"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.
Yeah, if I'd been watching this on a screen I'd probably have snickered at the whole thing. But honestly, being right there was arousing. If it felt half as good as it looked it was a joyride. I know us girls aren't supposed to be as visual as guys, but damn, I had a dugout view of some raw, steamy sex and it was getting to me. No Billie needed, I was starting to lubricate and squirm. My hand strayed inside my slacks and I put some pressure around my throbbing clit for relief. And rubbed just a little.
And wouldn't you know: caught. Alvie, seemingly intent on the action, looked up just as I looked at him. I think it was the first time he really noticed me, and by the way he grinned I knew he was checking out more than my hand action. This is a guy who's seen many women naked, sucking and fucking, so my little indiscretion couldn't have been a shock to him. Yet his gaze lingered as he took in my small frame, especially the spots where my braless and now very erect nipples poked out the silk of my top.
Well, I thought, that's out of the bag, no sense in worrying now. I made no effort to hide what I was doing as the scene on the bed was reset again. In a few minutes Sarah was bouncing on Steve's substantial spear as Chris stood by giving her a mouthful. Then Steve pulled her forward, mashing her pert cones against his hairy chest and fully exposing her greased anus to me, to Chris, and through the camera, to the wide, wide world.
Chris knelt to probe that hole with the tip of his cock, and after a token bit of natural resistance from Sarah's rubbery ring, slipped an inch into her ass. I tried to watch both his progress and Sarah's reaction. No doubt about it, she liked it and so did Chris. After a short pause he pushed straight in, all 8 or so fat inches, and his balls dragged across Steve's shaft. Like me, these guys weren't bi, but they sure weren't shy.
Then the rhythm started, two cocks stroking in and out of Sarah, working her to a fever pitch. Two minutes, five minutes, good god how could they take this without climaxing? I was so close myself I had to put my free hand in my mouth to keep quiet. Then my orgasm hit and I slid soundlessly to the floor as my legs gave out. Fuck what a come. Alvie saw, the crew saw, and I didn't care who saw.
The three on the bed didn't see. They were in their own groove, always with an eye to the cameras and what was expected of them. I'm not as professional in my job as they were in theirs. They kept on fucking as the crew flowed around them and a still photographer snapped silently to document the scene.
Sarah came. I know she did. There's fake and there's real and I know they're actors but I know what I saw. She came hard, and that was the signal for the money shot. Chris pulled out of her ass and stood, then Sarah hopped off Steve and knelt to catch the rain. The men took a few more strokes and out it pulsed, first one then the other. Sarah caught some on her tongue but the bulk sprayed her face, just as the audience likes it. Finis. Fade to black.
Alvie called 'Cut' to the cameras and the three actors laughed and joshed. Ho hum, another day at the office. Yeah, sure. They could say it was just a job, but it was also some primo sex. It feels good to get off, even in semi-public. Like I now knew.
As the cast hit the showers I got my clipboard, hoping to slip out unnoticed in the general bustle of the strike. But Alvie had other ideas. He collared me by the kitchen door and sat at the table.
"Hey, Avon lady, what's your hurry? How was your first porn set? I don't have to ask if you enjoyed yourself. If the public has half that much fun I can retire to St. Barths on this one," he grinned. "So what's your name, Red? I'm Alvie, I guess you know that."
"Ah, I'm Carie and I'm not selling anything," I joked. "Just taking a poll."
He tilted his head a bit to peer out of one eye. "Taking a pole is what Sarah does. Don't tell me you really are in the business?"
I started to explain that no, different kind of poll ... but his chuckle stopped me. I blushed like a girl. Well, I am a girl, but I was more embarrassed by not catching the joke than I was at my open masturbation. It troubled me that I wasn't more abashed. I should have been beet red and running away, but instead I was chatting about poles with a guy twice my age who paid people to fuck on camera. And to think just this morning I was refilling decaf for hipsters.
I sat too. As we chatted we reassessed our initial impressions. Alvie was no dummy, and I think he was so used to bimbos that he was surprised I wasn't a dummy either. He'd graduated with majors in math and literature, traveled Europe by rail and bike, and had married and divorced in the distant past. I told him I'd finished college in three years and wanted my own political PR firm -- that's why I took this job for Dean & Bean.
I had to remind myself that I was getting comfortable with a guy who'd watched me get myself off in front of his crew, who might still smell pussy on my fingers. The smart play was to get out of Dodge and go back to canvassing. Oh shit, my partner Paul was probably insane by now since we hadn't reconnected at the end of the street. Shit, shit. I had to go.
Or not. I turned my phone back on and saw 10 texts from Paul, so I called. He was frantic, but I cooled him off with some bullshit and by the time we hung up he was down to just pissed. Alvie was grinning again.
"Pretty smooth, Red. If I hadn't been here I'd have believed you myself." He leaned forward. "But I was here. I watched you diddle your clit while my actors fucked. I think I know you a bit better than your Paul guy."
I was shocked at his directness, though I shouldn't have been. He wasn't saying anything we didn't both know.
"I'm curious. What got to you most? Do you like seeing big cocks, or was it the butt fucking? Did you imagine you were Sarah, getting it from both ends and your face all spermy?"
"I, I..." I couldn't respond. His bluntness was both disarming and threatening. No one I knew talked like this. But being part of that scene had been like permission to be nasty. I took a deep breath and dived in.
"It was all of it. The setup. The crazy loose attitude that's part of your business. And yes, dammit, I did like seeing cocks with that size and stamina, imagining I was the one getting fucked, fucked in the ass. And knowing people were watching. Especially that." I was baring my sexual soul to a man I'd just met and I had no idea where this was heading.
Billie came into the kitchen and saw me with surprise. "What ... why are you still here?" Her eyes never left me as she spoke to her boss. "Alvie, that Brandy showed up and I told her she missed the shoot but she still wants her money. What should I do?"
"Tell her to get lost. This isn't the first time she's flaked on me but it's the last. Fucking druggies think they get infinite chances. Kick her out. Grab Bruce if you need a persuader."
She left and he continued, "People think AIDS, STDs are the bane of this business but it's drugs, it's always been drugs. Most of the women are damaged goods, and they need their crutches. Nothing we can do."
He looked at his watch and said, "I only have this rental for another hour. I'd love talk more but I have to wrap up and cash out. It's all pay-me-now in this racket. The only ones who don't get paid right after are the ones I pay before. No trust," he smiled, and handed me a business card. "Give me a ring and we'll get some dinner. It'd be nice to spend time with a smart sexy woman who isn't part of this nutty mess," he said with a sweep of his hand.
I told him I'd think about it, knowing I would but knowing I wouldn't call.
I did think about it, a lot. I could summon up a shudder just picturing what I must have looked like to everyone as my legs gave out in the throes of orgasm. I was glad none of those people knew know who I was, or would ever see me in the street and remember me as the girl who ... you know, that girl.
And no, I didn't call. Once I was out of that immediate scene, reality set back in. That wasn't a business, and Alvie wasn't a man, I could have anything to do with. I tried to forget all about it.
But life has its ways, right? It may be a big town, but it's a small world. It got smaller the day our hostess seated this middle-aged guy at one of my tables. Yes, it was Alvie. He hadn't seen me yet and I briefly considered sneaking out the back and playing ill.
But I needed the shift and the tips and I thought, how bad could it be?
"Yep, and some oran ... whoa, Red, it's you! What the hell? Don't tell me you gave up politics to sling hash?"
So this was just a coincidence. "No, I still do polling, this is my day job until I get enough cash together to poach some of D&B's clients," I smiled. "It's a nice place and the tips rock."
"We seriously have to get dinner," he said. "I've thought about you the past couple of months and I know we could be pals. Say you will. Still have my card? Use it. And now I know where you work, I can bug you in person."
He flirted throughout his meal and while that's something I deal with all day every day, it felt different with Alvie. We had a connection we never mentioned but which was the loudest thing in the room. We'd watched people fuck. He'd seen me come. Clothed, but still. He knew my fantasies.
Now he'd re-sparked the feelings of that outrageous day, and I knew they weren't going to be easy to shut down again. In the weeks since, every time I came, no matter who I was with (if anyone), it was to full color visions of that session. But I hadn't had one orgasm even close in intensity. I wanted that again, and I might not ever get it.
A week later I called.
"Hey Carie, perfect timing. What's up? Ready for a dinner? I'm just wrapping up something and I can meet you in about a half-hour. Steak OK, or are you in some alternative foodscape?"
We had dinner that night, and again a few days later. It was low key, Alvie was just fun to be around. We seemed to be past our, um, introductory experience. He never brought it up, even though I was on alert for any nuances. And you know it was always on my mind.
I can see why some girls go for older men. It wasn't a daddy thing for me, Alvie was just more worldly than the guys I usually saw. He wasn't consumed by sports or video games or big-titted porn stars ... oh wait, strike that. But for him it was business. I was conflicted about that, having always seen those women as victims, but he was just, I don't know, nice to me.
I slept with him on the third date, my idea, and I think I'd invested too much into the possibility. I guess I was expecting a remake of the film running in my head, but the sex was only great, not mind-blowing. None of the components of my new fantasies were there: no big dicks (but no complaints), no butt sex, and ... no one watching.
And he knew. Dammit, he could read me like a twitter feed. We tried another night and it was still good, but he could tell I was unsatisfied. When he called again I hesitated. But he played his ace: we'd finally have the talk we'd been avoiding.
"Carie baby, I think we do OK but I can tell you want more. Not more like, commitment, but just, you and I have to deal with the elephant in the room, and the elephant has two dicks. We started out in a weird way, and I've been trying to steer us back to what I think you think is 'normal', but that was wrong. You don't just want normal. You want ... more."
Well, exactly. I didn't know how to get it, either. But Alvie did.
"Tell you what, let's talk face to face tonight. I have a shoot that'll run late, but why don't you meet me there after the strike and we can find a quiet place to talk it through."
He gave me the address of the rental and I said I'd see him at seven.
This location was a lot like the last one, a suburban house with ceilings high enough for the set lights. The shoot was running even later than he thought, and as Billie let me in she said they'd had to rework things because another actress hadn't shown up.
The set was unlit and the guys, Steve and Chris again, were hanging out (yes, actually hanging out) at the snack table with Alvie and the crew. I didn't see any babe in a towel, but otherwise it was just like last time.
You know what? I'll bet you're already ahead of me. I was so focused on our talk after the shoot, that I missed the cues.
Alvie waved me over. "C'mon Red, meet the guys!" He introduced me around. Everyone was normal, polite, just like any office with two swinging dicks. I managed to keep my eyes above belt level. No I didn't.
"Hey, sorry about this, we hit a snag. Our female lead had an accident on the way here and ended up at the hospital. But, hey, maybe you can help us out. I know you can fuck ... think you could fuck on camera?"