Page 38 of Exrated
“Yeah,” I say with a slight smirk. “Heard that a time or two.”
She hops up from the end of the bed and grins. “I find assholes really attractive.”
“Great,” I mumble under my breath just as Hudson walks into the room.
Two hours later I’m naked. She’s naked. We’ve done six takes. I’m sweating, my thighs are burning like I’ve been doing power squats and I can’t fucking come. Surprisingly, when your attention’s somewhere other than the vagina you’re ramming your dick into, it’s hard to get off. She keeps staring up at me with this weird fucking look on her face. This girl is fucking weird as shit. I grab onto her waist and flip her over, face-down on the bed, push her shoulders down, forcing her to arch her back, and I close my eyes. And the sick part of this is, I can’t stop myself from pretending this is Jemma bent over like this because I know damn well if I do that, I’ll blow my load in five seconds flat.
And I do. As soon as the cameras shut off, I glance at Hud. “Is it good man?”
He skims through some of the footage and shakes his head. “Yeah, this looks good. You looked pissed. I like it.”
“Good, I’m gonna head out then if we’re done here.”
“Yeah, sure thing. Remember, you got that cock cast thing in the morning. I’m not gonna be around, but Jemma’s gonna be here to help out. I sent you the directions to their office.”
I pull in a breath as I open the door to the hall. “Wonderful.”
I never answered Tyler’s text. I probably should have, but once you pass that day mark, well, it’s just weird. Not that I would have known what to say to him.Hey, I totally get why you didn’t tell me you were a porn star, but I still hate you a little right now.Or maybe:Go fuck yourself.
What’s beyond amazing is that right now I am strutting up to a beautiful skyscraper in downtown LA and why? Oh, to go help my porn star, ex-boyfriend make a mold of his huge dick so thousands of women can shove a silicone replica of it up their vaginas.
I sling the door open, and the cool air from inside hits me in the face. My heels click on the marble floor as I make my way to the elevators. It took me an hour to pick out this outfit, and it’s just a pair of ripped jeans and a fitted designer t-shirt with strappy heels—heels because Tyler likes heels, and damn it, he is going to want to fuck me, and I’m not going to let him. I slam my fist over the buttons to the elevator and wait.
In a matter of minutes, I am going to walk into the office of Dick Doubles and have to stand there with Tyler as he fills out paperwork to have his penis cloned. Fuck my life.
As soon as I step off the elevator, I’m staring at a picture of a cartoon penis with a smiley face.Fantatsic.I pull open the door and walk inside to a smiling secretary who’s basically eye fucking Tyler.
He turns around and glances at me. “Hey,” he says, then faces back toward the counter.
“Hi.”
“Can I help you,” the secretary asks.
“Yeah, I’m here for…” I look at Tyler. “Whatever this is.”
“Ms. Morgan?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” She stands up and walks to a hallway. “You both can follow me.”
Tyler and I follow her down the hallway to the last door on the left. It opens to a room that resembles a doctor’s office. There is a sink and counter, a few chairs and an examination table. While she’s busy rummaging through cabinets, I look at Tyler. He shrugs, rubs his hand over the back of his neck, and then sits in one of the chairs
“Okay, so…” she says, placing items on the counter. “Basically, once he gets erect you’ll mix this up.” She tears open a bag and dumps the white powder into a stainless steel bowl.
“I’m sorry…” I say with a slight laugh. “Me?”
“Uh-huh.” Smiling, she pulls a spatula out of a pouch, places it on the counter next to the bowl, then fills a measuring cup with water from the sink. “Just mix this water in until it’s the consistency of pancake batter....”
“Wait, again—me?”
“Yes,” she says slowly while nodding her head.
“Why aren’t you doing it?”
“Men are easy, we generally don’t assist if they brought a helper along with them.” She winks before she holds up a long—really long—plastic tube. “Fill the tube to this mark right here,” her finger skims over a black line etched on the tube, “and just let it set for about five minutes or so.”
All I can do is laugh as I take the tube from her.
