knew I was watching, but between Rick holding me tightly against him, his hand firmly pressing my ass, his thigh incidentally rubbing my pussy lips, and Damien on the scene, I started to get a little warm ... down there. James' camera clicked away madly and I stared it down, trying not to think about all the sensations getting my drive going.

"Very nice, Felicia," James said, "You're giving me some excellent looks."

I glanced over at Damien who flashed me smile with a thumbs-up. This only fueled my fire. We did another shot, this time Rick lay down and I was on top of him, our legs intertwined and our lips an inch apart. The heat in my loins grew as I thought about Rick's massive body pressing against me, smothering me, encompassing me.

"Great chemistry, you two!" James said. "Turn your head a little, Felicia. Perfect. Just like that."

My eyes were locked with Rick's and my I felt moisture in my thong and something pressing slightly against my belly from the area of Rick's groin. He and both shared a smile. It wasn't the first time a man had gotten hard on me during a shoot, and wouldn't be the last, but I'd never spotted my underwear before, and I knew he could feel the heat coming from between my legs.

"Going well, I'd say, wouldn't you?" he breathed at me in his Australian accent.

I chuckled, my smile growing. James loved it. Our next pose was Rick on top of me, his body stretched out like an athlete so he didn't smother me, his knee resting between my legs with just enough pressure to keep me in a permanent state of sexual frustration. It would be completely unprofessional to try to give myself an orgasm during a shoot, but that didn't stop me from hoping he would somehow give me one.

The minutes ticked by and with it, so did my fever-pitch state. Droplets of sweat had formed across my brow and my cheeks were flushed. Damien stayed through the whole shoot and came over to James' computer to review the shots with me, Rick, James, and the ad rep. The ad rep was pleased and thanked me and Rick for showing great chemistry. He and Rick left at the same time. James was going through them and marking ones that needed editing.

"Not bad," Damien said. "Some room for improvement, but I really like what I see here."

James glanced back, slightly annoyed at Damien's half-praise. "These are some of the best shots I've seen you give me," he told me. "High quality stuff."

I beamed at both the compliments. Even I could see the difference in the intensity of the scenes.

"No, you're right," Damien told James, sliding a welcome arm over my shoulders. "They're phenomenal and certainly outdo any perfume ad. But if she wants to be on Swimsuit or Horacio's, we're going to need to ramp it up another couple of levels." His expression as he spoke was confident. "We're gonna get you there, don't worry, baby."

James drummed his fingers on the computer table. Damien couldn't see his face, but I could, and I could tell James was biting his tongue. Clearly he thought these pictures were better quality than Damien gave them credit for. I guessed that reality lay somewhere in between their opinions. Either way, the situation was funny to me. Damien squeezed my shoulder and took me to the changing room. While I was inside putting my street clothes back on he said, "What did you think? Was that your best?"

I answered him truthfully. "I don't know. How am I supposed to know what my best is?"

"Well, in a pose like that, I guess it's when all of your energy is focused on fucking your partner through your eyes and body position, right?"

He made an interesting point. I winced as I pulled the pasties off my nipples. Getting stiff as rocks hadn't helped their cause. I put on my underwear, blouse, and pants. Damien checked me out as I exited the room. "You know what I'm thinking?"

"What?" I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking.

"You were so beautiful at fourteen, but so underdeveloped. If I'd known back then what you'd look like now, I never would have walked off the dance floor with Ashley Biederman."

I swallowed hard and tensed as I pondered the ramifications of his words. Damien's light brown complexion made his lips very red, especially complimented by his bleach-white teeth. His smile was perfection. Not a hair stood out of place. He looked ... amazing. Again, I wanted him to just take me.

"I don't date my clients, Felicia, not yet anyway, but I do want to see you succeed. I think I can help you. My methods, though, are unconventional."

"What does that mean?" I asked him. My voice was breathy and I trembled just as badly as I had the night of our last dinner.

"Do you trust me?" His brownish blue eyes bored deep into mine, searching my darkest places and seeing everything he'd already known was there from our torrid love sessions back at camp when I was only a fourteen-year-old girl.

"I think I do," was my answer. I had to force myself to not bite my lips.

He whipped a business card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "That's my address. Come there tomorrow night at 9pm. Don't ask any questions, and don't question anything I ask. If you can do that, I'll be able to give you what you need to get ahead."

I took the card with a zillion questions in my mind. But he'd told me not to ask any, so I kept my mouth closed. Part of me knew whatever he had in mind involved some level of sexual contact between us. I didn't know what, but I was far too curious to not find out. My shoot had gone well. James had loved my pictures. Damien liked them, too, and he had a mysterious tutoring session with me in one day. But I knew that the extra oomph had come when Damien arrived at the shoot. He had that effect on me.

Before I left for his place that Friday night, I made sure to leave a message with Adrienne telling her where I was going and what time to expect me back. Yes, I trusted Damien, but I'd seen enough in this business to know that a girl can't be too careful, even when she thinks she's going into a safe situation. The last thing I wanted was Ben coming to my rescue like half of the girls in his life needed. I put on a tight red dress with a high cut just below my ass and a low cut showing off ample cleavage.

Yes, I looked like a slut—a hot slut—but I was beyond caring. I wanted Damien. If my dress, stilettos, and skimpy underwear didn't show him that, I had no chance.

It was a cool night and my legs were freezing during the walk from my car to his apartment building. He lived in a tall complex in a very nice area in the northern most part of the city. I punched in the code he'd written down and took an elevator up to the top floor. The carpets smelled rich and new and there weren't many doors on the floor, so I knew he must live in a sprawling penthouse. Damien did well for himself, but he also came from big money.

I knocked on the door and waited. My whole body was filled with a giddy energy. I could hardly stand still. I had a certain knowledge that the man who had taken my virginity, had dominated me sexually and taught me the ropes, would be doing so again tonight. I heard his steps approaching the door. Three different locks clicked before it swung open. No one was there to welcome me. I couldn't see anything inside, but the door stood wide open for me.

I walked in blindly.

It was very quiet. I had taken maybe four steps through the door when it slammed shut behind me, causing me to scream. A hand clapped over my mouth. When I breathed in through my nostrils, I felt a small tube in my nose and something else. Coke. I'd done a little coke before at a couple parties, so I knew what it was. Pure energy shot through my body. I leaned forward as the high hit me and smelled Damien. His scent calmed me. His lips pressed right next to my ear, breathing air so hot on my skin I thought it might melt me.

"Don't speak tonight," he whispered to me.

His hands expertly worked the straps of my dress until it slipped off my arms. Then, with one hard yank, the red cloth pooled around my feet. I stood in my underwear and heels panting, warmed only by Damien's fiery breath on my body. I could see nothing, say nothing, only hear and smell and hopefully taste. A cold point scraped along my back until I felt my bra slacken in tightness and fall from me. The same thing happened to my thong. Then I heard him set down the blade with which he'd cut my intimates off.

His soft hands roughly mauled my breasts from behind. His body pressed into my back and I realized then that he was as naked as me. His lips left my ear and suckled on my neck, licking and nibbling it. His cock jabbed firmly into my asscheek and made me want to grab it. Every nerve ending in my body fired off impulses, leaving me wondering how much longer I could take this kind of stimulation. He pinched my nipples to lead me away from the door, deeper into the darkness of his apartment. I saw no clock lights, no window light, only a blinking red light that reminded me of my mom's oven timer.

With incredible strength, Damien spun me around and kissed me furiously. My tongue darted out to meet his, savoring the taste I'd known as a girl. His cock had flattened out against my stomach, but reached higher than I'd have guessed. My hand ventured down to explore it, and I grasped his shaft, stroking down its entire length. I couldn't believe how large Damien was! He hadn't been this big at age eighteen. The width of my hand spanned only half the length of his gigantic spear. I groaned as I thought of taking it inside me. I continued stroking it until I guessed the length to be at almost nine inches and thicker than any other penis I'd taken inside me. I cupped his balls and pulled gently on his sac, reacquainting myself with his large testicles while our tongues rubbed and danced against each other.

When I came up to breathe, he put his hands on my shoulders and firmly guided me down to his cock. He held it with one hand while the other kept my head in place by holding my hair and he gently whipped my face with it. This was the Damien I'd known, the young man who'd so easily taken control of me and taught me the pleasure of submitting myself to his wishes, always rewarding me with incredible ecstasy.

He pushed my mouth onto his shaft and allowed me to dictate my own speed and depth. I doubted I could get all nine inches into my mouth, but I could certainly try. I licked his shaft, coating it thickly in my saliva, taking time to suck each walnut sized testicle into my mouth and then sucked both of them together. I lifted his massive cock up and tickled behind his balls with my tongue, reach near to his asshole. He groaned as I did it, so I kept it up for almost a minute. With his dick nice and wet, I sucked the helmet into my mouth and stroked his shaft slowly.

"Good girl," he muttered, now beginning to sway his hips toward me a little. Each time I bobbed down, I took a little more until a good six inches were in my mouth, his tip pressing against my tonsils. "Very good," he added, thrusting a little harder.

I'd deep-throated others in the past. Ben, for instance, had a cock almost as big as Damien's, and I'd managed it, but Damien's extra inch was going to be quite a challenge. I could tell he wanted me to, so I relaxed my jaw and throat, breathing solely through my nose. Damien began to lean forward, putting his weight on my jaw. Gradually his cock went down my throat, about a half inch every few seconds. At some point my airway was cut off but I had plenty of reserves. Damien groaned loudly as he finally bottomed out, all nine or so inches down my mouth and throat. When he pulled out, I gasped for air and felt a torrent of my saliva escape my tired mouth, which hung open.

"Fuck, Felicia, you're amazing. You're going to be incredible tonight."

I didn't have time to think about his words before he held up my head in his hands and slipped his meat back in my mouth. Everything went a bit easier, easy enough for him to get a good pace and bottom out with almost every thrust. I tightened my throat and jaw muscles as he entered to provide good friction. As his pace picked up, I inserted two fingers into my cunt and used my palm to stimulate my clit. Damien's breathing quickened and his pace became almost brutal. I knew I'd have a sore throat tomorrow, but I didn't care. All that seemed important right now was making Damien happy. With one last thrust, almost knocking me backwards, his cum shot out of his dick, coating the back of my mouth. He pulled out, leaving along my tongue another stream which he trailed along my face and neck. His last two ropes of cum I felt sliding down my tits like streams of boiling lava.

"You are so beautiful, Felicia," he said in a tender voice. "I don't even need to see you right now to know that."

I wanted to say, "Anything for you," but remembered he didn't want me to say a word. I took his limp, but still long shaft in my hand and kissed it reverently. I slid it over my face to pick up the cum oozing down my skin and then let my tongue lap up the remnants of his spending. He tasted a lot like Ben, sweet with only a hint of salt. No bitterness at all. I jerked his prick while keeping pressure on his head. He didn't take long to revive.

"It's time for you to show your trust in me, Felicia," he told me, his voice less casual now. A jolt of both fear and excitement hit me as he helped me off my knees and led me through the pitch dark of his apartment. I thought I heard sounds of movement elsewhere, but wasn't sure. I didn't want to try to look around when Damien was guiding me.

Suddenly he stopped and took my arms in his hands and brought them up over my head. Two rings were attached to the ceiling, hanging down on wire or rope suspensions. "Hold those," he said. "Don't let go."

I did as he asked, wondering where it all would lead. The same noises I'd heard a minute before continued, and now I was sure I heard someone else. Don't ask questions, he'd told me. Once I had a good grip, Damien lifted up my legs, forcing them into a straddling position. My slot was so lubricated already, he easily slid into it without stopping until he hit bottom.

I moaned loudly, feeling fuller than I'd ever felt. His hands gripped my ass tightly.

Damien chuckled a bit and kissed me hard. "I've grown, baby. Are you ready?"

I was about to answer him when another soft male voice answered. "Yep. Ready."

I turned my head to see who it was, but it was still too dark to make out a face. The question was on the tip of my tongue when I remembered Damien's admonition yet again. Something pressed against my anus, cold and hard, surprising me. I gasped loudly at the intrusion, suspended in midair and unable to do anything but accept. Coldness and wetness filled my anal chute, but it wasn't terribly unpleasant as I'd expected. When it withdrew, I knew what was going to happen.

"Oh fuck," I cried out, unable to stop myself from speaking.

"Sh..." Damien said in my ear. "Just focus on the sensations."

The second penis pressed against my sphincter, stretching my body in ways I'd never experienced before. With Damien's monster cock already occupying a large portion of my body's cavity, I had little room to spare...

"UH!" I yelled as the second man pushed in. But I wanted to scream out, "FUCK that's BIG!" The second penis had to be almost as big as Ben's. It wasn't bigger than anything I'd had in there before, but it was the biggest I'd had while being penetrated from the front.

The man grunted as he shoved more of his length into me. Damien stood in front of me calmly holding my legs, supporting enough of me to take the pressure off my arms.

"OH!" He was at least half in me.

"Fuck," Damien said, "Just shove it—"

The man didn't hesitate. His cock jammed forward, impaling me like a rag doll. They gave me a moment to get used to this stuffed sensation, but I didn't think I'd ever grow accustomed. Then Damien started pumping. The man opposite him did the same. The double penetration was the most amazing sensation I'd ever felt. Damien supported my weight with only one hand so he could work my clit. I came after only a minute, tightening my legs around him to trap his cock inside me, grunting lewdly like a wild beast.

As they picked up their intensity, my body seemed to be floating on a euphoric ocean, each wave passing under me was like a small orgasm, broken in sequence by the large ones that ripped reality away from me for several seconds, only to have it tempered by a new smaller climax. I screamed obscenities at both of them as they fucked me like machines. At some point, I don't know when, Damien let go of me and left me to support myself. I hung there, dangling between these two well-hung men like a little fuck toy as they sawed their cocks in and out of my holes. The energy needed to hold my weight and still slam my own pelvis against their cocks came from some unknown depth inside of me. I had abandoned my humanity and embraced some internal animal waiting dormant inside.

After what I believe was eight powerful climaxes and dozens of smaller ones, the man fucking my ass pulled out. "I'm going to cum!" he hollered. I recognized his voice in that moment, but my brain was so strung out on a sexual high that I couldn't place it. Damien told me to let go of the rings, and it was only with reluctance that I did so, despite the burning I immediately felt in my arms. They knelt me on the ground and I could hear them jacking off in front of me. My arms hung limply to my side, my pussy and ass burned with pleasure and pain. I heard their grunting as they came, felt the splash of hot spunk hit me all over my face. Damien's load was somehow bigger than the first one, like the shower drenching me in my dreams. I tried to catch it all, not knowing what splatter came from which man, as far as I was concerned, it was all from Damien. When they finished, I stuffed their cocks into my mouth, cleaning every inch of them.

"Rub the cum into your skin," Damien told me.

I obeyed without hesitation. I smeared their seed all over my face while they slapped me with their cocks until they grew hard again. Damien, or perhaps the other man, then picked me up and carried me to a bed.

"Get on all fours."

I did as I was told, eagerly anticipating what was coming next. They fucked me more. They fucked me for at least an hour longer. Most of the time they switched out, fucking my pussy, then my ass, then mouth, sometimes they did both at the same time, sometimes not. They never came inside me, always in my mouth or on my tits. I swallowed at least two loads of cum and three more were rubbed into my skin. The lights never came on except for the flashing red light that followed us everywhere we went. When they were done, Damien handed me my red dress in the dark, guided me to the door, and told me to think about what we'd done. Then he left me outside his room in the blinding light standing stark naked holding my dress.

I pulled the clothing on me and stumbled back to my car, not caring that I must look like the world's biggest slut. I had experienced such incredible orgasms that I would have done it all again. Damien knew exactly how I wanted to be treated. I didn't know yet what this meant for our relationship, if we even had one, but it strangely left me wanting more. I was more of sexual being than I'd ever felt before. The coke I'd snorted hadn't completely worn off yet, and I sensed in all of this sexual madness some deeper plan of Damien's to help me tap into my sexual center. Perhaps this was how I was going to find IT.OSL: Felicia by bluedragon (bluedragonauthor@yahoo.com) written by SR



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Part II

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Chapter 5: Transforming


I slept for about twelve hours. It doesn't happen very often, but I had a night shoot the next day. I only get night shoots when a photographer wants a specific effect that can't be done in a dark studio, but I'm okay with that, they pay more.

Damien called me in the afternoon. It was a very odd conversation. His tone made me feel like nothing at all had happened last night, even though he directly mentioned it. He told me that he had thoroughly enjoyed himself and hoped I had, too. Then he hinted that he may stop by my shoot to see how things go. When I got up, I almost immediately hit the floor. My legs were jelly and my arms were worse. I've never experienced soreness in my arms like that day. Also, as I'd suspected, my throat felt like someone had tried to shove a bat down it, and my crotch and anus burned.

I showered after our phone conversation, and it hit me as I dried my hair that I'd better talk to Rob. The second he answered, I could tell he was busy. I heard lots of background noises through the phone, including loud trance music.

"What's up, girly?" he asked. His voice was tense as he tried to speak over all the sound.

"Not much. Can we do dinner? I need to talk to you about stuff."

"Uh..." The pause on his end was long and all I heard was more voices and a rhythmic thudding. "I'm in LA in the middle of a big rehearsal for the fashion show tomorrow. What time would you want to get together?"

"My shoot tonight is at 7:30. Maybe after?"

Rob seemed very distracted. I could totally relate. I hated trying to talk to people with a studio executive or photographer breathing down my neck. "Yeah—yeah give me a call as soon as you're done, and I'll make it work."

"Okay, bye." I exhaled deeply as I hung up. My relationship with Rob was over in ... I checked my watch ... ten hours and counting. I didn't think he'd be too upset, but it'd been a nice thing. We never got in each other's way. We weren't possessive. We liked the same movies. Like I said, it'd been a nice thing. I realized then that I'd probably miss him more than I'd suspected. He treated me well, and that counted for a lot.

"Oh well," I told myself. "That's how they go."

I went to make lunch and discovered I was nearly out of food. Technically it was Adrienne's turn to shop, but she was almost never around to do it. By the time I got back from the store and lugged all my groceries up the steps, I only had a few hours to make dinner, eat it, and get to the shoot. Life as a model.

It's almost impossible to see stars in San Francisco, even on a clear night. The night was beautiful for the fall and the moon was big and low. Perfect conditions for the shoot. The make-shift set was on the roof of a parking garage. A large, burly photographer who looked like he shouldn't even know how to work a camera introduced himself as Frankie and showed me to a little cubicle set up with lights for my makeup. A thirty something girl with a stick-like body named Rachel did my hair and face. We chatted over the sound of the heater that whirred at my feet to make sure I was warm. She said she'd worked with Trudy a couple of times at fashion shows and picked up several tips from her. When I paid close attention, I could see some of Trudy's technique had rubbed off on her.

They dressed me in a blue-sequined evening gown with matching eye and lip embellishments. Another girl who I'd worked with once before right when I got started in the business, Patrice, a stunning black girl from Fresno, had been dressed and painted in similar fashion, only her outfit was a brilliant red. Fire and Ice, a huge new hair care line by Nada Hair Products launching next month. As Patrice and I were getting our final touches put on, I heard the advertising directors talking to Frankie.

"We want this really sexy," one of them told Frankie. "Really sexy. You know the Axe deodorant ads? We want to make those look tame. Kids and adults had better be having orgasms when they see the Fire and Ice ads. We want them looking at the pictures, rushing to the computer to jerk off to porn, and then going back to whatever they were doing. Get it? Fire and Ice equals orgasm equals happiness equals Mom and Dad better open their fucking wallets and buy me some orgasm in a bottle. That's what we want."

Frankie just kept nodding and telling them he understood while they kept talking in this vein. They waved us over and played with the lights.

"Orgasm in a bottle, huh?" Patrice whispered to me, with a silly grin. "I'd buy that. Wouldn't you?"

"You betcha," I answered.

The shoot began soon after the directors calmed down enough to let Frankie do his job. He toyed around with us in several poses, facing each other, facing the camera, grinning, scowling, smirking, but nothing he did made the directors happy. Patrice and I watched them argue, adding in our own dialog since we couldn't hear them all the time.

"Do either of you have a problem with kissing a girl?" Frankie finally asked us.

I looked quizzically at Patrice. I sure didn't. She grabbed my head and planted a soft kiss on my lips. Then we both laughed.

Frankie chuckled, too. "Okay, let's play around with that."

Patrice and I kissed in a few more positions, first lightly kissing, then practically full-on making out. The directors and Frankie watched us with more than casual interest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two of the directors have to adjust themselves. Frankie's camera caught everything. Kissing Patrice made me think of last night with Damien. She had incredibly soft lips, full like Dawn and Dayna's, but my thoughts reverted back to Damien and his friend roughly using me the night before. Kissing her made me feel like an innocent and yet terribly naughty fourteen year old girl again.

"Hot stuff, Felicia. Hot stuff!" Frankie's camera recorded everything. "Look at me now, girls. Damn, you're cooking me, Felicia! You're cooking me!"

Patrice turned my head back toward her and pressed herself into me. I felt myself getting wet as she directed my movements, controlled me in a way. Without thinking about the shoot, my tongue went into her mouth, and she accepted. One of the directors murmured that he liked where this was going, and Frankie yelled some more about how he was getting burned. Patrice ran her hands down my ass and I squeezed her tighter.

By the time Frankie called for a break, both she and I were panting for air. Two of the directors were clapping. Rachel touched us up and then we were back on the set for another round. Some of the poses Frankie put us in were extremely suggestive of us going down on each other while others were more tame. None of them got quite as heated as the shots of us making out.

"Wow!" Frankie said when the shoot was over. "Great stuff. I don't need to look at these to know that we're wrapped up. I'll even send you both free proofs. This is just torching me!"

The directors thanked us, and one of them gave me his business card with his personal phone number. That's like giving gold to a girl in the modeling business. Contacts are key. As Patrice and I changed back into our regular clothes, I said, "You know, a friend and I get together sometimes for a girls night, if—"

"I'd love to." Patrice shot me a wink and kissed me on the cheek as she walked out.

I hurried home and called Rob on the way. He drove over and met me in the parking lot. I thought for sure he'd see what was happening on my face or in my voice as we went upstairs, but I don't think he had a clue. He talked to me the whole way about how awful the rehearsal had been and how he couldn't wait to get out of there. When I closed the door to my apartment, he kissed me so fiercely that it caught me off guard and momentarily swept away my thoughts.

"Wait, wait." I broke off the kiss and stepped back. "I need to tell you that I think our relationship is over."

Rob looked crestfallen. His keys fell to the floor and he sat in one of the chairs at my dining table. "Serious? Is this coming because of me?"

This was going to be A LOT worse than I'd thought.

"Am I not treating you how you feel like you need to be, because if so, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I decided I wasn't giving you all of me. All that you deserve. I wanted to tell you tonight that I plan to step up our relationship and really show you how much I care about you."

Shit. There weren't many words to describe how awkward the silence was between me and Rob after he told me all that, but even after listening, I still knew that I wanted to break off our relationship. I think he sensed this, and probably much more because the next thing he said was: "You and that Damien guy slept together, didn't you?"

I told him that we had.

"And you plan to start something with him?"

"I don't know," I said as I sat down in the next chair. "I can't really—I don't know. What happened wasn't what I expected."

Rob looked at me with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand."

"It's not something we should discuss." At this point, I just wanted him to leave, but Rob didn't look like he was going anywhere.

"After all I just told you ... help me know at least what's going on."

The clock above my microwave chimed 10:30pm. I'd made a stupid decision to try to break this off with Rob tonight. What had I been thinking? Rob crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, waiting for me to tell him. I got up for a glass of wine.

"I went over there last night knowing we would have sex."

"How did you know?" Rob asked.

"I just knew. And we did. And even now, when I think about it, I know it will happen again, and I don't think I could continue our relationship while having a sexual one with him as well."

Rob shook his head and stood. I thought he was going to leave, but instead he got himself a glass of wine. "We've always been honest about screwing around. You fuck Adrienne more than you fuck me. I don't get it. What's so different about Damien? You said he treated you like shit."

I didn't want to answer his question, but I felt I owed it to him. "I can't explain it, but I know that the things Damien and I will be doing will make you less interested in me."

Rob's expression turned suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Tell me, Felicia. What do you mean?" I'd never seen Rob angry before, but he was now.

My breathing was ragged, both excited and nervous. Reliving the previous night was somewhat thrilling, talking about it even more so. "Damien had a friend there last night. They both fucked me at the same time. They came all over me several times after fucking me in every position they could. I—I loved it, Rob. I know you'll think I'm sick or whatever, but I loved it. When I lost my virginity to Damien, he dominated me, spanked me, used me ... and I enjoyed it just as much then, too. I guess I'm just programmed to need a certain kind of sex."

Rob regarded me with disgust. For a fleeting moment, I saw myself as he saw me, but I also remembered how much pleasure I'd experienced. He stood again, pushing his glass away as though even the wine in my house was contaminated with filth.

"You let two guys fuck you at once. Do you even know who the other guy was?"

The thrill in my voice was gone, and all that remained was a hollow embarrassment. Perhaps even a fake embarrassment that I knew Rob wanted to see. "I—I think so, but I couldn't see him."

"You need help. Goodbye, Felicia." He threw open the door to my apartment before I could say anything.

"Wait!" I called to him as he left, but he didn't stop.

The door slammed shut, and I thought I should cry, but I didn't feel sad. Only relief.

A new chapter of my life began. New gigs and shoots came more frequently. I loved the work. It was great to be busier than ever. Each week came and went with me having about seven shoots on average, never less than five and only once more than eight in a week.

Damien invited me over to his apartment about once a week, usually on Fridays, and the routine was never really the same except that the lights were always off, he always led me through the dark, and I always saw a red flashing light. Most times a friend was there, sometimes I could tell it was someone else. Sometimes I was stood up, tied to the bed, or put in a stock. It didn't matter exactly what they did, just as long as I never knew what to expect as I took the elevator up to his apartment almost weekly. They never treated me too roughly, but always used my body in the way that Damien had taught me years ago, the way Ben and Dawn and Adrienne had reinforced as well. Each visit to Damien's apartment was gloriously orgasmic.

Damien regularly visited my shoots, at least two a week. During the third week under his contract, he pulled me aside in the middle of a session and taught me his "rules." I'd been in a rut after being hit with a new pace of work. My photographers and advertising managers were more demanding, plus I got fucked out of my mind several hours a week, and the toll soon showed. My energy was down, even though my confidence hadn't been higher.

"You look wasted," Damien told me in privacy that day. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said. Yeah, I felt an ache in every bone in my body, but I didn't want Damien to think I couldn't handle the workload he'd given me. "Seriously, Damien, I'm great."

"You don't look great out there today. You look bored. Girls who look bored don't move up. You need that edge. Take some coke."

"I don't need it, Damien. I'm fine. I'm not getting hooked on that shit. I'm cool taking it when we get together--"

Damien cut me off right there. He didn't like me talking about our get-togethers in public. It wasn't professional. His hand searched through his inside jacket and retrieved a tube of Chap-stick from its depths. He unscrewed the lid and pulled off a phony covering.

"Here," he said, extending the blow to me with a small straw. "You just need a bit. That's rule one. Always take the same amount. Got it? If you obey that rule, you won't become a junkie. Rule two. Never more than three times a month. Never. Rule three. Never buy it on your own. Get it from me. That way I can make sure I know how much you get. It's simple and easy. You won't get hooked."

"But I don't want it now," I repeated. "I'm fine."

"You don't want it, but you need it to perform."

I saw his eyes. He wasn't taking no for an answer.

"One snort."

I picked up the straw and bent, snorting it up my left nostril. Fire shot through my brain and then down to my body. All trace of fatigue evaporate like water in a microwave. I rubbed my nose to get rid of the sensation and looked Damien. He surveyed me with a smile.

"See?" he said. After putting away the coke, he pulled me into a hug and gave me a tender kiss on the cheek. "You'll do great. Go get it. If you have an amazing shoot, I'll call you tonight with a surprise."

I giggled in response and kissed him back on the cheek. "Okay, I'm going to be better than amazing. I'm going to be fucksational!" That was the coke talking.

After the shoot ended, Damien came up to me. "WOW! You were so damn hot, lady. So damn hot I had to take off my jacket. I'm going the extra mile for you, girl. I'm going to give you a night you'll never forget."

I watched him as he left the set. Already my pussy was wet and my legs wobbly.

It was one of those days that crawls by. The kind where you're always watching the clock, and you watch it so closely it seems to never move. In my experience, those are always the worst days but the best nights.

I got a text around 9PM and jogged to my car, shooting out of the parking lot like a cabby trying to earn a big tip. The ride seemed to take forever, even though I was driving on average ten miles per hour over the speed limit. With San Francisco cops the way they are, it's amazing I didn't get pulled over. When I reached his parking garage, I pulled into a visitor's spot, slammed on the brakes, and hurried to the elevator. It was the slowest elevator ride of my life, wondering what waited for me, after having experienced the sensations Damien had to offer me.

I paused before knocking on the door. A sign had been posted on it: REMOVE YOUR SHOES. I took them off and the door opened under my touch. My stepped down on rose petals. A huge grin lit up my face. I hadn't walked on rose petals since my high school prom. "Stop," Damien's voice commanded from the darkness. I froze in place.

I heard him approach me. His hand slid around my neck and gripped it gently as he leaned over me, closing the door and at the same time suckling my ear. When the door snapped shut, enveloping me in total darkness as I was now accustomed, I felt handcuffs enclose over my wrists, pinning them behind me. Next, he slid a ball gag into my mouth. It was larger than anything Adrienne had ever put in me. He helped me to my knees and I felt my skin pressing rose petals into the carpet and deeply smelled their lovely scent. A soft opera played in the background, two male voices singing a high-pitch duet. Behind me, I heard Damien lay on the floor, and when he settled he pulled me toward him.

"I'm so proud of you, Felicia. You're doing great. It's only going to get better from here, you know that, right?" His soothed me and lifted my soul. "You know I'm going to take care of you."

He pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around me, holding me, while I was perfectly helpless to do nothing but lay on him and let him kiss me passionately on the face, neck, and shoulder. He did this for several minutes. Our noses brushed each others' back and forth, our breath was hot on each others' skin. Soon, he slid a hand down and dipped his finger into my warm tunnel, pumping it in and out, coaxing my moisture out to lubricate his passing. When I had grown as wet as he knew I could, he withdrew his finger and coated my lips with a sampling of my own juices. I knew the scent well and welcomed it.

I felt the head of his penis pushing for entrance and lifted my hips to greet him. Then a second pair of hands gripped me from behind, startling me, making me jump. I'd thought we were alone, and the idea of someone else here disappointed me. One of the hands spanked my asscheek and I cried out in pleasure and shock, but not pain.

Just as Damien plunged himself into my wet folds, a second cock forced its way into my unlubricated ass, painfully pushing through until he reached the bottom. It was Damien's friend. I'd gotten to know his style quite well. I knew that in time my ass would produce some secretions to allow a smoother passage for him, but by that point my mind would be too far removed from reality to care.

The two large rods worked in and out of me, stretching my pussy and ass as they furiously plowed my insides. Damien was particularly eager tonight, slamming his hips up into me with an animal-like intensity I'd rarely felt. My clit wasn't getting much contact in this position, so the build-up to an orgasm was slower, but that often meant a larger payout in the end. Unable to do much with my arms or torso, I lay against him, listening to his heart pound in his chest.

Suddenly, a third pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and lifted me up off of Damien's body, tilting me upward so my vagina and ass were still accessible to Damien and his friend's cocks. The hands were large and powerful and he lifted me up almost three feet and held me there.

"Suck my cock, bitch," his gruff voice ordered as he pulled the gag out of my mouth.

I obediently opened my mouth (or rather, let it hang open) and his large meat slid its way in. It wasn't as big as Damien's or his friend's probably slightly longer than average, but certainly thick. I tried to bob my head, but had no real control over my position, so the man simply rocked his hips and fucked my mouth. I worked hard to close my lips over the head of his dick each time he pulled out, but the combined sensations of the cocks in my ass and pussy were beginning to take their toll. My cunt was leaking juices like a slow stream and my ass clenched tightly around the second man's pole. I felt my hips beginning to jerk uncontrollably, and my ass spasms quickened.

"Fuck," Damien's friend said, "She's doing that thing again! Oh yeah!" He pulled his cock almost all the way out and slammed it back in my gaping ass.

"OH!" I cried through a mouthful of dick. A decent orgasm rocked me as my clit rubbed against Damien's cock from the force of the shove. My cries were muffled around the thick spear fucking my face. I redoubled my efforts on the third penis, and the gruff voice urged me on.

"Suck my whole meat, whore. Take it all!" He threw every line at me he'd ever heard from a porn film. "That's a good fucking bitch. You love that big cock in your mouth."

Damien let out a long growl and his pelvis drove into me at a speed so fast I couldn't tell his thrusts apart. The hammering sent a vibrating sensation through my clit and up my body. His lips found one of my breasts and clamped down on my nipple. Explosions went off in front my eyes and I screamed.

"FUCKING A!" the gruff man hollered. I felt his warm spunk splash into my mouth and against my throat. I'd never felt so much jizz from one cock before. I yanked it out my sputtering mouth as I swallowed everything my blissful mind told me to. Another large stream hit my face, starting at my forehead and running over my eyes and nose.

"Move it or lose it, Fra--" the second voice said, then stopped abruptly. The cock in my ass pulled out and I heard him walk over to my head. The second man's cock forced its way into my mouth, emptying more spunk into it. I tried to gulp this down as well as I felt the third man try to stuff his semi-flaccid cock deep into my anal chute.

"Get her up!" Damien said, scooting out from underneath me. The man behind me pulled until I was kneeling upright, and I heard Damien gently jacking himself off in front me. His fingers locked in my hair so he could hold my face. I opened my mouth for him, despite not having swallowed all the cum of the second man and having my face covered with spending of the first. Damien's jizz shot out like a hose, spraying my eyes, nose, face, and mouth.

"Shit," he said, "that was a fucking good one. She's covered in it."

Indeed, I felt a wash of warm cum rolling down my face and neck, a thin layer of fluid covering my boobs. I swallowed everything I could and the men all switched positions: the man who had fucked my mouth continued working his way into my ass, Damien fucking my mouth, and the second man sliding underneath for a shot at my cunt. A wave of euphoria hit me, and I came much faster this time, the orgasms coming in fast and sharp like jolts of electricity. I didn't have the energy to scream anymore, and the only thing that marked my climaxes were moans or gasps followed by brief convulsions.

When the men were done, they stood me up and unlocked my handcuffs. My face was still wet, and the slickness traveled down my chest to my navel. My clothes had never come off, only been moved out of the way. They didn't give me a towel, so the fabric stuck to me like I'd just been at the gym. I thanked Damien, and he told me I was quite welcome, congratulating me again for my excellent work. Then I left in a haze of bliss.



-------

Chapter 6: Climbing


A few days after my first night with three men, Damien called me with big news: "You are going to love me for this one, baby. I got you a cover!"

I started yelling and almost dropped the phone. Thank goodness I was in my apartment at the time, because someone might have thought I was being raped. I did manage to knock my mug of tea off the kitchen counter when I bumped it with my hip during all the jumping. The crash echoed loudly and I yelped.

"What was that?" Damien asked, "Are you all right?"

I laughed into the phone as I stepped away from the shards. My feet were bare and the last thing I needed was a trip to the ER.

"I told you you'd move up, didn't I?" he asked.

I wanted to shove my lips through the phone and plant a big kiss on his lips. "Thanks, Damien, you were worth every bit of the move. I love you!"

"Wait. Wait. Wait! I'm not done, girl. The cover is for FHM."

This time I dropped the phone. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I grabbed the nearest chair to support myself. From the floor, I heard Damien's voice. "Felicia, are you okay? You still there?"

After pulling all my unraveled composure back together, I picked up the phone. "How in the hell did you get FHM for me?"

"It was easy. Their next big issue is called "Diamonds in the Rough." Ninety-nine undiscovered models. You are on the cover. I'm so proud of you. I sent them your Fire and Ice photos. I think they called the second after they finished wiping their pants. You've got it, baby."

I had IT. The thought made me giggle and squirm with childish glee. "How can I thank you? I'll do anything you want."

"Don't worry about it. You pay me twenty percent and give awesome head. That's enough for me. But I'm cooking up an awesome surprise for you. No other guys this time. You're going to love it."

Out of coherent words to say, I hung up and jumped, screamed, hollered, and bit on a pillow until I could calm down. I called my parents first. I got my mom and told her the news. Her first question was, "Is it a porno magazine?" When I told her it wasn't, she was thrilled. My dad, of course, knew all about FHM and thought it would be weird to see me on the cover, but he was also excited. Adrienne didn't answer her phone, so I told her to call back because I had HUGE news. Then I texted everyone on my contact list and started cleaning up my spilled tea with shaky hands.

The best thing about the shoot was that Damien was able to secure James as my head photographer. I had to drive down to L.A. for it, but I didn't care at all. I don't think James minded, either. Three photographers were on the set, all doing the FHM models in the same day at the same time. My shots were handled by James. So were thirty-two other girls'.

"Hey darling, are you looking for me?" an older voice asked.

I turned to see Trudy approaching with her large makeup case and my first outfit. I changed into it while she and I chatted excitedly about the cover.

"You're losing weight, aren't you?" she commented while watching me slip into the outfit.

"I don't know, am I?" I looked myself over in the mirror and saw that I indeed had lost a little weight. I wasn't unnaturally thin, but a teeny pinch of flesh had left my stomach, thighs, hips, and ribs. My boobs were fairly untouched, but even my face looked somewhat thinner. "Yeah. Maybe I have."

Trudy knew what a big deal the shoot was for me, so she went out of her way to do an amazing job on my makeup and hair. Then a set coordinator came over to me and discussed different poses and the other outfits they wanted me to wear during the shots. Along with the cover, they planned to interview me and do a four page spread on me as the "number one undiscovered." After speaking with the set coordinator, I was taken to a small corner of the studio where a video camera and chairs had been set up. Another woman named Margie began an interview. We discussed things like my experience in modeling, my backup plans, my likes and dislikes about men and sex, and other hobbies I enjoyed. She was a natural interviewer, and I found myself quickly spilling things that I normally wouldn't say in interviews. I made sure to give nothing away about Damien and myself, but I gave her some awfully candid answers that my mother might blush at when the issue hit the stands.

Not long later, my first shoot began. Damien showed up moments before. I knew he'd come to see my first cover. The aura he brought just by smiling at me filled me with an amazing energy. I dazzled the camera and James. I sent every lusty fuck signal I could to the lens, even making James, who normally is quite the stoic photographer, have to adjust his pants. Damien gave me a sly thumbs up when James finally called it a wrap and told me to go change into my next outfit.

"How's it going? You're looking good out there," Damien said. James walked past us to set up the next camera and throw a new card in his memory deck. "Don't need any help do you?"

I knew he meant to ask if I needed coke, but I didn't. He followed me to the changing room and watched me with greedy eyes as I slipped into my next outfit, a black tight pair of panties with a white bra. Then we went back to Trudy for new makeup.

"Don't let me forget," Damien added, "it's payday today. Before you go I've got your collections from the last few weeks."

I grinned greedily and clapped my hands. "Money, money, money!"

Damien and Trudy both chuckled at me. He stayed and chatted with us while Trudy worked, then headed over to schmooze with the FHM folks and some other models. When Trudy finished, I wandered around the set for a bit, chatting with a couple other girls who were sipping on water or diet sodas. All of us were fairly new in the business, only a handful of years or less, but almost everyone I talked to saw this as a big break.

A group of ten of us were gathered around watching the shoots and gossiping about things we'd heard around the town when one of the girls complained about her leg itching. I'd caught her name already: Margaret. She was a skinny girl, not too tall, but with big eyes, healthy breasts, and a nice bright smile that matched her silky reddish brown hair. When she leaned down to scratch her leg, she smacked her head hard on the table.

I left the group of staring girls and went to help Margaret. "Are you all right?" I asked. Her eyes were a little out of focus for a minute.

"She needs ice! Hurry!" I told her makeup girl, then helped Margaret back into her chair from where she'd hit the floor. Several other studio hands were running over to see what the commotion was, including James and Trudy.

Margaret held her head with her hand, swearing at herself. Between her fingers I could see a nice lump forming. "Where's the ice!?" I asked.

Margaret's makeup girl arrived with an ice pack and I helped apply it. The chief art director came over and examined the bump and determined that she could still pose if the lump stopped swelling soon. He decided they could bump her number to last in the shoot and edit out any residual swelling that didn't go down by then. Margaret gave me a little pout and said, "Thanks, Felicia, I owe you one."

I gave her a little hug and then heard my name being called for another session with James. The second part of my shoot lasted thirty minutes. Then I headed back to change and wait again. I found Margaret and sat with her. The swelling had gone down quite a bit, almost back to normal but with a nice green and purple spot right at the top of the lump. She thanked me again and we launched into chit-chat about our careers.

"I'm too small for the business," she commented with a sad smile. "The only reason I got this bit is because I know one of the editors of FHM. I haven't even told my agent that. I've got her—my agent, I mean—looking into some other stuff. I've got a scene in some Hustler series in a month. I mean, I can decide to drop if I want, but I don't know. I need the money."

"Have you done porn before?" I asked her.

"No." When she shook her head, the ice bag rattled and sloshed, and she almost dropped it.

I watched her eyes and could see the uncertainty in them. She didn't want to do porn, I could tell. "Why do it, then? That's a really tough industry, too."

"Yeah, but I'm not really good at anything else. I tried waitressing, but I always messed up orders. I was a secretary, but my boss fired me because I wouldn't go down on him ... and I sucked at my job. Porn doesn't care how tall you are. Everyone wears big stilettos and ends up on their backside."

I chuckled at her comment. "Yes, that's true. You just have to decide for yourself if that's something you can live with doing. My mom and dad sat me down when I told them I was going into modeling. Lots of girls go from acting or modeling into porn. They asked me if I wanted to have kids, and I said yes, someday I do. They asked me how I would feel if my mom had been a porn star and all the kids in school had seen her naked and having sex with lots of men or women. The thought of being teased like that mortified me, and I decided I would never do anything nude. Even the artsy stuff some actresses do, all they're remembered for is the nude scenes. It made sense to me."

Margaret's eyes were so full of adoration, it was almost scary. "Wow. I never thought about all that stuff. I want to have kids, too." Then her eyes brimmed with tears. "But I'm not even good at modeling!" She pointed to her forehead and started to sob.

I took her hand in mine and held it, then pulled her close for a hug. A couple of the models across the set stared at me like I was crazy. I ignored them. "You'll find something you like. Don't worry. You're what, twenty?"

"Eighteen," she stated through her tears. "But I'm almost nineteen."

"Have you thought about college?"

She shook her head. "I'm not very smart. I did well in art stuff, but math and English were HORRIBLE. I don't know. Maybe my kids won't find out. If I use a soodoname ... I just need the money so I can pay my rent."

I let her faux pas slide. Then an idea struck me. "I'm actually looking for a permanent roommate. If you're looking to save a few bucks, you could move in with me-- well, if you're not really obnoxious, messy, and don't have pets."

Margaret looked at me and sniffed. She looked so young and pathetic, I almost laughed. "I don't even really know you that well. Seriously? I'd love to come by the place and see it, you know, check it out."

"Sure, why not come over tonight and have a look. I have a girl, another model, she's a part-time resident. But she'd probably just sleep in my bed." I gave Margaret a wink.

"Oh shit, are you a lesbian?" She covered her mouth.

"No, but I do enjoy fooling around."

I wasn't sure if Margaret was horrified or astounded. She coughed and then sputtered. "I'm sorta like that, too, but everyone tried to convince me I must be a lesbian if I like kissing girls. I mean, I've never gone all the way, but at parties I've made out with girls to impress guys."

I smiled. She was in no way shape or form a lesbian. But still, any girl had potential. "So follow me back to my place tonight and I'll show you around. If you say no, I really won't care."

"Cool. Thanks."

We continued talking until James summoned me yet again for the third part. The shoot grew more difficult as the day wore on. It's hard keeping the energy up for such a long time. Models really can't eat heavy food the day of a shoot because of bloating and stomach pooching and all that, so all I could have was caffeine, and my body was beginning to get sick of riding the highs and lows of caffeine's effect. I knew if I didn't keep up my performance, Damien would try to get me to take more coke, and I didn't want any. However, during my fourth shoot I felt my energy really waning, and sure enough, Damien pulled me aside.

"You look bored, Felicia," he said. "You can't look bored in FHM. You can't look bored ever. What's the matter? This is your shot."

"I know. I know. I know." I gave him my best smile. "I'll get it done. Sorry."

I wanted to tell him that between the increased number of shoots, the added stress of his management style, and the regular fuck sessions in his penthouse were starting to wear me down, but I couldn't say any of this. I saw James glance over in our direction as he waited for me to return to the set for the session. Not wanting to keep him waiting or make any of the FHM people angry, I hurried Damien out of site and took a long snort of the blow in his pouch. The wave hit me hard and suddenly I was back.

At the end of the session, most of the models had left and the crew members were either standing around talking to girls or striking the set. Margaret sat on a chair waiting for me to finish. James and several others congratulated me on my accomplishment and on the great photos, then Damien sauntered up with a big grin. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be hearing from FHM again. But we'll see. Let me give you your checks."

He pulled out an envelope from his inner pocket and handed them over. I thumbed through the small stack of eight checks: one for each week of hard work. As I looked over the amounts written to me from Damien, I noticed that more than the twenty percent had been deducted from the fees from the photographers. I asked Damien about it and he didn't seem surprised at all.

"Yeah, handling fees, babe. You don't think the blow you use on set is free, do you?" The expression on my face made me feel stupid for even asking. "You don't think I come to your shoots for free, do you? While I was here today, I was setting you up with new gigs. That's more than worth an extra five or ten percent, right?"

It made sense to me ... sort of. In the back of my mind, I knew he was being slightly unethical, but at the same time, the checks in my hand (like he'd promised) were almost double what I'd earned in two months with Marcos. Why should I complain? Damien excused himself quickly, saying he had some arrangements to pull together. Once he'd left, James came over to me.

"Everything okay?" he asked. The tone in his voice and the expression on his face told me of his concern. I stopped and considered him longer than I normally would. I hit me that I took him and Trudy for granted. They were good friends. And James was handsome, not on the level of Rob or Damien, but sort of a everyman type of good-looking. He had a trustworthy, honest face. This was also the first time I realized that he wasn't as scrawny as I'd initially thought. Yes, he was slender, but one look at his arms holding a case of lenses made me see that he had taut, wiry muscles that were strong and quick.

"It's fine. Don't worry about me."

James' eyes followed the direction of Damien. "If he's not treating you right—"

"No, really, he is. Everything's fine."

James nodded, but he didn't believe me. "Let me just say—and you know I don't give out advice often—I think you deserve someone better than him and the way he treats you."

I thought about Damien and everything that occurred between him and me. The meeting at camp, the night he took my virginity with my hands held above my head, spanking me to get me wet before he plunged his large cock into my tight tunnel, meeting again and changing my career, fucking me senseless in his penthouse. James was wrong. He was both exactly what I wanted and deserved. "I don't, James. Trust me, I don't."

That night, I drove home thinking of Damien while keeping an eye out for Margaret, who followed me in her little tan Toyota Corolla. I showed her my apartment, and she was absolutely enthralled with it. I barely even had to ask her if she wanted to move in, when she squeaked out her approval.

Exhaustion had overrun me by the time she left. We'd made arrangements for her to sign a subletting contract with me at the start of the next month and I promised her I'd help her figure out her life as best I could. I warned her I wasn't much of a mentor, but as she left she raised up on her tippy toes and kissed my cheek warmly. She was a cute little thing, and I wondered what she'd be like after Adrienne and I got our claws into her.

I washed my face and hit the bed. Just as I had almost drifted off, my phone beeped. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but something made me answer it. I looked at the number and didn't recognize it.

"Hello?" My voice was a little dry and thick from fatigue.

"Hello. Felicia?" I didn't know the voice, but it was a girl's. "This is Ashley Biederman."

I took the phone from my ear and stared at it. What in the hell was she calling me for? "Yes?"

"I am just calling to tell you that I'm at Damien's penthouse right now. I'm tied up to his bed in the dark. He's eaten me so close to orgasm four times and he lubed up my ass. I need to come, but I can't until you get here and decide what the best thing to do with me is."

My breathing came in quick gasping breaths. My hands were trembling with excitement, even with my gnawing fatigue. "What do you mean?"

"Damien told me that tonight you get a choice. You can either dominate me like you've always wanted to since the day I stole him from you, or you can choose to make me dominate you and continue to withhold an orgasm from me." A tremor shook her voice and I could tell she was desperately worried about which choice I would make. I'd rarely heard the kind of need in a woman's voice that she had. "Please come quickly."

The line clicked dead. I literally jumped from my bed and put on my silk pajamas and wrapped a robe around my body. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought of a trained dog who drools at the sound of a bell, but who cared? Not me. I ran two red lights on the way over and almost parked illegally so I'd have less of a walk to the door. As usual, the door was already ajar, all I had to do was push it open. Damien waited for me to enter, then shut it behind me. He took my face firmly in his hands and kissed me. The power of his kiss turned me into pudding, a flock of hummingbirds flapped loops in my stomach, and I wrapped my arms around his waist and back, pulling him into me.

He lifted me up until I was cradled in his arms and carried me deep into the darkness of the house. For the first time ever a light was on, it was very soft, so soft it almost gave no illumination. It was a bedroom. I'm sure I'd been in the bedroom before, but I'd never seen the bed. It was a huge bed, almost twice the size of a California king bed with a four-poster and hangings. The light came from a small spotlight mounted to the underside of the upper panel. It highlighted the erotic sight on the bed. There, indeed, was Ashley Biederman. Each of her limbs was tied to the bed. Her body, dressed in a purple and black lingerie, shone with a light sweat and her chest rose and fell in blatant arousal. She wore a mask over her eyes that matched her intimate apparel and a ball gag, the same that had been in my mouth, was lodged in her own.

"It's your choice," Damien whispered to me. There wasn't enough illumination for me to see his face, but I could barely make out the brightness shining in his eyes. "Whatever you want to do to her, you can do. Make her serve you, rape her, or you can be her little slut and do whatever she asks. It's your choice."

All the possibilities raced through my mind, thousands of sounds and images that each sent a tingle through my pussy. I harbored no ill feelings toward Ashley. I had no idea how Damien had even gotten her here, perhaps he'd never stopped being in contact with her. I wanted to ask him, but I didn't think he'd even tell me. Surely Damien saw plenty of girls. The idea of forcing her to use me without receiving any pleasure thrilled me.

"I want you both to fuck me at the same time. Her with a strap on and you with your cock. I don't want her to cum until I after do."

Ashley whimpered when I said this, her hips thrusting out again in need. Damien put a finger in my mouth and turned me toward him. "I have a little something for you," he said. He put a small pill in my mouth.

"What is it?" I asked before swallowing.

"An E pill," he answered. "You'll come more times than you count."

I was so overcome with need that I just swallowed it down. I'd only done one once before, and that memory of it was fairly strong with me. Adding to that, Damien promising me more orgasms could never be a bad thing. I stripped out of my clothes and then undressed Damien.

Once I had him naked, I knelt down and started kissing his feet, something I'd never done to a guy before. He stood before me. I couldn't see him, but I imagined him looking down at me like I was one of his subjects, his cock pointing straight outward. I kissed his legs, caressing the back of them while I planted my lips tenderly on his knees. Then I moved up his thighs, scratching his buttocks and thighs lightly as I adored and worshipped his body. I ran my tongue on the tip of his ball sac, sucking it into my mouth and then lapping at it again. Damien groaned at this.

"Felicia, you're so amazing." But the true compliment was when his knees slightly buckled.

I inhaled his large prick, taking each inch into my mouth and pushing it down my throat. The sensitive nerves on my lips and tongue were perfectly aware of every throb as he grew hard inside my eager mouth. I grabbed his ass and shoved my face forward until my lips were pressed against his skin and his pubic hairs tickled my nose and chin. When I couldn't hold my breath any longer, I pulled off and gasped.

"Fuck, Felicia, you're an amazing cocksucker," he cried as he took my head and gently fucked my face.

I massaged his ass cheeks as the fucking continued. My muscles relaxed and Damien was able to steadily fuck his whole nine inches like my mouth and throat was one long cunt for the taking. As his need grew, he fucked faster, harder. Drool poured from my mouth as I wasn't able to swallow and it flung everywhere, mostly on my face and down my breasts. Just as he came, Damien pulled out and grunted, jerking himself furiously. Sperm shot from his tip like a spray of water from a hose, covering my face and hair.

"Shit! Fucking shit!" he hollered. Ashley moaned from the bed at the sound of Damien's orgasm.

My open mouth received almost no jizz until it ran down my face and I could use my tongue to lap it up. I had almost no time to enjoy the taste before Damien jerked me up and sat me on Ashley's face. Ashley could do nothing but accept my presence.

"Make her cum," Damien told Ashley. "Then I'll release you."

I sat on Ashley's face facing her feet. My legs were on opposite sides of her head and the ball gag pressed against my pussy while my anus rubbed her little pert nose. All Ashley could really do was use her ball gag to stimulate my clit and run it in between my swollen pussy lips. While she did her best to arouse me, I took my time teasing her, scratching her stomach and tickling the underparts of her breasts beneath her bra.

More than anything, Ashley's screams and moans through the ball gag stimulated me, the vibrations acting like a small, but very powerful dildo. As the E pill began to kick in, the sensations she provided on my anal opening and my clit were doubled and tripled. I rocked my hips and slid my crotch all over her face, enjoying using her as a little slutty fucktoy.

I moaned and gyrated, teasing my own nipples now, putting on an erotic show for Damien, who stood just out of the circle of light, gently stimulating his own cock. I couldn't see much else in the room besides the bed and Damien's figure barely out of the spotlight. Finally Ashley's work paid off, she ground her face into my openings and screamed in frustration. It set me over the edge and a small stream of female cum erupted from my pussy, the first time it had ever happen. It covered Ashley's face and dripped down her chin onto her neck.

"Holy fucking-A," Damien commented. "That was some hot shit, girls." He began untying the ropes to Ashley's wrists and ankles. "Take her gag off, Felicia."

Ashley groaned as I removed the device. "Oh ... fuck ... Damien ... I need to cum. I HAVE TO CUM!"

Her fingers moved toward her own slit, but Damien stopped her with a growl. "If you so much as touch yourself, I'm throwing your ass out of here and you'll never see me again!"

Ashley whimpered and pouted but she also obeyed. I got a good look at her without the mask on and the ball gag in her mouth. She hadn't changed much over the years. C cup breasts with light brown hair and a pretty, but not spectacular face. Her body was very well toned, however, just to perfection where she didn't look muscular but also didn't look flabby. I'd never seen a girl with such perfect balance and such healthy skin. Her brown eyes shone brightly with lust and need.

He gave her the strap on toy and told her to put in on over her panties. It was a large black ribbed toy with two large veins and a nine inch body, just like Damien's cock. In fact, I was almost positive it was an exact molding of his penis. A thrill ran over me. I was going to get fucked by two Damien penises at once. The ecstasy pill had filled me with lustful energy, and one orgasm hadn't nearly satisfied me. If Ashley had taken a pill, too, I pitied the orgasmic denial he was forcing on her. But at the same time, the idea turned me on even more.

Damien lay back on the bed and told me to ride him while Ashley prepped the dildo and squirted some lube up my ass. Damien slipped his cock into my cunt, doing most of the work while I lay on his chest and enjoyed the sensations of both his stimulation and the drug-induced state I'd entered. He slowly filled my pussy with his nine-inch rod, almost lazily pumping in and out, in no rush to reach orgasm. Over the weeks of fucking Damien, I'd come to the conclusion that he had developed total control over his orgasm and could do it almost on command.

"Alright, Ashley, do your job."

A second pair of hands grasped my hips as I felt the bed move under Ashley's weight. Her cock pressed at the entrance of my most private hole and the pressure grew harder. Finally the large cock head invaded my cornhole, filling it with the largest object to ever penetrate my innermost sanctum.

"UNGH!" was all I could say in response.

Damien adjusted his speed to a gentler fucking, leaving me bottomed out on his prick while Ashley pushed inch after inch up my ass. Never in my life had I felt so full.

"Oh fuck!" I hollered into Damien's chest. "Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit!"

When Ashley finally reached the root, it was like two giant baseball bats had been jammed inside me, pressing and rubbing together with only a small space separating them. Working in unison, they seesawed in and out me, one going in while one went out, so I was always full with at least one Damien-sized cock. My mind detached from reality and I felt like an astronaut being launched through space with no ship, no helmet, only thousands of stars flying past me every second.

"Oh..." I moaned for several seconds at a time. "It's so full, so big and bright. Oh yes..."

It didn't take me long in this state to reach orgasm. It wasn't the most powerful one I'd ever had, but it lasted for several seconds, sending me into orbit around some undiscovered planet of bliss and perfection. I quivered on two fully-embedded Damien cocks while drool escaped my lips. Then the fun really started.

Damien put his hands under my arms and supported the bulk of my weight and told Ashley to go full throttle, hold nothing back. In that second my mind exploded. With no coordination whatsoever both cocks rammed in and out me abusing my cunt and ass with a reckless abandonment I'd never experienced before. Ashley's high-pitched voice grunted out her efforts and droplets of her sweat fell on my back as she pummeled my ass. I came three times, all of them small spikes of pleasure that only sent me higher in orbit. Something was growing inside me, a small star, a bright white dot on the horizon that flew toward in the emptiness of space.

"FUCK HER!" Damien yelled. "Fuck her with everything you've got, you filthy bitch! She's a goddess compared to you, now worship her fucking ass."

Ashley screamed again in frustration in her orgasm-deprived state while I lay limply and saw the star, first red, then yellow, and now white grow larger every moment. Another orgasm crested and the star doubled in size.

"Fuck," I mumbled incoherently. My eyes had gone hazy and consciousness had became a very abstract concept. I was dancing and flying through a vacuum universe. Words tumbled from my mouth like star bits trailing me in my wake. "Full. Fuck. Full. Yes. Damien. Fuck. Full."

Every bit of my body tingled with an amazing sexual energy that couldn't be achieved without a mind-altering pill. The star loomed largely now in the distance as the two cocks tried to split my body open. I thought Damien had been giving it everything he had, but then he yelled deeply. "GARGH!"

His pistoning cock turned into a battering ram on hyper speed.

"Flip that switch, Ashley!" he ordered.

Ashley let go of me with one of her hands as she gasped for air and struggled with something on the strap on. Damien's renewed efforts propelled me faster toward the star which now threatened to engulf me in only a few seconds. Then the most amazing thing of all happened, the cock in my ass began to vibrate at a violent speed as Ashley hammered it into me.

The star in space went supernova and everything around me turned white. I remember two things after that: First, I screamed Damien's name with every ounce of strength I had left in my body, and my juices gushed out of my cunt all over Damien's body. And when I saw gushed I mean like a jet stream from a hydrant. It went everywhere. Then I passed out in utter ecstasy as I became one with the star.



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Chapter 7: Awakening


I woke up in the hallway of Damien's building, naked with my robe and pajamas draped over my body like a sheet. My body was exhausted and hung over in a way that I had never imagined possible. Cum and sweat had plastered my hair to my face, and judging from the goopy sticky mess on my face and breasts, I guessed Damien had dumped at least three loads on me during the night, perhaps Ashley had, too.

When I finally understood where I was, I jumped to my feet and dressed, then hurried into the elevator. Never before had I ever shared the elevator with anyone in all my nightly visits, but of course, this time, an elderly couple got in the elevator two floors down. I smelled of sex, I was in pajamas, and I looked like a tramp. Murphy's Law, right? But to make matters worse, on the third to bottom floor, a really hot looking dad with two little kids got in next.

Worst elevator ride of my life.

The next Monday, Margaret moved in. She was a much needed addition to my life. I stayed in the apartment all day to help her get her stuff moved and situated. Adrienne popped in after a shoot (she skipped class to work more and more often, it seemed) and introduced herself. When Margaret wasn't looking, Adrienne shot me a wink and a thumbs up. "I can't wait to get to know you better, Margaret. We have a ladies night coming up in a week or so."

"Sounds great," Margaret said cutely.

It took almost the whole day to get the house back in order after moving her in, but we ordered a pizza (veggie toppings, thank you) and chatted about our plans for the future, about our families, and really got to know each other. It didn't take long to see that Margaret was simply a beautiful person who loved animals, shopping, and following Celebrity Sightings, particularly billionaire Jonathan Kwong's exploits. She'd only had sex with one guy, her high school boyfriend on prom night. He'd moved to New York to go to NYU for acting, and they'd tearfully broken up since she didn't have the money from her family to follow him up there.

"Do you talk to him often, your boyfriend?" I asked.

"No, we both felt a clean break would be best. Maybe someday the universe will glue itself back together, and I'll be able to get back together with him. But I'm not going to sit back and hope for it. If it's right, it'll happen."

Her words made me pause and consider my own life. I had no one in it who I could call "right." And that fact hit me with tremendous force. Damien was not the one. Ben was not the one. Rob was not the one. Marcos was not the one. I had no one, really. I was just riding different attractions at an amusement park. Wasting time.

What had I been expecting to get out of my relationship with Damien? A marriage? Kids?

The thought almost made me laugh. I couldn't marry a guy whose favorite activity was tying me up and inviting his friends over to spooge all over my face and tits. And yet at the same time, I knew if Damien called me now, I'd make an excuse and go over to his penthouse and do whatever he asked. What the hell was my problem?

My conversation with Margaret wound down quickly. We both needed sleep. As was usual since accepting Damien as my agent, I had a busy week ahead of me. But I slept better that night knowing that someone else was in the apartment with me on a permanent basis. Well, as permanent as roommates can be.

I met up with Patrice randomly at a Wednesday shoot. She greeted me with a fiery kiss on my cheek, and we grabbed lunch to catch it up. I told her about my FHM cover and she got very excited for me. She'd been auditioning for some TV show pilots featuring mostly black casts. We made plans to hook up on Friday and I promised to introduce her to my dear friend Adrienne. There was a clear understanding that on Friday the three of us would be fucking.

By Friday, I felt like I'd barely made it through the week. I'd spent Wednesday night at Damien's penthouse being split open between him and two friends. It had been almost a repeat of the last time there'd been three guys except the two guys who weren't Damien had both shoved their cocks into my mouth. I didn't do any drugs, Damien kept strictly to his "rules," but crawling out of there at 2 AM didn't really help my cause much despite the incredible orgasms I'd had. Margaret woke up when I came home and asked me where I'd been. All I could say was, "Out. Goodnight."

Friday was Girls Night. I took Margaret out to dinner at The Wingless Albatross. We had just ordered drinks when Adrienne met up with us. Patrice came in about five minutes later straight from a shoot, complaining about her photographer. It was fun chatting and bitching about the business, four models all in different stages of their careers, but all relatively the same age. I was the oldest in the group, two years older than Patrice and about four years older than Adrienne. Margaret was barely nineteen, and Adrienne almost twenty, so Patrice and I had to sneak them alcohol.

Being the oldest and most responsible, I avoided drinking too much so I could drive everyone home if need be. Sure enough, all four of us piled into my little Jetta and took off for the apartment. We had more wine once we'd all settled down around the living room. It didn't take long for me to get a nice buzz going, a model never eats much, you know. The conversation turned to more personal things, particularly relationships. Margaret and Patrice quickly learned that Adrienne only had sex with women and Ben. She went into a lot of detail about Ben, enough that Patrice got a gleam in her eye and invited Adrienne to introduce her sometime.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Adrienne remarked. "He loves fucking models."

I laughed. "It's true. And the Big Ben Experience is something you'll never forget."

Patrice's interest only grew. Margaret didn't seem to know what to think of all the sex talk. Adrienne absentmindedly toyed with my hair and tickled my ear while the chatting grew more and more lewd.

"So all of you have had sex with women?" Margaret asked. Her voice had a hitch and she looked uncomfortable.

Patrice, I couldn't say for certain, but then I saw her nodding her head right along with me and Adrienne.

"Wow..." was Margaret's response. Her eyes were big, but not necessarily fearful.

"In fact," Adrienne began, "that's really what these Girls Nights are really about."

Margaret played with her neck and collar bone, gulping as she did so. "You mean, you expect me to have sex with one of you?"

"Or all of us!" I exclaimed, giving her a playful wink. "You don't have to do anything. Why not just watch and see if you want to join in?"

A big nervous smile grew on Margaret's face. "Is it ... good?" she asked with an anxious laugh.

"Girl, it's to die for," Patrice said.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," Adrienne suggested.

I'd already placed several objects around the room to set a nice mood. Usually these nights were attended by Adrienne's friends with me hosting, so I'd gotten to know what Adrienne preferred to enhance the setting to a more erotic level. Candles were placed strategically throughout the room, all scented lavender or vanilla, Adrienne's favorite. I'd put filters over the lights to make the glow softer, and I'd put in a mix CD that Adrienne loved. We lit the candles and set a chair near the bed for Margaret to sit in. My king-size bed was more than big enough for three girls. Since Adrienne and I were old hats at this, we had Patrice undress so we could give her an erotic massage. She had nice firm breasts that I guessed to be a very healthy C cup with perfect quarter-sized dark nipples. Her pubic hair was trimmed to a small strip and she had the most amazing abs I'd ever seen. Her soft chocolate skin was taut around her muscular, toned body revealing firm thin arms and legs and an ass that could crack walnuts.

I shuddered as I ran my hands over her skin. "Wow, Patrice, you have an amazing body," I couldn't help but say.

"Thank you," she said, "I have perfect genetics. I'm half black, a quarter Asian and a quarter Irish."

I leaned down and planted soft kisses on both her asscheeks. Adrienne peeled off her clothes and straddled Patrice's lower back so she could rub her shoulders and neck. I watched Margaret's wide eyes as she took everything in, smiling at her in a friendly, reassuring way. Still clothed, I rubbed Patrice's legs, one at a time, beginning with her buttocks and working down to her perfect, thin feet and tiny toes. I took her toes in my mouth and sucked on them one at a time. Patrice moaned as I did it, encouraging me on. I hooked my thumbs in between her legs and worked her inner thigh muscles, moving just up to where they met her swelling lips and then backed away again. The heat in between her legs grew a little each time I moved up there, teasing her more and more.

"Ungh," she groaned. "You're both too damn much, but I love it. Don't stop."

For at least ten minutes Adrienne worked out all the little kinks in Patrice's muscles until she was little more than a puddle of flesh. Adrienne and I kneeled on opposite sides and planted more kisses all over her, ordering her to flip over so we could do the same to her front side.

Patrice did as we told her, her chest heaving as her anxiety grew. We kissed her arms, her shoulders, her chest, her breasts. I knelt over her right leg and trailed firm, loving pecks down her perfect abs, adoring each little muscle bundle with my lips and tongue. When I reached the juncture of her pubic area and stomach, she gasped for air. My lips brushed along her little trail of hair and all around it. Adrienne had left Patrice's thighs to give me room and was now softly sucking one of Patrice's lovely firm breasts while playing with her other nipple.

I could see Patrice's little clit growing and emerging from its hood. I gave Adrienne a wink and kissed all around it.

"Oh fuck," Patrice said, "this is amazing! What are you doing to me?"

"Just enjoy it," I told her.

Finally I planted my lips firmly on Patrice's little love button and sucked on it.

"EEEE!" Patrice screamed. Her hips bucked at my lips. "Fuck!" she cried. "Oh, give me more of that shit."

I sucked again harder and her whole body shook and cum pulsed out of her, dropping like dew pellets onto the bed and glistening on her angry red pussy lips. I moved my head down and took a long lick of her slot, tasting her on my tongue. Adrienne leaned back into me and we shared her taste between us with a sloppy kiss. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Margaret watching us with a shocked expression, shifting in her chair.

Adrienne's fingers went down to Patrice's pussy and she worked her to a second orgasm while we kissed over her. Then we had Patrice lift her legs up and hold them while Adrienne ate her to a third as I fucked her ass with my tongue. Patrice's coarse profanities echoed off the walls as she came all over mine and Adrienne's faces.

"I guess her ass is super-sensitive," Adrienne joked. She kissed me again, smearing Patrice's juices all over my face.

"Dang," Margaret whispered when Patrice begged us to stop after cumming a third time. "I can't believe one girl can give another so much pleasure."

"You have no fucking clue," Patrice said in a breathy tone.

"I-- I think I want to try. Is that okay?"

"Come on aboard!" Adrienne said, patting the empty area of the bed next to her.

For the rest of the night, we ganged up on each other. Margaret wanted us to take it slow with her at first, so Adrienne eased her into it with a long make out session. Meanwhile, Patrice and I got into a 69 so she could eat me out while I gently took her to her fourth orgasm. Ours was a soft lovemaking, especially for Patrice who'd already cum and needed to pace herself. I enjoyed watching Margaret take one of Adrienne's giant E cup tits into her mouth and suck on it. She was so little she looked like a little girl sampling a giant boob for the first time. Then Adrienne took a small vibrating dildo and sucked on it while playing with Margaret's small breasts. When Margaret had relaxed enough, Adrienne fucked her with the vibrator on a slow setting and licked at her clit.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Margaret said over and over again. "I can't believe this! I can't believe it! This is amazing!"

Adrienne smiled with her tongue wiggling and painting all over Margaret's clit. When Margaret finally came, her little body quaked for almost a full minute. I'd never seen anyone shake as much as she did. Adrienne took the smaller girl in her arms and kissed her passionately, then let her suckle on one of her large breasts again.

"Wow," Margaret gasped. "Oh my—just—wow."

I don't think at that point Adrienne had the patience to let Margaret figure out how to return the favor, so Margaret and I switched partners. She went over to Patrice, who was already quite satisfied now with five orgasms, and I took over Adrienne's pleasure. I knew just what to do for her. I lubed up a vibrating butt plug and inserted it into Adrienne's ass and then fucked her with a strap on.

"Oh yes..." Adrienne cooed as she played with her own tits. "Do it harder!"

So I fucked her harder. Out and in.

"Harder!" she yelled again.

So I fucked her even harder. OUT and IN.

Out.

In.

"Come on, bitch!" she growled at me through clenched teeth.

OUT.

IN.

I drove into her, sucking down air as I did so.

"HARDER, FELICIA!" Adrienne slammed her pelvis up to meet mine as I fucked her in the missionary position. I slammed back into her with everything I had in me. My breaths were deep gasps for air and sweat began pouring down my face and onto my breasts as I jammed the dildo into the blonde goddess beneath me. I could feel the tip hitting her cervix, just the way she preferred it, just like Ben did to her, all the way to the hilt. The vibrator in her ass gave me the feeling that I was fucking someone having a seizure.

Adrienne pulled the pillow out from under her head and smothered her screams with it. I knew somewhere in her stream of intelligible words I heard Ben's name. It wasn't the first time, but I never mentioned it to her.

Finally everyone's attention turned to me. Adrienne smiled at me and told me that she knew just what I wanted. She took the strap on off me and put it on herself, ordering me to lick it clean of her juices. Then she gave another to Patrice and asked her to put it on. I shuddered with thoughts of Damien as I pondered what she would do. After getting her strap on clean, I sucked on Patrice's, lubing it with my own saliva with Adrienne began to lap at my cunt.

Margaret observed us, feverishly rubbing her own clit with no hesitation. Adrienne lay on her back and ordered me to lay on her face down. She eased the large dildo into my pussy and then Patrice knew what she had to do. Her own dildo had to go in next. Not satisfied with my lubrication job, Patrice used her own tongue to properly prepare my ass, even spreading my cheeks and letting her spit fall onto my tight hole. When she felt I was ready, her own dildo invaded my bowels, tightly squeezing the skin in between my cunt and ass.

"Oh shit, that is soo hot!" Margaret cried as she brought herself to another climax.

"Come over here!"Adrienne told Margaret as she continued plowing her big phallus into my sopping wet cunt. "Lean against the wall and let her do it!"

Margaret obeyed Adrienne. Everyone always obeyed Adrienne. When I saw her little snatch right in front of me, I knew what Adrienne wanted me to do. I put my face into Margaret's little cunt and ate her out. Patrice fucked my ass even harder, showing my jaw and nose into Margaret, making it difficult for me to breathe anything but Margaret's tart Sapphic fragrance.

I came once only a couple of minutes later. This seemed to urge Adrienne on even more. She and Patrice redoubled their efforts, fucking me with a primal passion. Margaret came onto my face and her juices dripped down my chest and off my nipples. I looked down and saw Adrienne catching them in her mouth. I groaned as I felt an even larger climax coming. I stopped eating out Margaret and humped my whole torso back at the invading cocks. Adrienne grinned with lustful delight, and Patrice's face grimaced as she pistoned out of me. When the climax finally burst, I clutched Margaret's spread legs for support, but I felt all of my energy sapped. I'd been working myself too long and hard to sustain this kind of effort any longer. A white fog overtook me and I collapsed on top of Adrienne and quickly passed out.



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Chapter 8: Seeing


It's amazing how time flies when you're busy. My career had never been better. I think I finally understood how medical residents feel straight out of school when they're asked to work eighty hours a week. If I wasn't running errands, eating, or sleeping, I was working. The FHM magazine eventually hit the stands, and Damien said his phone hadn't stopped ringing since. Even I had to admit, the FHM cover was amazing and took my portfolio to a whole new level. Maxim wanted to book me for a few inside gigs, Penthouse offered me money, but the most exciting thing was a spot in a Trident commercial.

Damien wasn't calling me over as often to his apartment, maybe twice every three weeks. However, the sessions were more grueling and always took me at least two days to recover both physically and mentally. My energy was always down. I was using coke as many times as Damien would let me: three times a month, no more, no less, usually on an extra-important shoot. Every time Trudy saw me she asked me if I was losing weight. The truth was that I had dropped pounds. In my business, that usually wasn't a bad thing, but I also couldn't have all my ribs showing or my eyes looking sunk in.

Once, in the middle of a shoot with a really hot guy named Esteban, I blacked out and he caught me before I hit the floor. James was my photographer at the shoot, and tried to made me quit early, but I refused to leave the set. We finally struck a compromise and he had me drink two cups of sports drink. James tried to corner me after the shoot, but I got away from him to avoid answering awkward questions. When I got home, I hit the bed and slept for twelve hours. After that day, I started taking caffeine pills before and during sessions with the camera.

Looking back, this was a terrible idea. It threw off my sleep pattern, drove away my appetite, and wrecked me emotionally. I may as well have started smoking, something I promised my uncle, a physician, that I would never do. Within weeks, I was carrying in my purse a bottle of No Doze, Excedrin, and a can of liquid caffeine almost everywhere I went ... and even then it seemed I barely managed to get through my days.

Adrienne, at one point, tried to get me to open up, but for some reason I'd withdrawn into my own little cave of isolation. I was making my career happen, I was dazzling the photographers, but I wasn't happy. Neither was Margaret. Her work wasn't steady, a lot like I'd been when I first began. She was often at the apartment, which in some ways was great, because she cleaned when she got bored, but I hated coming home and seeing her with a big frown on her face. She and I had taken to fooling around if we both had the energy, but I had to save almost all that for Damien. Margaret's newfound enthusiasm still led her to offer to eat me out once or twice a week, just so she could get some practice, and I didn't mind. Then we'd often kiss and talk while she brought herself to climax a couple of times. I encouraged her to avoid starting a career in porn, and she finally backed out of her agreement the day before the film shot. Not knowing what to do, I suggested she take a couple of nighttime art classes at the nearest community college in downtown San Francisco.

Her parents were more than willing to spot her the cash, and so that gave her something to do when she didn't have work. She was really the only bright spot in my life during that point. Adrienne was around less so she could focus on finals, my parents were off vacationing in Europe, and when Margaret was gone, all I really had to look forward to was Damien. His sex sessions had certainly done what he'd promised. They'd filled me with an awakening of my sexual being that was easy to tap into during my work. He'd reminded me that my true sexual nature was being a submissive and allowing other men and women to use me like a disposable fucktoy, a cumdumpster, if you will. Every time I went over there he had two other men with him, one time there was even a fourth, and I was never done until all the men were satisfied. The interesting thing was, however, as exhausting as these sessions in his penthouse were, I always had my best shoots the next day.

So I never stopped until something changed.

I got home on a Saturday night. I'd had an amazing day of work where we'd done some underwater work for a Caribbean cruise line. Me and a guy named Chad Benne (huge muscles, a perk of my line of work) basically had to make out underwater in different poses until our special water photographer was happy with the shots. The tricky part was making sure we didn't get too many bubbles in the frame.

Margaret had made a vegan lasagna (not a perk in my line of work) and was going on and on about how much she had fallen in love with sculpting, even showing some of her initial designs for a sculpture she was planning to do of a rose. I listened and tried to pretend that I enjoyed the lasagna. Normally Margaret's cooking is fine, I just don't think anyone can make a good vegan lasagna. That's when I got the call that changed my life.

It was Damien.

"Hey," I said when I picked it up. It was automatic, every time he called a big fucking grin grew all over my face. He was my love cocaine, and I was an addict.

"Hey hot stuff," his voice rang in my ear. "What have you got planned for tonight?"

"Hmm." I said it in a teasing way, stretching it out so I could hear his voice even longer. "Lots of things. Do my hair, paint my nails, take a looooong bath with bubbles."

"And after that?"

"I don't know..." I replied in mock confusion. "Maybe pway with my wittle clitty and faw asweep."

Damien bellowed at a laugh at my little girl voice. "Wow, that was so hot. Why don't you come over to my place tonight and show my and some friends a great time."

Everything sounded perfect except "some friends." That was the first time he'd ever-- in all his calls-- brought up more people than himself. Despite the fact that he and I had never ever (not even once) had one on one sex since he'd become my agent, I'd never lost hope that someday he'd just take me and fuck me like he used to: just me and him.

"Uh, yeah, what time?" I asked. My voice had changed and he noticed it.

"Something wrong?"

"No. No, nothing's wrong. My roommate just gave me a funny look, that's all." In response, Margaret actually did shoot me a funny look, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. I had to cover my mouth so I didn't choke into the phone.

"Okay, be here at 9PM."

I told him I'd be there, and we hung up. I thoughtfully stirred the food on my plate, my appetite having completely vanished. Margaret watched me as she chewed her own meal.

"Not the best lasagna, is it?"

I smiled and shook my head. "That's okay. It's healthy."

"What happens in these mystery visits you do every so often?" she asked. "Where do you go? You come home a mess-- barely breathing it seems. Are you having some romantic affair with a married guy? Because I'm almost positive you're having sex."

I didn't answer her right away. Did I want to tell her I was having sex with multiple men? No. Especially after talking her out of doing porn. "I'll tell you some day, but not now."

Margaret must have decided she'd asked enough questions and began clearing up, so I helped. The evening crawled by. It was the same old thing. The tired part of me dreaded it, the rest of me wanted it, then I dreaded it more, and by the time 9PM rolled around, I could barely wait. The darkest part of me always awakened as the sun fell, and I was horny and ready to go. I popped a couple of caffeine pills and headed out the door, telling Margaret not to wait up for me.

When I got to Damien's place, I knew something was different. It was just something in the air that I couldn't quite identify. Even now I can't really describe it, I guess the closest word would be "wildness." There was something wild, a scent, an emotion, I just don't know exactly what. But as I pushed open his door, I knew things were going to be different today. That extra sense hit me and my body began tingling with anticipation. After a few visits to Damien's place, I'd figured out some things. One: I knew they could see better in the dark than I could, and I eventually figured out that they were using special eye drops. A relatively cheap solution to the problem. Two: I'd realized that the blinking red light meant Damien was filming me, but I didn't really care. I trusted him as my manager and my friend. Three: I'd eventually figured out one of the people who was almost always with us. It was his actor friend, Ryan Spader.

This particular night began with me locked up in the stockade. I knew there were at least four men there, but I was pretty sure I also heard a fifth. Something new. Something wild. By the time I was locked, my pussy was dripping with eagerness, and I was being fucked in the mouth and the ass, but I didn't care. I was pretty far drowned in a drunken state of lust. One guy, not Damien, was having a great time hammering away on my ass and slapping my cheeks alternately with his hand.

"Take it, bitch! Take it!" he said.

I howled in a mixture of pain and pleasure which only seemed to enhance the blowjob I was giving on the cock fucking my face. This guy had a strong grip on my hair and had developed a steady rhythm sinking his cock into my mouth and an inch or so down my throat. I felt another mouth sucking on my left tit while a hand roughly squeezed my right nipple.

The man with his pole lodged up my anal chute stopped shouting at me and his cries turned to grunts as he nutted a large load up my bowels.

"Ungh! Yes! That's it, bitch!" He spanked me hard one last time, hard enough that I let out a cry, when another dick filled my snatch, which by this time was so wet he sank right in to the hilt.

"Oh fuck," he said to the other guys. "I'm not kidding, it's like fucking a silk sock dipped in warm oil." The voice was new, and I was pretty sure this was the fifth guy.

All of the men laughed. That was when the guy fucking my face pulled out. "Damn. Oh damn!" he spewed his load in my eyes and hair. This guy I was sure was Ryan Spader. He had the most cum I've ever seen from a guy. Twice as much as even Ben's usual loads. It didn't taste great, so I usually avoided swallowing or even taking it in my mouth, but he covered my whole face in his cum. "Now that's a facial!" he said, slapping his cock on my cheek.

"Let's see how she likes the way her ass tastes!" I can only assume that the cock that had pounded my ass was now hardening again in my mouth. All of this only served to turn me on more. As I sucked the head and shaft fucking my mouth, I came hard, my pussy clamping with an iron-clad grip on the cock in me. My body shook the whole stockade and then all the men cheered me on.

"Fucking slut!" Ryan said, "She just digs it, doesn't she, Damien?"

Damien's voice came from nearby. "Oh yes, this is what she loves."

Another grunt came, and the man who'd been pounding my cunt pulled out and blew his load on the small of my back.

"Get her out of there!" another voice said. This one I hadn't heard before. A sixth man? "I'm tired of waiting."

How many guys are here? I wondered. The stockade was unlocked and I was lifted out. Someone was lying on the floor and I was impaled on his cock while his lips mashed into mine and bent over while another cock filled my ass. I sighed into the man's lips at the familiar feeling of such fullness.

Another cock filled my mouth. "Move over, I want the bitch, too!"

"Fine," the gruff voice answered and a second cock was shoved in my mouth, stretching my cheeks and bringing tears to my eyes as I tried not to gag at having more meat in my mouth than I'd ever experienced before.

My hands were then lifted up and placed on two more cocks, one in each. I was pleasuring six cocks at once. There was so much going on around me that I couldn't even keep up with everything. I tried to pump my hands while tonguing and sucking the cocks, but it seemed that every so often, I was handed off or moved to another position only to be filled again in the same manner. The men continued talking about me, laughing, calling me a slut, a bitch, a whore, all of it mixed with every other filthy word they could think of. I just listened to it all and came harder each time I orgasmed.

My ass had been slapped so many times, I could only imagine how red and bruised it would be in the morning, but for now it was numb. My tits had been bitten, licked, pinched, twisted and sucked until they were almost too sensitive for a slight breeze. But even still I continued to come. I was a fucking machine, built to pleasure and be pleasured in return. When the men finally blew their loads, they came on my tits, on my stomach, and showered my face with it. I could no longer tell where my own sweat and their sweat and cum began and ended. It was all one sheen of liquid covering my body. I'd lost count of how many shots of jizz had been shot on me, but I knew it was at least twenty.

My pussy and ass ached, my mouth felt like it couldn't stay open any longer, but still the men wanted to fuck. Some of them were getting even rougher. The thought crossed my mind to tell Damien I needed to leave, that I was too spent to carry on any longer. I'd cum eleven times and my body felt on the verge of collapse again, but I felt that I couldn't. Damien was the one who told me when to go and when to stay. Another guy, I was no longer sure where the voices were coming from, groaned and warm sperm splashed into my bowels.

I was repositioned to my feet in a squatting position so that a man kneeling behind me could drive his shaft straight up my well-lubricated vagina while another man fucked my face. The man on his knees picked me up and slammed down hard over and over, grunting right next to me and shoving his tongue in my ear canal. Another person put his cock in my hand so I could bring him back to hardness, and while I jacked him off, I think I pulled his cock too hard, because all of a sudden I heard:

"FUCK! Damn it! No one move."

The man bouncing me on his lap stopped. I heard the man whose cock I'd been jerking walk around us. "I lost my contact!"

Damien's voice came out of the distance. "What are you doing? No! Don't!"

But it was too late. The light turned on in the room and everyone around me screamed in pain, grabbing their eyes. My eyes hurt as well, but since I hadn't used the eye drops as they had, my vision adjusted much quicker. It was the first time I'd ever gotten a good look at Damien's penthouse. It took my breath away.

The place was built for fucking. The carpet was wall to wall shag. Fuck machines, fuck toys, fuck benches, and fuck cushions were everywhere. I saw the rings I'd been forced to support myself with, the stockade, the bed, and a dozen other things that brought back a dozen other memories. On the floor around me I saw Ryan Spader, my photographer Frankie that Damien liked working worth, everyone there was in some way wrapped up in Damien's network of friends and colleagues. The walls were all mirrors. And that's when I finally saw myself.

I looked like something from a horror/porno film. My hair was covered in slimy cum. My face had been crusted over and bathed again in sperm. All over my skin was a dull sheen from the wetness that blanketed me. The gleam in my eye that was filled with lust, cum lust, scared me most of all. What was Damien turning me into? My asshole was still stretched and gaping from all the dicks that had been shoved into me. I'd never seen my pussy so red and puffy. What would me parents think of me looking like a filthy whore? My future children? How could I be so hypocritical telling Margaret not to participate in a porn film when I'd subjected myself to the most extreme forms of debauchery?

At that moment I lost control of my stomach and vomited. I wish I could say that all that came up was the nasty vegan lasagna I'd had for diner, but there was plenty of something else in there as well. I wiped my mouth and stood up.

All that had taken almost three, maybe four seconds. Everyone else was still grabbing their eyes, trying to shield the light from their dilated pupils

"I quit," I announced, standing on wobbly feet. "I'm done."

Damien blinked and tried to look at me. "Huh? What are you talking about, baby? We're just getting started!" His faced looked comically stupid as he squinted through slitted eyes to try and see me. I walked away, kicking over the video camera and its blinking red light on the way out.

"I don't want your representation anymore. Thank you for all you've done to—I mean for me, but I'm done." And with that I picked up my clothes and left.



-------

Chapter 9: Becoming


The next morning I called up Marcos and asked if I could come see him. He told me I could stop by anytime and he'd have room. We went out for lunch at a small café near his building and he cut right to the chase.

"What's up?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking at me expectantly. "You dump me because we were both having a bad day. You go with Damien Santos, who I never told you that I despise, and now you call me up as soon as you're getting famous. If you've come to gloat, I'm gonna walk right out that door."

"I'm done with Damien," I said. The images of last night were so fresh in my mind, that I could hardly even look Marcos in the eye.

Whatever news Marcos had expected to hear, it wasn't that. His eyes bugged out slightly from his head and the spoon he'd been using to stir his sugar into his coffee clattered to the table.

"Serious?" he asked. "Cuz if you're joking, I swear I'm going to make a scene. A big ugly nasty scene."

"I'm dead serious, Marcos. I want to come back."

Marcos shook his head a little, thinking about what I'd said. "You're good, Felicia. And Damien is a better agent than me. That's why you took off under his tutelage and why you were stagnant under me."

"Damien showed me a lot of things about myself that I don't like, too. His methods aren't necessarily worth the end results. It's just stuff I don't want to talk about—maybe even try to forget about."

"You deserve a better agent than me or Damien, then."

"I want you to represent me, Marcos. Do you think you can at least help me maintain what Damien and I built? I'm enjoying where I'm at, true, but I'm willing to go back to the way things were if it means liking myself again."

"Damn girl, what did he do to you? Are you all right?" Marcos looked into my eyes, trying to see what sordid things I was hinting at.

I gave away nothing.

Marcos had dated me, so he certainly knew something about my love of being dominated, but that didn't mean he needed to know to what depths I had explored that fetish with Damien. The image of myself in the mirror in Damien's room literally covered in male spunk hit me again when he poured his creamer into his coffee. I guessed that Marcos saw this dark place hidden deep in my eyes and knew that I was serious about returning to escape whatever had driven me back to him. He reached into his satchel and removed his ever-handy paperwork, and we started the business of signing.

That night, Adrienne came down for dinner as I'd requested. After my meeting with Marcos, I'd concluded that I needed to open up to someone who understood. And after slowly learning all of Adrienne's deeply buried secrets about her brother, Adam, and her exploits in high school, I felt that I should return the favor by divulging my problems to her.

I ordered salads from a little dive up the street and grabbed a couple bottles of wine to help me relax. Adrienne drove up from school, still carrying her backpack and laptop with her. We greeted each other with a peck on the cheek. Margaret was out for the night running her own errands and catching a movie (by herself, I know, weird), so we had the place to ourselves. I waited until after we finished eating to begin the talk. Adrienne already knew quite a bit about Damien, and she also knew I'd been sleeping with him regularly for the past several weeks.What shocked her was the extent of my sexual escapades in his penthouse.

I know she didn't mean to do it, but the expression of revulsion on her face as I told her what I'd done only deepened my sense of humiliation.

"How could you let him do that to you, Felicia?" she asked after she took her hand away from her open mouth.

I sipped more wine to calm my nerves and shrugged. I could barely meet her gaze. For years I'd known about her issues with men, and recently she'd told me about her brother, so I understood why she'd chosen to live a lesbian lifestyle with the Ben exception. It made sense. How could I explain to her that I was just the opposite of her? It excited me when men dominated me. I knew that Damien would never let it go to the point where I was hurt or abused. But at the same time, I knew I couldn't live like this any longer. My self-respect and sense of worth had been all but shattered as Damien had molded me into a walking, breathing sex object.

Tears streamed down my face as I finally told her about seeing myself in the mirror and looking not at the beautiful strong woman I'd expected to become through modeling but a broken, cheap whore. Adrienne cried with me and told me she'd help me through this. She held me and kissed my cheeks and tears with a compassion she'd never shown me before. I laid my head on her shoulder as she stroked my hair and neck. I told her how grateful I was to have her, as I could never have approached my parents with these things. She shushed me and pulled me tighter, squeezing the breath out of me in a wonderful way.

I can't even say what a burden I felt lifted from me after the conversation. Suddenly I wasn't alone. I knew if Damien were to call me, I'd have someone to fall back on to help me tell him no. My heart seemed to beat easier and breathing didn't seem quite a chore. Adrienne kissed me tenderly on the lips and a flame of passion rose in me. I kissed her back with a needful fury, holding her face in my hands and opening my mouth to invite her tongue to play with mine.

Adrienne stood, pulling me with her. Her hands scrambled at my clothing, trying to undress me five ways at once. As we tore at each other's clothes, we kissed and tried to walk backwards to my room. I had her pants halfway down her legs and she had my shirt bunched up around my neck when I fell back onto my bed. She immediately pounced on me, planting on me that one-of-a-kind kiss that Ben loves to compare to a slow-burn. I know what he means. It's like a heat so intense it can set my soul on fire.

And, of course, my phone rang.

I didn't plan on answering it, but something told me to do it. I broke away from our kiss and had to catch my breath.

"Just give me one sec, I promise." I saw the look in her eyes that told me if I took more time than that, she'd rape me ... on the phone or not.

I reached over and grabbed it halfway through the third ring. Marcos. What could he want?

I cleared my throat before I spoke. "Hey Marcos. What's up?"

"Felicia..." he said. Something in his voice sounded off. Like he was grinning and couldn't stop. "I hope you're sitting down."

"Something like that," I said, shaking my head at Adrienne who was now crawling toward me like a jungle cat, eyeing me like a small, juicy animal.

"Well, I'll cut to the chase. It's getting late. Dresilla Fretchinko. She's got something nasty like the measles. I'm not sure what it is. Anyway, she got dropped from Horatio's and they called me. THEY CALLED ME ASKING FOR YOU!"

I screamed into the phone. I screamed so loud it startled Adrienne and she fell off the bed. I screamed so loud my neighbor upstairs started stomping on the floor.

"ARE YOU FOR REAL?!?!"

"Yes! I'm totally serious! One week. They shoot in one week. I'm emailing you all the info right now."

"OH. MY. HOLY. SHIT!" I kicked my legs into the bed and screamed one more time. "Thank you, Marcos! Thank you! Thank you! Next time I see you, you get a big fat kiss!"

I hung up with Marcos and helped Adrienne off the floor.

"Good news, I suspect." She laughed as she spoke.

"I got Horacio's!"

Adrienne and I screamed a little bit more, holding hands and jumping up and down on my bed. Our perfect model bodies would have been a treat for any hot-blooded man. My upstairs neighbor stomped again and my ceiling light bulb fizzled out.

"Holy shit! That's awesome!" Adrienne yelled at me. Her smile was just as big as mine.

The only thing better than the news was having a friend with me who was truly happy for my success. When we stopped jumping and calmed down, I saw her looking at me. The glint in her eyes, the look of pure lust, had only grown. Her beauty caught me off guard, even though it shouldn't have. At that moment, I thought I could fall in love with her. My breath was stuck in my lungs.

"Adrienne..." I started to say. I was on the verge of confessing my love to her. I was on the verge of throwing myself at her and telling me that I'd do anything to be with her. That's how vulnerable I was.

But Adrienne knew better. Yes, she was four years younger than me, but Adrienne had always been the wiser one. And she'd always been Ben's. She rushed forward and put her hand over my mouth. Her palms smelled like mango lotion mixed with coconut.

"I know what you're feeling right now," she whispered. "It's okay. It's not really for me. You just need someone, don't you?"

I nodded with my eyes pouring into hers. I wanted it to be her. Nothing mattered more than her loving me back and fulfilling every wish I had to find that one person who I could give myself, heart and soul to. I wanted it to be Adrienne.

"I'm not the one for you," she continued, still just as softly. "I love you, but I'm not the one for you. I'm Ben's. I think I always will be. But tonight I'll be yours. Then, tomorrow, you'll feel better. You and I both know it's a man you need. Not a woman."

I nodded again, willing to say anything to shut her up so she'd kiss me. When she took her hand off my mouth, I threw myself into her. My lips attacked hers. My tongue attacked hers. My hands finished ripping her clothing off so I could kiss every inch of her body. I spent several long, beautiful minutes worshipping her arms, hands, fingers, kissing them and licking them. Then I went to her toes and did the same thing. Gently, I pressed my lips up her legs to her thighs. I felt the heat pulsing from her loins as I carefully spread her legs so I could kiss and tickle the junction between her thighs and beautifully shaped lips.

At last, I could hold out no more. With a huge swipe of my tongue, I licked from her ass to her clit. Adrienne gasped and shuddered, rewarding me with a large flood of cum from her steaming cunt. I lapped it and she responded by jamming my face roughly into her, locking her legs around my head so I had no choice but to eat her out. I gripped her breasts and squeezed roughly as I worked, but it seemed even I couldn't move fast enough for Adrienne. Her hips rutted off the bed in a spastic motion, fucking herself against my face. I drove my tongue as deep as I could into her tunnel, savoring the sweet flavor of her cum and eager to make her climax again.

"Lick me harder!" Adrienne screamed. "Fuck me!"

I thrust my tongue into her over and over, stiffening it like a cock as she continued to shove her slot back at me. She did this until my tongue was aching and tired, and I finally brought her off to a gigantic climax with two fingers in her ass, a thumb furiously rubbing her clit, and my tongue embedded two or three inches down her pussy.

Adrienne showed no signs of fatigue after she came over my face. She sat up and took my face in her hands again, kissing me and licking her own juices off of me. One of her hands snaked down to my breasts and cupped my right globe, squeezing it and teasing my nipple with the nail of her index finger. The sensation alone was enough to make me climax. Adrienne chuckled at my excitement.

"Damn, you're too easy tonight." The glint in her eyes had become manic. "I guess I'm going to really have to fuck you up."

I shuddered as I watched her reach into my drawer. She removed from it the lube first, squeezing it onto her fingers as she directed me to lay onto my stomach. I knew she was going to assault my ass. I never doubted it. Easily slipping two fingers into my most private hole, she gave me a good vigorous fucking until she was sure I was good and lubed.

Just for good measure, though, she gave the lube bottle another good squeeze just as she removed her fingers. I felt a coldness creep over me as the lube worked its way into my bowels. Then from the same drawer she took out my vibrating butt plug. Turning it to the highest speed, she held it up to my butt cheeks and drew letters on my skin. The anticipation made me lift my ass into the air, begging her to put it in me. When her teasing had practically driven me mad, she finally let me have it.

A yell that burned my throat erupted from me the moment the head of the butt plug touched my the rim around my anus. My fingernails tore at the bedsheets and clawed at the mattress as a second climax shook me. The orgasm only continued as the pulsating plug filled my lubed ass. When it finally bottomed out and that familiar fullness overtook me, I had to fight to keep consciousness.

"OH FUCK, A.D.!" I moaned.

She took that as a challenge and began butt-fucking my ass with the plug, something it is really not meant to do. The constant motion in my bowels set me over the edge a third time and my clenching ass gripped the plug like a steel trap, forbidding Adrienne from removing it for the time being. Content to leave it be, Adrienne donned her favorite strap-on and flipped me over so that I could face her. She regarded me like a lover and bent down to kiss me with another slow-burn kiss she almost always saved for Ben. As she did so, her cock slipped into my dripping snatch and bottomed out, leaving me filling as full as a girl possibly can.

She put a pillow under my hips to tilt them up to her. Then she drew my legs up over her shoulders and bore down on me, driving her dick into me as far as it could possibly go.

"Take it!" she ordered me. "Take all of my cock! Don't you want it?"

"Yes, give it to me, A.D." My voice came in pants and gasps as I struggled to match her intensity. "Harder. Faster. Fuck me, please!"

Adrienne rammed her hips into me like an ancient war machine breaking down the walls of a castle to plunder its greatest treasures. She ran her fingers along my tight stomach and full breasts, occasionally using her nails to scratch me. This only ramped up my desire and my hips tried to buck back at her. Adrienne laid over me and smothered me with her lips. Our tongues couldn't seem to taste each other enough, couldn't wrap around each other enough. We were filled with a lusty thirst that could never be quenched. Our souls pressed against each other in that kiss and it sent me over the edge for the final time with an orgasm that consumed my entire body. As I came, Adrienne came again with me, our open mouths accepting our cries of pleasure and need. As we crashed back down to reality, we whispered to each other our gratitude and our love, even though it was only for a night.

As she held me that night to help me sleep, and I smelled our combined sweat and cum mix in a sweet and exciting scent, I knew she had been right. I needed to find the right man who could keep me on the path to healing. Adrienne had shown me the first step. Everything looked up.

Which naturally meant that the next day would be one of the worst of my life.

It started with breakfast. Adrienne was gone before I woke. Typical. She was busier than me. I always check my email at breakfast, so the first thing I did was look at the info Marcos had sent me about the Horacio's shoot. Doing so made me so giddy that I had to call my mom and tell her. Then I had to call my dad. They were both thrilled for me, especially my dad. He'd originally been a skeptic when I told him about my aspirations for a modeling career. Not because he thought I was ugly, but because it didn't seem sensible. When I never asked him for money after moving out, he changed his mind. When I started making more than my older cousins, he became my biggest fan.

To treat myself, I went to Fashion Spot Mall in downtown and decided to pick out either a new purse or a new pair of shoes. After looking through three different stores, it occurred to me that I was already in love with my purse and took it with me almost everywhere I went.

"Shoes it is," I told myself.

I needed a pair for one particular dress in mind. A short red party dress that I sometimes wore to the large bashes the big firms threw a few times a year. I searched through Saks, Nordstrom, and finally found a terrific pair in Bloomingdale's. When I tried them on and confirmed that I wanted them, my phone rang.

"What's up, Marcos?" I asked.

"Felicia..." Something in voice instantly told me that not all was right in my world.

"Yeah?"

"We need to talk. Can you meet me?"

"Is it bad?" I asked. "It sounds bad."

"It's really really bad," he said. "I'd like to see you now if you can manage it. This isn't the kind of stuff I want to talk about over the phone."

The news sounded so bad that my heart was drumming like crazy. "If it's that bad, just tell me now. I'm downtown and trying to come to meet you in traffic would take forever."

"I'd really rather discuss-"

"Just tell me," I said.

I heard Marcos take a big breath. "Fine. I gotta call from Damien today. Just over an hour ago. He wants to sell me the rights to several hours of sex tapes he has of you."

"Sex tapes..." I repeated blankly. My face and hands felt numb. Every thought in my head vanished. "Oh ... shit." These last words came out as more of a squeak than anything else.

"Are you serious?" Marcos asked. "Are you fucking serious, Felicia? Have you lost your mind? You made sex tapes with that son of a bitch! I can't believe you'd do that. I thought he was pulling my dick until he told me to call you and confirm. Even still ... Do you realize what this means?"

"I'm sorry, Marcos. I wasn't thinking. I was half in love with him back when I was a kid."

"Back when you were a kid???" Marcos made a sound of exasperation over the phone. "Fuck that. Damn it. Your contract with Horacio's has a clause about this kind of shit. You can't model for Horacio's if there's a potential of this being released."

"So I'll buy the rights!" I screeched, temporarily forgetting where I was.

"You have a quarter of a million dollars sitting in your bank account? In your parents' accounts?"

A QUARTER OF A MILLION DOLLARS!?! I almost screamed the words before I remembered where I was. The sum was staggering. I could never afford that kind of money, not with my little nest of twenty five thousand stewing in an IRA. The shoes hooked on my fingers fell to the floor and bounced away. My stomach was sick. Sex tapes. Sex tapes of me. On the internet. Who knew where else they'd end up? My mom and dad—what would they say? Videos of me being a cumdumpster for two or more men. Me begging for them to fuck me in every hole in my body.

"Felicia?" Marcos asked. "You still there?"

"Yeah." I was barely keeping it together. The wind had been knocked out of me, but I could hold on for a little bit longer.

"If this gets out, I can't represent you anymore. I have to preserve my image. I like you, I want to keep you on, but I just can't if this shit hits the fan."

"I know, Marcos." Now the tears were about to spill.

"Okay, keep in contact. Remember your shoot tomorrow."

"I can't, Marcos. I can't go out tomorrow. I gotta deal—"

I could practically feel Marcos trying to rub my back through the phone, his tone was so soft. "Hey now, listen to me. You have to keep working. Besides, it's a punk shoot for Blender. You just have to stand there and look pissed. James is the guy. He'll help you through it."

We said our goodbyes, and I quickly left Bloomingdale's. I didn't want to call anyone, especially not my parents. Not after I'd just told them my amazing news. I couldn't talk to Margaret about it. Not after persuading her to avoid the porn industry like the plague. Adrienne was my only option. I called her and went straight to her voicemail. I tried her again when I got home, but the same thing happened.

The rest of the day was one of the worst of my life. I can't remember ever feeling so sick, so completely alone, and so fucking helpless. I cried off and on through the night, finally falling asleep around 3AM. Adrienne's phone never answered, leaving me to believe she'd probably broken it again. My eyelids seemed to have rubber bands attached to my face because whenever I tried to open them, they instantly closed. When reality hit me, and I realized the mess I was still in, a fresh wave of despair hit me.

I came very close to calling in sick. But I needed the money now more than ever. I made myself coffee and left looking like anything but a model. Trudy recognized something was wrong the moment she saw me. Our makeup session was one of our longest together, but we hardly talked. She tried a couple of times to pry information out of me and gave up quickly. She had to paint artificial tattoos on my neck and arms, plus my face had to be painted heavily for a semi-hot gothic look. Trudy nailed it, and despite my foul temper, I thanked her, almost crying as I did so.

James hardly had to give me any directions. I was pissed and it showed. He loved it. The shoot went fast, he got what he needed after a half hour, and that was it. I didn't even care about scrubbing the paint off me, I just headed for the door. James stopped me before I could get out.

"Don't you want to see the shots?"

"Not really," I told him. "I'm busy."

"No, you're not. You're angry. But this is our tradition, and you got to respect that." He led me over to his computer and showed me his favorites. "You want to tell me what's up?"

"Nothing," I muttered. I felt like a bitch, but I couldn't tell James about my problems.

"I've never seen you like this, Felicia. You're one of the happiest models I've ever worked with. You're what Trudy and I call one of the 'good ones.'" His smile was genuine, and I saw something in James I'd never bothered to see before. I saw a kind person, completely unlike most men I'd known. I saw a chivalry or a nobility that few men ever tap into. It's a quality that people like Ben have, the goodness that they actually use instead of ignore.

"I'm nothing like what you think," I muttered. "I'm a terrible person."

My face contorted with misery, and James, recognizing it immediately, pulled me away to a place where we were alone. He pulled me into a strong hug and rocked me softly.

"I'm a slut, James. A disgusting slut."

I sobbed as I told him everything I'd done with Damien and his friends. My whole body quaked as it released all the pent up emotion I'd been harboring for the last several days but never quite released. I don't know why it was James who had the cathartic effect I needed, but for whatever reason, he unleashed it all and patiently accepted it. Even after I'd finished speaking, he held me tight and stroked my hair until all the sobbing and shaking had subsided.

I'd always seen James as a friend, as a nice guy who took good pictures and cracked some nice jokes to keep things from getting too tense during a shoot. Now I saw him as a wonderful person who I felt a strong pull to get to know better. Unfortunately, I didn't think that chance would come as my modeling days might soon be finished and he now knew the depths of my sordidness.

"Have you talked to Damien since all this came out?" he asked me.

I shook my head no.

"Okay, I have a lawyer friend. We dated a few years back. She handles privacy cases like this. Let me give her a call."

An hour later, we were at lunch in a soup shop a few blocks away. James was with me, holding my hand (because I simply wouldn't let his go), even though I looked like a rip-off of Avril Lavigne. His friend was a beautiful redhead named Sarah Patterson who had nothing but sympathy for me.

"So let me get this straight: you suspected you were being filmed, but weren't for sure. He filmed every one of your sexual encounters, and never informed you about it. Now he wants a quarter of a million in payment or he's publicizing them."

"Correct," I told her.

Sarah and James exchanged a look. She took a long sip from her coffee as she scribbled notes with her free hand. I felt stupid. The more I talked about my story, the more I wondered what drug I'd been on that had so completely overpowered my rational thought.

"If this goes to court, you're going to lose," she said. "Our best bet is to get this over with quickly. The good news is that, and no offense, you're really not worth it to him to face the legal battle. You're not famous."

"Yet," James added with a sly wink.

"Sure, but even still it's a long shot for anyone to become a celebrity. And that makes the tapes less valuable. Not even worth a quarter of a million. I'll tell him about my history in these cases, that I don't often lose, and that I'm prepared to pursue this all the way to the top, and we'll see if he reneges. If he doesn't, we'll start taking appropriate actions to sue, and see if he backs off then. If not, we'll have to go at this case from the angle of him trying to extort you rather than simply sell off the tapes. Like I said, you don't have a good chance in court, but I think you're fairly likely to get him to hand over the tapes. He's an agent, he doesn't need the bad press. He doesn't want it known that he filmed his client without her consent. He's a young impetuous moron who thinks with his dick. Not a surprise. I'd give you a ninety percent chance of everything working out just fine."

I felt better. No, that's an understatement. I felt like the entire world had been shifted back into its rightful place and all the lights in my life had been turned back on. I gave James' hand a tight squeeze and thanked Sarah for her time and advice while tears steadily dripped down my face. She left after paying her check and telling me she'd be in touch shortly. James and I stayed behind, silently finishing our drinks.

I'd had nights in the past where a dream had been so bad that when I'd woken up, I'd been in sheer terror until realizing that it'd only been a dream. The moment of bliss that followed those moments—those dreams—was indescribable. The last several hours had been the same, expect that my reality had been so terrifying that realizing it might not actually be so bad was overwhelming.

Finally I spoke as I got myself under control again. "You saved me today, James. Thank you."

James smiled. "I like you a lot, Felicia. You're special."

"I'm not special. I'm a filthy disgusting tramp."

James grabbed my hand again. "You're not. You have a weakness like everyone. That doesn't make you any worse than me. I have my own problems. So does Trudy. So does Sarah. Just because you don't know what someone else's are doesn't mean they don't exist. You know what I've noticed about you, though?"

I didn't know what he was talking about.

"I've watched you at shoots. You talk to Trudy. Lots of girls who work with her ignore her or demand stuff from her. You help other girls on the set instead of treating them like they're the enemy. Like Margaret. For crying out loud, you took that girl in and gave her a home! How many other girls would do that?"

"I—I don't know."

"I've never met anyone like you, Felicia. You're special. You're beautiful. You have a thing for guys controlling you. That you can manage, and I think it's probably easier to manage than trying to overhaul an entire personality, which ninety percent of the girls I've met need to do."

I laughed loudly at his comment and brushed the hair out of my eyes. I wanted to kiss James then. I wanted to kiss him so hard his shoes would fly off. He saw the look in my eyes and just smiled at me.

"You're looking at me the way I've been looking at you for the past three years."

My face turned red and more fluid leaked from my eyes. I felt like a stupid leaking pipe. "Whatever."

"I'm serious. I've had a crush on you for quite a while."

"You can't feel that way now, though. Not after all this."

"It doesn't change much. I think it just means we can take things extra slow. We can get to know each other better. And then go from there."

I felt like I was in one of those commercials where they show you your whole future in an instant and then show how it all is based on one decision. One moment. This was my moment. I wanted to find that future I could see then with James. I took his hand in mine and locked my fingers tightly into his.

"That sounds great."


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The End
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Posted:  2010-12-30
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