Not the First Time, But Close
Christopher Daniel Zeischegg
Spring 2010
Spring 2010
He places a photo album on the table in front of me. Inside are pictures of naked women. They lay beside pools and couches, perch themselves on top of cars and erections. The photos look grainy which strikes me as odd. I've never seen pornography shot on actual film.
The man tells me the pictures are in chronological order, to flip to the back to see his progression, his more mature work. I do as he says but still find a yellow tint smeared over the images. Each model sports a full patch of pubic hair. Maybe some have been trimmed. He says they were all shot last year.
In his living room, he says I have the perfect look for this sort of thing, and then asks me how old I am. I tell him, “Nineteen,” and he says most guys who reply to his ad are a decade older. It sounds like a compliment but he still needs proof. He wants to see my abs before he turns on the camera.
Standing behind the lens, he asks more questions: my best sexual experience, what I love about a woman’s body, and how often I jerk off in any given week. I try my best to lie for every answer. Still, he looks satisfied.
“Do you want to watch a gay or straight porn?”
It feels like a trick question, but I say, “Straight,” without any hesitation.
He puts a disc in his DVD player and leaves the camera rolling as I unbutton my pants.
“I'll fast-forward it to the good parts,” he tells me.
When he presses play, someone's getting fucked in two holes at once. All I can see are stiff poles of meat sliding and stretching skin. It's enough to get my cock hard but closing my eyes would have done the same.
I spit in my palm and rub the saliva around my erection. When I look bored, he tells me to turn around and show my ass. “The casting guys need to see this stuff,” he says. I'm obedient. I even arch my back to make it look more inviting.
“Are you close?” he asks.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I'll pay you three hundred extra to finish in my mouth.”
Proper girls used to make men buy them a ring before they put out. I'm sure those virgin brides never thought of themselves as whores. But I demand nothing. The money is simply offered to me in exchange for dropping my spunk in something more grateful than a tissue.
So of course I let him swallow me, lick my ass and finger the hole. I wonder if it's my calling in life: to be slightly misled into exchanging my pursuit of pleasure for someone else’s.