Porn Star(58)

“Your * is so good,” I tell her in a low voice. “I’m going to come so hard for you, going to come so f*cking hard…”

“Logan,” she gasps. “Oh, f*ck, Logan, that’s it, that’s it, oh my God—”

I feel her crescendo, the split second before all the tension unravels, and then she’s unspooling around me, clenching and releasing and clenching again, and I look down at where my cock disappears in and out of her, and I remember what she felt like raw and think of how good it would feel to come inside her without a condom, how satisfying it would be to see my cum dripping out of her, and then my balls draw up tight and then I’m coming so f*cking hard that my vision goes fuzzy and my hearing fades out and there is only the tight heat of her cunt and the surges of roaring pleasure and the mindless drive to rut as hard and as long as I can.

My cock convulses, and I’m grunting, still f*cking my way through the orgasm, and I feel her peak again, her hands flying out to grab at the brick ledge as she tries to keep on her feet, but her knees are buckling and she’s going to collapse. I wrap an arm around her stomach, holding her upright as she rides out the tremors, as I finish releasing my pent-up lust inside her, and we gradually come down together, panting and sweaty and I realize I’m not sure how loud all that just was.

I don’t care. So worth it.

Once I’m certain she can stand on her own, I circle the bottom of the condom with my fingers and slowly pull out of her *. Everything is wet—her, the condom, me on the inside of the condom—and this is one of the moments I usually love least in a scene, pulling out with all my cum still contained. I know, it’s probably domineering and wrong of me, but there’s something so gratifying on this deep, primal level about seeing my cum in a woman’s * or on her tits or on her ass. The condom makes things safe, and I respect that, but at the same time, it makes things sterile, and Devi Dare is the last woman on earth I want to be sterile with.

But, despite all that, despite the sterility, as I pull out, I mostly only feel this intense gratitude and wonder. I got to be inside Devi, I got to feel her come on my cock, I got to touch and experience her in the most intimate way possible, and it’s like f*cking her has taken the torch I carry for Devi and fanned it into a f*cking wildfire.

It’s so strong that I’m not even going soft right now. I could put on a fresh condom and go again...and probably again a few times after that.

I’m still staring down at my dick and Devi is still braced against the wall catching her breath as the footsteps approach, and there’s no time, no time at all, and then a tiny white-haired woman—bespectacled and lost-looking—rounds the corner with her quad cane. We freeze and she keeps walking, mumbling something to herself as she does, and then all of a sudden, she sees us, her head snapping up and her eyes going wide like dollar coins.

“Um,” I say, my hand still around my cum-covered dick and my jeans around my ankles. “Howdy.”

“Howdy,” Devi parrots, still bent over with her dress hiked over her ass.

For a few seconds that seem to stretch into infinity, the old lady blinks at us, too stunned to speak. And then she makes a hasty retreat, shuffling backwards around the canvases until she’s out of sight.

Devi explodes into snorts and giggles, and I start panic-laughing as I frantically tie off the condom and try to pull up my pants and grab all my stuff at the same time. My pants are zipped but not buttoned and my bag slung over my shoulder as I take Devi’s hand and pull her towards the fire exit door, where we emerge into the California night wheezing with the giddy laughter of people who’ve been caught having raunchy public sex by a tiny old grandma.

And then I drop everything to the ground and pin Devi into the fiercest, longest kiss I’ve ever given, wishing she could know with every trace of my tongue and every brush of my lips how much I’ve fallen in love with her.



* * *



The old lady must have kept our secret, because when we presented ourselves to the gallery owner after closing after all the other patrons had left, she didn’t say a word of censure or reproach to us. And so we were able to have the night I planned—some wine and snacks I packed, and a campout on the gallery floor, the camera trained on us from a perch at the foot of the sleeping bag, recording everything.

This is possibly the silliest thing I’ll ever admit to, but right now, the mere fact that Devi and I are sharing a sleeping bag makes me feel floaty. A side effect of being a porn star is that I don’t have very many firsts to share with women. I hardly have any firsts, actually. But I’ve never spent the night with anyone in a place other than my house. I know, that’s insane, but it’s true. Raven and I were always so busy with work that there was never a chance of our travel schedules matching up...so no hotels. And because I’m so busy, she (or the girlfriend I had before her, Tessalie), always came to my house after a day’s work. I have f*cked women in every imaginable space, public and private, but when it comes to actual, honest-to-God sleeping, when it comes to snuggling and spooning and talking about whatever random stuff floats to mind, it’s only ever been in my bed. The novelty of sharing this first with Devi is better than a whole bottle of eighteen-year-old scotch.

“You don’t seem like the kind of person to have a two-person sleeping bag,” Devi points out dreamily as we lie on our backs and look at the strings of fake stars above us. “Do you camp a lot?”