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  “Ohhhh,” I murmured, licking my lips, the pink plushness enticing. “Oh yes.”

  Slowly, I picked up the dildo Lauren had given me and took a long, slow lick before forming a perfect “O” and delicately inserting the tip in my mouth. I let my tongue trail around the bulbous head, kissing and massaging the soft rubber, before sliding it down my throat, taking it deep.

  I thought I heard Lauren squeal with shock from my dirtiness. Yeah, I know I come across as a nice, conservative brunette, but I’m pretty slutty on the inside and have practiced a lot on cucumbers, zucchini and squash. Personally, pickles are my favorite except the juices can become overwhelming.

  Slowly, I took the dildo in my throat, getting the toy massively wet as Ralph and Lauren watched with amazement. Then with a wet sucking sound, I pulled it out, and sat myself down on the couch facing the camera, knees spread, this time hooking a finger around my panties to sweep the crotch aside.

  “Like it big boy?” I asked, addressing the screen. Of course, the screen was black but I knew how these things worked. Bring the customer into the scene, right? Make them feel like they’re right there with you.

  Pulling my knees up so that my pussy was fully exposed, I reached down with two fingers and held my labia apart, pulling the soft flesh so that the lens could zoom into my pink pussy. My vulva was steamy and moist, my inner channel a hot pink, dripping with fluid and even pulsing a bit, beating with my arousal.

  With a soft moan, I circled the dildo around my clit, tossing my head back, before beginning the penetration.

  Oh god, it felt so good! I could hardly believe I was doing this, and yet it came so naturally to me. The massive head parted my lips, intruding into my tiny depths, stretching me and making me whine with arousal. I slid it in a couple inches, looking down with amazement at the sight of my baby pussy violated by this massive dong, and squealed again slightly as I stirred the big dick in my cunt, letting it graze my clit while stimulating my sweet folds.

  But I wanted it deep, real deep. With a determined look, I grabbed the base of the dildo and pushed it into my snatch, the glistening pole disappearing inch by inch into my chubby pussy, the lips now stretched as thin as rubber bands. I squealed and moaned with the penetration, bucking my hips slightly, but making sure to keep my knees wide so that the camera could see everything.

  Once the toy was in all the way, I let out a deep sigh of pleasure. Oh yes. This felt sooo good. Eyes closed, I imagined the dildo as my stepbrother’s cock, pulsing and beating inside of me. I imagined Saxon and Stryke stroking my curves as I took them deep, one in my mouth and one in my cunt. My lips parted, as if sucking on an imaginary cock even as the dildo pulsed inside of me. My body began twisting sinuously on the casting couch, and with a flick of my wrist, I began fucking myself, the rubber toy sliding in and out with wet, sucking sounds.

  “Oh oh oh!” I moaned, tossing my head, twisting a nipple with one hand as my other guided the cock in deep. “Oh yes,” I grunted as squelching sounds rang out. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  And my performance was grade AAA. With a roar, Ralph came, a great spurt of sperm jetting from his penis, arcing over the desk before landing wetly on some papers. He didn’t give a shit though. His eyes were glued to me as he jacked off, watching me fuck myself with the enormous toy.

  Lauren too, was watching with her eyes wide and mouth open. Although she wasn’t touching herself, her face was flushed and breathing elevated. Holy cow, I’d even aroused another woman!

  Inordinately pleased, I kept running the rubber dick in and out, making sure to fuck myself all the way to the base, letting my pussy feel the full length of that ten-inch toy. After about twenty seconds, I felt my crest coming. A tidal surge began in the base of my spine, and with a blast, exploded in my pussy, ecstasy and pleasure rippling in waves through my body as my twat contracted and spasmed on the toy.

  It was hard to control, I admit. The dildo was deeply rooted in me, and my pussy spasms were so hard, so strong, that it almost forced the toy out. I had to grip the base firmly to keep it in my snatch as my flesh pulsed with its own rhythm around the hard shaft.

  Finally, the last of the spasms subsided, and I opened my eyes before blinking slowly, and letting my lips curve into a soft, sated smile. With the dildo still buried in my twat, I asked the camera, “Did I get the job?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stryke

  Shit, our stepsister was so fucking dirty. It was unbelievable how this turn of events had come to pass. It gave new meaning to the words “perversity” and “irony.” Plus, I’ve always told my brother that truth is stranger than fiction, and this only proved my words right.

  Because last week, Ralph, our man on the ground in New York, had called, his voice rough and harsh.

  “I got one for you,” he said with little introduction. “You’re going to want to see this one.”

  I shrugged. Ralph is one of those dudes who talks a big game but never delivers. So I shrugged.

  “Really?” I grunted. “Then send it over.”

  Ralph cackled. “Will do, Boss!” he said. “The tape’ll be at your place by next week.”

  I hung up, not expecting much. After all, my brother and I work in the adult entertainment industry, and it’s not exactly a business known for its stability and reliability. In fact, this business is the opposite. Performers come and go, and never seem to have their paperwork in order. But it’s not just the on-screen talent. Even the off-screen talent seems to have trouble. Take last week for an example. Our film editor Harvey showed up an hour late to our editing session.

  “Where have you been?” I said as the door closed. Harvey slouched in looking worse for the wear. His cap was pulled low over a hang-dog expression, and his clothes were rumpled as if he’s slept in them.

  “I swear Stryke, it was my dog,” he pleaded. “Norma’s been so uppity, and you know how it is with elderly poodles. If you don’t comb their fur just right, they get so uptight and upset. I had to stay with her until she fell asleep,” he pleaded. “I had to.”

  I rolled my eyes in the darkened room as my fingers flickered over the keyboard. If Harvey hadn’t been the best editor money could buy, I would have fired him because this whole dog business.

  “Take her to the vet,” I said in an even voice. “And don’t ever be late again.”

  “I will, I will!” he sniveled, sliding into his seat at the console. “Now what do we have today?”

  “We’re editing Schoolgirl Smut Volume 4,” I ground out. “Here, I’m going out for a smoke. You take over.”

  And with that, I left the editing room, banging the door behind me. Such is the life in the adult entertainment industry. I swear, wrangling my employees is harder than herding cats.

  But I love it. Sax and I came upon this industry by chance, and it’s a good fit, not to mention being incredibly profitable. We haven’t given up school or anything like that. We’re still students at USC. But early on, we enrolled in a class called “A Brief History of Porn” and immediately knew that our future lay in the adult industry. It’s not that we’ve given up on mainstream film. It’s just that mainstream shit is so fucking expensive, requiring a million sign-offs, a million dollars, and a million permits, whereas with porn you can produce a film relatively cheaply.

  So we dived into the trade with gusto, trying out new camera techniques and dialogue, while also making a shit ton of money. Sex sells, I’m telling you. It’s an old saying, but until you’ve been in the porn industry, it’s hard to wrap your mind around just how well sex sells. In fact, Sax and I are rolling in dough now, and it’s because of our production company.

  Of course, we don’t do everything ourselves. Every great man stands on the shoulders of others, and one of the most important aspects of any film is casting. In porn, it’s even more crucial because no one’s really watching for dialogue or plot. They’re watching to see beautiful girls lose their innocence, and we don’t disappoint in our videos.

  As a
result, we source girls from all over and are always looking for new talent. It’s just the nature of the biz. Young, nubile women are highly sought by all the studios. For us, it’s especially important right now because we’re developing a naughty schoolgirl series preliminarily titled, “Dirty for Professor X.”

  As a result, we’ve developed a network of scouts all around the country. They’re mostly club managers who keep their eyes open for girls with the right looks, body, and pizzazz. Ralph, for better or worse, is one of our best. It’s partly because he’s in New York City where there’s a deep pool of talent, but also because he’s experienced. He knows what we like and what we don’t. In: big boobs, curvy bodies, and slutty attitudes. Out: Drugs, dependencies, and daddy issues.

  So I’d been eager to see the footage that Ralph promised. We’d watched a lot of audition tapes recently, but most girls don’t have the innocent, wide-eyed look necessary to portray a nubile co-ed. Instead, most had that worn-out, used-up look, which in porn is sadly common. No one wants to buy that stuff. Even if you’re featuring grannies, they still want the grannies to be old but comely. Again, this industry is filled with paradoxes, and it’s not my place to say what sells and what doesn’t.

  I clicked the video icon and my screen blurred before sharpening and focusing on beautiful girl with luscious auburn hair and a curvy body to-die for. My eyes squinted a bit as my hands gripped the chair handles. Could it be …? Holy shit, it was. I bolted straight up in my chair.

  “Sax!” I yelled. “Get in here!”

  The performer was still staring uncertainly at the camera as my brother strode over from the other room, taking a break from looking at “modeling shots” submitted by some of our hopefuls. Guys are gross because they send unsolicited penis photos, but the girls in the industry can be even worse – we’ve been propositioned every which way by young things hoping to land a starring role in one of our films. It’s sad, really, because the photos they send always have a look of desperation.

  “What?” Sax growled. “This better be good.”

  But when he saw the face on screen, his jaw dropped, and blindly, he reached for a chair, pulling up to the monitor.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I managed. “It’s Melanie,” I added unnecessarily before pressing play again.

  And fuck, but our new stepsister was absolutely magnetic. At first she was stilted and shy, moving robotically, but it only lent authenticity to the whole thing. She was the original nubile co-ed, doe-eyed and innocent while wobbling uncertainly in front of the camera. But the girl improved quick. Soon enough, she warmed up to being filmed and was working her tits and ass like a pro, flashing bits here and there while teasing the viewer.

  “Hey big boy,” she cooed, while licking a nipple coyly. “You like?”

  Yes, my brother and I liked very much, judging from the bulges at our groins. Fuck, the little girl was sexy!

  I heard a low moan from Saxon when Melanie slowly inserted the dildo into her pussy. Her snatch was so tight, so wet, that the toy could hardly stay in, and she had to shove forcefully with her wrist, that big piece of rubber coated and dripping with her fluids. Her scene ended with a magnificent orgasm, her little snatch twisting and clamping on the monster, her head thrown back as she gave the sweetest of whimpers. Her giant breasts heaved beautifully as sweet liquids dripped onto the leather couch.

  As soon as the tape ended, I turned to my brother.

  “We have to get her here,” I ground out. “Forget New York. It’s all about LA.”

  “Fly her out immediately,” he agreed.

  But the unspoken lingered in the air. Melanie wasn’t just any ho who’d appeared on our radar. She was a beautiful, untested girl with sensuous control of her body, and also our new stepsister to boot. Was the family relationship going to stop us? Hell, no. There was money to be made, and Sax and I have never shied away from the forbidden.

  But at the same time, I wanted to see this go down easy. We both did. After all, my brother and I aren’t heartless bastards. We want our performers and our lovers to feel cossetted and taken care of, and Melanie was no exception. We’re not here to use up girls until they’re dried up and wrung out. Instead, we’re here to celebrate women and their bodies, as ironic as that sounds. So who knew how this was going to work out? But no matter what happens, my brother and I want Melanie to be happy … and we’ll go the extra mile to make sure of it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Melanie

  Things have moved really fast. After the audition, I’d confronted Lauren.

  “You said we were stripping, not doing porn!” I’d accused in the dressing room of the club, ignoring the dancers who brushed past us.

  Lauren was nonchalant, applying make-up under the bright bulb of the vanity mirror.

  “Oh stop,” she said breezily. “It was just an audition tape. No one’s going to see it except Ralph and the producers,” she said. “Plus, I can tell Ralph really liked you,” she confided with a wink.

  Oh really? And what gave it away? The huge jet of semen that’d erupted when he came? The disgusting moaning sounds he’d made all throughout my audition?

  “No seriously Mel,” said Lauren, turning to face me. “Lots of girls audition at the Donkey Club because it’s a gateway to the NYC scene. There are actually talent scouts and agents in the crowd here, looking for the next breakout star. You never know who you’re going to meet,” she hinted.

  “Talent scouts? Agents?” I practically screamed. “Did you get a look at that crowd? Rednecks without a dollar to their name!” I shrieked. “I don’t care who’s in the crowd, even if it’s the head of NBC Studios himself. We can’t do this!”

  “Shh,” hushed Lauren, looking around. “Careful what you say. Some of those ‘so-called’ rednecks are regulars, so don’t be a snob. Their money is just as good as anyone else’s. Besides, haven’t you heard of that expression ‘don’t judge a book by its cover? This is it. Don’t judge the crowd just because they’re wearing overalls. You know, a lot of farmers are millionaires because of crop subsidies.”

  That shut me up. Although I’m not an expert on agricultural reform, everybody knows that there’s real money in any business, so long as you know what you’re doing. Plus, look at me. I was hoping to make a pretty penny by dancing for dollars. So how could I judge someone just because they were gnawing on a stalk of hay? After all, I was part of the ninety-nine percent, doing whatever I could to stay afloat. So I kept my trap shut, aware that the conversation had veered off course.

  “Listen, am I going to be dancing tonight?” I asked woodenly. Tuition was due next week, and maybe I could figure out some kind of payment program with the Trinity registrar. I hated the thought of asking for help, but there were no other options.

  “Nah, Ralph says that he needs to talk with the producers first,” said Lauren casually, putting on the final touches to her make-up. “But I’m sure you’ll hear back, and soon you’ll be up on that pole, shaking that moneymaker,” she grinned devilishly. “Plus, it’s time for me to get my own moneymaker going,” she sang. “See you later, babe.”

  And with that, Lauren pranced on stage, shimmying and jiggling like a real professional. Oh wait, I guess she is a professional. But my friend was damn good, swinging that long blonde hair, jiggling her boobies, and spreading her snatch for men to kiss and lick. Because the Donkey Club is a no-holds-barred type of place. Guys get to touch, feel and smell, fingering girls here and there, and pulling their dicks out as the girls circled around the crowd. I thought I even saw a girl seat herself in a customer’s lap, throwing her head back as his cock wormed into her from behind. But I couldn’t see very well so maybe it was my imagination. Frankly, I was so overwhelmed that my mind could have been playing tricks.

  So I just observed that first night, my mouth hanging open at the utter debauchery of the Donkey Club. The bus ride was long and silent on the ride home, Lauren counting her money as I stared unseeing out the window. But as we pulled into the bus
depot, my cell rang almost immediately.

  “Melanie?” grunted a male voice. “This is Ralph. You auditioned for me tonight?” As if I could forget. “The directors like you and want you to fly to LA for an in-person interview,” he continued. “I booked you a ticket for tomorrow at 8 am, arriving in LA around noon. A car will meet you at the airport and take you straight to the set,” he said, before hanging up abruptly.

  What the hell? Lauren hadn’t mentioned that there’d be another interview. Besides I had class tomorrow!

  “Wait a minute,” I mumbled. “What …?”

  But it was useless. Ralph had already hung-up, and he’d called from a blocked number which meant that I couldn’t call back and cancel.

  “What was that?” asked Lauren, yawning. Her eyes were sleepy but her ears were alert.

  “Nothing,” I said, looking down while tucking my cell phone back into my bag. But again, my friend is sharp.

  “Was that Ralph?” she asked casually. “Because if it was, you know you have to say yes. Tuition’s due next week, and even if the school offers you a payment plan, you’re going to have to put something down by next week. What do you have in your bank account right now, Melanie? Fifty bucks? A hundred? Come on. Don’t be silly.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to tell her that I had about two dollars in my checking account at the moment. So I merely nodded.

  “I know,” was my quiet reply. “I will say yes. In fact, I already have.”

  “Good,” she said, getting up and stretching. “Because otherwise the trip to New York was for nothing. And remember, girl … I’m here for you, got that? No matter what happens, you’re good enough, you’re brave enough, and I’m here for you. This is just step one in our master plan, and it may be hard to execute, but you will. You will succeed, Melanie.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I wanted to believe my friend, but at the same time, it was hard to believe that my life was taking such an indescribable turn. What would happen if my mom found out I was dancing for money? What would she say? And what would all my old friends from high school say if they knew? Or the new ones I’d made at Trinity?