He pulled out of me, slowly, reluctantly. He didn’t want to let go, and I admit I didn’t want him to either. I wasn’t ready for what just happened. How could I be? What just transpired was a cross between fire and ice and I still couldn’t decide if it was better to be burned or cooled.
By the looks of the crew, they weren’t exactly prepared for what we did on screen either. No one was moving. No one was putting down their cameras or running to hand me a robe and towel. Even Marco, the assistant director, was staring at us with his mouth agape. I knew Wilder changed the scene, but this shared feel of shock and awe seems more related to how deep Wilder and I went with the story. They were seeing the real story for the first time. And I think, so was I.
He pushed off me, catching my eye. He looked panicked, almost worried. I could tell by the way his mouth opened slightly and then closed quickly he had something he wanted to say to me. But this wasn’t the time or place. We were both sweaty, exhausted, and confused. I was sore, too, in a good way, but still sore.
I stood, waiting for someone to respond to me. Elise approached slowly, handing me a soft blue robe from my dressing room and asked if I needed her help removing the dark, smoky eye makeup or cleaning myself off. I politely declined. What I needed was a hot bath and a quick trip out of this place. A million thoughts were running through my head, but sticking around here was the last thing I needed to sort it all out.
I slipped on my flip-flops and walked straight towards my dressing room. Luckily the door had a lock, my only way to know I could be alone. I tossed the robe on the vanity and headed straight towards the shower, being sure to turn it on the highest setting I could stand. This wasn’t time for a cold bath, though the way my body was still aroused and ready, maybe dousing myself in some ice water would be the best way for me to ease out of whatever spell I was under.
As I stepped in the steamy bathroom, I was able to take my first real, deep breath since we started. Not even that, since I walked through the door all thunder and lightning. I replayed the moments on camera in my head, remembering the way he tied me, how his hands softly wrapped around my neck, how I didn’t budge or fuss at it. Was that really my last porn – me tied up and submissive while he took me?
I couldn’t help but feel a bit mournful. It only lasted a few short months, but this was really the end of an era. It wasn’t even that I was done screwing Wilder or that our wild romance was coming to a close at his undoing. It was that something so powerful, so transformative had fallen to ruins, as well. This wasn’t a career for me, or a way to live. This was a way to pay my debts, to save up for my future. But it quickly became a place for me to explore the wilder Kylie that was stuffed away for so long.
My throat closed a bit as I could feel a thick, imaginary mass traveling up from my stomach to my throat. I let it out, a croak of cries. Why did Wilder have to be my stepbrother? Why did he have to ruin our family for his own selfish means? Why did I have to find out? I wanted to go back to that moment in the hotel when I woke up to the heat of his body pressed against me, where it seemed our future was ahead of us and our past was slowly fading behind.
But now my future was returning to my old life where I had to be Kylie the college student, Kylie the introverted nerd, Kylie the pseudo-virgin. I wanted to grasp onto this life with every ounce of force I could muster. But I knew it was time for me to let go. All things must pass – good or bad.
I washed the lather off my body and ran my fingers through my damp hair. The water stopped as I reached my arm out from the plastic shower curtain to the ground below in search of a towel. I felt a brush of a familiar hand as it gave me my white plush towel. I shrieked a bit as I called out towards him, “What the fuck are you doing in here, Wilder? I thought I locked the door.”
“I’m the director. I own this sound stage. I've got a key, Kylie.” He sounded bemused, almost lighthearted. It only grated on my nerves more.
I wrapped the towel around my body as I inhaled and exhaled before stepping out to face him. He was standing between the door to the bathroom and the dressing room, his arm propping him up against the white trim.
I looked him dead in his sky blue eyes, trying not to melt further down. I tried to brush off the part of me that wanted to rip his clothes off and centered on the part that wanted to rip his face off. “What do you need? You already have all my information. Do I need to sign something? Give a formal resignation?”
He looked crestfallen, as if he expected something different of me. But nothing had changed from me wanting to quit him and the business because of some hot, amazing sex. At least, I tried to pretend it hadn’t. He covered a cough as he cleared his throat. His hand played with the discarded tie he had draped around his neck. His typically booming, deep voice had diminished as he said, “I don’t know why you’re doing this. I’m telling you the truth, Kylie. Every bit of it. I'm sorry for what I had to do and what happened. But I’m not the only reason why our parents split. And I can’t help it if my dad refused to help your mom out after the divorce.”
My forehead creased in frustration as I narrowed my eyes towards him. “They were happy, Wilder! We were happy! You ruined that. It’s not like you stole a stapler from his office. You stole $400,000 and, not only that, you did it for drugs! What kind of son does that?”
He took two steps towards me, his arms raised in defense. I stepped back quickly, nearly hustling it straight back to the bathroom in a bit of fear. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I also didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He retreated when he saw my eyes widen and my hands grasp for the door behind me. “I was the kind of son who thought he knew what was best. I don’t pretend that what I did was right. It wasn’t. But I paid my dues. My dad is being taken care of. And if you want me to take care of you and your mom, I’ll do that, as well. I can change your world.”
I laughed. He was crazy. He couldn’t change anything. Everything was already in ruins. “You mean change my world by forcing me to do porn? By anal fucking me in front of a crew of people I barely know just to have it broadcast to anyone willing to pay the five dollars to download it? What kind of change is that?”
He stuttered as he tried to keep up with me. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying that that point. I just wanted to hurt him, to make him feel every bit of anger and disappointment I felt when the truth was told. If I had to burn, I was pulling him in the flames.
“Kylie,” he whispered, trying to contain himself, “I never, ever made you do porn. Everything you did with us and with Daniel’s production company was all you. You wanted the money, and you can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it, as well. I watched you become a totally different person both onscreen and off screen.”
Wilder was right. I wanted it as much as he did, maybe even more at some points. Still, I couldn’t let him know that. I spat back my response, “You don’t know me or who I was. I had a great life before you walked back into it. I was the top student. I was on my way to becoming something great. With you, all I have is a dead end. I don’t want that anymore. I’m turning around and going back to the old Kylie.”
He shuffled his feet, his hands finding his pockets. He reminded me of a hangdog being punished. It was a total shift from the Wilder who always stood firm, who never batted an eye. I was getting to him. He turned towards the door, but as his hand hit the knob, his shoulders squared up and he spun to say, “I need you to trust me.”
“What did you say?”
He already asked me to trust him during the porn shoot, and now he was repeating himself. Wilder was that record that kept skipping the same old seconds over and over again. “I need you to trust me like you did today. And don’t tell me that you didn’t or that you don’t. What you did out there should have showed you that we're not just business partners or fuck buddies. We’re something more powerful. Nothing you believe today about our family or what I did is going to change that. I need you to trust me that you can get over that, and it will be worth it.”
As he spoke, his resolve was returning. He didn’t want to be hurt. He didn’t want to hurt me. But most of all, he thought he knew better. But I wasn’t convinced.
“It’s never going to happen.” I turned, grabbing the robe off the floor. I looked back to add my final remark, “You know where to mail my check. I expect it soon.”
I picked up my bookbag and began throwing all of my belongings into it. I grabbed my makeup, my lotions, and a notebook I used to study with when I was on set. I searched the bathroom for my soap and shampoo, still damp from my shower. Everything that was mine, down to a sample of perfume I got from a trip to the mall is coming with me. I wanted no traces that I was ever here left behind. The memories could stay just between him and me.
I tossed on my old, tattered jeans and tossed on the t-shirt, not caring about putting on a bra or panties. With one swing, the backpack was on and I was out the door, pushing past everyone, and not daring to catch anyone’s eyes.
Elise, my makeup artist, ran behind me, calling my name lowly in an attempt to not draw any more attention. I stopped in my place, a tinge of anger washing over me. She handed me a card with her name and number as she meekly said, “If you need any help or someone to talk to, call me. I know this is your last shoot, and I know you mean it. But just know I’ll be thinking of you.”
I looked down at the white piece of stock paper with the black printed name centered in the middle. I tossed it in my pocket before bringing her in for a quick hug. It was a reminder that my time doing porn hadn’t been all bad. Maybe I could make a real friendship out of this business after all. Still, I didn’t linger long as I pulled away and turned towards the door.
A stagehand held it for me as I walked out into the bright Las Vegas sunshine, a stark contrast from the dark and damp environment of the soundstage. It was stifling, as it always was living in the middle of a desert, but today felt different. The heat was a lighter, the sun my redeemer, the lights that were starting to shine bright in a neon haze beacons, not warning signs.
I walked towards the busy street right off the strip and waited for a taxi to notice me. When I finally hailed one, I was relieved to have a quiet, non-chatty driver. It gave me a moment to focus on the rest of my day. I was still the college girl with final exams and presentations on the way. And as I pulled out my cell from my backpack, apparently college was literally calling. I had two missed phone calls from the school.
I pressed play on one of the voicemails left from the advisor’s office. A familiar voice filled my headset as it announced itself, “This call is for Kylie. Kylie, this is James Iverly with the university’s academic counselor office. An urgent matter regarding your student status has come to my attention, and I need you to stop by my office immediately. Your professors have been instructed to not admit you to class until you've spoken to me. My office is open until 6pm today. I expect to see you then.”
I deleted the message as my mind wandered off. I had these messages all the time when I struggling to pay tuition, but this wasn’t the university’s financial office calling with a third warning or a note about how they were restricting access to the library until I forked over my deposit. This was my counselor taking me out of classes. What in the world could be forcing his hand to do that? I was the perfect student – straight As, never missed a class. Even with my second job as a porn star, I still managed to maintain it all.
I tapped on the driver’s shoulders and directed him to the office of my advisor. I certainly wasn’t dressed to meet up with him, but if I waited until later today or put it off until tomorrow, I’d just drive myself crazy not knowing what was going on. I tied up my still-wet blonde hair, ran to a bathroom and slipped on my bra, and headed to the office looking a bit out of sorts. Looking around at the staff, I felt as if I had walked into a lion’s den. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and a few were hunched over, whispering to one another. My stomach turned. This wasn’t just about my tuition bill or a missed paper. And I certainly wasn’t getting an award.
The secretary greeted me as I was about to walk in. She was dressed in a pink sweater with her hair tied back stiffly. As she stood in front of the door, I had a feeling she was attempting to block me. “May I help you?” she asked me sternly. “Mr. Iverly is currently indisposed.”
“He’s expecting me. I was told to come to his office as soon as possible.” I gave her my name, gulping down worry and anticipation. She eyed me suspiciously, like all the other workers here before calling on her desk phone. I could hear his voice on the other side of the door ushering me inside.
When I opened the door, the man who greeted me looked off. I had known Mr. Iverly for almost three years now. But today he was looking far from the polished professional who always greeted me as a top, promising student. Today, he was sweaty, his blond spiky hair messed up, and his jacket laying on the carpeted floor of his office. A sliver of his blue button up shirt was sticking out from the zipper of his black slacks. I eyed a couple of discarded tissues in the wastebin. Oh no.
He ushered me to the seat, lingering behind me for a long, agonizing moment. When he took a seat behind the oak desk, he reached down and tossed across the desk a familiar green and white binder. He cleared his throat before asking me, “Do you know what this book is, Kylie?”
“Yes, sir. It’s the College Standards Guide. I received one when I was a freshman.”
“Then you know what it says, am I right? Let me turn you attention to page twelve.” He opened the book and thumbed through the pages. A section was highlighted, making itself known among the black and white pages. “Please read this to me.”
I felt like a child as I pulled the book closer to my face. I hadn’t been asked to read out loud since grade school. He was really getting off with this power trip. “Students of the International Relations Program are expected to be representatives of their school at all times, including in non-academic or university sponsored activities.” My heart beat heavy in my chest as I started to understand. The next few sentences sealed my fate, “Any egregious activity that interferes with academic pursuits or the integrity of the program will result in immediate removal from the university and a partial, prorated refund of tuition.”
Mr. Iverly nodded his head as I finished and then turned the screen of his computer around. I gripped onto the wooden chair as I instantly recognized the pink, girlish font and the black background. Wilder’s Girls flashed in large letters as a picture of me with my mouth open, swallowing Wilder’s cum, caused me to look away. He turned the screen back towards him before asking, “I assume by your reaction that this is really you. A student in the program alerted us of this two weeks ago.”
His words shocked me, turning me red with anger. I burst out, “I really don’t think it’s the business of anybody in the program. I'm not hurting anyone.”
His eyes squared in on me, glancing over my body. I was not dressed like the porn star in the photo with her tight white tank top and her dark red lipstick. Yet, he couldn’t help taking in the curves of my breasts in this black t-shirt. He responded slowly, measuring his words, “Kylie, besides putting yourself in danger, you're putting our program in a spotlight in which we would not like to be in. That is why the academic committee has agreed that we no longer believe you're a good fit for the program or the university.”
I stood up; his eyes still followed me, this time glancing at my ass. “Mr. Iverly, you cannot be serious. I'm the best student this program has ever had. You told me this yourself. I'm doing what I’m doing precisely because I don’t have the tuition money. I had to do something since the school refused to give me any more scholarship money. You’ve got to understand that!”
He leaned back in his leather chair as he said, “I understand that, but many students struggle to afford college. They don’t go about paying for it by degrading themselves on camera. I’m sorry, Kylie, but this is it. This is our final decision. There will be no further chances or appeal process. You may, if you like, sit for finals and leave in good standing, but that’s it.”
I didn’t know what to do, my mind completely blank. I placed my hands on the desk, leaning over the paperwork on his desk to get closer to him. My blonde hair dangled at my side. I cried out to him, “Please, sir. I quit today. I'm not going back there. I will do anything…anything to stay a student here. There must be something we can do.”
I understood the meaning of my own words. I hated the idea of flaunting myself to him, but I needed this. I would be willing to go this far to keep holding on to my dream. After all that I had lost today, this could not be added to my pile.
His back arched farther. As I looked at his tight trousers, I noticed the indent of his pants was raised. He was turned on. He was thinking about it. But suddenly, his face fell as his chair jerked back forward and he fumbled to turn off his screen. He stammered as he began to dial on his phone. “I’m sorry, Kylie, but you're no longer a student at this college after this week. We wish you the best in your, erm, endeavors.”
I took my cue, grabbing my backpack, and walking out the door. I wasn’t giving him a chance to embarrass me by escorting me out. If I was going to grieve, I was going to do it on my time and on my terms.