Aristippus - Vicky's Story

On the evenings he came to my room, I would sit on the bed totally naked, and after pleasing him the way he liked to be pleased, I would move to where I was kneeling beside him. And as I sucked him, he would run his fingers through my scarlet lower locks, and usually finger me until I came. I loved that, and at least it made me feel like we were having sex as a couple, not just me servicing him.

Our little affair came to an abrupt end about a year after our first tryst. I had just dropped the girls off at school; they were both going to school by then. As I walked into the kitchen, Maria said, "The Señora wants to see you de inmediato." My Spanish was getting better, so I knew what she meant, and the inference was not good.

As I walked into Margot's office, she was sitting at her desk staring at her laptop computer, and she was obviously angry. Seeing me standing in the doorway, she spun the laptop around and shouted, "What is this?"

It was me sucking her husband's dick. The video must have been made recently, and in their bedroom and in her bed. At least I had panties and my robe on, but there was no doubt who it was and what I was doing. I simply froze in fright. I turned white as a ghost, and if I had to pee, I'm sure I would have lost control of all bodily functions. I was speechless. I couldn't even utter a sound. Any words I tried to say in our defense, just froze in my throat. "Get out!" she screamed. "Get out of my house, and don't ever come back." Still momentarily locked in fear, with my eyes beginning to fill with tears, she picked up a book and threw it at me. "Get out, get out, get out!"

I ran to my room and started packing as fast as I could. Several minutes later, Maria appeared at my door and said, "Señora has called you a taxi."

"Thank you Maria," I said, wiping tears from my face. As soon as I was packed, I left the car keys and my credit card on the kitchen island, and I left through the garage. I was still crying as the taxi pulled up. The driver helped me put my bags in the trunk, and as I sat in the back seat crying, he drove several miles before turning around and asking, "Where to ma'am?"

I had no idea what to say, and finally wiping my face, I said, "A motel, an inexpensive motel, please."

There were no inexpensive motels within ten miles of the Blackstone's house. But I think understanding the situation, the driver dropped me off at a Best Western on the other side of Wilshire. About six hours later, Raymond texted me. 'Are you okay?' was all it said.

'I don't know what to do,' I texted back.

'I'm going to have a girl call you. Her name is Rebecca. Pickup when she calls,' he texted.

It was after four that afternoon when my phone finally rang. No name showed up, as the caller was not in my contacts list, but it had a 310 area code, so it was likely local. I was sitting in a diner not far from my motel, so after swallowing the last bit of burger I had in my mouth, I answered softly, "Hello."

"Vicky?" a female voice said.

"Yes," I answered.

"Hi, my name is Rebecca. Raymond Blackstone asked me to give you a call."

After clearing another lump in my throat, I said, "Yes, I know Raymond."

"He told me what happened, at least an abbreviated version. Do you have a place for the night?"

Trying not to start crying again, I said, "Yes, I'm at the Best Western near Wilshire. I don't know the city that well; that's all I know."

"Okay," she said. "Do you have a car?"

"No."

"Okay, I'm going to come pick you up. It will probably be after seven, and I don't know exactly where the Best Western is. But I'll call you when I get close. Okay?"

"Okay," I repeated. "Thank you."

I saved her number in my contacts and finished my burger. I then walked back to my motel and waited. It was closer to seven-thirty when she finally called. She had found the Best Western and was already in the parking lot. When I opened the door, I immediately felt better. She looked like someone who could help me and someone I could trust.

"Vicky?" she said as I opened the door.

"Yes, Rebecca - right?" I said.

She reached out to hug me, and as I responded, hugging her tightly, I broke into tears again.

Still hugging me, she said, "I think I need to get you a drink."

I untangled my arms from around her shoulders and stepping back, gave her a teary-eyed smile. She told me to grab my purse and took me to a nice neighborhood bar and bistro several miles away. Rebecca explained that she used to work for Raymond in his law office, and he was forced to fire her over allegations by Margot that they had been sleeping together.

"Was it true," I asked.

"Well, yes and no, but the damage was done. Raymond fired me to appease Margot," she explained as we started our second round of cocktails. "But we have remained friends, just friends at a distance - if you know what I mean."

After two rounds of drinks, which was a lot for me, Rebecca and I moved to the bistro dining room. She bought me dinner, and the conversation was very enlightening. What she understood from Raymond, was that the video had been recorded by a nanny cam. Apparently, it had been set up in their master bedroom before Margot had left for an out-of-town trip.

I told her in general terms what Raymond and I had been doing, and she only nodded knowingly. She didn't reveal what she and Raymond had been involved in, but it was probably something similar based on her facial expressions. I shared with her that I was glad the nanny cam hadn't been set up in my room, as it would have been more explicit. I also told her that we had been very careful to hide our affair. We were always careful not to leave any tale-tail evidence. I always did my own laundry. We covered Raymond's bed with towels. And for the gloves, I always disposed of them well off the property. So, I wasn't sure what tipped her off, but we both agreed that something did.

Rebecca then offered me a place to live. She explained that she had a two-bedroom apartment and was about to throw out her current roommate. So, if I could hang in there at the Best Western until the end of the month, I'd be welcome to move in with her. The issue was money; her apartment was $2,800 per month, and splitting it would be $1,400 per month to me. And at the moment, I didn't have a job.

"Do you have any money?" Rebecca asked.

"I have about $10,000 in savings. The Blackstones paid me pretty well, and other than a few new clothes and my cell phone, I didn't have any living expenses," I explained. "So, I can pay rent until I get a job, but I really need to buy a car."

"What job skills do you have?" Rebecca questioned.

"I'm afraid not much. I have three years of experience waiting tables in Las Vegas and four years as the Blackstone's nanny," I said. "That's about it."

For the next hour, we brainstormed solutions to my shaky future. Rebecca said that she would help me find a job. She also said that she had several friends in the used car business and that she'd ask them to find me a good used car. The conversation then turned to her current roommate, Karen. The issue was her boyfriend. Rebecca explained that she didn't mind Karen's boyfriend spending the night occasionally. As she admitted that she sometimes had overnight guests herself. But Karen's boyfriend was becoming a regular fixture in their small apartment, and as the old adage goes, Company is like fish; after three days, they both begin to smell. Besides, Karen was spending the night more and more at his place, so they might as well make it official and move in together.

It was only ten days until the end of the month, but the Best Western was still expensive, so I really appreciated Karen moving out and allowing me to move in five days early. Rebecca helped me get a job at a nice restaurant in the Melrose area, and another friend of hers helped me get a decent car that I could afford. Things were beginning to look up, except for one mistake. While working to secure the restaurant job in Melrose, I had texted old friends in Vegas looking for work history references. Somehow, that information had gotten back to Rob, and he immediately started texting me again.

As far as Rob was concerned, we were still a couple. And he knew that I had been working as a nanny in the LA area, but he didn't know where or for whom. But if I was now looking for a job, maybe the nanny gig was over, and we might have a chance of getting back together. After his third attempt to reach me, I finally texted him back. It was a mistake, and I knew it. But he kept telling me how much he loved me, that he had changed, and that he was sure we could make another go of it. I still wouldn't accept his calls, but we text back and forth. Rob promised that he had quit drinking and that he'd kept the same job for eighteen months, but that he was ready to move to California, if I would have him.

We never got into his cheating, for I'm sure he would lie about that. And besides, I was now also a cheater, and I didn't feel comfortable being the hypocrite that I had learned to hate as a teenager. So, after a month of sweet and persistent texts, I called him, and we talked for almost an hour on the phone. Reluctantly I gave him my new address, and he promised to be out to see me the following weekend.

Once he arrived, my heart melted all over again. I won't say it was the same as our first two years together, but it was close. I had forgotten how handsome he was, and stupidly, I invited him to spend the night with me the very first night he arrived. Rebecca knew better. She and I talked at length about my relationship with Rob, and she told me, Cheetahs don't change their spots. I understood, but again, the heart wants what the heart wants.

Rob lived with Rebecca and me for about a month, until Rebecca finally put her foot down. She didn't particularly like him. And besides, she and I had an agreement, no long-term guests. Rob, by that time, had gotten a job as a delivery driver for a liquor distributor. It was a decent job and certainly allowed him to learn the city. I thought it was ironic that he had given up drinking and had taken a job with a liquor wholesaler. But since he was making money, he moved out and found a room at a nearby youth hostel. It wasn't ideal, but it was just temporary until we could find our own place.

More than five months went by, and we were still no closer to finding a place than the day he first showed up in LA. The problem was paying the first and last month's rent in advance. Neither one of us could seem to save enough for that, and housing in LA is just fucking hard to find to begin with. Rebecca was okay with Rob spending the night in my room on weekends, as long as he was gone Monday mornings. So, during these five months, that was about the only intimacy we had together.

Around six months after Rob had moved to LA, he met me for dinner on one of my nights off. I usually worked four to eleven, five nights a week. He was giddy with excitement when he sat down and obviously had something he wanted to tell me. "What is it?" I said with a big grin.

"I've got an idea how we can make $2,000 in two hours," he gushed.

"Is it legal?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, it's legal," he said, surprised that I'd ask such a thing.

"Okay, what is it," I asked, still pretty skeptical.

"It's making a porn movie." And before I could say anything, he continued, "There's this company over in Chatsworth that films couples having sex. Just ordinary couples, like us. Not porn stars, nothing like that, just ordinary folks, doing what they normally do - only on camera."

He was just beaming, like he'd found the California gold rush or something. "No, I don't think so," I said, shaking my head.

"Ahh, come on Vicky. It's not like we don't do it every night we're together anyway. And this way, we get paid for it." He just couldn't believe I wasn't as excited about it as he was. "We'll be paid two thousand dollars, and it won't take two hours. Add that to the money we've already got, and we move into our own place together." He paused as I just stared at him. "Our own place Vicky. Isn't that what you want?"

It took him about three hours to wear me down, but I ultimately agreed. I don't know what I was thinking, but he had been reformed since moving to California, and maybe, just maybe, this would work.

The place was called Desperate Couples, and it was over in Chatsworth, the porn capital of America. We met with their production people on a Tuesday for the initial interview. There was this guy in his mid-forties and a woman, probably his wife. And as we all sat in their office and filled out paperwork, they chatted us up about our sex life. I couldn't believe the shit Rob was willing to tell them. It was like a porn church confessional. But as I filled out all the forms and papers, Rob just chatted away, revealing every detail of our sex life.

We were scheduled to shoot at nine the next morning. They gave a list of things to do to prepare and went over what to expect several times. When we arrived Wednesday morning, they were ready for us. We went over all the paperwork one more time. And they made it quite clear that we had to perform to get the money and that once they paid us, the recording was theirs. We had no input into the editing, distribution, sale, or anything else. We both agreed, one more time, and they took us into the studio.

Their version of a studio was little more than a small warehouse that had been made up to look like a bedroom. They sat us down at the foot of the bed and told us to just act natural. With the camera rolling (of course it was digital), the guy, Jeffery, and his wife, Wanda, spent about fifteen minutes interviewing us. It was all questions they already knew the answers to, but this time it was for the camera.

When the interview phase was over, Jeffery said, "Okay you love birds, get after it."

Rob immediately pushed me backward on the bed and began passionately kissing me. We were both still fully clothed, but he was humping my leg, and I could tell he wasn't getting hard. I tried kissing him back and being submissive, but nothing was happening in his pants. I'm pretty sure Jeffery was aware of the situation, as he finally said, "Okay Rob, take her top off."

Rob ran his hands under my shirt and started feeling me up. Which had always done it for him in the past, but this time there was still not much going on below his belt. I sat up and removed my top and unsnapped my bra. And seeing my naked tits, Rob ripped his shirt off as well. He returned to passionately kissing me, but I could tell he still wasn't getting an erection.

After another minute or two, I heard Jeffery say, "Okay you love birds, let's get naked."

I pushed Rob off of me, and as he sat up, I unsnapped the button on my pants and pushed them off my hips and down over my feet. At first, Rob just watched me, but then he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off as well. I was still wearing a thong, but Rob had pulled his shorts off along with his jeans. As Rob sat naked on the edge of the bed, I sat up and pushed him onto his back.

I now took over the action. Looking down between Rob's legs, all I could see was a huge patch of thick dark hair. I dropped my hand to his crotch, seeking to find his cock. And finding it hiding in the woods, I pulled it to the top and glanced down at it. As I held it between my fingers, it looked like a little baby mushroom. A little brown mushroom with a slit across the top. I bent over him and tried to suck his wiggly weenie into my mouth, but he still wasn't getting a hard-on.

Eventually, I sat up and looked at Jeffery, who was standing beside the guy with the camera. Jeffery gave me a look of frustration. "Okay kids, sometimes this happens."

Wanda now stepped forward. "Yeah, sometimes these things just happen," she said. Then turning to look directly at me, she said, "Okay, Vicky. We have two options here. You two can just get dressed, and we'll call it a day. Or, if you're willing to continue with another guy, we can bring in one of our on-staff talents."

"Do we still get paid?" I asked.

Jeffery took this one. "Well kids, if we call it a day, then no one gets paid - per the contract you signed. But if we bring in a replacement talent. Well, Vicky, you still get the sixteen hundred in your contract."

"Sixteen hundred," I repeated. "What about the two thousand?"

"The sixteen hundred is for the girl; the remaining four hundred is for the guy. And if he can't perform, well, he doesn't get paid," Wanda explained. "It's in your contract."

I was aware of what the contract said. They had gone over it verbally twice. So there really wasn't much confusion about that. I looked over at Rob, who was lying flat on his back with a sad puppy dog look on his face. Turning back to Wanda, I said, "Well, I'm here. So, who's the talent?"

Jeffery immediately said, "Chad's here." He then motioned for the cameraman to go find Chad.

Wanda then stepped forward and picking up Rob's blue jeans, handed them to him, and said, "Rob, you can sit over there and watch, or wait outside, whichever you prefer."

Rob slowly slid from the bed and redressed himself. Then without saying a word, he walked over to the chair against the side wall and took a seat. He never made eye contact with me, much less ask me which of the two options I preferred. Wanda then helped me get dressed so that we could start all over. About three or four minutes later, the cameraman walked back in, accompanied by a tall skinny dude in a gray tee-shirt and jeans.

"Vicky," Wanda said, "This is Chad - Chad, Vicky." Still sitting on the bed, I extended my hand to shake his, and the introductions were complete." The cameraman went back to behind the camera, and Wanda continued. "Vicky, we're going to start over from the beginning. It will just be Chad instead of Rob. We'll do an abbreviated version of the interview and then resume with the sex scene where you and Rob left off. Are you okay with that?"

I nodded my acceptance before Jeffery added, "Chad will wear a condom - just for everyone's protection."

Again, I nodded my understanding. "All of the action will be as we planned. You'll start off by sucking him, and then Chad will eat your pussy. We'll break for a second while he puts on the condom, and then we'll need at least three positions. Spooning, doggy, and then missionary. At that point, he'll pull off the condom for the money shot. Agreed?"

"Normally, we'll want him to shoot his load on your face. Is that okay?" Wanda asked. I slowly shook my head, no. "Well then, how about your tits?"

I agreed, and off we went. The interview was lame, as I'd never met this guy in my life. But we managed to get through it. I then sucked his cock as the script called for, and at least Chad was hard. Jeez, was he ever hard. No wonder they call him a talent. Then, as prescribed, we went through the three positions, all under the direction of Jeffery. After eating me for maybe four or five minutes, Jeffery said, "Okay Chad, fuck her."

He slid off the bed for a moment as he rolled the condom on. Then lying back down beside me, turned me onto my side and spooning behind me, lifted my leg, and entered me. I could tell they were all impressed by my full bush of red hair. Wanda said something about my fire crotch, and the whole crew agreed that their fans would love it. Chad screwed me in this position for several minutes until Jeffery said, "Okay, got it."

He and Jeffery then put me in the doggy position, first on all fours, and then after several more minutes, head down and ass in the air. In this position, Jeffery got within about six inches of my asshole with a handheld camera for a super closeup while Chad was fucking my pussy. I can see now why they had told us Tuesday when we met with them to be sure to shower really well after your morning poop. I didn't realize they would be inspecting my ass to see if I did it.