CHAPTER FIVE
Stryke
Shit, our stepsister was so fucking dirty. It was unbelievable how this turn of events had come to pass, giving new meaning to the words “perversity” and “irony.” Truth is truly stranger than fiction.
Ralph, our man on the ground in New York, had called, his voice rough and harsh.
“I got one for you,” he said with little introduction. “You’re going to want to see this one.”
Now my brother and I are what you’d call adult entertainment producers. We’re still students at USC, but we enrolled in a class called “A Brief History of Porn” and immediately knew that our future lay in the adult industry. It’s not that we’ve given up on mainstream film. It’s just that mainstream shit is so fucking expensive, requiring a million sign-offs, a million dollars, a million permits, whereas with porn you can experiment relatively cheaply.
So we’d dived into the trade with gusto, trying out new techniques, dialogue, all that shit, while making a shit ton of money. Flesh sells, I’m telling you.
Of course, one of the most important aspects of any film is casting and in porn, it’s even more crucial to ultimate success or failure. We source girls from all over and are always looking for new talent. It’s just the nature of the biz you know? Young, nubile girls are always sought after, and we’re developing a naughty schoolgirl series preliminarily titled, “Dirty for Professor X.”
So we’ve developed a network of scouts all around the country, mostly club managers who kept their eyes open for girls with the right looks and pizzazz. Ralph, for better or worse, is one of our best. It’s partly because he’s in NYC where there’s a deep pool of talent, but also because he’s experienced. He knows what we like and what we don’t. In: big boobs, curvy bodies, slutty attitudes. Out: Drugs, dependencies, daddy issues.
So I’d been eager to see the footage. We’d seen a lot of audition tapes recently, but most girls don’t have the innocent, wide-eyed look necessary to portray a nubile co-ed. Instead, most had that worn-out, used-up look, which in porn is sadly common.
I clicked the video icon and my screen blurred before sharpening, focusing on beautiful girl with luscious auburn hair and a curvy body to-die for.
I bolted straight up in my chair. Could it be? Holy shit!
The performer was still staring uncertainly at the camera as I shouted for my brother.
“Sax!” I yelled. “Get in here!”
My brother strode over from the other room, busy in his job looking at “modeling shots” from some of our hopefuls. Guys are gross because they send unsolicited penis photos, but girls in the industry can be even worse -- we’ve seen interior photos of vaginas, anuses, deep creaming, you name it. And when you’ve seen as much as we have, it’s not even sexy anymore, it’s just a job, clinical almost, totally detached.
“What?” Sax growled. “This better be good.”
But when he saw the face on screen, his jaw dropped, and blindly, he reached for a chair, pulling up to the monitor.
“Holy fucking shit,” I managed. “It’s Melanie,” I choked, pressing play again.
And fuck, our new sister was absolutely magnetic. At first she was stilted and shy, moving robotically, but it only lent authenticity to the whole thing. She was the original nubile co-ed, doe-eyed and innocent. But it got even better. Soon enough, she warmed up to the camera and was working her tits and ass like a pro, flashing bits here and there, teasing the camera, letting us dream, our dongs stiff and hard.
“Hey big boy,” she cooed, while slurping on a nipple. “You like?”
Yes, my brother and I liked very much, judging from the bulges at our groins. Fuck, the little girl was sexy!
I heard a low moan from Saxon when Melanie began fucking herself with the dildo. Her snatch was so tight, so wet, that the dildo could hardly stay in, she had to shove forcefully with her wrist, that big piece of rubber coated and dripping with her fluids. Her scene ended with a magnificent orgasm, her little snatch twisting and turning on the monster, her head thrown back as she gave the sweetest of whimpers, breasts heaving as liquids dripped onto the couch.
And as soon as the tape ended, I turned to my brother.
“We have to get her here,” I ground out.
“Fly her out immediately,” he agreed.