Pippa Ch 09

"It's Pippa isn't it?" I asked the young girl sitting at the other side of my desk.

"That's right. Miss?"

"You can call me, Diane." I said curtly.

"I'd prefer going by Nikki though." She said somewhat confidently.

"That's fine." I said.

Most of the girls I worked with used aliases. I had expected Pippa to already have one. She was a hooker, and most of them didn't use their real name.

"Have you done any porn before?" I asked.

"Not really." She said. "I let an ex film me a few times."

"It's kinda like that then." I said. I certainly didn't think she was by any means a prude or hadn't had experience. But filming the sort of stuff I did was a lot different than letting a guy film their girlfriend blowing them.

There was something very sweet about her. I could tell she was a decent person. I dealt with a lot of scumbags in my line of work and knew the type.

She was very friendly and outgoing with me. At first I had sensed a little hesitation. I think maybe the fact that I was a woman made a big difference.

A lot of the girls got the idea that a porn producer was going to be a middle aged, fat balding man, with a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

I certainly wasn't that. Except the middle aged part. I was forty four.

Lots of the performers joked that I could easily act in my own film. They were just being sweet. Then again there was a category for everybody these days.

I had kept myself in good shape. It was my face that spoke to my age. A mixture of crows feet and laughter lines. Some people said I had a distinguished face, while other said I had a sever look. It was hard to find the truth about oneself so easily, I thought. The temptation was always to side with the compliments.

My hair was short, shorter than Pippa's. It was grey and cropped very close to my skull.

Performing on film was something I had never done. I was strictly behind the scenes, and intended it to stay that way.

I asked her how long she had been hooking. She told my it wasn't that long. Maybe, nine months.

I knew full well she had a pimp. He was the one that called me. He definitely wasn't her boyfriend, even though he claimed to be. Perhaps they had started out that way. At least he didn't insult me by claiming he was her manager.

I wasn't going to take the appointment, the way he talked gave me a bad feeling. I hadn't much else on today though, so took a chance.

There were no prospects for Pippa to make this into a career. She was doing it to enhance her client base. A lot of guys these days liked the whole porn star experience, and what better way for a prostitute to claim she was a porn model than to film a few scenes.

It was a simple trick. Do a few movies, link them to their profile and reap the rewards. The punters get to sleep with a porn star for half the price of the real deal.

Besides, she could make far more money visiting private clients than she could ever do in the porn industry. Especially in this country.

It was only the established girls that made the real money. With a pimp in tow she was never going to get that far.

"What sorts of scenes are you comfortable with?" I asked. I wouldn't have started her out with anything too extreme, but it was best to know beforehand. Although most girl's limits started to change after a while.

"Anything really." She said.

"Girl on girl okay with you?"

"Yeah, I'm not a lesbian, but it's cool." She said.

That was a shame I thought. If I had seen her on the street I would have assumed that she was a dyke. Her hair was cut short, but I guess maybe it was a style these days.

"You're bisexual?" I asked

She shook her head. That was a surprise too. Most girls who came though here claimed that.

I didn't go further into the types of film we made here. The posters on the walls of my office were testament to what we did.

"Can I ask. What got you into being an escort?" My interest in Pippa was beginning to be piqued.

"Erm, well I just sort of fell into it."

Hmm, I thought. No one just falls into that type or work. I had to assume it was her so called boyfriend that talked her into it. It was either paying for his habit or hers.

I had a feeling she was on something. Coke or weed.

She was happy enough, and was comfortable in my office. If there was any coercion for her to come here I didn't pick up on it.

"Do you mind stripping off, Pippa. I just need to make sure you're not hiding any surprises." I tried to make it sound as pleasant as I could.

She didn't hesitate at all.

I got up and walked around to the other side of the desk for a better look. I had never turned anyone away due to their body. Tattoos and scars were acceptable these days, but I had to be sure there was nothing too extreme.

A tribal tattoo was one thing, but track marks were another.

She was wearing faded denim jeans, and a black sweater. If the tomboy look was her goal, she had achieved it. It didn't take her long to remove them. Her underwear was next.

Her body was really pretty. Quite petite, and curvy in the right places.

"You've got really nice tits." I said.

"Thank you." She said sheepishly.

I think she was used to men commenting on her body.

It wasn't unusual for me to touch the girls in this sort of situation. It was part of the process.

At first she tensed up as I put my hands on her breasts. Once she knew I was being strictly professional she relaxed somewhat. I gave them a good fondle as I watched her reaction.

It was my job to judge the talent. Even the men.

I could always tell when a man would do well. If he went red and got all nervous when I grabbed his dick, I knew it wasn't the right job for him. If he got hard, I'd offer him work.

Pippa wasn't shy at all. I wouldn't have expected her to be.

My hands moved her plump breasts around. Squeezing and feeling their weight.

While she showed no reaction to my examination. I felt my heart beating a little faster.

She was very cute. In other circumstances I would want to hit on her.

My policy was to never date the talent. It wasn't something I was going to break because of her. There was also the fact that she bluntly told me she wasn't a lesbian.

She might have been a hooker but she was sexual unavailable to me. It was a turn on in many ways.

"Maybe a boob job one day." I said casually.

"Do you really think so?"

I nodded. "Not so much for the size, but for the shape of them, you will thank me in a few years." I said smiling.

"Turn around." I said with a friendly smile on my face.

My office had been witness to this exact scenario hundreds of times. There were only a handful of memorable ones. As I felt my heart beating quickly in my chest, I knew this was going to be one of them.

It was stupid, I knew that, but at my age I was allowed to dream.

Pippa had an amazing little bum. It was hard and high. I would have loved to give it a firm slap.

I distracted myself by mussing her hair with my fingers.

"You'd get a lot more business with longer hair, and blonde too."

"Yeah, I used to have it longer, and you're probably right." She said.

I was right, but I preferred her like this. I'd always loved girls with short hair.

Her body was spotless, no scars or tattoos. It was refreshing to see. No needle marks too which was a relief.

"Bend over for me, Pippa." I said. This was something I had never done before. Half of me expected her to refuse. She didn't.

As she bent over, she must have known what I wanted to see.

Her pussy was shaved and looked lovely. It had nice puffy lips.

What I would give to drag my nail down the middle just to see her reaction. Who was I kidding, I wanted to kiss and suck on it.

I had gone too far, I knew it. I had to stay professional.

"You can get dressed now." I said, feeling very flustered inside.

I returned to my seat as she dressed. I kept my eyes respectfully averted.

There was a moral line I didn't want to cross. It could also be bad for business. Once gossip got out it was hard to stop. I didn't want to be known as someone who expected favours.

Pippa probably associated with other girls of her type, and those could potentially be new talent for me.

"Do I need to do a screen test?" She asked as she sat back down.

"Not today." I said.

I went on to tell her It wasn't something that I usually did. Just filming something with her to sit unused on my computer wasn't financially smart.

What I would do was set up a scene with a few other performers and bring the new girl to observe and then afterwards include her with some of the people there.

She nodded and smiled.

It had been tempting to lie. Tell her that I needed to film her masturbating or something.

"I'll take a few head shots, though." I said.

I got my phone out and asked her to stand.

There were just basic pictures of her face.

She asked me if she should strip, and while it was again very tempting, I told her that we'd take the promo shots on the day.

With that done, I gave her some forms to fill out and sign. We talked about the test for any diseases and once that was out of the way. I told her that I had an upcoming job for her at the end of the week. It fit into her calendar nicely and we said our goodbyes.

*********

For the rest of the day I didn't think much about Pippa. I had lots of work to catch up on. The porn industry ran on chaos, and I needed to tame it.

It was only when I was at home and in bed, and thinking about my day that she popped into my head. She had been cute and very sweet. Just my type.

Except she wasn't. She was straight, and she was a hooker. The two things that really put the downer on any thoughts of pursuing a relationship. Added to that, she was going to be a performer, and I didn't date performers.

It was a shame. I lived alone. My partner had moved out six months ago, and left a large gap in my life. Something that I hadn't been able to fill.

There was a gay friendly bar in town that I sometimes frequented. It wasn't my looks that put most women off. It was my job. There were too many gay women who put their sexuality hand in hand with their feminism. A feminism that was at a odds with someone who made pron for a living.

It was too hard to lie, the lesbian community was small and incestuous. I always found girls that had dated an ex. Gossip spread quickly.

My ex had been accepting, but she had been accepting of a lot of other things too. My money being one of them. That little problem led to arguments. The last one being so big that we hadn't spoken since.

It wasn't that dating performers was strictly a moral choice. Its I just could never be sure that they weren't sleeping with me to advance their careers. I'm sure if I asked, a lot of them would gladly share my bed.

I grabbed my phone from the night sand and opened the pictures of Pippa. What a sweet girl, I said to myself.

I got online and tracked down her escort profile. It only took me a few minutes.

There were a few more pictures of her. Sadly her face was partially blurred in them, but her body was on show.

As I looked the thoughts of touching her breasts filled my head. They had been young and firm.

Was it the fact that a girl who was so available for so many was just out of my reach turning me on so much. I was never one for pining over girls, but Pippa had been alluring in all the right ways.

My masturbation was inevitable. My hand was already stroking my pussy.

There wasn't many pictures, so my imagination took over.

It was silly, I was an adult. It had been a long time since I had secretly masturbated over pictures of a girl I knew.

While my thumb slowly manipulated my clit, my other thumb opened my contacts on my phone.

Now this was a really dumb idea.

"Hello, Pippa. This is Diane." I said when she answered.

"Oh, hiya, what's up?" She sounded awake and alert.

"I haven't disturbed you, have I?" I asked.

"Not at all."

It was nice to hear her voice. My head with lots of wicked things I would like to say to her.

"You had a busy night?" Is all I managed.

It wasn't like she was suddenly going to start having phone sex. That didn't stop me slowly massaging my clit as I listened to her voice.

"It's been fairly quiet." She said. "I had my last appointment a few hours ago."

"How did it go?" I asked.

"Erm, well yeah, it was cool." She said a bit cagily.

I wasn't really getting anywhere. She seemed distracted like there was someone else in the room.

"So I was thinking that I really need to get the promo shots out of the way."

"I'm free tomorrow, if you want." She said.

I told her to make it the evening as I was snowed under. She replied saying it would have to be late as she had a few bookings.

The conversation wasn't at all titillating, but hearing her voice was good enough.

As we decided on the time, I heard the muffled sounds of a man in the background. I wished her goodnight and hung up.

I closed my eyes. My thumb still working my clit.

I imagined Pippa's head between my legs. My vibrator was in arms reach, but I decided I didn't want to interrupt my pleasure.

It was more of a daydream than a full on fantasy. I didn't have the energy to make myself cum, besides I wanted to prolong the feeling.

My instincts told me Pippa had never played around with other girls. The thoughts of deflowering her were strong and tempting.

Straight girls were hot. Even the straight whores.

As warm feelings spread though my body I remembered back to the time I lost my virginity.

The second time at least. The first had been with a guy. A rather shy bookworm type who had gotten drunk with me and who ended up fumbling all over me.

My real virginity was taken by a married professor at university. She taught art history and had seen something in me that she liked. I was invited for an informal get together at her house with some of the other girls. No one really knew she was a lesbian, although these days it would be painfully obvious.

She complimented and cooed us all night. We felt special and very much the adults we wished we were. There was wine and pot, music and cheese. It was more than a sexual awakening for me.

Afterwards, she asked me to stay back while the other girls left. I remember being overjoyed at the attention she singled me out for.

We shared a spliff together and as we relaxed listening to music, she told me tales of her extensive travels around the world. She was so admirable, and seemed like the coolest person I had ever met. When she kissed me it felt like the most natural thing ever.

Our lovemaking wasn't all fumbles and excuses. She took her time with me. Exploring my body with her fingers and her mouth. She was the first person to make me cum.

With patience and clear instructions she showed me how to reciprocate. I felt very powerful when I gave her an orgasm. This mature woman who had lived and explored so much that the world had to offer was in that moment bonded to me emotionally and physically.

I would never forget that.

Our relationship didn't last. She moved onto the next new girl. I didn't hate her for the abandonment. I was grateful for the experience. Besides, I was young I wanted to feel the same emotions with others.

I wondered how Pippa would have reacted in that situation. If she had let the more mature woman take charge.

My breathing quickened.

Would she let me in. Would she give her body to mine with no expectations, only the promise of joy.

The orgasm that I didn't want, crept slowly into my stomach then burst through my body.

My moans echoed through the empty rooms of my house as I came.

**********

The next day at work I considered whether to cancel the appointment with Pippa. I had asked her in the heat of the moment. It was silly to think that anything would come from it. The longer the day went on the longer I waited to call her.

As the working day finished I decided that it was too short notice to cancel. It was a good excuse that my subconscious had created.

There was a high end stills camera that I kept in the office which I took home.

As I got ready I felt the all to familiar feeling of butterflies. Something that I hadn't felt with her in the office. I thought that maybe I was building it up too much in my head.

I tried not to dwell on it or get my hopes up too much.

It was late when she rang my doorbell.

"Hiya, Pippa." I said answering the door.

She smiled. "Hiya." She looked to be in a good mood.

"Did you find the place okay?"

"Yeah, my boyfriend dropped me off."

That was a shame I thought, I didn't like him knowing where I lived.

This was exactly the reason that I kept my private life and work separate.

"Well, come in then." I said trying to stay positive.

I showed her into the living room.

My house was something I was very proud off. It was spacious and tastefully decorated. I liked to keep it looking modern and minimalistic. There were personal touches her and there though. Just to keep it looking lived in.

"I wasn't sure what to wear." She said as she took a seat on the couch.

"You look great." I said.

She did to. She had a pair of dark jeans with the tears in the knees. They looked very fashionable. She had a little white top on. It showed off her cleavage and just a flash of her stomach.

"Do you want some wine?" I offered.

She nodded, and I poured her a glass.

"It's a really lovely house, Diane." She said. "I never realised there was so much money in porn."

"It's been a long career, Pippa."

"I'd love to have a place like this one day." She said.

I sat next to her, but not too close.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, where do you see yourself in ten years?" I asked. It sounded like I was interviewing her, but it was a good way to judge her character.

She pondered the question for a few moments before saying. "I don't really know."

I nodded.

"You're a very attractive young lady, Pippa. The world could be your oyster."

This made her uncomfortable. I didn't think it was my compliment, but for some reason it had hit a nerve.

"Can I ask you a question?" I continued. "What got you into escorting in the first place?" I thought that she might want to open up more in a relaxed environment.

She shook her head, and told me it was complicated. I had the feeling it was drugs. Even though she looked great I had the feeling she was on something again. It was a familiar story.

"I shouldn't be nosy." I said and gave her a smile.

"It's okay." She said.

I didn't press her further. It was probably the worst thing I could have started the conversation with. I wanted to know the real girl behind the facade.

"Do you shoot porn here?" She asked, changing the subject.

I told her the truth that I didn't and then lied to her telling her that I used the place to take promotional photos.

We talked for a bit about the types of films that I had made in the past and the general state of the industry. She seemed happy to talk about what she thought the problems was with porn these days. Pippa was very bright, smarter than I gave her credit for.

I skirted the issue of the prostitution, but I asked her about her previous employment. I was surprised to find that she had worked in offices and even a bank for a brief time. In another world I might have been interviewing her for a job as my secretary.

"What got you started in porn?" She asked.

I told her the truth. How it had all started when I worked in Amsterdam. My failed art career had led me there. Most people presumed I was a washed up porn star. That was far from the truth. I had always been behind the camera. Filming girls started as a passion and became a job.

"I'd love to make more arty stuff, more avant-garde." I told her.