MY FIRST NUDE MODELING SESSION. 1.
written by:
Jillbaby

FOREWORD

This is another chapter about the challenges I faced as I moved through several stages from being a businesswoman to becoming a successful model in the adult industry.

At the age of twenty-two, I had recently been made redundant from my well-paid job, in London, one that had necessitated moving many miles from my hometown. I loved my little flat, but the rent was very high and I had fallen into arrears and was in danger of being evicted.

Another chapter in my life was about to begin.

MY FIRST NUDE MODELING SESSION. 1.

By Jillbaby ©

I opened my eyes and blinked in the ray of morning sun slanting through the gap in the curtains. I glanced at my alarm - 9.30. As usual, my first conscious thought was that I was horny, only a bit more than usual. Ah well, fuck it, I had nothing to get up for; certainly not a job.

My life had settled into a boring routine. I didn't even have a boyfriend, having just ended a brief relationship and my days were spent on fruitless job interviews or applying for them. Well at least I had time for my morning fun.

I had slept naked as always. I spread my legs and automatically ran one finger through the fine bush that I sported in those days. At its touch, my warm, already swollen outer lips parted easily. Yes, I was so wet already and I couldn't resist slipping my finger a little deeper into the moist heat.

I love this moment every time I start to play with myself. I always cum so easily if my clit is pleasured and I knew that I would soon experience the joy and release of a good strong orgasm. In preparation for what had become a morning ritual, since my unemployment, I reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out my black, jelly vibe.

I turned the vibrator onto the low setting and tested its buzz against my lips before bringing it to my left breast. Gently, I rolled the tip around my areola and revelled in the sensation of the nipple slowly rising and tightening. I took the aroused nipple between a finger and thumb and moved the smooth, rubbery head of the throbbing vibe to my other breast, bringing that nipple erect as well.

The heat of my body under the sheets was wafting my sexual odours up into my nostrils. The sheets had become permeated with an erotic mixture of my musky perfume and my juices over the past few days, and I made a mental note to change them. I was getting sloppy in more ways than one.

I slid the dildo slid slowly down my body, tickling my skin with its vibrations. When it reached my mound, I tilted it and pushed it down between my thighs until its quivering length was held flat against my pussy. I shuddered with pleasure, and wished that there was a cock poised ready to penetrate me.

My thoughts suddenly turned to the appointment I had that afternoon, and I felt a tremor of excitement. I was going for an interview for what had been described as adult modeling. I wasn't sure what would be expected of me and I was even less sure of what I would be prepared to do.

My imagination took over and drawing up my legs, I slipped the thick dildo into my unresisting, slippery cunt. My left hand glided down to turn the setting to full vibration before settling on my erect clit. My head began to roll from side to side on the pillow and my breathing quickened as I fucked myself slowly and steadily.

My vivid imagination pictured a faceless man shagging me relentlessly while a movie camera focused on me and the crew queued up to be next to fuck me. In a sudden lust-filled frenzy, I pumped the dildo wildly and my fingers raced over my clit. There was no one to hear my scream of release as a fierce orgasm engulfed me.

I had noticed the ad for models in the personal columns of my local paper while I was scanning for jobs. No harm in trying, I had thought and when I phoned the number given, a man called Bruce answered. He was rather evasive about exactly what kind of posing was required, apart from the fact that some nudity was involved. However, the potential hourly rate of pay was very attractive indeed.

After I had sent to his email address, a couple of photos of myself in a bikini, he emailed back with an appointment for this afternoon.

I know that there are thousands of stories about models and photographers, but this is how it really happened for me.

When it was time to get ready, my usual confidence started to evaporate. Would I be glamorous enough for what he wanted? Maybe I would be in competition with dozens of beautiful young women. From having wondered if I was prepared to be photographed in the nude, I suddenly switched to worrying that I might not be attractive enough.

I wasn't sure what to wear. If I was going to have to take my clothes off, then it didn't seem to matter. However, I wanted to make a good impression and after some thought I settled for a skimpy, black bra, thong, and suspender belt set that had been bought for me by a boyfriend. I had hardly ever worn it, because I don't usually bother with a bra, or stockings.

The bra was half-cup and I chose a white lacy blouse that I had worn for work, but for today I left the first three buttons undone. The black skirt was also from my business days, but by rolling over the waistband, the hem went from a bit longer than mid-thigh to leaving three-quarters of my thighs exposed. I hid the rolled waistband with a broad, black belt.

I found an unopened pack of sheer black stockings, and as I slowly smoothed the almost transparent nylon up my legs, and snapped on the garter clips, my pussy flooded unexpectedly, at the thought of men looking at my stocking tops when I crossed my legs.

That was my exhibitionist side coming to life and immediately my confidence returned. Yes, there might be beautiful women after the modeling job, but would they be prepared to do some of the things that I had got up to in the past, I wondered.

I felt even better when I stepped into my favorite black sandals that I had spent a fortune on for a former colleague's wedding last year. They were mostly strips of fine leather that wound around my toes and instep, and fastened with a spaghetti-thin strap around my ankle. The four-inch heels were wildly impractical and definitely not intended for walking. I much preferred to admire them when I was on my back with my ankles crossed around a man's neck.

When I crossed my legs, I revealed a slice of creamy thigh above the contrasting stocking tops. I wondered if Bruce would fancy some up-skirt shots. I don't normally use much make-up, so I decided to try a natural look and used only a little lip- gloss, after spraying my best musky scent behind my neck and on my hair.

It was a warm day, so I only needed a light summer coat to cover my outfit. As the vibrations from the bus traveled through my groin, I felt a strange mixture of emotions. Naturally, I was rather nervous, and yet I found that I was definitely horny. The tiny thong had pulled up into my pussy, and I hoped that it would not become too damp. I began to wish that I had popped a spare one in my purse.

Unaccustomed to restraint, my nipples were pushing against the lace of my bra, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat whenever the bus jolted. Some of my favorite masturbatory fantasies began to flit through my mind.

Bruce's studio was above a shop and as I climbed the stairs, my nerves were channeled into adrenaline and I steeled myself to go through with it. I was very sexually experienced, even then, but this was different. It seemed so cold-blooded to be stripping for a stranger, and I had few illusions as to what Bruce might be after, but I did need the money.

The door was opened by a man who appeared to be in his late twenties. Even with my heels adding to my five feet, eight inches, I had to look up to meet his sharp, brown eyes. His shoulders were broad in a tight white T-shirt, and combined with his height to give him an imposing appearance. His fashionably shaved head completed a very macho image.

His eyes examined me quickly from head to toe, and I was relieved when they crinkled in a smile. Bruce invited me to sit and then appraised me carefully from a few feet away.

"I'm going to be up front with you," he said. "I have just started my business and I'm looking to broaden my portfolio, so that I might make a living at this. The kind of adult shots I'm looking for are essential to the type of work I'm after." He explained that he couldn't afford professional models at that time.

"What kind of shots are we talking about?" I asked cautiously.

"I'm looking for material for the adult market," Bruce replied. His dark brown eyes bored into mine as he watched for my reaction. "We could start off with topless shots and see how we get on." He named the hourly fee.

In my previous job, I had learned how to negotiate. I kept my face perfectly still and looked away, to allow him time to examine the swell of my breasts revealed by the gaping blouse and low-cut bra. I crossed my legs and gave him my very best smile.

"Sorry, that's not enough," I said softly. Our eyes clashed, but my experience paid off, and he folded first. Looking away, he raised his offer, and after a suitable pause, I accepted - for topless only at this stage.

"How many sessions would you need?" I asked. His eyes ran up my nylon sheathed legs.

"However many it takes . . . three maybe," he replied. "Although, if it progressed beyond just topless, there would be more sessions and you could make a lot of money in a relatively short time. You have good looks, and the photos you sent me conveyed a definite sensuality. The camera seems to like you."

The fees for topless shots were not going to be enough to keep me going, and I knew that I would have to expose more to earn more. I had been given a month to start clearing my rent arrears, or I would be evicted. However, this was a good beginning.

"When do we start?" I asked.

"Right now, if you like," Bruce smiled. He produced the appropriate model release forms and after a quick read-through, I signed them.

I had enjoyed a tremendous amount of sex in the past, but it felt weird to be taking my clothes off for a man I had just met. I had recently developed a taste for some up-skirt flashing, but that put me in a position of control. Here I was the submissive, and it was a strange sensation.

Under his directions, I started a series of strip-tease type poses - slowly removing my blouse, and then sliding the bra, first off one breast, and then the other. Gradually my nervousness faded and I was delighted when my exhibitionist persona took over, and I began to enjoy myself. After all, he was only a man despite his position of authority, and I knew how to give men what they liked.

It began to feel as if I was seducing him. I ignored the camera and gazed into Bruce's eyes as I dropped my bra and cupped my breasts invitingly; squeezing and rolling them together, while tweaking my erect nipples.

My nipples didn't require any touching to arouse them for the camera, because in my excitement they were already thrusting up eagerly. I began to wonder if his instructions to stroke and caress my boobs were as much for his entertainment as for the photos, and my pussy juices were in full flow as usual.

I have been told that my arousal shows in my eyes, and he seemed to pick up on this, for he started taking some close-ups to include my face. I licked my lips, pouted, and smiled seductively as I pointed my nipples at him. I realised that I was not really acting, but just being my horny self and that I was instinctively being the vamp, not for the camera but for the man.

I was fully aroused and amazingly, I began to feel empowered. I was relishing being paid just for playing with my tits. Naturally, I let Bruce have enticing glimpses up my skirt and I detected a bulge at his crotch. He wasn't much of a talker and didn't comment as he worked. Eventually he called a break, and after pulling my blouse loosely over my boobs, I accepted his welcome offer of a glass of wine.

Bruce made little attempt at conversation as he fiddled with his cameras and I was quite relieved not to have to indulge in chitchat. Eventually he spoke.

"I was hoping that you might be interested in moving on to full nudity. At a higher rate of course," he added quickly. Expecting this, I had already trawled through model sites on the internet to see what sort of money they charged. Nervously, I asked how much, and when he told me, my thoughts raced in time with my pulse. It was good money for an amateur; I must have been making quite an impression on him.

"Okay," I said.

I removed my blouse again and we started with some up-skirt shots. I wondered if my wetness was showing. After all, a damp patch was surely a good thing for porn photos.

Following Bruce's instructions, I slowly dropped to my knees in the doggy position, my breasts swinging freely. My skirt slid right up and my skimpy thong was pulled tightly into my damp slit, framed by the firm mounds of my ass.

"That's it, part your thighs a bit," he encouraged, as he crouched behind me. It felt really strange to be exposing myself so invitingly, without expecting a man to follow it up and slip his dick into me. Nonetheless, my slutty posing was making me very horny.

Bruce then took a series of up-skirt shots of me sitting on a chair - legs crossed to reveal loads of white thigh and stocking tops, and open leg views of my crotch Next was the continuation of the strip tease with my skirt slowly coming off to reveal my thong and garter belt.

Then it was time for the knickers to come off, and I became even hornier. I teasingly slid my thong, lower and lower, revealing more and more of my brown, curly bush. My clit tightened, as with the damp thong round my ankles, I pulled my thighs up to my breasts, for some more photos. I was sure that my dampness would be visible and I thought that Bruce's breath was sounding heavier.

When I was naked except for my stockings and stilettos, I felt very vulnerable, and yet awkward. Normally the next stage for me would have been for a man to be fucking me, and my nakedness seemed a waste. However, Bruce was calm and reassuring. He drew back a curtain to reveal an upholstered sofa bench and spread a silky, floral sheet over it before inviting me to sit there.

"Spread your legs, Jill. I want some more close-ups of that lovely pussy," he said encouragingly. I closed my eyes, leaned back against the wall, and slowly spread my legs. After a moment or two, he shocked me by whispering,

"Touch yourself, Jill."

I hesitated, but I was as horny as hell. Then, keeping my eyes closed I slid my hand down to my pussy. In a reflex action, I danced my fingers around my sticky, tingling cunt lips and shuddered at the thrill that ran through me. Bruce, no doubt encouraged by my co-operation, whispered again,

"Make yourself cum, Jill."

To my amazement, as if in a hypnotic trance, I started to masturbate for him. I touched my swollen clit. It seemed to pulse in time with my racing heart, and as I circled it gently, I knew that I would cum quickly.

I became intensely aware of nothing but my body. I twisted my nipples, with one hand while my other worked slowly with two fingers pushing inside me, and my thumb on my engorged clit.

All the sexual energy that had been simmering while I was posing suddenly boiled up into a fierce, demanding, force that took total control of me. Somehow, the knowledge that a camera was recording my intimate and very personal act inflamed my excitement.

I drew a nipple out to double its normal size and bit my lips from the strange mixture of pain and pleasure. My cunt was screaming to be filled by a cock or a dildo and I forced first three, then four fingers into my oozing opening, desperately seeking relief.

In my frenzy, I wantonly hitched up one leg and rested my foot on the bench with my legs akimbo to give me deeper access as my fingers worked feverishly, my eyes squeezed shut in concentration. I heard his husky voice, almost in my ear,

"That's great. That's it baby. Fuck yourself for me. You are so hot. That's it Jill." Something made me open my lust-glazed eyes. They were met by the sight of the enormous bulge in Bruce's jeans, as he stood over me, a camera poised. That pushed me over the edge. Gasping and shuddering, as my walls started to convulse on my fingers, my wrist pumped, and my thumb danced on my clit. Then an unstoppable wave of pleasure started at my toes and spread rapidly up my spine.

A full-body orgasm almost blew my head off and my legs jerked in spasms like a puppet. I opened my mouth and let rip a howl of pleasure then sprawled against the wall behind me, still quivering all over.

My ecstasy faded, and for a moment or two, I felt too embarrassed by my performance to open my eyes. I imagined the camera capturing the image of my fluids oozing out over the knuckles of my fingers which were still inside me. Finally, I withdrew my fingers and opened my eyes. In my dazed state, I found myself staring in fascination at the camera still pointing at me. I realized, to my surprise, that Bruce was holding a camcorder which he had clearly used for my masturbation scene. Sneaky, I thought, with a pang of annoyance as I reached for my clothes.

Bruce stepped away and called over his shoulder,

"That was wonderful Jill, thank you. That will do for today." My mind was churning as I dressed. It had gone further than I had expected and I felt distinctly guilty. However, my confidence was boosted by the enthusiasm in Bruce's voice as we arranged another session after the weekend.

When I was ready to go, Bruce put some banknotes for the afternoon fees into my hand,

"Okay, Jill. Are you sure that you haven't done this before? You're really hot." I held my hand open and stared at him.

"You didn't say anything about a camcorder, and a sex show," I said firmly. He looked surprised, but I held his gaze, hoping that I wasn't pushing my luck too far. I really didn't have a clue as to what my performance was worth. But he had asked me back. Once again, our eyes locked.

Eventually Bruce smiled and counted several more notes into my hand. I thought that I detected a glint of respect in his eyes, but it might have been lust. Satisfied, I closed my hand and stashed the money away.

"We might try something a bit hotter next time," he said, watching for my reaction, and I found myself nodding in agreement. Bruce accompanied me to the door, and as he reached to open it for me, he kissed me formally on the cheek and said,

"See you on Monday, Jill."

Having resisted the temptation to spend money on a taxi, I waited for my bus with a happy heart, and a reasonably contented pussy. On the journey home, I smiled for the first time in a while, as I ran my fingers over the crisp banknotes in my purse. However, thoughts about what Bruce might have in mind for our next session, kept returning to my mind.

I had found the posing surprisingly arousing and I was tempted to visit a club. However, I managed to resist the temptation to squander some of my much-needed money and the following morning I made a payment towards my rent arrears.

--------------

Monday morning arrived. I put on the same lingerie and shoes but with a short floral dress. However, for makeup I decided to go for a sexy, smoky eyes look. Squinting into the mirror, I lined my eyes with a black eyeliner pencil, and then carefully smudged it upwards and outwards towards my eyebrow and the corners of my eyes, finishing with a dab of blue powder. The usual splash of my scent and I was ready.

This time I felt less nervous but was definitely more aroused at the prospects of what Bruce might have in mind. When he ushered me in I was surprised to see another man in the studio.

"Hi Jill, this is my partner Don," he announced. I eyed Don suspiciously, as he casually waved a greeting from where he sprawled on a small armchair. I felt his confident bright, blue eyes undressing me as he looked me up and down.

He appeared to be in his late teens, tall and muscular, a hunk if there ever was one. He had dark, short-cropped hair and was dressed in skin-tight jeans and a black sleeveless T-shirt. Automatically, my eyes moved to his crotch. From the way that he had arrogantly spread his long legs, he seemed to be inviting me to have a good look at what he had between them. The banana shaped outline, seemed to give him reason to be confident and the word stud immediately came to mind.

"What is he doing . . ." I started, but Bruce interrupted.

"Don is my partner and he is here to help me with setting some poses." I made a token protest about Don being in the room, but Bruce just brushed it aside laughingly.

"No point in being shy, if you want to be a model, Jill." I decided not to bite the hand that was feeding me.

As if to ease me in again, we started with a few quick strip-tease shots of me getting undressed. While Bruce gave instructions, Don helped to move me into the required poses. He was being very correct and touched me only on my arms, as I got into position. Nevertheless, it was making me very excited to be stripping off in front of two strangers and to have one so close-up.

Eventually when I was naked save for the black stilettos and stockings, Bruce handed me a robe and we paused for a break. When he opened a bottle of wine, I gratefully gulped down two glasses while we chatted. Don was much more outgoing than Bruce and quite amusing, in a macho kind of way.

As you would expect they seemed perfectly relaxed about having seen me naked. However, since it was all new to me, I couldn't help being terribly aware of the sexual context and my body kept responding. I wondered if the professional models got as horny as this.

Bruce produced some cheap looking, red lingerie. It consisted of a red crotch- less thong, a peephole bra and some flimsy negligees; as well as a platform bra which pushed up my breasts but didn't cover them at all.

At that stage in my life, I had developed the taste for going without panties in warm weather and doing some very discreet flashing, but I had never dared to wear anything as slutty as this. I was relieved that at least they seemed to be freshly washed.

I put on the panties and peephole bra and when I saw myself in the full-length mirror, I felt that they made me look much more pornographic than when I was naked. My nipples were poking invitingly through the holes, and the slit in the thong was so wide that my lips were clearly visible through the fuzz of hair. Men are always pleased to see how wet they can make me, but I shivered with embarrassment when my reflection revealed beads of moisture on the fine down around my pulsing slit.

I was placed in some very suggestive, "fuck-me-now" poses and Don's breathing was getting heavy as he hovered over me. Each touch of his fingers on my arms and legs seemed charged with electricity, causing the hairs at the nape of my neck to stand erect. A quick glance at his crotch confirmed that his cock was doing the same.

We took another break. Somehow, the robe I had used earlier had vanished and I was wearing a black, almost transparent negligee. I gulped down some more wine, and tried to forget that I was wearing red crotch-less knickers and a peephole bra. Although the men seemed to be treating it all very casually, I caught their eyes roaming over me.

For my part, and to my shame, I couldn't stop staring at Don, because he was eye candy of the first rank, and very charming with it.

I have been very active sexually since my early teens. But within the last couple of years, I had started to experience the occasions when a gut-wrenching lust possesses me totally. It might sound crazy, but it is much more than normal horniness and it can happen suddenly when the slut inside me takes over. I lose control of my sexuality and I have to satisfy the craving.

It had lain dormant over the past few months, but the combination of an easing of my money worries and this sexy posing had awakened it. I was more sexually excited than I'd been for a very long time. I kept eying Don's bulge, and wondered how long I could hold out if the men raised the stakes.

We finished our drinks and Bruce cleared his throat. For the first time, "Mr. Cool" looked nervous.

"Jill, I need some sex shots for my portfolio," Bruce said, watching me closely. "Are you interested?"

"Sex . . . sex shots?" I asked hesitantly. "I don't know . . . What did you have in mind?"

"Actually, it would be just simulated sex shots," Bruce replied. "There wouldn't really be any penetration. You and Don would get on the sofa naked and go through the posed motions."

Don chipped in, "I've done this many times, and I know how far to go without actually penetrating you," he said with a confident grin. His crotch drew my gaze like a magnet and his slacks were doing a very poor job of disguising a magnificent erection. My clit immediately firmed in automatic response.

My mind was telling me that I should walk out now, before things got out of hand, but my body wasn't listening and I seemed to be rooted to my chair. Once again, I considered the haunting prospect of going back home as a failure, to live with my disapproving parents, and face the gloating of my former friends who had been jealous of my previous success.

"How much money are we talking," I heard myself ask, like a hardened pro. All my survival instincts were on full alert and I felt like a jungle creature being stalked by a predator. He named the fee. But I recognized, as only a woman can, the glow of desire in his eyes, and I knew that my body had bargaining power.

"No, that's not enough," I said, casually letting my thighs part. He hesitated, as his eyes were irresistibly drawn to my moist pussy, framed by the slutty red scrap of a thong. Finally, he named a fee, but stipulated that it would be for videoing the scenes, and not just for still photography. In addition, I had to allow Don to kiss me and stroke my breasts.

Although I only had the fees quoted on the model sites to go by, I knew that the money was very good and that he must have been confident of selling the tapes to recoup his outlay. Bruce continued,

"Like I said, we can just do simulated sex. We won't do anything you don't want and all you have to do is say stop if you think things are going too far."

My mind and body churned with conflicting impulses - embarrassment, sexual excitement, and the thought of the money. A little voice of caution was piping up, warning me off. However, it was being drowned out by the excitement of making so much money so easily.

"OK, I'll do it," I said. "But if I say no at any point, that's it, game over." The men smiled and Don bustled to adjust some lights, while Bruce checked the cameras.

Still wearing the negligee, and revealing lingerie, I perched nervously on the edge of the studio sofa. Don casually started to undress, not even bothering to turn his back and in a matter of seconds he was naked. I wanted to look away, but simply couldn't stop watching him.

Don's cock seemed longer than average, and was about normal thickness. It was difficult to tell because he supported it with his hand. I studied the rest of his body as he walked towards me.

A lean, hairless chest tapered down to his narrow waist, and he had the outline of a developing six-pack on his flat stomach. His long legs showed signs of some sporting or athletic activity. He sat down beside me as Bruce hovered with a camcorder.

"Just relax and follow my lead," Don said softly. He drew me in and our lips met. I suddenly remembered all the acting jokes about not using tongues. To be fair he didn't attempt to put his tongue into my mouth, but his lips were skilled and sucked and caressed mine so well that I had to struggle to resist thrusting my tongue between them.

He slowly drew the negligee up and over my head and arms and dropped it on the floor. While licking my pebble-like nipples thrusting through the bra he reached behind me and unhooked it. No doubt for the camera, he let it hang on my nipples for a moment before it fell to the floor.

Then, taking each of my breasts into his hands, Don's skilled lips and tongue sucked and kissed them. I closed my eyes and let the sensual feelings wash through me. It seemed that my facial expressions of pleasure were sufficient, for thankfully, Bruce wasn't asking me to make the usual fake sounds used by porn actresses.

He stood up and I was at eye level with his cock which was now rock-hard and swaying gently against his belly. Bruce smiled happily, as he moved in for close-ups of my face and the expression in my eyes as I gazed at the hardon. Don leaned forward to whisper in my ear,

"Take it in your hand and bring it right up to your mouth as if you're going to suck it."

My fingers tingled madly as they closed round the hot, firm flesh. He was very hard and I could feel the veins pulsing against my skin as I tried to ease the rod towards me. When it resisted, I sat up and Don bent over me. I moved my mouth towards the head and when I saw the usual drop of clear fluid in the crack, every instinct urged me to lick it and my tongue went out on automatic pilot.

When the tip of Don's cock was less than an inch from my lips, I managed to remind myself that I wasn't being paid enough for actual sex and resisted the urge to take it in to my mouth. Bruce stopped the camera and I nearly giggled hysterically as I half-expected him to shout "cut" like a film director. It was with some reluctance that I released Don's cock and let it spring back.

What immediately followed was the type of fake action scenes that I had seen in soft porn videos. I knelt in front of Don and the camera, from behind, captured my head bobbing back and forwards into his lap, while he was actually holding his cock inches away from my face. I noticed that more juices had escaped from his cock and he was slyly stroking his hands up and down smoothing them into his erection. When his left hand reached down to cup a breast I could feel the slippery fluids on my nipple.

I was in a state of complete turmoil. Somehow, the restrictions on our activities were making everything very erotic, as if we were playing a sex game at home. My mercenary instincts to make as much money as possible, by not giving too much away easily, were conflicting with my raging horniness.

Then it was time for the simulated fucking.

I realized that I was trembling like a virgin as Don gently eased me on to my back. With my legs drawn up in the fuck-me position, still clad in the black nylons, he knelt between them. Slowly and deliberately, the red thong was drawn down over my hips and up my legs and Bruce moved in for a shot of the panties stretched around my ankles and the strappy stilettos.

Then they came off completely.

Don would now go through the motions of shagging me, but the camera would be at the side so that my pussy was blocked by our legs. I shuddered as he hovered over my naked body and looked down at my exposed pussy. He gently positioned my legs around his narrow waist and started his humping actions.

As he got lower, his hairy balls began to brush my pussy lips. It was a very sensual experience and I quivered with excitement. I was by then totally into what was going on and all nervousness had evaporated. I began to feel that I was losing control, but it just felt so good. Don arched his back and pretending to nuzzle my ear, whispered,

"Don't panic, I'm going to push my cock down between your ass cheeks to make it look more realistic."

Supporting himself on one arm, he reached down with the other. I felt the bouncy hot flesh of his dick brush my wet pussy lips and then it was trapped between my buttocks.

Then, the shit hit the fan.

The back of his hand brushed my clit and I groaned as a flash of intense pleasure sizzled up my spine. I jerked compulsively, causing Don's cock to slide up the wet crevice of my swollen lips until the spongy tip lodged against my opening.

I will never know which of us made the crucial movement, but suddenly the bulging head slipped effortlessly into the first two sensitive inches of my leaking cunt.

"Oh fuck . . . Oh fuck," I cried as the shock of pleasure blasted my brain. That was it - I was past the point of no return. Without even thinking about it, I tightened my legs around his waist for leverage, raised my hips, and impaled myself on his cock.

Without hesitation, Don slid his hands under my butt and pulled me in even tighter, pinning me to the sofa. I opened my eyes to see Bruce's reaction. He was clutching his hard-on through his jeans with one hand and filming with the other. Through the roar of blood in my ears I heard Don saying something for the video.

" Is this what you want, slut?" He asked.

Suddenly I didn't care about the filming any more. All the turmoil from my financial difficulties was forgotten. I was helplessly in the grip of my gut-wrenching lust and all I wanted right then was for Don's big, beautiful cock to fuck me into oblivion. I dug my nails into his shoulders,

"Yes," I hissed, "Yes."

Don started to ream me steadily, with deep measured thrusts. He was good. In and out, back and forth, his cock pumped smoothly, maintaining that regular rhythm that is so important in helping a woman to cum. Even as I gave myself up to the sensual thrills pulsing through my body I could hear in some dim corner of my brain, the sound of Bruce with his camera as he moved around us.

The nails of one hand dug into Don's hard biceps while my other hand stroked my clit feverishly and my hips swung sweetly in time with Don's. I wanted it to last forever, but the erotic novelty of the situation had brought me to a peak of excitement and my body started to tremble uncontrollably after only a short time.

"Ahhhh, God! Oh God! Fuck me!" I wailed shamelessly, as I climbed towards a climax. Closer, closer, closer; I feel the tension in my groin bubble up, and then explode in blessed relief. My banshee orgasmic wails echoed around the small studio as Don continued fucking me, perhaps hoping to force me to cum again. However, the clutching contractions of my cunt were too much for him and he followed me into ecstasy very quickly. His body shook and I could feel spurt after spurt of warmth deep inside me.

I opened my eyes to see Bruce almost dancing from foot to foot as he focused his camera. Obligingly, Don sat back on his haunches, and eased out his still-erect prick. Shaking out some final globs of cum over my stomach, he massaged them into my skin and pubes.

Bruce signaled that he had stopped filming and Don climbed off me. He smiled and patted my cheek, as if we had just shared a cup of coffee instead of a rollicking fuck. Bruce moved closer.

"Pull up your legs please, Jill," I want some cream-pie footage."

I obeyed, but with my lust satisfied, I began to feel embarrassed again. The feeling was intensified when he crouched over me, and requested me to finger my pussy and spread the leaking creamy semen.

Nevertheless, I started thinking of money again, and decided to act the complete whore. I did as he wanted and massaged the warm, slippery fluid into my flesh as it oozed onto my fingers. When Don mimed what he wanted me to do, I obediently raised my cum smeared fingers to my lips and made a show of sucking them clean.

"That will do for now. Great stuff, Jill," Bruce called enthusiastically. As I calmed down, my head was spinning. What the fuck had I done? I knew that I was feeling great after my lovely fuck and orgasm but what a slut I had been; and recorded on film too!

Don was calmly dressing and I hurried to the small washroom to clean up and put on my dress. As I washed, conflicting thoughts battled for dominance. I wasn't feeling as guilty or ashamed, as I had expected. I hadn't been acting after all, but had genuinely given in to my body. However, I had to decide if I wanted to continue as a porn actress, although I suddenly felt a rush of euphoria at the thought of the money I was earning and from having carried out my part so well.

The men greeted my return with a smile and Bruce was looking very pleased with himself as he handed me my fee.

"Jill," he declared, "you really are a natural at this game. I can give you more hard-core work if you want it. At an even higher fee of course," he added.

Suddenly I felt tired and drained. All my adrenaline-fueled energy faded away, and I sat down. I honestly and truly wasn't sure what to do as I looked around the dingy studio. Then I felt a spark of my usual optimism. Maybe I really was cut out for this kind of work, and Bruce could be a stepping-stone for me to better things. I named the fee I wanted and Bruce's smile faded. He and Don looked at each other. There was a brief silence, and then he said,

"Fine, we'll see you at the same time tomorrow."

TO BE CONTINUED