My Life as a Video Pornographer

As I posed for the camera on all fours, my pussy wide open, my breasts hanging, sweat running down my skin and my anxiety increasing in anticipation of Tim's cock being shoved down my throat, I realized he had manipulated me into this position without saying a word.

I had just refused his suggestion that we do another take, and rather than whining or cajoling or even negotiating with me, he simply showed me the video he'd just taken. That and plying me with dope and alcohol, but none of that moved my body onto the bed. That was all me.

The thoughts of his cock sliding into my mouth, his hands holding my head still, my vagina open and wet all conspired, along with the impending body rush from the pot, to make me shiver. Hard.

"Hey! Julie! Are you cold?" He stopped whatever he'd been doing behind me and rested his hand on the small of my back. The warmth of his palm against my skin calmed me. He lightly rubbed down across my buns, the skin stretched and sensitive, his thumb reaching down to spread the liquid on my lips between my legs. "You okay?"

I nodded, swallowing and trying not to moan from his fingers.

"Your cunt is so gorgeous. It'll be the first thing the guys are going to focus on. Even as you're taking my cock down your throat they'll be staring at it."

I suppose he thought he was cheering me on, but I really hated the word. "Tim," I said softly. "One thing you gotta know. I really hate that word. I know I just said it, but every time I hear it from you, it's not a turn-on." That wasn't quite true. I was confused by the fact that I got a little jolt every time he called my pussy a cunt, but the word caught in my ears.

"What do you like to call it?" His fingers opened my lips letting cool air on my insides. The sweat from my crack rolled down to my lips.

"I dunno. Vagina. Vag. Pussy. Even Quim, sometimes. Just not...cunt."

"How about: fish taco, bearded clam, furburger, twat, slit, nether lips, love channel, camel toe, copher, cooter, beaver, fish lips, muff, snatch, fuck hole, penis glove, cock sock, cock pocket, pooter, poontang, poonanie, cooch, tunnel of love. Shall I go on?"

I had started laughing so hard I couldn't see straight. I'd never heard most of them.

Cock sock?

He was still going and I couldn't catch most of what he was saying.

"gash, catfish, vertical smile, sperm sucker, whisker biscuit..."

"Please! Stop!" I could barely get the words out between gasps for breath.

Whisker biscuit?

"Okay...I thought cunt was bad...but 'whisker biscuit?' Please don't ever call it that. Ever."

He had moved around to the side of the bed facing me, his cock still soft but longer than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Before I put this cock in your bone polisher...er, packin shack, I mean fuck donut, you're going to have to get it hard in your other canal. Now the boys really like seeing a chick licking a dick, especially just with her lips and tongue. Some other time we can discuss tying you up so you only have your mouth to work with, but for this flick, having you voluntarily using just your mouth to get me hard is a fucking arousing scene."

I hadn't been able to follow everything he said exactly, but I got the point, and I heard the threat of tying me up, not something I was going to let happen. Not. Going. To. Happen. Even as the image started something going in my head, I whispered a protest.

"Okay. Tape is rolling. Let's see what that tongue and mouth can do." He edged forward on his knees until his penis was dangling in front of me. To lick it from this position would mean I'd have to bend my elbows, and I realized that would put my ass higher into the air, spreading me open even more. I moaned, not only at the thought, but at the prospect of licking his cock preparing it to fuck my throat.

"We should really get a mic for you, yeah? Not now, but another time. I know the boys would want to hear what you are saying in your head, other than those faint moans. Maybe you could tell me what you're expecting, what you're doing?"

I nibbled at the base of his cock, where it joined his pubic bone, covered in hair. I wrapped my lips around the upper part of the shaft, working my way towards the head until I had it in my mouth. Trapped between my teeth, I gently licked it, working my tongue into his hole. His hands reached for my waist, rubbing my back and ribs, until his fingers were on my breasts. I moaned again at the idea of taking his erection into me. Bending my neck a little, I was able to reach under the shaft, nibbling my way back towards his balls. I could see them moving, dropping and pulling back as I approached his sac. Suddenly he pulled back.

"You've asked me a couple of times what boys like, right?" His fingers continued to play with my nipples, suddenly twisting them a little, forcing a startled gasp from me. "I mentioned some boys really like it when girls submit, when they pray to the cock god like you're doing. But even more like to hear the girl begging for it, asking to have the guy's cock in her mouth, or even just describing what she's going to do to the guy. Which way should we play this one?"

He had pulled my nipples down and I had to stop to catch my breath. "Please...please...hold on...stop...god...stop..." My nerves were on fire from all of the stimulation and the drugs and the images of boys listening to me beg to take Tim's cock into my mouth. "Oh god, yes, oh god..oooh, yes, okay, okay, stop. Please. I'll tell you. I'll tell you. I want your cock in my mouth so much. I want it to be as hard as steel. Let me make you hard with my lips and tongue and throat. Ohhh. Stop. God! What are you doing?!" Whatever he had done made me jerk my head up and I saw he was starting to stiffen. I reached my mouth over to kiss the swelling head. "please let me suck on your beautiful penis. Let me make you hard as wood so you can fuck me in my throat and cum on my face and tits. Please...please!"

When I listened and watched my performance later, I couldn't stop playing with myself. I was so debased and humiliated, had been turned into such a slutty little animal, it was as if it wasn't me. I remember losing it during those moments, somehow clicking into a performance for 'the boys' as I had begun to think of them. Whatever I was doing, it had the desired effect on Tim: his cock got stiffer until it stood out at about right angle to his thighs.

I moved forward, taking his head deeper into my mouth, urging him to penetrate me further. His hands left my breasts, forcing another moan from me, returning to my waist. Slowly, frustratingly slowly he began to move deeper into me, again reaching that point where I was forced to breathe through the gagging. His hands gripped my buns, pulling me tight against him until my nose was pressed into his crinkly hair. I opened my throat as best I could to accommodate him, breathing deep from my belly, my lips tight against the base of his shaft.

I could feel him getting harder, the soft flesh pressing against the top of my throat, forcing me to bend my neck down a little. He shifted over me, changing the angle of attack, straightening my throat again. He was talking to me, but I couldn't hear through the pounding of blood in my ears, the gagging and my need to focus on breathing.

Ever so slowly he began to pull out, the long shaft sliding across my lips, the head pulling out of my throat and into my mouth. I gulped in air, trying to relax the cramping in my stomach. And then he began again and I tried to moan in protest, his cock sealing my throat momentarily until I focused on breathing. His hands pressed into my ass cheeks, pulling them open for the camera, exposing not only my pussy but my wrinkled brown hole. I tried to squirm but was trapped; his hands holding me firmly on one end, his cock impaling me on the other. It pulsed, and I realized he might cum any time.

Slowly again he began to pull out, not letting me move, forcing me to be his fuck toy. I could feel how wet it was making me, to be forced to throat fuck him, on camera, a prelude to what I knew would be an equally intense session in my bone polisher. In spite of the insanity of my position, I smiled at where my brain had gone.

Bone polisher. Who comes up with this shit?

He pulled out completely, making a soft popping sound, his fingers keeping me open. "What do you say?"

I had no idea what I was supposed to say...and then I thought about 'the boys.' "Don't take that hot cock away from me, Tim. Let me suck you dry; push it deep into my throat. Fuck me deep and hard."

He didn't wait, pushing it back between my lips, across my tongue and back into my throat. He picked up the pace, moving it more smoothly in and out, deep and shallow, ignoring my grunts and gags, the drool dripping onto the sheets.

As this was only the third or fourth time I'd had any experience with a penis, I didn't realize he wouldn't cum as quickly as he had the first time. In and out he moved, his fingers continually teasing my clit and slit, pushing me onto his shaft and releasing me for a moment's breath. The pot made it seem like 15 minutes, but the video counter assured me later it had only been five. My throat and stomach were aching at the onslaught, but I couldn't stop: the idea he would shoot his cum deep into me, use me as his toy was a powerful aphrodisiac.

I could tell when he was close. His head had swollen and I could see his balls tight up inside his sac. I pushed my face into his abs, hopefully communicating I wanted him to blast into me. He pushed one final time and held me, the pulsing of his cock changing until I felt a muscular spasm travel up the shaft, against my lips and tongue and then the hot spurt of liquid deep into my throat. I could hear him groaning, his fingers pulling me wide open as his body stiffened.

His cock softened almost immediately, shrinking out of my throat into my mouth. I could taste the last drops of his semen, my tongue squishing the invader against the roof of my mouth. He jerked a little at the treatment; small payback for how he'd raped my throat and mouth.

My body was on fire: my throat was burning from the assault, my nipples ached from whatever he'd done to them, my stomach cramped and my...what did he call it? Honey tunnel!? Was spasming, pulsing little jolts of electricity up my spine and little drops of liquid onto his fingers.

He pulled out and lifted my head, his face smiling in appreciation. In spite of my submission, I felt a slow burn beginning to surface, threatening to burst out. He could see the struggle I was having and bent down to kiss me, soft, gentle, on my lips, my face, my lips, my forehead and eyes, my lips until I opened my mouth to take his tongue. His caresses inflamed my arousal and dampened my anger. I was still on my hands and knees, still exposed to the camera, still his plaything and it felt wonderful.

"Should we look at the two takes before we continue?" He pulled me up by my ribs, the relief of taking the weight of my wrists flooding through me.

I couldn't understand how he could just turn it on and off like a light switch. If I hadn't felt his passion, in his cock, in his lips, in his fingers, I would have thought he was just making a movie, but there was no way the feeling I was getting from him was fake. The pot swirled my thoughts and I just nodded.

He popped the camera off the tripod and suggested we look at it on the big monitor in the living room. I stumbled, as much from my legs cramping as the alcohol numbing my brain. I could feel my juices sliding down my lips and onto the top of my thighs. I was a mess, my nipples and pussy on fire, my mouth and throat bruised, sweat coating my entire body.

"...depends on which site you want to upload to. Amateur Teens, and the whole swarm of sites by the same producers, only take 2 minute teasers for longer videos, but Hot Cunt would take the whole thing with some thumbnails." He fucked around with the camera, cables and the TV as I tried to get comfortable on the couch. I looked around for something to put on. I wasn't cold, but for some reason, I didn't want to be exposed. I had felt violated all of a sudden...maybe the quick change he'd just gone through -- it made me feel like the whore I knew I was becoming, and I didn't want to be a whore right then. I realized I had started to fall for him. He didn't seem to mind parading around with his cock flopping. I noticed his sac was wrinkled, the seam running up and back to his ass. My head was fucked up.

I looked up at the sound of me shouting to fuck me, my legs spread open, my body making a table top, my breasts hanging down. Tim came into the scene from the right, his cock erect.

"We can edit all of that out -- some sites like the margins, but others do better with clean intros and outros. Just look at you. Fuck!"

I was looking at me, coaxing his cock into my mouth, watching as he started the penetration. I could feel my juices starting to flow and I began to forget about finding something to cover myself.

I sat, slack jawed as his cock pulled out and sprayed his cum on my face. I reached up to feel the dried spunk. Running my fingers over the rough surface on my cheeks where I expected to feel the usual smooth skin was like my thoughts running over the notion of my falling in love with him, when what I had wanted most of all was to use him. I stared at the couple on the screen, my hands dropping to between my legs. I sighed, realizing I was in for it.

"The point is," he was talking and I didn't know if he was just starting a conversation in the middle, or if we'd been in a conversation and I'd lost track. I tried to focus. "there are at least six different properties here with a little editing, and with a little more effort, probably 10. That's just what we've shot so far. Snatching your cherry-popping will...fuck...it'll be, fucking unbelievable."

Sometimes I couldn't believe he actually said the things he did. I was so fucked up I couldn't respond -- either to the outrageous imagery or his off-hand consideration of the thing. On the one hand I really didn't give two shits about it. I'd already dismissed it as a piece of skin. On the other, though, it obviously was going to be worth a lot

to him

, and that made it worth a lot to me. Even more worth it than the money he was babbling on about.

"First Timers. I haven't even looked at them in a year. We have to do some research before we do this thing. You getting hungry yet?"

I was having trouble keeping up with his shifts in conversation. I

was

hungry -- the pot had settled into my stomach and it was getting close to dinner time. I looked over to answer him, but he was head down on his laptop, images of skin flying across the screen. I was hungry and I was turned on and I was getting a little frustrated. He'd cum twice in the last half hour, and I'd been left hanging both times. Not to mention the entire day working myself up to this moment.

"Hey." I put my hand on the laptop lid and threatened to shut it.

He looked up, eyebrows raised.

"I'm sitting here, gooey, hot and bothered. I'm the reason you're going to be rich, yeah? You asked me if I was hungry. I'm starving, but I think I need something else before I can eat."

His eyes crinkled, looking down at my wide open beaver. He clucked his tongue and grabbed the video camera, turning it to point at my open legs. "Your turn. POV shot of some serious poundcake eating. Just don't close your legs -- the shot works better if you can see my tongue going in and out of your snatch."

I had the camera in my hands before I could react, clicked the record button and pointed it down. He was already diving between my thighs, his hands holding me open, his mouth heading to my lips. The shock of his tongue rubbing against my clit almost made me drop the thing -- it caught my grunt of surprise on the recording, the realization I had just recorded myself grunting making me moan even louder.

The reverberations of his tongue and my exposure, of my catching my own sexual act, of my willingness to put myself on tape snaked up my spine. Looking back on that recording later I was surprised at how awful it was -- all shaky and out of focus. Later I would learn how to control myself, but Tim's attack on my

honey pot

(!) was so intense I'm not sure even now I would have been able to hold a camera steady.

The noises he made slurping at my open slit made me blush, even as his tongue was pushing me over the edge. I wasn't aware I was moaning and urging him on, but listening to the thing even years later I blushed at the urgency of my voice. It didn't take long -- the whole day's pent up anxiety and playing with myself, the prior half-hour's fuck-toy movie-making and the thought he would be taking me in just a little while all came together, or made me cum together, or something. I panted and moaned and then

whoosh!

, I shot juice out onto his tongue and face, an orgasm exploded out of me like I'd never experienced before.

It felt like I had peed on him, and I immediately apologized, embarrassed. He didn't look up, lapping the juices off of me, moving my lips around with his tongue, sucking on my tunnel. I had to put the camera down and hold his head still, the intensity of the feelings was painful.

"Stop...stop. Please, stop. Ow! You have to stop!" I held his head against my open slit, holding him still, pushing his face into me. I could feel the liquid dripping into my ass-crack and I wondered what it was doing to his couch. I couldn't think about it long before another wave of pain/pleasure swooped up through me. He had found my clit and was gently massaging it between his teeth. "No! Stop! It hurts!" I pulled on the hairs on the back of his neck and he finally got it, resting his lips gently against mine.

I breathed through the orgasm, letting its waves lap up and down my spine, the blood rushing into my head slowly subsiding. Looking up at the TV I saw his face looking up at me and I realized the camera had been streaming to the monitor the whole time. I pulled it up and away, pointing it back at myself at arms' length to capture the scene: a naked teenager, flushed from a recent orgasm, her lover's head buried between her legs. At least, that's what I had hoped to capture. I was so gone and I was so inexperienced, in all of it, I had no idea what would come out.

"Nice," he said, backing out a little.

I looked down to see his mouth and nose soaked from my juices.

"I had no idea you were a squirter. That's good to know."

I wrinkled my nose at his crudeness. If I was going to hang with this guy, he'd have to stop talking so stupid. But to his point,

I

had no idea my body could do that. I wasn't even sure it wasn't pee. "I'm...are...did I...was that...cum?"

He looked up and smiled, nodding. "Hell yes. Girls can do that." He could see I was confused. "What? You didn't know?" He waited. "What did you think it was? Pee?" He laughed gently, running his hands up my thighs sending shivers up my spine. I opened my legs a little to stop the tickling. "That," he paused emphasizing his point by lightly rubbing his finger on my open slit, "is a money maker."

I wasn't sure what he was referring to specifically -- whether my vagina itself or my apparent ability to ejaculate. "I've...never done that before...I'm not sure I could do it again."

"Plenty of time to find out." He sat back on the floor, his cock hanging out neither stiff nor flaccid.

Flaccid

, I liked the word even though I preferred his cock stiff. I smiled again at how random my thoughts had become. "You're hungry," he interrupted my daydreaming. "Let's order in. Tom Tom's okay?"

It was a local chain -- some kind of Chinese; my folks ordered it. I nodded, lifting my leg over his head and setting down the camera. I clicked the record button off and stared out the sliding glass doors to the backyard, thinking about what was coming, or cumming next.