Coming to the Rescue

So here I sit, desperately trying to finish The Daily Tribune crossword, which is particularly difficult today, and her fake orgasms six foot from my head are really putting me off. Incredible really, that a nineteen-year-old already knows how to pull such a stunt, but she's a well seasoned pro at this now. I cast an eye from my paper to the action.

He's thrusting in and out of her from behind as she grabs the edge of the imitation school desk, her voluptuous tits pressed hard against the plastic surface. She’s wearing a badly fitting plaid skirt pushed up to and over her waist, her white stocking clad legs spread-eagled, so that the camera can get full access. She didn’t have a bra or panties but hey, who needs realism? The soundmen kneel with boom mikes, just out of shot yet still only inches from her mouth and cunt, recording various moans and slaps as they unfold. 11:45 on the set of 'Pussy Detention' and everyone looks thoroughly bored.

He withdraws from her and she spins round to kneel eagerly in front of him. Everybody moves in for the most important moment of the last thirty minutes and waits. And waits. And waits. The director ceases filming and shouts at Clint, the lead man. Now I like Clint, he's got a great body and a cock that looks as if it was bequeathed by a horse in the knowledge that its new owner would do it far greater justice, but he's got a real problem when the money shot is required. Time after time he freezes at the wrong moment and today looks like it was going to be another one of those. The director fires a volley of obscenities at him and receives one back.

Natasha, just stays on her knees, and shrugs her shoulders. As Clint storms off set the director calls me, as I expected, and I put down my paper and disrobe. I stand there waiting, cock in hand, constantly stroking it to keep it hard, whilst the make-up girl sees to Natasha. I'll be applying my own make-up to her face in a few minutes, I think, but with slightly less accuracy.

When ready, I move onto the set. I stare down at Natasha's open mouth, the tip of my cock just inches from her tongue. The set goes quiet and off we go, me rapidly jerking my skin back and forth. There can be no touching between us because then the obvious size difference between Clint and me would be far too apparent. I've got much bigger hands but I figure nobody's watching my fingernails. Quite often I'll think about my breakfast or something completely non-sexual, but on occasions like today, when a lot of film has been already wasted, I have to be quick. The woman who served me breakfast was all right though. Now, picture her in a short skirt with her tits hanging out and I'm there. The blight of my real sex life (I come too quickly and at a moment's notice, although very forcefully and with a lot of discharge), has me in great demand for these films and with a clever bit of camera work nobody notices the difference (or cares). I put my thumb up to indicate cameras should roll.

The first spurt hits her straight in the eye. Directors like that because it makes the model gasp in surprise, even though it is painful. True enough, the second goes straight into her mouth and down her throat and before she realizes it, another three good eruptions mean her hair will need a good wash later. Big globs of my cum drip off her face and onto her tits, which she then massages in on camera close up. I haven't made a sound. They'll edit in Clint gasping for breath, grunting and throwing his head back later once he's calmed down. The make-up girl throws me a towel and I clean myself up. The crew congratulate me, rather bizarrely I always think, as if masturbation is a new spectator sport. I turn away and acknowledge Natasha. She just grins, blows me a sticky kiss and goes off in search of a shower and her pay check. They don't care and neither do I. 10 minutes later and I'm $75 richer though my name won't appear on the end credits.

I get into my car when my cell phone rings. It's another director, who’s having trouble with Tim and Josh on the set of 'Raunchy Police Cadets', a gay flick. Great guys but lousy finishers. $200 he tells me if I can finish off a scene in a courtroom. No problem I reply. He then informs me it's a multiple. Hey, $200 and I'm there, pal. The actor with no name but the best-known cock in town.