Revelations of SUPERFUCKER, or How IT's Done

I was late for the shoot that day.

No, understand me correctly: I love my job and take it seriously, it's just: that's how it happened.

I easily ran up the steps, peeked into the hall.

Ron, our manager and director, met me with a cold look: the son of a bitch was extremely pedantic. Looking pointedly at his watch, he shrugged.

 — We started two hours ago.

I grunted vaguely and asked if there would be any work for me.

 — Haven't gotten laid in a week, — I winked at him.

Ron winced. Strangely, I never saw any sign of his lust at the workplace. For him, the porn business

was just a job.

 — We'll finish the first scene soon. Then a short break, after which your 'entrance'. We'll shoot upstairs.

 — OK, boss.

I headed for the stairs, but, drawn by interesting sounds, I peeked into the room where the shoot was currently taking place. And just in time:

A pretty blonde was on her knees in front of Sam, my old colleague. Sam's huge cock (I was always jealous of him — mine is a couple of centimeters shorter) was clamped in the lady's right hand, her left hand was squeezing his balls. Sam was moving his hips, now plunging the head into her mouth, now pulling it out again. It looked like he was already on the edge, and the finale wouldn't be long in coming.

I immediately noticed that my colleague was lucky with his partner: the girl was clearly a catch. Despite the fact that her lips had already done a lot of work, bright lipstick was still on them, her hair was neatly styled, and overall she gave the impression of a very well-groomed bitch.

Meanwhile, Sam closed his eyes, thrust his 'tool' deep a couple of times convulsively and, pulling it out, hit his partner's face with a powerful stream.

And just at that moment, she noticed me.

Our eyes met, and I immediately understood: it was her. It was like an electric shock — you know, probably, how it happens. I looked at her, inexpressibly beautiful, and felt like I was falling in love like a boy.

Long, murky streams of cum were hitting her face, getting into her mouth, dripping down her lips. A few drops froze in her hair and sparkled like diamonds: or rather, pearls, considering their color. Her eyes, fixed on me, burned with a crazy fire. Her slender fingers dug into Sam's cock so hard, as if they wanted to tear it off.

And then Sam couldn't hold back: he grabbed her head with both hands, pulled her sharply and plunged his handsome cock into her plump lips again. She greedily grabbed it with her mouth and let go of her right hand — so he could go deeper into her.

Sam's buttocks rhythmically clenched: it seemed like the eruption continued inside with renewed force — I always envied his seminal supply. The damn bitch kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye, only now her gaze became clouded, her eyelashes trembled: she was coming. Coming, without touching her clit.

It went on for a long time, damn long. A crazy thought even crossed my mind that Sam would never leave her mouth, that he would just keep rocking back and forth, holding onto her hair. Hmm, I would have understood him perfectly.

After a while, her gaze cleared. Sam's cock still rested in her lips, and it continued to give her pleasure, but the orgasm was over.

Finally, Sam went limp. His face was red, as if he was about to have a stroke, and shiny with sweat. He extracted his trembling cock from the girl's mouth (unbelievably, his 'bald fool' was still oozing), but a second later, unable to resist, he plunged it back in.

She didn't object. She only managed to smile at me with her cum-sticky lips, and then accepted him again. She didn't take her eyes off me the whole time Sam was enjoying the last fragments of his orgasm.

But everything comes to an end. Sam tore himself away from her, glanced at me with a half-crazed look, and, staggering, left the room. It seemed to me that he urgently needed medical attention.

I looked at the girl. I suddenly realized that she was beautiful, indescribably beautiful — expressive blue eyes, a capricious upper lip, cheeks with tiny dimples. She was still on her knees and smiling at me with the corners of her mouth. Sam's cum was dripping from her chin onto her beautiful, heavy breasts. One of the drops froze on a firm, pink nipple.

I suddenly realized that I was staring at her like crazy, forgetting all decency. Forgetting about the cameraman and director, who were busy with their cameras and discussing the shoot.

The girl became embarrassed, as if I had just walked in and caught her naked. She shyly lowered her gaze, brushed a strand of hair, wet with cum, from her forehead with the fingers of her left hand.

And I quickly walked out and leaned my back against the wall, breathing excitedly — just like a lovesick youth from the pages of a naive medieval novel.

I was still full of impressions from what I had seen when my turn came. A classic scene was ahead — me, her, and her holes. Unfortunately, my partner was no match for Sam's partner. I examined her skeptically until the director announced the start of filming. John, our cameraman, squatting down, took aim at us. We were shooting the old-fashioned way, without these newfangled tricks where the bitch being fucked also films herself with a second camera. Old John managed to capture all the best shots with two cameras (one of which was mounted on a tripod). Holding the girl by the waist, I thought that John would have to jerk off furiously between scenes if Ron, our manager, didn't organize a blowjob for him — one a day (which isn't that much, considering the sexual intensity of John's workday). However, I grinned mentally, nothing stopped him from jerking off quietly too.

Everything went according to the plan Ron had shared with me before the shoot. First, I went down on her — tormented her clit with my lips, ran my tongue over her lips — big and small, — trying not to pay attention to the smell — the specific smell of stale raw fish.

Many of my acquaintances envy me — like, the dude fucks chicks, and they even pay him. Of course, that's true, but everything would be even better if the bitches we have to deal with were more clean.

Soon it was my turn. The girl (damn! I didn't even know her name) got down on her knees, brought my handsome cock out into the light of day, and set to work on it with a professionalism that could only be achieved through vast experience. I've had many give me head, including virgins who don't really know how to handle the tool yet — well, this partner of mine sucked like few others.

Then everything went according to the script: I fucked her lying down, then from behind, then standing. No anal, Ron warned me. I smirked: this time I wouldn't have to tread on her shit-bags.

Our dance of flesh was coming to an end when I noticed Her. She was standing in the doorway — just like I had not long ago — and watching me intently. A slight smile played on her lips. My partner felt I was on the edge, slipped out, fell to her knees. She was in the same position I had recently watched Sam with his partner. Her fingers were squeezing my cock, her lips were wrapped around the head.

I turned to her. Her face had lost all signs of irony, her eyes were attentively following all the twists and turns of the action. I noticed that she had managed to take a shower and dress in an elegant blouse and a strict long skirt. Looking at her now, it was hard to imagine that this woman was capable of having an orgasm from someone cumming in her mouth: she looked so beautiful, strict, and unapproachable. And only the greedy expression in her eyes slightly gave her away.

I looked at my beloved, watching me, and suddenly exploded.

I erupted right into my partner's mouth, completely forgetting that the final fountain should be in the frame — so my viewers could see everything. The girl jerked, tried to push the cock out of her mouth with her tongue, but I was unstoppable. I was slamming into her again and again, not caring at all about my viewers, not thinking about Ron and Jack. I made sweeping movements, sliding between her lips, and imagined they were her lips. And I poured out — again and again.

When this madness ended, I let go of my partner. She recoiled and spat out a wonderful fountain of murky cum from her mouth.

Ron was pleased.

 — A little improvisation? — he smiled. — Seems like it turned out well.

During the next break, I found out her name. Not from her herself, though — she was resting and preparing for the shoot at that time.

Jessie. Her name was Jessie.

Ron quickly figured out that something was brewing between us and decided to use it for his own purposes. Hmm, he is a manager, after all.

I can't say I was happy when I learned his script.

But now, at least, we would be shooting together.

I think I didn't mention that Ron specializes in expensive porn films. Those scenes we shoot at the beginning are for warm-up. The most interesting part starts later.

In our time, it's hard to surprise a sophisticated viewer. To achieve an effect, proven means are used — beautiful girls (the more, the better), cool guys with a rough appearance, and quality ambiance — all sorts of lighting, decorations, costumes.

The men were dressed as medieval nobles — batiste shirts with wide sleeves, leather vests, some ridiculous pants.

Bob — a bald giant with tattoos all over his body — didn't want to put them on for a long time, saying he would look like a fag, but Ron convinced him that it wouldn't be for long, and the pants would be taken off soon. Another colleague of mine — a young jock nicknamed Fang — dressed very quickly and was trembling with impatience: this was his first appearance of the day.

Jessie and I were to play a couple of lovers, returning from a walk and falling into an ambush by two bandits.

Ron had set up spotlights in advance, several artificial trees, even got hold of a huge canvas somewhere with a castle painted on it, standing on a hill.

 — Ready? — asked Jack. — Let's go.

Jessie and I walked, holding hands. We had to walk a few meters to the place where my colleagues were 'in ambush'. Jessie looked at me with her shining eyes, her fingers squeezing my palm. I fell in love. My God, I fell in love like a schoolboy.

A turn. A tree. 'Bandits'.

They tied me to a tree and went for Jessie.

First, Fang tore her dress and exposed her beautiful, heavy breasts with pink nipples. (My cock twitched in my pants) Bob squealed and began kneading them with his thick fingers.

Jessie fought back, struggled against her 'rapists', dramatically raised her eyes to the sky.

Without much ceremony, Fang threw her to the ground, pulled up her skirts, and pulled out his handsome cock from his pants. Jessie glanced at him somewhat more carnivorously than her role required. When he drove it inside, she looked at me. My cock in my pants twitched in protest.

Fang reigned over her. He thrust his cock all the way in with a jerk, froze for a moment, then slowly pulled it out, after which the procedure was repeated. Jessie jerked, trying to break free, but Bob was holding her hands firmly at that time.

Finally, Fang came out of her, got up.

Jessie lay with her legs spread wide apart and looked at me.

Bob approached. By this time, according to the script, the heroine should have softened her position slightly but not stopped resisting. Acting according to the script, Jessie shyly brought her knees together. Bob grinned, pulled his rascal out of his pants, and shook it.

Then he lay on Jessie, made a few movements, but soon came out of her.

Bob sat on her chest and began playing with her nipples — he pressed the head against the pink circle, pushed it inside, and moved his hips as if he wanted to fuck Jessie right in the nipple.

From her eyes, fixed on me, I could see that she really liked what was happening. However, soon her eyes were hidden from me — blocked by Bob's ass. I leaned over to get a better view.

Bob brought his cock to her lips, but she pursed them and shook her head negatively. I imagined how much effort it took for her to restrain herself.

Then Bob got off, sat down next to her, and began playing with her nipples.

He squeezed them with his fingers, then licked them with his tongue. And when Jessie began to moan, Bob tickled her clit with the fingers of his left hand, while his right continued to play with her breast. And then she melted — began breathing heavily, spread her knees apart.

Bob unobtrusively reminded her of himself — lightly ran his thick cock over her lips, as if it were an erogenous zone. She shyly lowered her eyes, made a weak attempt to pull away. Bob insisted: continuing to play with her clit with his left, he used his right to pull back the foreskin (he was uncircumcised — like me, by the way), exposing the huge, fire-breathing head, and ran it over her lips again. This time, resisting was clearly difficult for her. But she still pulled away. Bob, noticing the change in mood, retreated and continued his games with her clit. He even used his lips and tongue. And then she cried out. Bob pulled back, clearly not wanting to cause an orgasm prematurely, and began to act more carefully. His cock still rested near her face, but now he didn't insist. After a while, this began to bother her. Jessie glanced at the cock, clearly indicating that she wouldn't resist anymore. But Bob wasn't in a hurry. He towered over her with the air of a victor. And the moment came — she reached for his head with her lips, her beautiful scarlet lips. But as soon as Jessie touched it, Bob pulled away. She reached again — he dodged again. And then she, deprived of the help of her hands (Fang was still holding them — it's unclear why), with a quick jerk of her head, caught the head with her lips (a virtuoso job, considering the thickness of his cock) and pulled it into her mouth. Bob gave in for a second, froze with his eyes closed, but then decisively freed himself from the captivity of her lips.

Jessie moaned, even looked at me as if hoping I would ask Bob to give it to her mouth. How adorable she was at that moment — greedily open lips, burning eyes.

Finally, he couldn't hold back either — he mounted her face, straddled it like a horse, slid his cock into her greedily open lips, and galloped away. From my place, I could see that he was entering her to the full length of his rascal. Jessie moaned, arched her back, rubbed her clenched thighs together.

Meanwhile, Fang let go of her hands and took a position on the other side. He lifted her legs up and got out his tool. For a couple of seconds, he froze, as if thinking about which hole