Page 4 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Yep! Tony?” Even if I didn’t recognize his face, the tattoo on his right bicep is one I’ve seen many times during my self-care sessions. My cheeks warm at the most recent memory.

“Good to meet you, come on in.” Tony steps aside and allows me access to the room.

It’s much larger than my home for the week. The king-size bed juts out into the room next to a stiff-looking couch. An armchair, coffee table, and desk round out the ‘livingspace’. The curtains are flung wide open to allow as much natural light as possible to hit the furniture. His tripod is set up, angled toward the bed.

“How was your flight?” Tony asks, closing the door behind me.

“Not bad, I got delayed out of Chicago,” I say absently, still examining my surroundings.

“Does it meet your expectations?”

“It’ll do,” I tease and set my bag against the wall furthest from the bed.

The first step is always administrative stuff, which includes signing each other’s release forms and taking ID photos for our records.

“Can I get you anything?” Tony asks as I strip near the desk in the corner.

“I forgot my water bottle,” I groan, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it onto the chair next to me. My bra joins it seconds later.

“I’ve got extras.” He places a bottle on the desk next to me.

Four years in, two of which have included working with co-performers, and it still feels bizarre to change in front of a person who’s going to see me naked in five or ten minutes anyway.

The lingerie I chose is easy to pull off so that, when the time comes, it won’t require us to pause or cut anything from filming. When I’m finished, I turn to face my co-star whose back is still turned.

“Ready?” I ask. He’s still fully clothed.

Tony turns and grins, his eyes freely roving my body. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice his own sharp intake of breath.

This part, I like. I may be a bigger woman, but my ability to make a man stare in awe is a power I’ll never take for granted.

“Let’s get to work.” He removes everything except his boxers, so quickly I barely have time to register his movements.

Before beginning, we each take a couple of selfies for social media–another basic requirement, though not for legality or safety. Marketing is a huge part of the job. We place our phones in their tripods and angle them so that neither will pick up the other, while still getting as much of the room as possible. It’s always best to get multiple angles, not just for variety, but in case one phone or camera fails.

There’s no intro into the scene, no scenario to set up. It saves me from having to act, which is something I’ve never been good at. Some adult performers lean into the ridiculous, bad acting, but I haven’t quite reached that level of confidence.

Tony stands in front of one of the cameras, far enough away to be seen from the shins up. I sink to my knees, the carpet rough on my skin. I’ve got to start using a pillow or even a couple of towels for a cushion. My knees hate this position, but it gives a great angle for the viewer. Tony’s eyes meet mine and he brushes a hand down my cheek before gripping my chin. We keep eye contact for another moment before he speaks.

“Get to work.” It’s an order, but his voice is soft and gentle.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I slowly lower his boxers. His cock, thick and curved slightly upward, falls out and I lick my lips as my eyes drop to stare. The act is only half for the cameras. I’ve been looking forward to this.

Tony uses the hand opposite the camera to grip my hair gently and guide me forward. Swirling my tongue across the tip brings forth a moan from Tony’s throat. Taking him into my mouth pulls another from him. I smile around his cock and move my head, using my hand to stroke in time.

He allows me to set the pace, his grip light in my hair. I bob back and forth and my free hand finds his thigh to steady myself. Every few pumps, he pulls me forward, forcing me to take him down my throat as far as I can, but he lets go almost immediately each time.

Before long, my face is a mess. Tears have caused streaks of mascara to make black paths down my cheeks and there’s a fair bit of mucus and saliva covering my chin and his cock. Tony glances at his phone, the one nearest to us, to gauge the time we’ve been filming. Judging that we’ve been in this position long enough, he pulls me off and I gasp for air. Tony bends and his lips find mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth.

“Get on the bed,” he orders with a growl.

Tony removes his boxers completely, kicking them away. He moves the tripod while I slowly stand. I crawl onto the bed and he lands a firm smack on my ass, making me giggle. I flop onto my back, lying sideways across the bed for the sake of the cameras. His hand grazes my skin before he crosses the bed and rounds the corner.

Tony climbs up and reaches for the waistband of my panties. He slides them down while I lift my ass up to help and then tosses them toward one of the cameras, just missing it. The bed shifts with his weight as he settles between my legs, hands going to the backs of my knees to lift them. He shifts so that the camera behind him has the perfect angle. My eyes flutter closed and I moan as he slides inside me.

I love the stretch. One of the best things about porn is the size of the dicks I get to fuck. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I hadn’t realized until working with other creatorsthat I even had that preference. None of my partners outside of the industry had been well-endowed, so I wasn’t exposed to it until then. Turns out I'm a size queen.

While Tony continues to fill me, he pulls down one cup of my bra to bare my tit and lowers his mouth to my nipple. I raise my far hand to grip his hair and moan again as he fully seats himself within me.

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