I remember my first date with Emma like it was yesterday, even if it was quite some time ago. It was late summer, still warm and bright outside long into the evening. We had a picnic by the lake, close to the campus were we both studied. She was a math major, incredible smart and quick witted. My dream was to save the climate, and I studied biology. We had met at a party a week earlier.
"Hey, I'm Paul." I offered her a beer while she waited for her friend in the bathroom.
"Emma. Thanks."
"Do you know the host?" The guy whose parents were out of town, completely uninformed about the party he was throwing in their huge house.
"I don't," she smiled. "In fact, I'm an undercover narc'."
"You're not a very good one, then," I laughed. "I don't do drugs."
"Well, maybe you're just not getting high on your own supply?" she tried.
"Maybe..."
We drank and looked each other over. I am a relatively small dude, only 5'8" (173 cm) and she was an couple of inches shorter than me. Her short, brown hair was sticking out in various angles, like she had taken a time machine back to the mid-nineties to get her hair done. She was cute, but not sensational. A rather good match for my own looks, I thought. Her earrings were too big for my liking, but maybe those were just for the party. Not too much makeup, and definitely not needing any more. Her big glasses, with black rims, made me think of a math nerd, and I was spot on. We had a nice conversation and she actually offered me her number without me asking for it. We texted for a few days and then decided to go on a proper date, which brings us back to the picnic by the lake.
There were a lot of people out and about that evening, but we managed to find a secluded spot between some trees and with a view of the lake. A very romantic place indeed. We had a large blanket, wine, cheese and some snacks. We got along great, shifting from topics of academia to upbringing and other interesting stuff. She told me about the part time job she had at the local dog rescue, and I started to get a bit sweaty. My part time job was maybe not as morally sound.
A year earlier, when I was planning to go to college, I was complaining to a couple of friends about the difficulty of getting a part time job that was flexible enough for my studies and still paid enough to be worth my time and effort. Derek, who had proudly stated many times that his main hobby was watching porn, and that he wanted to get into that business, flat out told me about this audition thing in the next town over, were my college was. He was going and he suggested that I tagged along. He needed someone to drive him anyway, since he had no car and no license.
To make a long story short, he wasn't offered a job, but I was. And I shot my first film the week after, making a lot more money than I could have hoped for. During the year I had been working extra in the adult film industry before I met Emma, I was beginning to make a name for myself. I didn't have any close family whose opinion I cared about and I figured the money was good enough to put my own reputation on the line. Emma was the first girl I went out with since I had started that career on the side.
"So, do you have a job as well or..?" Emma asked, once the topic of her extra work with dogs ran dry.
"Uhm..." I should be honest, I thought. "I do a bit of acting when my schedule allows it."
Emma gave me a long look and sipped from her wine glass.
"Isn't that more of a hobby than a job? I mean, you don't get paid for it, do you?"
"I do get paid, yeah," I nodded.
"Really? Are you in the movies or something? How much do you get paid to act?" She sounded very doubtful.
"I started at about $300 per scene about a year ago, but now I make over $1000 per scene."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She was flabbergasted.
"Listen," I said and motioned for her to calm down a bit. "I'm gonna be honest with you, but please don't tell anyone else, all right?"
She stared at me for a moment, put her glass down and thought about her reply for a moment.
"Go on. Tell me about this secret acting job that makes a shit load of money."
"I occasionally do some work in... the adult film industry," I tried.
"You mean... PORN?!?" she said loudly.
"Yeah," I nodded, defeated. "If you don't want anything to do with me now that you know, I'll understand."
"You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not," I said, trying to sound serious enough for her to believe me.
"But, I thought only big, buff guys with huge dicks did porn?" she said, more to herself than me.
"There's this new theme that's grown in popularity the last couple of years. I kind of fit the bill perfectly for that."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Do you really want me to get into the details?" I asked, hoping she didn't.
"Do I?!?" she laughed. "Heck yeah! This is the most interesting conversation I've had in my life." She grabbed her glass again and refilled it, before taking a big swig. "Tell me all about it."
"Listen," I said, trying again to deflect the topic. "This is our first date, and I want to be completely honest with you, because I really like you, but I'm not sure this is a good idea. I mean, are you sure you want to hear about this?"
She looked at me for a few seconds, squinting suspiciously.
"You're full of shit," she grinned. "You're just making this up for some weird fucking reason."
"All right," I sighed. "Want to hear the whole story?"
"Yes!"
It started with the audition that Derek brought me to. An half-empty office building that didn't have any signs or hints what kinds of businesses operated inside. A big bouncer showed us in and told us to wait our turn. There was a line of maybe twenty guys in a corridor outside a closed office. We waited for a few minutes and then the first guy in line was let inside. A few minutes later, he came out and the next guy in went inside. The process repeated, with each guy spending about two to ten minutes inside. In total, Derek and I waited for a couple of hours before it was Derek's turn to go inside.
I waited nervously for about five minutes until he came out, looking somewhat disappointed and telling me only that he'd wait by the car for me as he passed and left. I walked inside the office and closed the door behind me. A blonde woman in her fifties without any remarkable clothing or looks was leaning over a desk, wiping off some sorts of sex doll without arms, legs and head. There was a laptop on the desk too, a chair behind it and two guest chairs in front of it.
"Strip the top half and pull your pants and underwear down to your ankles," the woman said without even looking at me. "Get hard and put one of the condoms on." She pointed at a bowl half-full of condoms on the desk.
Right, I thought. For some reason, it came very naturally for me. I just did as I was told, stripped and jerked my dick a few times to get it hard and reached for a condom. The woman gave me a first look as she sat down behind the desk.
"Not too bad," she nodded. "Put the condom on and use some lube."
She pointed at the doll laying on the edge of the desk. She started a metronome on the desk, creating a tick tock rhythm of about a second between the ticks and tocks.
