Superman and the Porn Star

Amateur

Two months into my freshman year on campus, I had yet to score with one of the tempting sirens who crossed my field of vision each day. Admittedly, I lacked the confidence to be a great lover. Confronted with a pretty girl, it was all I could do to get my tongue to function.

There was no real reason for this. The mirror told me that I was reasonably good looking: 5’11”, medium build, dark wavy hair, strong jaw, deep hazel eyes — okay, the eyes were very myopic and had a condition making them too dry for contacts, requiring thick lenses in dorkish plastic frames.

Despite some confidence problems, I was not a complete loss. My virginity had expired over a year ago when a waitress at the lake resort where my family went on vacation gave me an extra special dessert. That gave me the courage to connect with a girl in my class, and we had hooked up toward the end of my senior year in high school.

But so far, despite all the promising porn videos depicting libertine lifestyles on the college campus, I just wasn’t connecting with the girls. And I was feeling the drought. I’d even thought about a visit to my former girlfriend at her college, but it was 500 miles away and her recent letter indicated she had already hooked up with another guy.

My roommate Daryl took pity on me.

“Bro, there’s going to be a hot party tonight at one of the frats. I have a gig there. Why don’t you come along? Never know, you might get lucky.”

Now, in all objectivity, Daryl wasn’t as good looking as me. He was tall and lanky with a hook nose and zits. Even so, Daryl didn’t have a confidence problem, largely because he had a sure fire scheme for meeting babes, which also brought in some spare change. He had a deal recording parties at dorms, fraternities and sororities for one of the online porn producers.

Daryl showed me some of the raunchy stuff he videoed — guaranteed to pitch your tent. He had no complaints about his earnings, and there were trickle-down effects: Frats and sororities got a cut for being “temporary studios,” as did the amateur “stars” they provided. Co-eds attracted to the action chatted up Daryl, the cameraman and informal “director,” and he often wound up scoring during subsequent “casting calls.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” I told him. “I’m not too proud to take one of your table scraps.

The party was not at our college but at the state university campus 30 miles away. Daryl had already told the frat leaders what he was looking for, and we got there early to confirm everything was ready.

“No problem,” according to Tyler, a big, good-looking blond dude who said he had lined up a few willing and very hot babes, one of whom he had already personally “auditioned.” She was to be the lead starlet, inspiring action by others

“She doesn’t have much in the way of inhibitions, but as insurance I’ve already primed her for the shoot with Ecstasy,” Tyler added in a low voice.

I had heard of Ecstasy, a “hug drug” stimulant that produces euphoria and extra energy for long periods of time. Some guys slip it into the drinks of dates, hoping to increase their chances of scoring. One guy told me he took it himself to enhance his performance, and was able to go for an hour or more.

Tyler took us to another room to meet and brief the new starlet. She was tall, with ample cleavage displaying well in her low-cut top, had a nice booty in tight shorts and long shapely legs. She had a pretty “girl next door” face highlighted by a good smile showing white teeth, and long honey-blonde hair held back with a pink ribbon. Her deep blue eyes looked a little glazed.

“I’m Daryl, the camera guy,” my roomie said. “He’s John, my assistant.” She extended her hand, introducing herself as something sounding like “Smanta,” her speech confirming that she was under the influence of something besides ginger ale.

“You’re kinda cute,” she said, smiling at me. “Ought’a lose those glasses though.” Admittedly, my prominent plastic frames did look like something out of the last century, but it was nice to be called cute by a pretty girl, even a porn starlet.

Daryl reviewed the “screenplay.” Tyler would be the “male lead” for “Smanta,”and others from the gathering of onlookers would play “supporting roles.” She didn’t have to fuck anyone but Tyler, but if she sucked off a couple other guys at the same time it was worth bonus bucks. Smanta listened calmly, nodding and smiling, her eyes growing wider and more focused, confirming she was ready to hold an Oscar. Two other aspiring starlets who had been listening pledged to do their parts as extras.

Daryl took a wad of cash from his pocket and gave it to Tyler to share with Smanta and other beneficiaries, including the fraternity treasurer. Daryl had told me beforehand that it was a strictly cash business, and he had already deducted his share.

Students were arriving for the party, and we went to a room where the frat bartender was dispensing plastic cups of keg beer. As in many college towns, liquor laws here were enforced loosely, even in bars and restaurants, and fraternities were eryaman genç escort the wild west.

The music system cranked up, people started bantering and dancing, and the party was on. I made a circuit of the room. As Daryl had promised, there were a number of hot babes, although most seemed to already have dates or were well-attended by other hopefuls.

“John.” I heard my name called. My cameraman roomie gestured from across the room, giving me a heads up that the main entertainment was about to begin. I made my way to the “studio” room, where others in the know were congregating, and got a good seat facing the “stage.” Daryl shouted “action” and started recording.

It was a simple set and plot: Tyler and Smanta were seated at a small table, with books spread in front of them as if they were studying. Other students who Tyler had picked as extras stopped by, with cups of beer, telling them to put aside their academic pursuits and join the party. Tyler began caressing Smanta’s boobs as her hand drifted down to his crotch, and they fell into a passionate embrace, lips locked together.

Smanta raised her hands as Tyler helped her out of the tight top, so her well-formed boobs could bounce freely, to the cheers of surrounding partiers, who served as volunteer extras.. She undid Tyler’s belt and pulled his pants down around his ankles, his boxers showing a pointed projection. The boxers followed his pants downward, and his sizable erection sprang out to her waiting lips. She seemed to admire it a moment, then began licking up and down the shaft to his nut sack, finally taking his length in her mouth most of the way, making enthusiastic slurping sounds to more cheers from the surrounding voyeurs.

This went on a while before Tyler extracted himself from Smanta’s oral embrace, kicked away the clothing around his ankles and sat her on the table, helping her out of her lower garments. She was shaven except for a small sculpted patch, and Tyler licked tentatively while inserting a couple fingers in her vagina, to soft moans. Then he directed her to lie back on the table for the main event, legs in the air, feet resting on his shoulders. He inserted himself into her, slowly at first, then thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm, to more cheers.

“Fuck that pussy,” someone shouted, and a chorus of mostly male onlookers began chanting that refrain as Smanta continued moaning and writhing, her tits jumping in sync with Tyler’s thrusting. Some of the spectators, mostly female, feigned embarrassed smiles, but no one looked away.

“She needs something in her mouth too,” Daryl exclaimed in an off-camera vocalization, and another frat brother, one of the supporting actors, approached the table next to Smanta’s head, opening his fly and whipping out his hard dick. She looked at it with a vacant expression, then opened wide to accept the latest offering, slurping eagerly as Tyler continued fucking her. More cheers erupted from the audience.

The two female supporting actors on a sofa against the wall began their parts, falling on their knees before their “dates,” while other students who had not even been cast for such parts started making out from sheer inspiration. There were more feigned looks of embarrassment, but no one in the crowd looked away for long, as they smiled, laughed and cheered with raunchy comments. This could serve as a sociological study of crowd dynamics, I thought.

Daryl was a blur of motion, capturing the action from different camera angles, shooting Tyler’s heaving buttocks as he thrust, moving to one side to record his dick plunging in and out of Smanta’s pussy, then adjusting for a closeup of her sucking off the other frat brother and swinging around for a shot of the other couples and a pan of the enthusiastic crowd.

The frat bro being sucked had been briefed on how to play his part, and did it well. He grimaced, yelled and withdrew, shooting globs of spunk into Smanta’s open mouth and onto her pretty face to mock screams of terror from female onlookers and cheers from males. Daryl moved in for a closeup of the girl’s pretty cum-smeared face. She smiled dreamily for the camera. Her tongue shot out to lick jizz from her lips.

It was time for a change of perspective. Tyler withdrew his swollen dick and lowered the girl’s legs to the floor. Smanta was shaky as he guided her to the side of the table and directed her to lower her upper body onto its surface with her feet on the floor. He then entered her again, from behind. This gave Daryl more camera angles to exploit. Someone held a cup of beer for Tyler, who sipped from it as he continued to thrust. The crowd chanted, “Doggie, doggie, doggie,” and there were a few faux bow wows. Another cup of beer was held to the lips of his semi-prone partner, who took a couple of swigs, although it was difficult for Smanta to swallow in that position.

“I’ll give her something easier to get her lips around,” yelled another supporting actor, stepping forth and unzipping his fly. More cheers came from the onlookers as Smanta went to work on the latest offering. ankara escort bayan It was not long before the second frat brother followed the example of the first, creaming into Smanta’s open mouth and on her face, Daryl zooming in from only a foot or so away. Still more cheers erupted from the group. Smanta choked a little, and someone brought a fresh cup of beer to help her wash down the latest infusion.

I admit to being excited, with a tent in my pants, even as I wondered why a girl so good looking would subject herself to such a demeaning public display. Any number of guys — myself among them — would have gladly taken care of her needs in private. A case of money talks, I supposed, still wondering whether whatever she was earning could be worth it.

Then, as Daryl was shooting the closeup of Smanta’s cum-covered face, she did something showing she truly was in “ecstasy” with this activity. She reached out with both hands to unzip his fly, worked his dick out and began pumping. It was already semi-hard and quickly came to full attention. As Daryl adjusted focus, Smanta began sucking her fourth dick of the night.

“Lights, camera, action,” someone in the gathering cried out, to general laughter. Daryl tried to suppress his own enthusiasm as he shot a point of view angle of himself being sucked. Someone began singing the old sea song, “Blow the Man Down,” and the crowd joined in. Daryl panned the chorus, then swung the lens toward Tyler, who was laughing and singing as well while continuing to hump, and the two of them slapped palms in a high five, Daryl trying to keep the camera fairly steady with one hand. Smanta continued sucking vigorously, and it was not long before Daryl’s eyes glazed and the camera jerked a little as he grimaced.

Showing great stage presence as well as oral technique, Smanta slowed her rhythm and looked up at the lens, releasing Daryl’s dick from the embrace of her mouth and opening wide to show a profusion of creamy, white stuff. She closed her mouth again and visibly swallowed, then took Daryl’s dick back into her mouth and began licking it clean, continuing to look up at the camera with those wide eyes. Cheers showed the audience’s appreciation. One guy exclaimed he was going to change his major to cinematography, to general laughter.

All the sexual excitement brought Tyler to his own limits, and he made a few tell-tale grunts, recapturing Daryl’s attention. The cameraman withdrew from Smanta’s mouth, and despite the immobilizing handicap of his projecting prick, scrambled to the head of the table to film the last few thrusts. Tyler shut his eyes, exclaimed and emptied himself into the girl, then withdrew and thrust his hands above his head in a Rocky victory pose, his shiny prick at full mast, to more cheers and a hand of applause. Smanta remained on her feet, still bent over the table as Daryl kneeled to shoot a closeup of the cream pie oozing from her.

The camera light dimmed, signaling the finale of an epic performance in the annals of lust and higher education. Cheers and applause died away as students began exchanging glances, some of them signaling sexual desire, others unsure, perhaps revealing some genuine embarrassment over how enthusiastically they had reacted to the show. A few girls may have been worrying how their cheering would look to folks in the old neighborhood if the production were to go viral on the internet and an e-mail link found its way there.

As the crowd dispersed to go about its partying, Daryl came over and handed me his camera to hold while he tucked away his softening dick. “Bro, that was sheer serendipity. I’m usually shooting other people getting their rocks off, not making a selfie being sucked off,” he said. “She really knew how to use her mouth.” Tyler joined us, still naked, also at half mast, and there was another high five between him and Daryl.

“What happens now with her?” I asked, motioning toward the girl, still draped over the table, eyes glazed, vacant smile in place.

“I’ll put her in one of the bedrooms over there to let her sleep it off, and take her home later,” Tyler said.

As we looked in the direction indicated, a guy and girl opened the door of a room and hurried in. “Looks like we inspired some more action,” Tyler laughed.

Daryl looked at the room, its door partly ajar, and said, “I’m going to see if those two are willing to provide some background shots that I can splice into the video. Why don’t you mix, John? Maybe you can find some horny bimbo and get taken care of. If so, I may be able to get you in the video too, with a small stipend as a supporting actor.” He nudged me and winked.

During the next hour I consumed a couple more cups of beer, but had my usual lack of success with girls. The hotter ones were pairing off with guys to get it on, either in the sleeping rooms of the frat house or their own dorm rooms. Others were being worked on, in hopes they would succumb. Daryl continued to film “background” scenes, one or two about as raunchy as the main event. Eventually we split for our sincan escort native campus, Daryl saying he had enough for at least one more video that he could sell with little overhead, thanks to the unpaid amateur extras.

Tyler had apparently taken the new star to rest on her laurels somewhere, as she was no longer sprawled on the table.

* * *

A few days later, I was between classes in the student union, looking over notes to prepare for a test. The union was crowded, with seating at a premium. A girl stopped at my small two-person table, and asked if the empty seat across from me was taken.

“All yours,” I responded.

As she sat I made a quick appraisal: Good looking, tall, long honey blonde hair, wide eyes, a promising body beneath her buttoned blazer. She looked familiar. In one of my classes? As she spread out some books before her, I went back to my notes, but sneaked a few more surreptitious glances, trying to place her.

Suddenly, it clicked — the girl from the party! The star!

The only difference was that her hair was down, flowing about her shoulders. During the production, it had been held back with a ribbon, probably so it would not get in the way during blow jobs.

She was studying something, lips pursed, brow furrowed. I wondered if I should attempt conversation. But why? Did I really want to get involved with a whore? Okay, maybe not officially a whore, but wasn’t a porn star pretty much the same thing — taking money for making a show of sex for popular entertainment, not even discreet about it like a high priced hooker would be.

But, hell, who was I to be picky? I was super horny and didn’t have any prospects. A hit here, even with a porn slut, might get me started again, help build some self-confidence, make it easier to score with conventional girls.

“Looks like a challenge. What are you studying?” I asked.

“Western Civ,” she replied, pouting. “Medieval political maneuverings in England and France. I can’t keep the factions straight.”

As it happened, this was one of my easier courses, and I had a fair understanding of the period from independent reading. I gave a short explanation, summarizing the major actors and their feudal vassals and enemies, domestic and foreign. She asked a couple of questions, made a few annotations to her notes, drew a couple arrows.

“I wish you were my instructor,” she said, smiling. “You make it seem so clear.” She had a great smile, and those big, blue eyes evoked the image of a swimming pool. I decided to dive in.

“Who do you have?” I asked. “My professor is Dr. Drake.”

She had the other guy. “But we do have that common lecture hall — the profs switch off conducting it,” she noted. “I think I’ve seen you there. By the way, my name is Amanda Beaufort — Mandy.” She extended her hand.

“John Drew,” I said, taking it and shaking awkwardly.

So, “Smanta” was now Mandy. Her speech had really been slurred the other night. I was thinking what to say next and how to work up to getting her phone number when I noticed Daryl approach our table, winking at me.

“How goes it, Bro,” he asked, then shifted his gaze to appraise the girl. His face quickly changed from friendly curiosity to surprise, as he blinked, grinned and remarked, “Wow, imagine running into you again so soon. How are you feeling? Recovered from all that activity?”

Mandy smiled quizzically. “Have we met?” she asked.

“Can’t say we’re exactly strangers,” Daryl replied. “You know, I’m always looking for a good performer. If you get around this way often, maybe you’d like to do a party vid I’m lining up at one of our sororities.” He held up his small video camera, which he often carried.

Her seemingly perplexed look deepened, brow furrowing as her smile thinned. “I’m kind of booked. You’ll have to talk to my agent,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes slightly, then looked at me and added, “Well, I have to go, John. Thank you again for your help. See you at lecture hall.” She gathered her materials and rose, motioning Daryl to take her chair, and walked quickly away.

“Well, you may finally be about to hit pay dirt,” Daryl said to me, taking the chair. “You’re on a first name basis, I see. Does she take courses here? I thought she went to State.”

“She goes here, and thanks for chasing her away,” I replied, sarcastically.

“Weird chick, though,” Daryl went on. “She got a wad of cash and a wad of spunk from me a few days ago, but now acts as if she doesn’t recognize me and blows me off when I offer her another job.” He shook his head. “But she remembered you?”

“I don’t think so. We exchanged names just before you showed.”

“Well, she was whackadoo stoned. Probably everybody and everything was a blur. Anyway, keep up the good work, Bro. You can’t miss on this one, according to Tyler. She’s been around.”

Strange, I thought. If this brief encounter had been my first with Mandy, she wouldn’t have struck me as a wild one. She seemed friendly but low key, even reserved, not like the girl I had witnessed fucking and sucking off guys for the camera. Anyway, she was a good looking babe, and I agreed with Daryl that maybe this was my opportunity to get some relief from extreme sexual tension, while building up confidence to improve my record on the social circuit.

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