The Making of a Porn Star Ch. 02

With me an exhibitionist and an ex-swinger in the swinging lifestyle with my ex-husband, it wouldn't bother me to parade around naked while having sex in front of others as they watched me and filmed me on camera. Oddly, enough, my husband was the one who coerced me to try swinging. One of his sexual fantasies was to watch me having sex with two men. His sexual fantasy was to watch me stroke them, suck them, and fuck them. Another of his sexual fantasies was to watch me having sex with a woman.

Then, when I received much more sexual attention from both men and from women than him, he no longer wanted to swing. He wanted to quit swinging. Enraged that he couldn't get it up because of his drinking, he called me a whore. Having nothing to do with me, other than he was jealous from all of the sexual attention that I received, that was why he wanted to quit the swinging lifestyle.

"Whore," he yelled verbally lashing out at me! "You're just like your mother. You're nothing but a disgusting whore. How dare you have sex with two men," he said? "How could you eat another woman's pussy? What's wrong with you? Have you no shame?"

It didn't matter that swinging was all his idea. It didn't matter than he coerced me and pressured me to swing with other couples. It didn't matter that he wanted me to have sex with two men while he watched. It didn't matter that he wanted me to have sex with a woman while he watched. He was just angry that his flaccid penis wouldn't allow him to participate. Otherwise, he'd be going through women two at a time.

# # #

Worth the shot, what did I have to lose? No harm in seeing what it was all about, it was just an interview. Seemingly, the perfect job for me, it was just sex. Maybe I'd learn something about the adult film business to take with me on my next job interview.

'Interestingly enough, I always wanted to be an actress,' I thought while imagining seeing my name in lights.

The Oscars of porn, I imagined flying to Las Vegas to accept my AVN award. I imagined winning the award for the best actress and/or for the best sex scene. I imagined going to an AVN show and signing autographed photos for money.

I imagined walking the red carpet for the Adult Video News, the AVN awards, for making adult pornographic videos. I imagined staying in character and playing my role as a porn star. I imagined going to the award show after parties, meeting more people, making contacts, and having sex with more porn stars.

With my big breasts nearly falling out of my sexy dress, I imagined wearing a long, red, low-cut gown with a slit all the way up to my crotch. As if I was Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, or Paris Hilton, I imagined not wearing panties and flashing my blonde, trimmed, naked pussy every time I took a step to walk. Maybe starting off as a porn star will be my transition to acting in the movies,' I excitedly thought.

Becoming one of them, I imagined rubbing elbows and/or acting with famous actors and actresses. I imagined having an agent and a publicist. I imagine having a fan club and earning money by making online posts. I imagined receiving offers to do other things, such as making paid appearances and making commercials.

'Mainstream movies pay a whole hell of a lot more than porn films,' I thought to myself. 'Opening the door from going from one to the other, I'd love to act in a movie that wasn't just about sex. I'd love to mingle and intimately get to know Hollywood celebrities. I'd love for people to see me as a real actress instead of as a naked body willing to have sex with anyone and at any time.'

# # #

A sexy and shapely woman, an understatement, I enjoy having sex. Who doesn't enjoy having sex? Sex made me forget my problems while basking in the pure pleasure sexually connecting with another human being on a deeper and more personal level. Something so very sexually exciting, I enjoy making out while being touched, felt, and stripped naked. As long as the man takes the time to give me a sexual orgasm before and/or after I give him one, as long as it was good sex, and he didn't hurt me, I love having sex.

Moreover, with me a good-looking woman, another understatement, with a body to match, and with me tall enough, I had earned a little money modeling on the runway. Playing my role as a high fashion model, except for not wearing clothes and having sex, wouldn't be much different than playing my role as a porn star. With both careers all about sex, a natural transition to make, if I could play the part of being a fashion model, I could play the part of being a porn star.

The job that I applied for was one that was in my purview. I always wanted to try acting. Perhaps, making an adult film was my foot in the door and my way to learn the art of acting. Many porn stars had become mainstream actors and actresses from making porn movies.

Just to name a few of the more famous porn stars who became movie stars, Ron Jeremy, David Duchovny, John Sizemore, Dustin Diamond, Jenna Jameson, Traci Lord, Angelique Pettyjohn, Sibel Kekilli, Cameron Diaz, Jackie Chan, and Sylvester Stallone. Perhaps, with my pretty face and killer body broadcasting and advertising me out there, that exposure, excuse the pun, may lead to other more lucrative opportunities. If I couldn't enter by the front door to become a mainstream movie star, I was willing to enter by the backdoor. Again, excuse the pun.

After I made a name for myself making porn movies, I imagined a famous movie director discovering me. I imagined playing a serious acting role in a real movie. I imagined a rich man taking an interest in me and flying me around the world in his private plane or going for an ocean cruise aboard his luxury yacht. I imagined buying a big house and owning an expensive car. I imagined being rich and/or famous. If I had to choose between fame and fortune, no comparison, I'd rather be rich than famous.

Even though I was comfortable being naked, I didn't know how I'd feel about being naked in front of other actors and a film crew while they watched me and filmed me having sex. Having had a threesome with two men and lesbian sex with a woman only once before, having never been gangbanged, I didn't know how I'd feel about being gangbanged. Other than finding a rich man to marry, my only other options were taking after my mother and prostituting myself and/or slowly stripping off my clothes while sexually and seductively dancing to music around a pole.

Making porn films seemed a legally better and a safer alternative. With me having a pretty face and a sexy and shapely body, making porn films seemed to be my best and logical choice. Instead of illegal prostitution, legally stroking, sucking, and fucking cocks, and/or allowing actors to legally finger, lick, and fuck my pussy for money under the guise of making a porn movie seemed like something that I could do.

Further, I read about the money shot. Directors paid their actresses a substantial bonus if they allowed the men to cum in her mouths and/or all over her faces. With me having already done that countless times before for free, I'd willingly do that for bonus money in a porn film. Truth be told, with me already onboard and with the right attitude, I didn't consider it a blowjob unless the man ejaculated in my mouth, all over my face, and across my naked breasts.

'Oh, my God, Mr. Johncock, you gave me quite the cum bath,' I imagined saying to my co-star. 'After ejaculating a load of cum in my mouth, and a second load of cum all over my face, in my hair, and across my naked breasts, you're a virtual cum machine.

I imagined wiping cum from my face with my hand and then sucking the cum from my fingers while seductively staring up at my lover as if he was my God.

# # #

Nervous about going for the interview, not knowing what to expect and how it would playout, daring myself to do so, I called the number and made an appointment for an interview. Instead of going someplace shady on the seedy side of town, which I suspected I would, I was surprised to go downtown and to the top floor of a high-rise building. As if he had just moved in or was just moving out, the space was empty.

As soon as I exited the elevator, there was a paper sign posted on the wall opposite me that read, Blue Film Productions with an arrow directing me to the right. Overwhelmed by such a big empty space, the furniture looked so small in the far distant corner. As if they could only afford to lease one hundred square feet of office space in this mega wide-open space, the area resembled a parking garage but with wall-to-wall windows. The office was a long walk away from the elevator and to the distant corner of the building.

The four walls had floor to ceiling, tinted glass windows. The office overlooked the entire city. To the left, the west, was the harbor and to the right, the east, was the airport. To the north and to the south, the rest of the city lay open and before me. The tallest building in the city, with no other buildings blocking the view, making me wish that I lived there, it boasted quite the spectacular, panorama view. If I lived here, I'd never tire of this view.

Except for a desk, two chairs, one in front of the desk and another chair behind the desk, a phone, a desktop computer, a 35mm, digital camera, and a convertible couch were all bunched together in the far, distant corner. There wasn't much else on the entire floor. A two-drawer filing cabinet resided next to the desk with a stack of papers on top of it. Behind the desk, perched on a small dormitory sized refrigerator was a coffeemaker and a toaster. Obviously, the man not only worked here but also, he lived here, too.

# # #

A middle-aged, unshaven, and disheveled man dressed in wrinkled clothes and mussed hair as if he had been, indeed, living there and sleeping on the couch in his clothes sat behind the desk drinking coffee. With my high heels loudly echoing my arrival as soon as I started walking from the elevator towards him, immediately commanding his attention, he perked up and looked to see who was coming. Clearly, announcing my arrival, by just hearing the musical beat of my high heel shoes against the bare concrete, seemingly, he didn't have to see me to know that I was beautiful.

Never removing his eyes from me, he watched me walk closer to him from the distance. Seemingly spellbound and intently staring at me, he put his coffee down and studied me before picking up his camera to film me, record me, and photograph me. As if I was already making a porn movie and he was the director shooting a scene, he followed me with the lens of his camera.

Thinking of surprising him, I debated if I should sexually tease him by giving him my sexiest walk. Nothing he hadn't seen before and/or, no doubt, expected to see now, I debated if I should lift my short skirt to my waist to flash him my white, bikini panties and my panty clad pussy. Tempted to sexually tease him, with him continuing to photograph me, I debated if I should expose my big, naked breasts to him. Instead, figuring that plenty of other women have already done that, controlling myself, I walked towards him like a lady.

I walked towards him normally without flashing him and/or without exposing any part of my sexy and shapely body. As if already enthralled with me, he continued videoing me walking closer. The closer that I walked to him, no doubt, the better I that looked. Never removing his eyes from my approach, he continued filming me with his camera.

"Stop," he commanded with his right hand raised while still examining at me through his camera.

Then, he peered over his camera at me as I neared and stopped. Obediently obeying him, while awaiting his next instruction, I did whatever he asked me to do. Playing my submissive role, while knowing full well that men love women who do that, I allowed him to be the dominant one.

"Now, turn and walk back the other way but slowly," he said while videoing me walking away from him. "Okay. Stop. Now, as if you're a sexy model walking the runway, turn and walk to me again but, this time, slowly and sexily," he said as if he was the director of a movie. "Give me your sexiest walk. Show me what you have. And action," he said putting his hand down to point his finger at me!

Walking with one foot in front of the other, giving him what he wanted to see, I walked towards him as if I was a model on a runway. Giving him my sexiest walk, I walked to him as if I was his sexual fantasy in a dream. Showing him my every curve, I moved my breasts and hips in sections. As I slowly and sexily walked closer toward him, he sung the lyrics from the song, the 'Girl from Ipanema.' Clearly, taken with me, I made quite the impression.

"Tall and tan and young and lovely,

The girl from Ipanema goes walking

And when she passes,

Each one she passes goes, "Aaaha..."

# # #

The first and only time meeting one another, that was my one and only interview. Him watching me walking towards him through his camera while videoing me, filming me, and photographing me, and me walking away from him while videoing me, filming me, and photographing me before walking back towards him. Not even asking the question, seemingly, he didn't care if I had any acting experience or acting ability.

With someone who looked like me, one in a million, certainly, there was no need for me to memorize and/or read a script. Clearly, he didn't want me for my acting ability, he wanted me for how I'd look on camera. Just as the evidence that his camera loved me, no doubt, the audience would love me, too.

He told me that he had interviewed hundreds of women over several weeks, mostly dyed blondes with fake tits, and bad attitudes, and not one of the women had what I had. Inexplicable and unexplainable, he told me that I had the "It," factor, whatever that was. He told me that I was the woman that he had been seeking to find for his latest, adult movie. Without doubt and without having to search any further, I was the star of his next movie. I was his Brianna.

"Please sit," he said coming around the desk to pull out my chair while eyeing my big breasts, my long, shapely legs, and my curvy backside.

Surprised that he didn't invite me to sit next to him on the couch or sit in his lap, he invited me to sit on the chair in front of his desk. Obviously, with me fidgeting with my fingers, and crossing and uncrossing my long, shapely legs, I was nervous. Not confidently relaxed but, fortunately for me, with my lack of confidence not working against me, he liked that about me. With so many beautiful women full of themselves, a beautiful woman who doesn't know that she's beautiful is a positive in this business.

In the way that I was so nervously unsettled, he told me that I reminded him of the song, 'She Doesn't Know She's Beautiful,' by Sammy Kershaw. With me unfamiliar with the song, he started singing the lyrics.

"We go out to a party somewhere

The moment we walk in the door

People stop and everybody stares

She don't know what they're staring for

She don't know she's beautiful (never crossed her mind)

She don't know she's beautiful (no she's not that kind)

She don't know she's beautiful

Though time and time I told her so."

# # #

"Say something," he said as I walked towards him. "Give me some sound. I need to hear your voice. I need to know what you sound like. I need to record you."

Not knowing what to say, suddenly at a loss for words, I said my name and why I was there.

"My name is Susan and I'm here for the actress job to make adult films," I said. Hoping that my dire financial straits would help me to get the job, I added more about my situation. "Desperate for work, and willing to do nearly anything but murder someone, I need the money," I said with a sad, little laugh.

Still watching me through his lens, ready for my closeup, while continuing to record me, as if I was Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard and he was Cecil B. Demille, he asked me another question.

"Have you ever acted before?"

Not having had any practical acting experience, I suddenly looked uncomfortably panicked while thinking that I was going to lose this job before even getting it.

"I did some acting in school plays in high school," I said uncrossing and recrossing my legs again. "But I'm a huge TV series fan and a big movie buff."

Suddenly interested in what I had to say, he put the camera down, took a sip of his coffee, and, with a gesture of his hand, invited me to continue.

"What's your three favorite movies," he asked?

Without even having to think about it, I named three of my favorite movies.

"Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction with John Travolta, Samuel L Jackson, and Bruce Willis. Scorsese's Good Fellas with Ray Liotta, Robert De Nero, Joe Pesci, and Lorraine Bracco. Spielberg's Schindler's List with Liam Neesom, Ben Kingsley, and Ralph Fiennes. Heat as an honorable mention with Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Val Kilmer, and Ashley Judd," I said. "There are dozens more, of course, but those were the first four that came to mind."

He nodded his head and smiled as if agreeing with her choices.

"What's your three favorite TV series," he asked?

Again, I answered without even thinking.

"Sopranos, Games of Thrones, and The Wire with Breaking Bad and John Wick as honorable mentions," I said seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Then, of course, there's Billions, Ray Donovan, Succession, Suits, Deadwood, Justified, and The Big Bang Theory," I said with a sexy laugh. "I'm a TV junkie and a homebody. I'd rather watch TV than to go out to a club."

Again, he smiled.

"Interesting choices. I figured you more for a romantic who watched Hallmark movies but all of your movie and many of your TV series choices are violent ones," he said.

I laughed.

"I have my brothers to blame for that. They're all violent criminals," I said. "When not busting heads and breaking legs, they love watching violent movies."

# # #

As if silently analyzing me, he stared at me without speaking.

"You're very beautiful," he said. "You're not only beautiful but also, you're very sexy and shapely. Moreover, you have a brain in your pretty head. Adding to your sexual appeal, you also have a pleasing and seductively, sexy voice."

I gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Thank you," I said while not knowing what else to say.

He lowered his head to look at the pictures that he took with his camera while still talking but talking to his chest.

"Other than your limited experience in front of a camera, I don't find anything wrong with you. Yet, don't worry about your inexperience. We can train you," he said with a curious look as if he was already planning something. "It's more important how you react to the camera. Porn stars are more known for their sexy bodies and for their good looks than for their acting ability," he said with a laugh.

I blushed while thinking that this is where he'd ask me to undress and give him sex under the guise of him training me. I wondered how many other women that he had trained with that line but never hired them to make a porn movie. Perhaps, his add was nothing more than a ruse to have sex with beautiful and sexy women.

"Thank you," I said again while taking a big breath of courage.

Believing that showing him my naked body was inevitable, I was ready to unbutton my low-cut blouse and stand to unbutton and unzip my short skirt. Assuring myself that I had no choice, I was ready to remove my bra to show him my D cup breasts and remove my panties to show him my shapely, naked ass and my blonde, trimmed pussy. Unembarrassed and unashamed, I wanted him to see me naked. I needed this job and if showing him my naked body was how I'd get it, I was good with that.

Yet, surprising me, instead, of asking me to stand, strip naked, and have sex with him, as if he could see right through me and read my mind, he quelled my fears.