I, Porn Star (I #1)(3)

By: Zara Cox


Slowly, she turns around. I expect her gaze to drop or a touch of embarrassment to show, but she stares straight into the camera as her fingers tackle the buttons of her jeans. The zipper comes down and she shimmies the denim over her hips. Her white cotton panties are plain and the last word in unsexy. All the same, my eyes are drawn to the snug material framing her pussy lips.

I also see the hint of bush pressed behind the cotton.

I shift in my seat, but don’t reach for the hardness springing to life behind my fly. Hand jobs are a waste of my time. I either fuck or I don’t. It’s that simple.

She lowers the jeans to knee-level and twists her right leg outward. The round red disk just on the inside of her thigh is distinctive enough to need covering up. I make a mental note.

“Thank you, Lucky. You may put your clothes back on.”

A hint of surprise crosses her face, but she quickly adjusts her clothing. When she’s done, her hands return to her sides.

“It’s time for your screen test. Sweep your hair to one side and come closer. Place your hands flat on the desk, bend forward, but don’t sit down.”

She follows my instructions to the letter. I adjust the camera so it’s angled up to capture her face.

“Are you ready?”

She gives a small nod.

“You’ve just walked into a bar. You don’t know me. But you see me, the guy in the corner, nursing a bourbon. And I see you. All of you. Every fantasy you’ve ever had. I want to give it to you. You’ve found me, Lucky, the guy who wants to fuck you more than he wants his next breath. Do you see me?”

Her nostrils quiver slightly. “Yes.”

“Good. Look into the camera. Don’t blink. Show me what I want to see. Convince me that you’re worth fucking. Convince me you’re worth dying for.”

Her lids lower, her face contemplative, but she doesn’t blink or lose focus. Slowly, her expression drifts from disinterested to captivated. Her lids lift and she’s a green-eyed siren. Her attention is rapt, unwavering. Her bruised-rose lips part, but she doesn’t swirl her tongue over her lips as I expect. She just…breathes. In. Out.

She swallows, a slow movement that draws attention to her neck, then lower to her breasts. Mesmerized against my will, I watch her nipples harden against the thin material of her top. Her fingers gradually curl into the hard wood and every inhalation and exhalation becomes a silent demand.

In…fuck…out…me…

In. Fuck.

Out. Me.

I remain still, even though my fingers itch to twitch and my muscles burn with a restlessness I haven’t felt in a long time.

I watch her command the camera, her body rigid with lustful tension. Her eyes widen with the need to blink, but she doesn’t.

She stays still, hands curl into fists and she just breathes sex. Her eyes water and a tear slips down one cheek. The sight of it is curiously cathartic, a tiny climax.

I subside into my seat. “That was convincing enough. You may sit down, Lucky.”

She blinks rapidly before she sinks into the chair. A quick swipe and the tear never existed. Neither does the promise of the fuck of a lifetime that was on her face a moment ago.

Her acting skills are remarkable. For a second, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t want her to be too polished. I dismiss the notion and glance down at her notes.

“You list your address as a motel?”

The address in Queens is unfamiliar to me, but the motel chain is notorious for being exceptionally bad. I hide my distaste and wait for her answer.

“I arrived in town recently. I don’t have a permanent address yet.”

The secrets in her eyes, the threadbare clothes, the unkempt hair and unshaven pussy begin to tell their own story. She may be brave enough to sass me when she risks losing a job that promises a once in a lifetime payday, but she’s also desperate.

How desperate is the question.

“Are you currently working?”

She nods. “I work on and off for a catering service. But it’s nothing I can’t work around, if needed.”

“So you’ll be free to do this if I want you?”

The desperation escalates, then a hint of anger flashes through her eyes. “If? You mean I did all of this for nothing?”

I give a low laugh at her gumption. “You didn’t seriously think you’d waltz your way into a million dollars on a simple three-minute screen test, did you?”

The anger flees from her eyes, although her mouth tightens for a moment before she speaks. “So it’s true? It’s not a con? This job really pays a million dollars? For…sex?” she rasps.

“You think I’d admit it if it was a con?”

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