As I sit naked on the couch, his request for a blowjob lingers in the air between us like an oppressive fog, smothering me with its weight and making me feel trapped. My gaze escapes away from his to the stained carpet beneath us, where the harsh lighting mercilessly exposes every flaw and blemish. Each thread seems to hold more interest than the man in front of me.
The silence stretches, suffocating me. My breath comes in short, shallow bursts, in sharp contrast to his steady, expectant stare that seems to pierce right through me. My hands, restless and uncertain, find the edges of the couch and grip tightly, as if to anchor myself.
A mental image of my mom flashes before me—her gentle smile, the weariness in her eyes from battling MS day after day. The stark reality of medical bills piling up and treatments just out of reach tightens its grip on my heart.
I need the money—a mantra that beats in sync with my heartbeat. The money for Mom's treatment is all that matters. The man standing before me, camera in hand and an offer on the table, represents a beacon of hope, albeit a dubious one.
My eyes lock onto the camera, which somehow feels like it's sizing me up and making me second-guess everything. Can I even pull this off? I have to. No turning back now. I'm in too deep. My throat tightens as I force down the nerves and the heat of embarrassment. "Just go for it," I pep-talk myself. "Pretend it's all an act—a scene. You can handle it." This is just a blink in my story, not the whole picture. I won't let it define me.
As I nod, the guy's grin widens, and I get a chill that has nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He stands there, practically buzzing with anticipation, finding some twisted joy in my unease.
My hands reach out, awkwardly fumbling with the buttons on his jeans. The heat rises in my cheeks as I focus intently on what I'm doing. My fingers tremble as I tug at the zipper, my heart hammering so loudly that I swear it's all I can hear.
As I lower his boxers, his growing erection springs free, the tip already glistening with precum. My eyes scan the thick, veiny shaft that stands intimidatingly in front of me. He has shaved around its base, making his cock appear even larger and more imposing. Will I even be able to handle it?
Despite my best efforts to keep it still, my right hand shakes uncontrollably as I grasp it, feeling the weight and warmth of his arousal in my palm. I stroke his pulsating lenght with a gentle squeeze, sensing that it is not even fully hard. Fuck! How much bigger can it get?!
"Look up," he orders.
When I look up at him, I see a hunger in his eyes that scares me. The camera glares at me, capturing the embarrassing scene of me awkwardly jerking off his semi-erect penis. With each second it records, the cold and indifferent lens appears to magnify my vulnerability, creating a spectacle for unknown eyes to see.
"What the hell are you waiting for, little girl?" he laughs. "A written invitation?" His casual cruelty, disguised as humor, only deepens the pit in my stomach.
"Take your hand off my cock and put it in your mouth." He speaks the words, enunciating each one as if I'm slow to understand. "Don't touch it at all, just suck it."
Humiliation scorches my throat—a silent, acidic burn—but I respond with a practiced smile. My hand falls away, and I lean forward. "This is it," I tell myself. "Impress the producers. Secure the role. Get the damn money." I repeat the mantra in my head as I part my lips, knowing this audition could make or break my career in porn. The cost is significant, but it's a price I've convinced myself I'm willing to pay.
"Eyes at the camera," he barks.
Gazing directly into the camera, I open my mouth wide and take him in, feeling the weight of his gaze. My lips wrap around his shaft, feeling the heat and hardness of him against my tongue. As I lick and suck on his mushroom head, I can taste the salty tang of sweat as well as the musky scent of his arousal.
"Just go back and forth with your head. Keep eye contact," he instructs.
His eyes lock on mine, and there's a flicker of realization—he's onto me, sees right through my act, and knows I'm not sure what I'm doing. All I can do is keep going, trying to imitate what I've seen in porn and hoping that's enough to get him to cum into my mouth. Just the mere idea of having to swallow some stranger's sperm makes me feel nauseous. I haven't even done it with someone I care about. But here I am, a random guy's cock in my mouth, and my only wish is not to throw up in front of the camera.
With a tight seal around his pulsing shaft, I begin to move my head back and forth, sucking him deeper with each motion. I hold his gaze, eyes deliberately wide, throwing on my best "I love sucking cock" look. It's a total act, just me trying to sell him on how eager I am. Inside, I'm just ticking off the boxes, playing the role he's expecting, hoping he falls for it.
As he hardens inside me, I increase the pressure of my suction and quicken my movements, swirling my tongue around the tip, mimicking the technique that drove my ex-boyfriend insane. My cheeks are sore from sucking so hard, and my tongue feels like it's running a marathon to help him reach his peak in record time, all while I count down the seconds until this is over and I can wash the taste of him out of my mouth.
His groans of pleasure motivate me as his length throbs against my palate, and I try to keep my lips tight around him while slurping and sucking fervently. I got this! I can handle it. Just need to push through a little more... it will all pay off once I get the job.
"Suck it all in, sweetheart," he growls, his ruthless hand tangling with my blond locks, guiding me to take him in even deeper.
As his thick length hits the back of my throat, my gag reflex kicks in, and I choke on him, gasping for air. He doesn't let up; instead, he tightens his grip on my hair, keeping my head in place, and pushes himself further into my throat.
"Yeah, that's it, darlin'. Don't stop," he grunts. "Just think about how those big shot producers will be blown away when they see my cock disappear down your throat."
I scramble to keep up, the weight of expectation in this industry weighing heavily on my shoulders as he continues to thrust into my mouth. I try to breathe through my nose, relax my throat muscles, and take him in as far as possible, but the overwhelming sensation of being gagged only gets worse. The tears streaming down my face mix with the saliva that drips from the corners of my mouth, creating a wet, messy trail down my chin. His balls slap against my chin with each forceful thrust, the sound echoing in the room.
"Fucking gorgeous," he growls as his cock delves deeper. "You look like such an innocent little girl. Folks will get off watching you with a dick buried in your sweet mouth."
Just when I think I can't take any more, he pulls back slightly, allowing me a moment to gasp for air before plunging back in with even more force. His cock feels like a battering ram slamming into my throat, causing me to choke as I struggle to keep up with his relentless pace. The hope that I may get hired flashes through my mind. I can do this. I force my eyes to stay open despite the sting of tears, trying to relax and take him all the way.
"Just one more inch, and it will be all the way in," he grunts, his grip on my hair tightening to a painful tug, but I don't resist; instead, I grip his thighs tightly to steady myself as he thrusts harder.
As I feel his cock slide deeper, my throat clenches in protest, but I push through the discomfort, determined to prove myself in this audition. When my lips finally touch the base of his shaft, he groans with pleasure.
"Hold it there, just like that," he whispers.
Tears continue to flow down my cheeks as I struggle to control my gag reflex, mascara undoubtedly running down my face.
"What a good cock sucker you are."
Shame initially claws at my insides as a result of his words, but unexpectedly, a ripple of pride swells within me too. It's a confusing blend of emotions—I'm ashamed of my compliance in degrading myself like this, but oddly affirmed by his praise.
As he slowly pulls back, I keep a tight grip with my plush lips, my tongue dancing wildly in circles around his rock-hard length, wanting to push him over the edge.
"Damn, you're crazy for that cock, aren't ya?" he groans, pulling out with a loud pop. "I'm craving to bust my load all over that gorgeous face of yours."
Just thinking about it sends my heart racing, pounding against my chest as if attempting to escape. Surprisingly, I find myself nodding eagerly, a silent consent that surprises even me.
His unsettling chuckle breaks the silence. "You'd like that, huh? You're one hell of a dirty little slut," he growls, his hold on my hair firm as he pulls me to my feet. "And I'm just getting started with you," he whispers into my ear.
"Ahhh! Ow!" I rasp, my voice rough from my sore throat, as I stumble on unsteady legs.
"Sorry," he grunts, releasing his grip on my hair. "I forgot you're just boring vanilla."
My heart plummets. I know I won't get the role unless I step up my game. "I can handle some pain," I whisper hoarsely, summoning a bravery I barely feel.
"Feeling ready to put that to the test, princess?"
My gaze shifts between his and the camera he holds at chest height. Do I? I nod, swallowing hard, my throat tight. My heart pounds frantically, echoing the fear in my mind. This would give me an edge! I can't pass it up.
Every nerve screams to bolt, but the thought of the job and the cash I desperately need chains my feet to the ground. I'm stepping into the unknown, and it's freaking terrifying, but backing down? Not an option.
