The Good Girl

Instead he faced back toward the French doors and sighed. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. If you're ready for this. But I want you to know I don't regret it. Not a goddamn bit. We're both adults."

"Dave?" My voice squeaked, and I cringed a little at the sound of it.

He turned his head. "Yes, Zoe?"

"Please, come here." I patted the bed beside me. He acquiesced, but hesitantly. "I'm not mad at you."

"I'm not mad at you, either, honey."

"Good. That's good."

He kept his eyes trained on mine while he sat down. And when I tilted my head to the side. But not when I let the covers drop to reveal my naked chest. I smiled at him, although he didn't see it as his eyes seemed to be tracing over every curve of my breasts.

I felt a blush under his gaze, and I swallowed before I asked, "So where do we go from here, Dave?"

He licked his lips, his gaze lingering at my chest for a moment before returning to my face. "Do you want it to go somewhere, Zoe?"

I exhaled both my breath and the stress that had gathered in my shoulders. "I do."

"I do, too."

"Great! So maybe now you can tell me why you renovated the basement, and what the hell you've been doing in California."

With those words, I threw back the covers and climbed out the other side of the bed. I heard his growl when I bent—presenting my ass to him—and grabbed my clothes from the floor. Then I sauntered from the room, fully naked. I wanted to level the playing field.

I marveled where this brazen, young woman had come from.

###

"So, tell me again how the basement plays into all of this? Are you planning to film a soap opera?" I pulled my legs up under me and sat on the chaise lounge part of the leather couch downstairs.

I'd spent the past hour listening to Dave tell me about his older brother, Gary, who was a professor and filmmaker out in Los Angeles. How he'd convinced Dave to expand his photography business. To become a partner. And how they'd planned the arrangement of Dave's lower level just right.

Dave had paced the room, gesturing with this hands like an Italian while he spoke. He'd never done either before. Not even when he was nervous. Had he picked up this habit on the West Coast as well?

"Well, uh, not exactly." Dave scratched the back of his neck and finally sat down, too. "You, um, know the film I caught you watching?"

I nodded. He stared at me with a grim smile. I started to shake my head that I still didn't understand, but then my eyes widened. My jaw dropped. I blinked several times.

"Yes, Zoe."

I had to say the words out loud to believe them. I didn't recognize my husky voice. "Your brother's big plan is to have you film pornos?"

"Well, that's one way to put it."

"What other way is there, Dave? And isn't that like, illegal?"

"Yes and no. There are strict guidelines that allow you to make adult films now. It's all going to be very professional. This is strictly confidential, though. I trust you not to tell anyone."

I crossed my finger across my chest and said aloud, "I promise."

"Good girl."

I felt a fluttering in my heart at those words. And something deeper within stirred. The movies I'd watched popped back into my memory.

"Did he...um...did Gary do those videos?"

Dave looked down for a moment. "No. Those are from a long time ago. Mallory and I, back when we were trying to have kids of our own...we enjoyed watching them together."

"I hope not for the acting." I said it with a straight face, but then I giggled when he laughed. "They're horrible. I could write better scripts."

"Yes, they are—" He blinked at me suddenly. The way he stared, I felt like I could see the wheels turning in his head like an old cartoon. "Zoe?"

"Um...what?"

"Would you?"

I scrunched up my nose. "Would I what?"

He cleared his throat. "Would you help me write better scripts? I've got the filming part down. But I need a plot to start them out. My brother is arranging for a couple of actors and actresses to come over. I'll start small..."

Which is how I found myself sitting on one of the padded, swivel chairs in that previously-locked basement room, staring at a laptop amidst three small black monitors, one large one, a keyboard, and a control panel with a miniature joystick and more buttons than I'd ever seen. It must all be for the filming process, but I didn't ask him what it all did. My mind was still trying to process why he had remodeled. That he was currently pulling up a porn site on the Internet to show me various clips.

"I know this may not be the normal way to think of storylines for a short film, but nothing about this is very conventional, is it?" Dave said wryly.

I just shook my head, glancing between him and the array of rectangles on the screen that showed still images of people in various forms of undress...and sex. Something twitched inside me, and I licked my lips. I had gone from Sister Christian, to sneaking viewings of taboo films, to intently watching porn online...with Dave. And I suddenly had no qualms.

"Now these," he pointed at two of the images, "are amateurs. People who took videos of themselves in their home or other places with their cellphone or a stationary camera, like a webcam. They weren't professionally done. It's very popular and easy to do these days. They will actually be more realistic in terms of how people react during sex compared to what you saw on those DVDs."

I nodded this time. "Yeah, I wondered if they were faking part of it. Especially in the later ones from the eighties. Then I knew for sure when we...well..."

Dave smiled at me and ran his hand over my hair. He placed a quick kiss on my lips and then scrolled down the page on the website.

"These here were done by professionals in the industry. There are varying degrees, too. You can tell by the lighting and the way the camera moves. How the actresses look, even. And of course, they usually have some intro or logo by the production company. On free sites like this, the clips are usually ten minutes or shorter, although some videos are quite a bit longer. It just depends on who has uploaded it. The idea for the professionals is to ensnare you with a shortened version so you'll go to their website to get the full episode, which you can only access with a paid subscription. Don't worry about that, though. Are you ready?"

It felt like my heart did a flip-flop into my stomach. But I swallowed then nodded.

He clicked on one of the images, the screen refreshed, and then he clicked on the play icon in the middle of the slightly larger still. When it expanded, he sat back, resting one arm around my shoulders. "We won't watch the whole clip. Just tell me your thoughts on the story. What you think are good and bad qualities. Then we'll look at another one."

For the first couple of minutes, I just stared at the action on the screen. Stumbling with my words while I tried to describe my honest opinion. By the time we'd reached the third clip, I found myself leaning against him. Laughing at how ridiculous something was that the actress did. Moaning softly when an actor did something overtly arousing.

I'm not sure when his fingers started lightly stroking my arm, but my body was amped for more. We were on the tenth clip, which was an amateur one and a little longer than the others, when I felt Dave's hand rubbing against my crotch through my sweats. I bit my lip to stifle my moan, but I did spread my legs a little wider. How could I not?

I managed to offer some comments despite my growing arousal. Dave hummed his affirmation that he'd heard me, but I don't think he was really listening. I didn't blame him. The couple on the screen were smoking hot, and they got right down to the sex, skipping the obligatory five-minute blowjob that Dave confirmed was typical of porno movies.

We let the clip play on, and Dave slid his hand inside my sweats...inside my panties...and started caressing me. His other hand had reached around and was fondling my breast through my T-shirt and bra. I tilted my head back to his shoulder, whimpering at his probing fingers between my legs.

He pressed his mouth softly to mine then whispered, "Watch the movie, Zoe."

I obeyed, licking my lips, tasting the remnants of his kiss. Moaning when he rubbed me a little harder. After another couple of minutes, we adjusted so he could get his hand under my top, but I still remained fully clothed...and seated in our respective chairs.

My own hand found its way to Dave's thigh. Stroking and squeezing. Inching my way up. I found that the closer I got to his groin, the deeper his fingers moved between my own legs. And then I was stroking him through his boxers. A little less deftly than I'd hoped, I managed to get him free. For the first time, I felt his hardness against my palm. Then I wrapped my fingers around his base, which earned me a deep moan and a heated kiss against my neck.

I moved my hand in accordance to Dave's sounds...his whispered directions. Sometimes, I squeezed harder than intended when something the couple on screen did aroused me further. Dave nibbled on my earlobe then or flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin behind it.

By the time the clip was finished, I was panting heavily. Dave was groaning with two of his fingers pressed up inside me and my breast crushed in his other hand. I still held his cock in my fist, but it was loosely and my own movements were sporadic with my mind more focused on what I was feeling.

The screen went silent then returned to the first image of the clip. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Dave, the images replaying in my head. I tried to concentrate on stroking him, but my muscles clenched inside suddenly, and I gasped, my whole body freezing.

"That's it, Zoe. Come for me."

His voice echoed in my head, and his hand sped up between my legs. When his thumb brushed my clit, I screamed, arching backwards, and my hand tightened around his hardness. My whole body was shaking so much, I was afraid I'd fall off the chair. Somehow I didn't. When I could see straight again, I realized I was still gripping him.

"Fuck, Zoe! That was amazing. But do you think..."

Before he could finish, I quickly moved to my knees, cupping him between both of my hands now.

"Zoe, honey. That's not what I meant. You don't have to— Oh, my God!"

I smiled around the head of his cock, which I'd slid between my lips. The taste was oddly satisfying, as was the feeling. Warm and hard, yet soft. The precum—another term I'd learned while watching porn—was a little salty. I swallowed, Dave gripped my hair, and I looked up at him.

He growled, suddenly thrusting further into my mouth. "Do you have any idea how incredibly, fucking sexy you look right now?"

I just blinked at him and continued stroking with my hand while sucking on his cock, just like I'd seen the actresses do on screen. When he moved one of my hands to cup his balls, we both moaned. I withdrew him from my mouth a couple of times to catch my breath, and I enjoyed running my tongue all over his length, feeling his veins and the pulsations beneath his rigid skin.

It wasn't long before I felt both his balls and his cock tightening. I doubled my efforts and was rewarded with a stream of his white cum on my cheek when he suddenly pulled back. I sat back on my heels and used my T-shirt to wipe my face.

Before me, Dave slouched in his chair, his eyes closed. His hand fell from my hair, and his chest heaved. His cock swayed slightly from where it poked through the slit in his boxers, the rest of his release trickling down the sides.

I smiled up at him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked for a moment. He secured his cock within his boxers again then took my hand that was resting on his thigh and tugged. I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Moaning when his lips brushed across mine. Shuddering when his hands caressed my sides and breasts under my T-shirt.

"I think that's enough work," he said, his voice a little huskier. "Let's take this upstairs."

My pussy clenched in delight, wanting to feel him sliding inside me again. To feel his hands all over me. Then my breath quickened at the thought of spending all night with him in his bed.

Oh, what a bad, bad girl I'd become in such a short time.

---

CHAPTER 5

---

A week later—like a good girl—I sat silently wearing my school-issued white cap and gown, my hands clasped lightly in my lap, while we listened to the principal address the auditorium in congratulating my class for their achievements.

Yet in my head, I was remembering every time Dave had touched me last weekend. Every feeling coursing through my body. Mostly because I hadn't seen him after Sunday afternoon when I'd regretfully left his bed and gone back home. But his parting words still clung in my heart.

"If you want this as much as I do, we will make this work, Zoe. Trust me."

I'd struggled but managed to get through the final week of high school. I hadn't seen the need for seniors to sit through class for four days when all of the exams were done and we'd already been confirmed that we would graduate. However, it did give me a distraction to pass away the time doing menial projects.

But the nights were another story. They were fitfully long. And my body ached like I'd never known. Although not as severe, I could only imagine it was similar to a druggie needing a hit, an alcoholic needing a drink. I was addicted to sex—to Dave, to his cock—and I was going through some form of withdrawal. My fingers were a temporary relief until I fell asleep and dreamt of sex, which woke me up and left me crying until I dozed off again.

My parents shocked me by hanging around the house all week; having dinner with me every night. They actually took me to my ceremony...and stayed. But I wasn't surprised by their announcement that they'd be leaving the next day for Australia.

Dave, of course, was there in his professional capacity snapping pictures before and during the ceremony. I avoided him for fear that I wouldn't be able to keep my face from showing the emotions swirling inside of me. But I did wonder what he was thinking about when all of those cliquey girls strutted and posed in front of him, parting their gowns to show their skimpy dresses while giving duckfaces to the camera.

Before I knew it, it was over. A simple walk after my name was called, a shake of the superintendent's hand while being handed a rolled-up sheet that declared I had earned my diploma, and a flip of the tassel on my cap—all while trying to stay poised while Dave knelt in front of us capturing the moment—and I was a high school graduate. Ready to take on the big world.

And yet, all I wanted to do was cry. I wasn't ready to move on. I was used to my abnormal life.

I was a good girl, though, and I held my chin up, smiling when Dave finally found me after we'd filed out of the auditorium. I wanted him to take my hand and squeeze it...or at least whisper in my ear that everything was going to be all right. But he just returned my smile, congratulated me, and moved on to the next set of kids as though I was just one of the masses again.

Once we got home, I headed toward the stairs to go change my clothes. To do what afterwards, I had no idea. But I was a little on auto-pilot mode, and that usually meant hiding out in my bedroom.

"Zoe, come into the living room, please," my father called.

I had just sat down on the couch, still in my knee-length cream dress with the red splotches of flowers and my heels dangling from my fingers, when I heard the back door open and close. I glanced between my parents in their respective chairs. At the still-empty hallway.

"Your father and I would like to say that we're so very proud of you," my mother said, smiling at me. "We know we haven't been a conventional family, but you've still become a beautiful woman."

My father cleared his throat and kept his eyes lowered when he spoke. "Zoe, darling, we know you're heading off to UCLA in the fall. It will be a big change for you. But you have overcome any obstacle that has come your way. And you will continue to succeed in whatever you choose to do. It's a big world, but you'll do fine. We have faith in you."

"We know it's been a tough few months for you," my mother added, suddenly wiping a tissue at her eyes. "And you were a little distant last year when we left you to determine your future on your own. Maybe you doubt your decision to go so far away. Please don't. It's your turn to travel the world. Embrace it."

"We know you're responsible, too, for handling your tuition." My father looked up then, a hint of a smile on his aged face. "Your college trust fund was intended for wherever you wanted to go, whenever you chose to do so. You will be well taken care of for the rest of your life. Do not worry."

I kept blinking. Who were these people? I'd never heard so many words directed at me all at once. And why did I get the feeling that they were saying goodbye for much longer than the summer?

"What they're trying to say," Dave said from the hallway, "is that we're behind you all the way on your decision to go to school in California."

Something said I should thank all three of them. But nothing was coming out of my mouth despite how it kept opening and closing.

"Mr. Mitchell is right," my mother said, her voice sounding far away now...and a little more teary. "We talked a bit this afternoon. He's told us all about your interest in the art program out there. He's assured us you've chosen a first-rate school to earn your degree. It's where he got his."

"And his brother and sister-in-law are both professors there," my father added. "Something to do with films or the like. They've even offered to provide you room and board, which will allow you to retain permanent residency while you're in school. They can assist you with vacating your housing agreement."

"They have a job lined up for you, too, if you want it," Dave chimed in from where he'd taken a seat on the other end of the couch from where I sat.

I managed to look up at him now. He was smiling broadly. I tried not to snort at the thought that my parents had no idea what kind of films Mr. Mitchell's brother—and apparently sister-in-law—worked on. That the one offering them reassurance that their daughter would be well and cared for was screwing their only child.

"You don't have to make a decision about the job or even the housing tonight, darling," my father said. "Just think about it."

And then he and my mother were on their feet, signaling that the topic was sufficiently discussed. He glanced at our neighbor. "We're all going out for dinner tonight to celebrate Zoe's graduation. You'll join us as well?"

"Of course," Dave nodded. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Good, it's all planned!" my mother clapped her hands. "Now if you'll excuse us, we need to finish packing for our trip."

"I guess I should go rest, then," I mumbled.

"Wait, Zoe." Dave stood and looked down at me. "I left your present at my house. Would you like to come get it?"

I nodded, just barely resisting the desire to lick my lips.

"We'll leave at seven," my mother called halfway up the stairs already.

"Plenty of time," Dave growled in my ear when I rose to stand beside him.

###

I was still catching my breath when Dave left me naked in the middle of the crumpled sheets on his bed. I heard him rummaging in the closet, and then the bed shifted when he sat down again.

"I was telling the truth about your present," he said, grinning when I turned over onto my back.

"Oh, so an hour of hot sex wasn't enough?"

"It never is with you, honey." He leaned down to kiss me. Then he placed a wrapped box beside me on the bed. "Congratulations, graduate."

I sat up and tried to pull the sheet over me, but he was sitting on it. So, I left my breasts bared to him. Which proved to be a mistake because he chose to play with them while I fumbled with opening the gift. Once I'd finally cleared away the ribbons and paper, I smiled broadly at him. "My first professional camera! Thank you!"