I lay naked on the bed, face to face with the Edge, gazing into his eyes as his hands moved up to my nipples. I flinched as he gripped them tightly between his fingers. He always lets go a second or two after I cry out in pain. And I always wonder – what if, somehow, I didn’t? Would he still know when to stop? I held my breath, waiting for that moment, the moment it passes from uncomfortable to unbearable. But – how strange! – that moment didn’t come. Instead of pain, I felt something… so intense… and it seemed to be spreading through my body like fire. I gasped when it reached that tiny core of me, shuddering and writhing with unexpected delight!

“You’re leaking,” said the Edge, showing me his fingers wet with milk from my nipples. “It’s like you ejaculated.”

I laughed weakly, rolling over.

“Did you bring your computer?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, as I rose to retrieve it. For a moment, I thought of telling him I’d changed my mind, that we didn’t have enough time, we couldn’t afford to waste it watching videos together. But I hadn’t carried this computer – along with an additional 20 kilograms of baby and pushchair – up six flights of stairs that morning just to bring it back home again unused.

I couldn’t explain why I’d been so reluctant to watch these videos of my birthday party. How could I be so afraid of what I might see? After all, I had been there, right at the heart of it. I knew what I had felt, and how it had been for me. But what if that were just a delusion? I had been blindfolded the whole time, after all. What if the reality was something quite different, in a way which would only become clear to me once I had seen it with my own eyes? ‎Something sordid, abject and degenerate – and not in a good way? I hate to go back on something I profess… but what if I hated it, once I saw what it had really been?

So that was one reason for my reluctance to watch the videos. The other reason was that, aside from being afraid of what the videos might reveal, I was also so excited, and intrigued, and aroused by the thought of it, that I wanted to draw it out as much as possible, to enjoy the anticipation for as long as I possibly could! And that was the main reason I had waited so long to watch those videos

I’m embarrassed, now, by how absorbed I was in the events unfolding on the screen. In other words: by myself. I think I mentioned, once before, how thrilling it was to watch a real-life porn starring the Edge and the lovely Annabel. But that was nothing compared to how it felt to watch one starring my very own self – only not my real self, which would have been embarrassing and borderline nauseating, but a wild and wanton, barely recognisable version of me. Just, really, the person I had always wanted to be.

One scene that stands out in my mind has me on all fours on the bed, with one man’s cock in my mouth while the other stood behind me, plunging his fingers deep into my ass, gazing somewhat hesitantly at the camera, as though seeking its approval. It’s quite funny, really, that those occasional, questioning glances at the camera lens are, for the most part, the only evidence of the Edge, who was standing behind it. And I had been completely oblivious to that, of course. And all at once these Sybian fucking machines seemed more like puppets than autonomous sex-bots – human puppets. And I was surprised to see how human they were, actually. Overwhelmed by the sensation of their unfamiliar cocks pumping in and out of me, I had been aware of nothing else, at the time – any gentler caress was completely lost on me. Now it was strange to see it, really. What did it mean?

I made an outlandish statement, recently, about how I’ve never had sex with a stranger. Outlandish, given my brief stint on AdultWork. So this statement certainly cannot be true. But it feels so true – why? At first I thought it was because of the days – sometimes weeks – of email contact I had with prospective clients before our actual meetings. (Due to circumstance, not some sort of “vetting” process – God knows I never did that!) But now I think it is just a retrospective interpretation of reality. All those “clients” eventually became friends, lovers or something similar, and so, looking back on those first meetings, it didn’t seem incongruous for there to have been some sort of connection there already. But maybe there is always a connection, inherent in the sex act itself? I mean, in a way, there can be no deeper connection, can there, between adults?

I could almost see, watching this video, why certain people might decide to forego actual “relationships” entirely, in favour of anonymous sexual encounters. I was thinking of Cherry Popper, hopping from one virgin escort to the next. Well, why not, if it can be so real? I could almost understand it. I could understand it.

But then the last scene drew to a close, with the last drops of come spilling out into my grateful mouth, and, like Cinderella at the stroke of twelve, I was transformed back into the cave-dwelling troll of my every-day existence.

“So, now that you have watched the videos,” began the Edge, as I lay nestled in his arms. “To whom will you show them?”

“Why – no-one, of course!” I exclaimed in horror.

“What a shame,” he lamented. “And what about that video of you giving me a blow-job? What did you tell that reader of yours who wanted you to send it to him?”

“Oh, well… I sent it to him,” I confessed.

“You what??” he demanded, slapping me sharply across the face.

“What’s the matter??” I protested, my eyes welling with tears as I gazed at him with admiration and lust. “You told me I could!”

“I didn’t.”


“There’s something you don’t know yet, about your birthday party,” he told me, with an evil little smile.

“What is it??”

“Out of the eight candidates I interviewed, I picked the two whom I thought were the least pre-possessing.”

“The least pre-possessing?! What the hell does that mean?”

How mortifying, I thought to myself moments later, from the soft, starched depths of the pillow he was using to drive my head down onto the bed and hold me still while his dick slammed into my ass from behind. The illusion was shattered. So they weren’t sex gods after all, but just a couple of dumb-asses. Sigh.

And yet, you know I couldn’t help but wonder… what about the other six??


3 thoughts on “I Know I’ve Been Out of Style

  1. Your birthday session was captured on video? How delicious that must be! I’m hoping you will post it and then we all can see you in action. And be actioned on


  2. Actually; ‘actioned on’ sounds more like what one does with an inter-office memo.

    One that is passed around for everyone in the firm to deal with………….ahhh; now it does sound like your dream date

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s