Once again, Jordan stood in David's master bath, staring at herself in the floor-length mirror. Her skin was glistening with perspiration, her cheeks were flushed, and her nipples could have cut glass. She looked herself full in the eye, then let her gaze travel down her body to the bright pink mess below her waist. She shuddered and her pussy spasmed involuntarily.
She watched in the mirror as a thick globule of David's come escaped and swung pendulously between her legs. She shifted her weight and the glistening pearl stuck to her leg briefly before sliding down the inside of her thigh. She shook again as she watched in rapt attention, her shaking sending a cascade of come in pursuit down her leg.
Jordan's knees wobbled as she orgasmed on her feet. She leaned over and placed a hand against the wall to brace herself, letting the waves wash across her body.
"All good in there?" David called out timidly, still not sure whether Jordan was a mind-reader.
His voice wrenched her from her post-orgasmic state. Jordan straightened up, then reached for the wet wipes on the vanity to clean herself off. As the cool, soft cloth momentarily quenched the heat between her legs, 'second shoot' echoed in her head.
"I was serious earlier," she said, surprised at how controlled her voice sounded. "You said you would give me riders for each shoot that outlined what we were going to do and how much I was going to get paid. In advance. It makes me uncomfortable that you're already going back on your word."
"That's what these papers are," David responded, sounding annoyed but still uncharacteristically uncertain. She heard papers rustling in the next room for emphasis.
"You could have just said that earlier. But I'm serious when I say I want them up front."
"I was distracted thinking about the changes I needed to make to the cameras and lighting. By the way, are you sure you want to go by 'Nastia Nice?' There was already a pornstar named 'Nadia Nyce' not that long ago."
Jordan bit her lower lip and squinted into the mirror. Pornstar, she thought. That felt weird. "Yes," she called out without explanation.
Her pussy was still bright pink, but there was nothing she could do about that. She decided she would believe him--for now. Her opportunistic high school boyfriend had gone back on everything he'd told her, if he'd ever meant a word of it, but she would reserve judgement with David at least until he proved otherwise. She was no longer in high school, after all, and he seemed to be professional.
David poked his head in. "Can you touch up your makeup? A lot of it rubbed off on the...during the...a few minutes ago." He looked her up and down and his jaw went slack. She looked at him eyebrows raised, but he collected himself and disappeared before she could respond. Was he...rattled? Jordan wondered. It was unlike him to stumble on his words.
Jordan looked at her face in the mirror, sighed, and sat down at the vanity. She worked on redoing the eye makeup in a way that made her eyes seem larger than they were. She'd learned it from a YouTube tutorial. She'd experimented with it a few times before returning today, shooting some video in her quaint little Massachusetts cottage with her phone, and was pleased at how much it didn't look like her, especially with her hair flung about like she'd just been fucked seriously.
It took a lot of time and makeup but she figured she would either get used to it or eventually someone else would do it. Or maybe at some point she wouldn't need it. The thought sparked a familiar tingling between her legs, but she shook it off and concentrated on the task at hand.
She was nearly done when she realized she could faintly hear a conversation somewhere close enough to know what it was but far enough to be unintelligible.
'Second shoot in half an hour' is what David said, Jordan thought. She glanced at the small clock on the vanity. They hadn't yet discussed shooting with someone other than David. In his defense, she told herself, they hadn't discussed discussing that type of thing either. Was it wrong for her to make the assumption?
"Jordan! Er...Nastia!" David called from the bedroom. "How's the makeup going?" Then, "I have a surprise for you!" without waiting for her to respond.
Close enough, she thought, then rose to her feet. She wanted to think or feel something about what was about to happen, but her mind was blank and her heart betrayed nothing. I'm about to fuck a stranger and let him come inside me, she told herself, trying to provoke an emotional reaction.
Nothing--at least nothing emotional. She felt the familiar tingling between her legs instead. She stepped into the doorway and saw three men with David. She stared, speechless. Three new men stared her up and down.
"Holy shit," one of them finally managed to say, bringing quiet laughter and some light commentary.
After the chatter subsided, David turned to Jordan and asked with a devilish grin, "Ever heard the phrase 'airtight?'"
###
Jordan kept her head down at work for the next few weeks, still worried someone was going to recognize her now that several of her videos had gone live. It's true they were were on a subscription platform and there were only a few available since David planned to release a new one each Saturday for the next two months, but she knew the realities of the Internet.
It wouldn't take long for a subscriber to do a video capture and upload to one of the shady forums that preyed on poor, sexually-frustrated, lonely people who didn't realize or didn't care that their cookies were being analyzed in exchange for "free" access to stolen shared content. She estimated she had maybe three or four months before this "second job" was irretrievably all across the Internet.
Jordan let the thought slip from her mind. David had to travel, so she had the last two weeks "off" from shooting. She hated to admit it, but she needed it. She'd shot for hours every night after work and all day the Saturday before David left. Her mind needed a vacation even though her spent body was incredibly still screaming for more.
She had been given a creator account for the website and could check her royalties in real time, as well as how many views her scenes were getting and all manner of other metrics--where the views were coming from geographically, which portions were being skipped, which portions were being rewatched, and everything else under the sun. She didn't care about most of it, and had purposefully avoided royalties not wanting to be disappointed.
Mostly, Jordan watched all of her scenes multiple times and masturbated frequently, especially her "airtight" video. She'd never had three men come inside her at the same time and it had been sublime, even though only one of them had come in her pussy.
She shuddered thinking about it and wrapped her arms around her to feign frigid office temperatures in case anyone had been looking. She causally glanced over her shoulder to scan for observers, then shook her head. Were her thoughts on closed caption? Were her memories played on a monitor over her head? She chalked it up to having not mentally recovered from the marathon week of sex and new experiences.
Truth be told, even though her mind was weary, she was going through some level of withdrawal and she was on the verge of desperation to have a big, warm, hard cock inside her, pulsating as it spread its delicious warmth inside her pussy and...
"Oh! Excuse me!" Jordan ejaculated.
"My fault," the hunched over man mumbled. His eyes grew larger when he looked up to see who he'd bumped into.
Jordan's brow furrowed. What a strange reaction, she thought. "I was lost in...thinking about my project," Jordan offered. "I'm really sorry about that, er...I'm sorry," she stumbled, glancing at his ID badge, "...Mr. Gross...Mr. Grosschwanz?"
"Oh," the janitor said with a wicked gleam in his eye that unsettled Jordan, "just call me Sam, please."
