Page 23 of Exrated
Titch,
I do miss you.
Tyler
Just a few words, but I know her, and that’s enough. I press send and lean back in the chair. A few seconds later my messenger dings, but it’s not Jemma. Nope, there in my inbox from Billy Jones, is the fourth dick pic for the evening. In the message, it reads:If you ever want to be deep, down inside a real man.
I delete the message and block Billy Jones then stare at the unseen message to Jemma, wondering how in the fucking hell I am ever going to tell her what I do for a living.
Everyone has sex—except for monks and nuns.
Hell, most people watch porn from time to time, so you’d think it would be no big deal to watch some people screw in front of you. I mean, everyone has that slutty friend in college that ends up having sex with some random guy in the dorm room while you’re trying to sleep. But for some reason, I’m making this out to be a big deal. I think it’s because all I’ve been focused on is having to watch someone take it up the butt, and the thought of that just makes me cringe.It’s just two consensual adults having sex. Doing a job. Naked. In front of a camera. No big deal, Jemma.I say as I’m escorted through a marble foyer. The guy who answered the door looks like an old perv. His greasy, dandruff-flaked grey hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He’s hunched over and is wearing a tie-died t shirt and Birkenstockswithsocks. He looks like he was probably a roadie with The Grateful Dead.
“First day, huh?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Fluffer?”
“What? No, I’m the assistant.”
He laughs as his gaze cuts over at me. “Yeah, okay. That’s what Hud’s calling it these days—assistant?”
“I…”
“Don’t worry. Everyone here is nice. We’re like a big family or some shit.”
I follow him into a large living room. There are lights and cameras and people in every corner of the room.
“Hey, Hud. Theassistant’shere.” The man pats me on the back and walks out.
Hudson turns around and immediately comes over, smiling. “Welcome,” he says, stretching his arms out, “to the world of porn.”
I swallow.
“Okay, so basically, like I told you before, you kinda just hang out and do whatever we need—no intercourse…” He laughs, but I don’t. “You’ll bring waters, towels, hold the reflectors, hand them the props.” He stops in front of the kitchen counter and grabs a purple—fuck my life—dildo and holds it out to me. I watch the silicone penis wobble a few seconds before stilling. “Take Tonto,” he says.
“Tonto?”
“Yep. I like to name them.”
He’s still holdingTontoout, shaking it in front of my face. Jesus. I grab it, refusing to look at it. I don’t want to think about where it’s been, and I am starting to wonder if maybe I was a little too ambitious by taking this job. I mean, it’s just sex, but damn, this is a lot more humiliating than I thought it would be. A naked woman with red ringlets cascading down her back saunters past me. My eyes go to her ass. I can’t help it. Now I feel like a pervert, and my cheeks are heating.
“Vee,” Hudson calls out and the redhead stops to look at him. “You got Johnny ready?”
“Yeah, I gave him a shot of tequila, a little bit of encouragement head.”
“You didn’t get him off did you?”
“No, Hud. I’m a professional. Just a few bobs of the head and some Viagra. I think that last shot nearly did him in.”
This cannot be real life right now.
Turning back around, Hud hands me a wad of cash. “Would you go get some coffee? It’s early, and I’m not awake enough for this shit. There’s a Starbucks three blocks over, Caramel Macchiato and Vanilla Latte and whatever you want.”
“Sure.” I spin around, lay the dildo on the counter, and head out of the front door relieved that my first job is coffee and not lubing up Tonto. Surely I will get used to this, right?
Jerry Garcia’s roadie is standing at the door waiting for me when I come back. He holds his finger to his lips telling me to keep quiet as he slowly closes the door behind me. I follow him into the living room and set the coffees on the counter and then—I hear it. The sound of sex: skin slapping against skin, breathy moans, grunts. Oh. My. Fucking. God.
