The Porn Identity Pt 01

Author's Note: I don't know why -- seventeen years after the film and thirty-nine years after the book -- I decided to write an erotic version of the Bourne Identity. There are at least two films called 'The Porn Identity' not to mention the likes of Forrest Hump, Shaving Ryan's Privates and Titty Titty Gang Bang, the titles of which make me laugh far more than they should.

I've treated it fairly lightly and made an attempt at making an erotic-thriller-comedy, which is surely a disaster-bound threesome if I ever heard of one. But if one reader laughs once, cums once and enjoys reading it once, then I count this an unqualified success!

-

My head hurts and everything's blurry.

Someone's saying something.

I blink and shake my head. Ow. I'm wet ... everything aches. Where am I?

I don't remember anything.

It's bright. I squint, seeing the outline of a female figure in front of me.

"... you ok?" She's saying

I manage to nod, which sets off a set of small explosions behind my eyes. Damn that hurts.

"Hurts," I croak, coughing salt water up. Why is there salt water in my mouth?

The world is swaying; I feel sick.

"... fell off a boat," the woman says

"Looks like they left you behind," a male voice says and I slowly turn my head. I see a guy, still fuzzy. "Not sure we can catch them up."

Everything starts to come back into focus.

"And ... uh ..." the woman says. I blink again and my vision clears. The world sways again and suddenly I know why; I'm on a boat, lying against the side as an attractive blonde woman looks at me, concerned. She's in a black swimsuit and is maybe in her mid thirties. I look over at the guy; he's well-built, sandy brown hair, swim shorts. There's another couple towards the front of the boat but I can't quite see them. I start to pull myself up and hang onto the side for a moment, just making out two small boats receding into the distance; one is bright red.

"Uh, yeah," the woman says. "I think the coastguard is chasing your friends."

"Friends?" I say, coughing again. "I'm sorry, can you ... I don't remember anything."

"You musta hit your head pretty hard," the guy says. "We fished you outta the water when it looked like you weren't moving."

"How ... how did I end up in the water?"

He passes me a bottle of water, which I accept with thanks, rinsing my mouth out and spitting over the side of the boat, then drinking some slowly. I'm still a bit dizzy.

"Well, you dived off the side of that boat," the woman says. "You swam pretty fast, but came up under our boat and hit your head. We heard it and it looked bad. Chris and I fished you out, but your friends took off pretty fast. Do ... do you want us to take you back to the beach?"

"Shit ..." I say, casting around for a familiar memory, friends, my job ... my name. "I don't remember any of that. I don't remember anything -- I ... I don't know who I am."

"We should take you to the hospital," Chris says, looking concerned. "Sounds bad if it knocked your head off kilter."

"No," I say hurriedly. "No, no need. But ... can I just sit for a while?"

"Sure," Chris says. "No problem. Uh, Sara do you want to stay with him and I'll tell Amy and Dave that we'll head back before too long?"

"Thank you," I say, gratefully sinking back against the side of the boat. My head aches horribly but the nausea is fading. There's a small cabin on the boat and I'm in the shade, thankfully. I sip the water, trying to get rid of the taste of salt in my mouth.

I take inventory, but it doesn't take long. Everything aches but I don't think I'm bleeding. I'm wearing white speedos that are pretty comfortable.

Shit. That's all I got. No name, no cash, nothing. I could be a bum on the beach or the richest man in the world for all I know.

"What's ... what's that?" Sara asks, pointing at my arm. I glance down -- there's a tattoo on my right arm, some kind of elongated triangle.

"I'm not sure," I say. "It feels ... familiar."

"Huh," she says. "Looks weird."

It kind of does. I stare at it for a while -- it's got roses or some kind of spots on it, but nothing comes back.

After a time, the pain starts to recede. Sara brings me some tablets when she doesn't think I'm going to throw up, and some potato chips that I eat ravenously.

"Uh ... hey," Chris says, coming back. "Look, we were going to find an isolated spot and chill out a bit, but do you want us to take you back, or are you happy to kick along for a bit?"

A part of my brain activates that I didn't know existed and I know exactly what he's saying.

"I'm feeling a lot better, thanks," I admit. "I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have. I'm happy to tag along and if I can help you guys at all as a thank-you, please just let me know how."

He laughs. "Well you can wash the dishes," he says. "But otherwise we've always got room for another friend on-board."

"Oh I'm happy to help you out," I say. "And I always help a friend along."

He gives a cheeky grin and I think I'm in -- but into what, I'm not sure. My brain seems to be operating on two levels and right now they're not talking to each other. Still, I lever myself up and find the small galley where I wash up some plates and plastic pint glasses. Everything's tidy -- I wonder if it's a rental. There seems to be quite a lot of booze lying around.

"So what do we call you?"

I spin around, seeing the other woman -- Amy -- come into the room. She's a redhead, not slim, but her cleavage is almost spilling out of her small bikini and she's got a naughty look about her; I like her straight away.

"I ... I don't remember," I say, as I finish the washing up and dry my hands. She scoops up a beer from the cooler and tosses it to me. I snag it out of the air and crack it open.

"Hey, nice catch with a concussion -- and no catcher's mitt," she laughs, scooping one up from the counter-top. I guess they must play ball a lot.

"Mitt," I say. "That sounds familiar. That'll do for now."

She shrugs and nods. "Sure," she says. "Why not? But look, we're a few miles out and the seas are clear. We're going to get crazy. You can either join us or stay in here, no questions asked."

"I'm game," I say. "If ... if it's no trouble?"

"Trouble?" she grins. "We actively encourage trouble."

I follow her out to the rear of the boat where the others are sat around a table. I shake the last guy's hand, Dave, a brawny bald guy. He's got tattoos too, but doesn't say anything about mine.

"Uh, well how are we going to do this?" Dave says. "Mitt got no money and he don't remember a thing. Doesn't that put him out of the game except for one or two things?"

Sara looks at me sympathetically. "Mitt, normally we gamble for embarrassing truths about ourselves, or money ... but ... well..."

I nod. "Truths like...?"

"Like the last time you got naked on the beach," Amy giggles.

A memory flits into my head. "Two weeks ago," I say, trying to make it stay put. "Tijuana. I remember ... two other women, both naked. We ... ran all the way down the beach embarrassing all the frat parties. They tried to take photographs, but we were too fast."

Then it goes. "Shit," I say. "That's all I got. Hey -- maybe this game will help me!"

Amy giggles. "Well, for that I vote him in and I'll lend you ten dollars. Glad we picked you out of the sea and not some old fisherman in a checked shirt. Anyone else feeling kind?"

Dave shakes his head, so Amy glares and pushes two tens at me instead of one. Chris does the same but Sara blushes and stays put. Ok, forty dollars. More than I've had all day, far as I know.

"Ok," Chris says. "The stake as usual is $20, one item of clothing or a dare. Mitt, you know how to play poker?"

I ... I think I do. I nod.

"Great, then let's start. Highest hand gives a dare if it's requested instead of cash, next best avoids dares or taking off clothes but loses their stake. Two, no three losers get full consequences -- and no-one plays with more than a hundred dollars."

Not only do I know how to play poker, but I seem to know how to cheat at poker as well. I stack the deck in my favour for the next two games as everyone tries to follow my lightning shuffle. I deal, swapping a single card to make it look like I'm trying, before I lay down the straight.

"Beginner's luck," I grin. "I'll be paying back those lenders in no time."

Amy grins -- she's got a flush, leaving Sara, Chris and Dave thinking about their options.

"Uh, take it all," Chris says, and the others nod. I pass the deck to Amy and thankfully, she doesn't even shuffle, giving me two pairs from the get-go. Again, I change a card, but lay down my hand making everyone groan.

"Damn Mitt," Dave says. "You're a real poker demon."

"Mitt Demon," I say, getting the sense of it. "I like the sound of that."

They laugh and it takes the tension out of the moment.

Then Chris wins the next round and things start to get interesting.

"Hey Chris," Amy says, waggling the strap of her bikini. "I'll give you this for $20?"

He grins. "Well sure," he says. "Anyone else?"

I think quickly. I have no idea whether I'll have any money onshore. I'll need money for a hotel, some phone calls, some internet time ... best not lose what cash I have. I put my hand up, and so does Sara. I'm not afraid of a little nudity.

"Well fine," he says, raking back just one twenty.

Amy unfastens her bikini at the back and Chris' eyes go wide. She's got magnificent tits; great little pink areolas and small perky nipples. Sara doesn't waste any time in following suite, although her tits aren't quite as big, they're still great. I stand up and -- feeling weird that I don't feel any sense of shame in this -- pull off my speedos.

Amy whistles. "Damn," she says. I glance down at my penis. It's fairly large, but it's my dick, I'm used to it.

"Wow," Sara says. "Nice."

Chris coughs. "Ok, ok, first man is naked," he calls. "In line with house rules, he tells a truth or does a dare."

"Oh, dare me," I say. "I'm your guest, so I owe you to make it interesting."

He laughs. "Ok, well technically we're all in couples, but on the boat, everything's more relaxed, no boundaries. So I dare you to let Amy hold that magnificent cock of yours before she dies of wanting."

I laugh, completely unfazed for some reason, and step over to Amy. She bites her lip and glances at Chris, who nods. She leans in and wraps her fingers around my cock, which starts to stir and get hard. It feels good.

"Woah," Sara whistles and everyone stares. Abruptly, Amy lets go and I step back, letting my half-hard cock flop back down. I sit back down in the chair, everyone else blushing. Why am I not blushing?

I win the next round, just, but Amy and Sara both offer their bikini bottoms for money. I see the guys starting to get jealous -- or rather, Dave is jealous -- Chris looks intrigued. It's odd, I would have put him with Sara, but that doesn't seem to be the case from the nod earlier.

"Well, since Amy held my junk, she can lose the bottoms, but Sara -- sorry, I don't accept that."

Dave is almost out of cash, which I think is adding to his frustration, but he stares eagerly as Amy strips out of her bikini bottoms, showing a pussy that is shaved smooth. Damn, she is hot. She's got a bit of a tummy, but her boobs are big and she's got a dirty smile that I really, really like.

Sara whistles appreciatively and the guys stare. She waggles her hips and sits back down.

I lose the next round -- thankfully, Dave wins. Chris offers his speedos, and Sara makes the offer again. He nods, and they strip at the same time, Chris showing a formidable cock and trimmed pubes, Sara also completely shaved. I whistle appreciatively and he grins at me.

"Ok, second and third people naked and two people naked simultaneously," he says. "Sexy dares all round and I'm calling it."

"Sara, give Chris a blowjob for thirty seconds. If he cums, he loses half his money, half to you and half to me. If not, other way around. Amy, same deal with Mitt."

Before I know what's happening, the naughty redhead is kneeling in front of me, taking my cock in her hand and then her mouth.

Damn that feels good. She's free with her tongue as Dave slowly counts up to ten. I'm enjoying the waves of pleasure travelling up and down my cock, but somehow I can send my brain to another place where I can just enjoy it, let it build as I dimly register Dave getting to twenty.

At twenty five, Chris flushes crimson and Sara jumps a little but then steels herself and makes a conscious effort to keep her mouth on his cock, swallowing as Dave laughs.

"Thirty..." he says. "Damn it Mitt, Sara's normally got skills."

He pushes money around the table. I'm up to $250, but Amy only has twenty dollars left. I push thirty dollars at each of them, trying to lessen Chris' embarrassment as he gets up, dick still dripping.

"Here, with interest," I say. "Thanks."

Chris nods as he heads to the galley to wash himself, Sarah just downing the rest of her beer.

"Double or nothing," Sara says. "I'm horny as fuck; I don't usually get the chance to handle three cocks at once."

Dave grins. "Sure," he says, dealing.

I lose. Badly. Sara wins. I don't want to lose $40.

"Hey, Sara," I say. "I'll give you two dares for $40."

She grins and nods. "Sure thing. Anyone else?"

Amy nods too. Chris looks embarrassed and just slides the money over, as does Dave, who looks on interested.

"Sara," she says. "Give Mitt ten spanks over the side of the boat. Mitt, thank Sara by kissing her mouth, nipples and pussy."

"Recording privilege," Dave calls out.

"Dave has called for recording," Amy says. "He will own the recording if he gives everyone twenty dollars, a dare, or his trunks. Any objections?"

No-one says anything, and Dave gives me, Sara and Chris twenty dollars, then Amy his trunks. He's got a good dick, but he's really hairy.

I stand up and lean out over the side of the boat, enjoying the view.

Damn! Sara hits my ass, hard. The noise rings out across the water -- she's done this before.

For a moment I enjoy the pain, then it stings. After four, each one hurts a little more. After eight, my ass is going numb.

"Ten," she says, savouring her handiwork. I stand up, sore, then turn around and grin. "Nice," I say, leaning in. Our lips meet.

After a moment of surprise, she kisses me back with an intensity I'd not imagined. It takes a moment for me to tear myself away, just as her tongue is probing my mouth. Shit.

I lean down and kiss one small nipple until it stands upright, then the other. I kneel down on the hard decking and lean into her, spreading her slightly and licking her pussy from bottom to top, making her exhale, hard, before I give her clit a little go with the tip of my tongue, which makes her moan softly. "Damn Mitt," she says, just so the two of us can hear. "Fuck."

I lean back and grin at the camera, standing up and returning to the table. A moment later, so does Amy.

I win the next round, putting Chris and Dave out of the game -- or at least, broke.

"First player broke," Dave says. "Dare exemption. First player made another bankrupt, triple trouble dare on next round."

Chris nods, and I glance around. No-one disagrees. "You staying in?" Chris asks, and Dave nods

"Triple trouble?" I ask

"Yeah," Chris says. "Either triple money, or basically sex."

He wins the next round and grins. "Any dares?"

Everyone puts their hands up except Sara, who hands over $60. Amy hands over her last money. "Second player broke," she says. "Reduce by one."

Everyone seems to know these rules -- is this a common game, I wonder?

"Amy, give Dave a blowjob," Chris says. "Mitt, take Amy from behind. How long can you last in a real pussy, I wonder? First to finish is the only one who finishes."

At this level of arousal, I know I can last for approximately five and a half minutes. I know my erection can stay up if I concentrate for twice that. I know that the best place to find condoms is probably in the galley and that Chris is almost certainly bisexual.

How do I know that? How would anyone know that?

Why can't I fucking remember anything, except fucking?

Damn. But I don't have time to think about it as Amy sprawls on top of the table and -- without any hands -- starts sucking on Dave's dick. Chris tosses me a condom, which I hurriedly slip on. I stroke my fingertips up the back of Amy's legs, finishing at her pussy, which is warm and wet. Deftly I slip my cock into her and start thrusting in and out as Sara and Chris look on admiringly. I clench my stomach muscles to highlight my six back and growl at them, making them laugh.

But the moment doesn't last as Dave's face crumples in orgasm a second later, the big man looking surprisingly vulnerable as he jizzes in Amy's mouth. She swallows gleefully and carefully licks the top of his cock as he sits back, seemingly unsure if he's enjoying or uncomfortable with the moment.

Carefully, I pull out of Amy and I think I hear a little sigh escaping from her. Well, maybe I should investigate that later.

"Damn," Chris says. "Good game everyone. Sorry ladies, maybe we can make it up to youse later?"

Amy takes a chug of beer and sits down on the floor on the boat. "Ah you know I love how you guys taste ... but sure."

Dave gets up and heads to the little bathroom and by the time he's out, Chris has taken the wheel and is driving the boat back to shore. There's a part of my brain which is thinking that all ended too quickly.

The beach is just about in sight as Dave finishes his sixth beer and he's been drinking too quickly. I can feel a storm brewing, and lo and behold, just as we pull up to the harbour, he's fit to explode. I start carrying crates off onto the boardwalk, but Chris looks at me.

"Uh, best just leave those Mitt," he says. "Look, uh, hopefully you can find your friends ok?"

Shit. At least I'm three hundred dollars richer than I was.

And then the argument comes from the last place I'd expected.

"Ah fuck this," Amy says. "Look, just because we like to fuck and you like to win everything Dave doesn't mean you can, all the time. We had fun, ok? Can't you just let it rest?"

"Ames ..." Chris says patiently.

"No," she retorts. "No I will not just wait. We all agreed on this and we are all adults. I am so sick of Dave's hang-ups about not winning everything and sick of you being nice about it all the time. We're done, ok?"

And before anyone can say anything, she flounces off the boat, takes my hand and drags me down towards the beach as Dave starts shouting at her, at Sara, at Chris -- at the world, I think. Shit.

We round a corner and she sags back against the wall.

"Ah, are you ok?" I say, looking at her breathing hard, chest rising and falling quickly in a way that flashes my mind back to our brief sex on the boat.

"I ... I think I needed that," she says. "A clean break. Shit -- do you mind if we pop back to the AirBnB in La Jolla and then just drive for a bit?"

"No problem," I say. "La Yolla? Is that where we are?"

She grins. "Ah yeah, I forgot you forgot. San Diego. Come on."

The redhead flags down a cab on the front and we hop in as Amy gives the driver directions. Twenty minutes later, she's scooping jeans, knickers and the rest of her clothes into a bag as the cab and I wait anxiously outside. I don't really want the others to come back -- bad vibes.

Just as I'm thinking about heading into the building, she charges out, throwing blue jeans, a shirt and some shoes at me.

"Here," she says. "They belong to Chris but he's such a slob he won't notice. I figure he's probably the best fit out of both of them."

Gratefully, I pull the clothes on; the jeans are a good fit but the shirt is a little tight around the chest. Still, it's good to have more on than just trunks. In San Diego -- I remind myself where we are, and am amazed to find I know exactly where that is in the world -- you can probably get away with beach wear, but outside ... well, it might raise a few eyebrows.