I woke up on a street in the midsts of the sun’s morning glow. Next to what was most likely my own puddle of puke laying right before the shade of a dying palm tree.
My head was pounding like the dysfunction tone of a 90s computer that just won’t stop and my mouth wouldn’t stop heaving desperately for moisture.
What the fuck happened last night?
I remembered parts of what was (hopefully) one of the great escapades of my life. I could recall Tony wanting me to have sex with that beautiful Emily for the sake of proving a point to Fabio. I also recollected the fact that I was only supposed to have a guys night out with Charlie. Other than that, all I knew was I swallowed a few more bourbons before I could remember (hopefully) that great escapade.
After that, much of the night remains in my memory as bits and flashes of dirty delight. I wasn’t too sure if I impressed Fabio as Tony wanted. Those bits and flashes happened to be hazy fragments of the very passion I told Tony I wouldn’t give in to; personal pleasure.
I looked at my phone only to realize it was ten in the morning on a Thursday. I was supposed to be at work but there was no way in hell my hungover ass would make it there. I could barely make it up to my feet.
My legs were all shakey. My body was crazy sore and felt like a load of bricks just wanting to collapse me. I had to use the palm tree for support. It felt strange to see so many people around me upon my early waking moment. They all seemed so persistent to get wherever the hell they needed to be on that Thursday morning.
I probably looked like a bum to them. Everyone was walking past me with this tenacious avoidance of eye contact. As though I was just another mindless drug fiend about to beg for their well-earned money. That made me rather uncomfortable.
And as this discomfort began to take hold of my mental state, I started to consider exactly what these people were so ignorant of. Sure, to their expectation, I was hungover beyond the reasonable limit of a responsible adult. However, to their lack of knowledge, I had intercourse with a woman of the top tier. A woman some of those around me probably get off to.
I couldn’t bear letting that discomfort completely take control of me. Even through my hungover state of mind, I needed to feel a justification for waking up next to my own puke on a city sidewalk on a Thursday morning. I needed to prove that I was right and all these people getting to work were wrong.
My justification was Emily.
Suddenly, my phone started vibrating. It was Charlie. Shit, I had nearly forgotten about him in all my wasted thinking. I should’ve contacted him immediately upon waking up.
“Charlie, thank God,” I answered.
“Dude, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” He sounded much angrier than I expected. I guess I knew that as soon as I dropped the news, that agitated tone would change into a charisma of enthusiasm. So, I just laughed right back into the receiver.
“You think this is funny, asshole? You know, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Christine turned you into a real bitch.” The fuck was he talking about?
Charlie must’ve had the wrong notion. I wasn’t too sure what that notion was, I just knew that it was completely off from the truth.
“Oh, Charlie. Trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this one. You downtown?”
“So what if I’m downtown? You better explain yourself now, man, because you’ve got me hella pissed.”
“Let’s meet at a bar. I’m gonna need a beer to explain this.”
I ended up at the only bar opened on a Thursday morning; some stereotypical Irish pub. Besides me, there was another in there, this woman with a cheap hair dew and too much make up to understand. She had this depressing aura around the corner table she sat at. The details of her complexion were hidden by dim lighting and by the look of the dirtied up wine glass in her hand, you could assume she’s already had one too many for a Thursday morning.
What really got to me was the fact that she didn’t let anything distract her from deep thought. Not even me walking into the bar. She just sat there with this merciless pity on her face.
I sat in front of the bartender and ordered a whiskey. She was an older woman, mid-thirties perhaps, and she was very charming in her manner of speech. Throughout our short conversation, she spoke with a smooth nature. As though she’s seen some shit you wouldn’t want to see, but still holds that affection you only hear in a woman’s voice. That nurturing aspect men just don’t have.
After a bit of friendly talk about our dislike in the fact that America’s allowing a man of business to run this country, she seemed interested in getting to know about me a little more.
“How come I’ve never seen you in here?”
“I’m not normally the type to drink this early,” I lied.
“Baby, you don’t have to bullshit me. A hardworking man’s gotta relax somehow.” Was she hitting on me? I couldn’t tell. On one side of the spectrum, I was feeling a bit of confidence due to last night’s great escapade. On the other end, this chick gets paid to get drunks to keep drinking.
I tipped my class and swallowed some of the whiskey. Immediately, I felt this wave of relief. I had once read somewhere that a hangover is nothing more than the body withdrawing from alcohol. For an alcoholic like myself, there’s always one easy fix to that.
After a few more sips, I was feeling alright when Charlie showed up.
The angry tone now wore a face. The way he eyed me made me feel guilty for no reason I could think of.
“I swear to God, you motherfucker,” was his greeting. “I can’t believe you pussied out like that, man. Ran off for your own goddamn pity. Cried yourself into a desperate coma. You know how much I fucking hate Christine? And how much I hate what she turned you into?”
Jesus Christ. To Charlie’s fairness, I did mention feeling uncomfortable in that strip club. I guess the alcohol wasn’t running through me well until I stepped outside. To be quite honest, I’m not entirely sure what came over me when I met Tony. But I felt different. Different enough to throw myself into a story Charlie probably wouldn’t believe.
“Dude, chill the fuck out,” I barked. The bartender was giving us these strange looks and I was still holding onto that notion that maybe she was hitting on me. “When I tell you where I went, you’re gonna realize I did exactly what you wanted.”
“What do you mean, ‘what I wanted’?” He ricocheted. “The hell did you think I wanted out of last night.”
“You wanted me to get laid.”
His voice changed to a reluctant anger, “So, what’re you trying to tell me?”
“I got laid,” I proudly confessed.
The bartender was now looking at me with interest. She didn’t even care to hide the fact that she was listening. She just stood there, staring at me, ready to hear the story just like Charlie was.
When I began with the whole bump in with Tony, both didn’t really believe me. I could tell by their suspicious eyes. As I got more in depth, I drank more to enlighten my enthusiasm. That probably didn’t help much with their suspicion.
However, as I got further into the story, Charlie began to buy it more and more. I think this had to do with whatever he was drinking. One glass turned into three and he seemed tipsy enough to the point where he really wanted to believe his best friend had succeeded at finding a woman to take his mind off his cheating wife. When I was getting into the details and using names like Fabio, Charlie knew well that I had entered into the world he so captively witnessed through his computer screen.
But when I got to the point where I had sex with Emily, he just couldn’t believe it.
“You fucking liar.”
“Bullshit. Emily doesn’t have sex with her fans.”
“I’m not a fan,” then I remembered, “There has to be a video floating around somewhere. She said she wanted it uploaded to her site. You’re a member. Check it out.”
As one of my best friends, I don’t think Charlie ever had the intention of witnessing me in the act of sex. Likewise, I don’t think I ever wanted him to see me so lustfully vulnerable. Yet, on that Thursday morning, in that dimly lit bar, Charlie saw exactly that. He had grown enough of an obsession with Emily to download her app and on the homepage of that app was the very video she made those men take of me last night.
And let me tell you, I looked like a fucking animal in it. By the look on the bartender’s face, I couldn’t tell if she was impressed or frightened. But from the look of Charlie’s, I knew he was well aware that I had just proven myself in a way he would’ve never expected.
“My God, Johnny,” he exclaimed. “How was she?”
“To be quite honest, I don’t remember,” I laughed. I found it funny how some of us fellas try so hard to get laid by gorgeous women such as Emily. And when the time finally comes, we don’t even remember the experience. All it remains is bits and flashes of what sex has always been; self-pleasure.
As we stepped out of the bar, Charlie questioned whether I got the job or not. I hadn’t even questioned that myself till that point. But to consider it, in that somewhat sober mindset I was in, I wasn’t all too certain if I could (or even wanted) to do porn.
It seemed like a gig so beyond my element, I was getting strange vibrations just thinking about how I even attempted a chance. Part of me was greatly hoping I simply made a fool of myself. Then again, how could I deny that that group of perverted entrepreneurs found my performance worthy enough to be posted online?
Shit. Come to think of it, I had already done porn.
With these thoughts came a sudden ringing from my pocket. It was from a number my phone didn’t recognize.
“Johnny, my man!” This was most certainly an excited Tony. “Last night was truly something. I don’t know if you checked the video out yet, but Fabio has already scheduled you for five shoots next week.”
Charlie turned to me, noticing the surprise on my face and developed a curiosity of his own.
“You think you can come by the studio this afternoon and give us another go?” Tony asked.
I must admit, the morning drinks weren’t giving me the confidence I needed to get naked in front of a camera with the full intention of having sex for (possibly) millions to jerk off to. Even after last night’s endeavor, I still felt insecure about a lot of aspects in my life. Namely, Christine.
I also couldn’t shake off the notion that all this could end my already settled career. The very one I worked so hard and pulled out so many loans for. No matter what happiness may come about in a life of being paid to have sex, there was certainly the headache of throwing away something so secure.
Then again, maybe I was missing something I wasn’t aware of at all. Maybe I was missing the point. That happiness wasn’t in the money or the security. Maybe it was in something I couldn’t foresee. This wouldn’t be the first time my perception has deceived me.
I stuck with my gut when I answered, “Sure. Text me the address and time. I’ll be there.”
As I hung up the phone, Charlie was shaking his head with this cocky smile and said, “You lucky son of a bitch.”
I decided I’d go home and shower just in case Emily was there. But first, we walked back into the bar, drank some rum to get my confidence fueling, and cheered for a life we didn’t even know.
I got to Devil’s Love Studios bubbling with delight.
For the first time in a while, I felt as though I had put myself in a situation where I expected nothing. There was a liberation in not caring how this played out. I felt calm and cool. Like a young man who’s just lost his virginity to the hottest girl in school.
Not only completely at ease but assured that this must be right.
Truly, the alcohol was running high.
I walked in, surprised to see the place looking very much like a modern hotel lobby. A large desk sat in front of a brightly colored array of furniture. There were no signs of sex anywhere; only professionality.
This rather large man in business attire sat behind the desk with this unfortunate look on his face. As though he regretted every minute he spent on his ass in that very spot.
“Hey,” I announced. “My name’s Johnny Lewis. I’m here to see Tony.”
“Isn’t everyone,” he spat. Slamming his finger on a buzzer, he yelled, “Tony! You got some twiggy bastarded here looking for you. Name’s Johnny.”
The buzzer replied, “Send him up! Send him up!”
Tony was very excited when I entered the set. I couldn’t blame him considering there were three gorgeous women standing behind him half-naked; one of them being Emily. When he approached and gave me a forceful bearhug, I came to realize his enthusiasm wasn’t for the pretty ladies. It was for me and my performance last night.
If only I could remember.
“Johnny boy! You ready to fuck?”
“I’m always ready to fuck, Tony.”
He seemed very delighted by that remark. Truth be told, I wasn’t entirely ready in that moment. While the crew was setting up the lights, I snuck a few more swigs from a little canteen I always carried on me. I couldn’t remember what I had poured into it, but it tasted like very old whiskey.
Emily came up to me after I was nice and ready and said, “You were truly something last night.” Upon looking into her seductive eyes, I got the sense that those hypnotizing pupils were trying to say. I began to think that maybe last night was special to her. The kind of intimacy most guys in this business couldn’t offer.
Something along the lines of love-making.
That’s what I was thinking. If only my inebriated mind could recall the animal I was in the video.
Fabio came bursting through one of the doors seeming peppier than everyone else. A white powder oozed out his nose as his eyes transfixed on the set before him.
“Jesus Christ, Tony. This place looks like shit.”
“I thought that’s what we were going for. A filthy environment.”
“Sure. Yeah. But you really outdid yourself here. My God,” he looked at me, Emily, and the other two girls, and clapped his hands. “Alright, you all ready to get going? C’mon. C’mon. I got three other shoots this afternoon.”
And with that, the ladies and I dropped our clothes and got in front of the cameras.
It was an oral scene involving the trio giving me a blowjob of any man’s dream. I’d get into the filthy details as to how good this felt, but it’s quite funny how my mind began to wander as soon as the cameras began recording. In fact, I had completely forgotten they existed.
I became entranced in something way beyond the jerk off material we were creating.
You see, for some chemically influenced reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off Emily. It didn’t matter whether she was the one giving me head or not, I only wanted to focus my attention on her. I found myself constantly petting her hair, caressing her face, letting her suck on my fingers – giving complete ignorance to the other two girls.
Fabio, likewise, took notice of this. At first, I didn’t see his slowly growing frustration being mumbled to Tony. However, soon enough, he made it apparent to me.
“Hey! The hell do you think you’re doing, Johnny? This scene ain’t all about Emily. I’m paying all four of you for a reason.”
It should be all about Emily, I thought. Not only was she the most attractive, but admittedly, she was the most talented when it came to sucking dick.
“Take it from the top,” Fabio demanded. “And this time, I want to see equal treatment. Action!”
And with that, I did exactly as told. I treated each woman as though their part in this blowjob was full of purpose, of wonder, of my every desire. But deep down, my eyes never strayed away from Emily. Even when she merely appeared in the corner of my sight, I couldn’t help but only notice her.
For there was something she did for me that these other girls couldn’t. As to what that something was felt very much like a sort of affection. There was just something about her presence that really got to me.
I felt comfortable. Warm vibrations wouldn’t stop sweeping through me at the sight of her. Truly, if it were my choice, I would’ve gotten rid of those other two girls. I would’ve gotten down on my own knees and offer Emily all the oral pleasure she desired. I would’ve treated her with something more than this jerk off material.
This comfort ended in a great misfortune. When Emily’s touch took over my conscious and lost me into an oblivion of consolation, I climaxed profusely.
To Fabio’s misfortune, this ended the scene twenty minutes too early.
“Jesus Christ, Johnny!” he screamed immediately upon the cameras cut. “If you wanna make it in this business, you gotta learn to hold it back around women who wouldn’t fuck you in real life.”
If only he knew, I thought. If only this bastard knew.
“I expect to still be paid in full,” one of those women demanded.
My fellow performers and I went into a locker room to shower and clean up. This was when Emily approached me, with those hypnotizing eyes, and began complaining about Fabio. Being his offensive remark (and Emily’s alluring presence), I couldn’t help but sense an agreement. Personally, she wasn’t a fan of how he always tried to control the performance.
“It’s funny,” I replied. “In Hollywood, they encourage actors and actresses to improvise if possible. Some of the most memorable movie scenes have come from improvisation. I guess I figured it’d be the same when I signed up for this gig. Especially considering the fact that we’re dealing within such instinctual realms.”
“God, you’re so right,” she beamed. “I’m telling you, man, I’m trying so hard to push my own site. I can’t deal with Fabio’s shit anymore.”
“That’s the route to take,” I approved. “Entrepreneurship.”
“Problem is, all those free sites really got this whole business fucked up,” she went on. “In order to get people to pay, you gotta offer them something they don’t get on those sites.”
Being that I’m a man who’s basked in those free porn sites throughout my three years of marriage, I never stopped to contemplate how the women I was treating myself to felt about their very own distribution. Emily seemed like she had brains on this matter and I felt fully intuned with what she had to say. You could tell she really put the thought into this.
“I have a plan, though,” she interrupted my stream of conscious. “Once I get enough recognition in the porn industry, I’m gonna go through a serious promotion. I’m gonna offer something none of those free sites – and Fabio! – will have access to.”
The next morning, I woke up with another hangover. This one was bearable enough to go to work.
God only knows what they’d do if I skipped again.
On my way there, I started thinking of ways in which I could (maybe) manage both my jobs at once. I figured I’d go to this bullshit nine to five at the start of my day, then I’d do the porn in the evening and night. It seemed manageable as long as Devil’s Love Studios operated in those evening and night hours. I wasn’t sure if they did.
I also wasn’t too sure if Tony would try to contact me while I was at this bullshit nine to five. I had assumed he was now my agent. I also assumed that he assumed I was always on call. I had yet to explain to him my unfortunate life situation.
When I got to the office, the parking lot looked full as ever. But the office itself looked quiet as ever.
Upon walking in, there was absolute silence. An array of computer screens lighted everyone’s shocked face. This made me a bit nervous as all those shocked faces were directed towards me.
At the end, centered between the rows and rows of desks, I saw Big Boss Man pulling his finger. Likewise, his full attention was on me and the finger gestured me to pursue a private conversation.
I should mention that nobody but me actually called him Big Boss Man. I just liked the sound of something that greatly matched his attitude. He was a very large man that held an overabundance of authority; the very kinda dominant male seeks to have. He also had this shiny bald head that I’ve always associated with a Big Boss Man. It was one of those bald heads someone has since they were in their early twenties.
I approached him with a lying innocence, hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy. We got into his office with this awkward silence between us. With the door shut, he sat me down, turned on the television, and there was my video from the night at the strip club with Emily.
“You mind explaining this?” Big Boss Man questioned.
“I think what I do outside this office is my concern and mine only.”
“That’s fine and all, Johnny. As long as you don’t record it and put it on the internet for anyone to see.”
“Who showed you this?”
“Well, Billy’s a pervert who pays to jerk off.”
“And you’re a pervert who’s now fired.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Illustration by A.D.D.