As much as possible, I'd worked to forget the past. And so for the last several years I'd been trying to live my life in the now. Unfortunately, it was not much of a life. I'd become mostly an island. I'd become self-contained. I reached out to others as infrequently as I needed to. I viewed change as my enemy.

Ian Fleming wrote: "Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action."

For me, the enemy was anything that forced me to remember. Men made me remember and for a long time I'd tried to have little interaction with any.

But then a while back, I briefly overheard two young women about my daughter's age talking about blowjobs and the problem of gagging while giving them. That same week while sitting in a waiting room, I picked up a women's magazine and it just happened to open to an article about size and sex. Then, days later by an odd bit of chance, I came across an old Word document, a journal of sorts I had kept some ten or twenty years ago, and there were a few scattered places where I'd expressed my thoughts about men's erections.

And though I'd settled into an uneasy détente with memories of my past, the enemy, this confluence of events, caused me to reminisce, manifesting in my occasionally vague, but mostly precise memories about guys and their role in my life.

But, this time, it was guys and their sizes.

Not sure what that was about, but there it was.

I gave my first blowjob more years ago than I care to remember. I was so naïve that my boyfriend had to explain to me there was just a bit more to it than blowing on his dick. I thought I loved him and that I'd found Mr. Right. I wanted to please him. He taught me some more things to do with my hands, mouth and tongue. It made me feel more mature to learn how to give a better blowjob so I was a motivated student.

The next guy I blew seemed to me to be much bigger than that first guy (who, as it turned out, was not Mr. Right), but it was more than a year later and I might have misremembered the first guy. After him there were two other men who were briefly sexual partners, but we didn't have oral sex. OK, to be honest we didn't have much oral sex. I have no recollection of what sizes their cocks were. In fact, I have little recollection of almost anything about them.

Not long thereafter, I met my to-be-husband and in short order we were married. He seemed to be even bigger than that second guy. He told me that I was beautiful and that he loved making love with me. He looked to be the perfect man and if he was actually bigger than the others it didn't seem to be a problem for me. As far as I was concerned, if he was satisfied I was satisfied.

Fewer than five years into the marriage I don't think either of us was satisfied. The fun had gone, the sex had pretty much gone and I later learned in many ways my husband had gone too. And so it was, ten or fifteen years later, I was a divorcée. I was in therapy and considering whether I even wanted to start dating again - ever.

Juggling a job, a child, aging parents, a house and a philandering husband took its toll. I couldn't find time to exercise and I'd lost interest in it. (I sometimes wondered if there was a cause-and-effect relationship between the two, but I never did figure out in my situation which was which.) In any event, I gained a bit of weight - more than "a bit" to be honest. Wrinkles appeared where they'd never been and even more to my chagrin it seemed that gravity began to have an effect on some of my body parts.

Once my lawyer, in negotiations with my ex's lawyer, explained that the divorce was nearly a sure thing, I hit bottom. I couldn't get out of bed for almost a week. I internalized the whole thing. Even though my husband admitted to much of the womanizing he'd been doing for years, I bought into the feeling that the demise of the marriage had been my fault.

Anti-depressants helped after a while. So did counseling. And some months later as I found the counseling had begun to make me perceive what had happened more clearly, I began slowly to feel better. Eventually I actually saw the whole event as an opportunity. (Glass half-full...)

After a reasonable time for grieving, I began an assiduous modification of me: I worked out religiously and rigorously. I diligently watched what I ate. To lower my stress levels, I reduced my hours at work and even pampered myself occasionally.

It took some time, but I felt that I had begun to rejoin the human race. Maybe I could let go of the crap of the past and not let it control my present.

That was a good sign.

One evening recently I was at a local watering hole with two close friends. The alcohol seemed to loosen our lips. Somehow one thing led to another and the discussion moved into penis size in general. But more specifically, erection size. After some immature and inappropriate - but nevertheless occasionally hilarious - back and forth about men and their equipment (I know, it's au courant to say "their junk", but that seems so crude to me.) we had pretty much exhausted the pros and cons, the ins and outs and the ups and downs of dicks.

My extremely limited intimate experience with men and that small, but occasional, nagging feeling that I'd missed something in my youth, combined to put a dampener temporarily on my evening. I mostly just listened to my girlfriends chatting. Eventually, when the topic returned to size though I perked up. I felt that, limited as my experience was, the few erections with which I had been intimately involved still seemed to be relatively broad ranging: They must have doubled in length from the shortest to the longest. As odd as it may have seemed at the time, it helped to boost my confidence and I reengaged with my friends.

The discussion topic moved to vaginal vs. clitoral orgasms, with a difference of opinion among our trio.

It was then that my friend Shelly revealed that she'd recently made a private porn video. Lucy and I were stunned, although it took me longer than Lucy to get over the shock.

"Porn? Shelly, really? Porn?" I almost cried, aghast.

Shelly nodded with a rather smug smile.

"You mean you had sex with some guy and you were recorded on video? Some guy you didn't know?" I followed up. "And someone was going to sell that video?"

Shelly nodded again.

"What do you mean by 'private'?" said Lucy.

Shelly explained that she had met a man who was in the adult entertainment industry and that he'd tapped a relatively large market of wealthy people who would pay for personalized porn made just for them. These folks, even with their money and the ability to purchase almost anything, still enjoyed watching porn. But given their resources they were more than willing to pay to get their porn their way. And, since most porn devotees tire of their porn regularly, his company had a great deal of lucrative repeat business.

"So what did you have to do?" said Lucy.

The thought of Shelly doing porn still had me flummoxed; I literally couldn't speak.

Shelly went on to tell us about her experience. It turned out she actually had done two videos for ElegantX. Apparently, the person who ordered the video liked her first one so much, he or she requested another. In the first one she basically had sex with one guy after another, five in all. There was a little oral but mostly it was screwing.

Lucy and I asked lots of questions, but Shelly was reluctant and remained vague. It seemed she felt we might think less of her.

Then she told us about the second video which was more "intense" as she put it. It included blowjobs and some pretty aggressive fucking. But she was informed about it all beforehand and still decided to do it. In addition, if things got too uncomfortable for her during the shoot she could always say "That's enough."

When we asked about how much she was paid, again she was vague. Still, it sounded like she was well-compensated; she also told us that she'd gladly do it again.

Apparently the "stars" have their pictures taken and they make a short video introducing themselves. After that the buyers view their information and it's up to them to request that person and what they want in the video. The star then has the option to do it or not. There is some room for negotiation, but it's limited.

Now, Shelly is pretty much regular looking. She's in her early forties and she's height-weight proportionate. She's not extremely pretty, but neither is she unattractive. When she gets ready to go out and puts herself together she attracts her share of eyeballs, at least from the over 35 crowd.

In the course of her elucidation, we learned some of the details. We prodded her for even more and she provided a few.

I must admit that I was horrified by the whole thing and what she did. Yet I was also turned on. In fact, I had a small urge to shove one of my hands between my legs, sure that I would have an immediate and probably embarrassing climax right there at our table. A part of me tried to force myself to stop feeling excited as another part pledged to analyze my confused reactions later with a clear, alcohol-free head.

It surprised me that Shelly was so casual about it. After she reiterated that she was looking forward to the next time ElegantX contacted her, Lucy admitted some appeal at making one herself, although there was a bit of hesitation because of her figure and its excess avoirdupois. She doubted anyone would want to pay for a video of her having sex. Shelly explained that many of the actresses and actors were not necessarily people with perfect bodies. Some were, but others could certainly do with at least some toning up.

Shelly then said to me, "Rin, to tell you the truth, I never thought you could lose that weight you'd been carrying since your separation. But now you've gotten incredibly fit. You're so slim and toned; you look just like your daughter."

I thanked her for the accolades. The confidence-boosting accolades.

"However..."

"Why did I know that a 'however ' was coming," I said.

"Yes, well... However, I also think it's unfair that even though you lost all that weight and look like you could be in a swimsuit catalog, your boobs seemed to have stayed the same. You didn't have any surgery you didn't tell us about, did you? Or have you moved to push-up bras?"

And so the evening went. A bunch of self-proclaimed "young middle-aged" women talking about our sex lives - what there were of them anyway - and our careers - same thing as our sex lives - and sundry other personal and really quite boring (to anyone else) topics.

At home later that evening I went to the company's website and looked at the overview pages. They were classy and seemed to live up to its "elegant" moniker. I could see how a person of means might find the site intriguing.

When I was done reviewing their website, I remembered that I had made a pledge to myself to analyze my reaction to Shelly's new "gig economy" profession, but all I could think about was sex with a stranger.

A zipless fuck, as it were. (Thanks to Erica Jong for that infamous term.)

In fact, before going to sleep that night I took a hot bath during which I lost count of how many times I got myself off. Knowing the difficulty some of my friends had climaxing, I briefly considered how fortunate I was to have almost no difficulty - again and again!

The very next day I spoke to Shelly and got the name of her ElegantX contact. As soon as I hung up with Shelly, I called ElegantX, feeling just a little tingle of excitement. I spoke with a pleasant-sounding woman who asked me a lot of probing questions. The following week I went in to interview with a woman named Janice. We discussed vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, semen, women-on-women, multiple-men... The list went on. It was somewhat shocking to me, but I understood the reasons why she asked. She also asked if I watched much porn. When I told her I never really had, she recommended that I watch some and gave me a list of suggested sites.

As I was leaving the interview Janice gave me some materials to read over as well as a contract. There was no commitment on either side, but I admit that the whole thing was exciting.

In short order I sent the contract to my lawyer and asked him to review it. A few days later he told me it was a well-thought-out document. It lay a large burden for privacy on the company and especially its clients. If they were ever to distribute any of their purchases or even permit any sort of public showing, they'd be liable for damages in amounts that would considerably affect their presumably great wealth. This reassured me, as one of my many concerns was that this private chronicle of me involved in sexual activity with a complete stranger would become public.

Next, I met with my therapist who naturally focused on my motivation for this out-of-character behavior. Once she helped me to dismiss any concerns about self-worth I felt pretty good about doing a video.

My finances also played a role in my decision-making. The monetary aspect of doing this was not lost on me. If I chose to do it, the video would net me quite a bit more than I made in a month at my job - even if I went back to full-time.

Another night of drinks with Shelly provided the opportunity for me to learn more from her experience, now that I had a better idea of what questions to ask.

Deciding that at the very least it would be an adventure. After all those years of my loveless and sexless marriage I had no idea how much I might be attractive to the opposite sex. Most men, from my experience at least, tended to like younger women with smooth skin, vibrant hair, ridiculously large breasts and a smattering of youthful naiveté. Well, I was not that woman. On the other hand, I figured I must have something intangible to offer along with my newly fit figure. Men looked at me when I walked into a room.

But then again, men look at every woman.

All of this apparently went into the mix and essentially made up my mind for me: I was going to throw my hat in the ring and see if I had what it takes to be a (private) porn star!

A date was set.

While sitting at their offices, waiting for my appointment to go in for my profile shots, I felt a confused range of emotions from "Rin, what the hell are you doing?" all the way to "This is so fucking hot, if someone touched my skin right now I'd shoot off like a rocket."

A well-dressed mature gentleman showed me into a bright and clean dressing room with two lovely and fragrant bouquets in it. Clara, a make-up person/hairstylist began to work on me. She was friendly and just chatting with her helped to put me at ease.

"If you had told me I'd be doing this a month ago, I would have laughed out loud in your face," I told her.

She assured me that what I was feeling was common for all the women she'd worked with. I wanted to ask how many that was, but I kind of figured it was none of my business. After all, they had asked me to create a profile: they must have seen something in me, some way that I could make them - and me - money.

When Clara was through I studied myself in the mirror. Damn, I thought to myself, I looked fine. Not bad for a woman my age. In fact, not bad even for one quite a bit younger!

It's amazing what a professional make-up person can do for one's appearance - and ego.

Ten minutes later I was sitting at an ornate table on an elegant set, a lavalier microphone clipped to my jacket and two camera people focusing on me. An interviewer sat facing me, but with no camera on her. I was asked questions about nearly everything especially personal sexual topics. Some things were funny. Other things showed some of my vulnerabilities. But I also had the opportunity to come across as a strong, kind, sexy and intelligent woman.

At least I hoped so.

The second part had me in my bra and panties holding a six- or seven-inch dildo. I put a condom on the dildo and then licked it for a while, emulating a bit of a blowjob. Next, I put the dildo inside me and played with myself for a brief time. It was exciting, but I didn't climax. I think it was mostly a matter of the lights and the crew.

Then I was on my way back to my place. They had told me that they'd call "when someone was interested." I appreciated the phrasing: It was much better than "if someone was interested."

When I reflected on the day before going to bed I was surprised at how good I felt and how hot I was feeling. Another round of self-gratification ensued. Damn! How horny had I become.

A week later I'd mostly pushed the whole thing out of my mind. I was busy at work and I had to meet with a contractor to have some work done on my bathroom cabinets and floor.

Life went on.

Three weeks later I was surprised to get a call from another woman at ElegantX. Her name was Nanette and she told me that they had a client who had seen my promotional materials and was interested enough to want me to do a video. She wouldn't discuss any of the details over the phone, but just the thought of actually doing it suddenly made it all very exciting again. And very real.

When I went in I met with Nanette. She explained that the client wanted to see me in a two-scene video and that generally a scene was fifteen to twenty minutes when edited. She ran through the scenario. It was a little surprising, but just talking about it still made me wet. I agreed on the spot.

The next week I was at their studio early in the morning for my one-day shoot. Clara carefully did my make-up and hair. And even though I'd just had a wax, she checked me all over just to be sure.

They generally liked to do scenes with more than two people early in the day I was told. They require more logistical resources and it was easier on everyone if they were completed by early afternoon. Unfortunately, there had been some coordination problems and the man-woman scene was to be shot first.

After putting my hair up in a fancy do, they dressed me in some lovely lingerie, a garter belt and stockings and quite high heels, plus a gorgeous multi-strand pearl and gold choker and matching earrings. Before I had a chance to think about it, I was on a set with a leather sofa, an actual (gas) fireplace and the tastefully arrayed remnants of what appeared to be a seduction meal. The dress I'd supposedly been wearing was draped over an arm of the sofa.

As I waited for my "co-star" to appear the whole thing suddenly became even more real to me: I was going to have sex with an absolute stranger. I hadn't had sex with anyone in years. What the hell was I thinking?

Clearly, this was no time to have doubts. Instead, I started to worry. I began thinking about how I smelled, what my hair really looked like, what my breath was like, if my eyes were puffy and dozens of other things large and small. Then it occurred to me: What if I'm really bad in bed? Or even worse: What if I look stupid while making love?

Fortunately I didn't have time to dwell on my faults, real or imagined. The next thing I knew, I was introduced to a nice-looking man named Jack dressed in a formal evening wear. He was going to have sex with me in front of a crew of what I thought was five or six people plus the director.

For the next few moments I found myself in an out-of-the-body experience. My psyche was floating above the scene, just watching things being done to and around me, like one of those paintings by Chagall. By the time I returned to being present, Jack had removed my bra four times. The director wanted it to be right. Jack started kissing my breasts. Although my nipples tended often to be somewhat erect, Jack's ministrations had them standing for inspection. The erotic feelings helped to relax me and stimulate me simultaneously. After being told, he then moved down to my pussy.

I was a little surprised at how businesslike everything and everyone was. The director reigned supreme. Whatever he said happened. The crew jumped when he said jump.
If I could just forget that Jack was a stranger and essentially the equivalent of just meeting someone at a bar...

But I couldn't forget that Jack was a stranger. He was a man I'd never seen, I didn't know nor had I any interest in. How strange.

The director told him to open my pussy wide with his hands and to rub my clitoris. This had a natural effect of arousing me further. At least until the director yelled "Cut!" and asked the lights to be changed for a different camera angle.

Jack stopped his movements immediately. I was disappointed sexually at the abrupt interruption, but the whole event was so professional - even bordering on antiseptic - that my state of arousal was beginning to circle the drain.

Once the next "Action!" was called, Jack had been instructed to stay with his head close to my pussy and to bring me to an orgasm manually. The director didn't even ask me about my response. Was I expected to actually have said orgasm? The next ten minutes went the same way: Do this. Don't do that. Go higher. Kiss her there. Stop kissing her.

I wanted to shout a Moses-like: Let my body come!

But this was a business and I was a worker. The director told me that if I had an orgasm, fine. If not, I was supposed to fake it when he told me to.

He needn't have worried. When Jack's tongue just barely touched my lips I had a dynamite orgasm, but when it moved in and rubbed my clitoris I almost lost it. No. I absolutely lost it. I know I let out a mini-scream, but what could I do? I loved orgasms, the more the better.

Eventually the cameras had recorded enough of my pleasure. When the director yelled cut, we were done instantaneously with Jack pleasuring me; it was my turn to pleasure him. I was told to hold his cock and after fondly playing with it for a short while, I was supposed to rub it on my breasts and then to go down on him.

We only had to do the breast rubbing three times and soon I was facing the first new cock I'd seen in at least a decade - and only the fifth or sixth one I'd ever touched. Having a stranger's cock in my mouth for the first time in so many years was less traumatic than I had expected. I'd always had fun giving my ex a blowjob, but after a few years he didn't seem to even want one - from me, at least.

The director told me to kiss my way down Jack's naked body and to lick his hard-on. These instructions I followed to the letter. When I arrived at his crotch I thought I'd lick for a short while and then play with his balls before returning to his cock. No one said to stop so I guess the minor adlib was OK.

As I was tonguing his balls we stopped and the director gave me instructions so that the act would appear sexier on camera. At first it was a little bit of a blow to my ego ("What? You don't think I know how to arouse a cock?"), but when he explained about the camera and the lights it made some sense to me.

Even though I hadn't had a sexual partner in so long, some of my girlfriends candidly admitted to me that their significant others took medication for assistance getting and/or keeping erections. So imagine my surprise to see how Jack seemed to keep his hard-on almost all morning. With all the stops and starts it seemed particularly impressive.

Regardless, back in Jack's crotch I kept at licking him until I saw and tasted quite a bit of pre-seminal fluid dripping from his cock's head. The director gave me instructions to lick the stuff and let a string of it hang between Jack's cock's head and my lips and/or tongue.

This was all new to me. When my ex and I used to have sex it was all about getting to orgasm, not about putting on a show. Still, it was kind of fun to see how well I could manipulate a dollop of pre-seminal fluid. The director wanted me to do this at least eight or ten times to get just the right look.

The oral stuff didn't last long after that, though. The director stopped things and they had a readjustment of lights. Clara was suddenly there too for some more make-up work on my face (Apparently, the pre-seminal licking had messed up my lip gloss.)

When we started again, the director told Jack to move me on my back on the sofa and to get into position to enter me.

This was a big moment for me. Putting a cock in my mouth didn't seem to be as a big deal, really. Having an erect penis enter my vagina seemed to be, though. It was weird because looking at a hard-on (the few I'd actually looked at in my life), it seemed that putting it in my mouth was much more intimate than putting one in my vagina. But here, on this set with a half-dozen people around us, having this stranger enter me was somehow more life-changing than sucking a cock.

So, Jack was directed to rub my pussy with his cock's head for a while. This had the understandable effect of making me even wetter, if that were even possible. I had expected him to kiss me or at least kiss my breasts, but he was told to stay more upright so that the camera could show his muscled torso as well as my breasts and my crotch.

It made sense, but if he'd been physically closer I might have teased myself into thinking he was someone I had begun dating, someone I desired, and was now going to bed with. Instead, my body was on display along with his cock as he slowly rubbed it up and down, lingering a while on my clitoris.

As we followed the director's guidance, I began to relax and just let what he was doing happen. Generally, I like to be active when love making. (Or at least that's how I remembered it.) This, however, was a far cry from love making, though. This was film making. It was two people ostensibly love making - and when they went through and edited all the footage I expected that's exactly what it would look like.

Letting go allowed me to tune out most of the director's instructions to Jack and just enjoy the feelings. By the time he was told to enter me, I was really looking forward to it, almost needing to have him inside me.

It was so exciting when he finally entered me that I could feel my body doing all the things it was designed to do, things that it hadn't done in too long a time. Everything worked perfectly.

After letting his cock rest in me for just a few seconds, he started to move gently in and out. I recall the director telling him to pull out and then quickly shove his cock back into me. Had I not been so turned on, this might have been a little painful. However, it was such a wonderful feeling to have him inside me, anything he did felt fantastic.

Soon - or so it seemed, but it was probably fifteen or twenty minutes later - he was told to start moving in and out of me more vigorously. The first time he shoved in as far as he could he hit my pubic bone and that triggered my first major - and first ever - on-camera vaginal orgasm. I grabbed his arm because I needed to have more physical contact.

The director started to say something, but it seemed as though he realized that I wasn't acting. I was climaxing. He instructed both camera people to focus on me, one on my upper body and face, the other on the larger scene. I was able to tune all of that out and just laid back, allowing the climax to wash over me. It was the first orgasm I'd had at another's hand in years and I was ready for it.

My body began to tremble as I tightened my grip on Jack's arm. I emitted a few "oohs" and then I remember saying either "Oh God!" or "Damn!" (I hoped it was the latter, but never was sure.) That orgasm was awesome as I let my body respond and enjoy the feeling of a climax.

As I began to come down from the orgasm I opened my eyes, looking up at Jack. I smiled and said some things including the really stupid as well as dated: "Oh wow!" Of course, none of my interjections was acting. It felt like he and I were in bed together and I'd just climaxed.

It felt great.

No, better than great!

I really needed "to get some." Soon.

The director then stirred me from my orgasmic bliss. He told us that Jack was going to climax in my mouth, but that first they wanted to have me suck his cock while he sat on the sofa. I needed to get down on the floor on my knees in front of his wide-spread legs.

The lighting and cameras had to be repositioned so we took a few minute break as the set was changed. I was given a big terry robe and had a chair to sit on as they got ready for the next set-up. It surprised me a little that neither Jack nor I spoke to anyone. We just sat there and when the set was ready we were placed as we were told.

It did nothing to make me feel like "the talent." Instead, it showed me precisely what my value to ElegantX was. Hmm.

One of the set people, suddenly had a tube of something as Jack played with himself to get hard again. Once he was ready, she applied the stuff in the tube to his cock. If I hadn't seen it, I'd have thought that it was still my vaginal juices on him.

The director positioned me on the floor and I started to lick Jack's hard-on. The taste was a little weird, kind of sweet and fruity but not in a terribly good way. Soon my saliva combined with the lube and my juices still there from earlier; the feel of his cock in my mouth began to excite me in a way I'd not experienced in years.

The director gave me explicit instructions: How slow or fast to move up and down with my tongue, when to use my lips, how far to put his cock into my mouth and how to jerk him off. I was surprised by how - even with all the directions - my mouth was loving having that cock in and around it. I made a mental note: Do this again soon!

Eventually, it was time for Jack to ejaculate.

Of course I knew the preferred word was come; I made a mental note to try to use more jargon.

I was told that Jack was going to stand up directly in front of me on my knees and he would come. I was supposed to open my mouth wide and extend my tongue. ("Outward! Not down! You want to catch his cum and not let any of it fall out.")

This is where I should have paid more attention to the videos. The director told me that once he was done shooting, I was not to swallow, but keep the cum in my mouth. Then I was told to carefully suck any more cum from his cock. Once I had all of it in my mouth, I was told to mix it a little with saliva and to make it as thick as possible. Then I was to open my mouth, swish it around with my tongue, push it to my lips and then suck it all back into my mouth. After a few times, then I was to swallow. When I was done I was to smile at the camera and lick his cock.

The director said, "Act like his cock and his cum are the most beautiful and delicious things in the world."

This was not unexpected but having been told this in such a clinical manner seemed to remove any of the sexiness of it. Still, I was not here to feel anything. I was supposed to make the film the client and hence the director told me to make.

We were moved into position and, after some minor adjustments to my hair, I found myself once again staring at Jack's cock. Taking it into my hands and rubbing it around my lips was sexy. After a few moments I actually forgot about being on a set. I was solely focused on that pretty cock.

Clinical or not, I was going to make that damn hard-on as excited as possible.

As I was getting more involved with his cock, I remembered the director telling me that the more excited Jack was the more he'd shoot. I vaguely remembered that from back in the day.

It also occurred to me that Jack's cock might have been a little smaller than my ex's cock. But still I had very little to compare it to. Especially for the last decade or more!

Jack and I did what we were told. I brought him into my mouth a little further than the director said and he stopped me. I was not supposed to bring him too far into my mouth yet.

OK. Whatever the client wants, right?

I continued to suck, fondle and make love to Jack's cock, ball sac and each ball for at least a half-hour in total. When the director said it was time, we moved: I, kneeling on the floor. Jack, standing directly in front of me. For this "cum shot" another camera was brought in. One camera was next right next to my head and little higher than it. Another camera was located just next to Jack's hip on the other side, shooting at my face, and a third was almost directly in front of Jack's face looking down.

The addition of another camera caused a bit of new work for the sound woman. The boom operator was to get the sounds Jack made and a mic on the new camera was to record the sounds I made. It took a bit of extra work, but soon enough we began again.

We rehearsed what I was supposed to do a little. When Jack felt ready, I actually began to look forward to his orgasm. I asked if I could play with myself and they said it was OK as long as I did what I was supposed to do with Jack's cock and semen.

Then the biggest surprise of the day so far happened: They brought in another guy. I was supposed to suck both of their cocks. But not together. I was supposed to suck one, have him come. Then they'd set up everything again with the other guy (whose name was Baron) and shoot it again.

Before I knew it, Baron was as naked as Jack and just as erect. Then it struck me that from the waist down, Baron looked just like Jack. Their pubic hair had been trimmed the same, their partly-still-dressed attire was the same. Even their cocks looked almost the same.

I asked the director about this and he explained that given my inexperience with porn sex - as opposed to real sex - I might not get Jack's climax right. They were worried that I might gag, cough, let cum spill off my tongue or out of my mouth and the biggest fear was that I wouldn't look like I was enjoying playing with the cum or that even if I did I might not look very sexy doing it. And so, rather than have me experiment on another cock just to learn, if I didn't screw it up, they'd have two sets of cock climaxes to edit as they pleased.

This too made sense to me. Let's face it, Rin, I told myself: When my ex and I had sex the goal was orgasm, not playing with cum. So, yeah, I had no experience doing it. I'd never had any problem with it. The taste was OK. And really it was just a teaspoon or so, right? When he came, I swallowed.

And I'd done it enough times to know how to swallow without the cum sticking in or tickling my throat. That's what can cause a gag. But I was a sort-of seasoned amateur. I was comfortable with it. No biggie.

Now I was suddenly called upon to do porn sex. And from what I'd observed all morning, it truly is a very different kind of sex.

I looked at the two guys standing nearby: Baron directly in front of my, lubed up just like Jack and Jack standing just a few feet away, ready to exchange places with Baron one way or another.

The director called "Action" and I started to lick Baron's cock as he grabbed it with his hand and slowly pulled it back and forth. Soon his slit filled with a lot of pre-seminal fluid and I tried to play with that as I'd been instructed earlier. It worked for a little while, but as Baron's motion got more rapid I had to just sit there and lick a little because most of the fluid went flying.

Baron indicated that he was about to come and I did as I'd been told: I opened my mouth wide and extended my tongue - "out, not down." A moment later he let off a big volley of rapid cum shots into the back of my mouth. I could suddenly smell and taste the cum. I'd almost forgotten it, but it all came back in a flash. By the time Baron was shooting the last of his ejaculations I realized that I'd had an orgasm too.

Apparently, I'd begun making moans while he was jerking himself and when he finally came it just set me off. Fortunately, I was slightly below the level of his cock so all of his cum stayed where it was supposed to.

When he was done, I closed my mouth and sucked his cock, getting more of the white stuff still in his plumbing. When his cock left my mouth, I tried to determine how much cum I had and where it was in my mouth. I remembered clearly what the director had told me and decided I was going to have fun with it.

It felt rather thick and I didn't think it needed to be mixed with much saliva so I moved it just a little from the sides of my mouth and got it on my tongue. Once there I opened my mouth and showed the camera, wiggling my tongue slowly and smiling. After a bit of that, I closed my mouth to regroup the thick cum and pressed it with my tongue forward as I opened my mouth to show it to the camera again.

I did this a few more times. Each time I thought about the kind of smile I used and tried to vary it. None of the variations felt like it was too successful. I made a mental note to try to learn what goes through men's minds when they look at a woman showing off semen and smiling.

At that moment, of course, there was no place that I could think of to go to learn such information. Later, I told myself. Not now.

When my brief mental aside ended, I realized that there was no one making a sound on the set. All eyes were apparently on my mouth.

So I did one last press of cum from my tongue to my lower lip and let it just sit there for a moment. Then I closed my mouth and gulped the stuff down. Once it was down my throat I looked directly at the camera next to my head and smiled, licking my lips slowly and (I hoped) sensuously.

After a few moments, the director yelled "cut" and suddenly every member of the crew started doing things: moving cameras, adjusting lights, taking skin tone measurements of Jack's abdomen and such.

Baron started to walk away but I grabbed (gently) his now-soft penis and brought it to my lips, trying to suck a little more of his semen out of it.

"You were amazing," Baron said.

I asked him what he meant and he told me that I'd been moaning and I looked like I was coming when he was shooting. I told him that it wasn't acting and that I had had an orgasm, maybe two. He nodded and said, "Cool!" and he was shuffled away as they got set up to do the same thing again but with Jack.

The director asked how many other cum-play videos I'd been in and I told him that this was my first ever porn shoot. He just looked at me quizzically and returned to managing the change-over from Baron to Jack.

Clara suddenly appeared and put some pins in my hair. Then she redid my make-up as well as my lip liner.

She said to me, "You did an amazing job with all of Baron's cum. You didn't lose a drop. You didn't gag. You made it look like a million bucks. Good job."

I thanked her but explained that I had no idea what I was doing and just followed the director's orders. She too looked at me for a second and again told me I'd done well.

After getting off my knees for a moment and doing a little stretch, I reassumed the position when the director ordered the next shoot to begin.

Not surprisingly, it was pretty much the same with Jack as it had been with Baron. The one thing that was surprising, however, was that he seemed to ejaculate that same number of times as Baron, but much more slowly and when I closed my mouth it held a larger quantity of cum.

I did all the same things with Jack's cum I'd done with Baron's, testing to see if there were some additional movements or actions I could do to enhance what I'd done previously.

Then a minor crisis happened: One of the lights was having an intermittent problem and they were sure that changing a circuit would fix it.

I was told to keep Jack's cum in my mouth and not to move it around too much so it would look the way it had when we stopped.

This was again new for me. As I had just learned, playing with semen is kind of straightforward. The director had given me instructions and I followed them. And as I was told, I tried to "act like his cock and his cum are the most beautiful and delicious things in the world."

Well, it was one thing for me to play with the cum, but just to hold cum in your mouth for several minutes while the crew was taking care of business... That was quite different. Not knowing how long it would take, I decided to further familiarize myself with the stuff.
Moving it around on my tongue I tried to really get into the taste. It seemed to me that playing with it was an integral part of porn, or at least some porn, so why not take the opportunity to do some more of it. I rolled it over my tongue. I let it fall to the bottom of my mouth. I opened my mouth and tried to see what air would do to the taste.

It seemed the more I got into the taste, the sweeter it became. That was kind of cool. I was just settling down to enjoy some other aspects of a mouthful of cum when the crew was done and the director called for action.

As directed I again moved it around on my tongue and on my lips, then licking it off of them. When the shoot was coming to an end, I did the same thing on camera that I'd done with Baron after the shooting ended. I grabbed it and tried to squeeze it so I could get a little more cum to lick off. I had never really thought about it, but I really enjoyed playing with and tasting the cum from the two guys.

Improvising a bit and considering what the viewer might get excited by, before swallowing I pressed the cum to my lower lip again and let it just start to drool down my chin. Before it got far, though, I sucked it back up. I did this a few times and then swallowed it, smiling at the camera from ear to ear.

As soon as the director yelled "cut," the whole set became a beehive of activity again as the fireplace was shut off, the background was removed and the couch was carefully wiped and cleaned of any errant sexual fluids. Clara appeared next to me and we walked back to the dressing room.

"I have to admit, Clara, that was one of the most exciting experiences of my life," I told her.

She told me that everyone was impressed with my performance and that things rarely impressed anyone there. I explained that, except for concentrating on how I played with the cum from the guys, it was all mostly just doing what came naturally. Of course, I followed the director's instructions, but everything else I'd done had just been instinct.

An aide came in with a tray laden with a variety of small sandwiches and salads as well as water and coffee. Clara, the aide and I chatted for a bit and then they were both requested for something. Before she left, Clara showed me the shower and pointed to another outfit I was supposed to put on for the afternoon's shoot. It consisted of a short sleeve sport or golf shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, short white athletic ankle socks and a pair running shoes. On an adjacent hanger was a sports bra and functional white cotton panties as well as a baseball style cap.

Maybe the afternoon shoot was going to take place at a campsite. I didn't worry too much about it; I'd find out soon enough.

While in the shower I considered the morning's session. It had sort of a story line that began right after a beautiful candlelight dinner, a seduction on a large leather sofa and finally a fucking session ending with me savoring the taste of the cum from my "co-star" - as well as that of his part-of-the-body double.

The aide came back and told me that it'd be another half-hour before the afternoon session and that I might want to take the opportunity to relax and even to take a quick nap on the dressing room's couch.

I did as was suggested and after my shower I conked out for a dreamless but restful nap. When I woke up ten minutes later, I was alone and in my mind I could still see each of the cocks staring me in the face.

Still dressed in my bathrobe I continued thinking about what I had done that day so far, when Clara returned. She proceeded to remove all of my make-up. When I asked about why, she explained that I'd be getting a good deal of cum on my face. The best cover-up for cum on the face is this specific kind of theatrical foundation. She applied it to my face, put on just a light bit of theatrical eyeliner and a little bit of lipstick and I was apparently good to go.

Clara helped me on with the outfit and I looked at myself in the mirror. There was nothing I could find sexy in what I was wearing. Nevertheless, this was what the client wanted.

Just as the aide returned to escort me to another stage, Clara reminded me to brush my teeth: "It's important to have nothing that's not cum seen in your mouth." I could understand that. So I brushed and then flossed. For good measure I even brushed again.

Moments later, the aide and I walked to another studio. We came in from behind the backdrop and I still had no idea where the action was supposed to take place. I made a mental note that if I ever did this again, I'd ask to know more about the shoot before going in.

As we walked around to the front of the set, I became aware of the sound of a shower. But it was not that of a home bathroom shower. Instead, it appeared to have an echo that reminded me of a high school or college gym locker room with many showers running at once.

I looked at the backdrop and it gave no hint to the set: It was just a tightly stretched cloth background. So, I thought, they were doing something that required "green screen"?

Hmm.

But when I turned to look at the set it all became clear to me. It actually was a gym locker room and, with the row of urinals on one side wall, a men's gym locker room. Suddenly the "costume" made sense.

There were three rows of lockers and between each was a long low bench bolted to the floor. They even had some kind of mist machine that made it look like some moisture from the showers pervaded the room.

Clara appeared and gave me a lanyard with a whistle, a stopwatch and some keys attached. She fixed my hair again so that it would look good with the cap or even after removing it. She wished me good luck and turned to leave. Since she seemed to share more information than almost anyone else in the company, I asked her how long the afternoon shoot was supposed to be. She told me that it was scheduled to be two hours, but they expected it to be no more than 60 minutes, 90 minutes tops. I checked the time and figured I'd easily be home in time for dinner.

In one day I was going to earn more than what I made in a month at my regular gig. Not bad for a day's work.

While the crew was busy getting everything ready for the session, the director chatted with me. He began by explaining that their clients asked for a broad range of adult video entertainment. Sometimes they had a narrative, even a minimal one, like the "story" we'd shot that morning. This one was even simpler and, to me at least, not very interesting. I was supposed to be a coach sneaking into the men's locker to meet with one of the athletes. After giving him a blowjob though, the room was to fill with other naked guys, all of whom were to jerk off on my face.

This was my first bukkake. I'd heard about it but could not for the life of me figure out why anyone would want to do it. For a woman getting cum all of your face seemed senseless and at the very least demeaning. And for the guys I was kind of baffled. Naturally, I could understand the satisfaction of coming in a woman's mouth, but to just jerk off and come on a woman's face also appeared to be pointless and degrading.

Still, this was what the director wanted me to do. I asked if I was supposed to open my mouth for the rest of the guys to come in, but he said that I was to keep the first guy's cum in my mouth and to play with it during the time the others were coming. If I wanted to lick my lips and around my mouth that was OK while opened my mouth to show the camera the first guy's load, but mostly the emphasis was on the other guys covering my face with cum.

This is why they were paying me, right? I could do this.

As the set appeared to be nearly ready, I closed my eyes to imagine what I'd been instructed to do and what was going to happen. Jeez, is this a far cry from making love or what? It's really not even having sex. Or maybe it is.

I took a deep breath and tried to get my mind in the game.

Another deep breath. Alright, I thought. I was set. I was going to give another blowjob and play with the semen, while at least a dozen guys were going to masturbate onto my face.

A walk in the park, right?

I was still a little unclear on the bukkake aspect so I had a question for the director.

"What do I do each time a guy comes?"

I was instructed to try to face each cock so it would come at my face directly. I wasn't supposed to touch my face with my fingers. Rather, I was to let whatever cum was on my face drip down. That was it.

When I asked about any particular kind of climax or ending, he said that there was not to be anything special. I'd see that the last guy was done and then I was to look around at the guys who'd still be there surrounding me. I was to say "thank you," and smile. Just like they had each given me a gift or some chocolate!

I stared at him and gave him a "Really?" He nodded.

After we started it took about ten or fifteen minutes to get the preliminary action shot. I snuck into the locker room seven or eight times until the director felt the shot was right. Finally, my blowjob guy showed up and after standing up on my toes to kiss him, I continued kissing down his body until I sat down on the bench. With me being about normal height for a woman and the bench considerably lower than an office or dining chair, my mouth was a little lower than his crotch, but pretty perfect for sucking a cock.

We paused for just a moment for one of the camera people to get right next to my face. That was when the director told me to get the guy off quickly so the rest of the guys could "plaster" my face.

Oh, joy.

When I began sucking him he was already hard. Putting his cock in my mouth and wrapping my lips around it had the now-not-terribly-surprising effect of making me really hot. This seemed to come out of nowhere, but I enjoyed the feeling and his cock was hard and felt sexy in my mouth.

As he was obviously getting close to ejaculating I remembered that I wasn't supposed to swallow his cum, that I was to hold it in my mouth and play with it.

I grabbed tightly around his cock and slowly took it into my mouth until my lips were tickled by his pubic hair and my face was flush against his lower abdomen. This had what seemed to be the desired effect of him groaning, on the verge of an orgasm. I pulled back and, with my lips tightly wrapped around the part just past the head and my tongue firmly swabbing away, I grabbed his cock and pulled it to a climax with just three or four firm, slow tugs.

He seemed to come a lot, but I'd kind of lost track of what that meant that day. When he was done, I just mouthed his cock slowly as it diminished in hardness and size. When it seemed time, I let him slip from my lips, but kept the tasty white gooey stuff on the bottom of my mouth.

As I began to move it around, two guys, one on each side, walked up as they were jerking themselves. Almost immediately and at the same time they climaxed on my face. I could feel splotches of cum on my cheeks and one big dollop above one eye. I tried to look up as I opened my mouth to show the ejaculate that was there, but two other guys followed and each also came quickly.

My face must have looked like, well, exactly what it was, a face that was getting a bukkake.

In short order another ten or twelve guys moved into place to duplicate the same process. I was having fun playing with the cum in my mouth, but after a while I needed to open it every so often. This was when a bunch of additional cum found its way into it. I was enjoying the taste and texture and the smell of the special masculine fluid. But I worried that I wasn't doing exactly what the director told me.

Still, I figured they could always ask me to stop but they didn't.

It went like this for maybe an additional eight or ten guys. By the time every one of them had come, it felt like every inch of my face, my neck and my shirt had globs of cum irregularly located all over them. In addition, a patina of the stuff coated me everywhere. Both eyes felt like they were loaded with it, but I was reminded that I was supposed to look around.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes. I felt a bit of cum on my upper and lower eyelids, but nothing I couldn't handle. I turned to look around me. There must have been at least two dozen mostly athletic looking guys standing there, each fondling himself.

Now that was a picture I would have paid for!

As I slowly moved to look the guys in the eyes, I said thank you to each. Well, I tried hard to say thank you - as well as one can say anything with a mouth full of cum. When I had finished I turned back to the camera and licked my lips as my tongue attempted to gather up as much cum as it could.

After a while I'd stopped even thinking of the director's instructions and just savored the sexy naked men that surrounded me along with the additional viscous white syrup I was sucking into my mouth.

Finally I swallowed the semen flooding my mouth and loved the way that big slimy glob felt sliding down my throat. I looked again at the guys and said an additional thank you to each. Trying to obey the director's instructions had tempered my excitement at the oral fun I'd had. I knew I'd had some things resembling orgasms, but I wasn't quite sure how much I'd actually climaxed. Then I realized that I had put both hands into my crotch to keep from touching my face: As sexy as the cum was, it sometimes itched and my first reaction was to scratch it.

And as my hands had been in my crotch I was pretty sure they hadn't been idle. In fact, upon further reflection, I might have been up on some kind of orgasmic cloud the entire time those cocks were painting my face.

When I realized that the crew activity had begun again, I looked around to find out what I was supposed to do next. Seeming to know what I needed before I did, Clara again appeared in front of me - with a hand-held mirror.

"You look so hot," she said and showed me what I looked like.

There was some thick cum dripping down my brow, dripping off one of my eyelids and forming little icicles of cum off my nose and chin. I looked like a whore at a blowjob gangbang. At least that's what I thought one would look like. But upon closer inspection ... I was that whore.

Clara then appeared next to me with a soft warm washcloth. Before had a chance to do anything, I took the first finger of each hand and quickly slid a lot of the cum on both sides of my face into my mouth.

The taste was a little different, but I still enjoyed it.

Gently using the washcloth Clara helped me do a rough job of cleaning myself up, enough to get back to the dressing room without leaving a trail.

I looked at the director, expecting him to berate me for not doing something right. Instead, he just said, "Great job!"

I smiled, not knowing if he was serious.

Then he added, "First time? Really?"

I nodded.

"I hope you get a chance to come back. You really love sucking cock, don't you? You should do a gokkun."

Did I really love sucking cock? I didn't know that I did, but I certainly had enjoyed those cocks that day.

Gokkun was something I'd read about, but I could never imagine actually drinking cum. Would I really do that?

When Clara and I returned to the dressing room, I hopped immediately into the shower. After I dried off and began to get dressed in my street clothes, Clara and I chatted about working for ElegantX. She reiterated that I'd impressed the director.

That was good to know. Even if this was to be a one-time thing, it had been fun. And sexier than hell: I'd received quite a lot of sexual pleasure, more in fact than I had received in years. Maybe there would be a next time, I thought hopefully.

Clara and I said goodbye when an aide came in to walk me out.

The aide asked if I would have a moment to meet with the director. I told her that of course I did and moments later I was sitting in an office across from the director.

He surprised me with some comments (or "notes" as I learned they're called in the biz), although none was negative.

He asked about me: Would I really drink a quantity of cum? He asked if I'd ever done that. My immediate thought was "Are you kidding? Me?" But I decided that that might not have been the most sensitive - or diplomatic - answer. I just told him that I hadn't.

It surprised me that he phrased his question that way. He was the one who'd brought up gokkun, right?

Then he said something that really surprised me.

"Did you purposely deep throat your co-star when you gave him that blowjob?"

I said that I'd never deep throated anyone in my life. But I also said that I wasn't exactly sure what it was.

"When you were getting him to come you took his hard-on all the way in your mouth so that your lips were around the base of his cock. Can you always do that? Does it make you gag?"

I told him that I thought that you were supposed to do that when you gave someone a blowjob and that I assumed I was supposed to do it each time. If the guy pushed himself in all the way I just accepted it.

"And it doesn't cause you to gag or retch?"

"No," I shook my head. "Never. In fact, it feels kind of good when I have my face and nose pressed against a guy's stomach. I can feel how excited it makes them especially when it feels like their hard-ons are far back in my mouth. And I always like it when they come that way too."

He didn't say anything, but just gave me a smile. Then he said, "I look forward to using some of your skills again. Thank you. You did a really great job today."

Twenty minutes later I was on my way home, just like millions of other working women. But most of them had probably not had their faces drenched in a barrage of cum that day!

Several nights later I was sitting with Lucy at Shelly's place. Shelly was asking me questions about my one-day shoot. After answering them as best as I could, Lucy asked her if her experiences were the same as mine.

"It sounds just like mine. But different. Another woman did my make-up. Her name was Veronica. She was nice and seemed to be there whenever I needed something too. The stages sounded like the ones I was on, but of course my scenarios were quite different.

I asked Shelly if she'd met with the director after her shoots and she said that she had not.

"He asked to speak with you? Just the two of you?" I nodded. "About what?"

I told them that the director talked to me briefly about two things. First, I told them that, from what he'd told me, I'd been giving deep throat blowjobs since I began giving blowjobs.

"My husband has been dying for me to learn to do that ever since we started dating," Lucy admitted.

Shelly said, "Yeah, it seems every guy wants it. I can do pretty well with a small cock, but when they get this big..." She held up her two hands, palms facing each other, indicating an indeterminate length "...I just can't do it. I used to try but often I'd gag - or worse. Not a very sexy thing to do in bed."

"From what he told me the guy I did it to was apparently bigger than most," I told them. "My experience is really so limited, I can't say for sure. I know I've always liked it when the guy shoots off and I've got his whole cock in my mouth."

"Men!" Shelly said, shaking her head dismissively, but I thought I saw a bit of something that looked like new-found respect on her face.

"It goes to show you that they just want more," Lucy said. "Even if it's not as good. They always want what's over the next hill." Then she turned to me, "If you can really do that with no problem, you are probably in a small minority of women. And the fact that you willingly or even gladly do it, that's amazing. Still, I'd like to think if I could do it, my husband wouldn't ever look at another woman. But, it's just the way guys are wired."

We sat and discussed men and sex and how insane it all was in some ways.
Shelly then turned to me and asked what the other thing was.

"What other thing?" I said.

"You said, the director talked to you about two things. One was your throat and its commendable abilities. What was the other?"

It surprised me, but I felt myself beginning to blush. Lucy noticed it first.

"You're turning red," she said. "This must be hot."

I hesitated, but they practically begged me.

Finally, I said, "He told me that I acted quite different than most of their other female 'stars' but he didn't elaborate."

"Is that it?" said Shelly, looking anxious. "You didn't act like other 'stars'?"

"No, not exactly. He told me that, at the very end of the shoot, I said, 'I would have preferred tasting all of that cum rather than wearing it.' To which I responded, 'I did?'"

"You did?" said Lucy and Shelly simultaneously.

"He said, 'Not only did you say it, but you said it like you really meant it.' He looked at me more carefully. 'Did you mean it? Would you really want to taste that much splooge? Would you want, say, to drink a glass of cum?'"

"'I guess so', I told him, my orgasm-addled brain assuming that 'splooge' meant semen. 'Why not? That was sexy, but not being able to taste it all was only like a teaser. If I said that earlier, I meant it. I'd much rather have had those guys come in my mouth.'

Shelly and Lucy looked at me, incredulity on both their faces.

The two of them expressed their general feelings about semen. It clearly was not on their lists of favorite things to enjoy. They told me that the few other women they'd ever discussed it with felt that semen was just a necessary and occasionally disgusting part of sex.

"Gee, I don't think so. I thought it was kind of hot," came my response. It was met with another round of questioning looks.

Shelly then said, "Rin, you are one wicked lady. I wonder if telling you about this place has created a monster."

I simply smiled.

Maybe that enemy that forced me to remember parts of my past that I'd prefer to forget, had declared a truce, something bilateral. Maybe that enemy had become an ally. It felt like I might have a future, one with more good feelings and optimism than I'd had in a very long time.

I began to think about and even hoped for another shoot at ElegantX.

I could certainly use the money. And the guys. And the sex. And, if you'll pardon the vernacular, the splooge.