Page 1 of Exrated
Hudson Matthews, the godfather of porn, has his face eyelevel with my cock—so close I can feel his warm breath blowing across the tip of my dick. My pulse is banging in my ears. I’m sweating bullets. Whatthe fuckam I doing here?
I wasn’t exactly searching the classifieds for a job in the adult entertainment industry. Shit just kind of happened. I work at Dancing Dicks, an all-male strip club. You meet a lot of women at a club like that—you can fuck a lot of women at a club like that, and I may have accidentally screwed one of the girls that work here. I had no idea she was a porn star—not that it would have mattered much, but she mentioned how much she made and dropped my name to Hudson, which is how I ended up on this…whatever this is—interview, cock inspection…
His gaze narrows as he nods his head. "Okay. Good size. Good girth. You got a good looking dick, man."
"Uh..."What the fuck do I say to that?"Thanks…"
"I think you'll do just fine in this industry."He walks back to his desk and sits down, the chair creaking under his weight.
"But...” I shake my head, “No guys. Ever. That's a deal, right?"
"Sure. No guys. I'll have Amanda type that up in your contractifwe sign you."
Istart to pull my jeans back up—
"One more thing," he says."Go ahead and beat one out, would you?Need to see if you're a dribbler or a shooter. That's gonna be one of two clincherson whether you get the job."
I stand,holding the waist of my jeansandstaring at him silently. "Like," I shrug, "right now? Just jerk off—right here—in your office?"
"Yeah."His face remains expressionless."You signed thewaiver. My dick's not out. Not like I'm gonna rub oneoff. It's just part of it, and if you can't handle busting a nut in my office, well, then howthehell are you gonna bust one in front of an entire crew?" He shuffles the papers on his desk. "I mean, you're a good looking guy." His eyes drag over my body, and it makes my dick lose a good inch, "And a good looking guy with a cock like that—" He points at my crotch. "Well, they're hard to come by. You could be the next big thing, so just get on with it."He pushes the piece of paper toward me, and I stare atthe figure he wrote down earlier. Shit, that's a lot of money to let someone tape you fucking other people.This is not amateur, middle of the road porn. This is the fucking holy grail of the porn world. This man is porn himself. Walking, loaded porn.
He grabs the remote from the desk and turns on the TV hung on the far wall. The sound of fake, breathy moans immediately fills the room and my attention swings to the screen. Two girlsaregoing at it. I swallow. Never would I have thought I would find myself in a man's office, beating one out to two chicks fucking each other on an 80-inch plasma screen. But for thekind of money written on that piece of paper, well, you do a lot of shit you never thought you would. I mean, being a porn star...how bad can it be? It's not like my family’s going to fess up if theystumble across one of my films.
Taking a shallow breath, I fist my cock, focusing on the TV and the amount of money on that piece of paper. "I mean..." I stop jerking myself but don't look over at him because that would just be too fucking weird. "Where do you want me to shoot my load?"
"I don't care just as long asit'snot on the chair, that shit stains."
There’s a first time for everything in life, but never did I imagine Hudson Matthews would one day ask me to beat off in his office and then pull out a measuring tape to see what kind of distance my ejaculation has.
David looks pissed, well, wait. Maybe that’s not pissed. I narrow my gaze on him as he taps over the keyboard. His brow is scrunched, his eyes focused—the right one twitching a little, but he keeps chewing on his bottom lip and wiping his hand over his face like he’s sweating. Shit, that’s not pissed that’s, that’s… not a good look.
“Jemma, damn.” Shaking his head, he drops his chin to his chest. “Damn.”
“What?”
“Three years of work down the fucking drain.”
“What!” My heart’s in my throat now because he’s dragging his hands down his face and David only does that when something really terrible has happened—when he’s just lost money. “What are you talking about?”
He shoves the keyboard away, leans back in his chair, and drags his hands down his face again.
“David, what the hell is going on?” I’m in a complete panic.
I hear a giggle over the computer speakers. Then a guy groans. “Yeah, suck it. Suck my cock.” And every last muscle tenses because I know that voice. It’s my ex. And I really hope this isn’t what I think it is.
David sits up, grabs the monitor, and spins it around. I gasp. My eyes go wide, and a little piece of me dies. I’m staring at the screen, and there, on the fucking internet is a video of me shoving Stone Steele’s dick down my throat.
“Oh, my fucking God!” I shoot out of the chair and grab the monitor with both hands, lowering my face down to it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
“Jemma, why?”
I’m so mortified right now; I can’t even answer him. I just stare at the computer, watching myself on screen as I look up at the camera and smile.
“Man, you’re fucking good at that,”Stone says. And I giggle—I. Giggle. Like a dirty, dirty little slut.
“Oh, Jesus.” The memory of that night is still salient in my mind, and that video is only going to get more vulgar because Stone’s a fucking rock star with a camera and I’m about to fuck him like a cheap, two-dollar hooker. “Turn it off.” I point at the screen, shaking my finger furiously. “Turn it off, David!”
David reaches for the mouse, spins the monitor back around, and the slurping and gagging sound of me choking on Stone’s dick silences.
