****** The Porn Model by Whiff ******
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The Porn Model


(originally Still Life in Blue)

It's funny how people react to what I do. Usually, it happens at parties when
one of my friends tells a small group, a couple of drinks after I arrive.
Actually, it pisses me off a little, as though taking pornographic pictures was
my life's work. I've always figured I'd go on to something else, after I build
up a nest egg, which is easy to do. There aren't that many good guys in the
business, so if you can focus well, understand light and filters, have a little
imagination, the dummies that run the business are nuts for your work. It's big
money.

But that isn't what people care about. All of them, men and women alike, get
this look in their eyes, a combination of curiosity, excitement, and edginess.
They find a lot of different ways to talk to me about it. Some women will just
come up and ask "What's it like taking pictures of people fucking?" Not many,
but when that happens, and they're good looking, I know I have a prospective
model. Men are most often blunter, starting with something like "Do you get to
fuck 'em?" or "What's it smell like?" I tell 'em yes, and sweaty. It's what
they want to hear. The smell actually depends on the perfume the models wear.

Most women tiptoe around it. They try to be subtle, cool, but for some reason
the anxiety, the stimulation, always shows. I guess I'm Temptation, in the
flesh. It's rare that I get an ear beating, though not unheard of. But it's
very hard to get me angry. When you spend your working hours with beautiful
naked women, rarely missing a day without fucking at least one of them, you are
very placid. The only trouble is, I have this tendency to undress them
mentally. And they all know I'm doing it. I've missed getting to know some very
nice ladies because they walked off in a huff.

Some men are almost hilarious trying to hide their envy. "Must get old after a
while."

"Seen one, seen 'em all, eh?" I tell 'em no, every pussy is different, every
woman a new experience, every session a surprise. That pisses 'em off. My
buddies like watching all the different reactions. Most of them have watched a
session or two, though never one of the steamier ones that ends in my getting
laid. They think that happens, because I do boast a bit when I get sloshed, but
it's fun to keep 'em guessing.

Denise was one of the women who came up to me the minute she found out my
vocation and bluntly asked "How much does a girl get paid to pose nude?" I have
a pat answer for that, since it's a sliding scale, depending on how pretty she
is, how big her tits are, how good her body is, and how willing she is. My
first session with a woman, when she's a Net virgin, I usually make a deal with
her that she'll get a minimum, and more if one of the slick magazines likes her
look. You know, Playboy, Penthouse, those. If she's willing to do a fuck
series, that excludes the slicks, but the money's a lot better, particularly
for someone fresh and good looking. When I told Denise she could probably make
ten g's for two hours work, if her body was as neat as it looked, her eyes lit
up. "How can you be sure?"

That party was at Joe's house, the one up in the hills with the neat patio
around a swimming pool. She was a tall, full figured brunette in her mid
twenties, in a loose black chemise, but nicely made up, with long legs. Her
face had a dark, sensual aspect that was often hard to catch in photographs,
but with her wide mouth, large eyes, and deep tan, she was a good prospect. It
was about ten, and most people would start drifting home soon, since things
start early in tinseltown. "Wait 'til things clear out, and skinny dip for me."
I said, in my best matter of fact tone. She looked at me in a calculating way,
then just grunted "Okay" and walked off.

By midnight, there were three naked girls in the pool, and Joe and Arthur were
after them. But the girls were just teasing, you can tell, and I was about to
head home when I saw Denise come out of the pool house. Her hair was still up,
she had her three inch heels on, but aside from that, true to her word, she was
bareass. You could see she worked out. Her hips were slim, those long legs
beautifully formed, and her tummy was flat and rippled a little as she walked
toward the shallow end. It was her tits and pussy that made my cock jump most
uncharacteristically. I mean, I'm supposed to be a professional.

Her boobs are just the right size for porn, big, firm, with small nipples that
get hard real easily. I have a keen eye for surgery, and she hadn't had any.
They were Italian naturals, the best there is. There was no tan line at all on
her chest. She had her pubic hair shaved in a thin rectangle, then nude
underneath, with a very deep slit. There was a pale triangle there. She stopped
at the set of steps that led down into the pool, and looked at me. She glanced
at the others, who were preoccupied with the nymphettes in the deep end, then
faced me, spread her legs, and pulled her outer labia apart.

Her inner lips were nicely formed, not wrinkled much, and she had an outsize
clitoris. From my distance, about ten feet, I couldn't see if it had a head,
but it stuck out a good inch as she used a finger to pull the hood up. She must
have practiced in the mirror, because you have to know what you're doing to get
just the right pressure so all the flesh doesn't flatten. My cock lurched
again, she saw it, smiled, and took her hands away. Then she stepped into the
pool, wading in, submerging to the neck, then turned, wiggling her nice ass as
she walked back up to her shoes, slipped them on again, and quickly disappeared
into the pool house.

She was back in five minutes, her face a little flushed, but dressed, looking
put back together nicely. A little tendril of hair had dropped across her brow,
and my cock twitched again. It was a hell of a look, the sophisticated lady a
little sexy. "Well?" I realized I'd been holding my breath as she walked up to
me, and exhaled. "Sure, baby. Ten grand, no problem. But listen, you have a
great body, we could do a glamour package, try for the slicks, maybe make a
career for you. Once you've been fucked on the Net, you can't go back."

She was watching me with that calculating look. I suddenly realized she was
smart, holding my eyes, knowing the effect she was having on me. Her arm came
up to my elbow. "Nope, just a one time thing, but I want the money in advance,
okay? I mean, the day I do it. And it has to be before next Friday. Give me
your number and I'll call you in the morning."

It isn't that girls rarely do this to get quick money. That's probably thirty
percent of them. But rarely are they willing to jump right into hardcore, and
pretty ones almost always want to try more legit, less raunchy things first. As
I fumbled with my business card, which reads "Guillaume, Fashion Photography"
she kept hold of my elbow. When she glanced at the card, her eyebrows raised. I
smiled, and told her "Guillaume is French for William. Bud jou kin call me
Bill."

She grinned for the first time that I had seen, and stretched up to kiss my
cheek lightly. She did it in that confident way women who are sure of their
beauty have. "You're saving my life, Bill. Will you be there by ten?"

Two

We did the shoot the next Tuesday afternoon. I had three glamour sessions in
the morning with girls who were fucking a couple of the Mafia guys who
controlled several porn sites, and one of them wanted to get it on with me, but
I ducked her. I was hoping to get lucky with Denise. She came in as I was
sitting at my desk near the door, chomping on a Pastrami sandwich, thinking
there might be money to be made if you could fly the real thing in from New
York.

She looked completely different. She had on very heavy makeup, purple eye
shadow, false eyelashes, black lipstick, like a whore. Her hair was hanging
down, over her shoulders, but had a freshly waved look. In a set of tight lime
pants and a halter, she could have been a lot of the models I had worked with,
except better looking. I suppose my face lit up when she came in, and she
smiled at me. "Like the look, babe?" But her hand holding what looked like a
makeup case was tight and tense. The other hand shook a little as she pushed
hair out of her eyes.

I stared at her a moment, wondering if the way she was made up was what I
needed, until I realized she wanted to hide her identity as best she could.
That's not unusual either, and she was obviously knowledgable enough to use
makeup well. She sensed my question, and whispered "I worked on seventh avenue
years ago. In separates. Before..." Then she stopped. Before I got married, I
suspected she was going to say. But I left it alone.

The guy who had advanced me the cash on my word about how good looking she was
hadn't wondered about anything but the size of her tits. So he wasn't expecting
the Denise I had first met. But her nervousness was a problem. I pulled my
drawer open and quickly grabbed a reefer. It's the best for making first timers
relax. I lit it, and handed it to her. "Hi Denise. You look great, terrific.
Can't have you edgy, though. Do this whole thing. It's good stuff. The dressing
room's over there, take everything off, and rub the lines from your pants away.
Then find one of those black loose things that fits. We'll do some solo shots.
Danny's coming about two thirty."

You have to be businesslike when you start, because it takes time for the girls
to get into a sexy frame of mind out in the open, with the lights bright, not
realizing that the little space around them is all that will show in the pics.
As she looked around at my big loft, a beach set, a bed set, and a living room
set spread around, she took a dazed, but experienced toke from the cigarette.
She closed her eyes as she held the smoke deep in her lungs, then smiled as she
exhaled. "Yeah, it is good shit. Got my money?"

For me, even with a woman like Denise that turned me on, the process of getting
good pictures is clinical. She was willing, but a trifle clumsy. Not that she
was ashamed of her body, or nervous about her nudity. You see that sometimes.
No, she was just inexperienced at posing, which looks easier than it really is.
Fortunately, I had plenty of time, so I just let her slowly get used to it,
first the peek-a-boo with the negligee, then the full spread crotch shots, then
the masturbation. "Great, great tits, Denise. Grin a little, uh huh, right,
right, yeah, show 'em, babe." Then, "Spread it, babe. Lift your knees. Right.
Make it gap, there, mmmm."

I saw the first signs of heavy lidded passion when she was touching herself.
She was a sexy woman. Danny was late, so I took some close ups of her face,
trying to get different looks. She asked for another joint, but I told her I
wanted her loose, not comatose. If you look at very much of the stuff on the
Net, you know when the girls are flying high, and it isn't what you want.

She wasn't a natural exhibitionist, but by taking lots of shots, I thought I
could get enough good poses. That's my job, after all. Danny came in as she was
doing a lick your lips kind of thing, naked on her back on the bed. He
whistled. I saw her smile, but I knew Danny did that with all the models. Then,
as he came over and shook her hand, he got a lech kind of look, and whistled
again. That was new.

I work with him a lot. He tries for a greek god look, blonde hair, real buffed,
nice features. And, of course, a big cock. But he's no mental giant. He
stripped down right there, and got on the bed, flat on his back beside her.
They looked at each other. Denise nervously whispered "Hi Danny." He grinned,
reached down and flipped his dong at her, and answered "Hey doll, you're gonna
love it." She flushed, but did ogle his tool.

Like all photographers, I have this line of patter that varies mostly based on
the experience of the models. Denise needed a lot of coaching. "Arch a little,
baby. Hips up, yeah, like that. Now hold a second, there, got it. Nice." You
have to build up their confidence too. "You look great from this angle, Denise.
Wow. Look, try to flex your pussy, okay? Good, good, a little more, right. Uh
huh. Okay, go ahead Danny. Work her. Right. Keep it up. Let it show, babe.
Gimme some heat, mmmm, that's sexy. Nice, nice." And so on.

Deep in my heart, I thought I could get two series out of this, so if I never
saw her again, I could make some money on the second set. She hadn't used a no
smear lipstick, so I had to get her to reapply it after the kissing and
fondling lead ins. From then on, I kept them from kissing. I had seen her start
to get turned on when he fingered her cunt, and got a couple of good shots of
her wet bottom. Because of her lipstick, I had him do her dogstyle, then behind
her, both lying down, so you always got a good look at her body. She wavered
between excitement when he got her clitty, and mild distaste for the whole
event, but I would just wait for those moments to pass.

I faked his first cum, squirting my special sauce made from flour, water, and
alum on her face with his cock in the shot. It was funny, she had no problem
with that, her eyes bright, letting her tongue out. I always use a little sugar
to make it taste good, and lick it myself before the girls do, so they know
it's safe. Then I did some beach shots, but with bright red lipstick that I
lent her so it didn't smear. They did missionary position, but she was getting
tired. I was about to call a halt when I realized he was starting to hump hard.
"Billy, Billy, I gotta nut comin'."

I told him "On her pussy, Dan. Yeah, like that, up in the bellybutton, uh huh,
her tits, her tits, good." When I saw the proofs, her face was surprised, but
pleased. All the girls like to see the guys get off, it makes them feel they're
sexy. It takes a pro to let 'em shoot on their face, though. Danny collapsed
after his cum. He was always that way. I wasn't sure I had the second series,
but he was finished.

Denise lay there, wiggling just a little. She was obviously turned on, but made
no move to try to get Danny to eat her out or anything. He was sort of waiting
for that, but once he saw she wasn't interested, he winked at me, then sighed,
dressed, and let himself out. I kept trying to get a good shot of her flushed
beauty, snapping around her as she lay on the bed..

Finally, I whispered "All done, babe. You were terrific. Really good for the
first time." I was at her feet, on my knees, and she seemed to wake from a
trance, and looked down her body at me. Then she smiled. It was a sexy smile,
her eyes lidded, as her hands made little twitches at her hips. "Geez, that was
funny. I was wet, Bill, but never even got close to cumming. He did, didn't he?
I suppose they always do." She pushed herself up to a sitting position, slowly,
languidly. I took a quick snap of her jism coated body. She asked "Do you have
a shower?"

When she came out, she had her shoes on, but still wore the black negligee. Her
eyes were bright, staring at me. "Do I have to go?" I smiled, probably with an
eager expression. "Nah, babe, you're my last of the day." She strutted over to
me, letting the black gauze swirl, showing off. "You are a bastard, Bill. You
know I'm turned on, don't you? Is your cock as big as his? Who gives a shit.
Got a drink?" Her face was fresh, the makeup gone, a little redness from the
lipstick still there. She tousled her hair as she sat down and took the glass
of whiskey I offered her. I raised my glass in a toast. "I think a lot of
people are gonna want to see those shots, babe. There could be more money in it
for you. Better let me have your phone number just in case."

She grinned at me. "You're gonna get laid, darling. But you knew that, huh? Let
me sign the release, and give me the cash. But don't push it." She poured the
drink down, grabbed the bottle, got her glass half full, then perched in front
of me on the edge of my desk. "Eat me out a while first."

Her pussy tasted fresh, sweet and lovely. There was a little head on the clit,
and it twitched delightfully when I sucked it and flicked my tongue at it. I
knew Danny had done the same thing, but she reacted a lot harder to my mouth.
Her hips started humping into me, as she gasped "Shit, shit, shit, good, ohhhhh
Billlllllll." I'd have loved to get her off that way, to taste the difference
in her cream when she came, but suddenly she pushed me away. "Hunh uh, baby, I
don't do that multiple shit. Just one big one."

She dragged me over to the bed, letting the robe slide off, wiggling her hips.
I pulled off my tee shirt, pushed down my pants, damn near tripping as we
stumbled, finally falling together onto the dark satin sheets. She twisted to
her back, pulling her legs up, opening herself up to me. Her hand beat mine to
my prick, and she pulled me into her. I sunk my spasming tool deep in her body,
fighting the urge to shoot. I pumped a couple of times, then felt her hole
suddenly open, then start to vibrate. I reared up and saw her eyes shut tight,
her teeth biting her lip, as she froze under me. I waited, then stroked again,
and she screamed. Honest.

"Cum, cum, cum, fuck fuck fuck." At the top of her lungs. Then her hips started
humping wildly, her pubic bone dragging against the top of my rigid dong, as
she scraped her clit. She was huffing and puffing. It was all I could do to
stay on top of her, with no chance of sustaining movement of my cock inside her
sopping wet box. After a couple of minutes, she calmed down, sighed, then
opened her eyes. "Ah baby, you didn't get there, go ahead, I'm okay now, fuck
my wet pussy, shoot your hot jizz up there, mmmmmmm yes, yes."

I pumped hard, figuring she wouldn't be able to cum again, and the thought
seemed to make it harder for me. I fucked and fucked, on my elbows, kissing her
wildly, our eyes locked when we came up for air, as I tried to get there. Then
I saw her eyes widen, and felt urgency in her writhing hips as they started
meeting my thrusts. "Bill, Bill, I......oh my god, oh, oh, oh." Our lips
locked, her legs gripped my hips harder, we pummeled each other, and I felt the
tingle of onrushing orgasm. "Okay babe, here I come, what a sweet fuck" I
groaned.

I had my head buried in her neck, humping like mad, when suddenly I heard her
moan. That set me off, and as I squirted into her, she twisted against me, and
I felt the telltale contraction of climax in her again spasming cunt. Fellas,
we all know, one nut is about the same as another, but this one seemed at the
time really wild to me. I felt like I was pissing spunk. And the thrills were
awfully powerful. At least in my memory.

Meanwhile, she was babbling "Son of a bitch, damn, fuck, oh Bill fuuuuuuuuck."
Even as my prick began to deflate, she kept rubbing her pubic bone against me
and moaning. I finally came to rest on top of her, again sensitive to her
lovely tits pillowing on my chest, the smell of her musky cream all around us,
but she kept undulating gently. We finally looked into each others' eyes,
smiling, as she breathed "That never happened to me before, Bill. Twice. And
both terrific. God almighty."

We lingered there. I didn't want to let her get up, knowing that would finish
it. She stayed, smiling at me. After ten minutes, a really nice ten minutes,
kind of cuddling and kissing lightly, she shook her head, looked at my
watch,and gasped "Shit. I have to shower again. God, were you juicy. Can I have
my money?"

Three

She called me two weeks later. I had told her it would be a couple of weeks
before I would know where the series would show up. The guy had three sites. It
turned out I had a second good series from the beach set, though I had to mix
in a couple of her close ups. I told her about the second series. She said
"Save it for a rainy day, Bill. Look, I can't talk long. Do you have a password
for, what did you say, CyberSexy?" I gave her mine. "I'd like to see you again
Denise. Please? Just tell me when and where."

She chuckled. "Yeah, it was good, wasn't it? Maybe I'll call you sometime,
Bill. But thanks for the memories." I never saw her at any parties again, and
when I asked Joe who she was, he said there wasn't any Denise at his party. "I
would remember a gal that neat, Bill. Man, that's some series. I downloaded
every shot." I kept the second series, and most of the close-ups for myself,
and would occasionally look at 'em on my computer. I had about given up ever
seeing her again. It bothered me, the way she hung in my mind. Especially since
I got a lot of calls wanting to see more of her. Apparently, CyberSexy put on
more new members the week she started to run than any other period in their
short history.

So her voice on the phone six months later sent a tingle through me that was
most unusual. I am a professional, after all. "Hi Guillaume, remember me?"

"Denise. Of course I remember you. How are you? I had a lot of calls about you.
Want to make some more money?"

She sighed, sounding depressed. "Yeah, but listen. Can we do something that
gets me twenty five large? I, uhh, find myself in a tough spot. And I'm in a
hurry again." That was a big number, way out of line, but I thought about the
other series, and the excitement she had generated already. These dopes that
run the porn sites aren't brilliant, but they have long memories. "You'll have
to let me make a few calls, babe. Maybe, it's doable. Give me your number and
I'll let you know."

That made her chuckle. "I'm flattered you're so persistent, Bill. I'll call you
back in an hour." I told her to make it two. I worked two of the guys against
each other. When she got back to me, I told her "Best I could do was two series
plus the old one they haven't seen. One of the series has to be a threesome.
And you'll have to get a little nastier, y'know, a double, and spunk on the
face. But that's all worth thirty." I wasn't sure how she'd react to the nasty
demands, but all she did was sigh with what sounded like relief, and ask
"When?" She must have needed the money bad.

I had to block out a whole day, and she got there right on time, made up
somewhat differently than the last time. "No smear lipstick, Bill. How are
you?" She gave me a little peck on the cheek. Up close, I could see a little
wooziness in her eyes, a look I recognized as the spacey way someone using coke
gets. When she saw the recognition in my eyes, she blushed, but muttered "Won't
need grass today, honey."

She showed me the two bikini's she had brought at my request. I had her put on
the white one, and we did a group of beach poses, as she slowly came down. I
had an old pro, a guy named Rocko, lined up for the morning, and when he showed
up, she went back to the dressing room "To potty." She came back high again.

Rocko has a humongous cock, but it didn't even faze her. He couldn't get it in
her ass, though she tried, but she took the whole thing in her pussy. Her body
was as good as ever, and the whole morning I kept feeling edgy about the drug
use, wondering if that was why she needed money. She hit again about eleven,
after taking his nut on her face, and giving me some good shots of the gunk in
her mouth. It was as though she was completely comfortable with the perverse
requirements of porn. Or maybe resigned to it.

We did the intro shots after the actual sex, both of them dressed as they set
up the beach fuck. Rocko's kind of a tightass, and left as soon as we were
done. Denise was in just the white thong, and attacked me the moment he left.
As we stood there beside a big floodlight, kissing wildly, she ground at me,
groaning. When she pulled away, she breathed "Still didn't get off, darling.
Even with that big cock. Shit, c'mon, it must be you."

She was wild, making me lie down while she straddled my hips, no foreplay, her
pussy wet as hell. Somehow, though, it wasn't what I had remembered. I just
waited until she got off, then shot up into her. It was a very ordinary nut.
She slumped down on me and started to cry. "It wasn't like before, I know,
damn, damn, oh Bill I'm sorry. It's probably the fucking coke."

She went back to shower, and came out made up with different colors, a
different look, and high again. But she still looked kind of sad. We had a
pizza for lunch, which she washed down with my bourbon. She headed for the
dressing room again after lunch, but I grabbed her arm. "Denise, look, don't
hit again. You'll look too spacey, y'know, I mean the camera picks it up. You
can do without for a couple of hours, can't you? Please?"

She looked at me strangely, it was a defeated kind of look, as though she was
giving up on something. "Yeah, I'm a mess, huh. I'm sorry, Bill. Okay, I won't,
I promise. I need the money." She was a little drunk on top of it, and
staggered back to freshen her makeup. I held my breath. But she came out
quickly, in the loose dress for the outside shots, and was okay.

Retelling a thing like this, you always think you saw it coming. There was
something wrong in her life, and I swear I had a bad feeling. Still, it took me
by surprise. Danny got there, and the other guy who had become so popular with
some of the italians was right behind. Denise was standing with her back to the
door talking to Danny when he came in. Cicero, that's what he calls himself,
comes strutting in like he owns the place, and says "Okay my friend, who's the
cunt today? Hope she's better than that one this morning, what a loser. Let's
have a look. Nice ass. I.....Bea, what the fuck......Are you the cunt? Why you
fucking whore."

His voice had jumped an octave when he saw her face, and both Danny and I got
there just before he could hit her. I grabbed his arm while Danny wrapped his
arms around him, and we wrestled him to the floor. I looked at Denise, and she
was startled. Then she started to scream. "You bastard, is this what you've
been doing since you got canned? You fucking cocksucker. Moonlighting for
fucking ADP, indeed." Her face was livid, and she jumped on Cicero and punched
him before either Danny or I could react. Fortunately, she hit him on the
shoulder, and even if there was going to be bruising, it wouldn't show until
later. I let go and grabbed her, but she kept wiggling, trying to get at him.

We kept hold of them while they screamed at each other. "I had to do something
to keep you in the fucking apartment so you could impress your slut friends,
whore."

"ADP, ADP, you rotten putz, what happens when someone sees the pictures,
asshole? You'll never get another job." All this at the top of their lungs.
Then, it was as though the air went out of a balloon. They relaxed, and glared
at each other, Cicero from the floor, Denise over my shoulder as I held her.
They were both breathing hard. I felt her body almost collapse, and she broke
into tears. "Let me go, Bill. Please. I'll leave, what good's the money now?
Ooooh." Tears were pouring down her face. I was trying to figure out what the
story was with one part of my mind, and wondering how to complete the shoot
with the other.

She tore loose and half staggered, half ran back to the dressing room. I turned
to Cicero, the only thought I had to try and get control of the situation.
Since he was kind of a bully, the only thing to do was bully him back. I yelled
"You've fucked up good this time, asshole. Do you think you'll ever get another
job now? Hit the fucking model? I'll tell every lens in town what a screwup you
are. Do you know how much your buddy Mario has invested in this shoot? And
you've fucked it up. Are you gonna settle down? Are you?" I was breathing hard
too.

His face, as I chewed him out, went through several phases. First, he was
defiant. Then, his look turned petulant, like a little boy who lost his candy.
Then, a glare of defeat, and I swear there might have been tears in his eyes.
In this funny little voice, he whined "How would you feel, man? Your fucking
wife shooting porn? The cunt on a two by shoot? The woman you've sacrificed
for, worked for, for five fucking years? Christ, she isn't even a good lay.
Gets off, and that's it. Sucks me dry, then this. How long's she been doing
this?" Then he stopped, a frown came on his face, and he looked up at me. I've
seen the expression before. It was guilt.

Suddenly she was standing there, back in her lime slacks. "Yeah, asshole,
that's where I got the money for your debt to Slick. Not from my mother. I
didn't even tell you he came last week. He was pissed that I wouldn't let him
in. What have you been doing with the money? Betting with him? It sure wasn't
the mortgage." She looked awful, mascara streaming down her face, eyes puffy.
Then she started crying again. "Did you lose it all? With all our problems. No
wonder you can't get it up anymore. Oh shit. Bye Bill, Danny. Take care of
yourselves."

She was headed for the door, but I caught her.

Four

Which is why, if you look at that series, and sometimes I think the whole world
has, you see all the emotion. A lot of people take it for a sort of rape by the
second guy after she gets it on with Danny. I made Cicero put on a suit while I
took the early shots, so you could maybe think he was the boss. Or her husband.
But an uptight, white collar type. And that was the way it came off. She glared
at him when he was up her ass, and it sure looked like real anger. Because it
was.

All that emotion and adrenaline cancelled out the coke she used to get back to
posing. I've always considered that my finest hour as a photographer, getting
not just a good series from those two, but a great one. I had she and Danny
coming up the stairs, her tits hanging out, then a decent build up, and Cicero
showing up as they started to fuck. She let Danny shoot on her face, but Cicero
lost it in her ass, while she was screaming at me that she was no way gonna eat
his jizz. I think if you look at the pics again, you know, the whole series,
which you have to piece together, you'll see the truth. But without knowing the
story, in several versions, it looks like a real sexy threeway.

Rocco was pissed at me. "Sexiest fucking woman on the Net and all I got was a
grand. Not even a good piece of ass." Danny took Cicero to a bar as soon as we
finished, while Denise went home, got some clothes, and came back to my place.
She liked my apartment. "Very New York modern, Bill. The asshole insisted on
fucking Colonial. In L.A., for Christ's sake."

We showered together. She was coming down, but when I told her I wouldn't mind
if she hit, she said "No, fuck it. I just got started with him, trying to
forget all the shit we were in. Who'd have thought the nicest man I ever met
would be a fucking pornographer. Oooh, that feels nice. Uh huh, right there.
Get it, yeah that's it. Oh shit. You really do know women's bodies. Mmmm, like
that, huh? And this? Yeah. Oh no, don't. It's sore as hell. The asshole has a
big cock, that's all I can say for him. Oh, oh yeah. Oh wow. C'mon, take me,
okay. Have a good time. I owe you that, just for kindness and thirty grand. No
way can I get off after all this shit."

I took that as a challenge. For the next hour, sipping from my bourbon, we made
maybe the sexiest love I've ever had. She rode me frontwards and backwards, we
did oriental, missionary, doggie, and sitting. She got off in that position the
first time. "You son of a biiiiiitch. You did it, umph, umph, ahhhhhhh." Her
spasms gave me my nut, but I sucked her for fifteen minutes, working over her
big clitty something fierce. She was babbling most of the time. "Oh god, god,
you're so good at this, I don't usually talk so nasty, darling, but you are
such a good fucking, oooooh, I can't, ungh, believe, unh, it. Yes, yes, migod,
migod." As she came again, I reared up and entered her gaping hole, my cock so
hard it hurt. I haven't had two nuts within a quarter of an hour since I was a
teen.

Almost as soon as she came down, she started crying again. But she didn't turn
away from me, and wasn't sobbing. Just staring at me with her big eyes watering
like hell. I kept nibbling at the salty tears. Somehow I knew it had to be a
night to remember. She fell asleep a couple of times. When I thought she was
sort of half awake, I would whisper "Stay with me, darling. Please, please stay
with me." Once, she woke up, cuddled to me, and answered "Ah Bill, if only it
were that easy."

She must have burned up the phone line that night, booked a plane, and left
before I woke up the next morning. I still didn't have a number where I could
reach her. I knew it was New York, but I didn't know her maiden name. None of
the numbers on my phone bill worked. "Beatrice who?" For a couple of months, I
kept trying information, asking for Donati, Beatrice, but never found her.
After a year, I gave up. Another year later, on a shoot for Vogue (the
publisher is a great fan of porn), I was working in a rented studio in New York
with this skinny model, trying to get her to loosen up so the damn lingerie
would look good, when I felt a poke in my ribs that made me jump a foot.

I whirled around and squeaked "What the hell? You trying to......Uh. Hi Denise,
um, Beatrice. Bea. Um, how are you." She had this big grin, enjoying the
surprised expression on my face. You'd never recognize her as the woman on the
Net. New shorter hairdo, no tan, softer makeup, and she'd had her lips puffed.
"Hi Van" she called out to the model. "Hi, Bill. Moving up, I see." I broke
into a sweat, but she reached up and caressed the back of my head, then kissed
me on the cheek, closing her eyes. It was one of those moments. She whispered
"You're still the only guy who ever got me off twice, Guillaume. Buy me dinner
tonight? Here's my phone number. And leave that skinny cunt alone, okay? You'll
need your energy."

We've been married three years now. Her current record is five times in one
night, though I think she may be bullshitting about the fifth one for the sake
of my ego. I'm completely out of porn. All fashion. She makes big money with
the West Coast division of a modeling agency. She works the producers over
good, combining her sexy appearance with her sharp mind. Every once in a while,
I take pictures of her still glorious body. For my own personal enjoyment. My
substantial personal enjoyment. You should see them. But you won't.


author's note: I've never been sure what to make of this story. Sometimes they
just come out in a strange way. Let me know what you think. Email
whiff666@yahoo.com

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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