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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE CLOSE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Copyright 2004 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. This
story may be posted/archived to FREE adult access
provided my name, email rache696@yahoo.com and this
notice are included in the message text.
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Selling the Drama
by Rachael Ross (rache696@yahoo.com)
***
An ordinary woman likes to act out in unordinary ways.
(M+/F, prost)
***
I'd taken a job with Paramount's script department,
selling the drama. It was mundane, secretarial at the
core and offered little in the way of challenge or job
satisfaction. But I needed work and like Elmore said,
what's the point of living in LA if you ain't in the
movie business?
I was shopping a screenplay called `Dying To Meet You'
in my free time, and trying to write another one. But
it was tough going. I was living in a little flat just
off Sunset, behind a massage parlor, with a liquor
store on one side, and an adult bookstore on the other.
I was upstairs, below me lived a couple prostitutes,
Miranda and Crystal. It wasn't great for my creativity,
at least as I envisioned it.
Dying was a romantic comedy, about a guy who fakes
having cancer so the Make A Wish people will get him a
date with a beautiful actress. Along the way he meets a
boy who really is dying, but teaches the guy about
living. Of course he meets a girl too, the one who is
trying to get his wish fulfilled, even though she
thinks he could do better for himself... By the end of
the movie the guy realizes how shallow he is, how much
he loves the ordinary girl, and how if he really did
have a single last wish, it wouldn't be to meet some
phony actress. You get the idea.
My current project was along similar lines, tentatively
called `Keep the Change' about a rather ordinary
teenage girl who finds a lamp in the back of a taxi
while visiting New York. Of course, there is a genie in
the bottle and she gets just one wish. The girl
suddenly becomes as beautiful as she always wanted to
be (Sandra Bullock), but it will only last for one
year, unless she can return the genie and his bottle to
their rightful owner... It is the old metaphoric
journey from adolescence to adulthood and along the way
she meets and learns from various people. It's cute,
nothing too heavy.
Unfortunately, my surroundings did not conspire to help
me write cute things. I found myself staring out my
window more and more, leaving it open despite the heat,
just so I could watch the people below me. I'd sit in a
plain white tank-top that was too big, a reminder of my
old boyfriend, and a pair of cut-off shorts, sweating
and ignoring my laptop while I sipped iced tea, or
kool-aid, or a beer once in awhile.
My apartment was sparse, at best. Mostly I decorated it
with pictures ripped from old magazines. One whole wall
was a collage, and to me it was a genuine piece of art,
my inspiration, my conscience, my personal wailing
wall. It had pictures from everything, National
Geographic, Cosmopolitan, Life, Time, Playboy,
Seventeen, newspapers, brochures, it didn't matter. I
had a picture of Goebbles next to a picture of the
Pope, his face superimposed on the vagina I'd torn from
an old Hustler I'd found. I had landscapes, animals,
sunsets, flowers, death, life, birth, abortion,
portraits, landscapes, advertisements, paintings...But
no words, not a single one. That was my job.
I was just 22 then, single white female, seeking...
something. I had a telephone, but no television. I had
a little single burner stove and a mini-fridge. I had a
little MD player and a goldfish bowl, and books.
Thousands of them. I slept and ate and danced on my
futon, and my only chair was a throwaway from the
salvation army, a folding metal thing, painted grey. I
felt like a monk and I had to get out.
Down on the street there was life, at least. Or the
semblance of it. Vampires and night crawlers, stalking
something to fill the holes inside. There were the
homeless and the prostitutes and the addicts and the
dealers. The valley boys cruising the boulevard in
their dad's car, looking for a cheap thrill. Cops
ignoring everything.
I'd changed my clothes, putting on a pair of white
denim jeans, some pink snake-skin boots, and a pink
halter. I had my long black hair pulled back, some pink
lipstick, but no other makeup. No jewelry but the rings
in my nipples, perched on my petite breasts and hidden
as two vague lumps beneath my clothes. I liked walking
around at night, I liked the thrill of being on the
edge of something just out of sight. The great
unmentionable.
I went in the liquor store, run by a Vietnamese guy
named Ho, like Ho Chi Minh, but without the bad
attitude. He had a picture of himself during the war,
young and dead, lifeless eyes he had, standing with a
couple Americans, just staring at the camera. I wished
I had that picture on my wall. I bought a peach wine
cooler, counting out my change, and I opened it as I
walked back out onto the street.
I wasn't sure where I was going, or what I wanted to
do. I decided to stop in the adult bookstore, that was
always a bit of a thrill. It was a seedy place, not one
of the new bright couple friendly places that had
sprung up lately, this was a throwback to when such
places were the very pits of depravity that any decent
community shunned. I liked it because the only people
in there were guys, sick sex addicted men with nothing
good in their lives. They loved women, passionately,
romantically, the dreamt of us, and we rejected them
utterly. They hated us, they hated me. I could feel it.
They hated the way I intruded on their fantasies,
walking into that place, seeing them looking and
wanting and never having. What a betrayal.
I'd saved half my cooler and I put it on the counter
for Rolf, who was German, but he talked like anyone
else from LA, without any accent at all. "I didn't have
enough for two." I shrugged apologetically as he drank
it.
"Thanks. How ya doin?" he lit a cigarette and handed it
to me. He smoked French cigarettes, he said they cost
him a fortune, but they were good. They had cloves in
them, just a little, so that the smoke was heady.
"I'm bored." I looked around. "Got anything I can take
for a test drive?" I was referring to the unusually
large assortment of dildos, vibrators, and sundry
personal appliances on display.
"Heh." It was an old joke between us. The first words
I'd ever spoken to him, before I'd spent 30 bucks on a
dildo that I'd desperately needed at the time. "How's
the writing?"
"It sucks, how's the biz?" Rolf had never pretended to
be anything but a pornographer, you had to respect that
kind of honesty. It also meant he knew everybody. The
bookstore was just a front, I'd seen his real stuff
before.
"You looking?" He puffed his cigarette the continental
way, holding it almost delicately between his thumb and
forefinger.
"Not yet, why? You got something?"
"Some guys in the valley, looking for fresh faces, you
know. It's a hard six hundred if you're interested."
"When?" An easy six was pure ice cream, nothing to it.
Guy "meats" girl. A hard six was something else,
anything from BDSM to Piss to Dogs. It wasn't always
pleasant, but it was only an hour long, or less, which
meant only 3 hours of shooting, which meant only 6
hours of working. Six was the magic number for me.
"Anytime. Saturday?"
"Sure, yeah." I needed the money. "No dogs right?"
Rolf laughed, but he'd set me up once with a guy doing
a horse flick.
"No, just straight up stuff. Vanilla... like you." He
grinned.
"Yeah, right, okay... Who's gonna insure me?"
"I can do it, don't sweat okay? I'll talk to them. Come
by Friday I'll have something." Rolf would be my guy,
just so somebody knew where I was.
Some old man was looking at me, over a rack of European
porn, trying to be sly about it and I waved my fingers
at him, so he turned around quickly. "Got any tokens
laying around?"
"Take 13, I fixed the lock." Rolf handed me a dozen
silvery tokens for the video booths. He knew I was
hooking, but it wasn't a problem, I'd take care of him
at the end of the night. It was better than hanging out
on the street and Rolf didn't mind.
"Thanks Rolf." I smiled and walked through the dark
doorway, seeing maybe 7 or 8 guys, shadows lurking in
the darkness. I went to the booth with a big 13 on the
door and went inside, not bothering to lock the door,
or even close it all the way. I dropped a token in the
lighted slot, just to get some light really, such
booths tended to be messy especially this late at
night.
The screen came alive with some blonde getting it from
3 black guys all at once. The bench was clean at least,
although the floor didn't look too good, and the screen
itself had a rather tacky stain in the lower left hand
corner. There was a glory hole on either side of me,
almost, but not quite directly opposite and at shoulder
height as I sat there. I put out the French cigarette
on the floor about the time I heard the door squeak
just a bit, I looked over my shoulder and saw a middle
aged guy in a rumpled suit, completely ordinary,
looking at me through the narrow crack.
He disappeared, probably because he was gay I thought,
and that didn't bother me. In fact nothing about this
bothered me in the least, quite the contrary I found it
exciting. Not just being in the most degrading
surroundings imaginable, but being with strangers, men
whom I would never know. Who could be carrying anything
from infections to knives to religious tracts. I loved
not knowing. Of taking a risk without limits, without
definition. It was the ultimate experience for me,
emotionally, to be so far out of control that I wasn't
even on the pill. Give me a baby, give me aids, give me
a hit of the white lady, or just hit me, rape me, kill
me...I want to be a victim.
I was soaked already, it happens for me just that
quick. I'd left home when I was 13 the first time, got
caught 5 weeks later and did it again when I was 14, I
didn't fuck up after that. I was enjoying it too much
to go back. Enjoying things like this. My heart was
beating and I had little butterflies in my stomach,
being in that booth, stinking of semen and sweat,
watching the people on that TV screen, as if they were
things. I felt like a thing, I was so dead inside all
the time, only now, alone with the monsters did I feel
alive.
I heard someone entering the booth next to me, to my
right, the soft metal chunking of tokens being dropped.
I pulled my top up, above my breasts, folding it under
so it stayed in place, and I leaned back, rubbing my
hard brown nipples. I pulled my rings, twisting them
and wondering if the guy was watching. I resisted the
urge to peek myself, Instead I just waited until a few
minutes later I saw the man's stiff penis pushing
through the fist sized hole. It was chubby and not too
long, swollen with his excitement and I reached for it,
stroking it slowly, rubbing my thumb over the head.
"Suck it." The voice was low and husky.
I leaned forward, blowing across it. "Twenty." I
whispered back, just barely grazing the tip with my
tongue.
"You're a girl?" The voice came back. I told him I was.
"Show me."
I stood up, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down
and then fully off, stepping in and out of my shoes one
at a time, then folding them over the back of the
bench. I pulled my panties to the side as the cock
disappeared and I could just make out the light
reflected from a pair of eyes. I turned, showing him my
pussy, spreading my lips and fingering my wet slit.
"How much?" He was staring.
"Fifty."
The penis reappeared a moment later with a twenty
dollar bill next to it. "Just suck it." I squatted down
and took him in my mouth then, giving this unseen
stranger a slow stroke and smoke, fisting the base of
his thick shaft while I sucked a few inches between my
lips. It wouldn't take him long, staring at his own
video screen while someone was giving him head. Even if
he'd already cum once, or even twice already tonight,
they never lasted long when they felt the real deal.
I was just starting to get into it when I felt him
getting close. "Deeper... ah fuck!" I heard him
groaning and thrusting his cock so it banged the back
of my mouth and almost made me gag, but I was halfway
expecting it. His sperm flooded my mouth, thin and
watery, and I swallowed it eagerly, feeling it sliding
down my throat. I kept my mouth on him until he was
spent and let him pull away. "Show me." He breathed.
And I opened my mouth, letting him see the remnants of
his orgasm pooled on my tongue and I swallowed that
noisily, giving him his money's worth.
He pulled out and I wiped my lips with the back of my
hand, looking over my shoulder at a muffled sound and
seeing another cock pressing through the hole on the
other wall. I turned and put my mouth over the head,
giving it a quick lick.
"I wanna fuck." The guy was saying.
"Fifty." I told him, sitting back on my heels and
rubbing my breasts.
"Forty, come on." His cock was large and dark, dripping
precum.
I shook my head. "Fifty bareback, take it or leave it."
He tossed a crumpled up twenty and two tens through the
hole. "That's all I got."
"I'll blow you." I pushed the tens back at him and put
my mouth on his cock, wriggling my tongue underneath
the swollen head.
"Throat me." He was shoving with his hips and I let my
throat open for him, his prick catching my swallow and
pushing all the way inside until my face was pressed to
the cool sheetrock of the wall.
Someone opened the door behind me, stepping inside and
I heard it lock. I had the guy's cock in my throat
still, my muscles working against it as if I could
swallow that thick throbbing warmth all the way down to
my stomach. I felt a giddy rush of excitement as I had
no idea who was in that small room with me, watching as
I gave some anonymous guy head. I felt his hands on my
hips, lifting me so I stood, bent over at the waist,
sucking loudly. I pulled my mouth away long enough to
let saliva and precum run from my panting lips,
dripping across the hardness in my hand and down onto
the floor.
"You wanna fuck?" I breathed, looking over my shoulder
and seeing a thin middle aged guy with glasses. "Fifty
and you do what you want."
"Okay." He was massaging my cunt through my panties,
pushing my legs wider. "Keep sucking, I like to watch."
I went back to giving the guy next door head, deep-
throating him a few times and then sucking just the
head for a moment, then doing it all over again while
my hands rubbed the wetness we were making all around
his hot penis. The man behind my pulled my panties to
the side, and I felt his cockhead pushing inside me
hard, without any pretense at patience or concern. He
wasn't overly large, but it felt good, being invaded by
that strange prick and I gave a little moan around the
cock in my mouth.
It wasn't long before the cock in my face erupted,
ejaculating in my mouth. "On your face!" The guy urged
and I pulled his cock free of my lips so his last few
spurts painted my cheeks and nose and chin. I rubbed it
all around my face, feeling the warm stickiness of it
clinging to my features. The guy pulled his cock back
through the hole whispering thanks and then he was
gone.
The man behind me was fucking me hard, ramming himself
into me so that I had to brace myself against the wall
with my palms, licking my lips and tasting the sperm
slowly drying on my face. It felt good and I was
squeezing him with my vaginal walls, contracting my
muscles slightly, just enough so that he could feel it
and within 4 minutes of starting, the man finished,
blowing his sperm deep inside me. He held himself
there, making soft noises and digging his fingers into
my hips.
He pulled out and I stood up slowly, stretching my back
a little. "Pay me." I told the guy, feeling his seed
leaking out from my slightly distended labia. I pulled
my panties back into place.
The guy laughed at me. "Fuck you." And he started
opening the door. I grabbed at him and he pushed my
face with his hand, shrugging off the loose grip I had
on his t-shirt. "Thanks for the fuck, bitch."
I let him go, even though it pissed me off. I deserved
it, I thought a little bitterly, always get the money
first. It was a rule I knew and usually lived by, but
sometimes...I just wanted to forget, just to see what
would happen.
I sucked off three more guys over the next 30 or 40
minutes, by now the word was out that there was a whore
in lucky 13 who was charging twenty for a blowjob. The
downside of working the guys in a bookstore was that
they didn't want to spend anything, so getting fucked
was usually a pretty rare thing, unless I gave it away,
as I had earlier.
I was wishing I had another wine cooler, or some gum,
or even some water just to rinse my mouth when a pair
of cocks pressed together through the glory hole to my
left. They must have been good friends, I thought with
a little smile.
"Get us off." One voice said and the other echoed.
"Yeah girl, open up." I could see one guys hand,
stroking them both together, a couple queers wanting it
at the same time.
"Show some dough." I told them. "Twenty each."
"Aww come on, 20 girl, just suck em at the same time."
One guy said and the other giggled.
"No way, you want it you gotta pay." I tickled them
with my finger nails.
"Twenty five, please?" The giggling guy sounded young.
"I'll do you both for thirty, but when one of you cums,
it's over for both of you." That seemed like a funny
way of dealing with it, but they agreed and pushed
their money through. I picked up the bills and put them
on the chair with the rest of my money. The floor was
getting pretty messy now with spit and jism, but I was
kneeling in it now too, heedless of the wetness
spreading across my legs when I moved.
I left the booth an hour later with a couple hundred
bucks in dirty wrinkled money stuffed in my purse. I
went to the bathroom to clean up. There was only one
and it had no lock on the door. There was a stall, also
without a door, and two urinals, and a sink. It wasn't
pristine, but the plumbing worked.
One look in the mirror was enough to make me shake my
head. I was a mess and I turned on the faucet, washing
my hands all the way up to my elbows in the cold water.
Some guy came in, staring at me as he walked to one of
the urinals. I watched him in the mirror until I
started washing my face and neck. He left without a
word and I was alone for a few minutes. I pulled my
halter down, beneath my tits and washed them as well.
Another guy came in and grinned at me as I rubbed my
tits.
"You like bathroom?" He asked me and I looked at his
reflection in the mirror.
"Fifty."
"Come here then." He was younger, only 30 or so and not
bad looking, even though he dressed like a punk, in
jeans and a tank top. I walked over, grabbing my purse
off the sink, my breasts still hanging out, pushed up
over my top. "Get down here."
He pushed me down so I knelt between the two urinals
with my back to the wall. I hung my purse on one of the
flushing handles and looked up at him as he pulled his
flaccid penis free. "Open up." He smiled and pushed his
cock into my mouth. I sucked briefly and started
swallowing quickly as he began pissing. It was bitter
and hot and salty and it overflowed, running down my
chin and neck and tits. He pissed for a few minutes
like that and left his cock between my lips afterward
so I could clean him.
"You wanna go to a party?" He asked me, zipping up. He
reached for his wallet, a big leather thing chained to
his jeans and pulled out a fifty dollar bill.
"Nah. I gotta work tomorrow." I shook my head, looking
at a couple guys in the doorway and feeling my stomach
churn a little as it tried to deal with all the sperm
and now piss I'd swallowed.
I cleaned myself up again, ignoring some invitations
for an encore and walked out of the arcade feeling the
eyes. The guys stayed in the shadows, hiding as I left.
It was the way of it and I think I could understand,
almost. I gave Rolf a hundred and a smile. He gave me
another cigarette and I leaned against the counter
smoking it with real pleasure.
"How come you never tried to fuck me, Rolf?" The
thought just occurred to me.
He shrugged. "I'm HIV positive." He was stacking
videos. "You know that."
"So?" I knew he wasn't sick, not really. He just
carried the anti-bodies, but it could happen any day.
Rolf was just waiting.
"So..." He looked at me. "I don't know. Guess I lost
the urge for it, ya know? And now..." Rolf's voice
filled with irony and he grinned, gesturing around us.
"...now I'm just selling the drama."
end
rache696@yahoo.com
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 31