I’m nervous as I hold his hand and lead him toward the back of the club. Can I really perform the next part of the script? Ashley’s so much more confident than I am. She’s bold and adventurous, especially when it comes to sex. I’m nothing like her in that regard.

But when Jackson and I were on the dance floor – his body pressed against mine, his hands on my hips then caressing my bottom – I felt something strange start to happen. I began to feel more comfortable in the role I was playing, more at ease with the woman I was pretending to be. The lines I had to deliver came to me more naturally. And as I wrapped my arms around his neck, and whispered into his ear the naughty things I wanted, I felt strangely comfortable in my own skin.

I guess when you’re dancing with someone as strikingly handsome as him, it’s hard not to feel a rush of sexual energy. But what I have to do next will be taking this performance to a whole new level.

I’m suddenly anxious. Can I really do what’s asked of me? Part of me wants to cancel the arrangement we have. But there’s another part of me, speaking to me with a voice that I never knew I had, that wants to keep going.

Deep down, in the dark recesses of my soul, I always wanted to be someone like her – someone adventurous, bold; someone whose comfortable in her body and knows how to enjoy it.

Just like Ashley discovered the power of her sexuality when Jackson painted her portrait, I too am finding a change taking place inside me. It’s like there’s a naughty part of me that I never knew existed. And the more time I spend pretending to be Ashley, the more confident that side of me becomes.

When we finally arrive at the unisex bathroom, that strange sense of calm I felt on the dance floor returns.

I want to move forward. I want to test the boundaries of who I thought I was.

My next lines of dialogue fall naturally from my lips. They don’t sound like something scripted for me to recite.

“I need to get fucked, Jackson. I need you to fuck me hard. I’ve wanted this ever since you painted me in your studio. Let’s see if you’re as good with your cock as you are with your hands.”

My words had their desired effect. I can see the lust emanating from him.

As I push open the bathroom door, I’m shocked to see several people mingling around. This is like no other bathroom I have been in. There are men and women talking and laughing. Then I notice a few people snorting lines of coke off the bathroom counter.

According to the script, I’m supposed to find an empty stall. I swallow, as a nervous tension quickly rises inside me.

I’m about to become someone I never imagined.

And I’m about to do something in public I never had the courage to even fantasize about.

The last bathroom stall is available.

Jackson and I step inside.

He closes the door behind him.

I can hear the other people in the bathroom talking above the music blasting from the dance floor. Jackson and I exchange a heated look as I prepare myself for what comes next. This is the part when I truly cross a line. This is the part when I stop being me and transform into her.

I take a deep breath, realizing the only way to move forward and continue with the scene is to just plunge in.

I shove Jackson against the wall and begin kissing him passionately. My hands run down his broad chest and over his flat stomach, ripping open his shirt. One of the buttons from his shirt flies off. For a split second, I almost apologize. But then I realize Ashley never apologized. She just took what she wanted. And she wanted him.

I do too.

I run my hands over his imposing chest and flat stomach. If I didn’t know Jackson was a world-famous artist, I would’ve thought he was a model. He’s that handsome and physically fit.

“I need you inside me,” I breathe into his ear. I fumble with his belt and finally slide it off his pants. I then unzip his fly and reach for his stiff cock. I tug on his member. As it grows larger in my hand, I can’t help but be impressed by his girth. I’ve never been with a man so large, so blessed.

I wonder what it’s going to feel like to have such a massive cock inside me.

But Jackson has other plans.

“Not so fast beautiful,” he whispers. He gently pushes me back, away from him. He kisses me and I savor his tongue inside my mouth.

“I want to taste you first,” he says in a low growl.

He drops to his knees. I look down. He’s staring at me with intense desire and lust. His hands slowly glide up my legs and lift the hem of my tight black dress over my hips. He presses his nose against the fabric of my panties and sniffs. “You smell wonderful,” he says looking up at me. “And I bet you taste even better.”

He glides my panties down my hips until they drop to my ankles. He presses his mouth against my sex and begins licking me. The sensation of his tongue against my throbbing clit is instantaneous. I lean my head back against the stall wall and press his head forward, urging him on. My body begs for more of his touch. I’m so enjoying the sensation of his mouth between my legs, that for a brief moment, I forget that I am actually an actress playing a role.

As Jackson holds onto my waist and makes love to my pussy with his mouth, I utter my next line of dialogue. “I love your mouth, Jackson. But now I really, and I mean really, need your cock.”

Jackson gives my clit a tender kiss and then slowly gets back on his feet. When our eyes meet, he crushes my mouth with another long passionate kiss.

“If my cock is what you want,” he growls. “That’s what you’re gonna get.”

Jackson reaches down and lifts my legs so they wrap around his waist. As he stares deep into my eyes, I feel the head of his cock press against my swollen entrance. He then eases himself forward and fills me.

I gasp. He’s so big.

But I want every inch.

As he slowly pushes all of him inside me, he leans forward and kisses me again.

“You feel good,” he breathes heavily.

“You feel better,” I gush.

He increases his thrusts, so my backside slaps against the bathroom stall. Some of the people in the bathroom giggle as they hear what’s going on. I suddenly feel a little embarrassed, but as Jackson continues pounding away inside me, any sense of shame quickly vanishes.

It feels so good that I can’t be self-conscious.

I decide to just let myself go and enjoy the role he has hired me to play. After all, what is there to complain about? I’m getting fucked by one of the hottest, most talented men on the planet. Kristi is right. Things could be a lot worse.

“Don’t stop fucking me,” I gasp. “Don’t ever stop fucking me, Jackson.” I say it loudly so everyone in the bathroom can hear.

Jackson lets out an appreciative growl. “You feel so fucking good, Ashley.”

At the sound of her name, I realize this is all an illusion. But as he continues to drive himself inside me… filling me with his manhood… taking my body to a joyous plane of existence that I’ve never experienced… I realize I don’t care.

This may be an illusion, but it feels fuckin’ amazing.