"Hi, my name is Carie and I'm not selling anything. Can you please take a minute to answer a few questions about the upcoming election? No? No? No?"
If you can't handle rejection, don't get into anything that involves door-to-door cold calling. I really wasn't selling, just doing political surveys, but from some people's reactions you'd think I was there to barbecue their kittens. After a while I started to consider that. Some people are assholes.
But you develop a thick skin, move on, and find fun where you can. When your expectations are really low, almost any surprise is a good one. You never know what's behind the next door. That's what this story is about.
I had a real job as a waitress at a fairly nice cafe whose half-day hours left me time for this side job in polling. And for all my bitching I was good at it. Being a little hottie helps (hey, no brag if it's true, right?). Women see 'just a girl' while the men, well, they see tits. (You guys, side note: we know.)
Let's get me out of the way: Carolyn Wells, then 20 years old, a slim 5'3" with close-cropped red hair and a pixie face. When I say slim I mean like 90 pounds. Not much in the hips and butt, but ... I'll bet 10 of those 90 are up front and proud. Well OK, five. But still, 32C is eyecatching.
I'm no freak, just a slender and sexy shorty. I discovered early what that does to guys of all ages. These C-cups have been opening doors ever since they sprouted. They're not my only asset, but they give me a chance to wow them with my brains too. Wits and tits: a winning combo.
I guess I'm pretty normal sexually. I like to say I'm not bi but I'm not shy. No steady man, but a few regulars and of course fill-ins when needed. At this point in my life I'd done a lot of what two can do, and once, something that took three. And I was sure I'd do it all again, because it felt really good.
We were canvassing in a good neighborhood with large lots, some pools, nice groomed hedges. I was dressed for the hot weather. Our dress code is conservative, but a sleeveless top over slacks is fine, and nobody does a bra check (I mean, sure my manager checks me out but he never says boo).
This was my fifth stop, maybe 4:30 in the afternoon. We work in teams of two for safety, on opposite sides of a street, but you can't always stay in sync and my partner of the day was several houses ahead on this curving lane. I suppose he got his door slams faster than I did. No tits on him.
There were more cars and vans than you'd expect in the drive and at the curb. The door was opened by a plain, harried-looking girl about my age who didn't let me speak before grabbing my arm and snapping, "You're late, get in here now, we're going in a few minutes. Wait here a sec." She left me standing in the foyer as she scurried off into the house.
I'm not naive. The sprawl of cables and road cases quickly clued me there was a movie being shot in the back. Good chance it wasn't an episode of Law & Order I'd stumbled into.
I'm as curious as anyone, more than most I guess, and no kind of prude. I'd giggled over pornos with my friends, as we rated the dicks and critiqued the 'plots'. So a chance to see one in the flesh, so to speak, intrigued me. I started off toward where my greeter had gone.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I whipped around to see a distracted man in his 40s eyeing me with a bit of interest and some concern. I started my pitch: Hi, I'm Carie and I'm not selling anything...
"How the fuck did you get in here? This is a closed set."
The girl was back. "That was me Alvie, sorry I thought she was that Brandy you were waiting for. She rang the bell, I don't know..."
"Well, it isn't Brandy, is it? Get her the fuck out of here. And find me Brandy. That twat is costing me time. Money. Shit. Fucking actors."
I gathered this was the director, apparently named Alvie, and he probably wasn't ready to share his views on the upcoming elections. So the prudent thing was oops and split. Ah, prudence. Never met the girl.
"Um, Mr ... Alvie?" I spoke up with some hesitation. "I know I don't belong here, but now that I am, could I look around if I stay out of the way? I won't be any trouble and I'm really curious about all this."
He focused on me for the first time. "Why? Who do you work for? Who sent you to check up on me? Are you from Marty? Jesus fuck that guy is a douche. Tell him I'm not giving up any points in this one, I already made that clear."
So he was the producer too. Low budget for sure. Maybe even the camera operator and dolly grip. If you know what I mean. Nah, too inside baseball.
"No, no, I'm a pollster," waving my clipboard. "I'm with Dean & Bean, doing a survey on political attitudes before the election. I rang the bell and..." I gestured at the assistant.
"Billie," she offered helpfully.
" ... Billie yanked me in. No checking up, no Marty, no points. Just a survey. But since I'm here maybe I could, you know, see what it's all about. I've always wondered what goes on at a movie set. I'll be a fly on the wall, I promise, a mouse. Invisible."
I'd exceeded his attention span and he took the path of least resistance. With a vague hand wave he said, "Fine, whatever, just stay out of my way. No talking, no noises. Billie, if she fucks up you're fired and I'm voting for some Bush again." So, he was paying some attention.
Cool! I was in, on the set of a cheap porno. Billie warned me to keep my phone totally off, no pictures either.
In the best tradition of the afterlife, I moved toward the light.
I saw a dick. A big one, even limp. And another big dick. My first lesson: there are big dicks on a porn set. You can intellectualize all day, have a solid grounding in porno theory, but until you actually see the dicks it's just academic. I had seen the dicks. And it was good.
Right now things were slow. Stopped, even. The two dicks and their attached hunks were at the craft services table snacking on nachos, along with some crew people and one towel-wrapped woman. The guys had no towels for modesty, which is about what I'd expect from well-hung dudes.
Ms. Towel, who I found out was Sarah, was cute, blonde and nicely curved, with firm B-cup tits. She was maybe 25, actually quite wholesome looking which I supposed was a big asset. If you saw her at the market you'd never peg her as any sort of sex worker.
Everyone but Alvie seemed content to relax, chat and nosh. Alvie was not content, because no one buys noshing movies, even ones with big dicks, and right now that's about all he could shoot.
I could just make out the conversation as he drew the cast aside. "OK, plan B. It looks like Brandy's lost so it's all you three. Guys, let's stop eating and, ah, start eating. How's your ass, honey, you up for a DP?"
Sarah made a little face. "I didn't prep and I'm not getting paid for anal, Alvie. You want the butt, come with the gelt." She was talking his language. "I'd need another five." I didn't know if that was hundred or thousand, but Alvie did.
"Shit, I can't afford that. I'll only save three grand by dropping Brandy. You can have that. C'mon, you're no virgin, and Billie can prep you. I swear there's more work next week. Do it for Alvie."
"Long as I don't have to do it with Alvie," she cracked. "Sure, OK, one DP for three bills and a player to be named later. But don't screw with me, Alvie. I got witnesses."
"You screw best in front of witnesses, babe. Let's do it."
What followed was educational, and I don't mean like Sesame Street. For something so blatantly sexual it didn't map out very sexy. Setup and blocking took half an hour. Coitus would be interruptus several times to change angles and re-light.
It started, like many of these, with Sarah on her knees sucking both guys, whose names were Dick and Dick. No, really Steve and Chris. They weren't hired for their math skills, but they did have a talent the industry values: they could fuck and fuck and more importantly, stop fucking on cue and pick up where they left off. They were machines, and they swear there are no prescription drugs involved. I don't know if I believe that.
It turns out the easy switch from straight sex to butt sex you might have seen on the screen, requires a bit of prep. Billie was more than Alvie's assistant, she was also the lube girl, in charge of getting Sarah's shitter cleaned out and working in a dose of sex gel. Sarah was a regular so it was easier than with a new girl, but the main thrust (ahem) was still to make it pain and shit free.
Billie wasn't a fluffer, exactly. She didn't have to work on the guys, just keep Sarah slick. So my second lesson: there are probably tons of jobs you never knew existed. Like, you don't see "lube girl" on many resumes.
Next, Sarah was laid out on the bed with Steve licking her crotch as she continued blowing Chris. I know it's a business and these people are actors, but it was also real sex and Sarah was getting into it. Her nipples, not shy to start, were now fully erect, and as the guys reached out to tug and twist them you could see Sarah's heat rise. Lesson three: sex is sex, and the mechanics of it work on or off camera. Even the pros get wound up.
A break in the action, a reset of cameras, a slight flagging and revival of the boys, and back into it. Now Steve was getting head as Chris pounded in from behind. I'd figured out where I could stand to get the best view without interfering, and saw every inch of Chris sliding into Sarah's pussy. His dick was fat enough to stretch her, and I watched her inner lips being pulled and pushed on each stroke.
.... There is more of this story ...