Porn Star(57)

Which I don’t.

I never advocate not-thinking when it comes to filming porn, I never advocate shifting a scene’s acts outside of the agreed-on list beforehand, but I’m so far gone and we are so far outside of what constitutes a normal scene now that maybe God and the county of Los Angeles will forgive me for what I’m about to do.

I wrap an arm tight around her waist, press my hand to her cheek, and lock eyes with her as I shift my hips and then slowly, so slowly that it almost feels like I’m barely moving at all, press inside. The minute I truly breach her, she lets out a loud gasp, and I clap a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

Her head drops forward to lean on my shoulder and I keep going. I have to bend my knees and angle myself, reach down and hike up her leg again, but it feels so f*cking good that I wonder how mad she’d be if I came right now.

Her * is tight, tighter than I could have ever imagined, and so wet that even with the squeeze of her channel I can slide in with almost no resistance. The flared edge of my crown drags against her g-spot and she moans and shakes against my hand, and then I’m pushing up and up and up, deeper and deeper, until her * is stretched wide around my base, her pelvis flush with mine. I grab her other leg and pull her up so that she’s got her legs wrapped around my waist and I’m supporting all her weight with my hands under her ass. I lean back a little so that I can look at where we’re joined, and then I look up at her.

“Cass?”

Her mouth is open and her pupils are huge and black. “Move in me,” she begs. “Just for a minute.”

Jesus f*ck. I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute to stave off the waves of fire her words ignite in me. “Okay,” I murmur, eyes still shut. “Just for a minute.”

I push her against the wall and move, the kind of deep, rolling movements that cameras don’t capture well, but goddammit my body can feel perfectly, and hers too, judging by the amount of noise my hand is blocking. I can feel my tip tracing circles and lines and angles in the deepest parts of her, can feel how tightly she’s stretched around me, and every time I move in her, she moans against my palm.

I shift, ever so slightly, moving my pelvis against hers so that my lower abs knead her clit as I grind into her. The effect is instantaneous—her muffled moans rise in pitch and frequency and her thighs clench tight around my waist.

“Are you going to come, Cass?” I whisper in her ear.

She nods.

“Because...I don’t think I can make it through you coming,” I confess. “If you come, then I’m going to come so fast…” Saying it aloud helps me think, helps me figure out what to do. I can’t come inside of her. This is already so outside of the bounds of pornography film restrictions and what I consider personally okay, and I assume she’s on birth control, but what if she’s not? That would be an * assumption to make, when I have just as much power to exercise caution as she does.

On the other hand, now that I’ve felt her *, I’m hungry to make it come, eager to feel it squeeze and flutter around me. And the idea of holding her so close as I pump my own way to climax...appealing isn’t nearly a strong enough word.

More like necessary.

Luckily for us both, I’m a good problem-solver.

I lift my hand from Devi’s mouth, and then I back away from the wall and maneuver us so that we separate and I can set her on her feet. It’s the third time I’ve denied her an orgasm in the space of twenty minutes, and her wild eyes and stunned pout tell me all I need to know.

“Don’t move,” I tell her, and then I reach for the slender wallet in my back pocket. I locate a condom and pull it out, dropping my wallet to the floor, where it lands with a flat-sounding smack. My patience is so ragged-thin that my hand is shaking as I raise the wrapper to my teeth to tear it open. Devi’s feral eyes are on me the entire time, as I roll the condom down my dick, which is so hard now that the crown is a swollen and angry maroon color. I give it a few hard pumps as she watches, and I feel the last of my control evanesce away, disintegrate into nothing.

“Turn to the wall, like before,” I say. My words are short, staccato rasps, and I hope she forgives me for being brusque, because I can’t be anything else right now. Not with that wet * within reach. Not knowing that I can f*ck her without any worry or reserve.

The minute she turns and spreads her legs, I’m behind her and it only takes half a second for my sheathed cock to find what it needs. I slam in, letting out a low hiss at the same time she lets out a guttural groan, and I think I hear someone ask, “Did you hear that?”

But there’s no stopping now. I wrap her long coffee-colored hair around my hand and yank her head back to me. “If you want to come, you have to be quiet. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “Oh Logan, I’m so close, make me come, make me come.”

I use my other hand to find her clit and start rubbing her there. I’m pounding into her hard now, her ass cheeks shaking, the wet, sweet sounds of her * getting loud and distinct against the backdrop of music and conversation.

I keep a hold of her hair, forcing her to arch her back and keeping that ass at such a delicious angle to me, and I rub her clit harder and faster, until I can feel every muscle in her body tense up, her legs and her shoulders and her stomach, all of her tightening and tightening like a guitar string. And I’m so close now too, so close to exploding inside this girl I’ve craved for so long, and I feel the years of tension, the years of secretly jacking off to Devi when Raven was asleep, twisting at the base of my spine.