Barry's Sluts Ch. 01: Suzanna

She seemed suspect about his motives. It was understandable—with her looks, just about every man she met was probably interested in getting into her pants. And, while Barry certainly couldn't say he wasn't tempted—really, REALLY tempted—he was sincere about that not mattering to him.

And besides that, there was only one pussy that he was duly invested in, and it was waiting for him back in Chicago.

Still, he decided not to keep pushing. If she wasn't interested, she wasn't interested. "Well, just thought I'd ask," Barry said, turning to go. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow . . . "

"Wait," Suzanna called, typing quickly at the keyboard. Her eyes narrowed as she reconsidered his proposal.

"Fuck it. I guess hanging out can't hurt and I could go for some Italian," she said finally. "I'll pick you up again at six tonight. But, if we stay out past nine, I'm gonna have to cut it short. Vic'll be expecting me to come home after that. Also, if he gets mad when I tell him about this, then this is the last time, understand?"

"No problem," Barry nodded.

"Cool. I'll see you at six," she said, turning back to her monitor, and allowing Barry to take his leave.

******

This time, Barry was waiting at the door when Suzanna's convertible pulled up at 5:58 exactly. His roommates tried to convince him to invite her in, but ignored them and just hopped in the car, not even requiring her to a foot outside.

He and Suzanna had a nice meal and decent conversation, although he really didn't feel like they learning all that much about one-another from discussion. The impression he got was that both of them had one gigantic secret that they carefully steered all conversation around, and it prevented any real meaningful exchange. They talked about superficial interests, discussed some of the nuances of her 'real' job, and Barry gave some insight on what his life was like back in Chicago, but that was about it.

Still, something was compelling Barry to get to know the 'real' Suzanna. Sure, she was one hell of a hot slut, but was that the real her? Suzanna said that she did porn because she loved it, but what motivated her to dress and act the way she did off the camera?

Barry admired Suzanna's openness and frankness about sex. It was exactly that sort of attitude he was hoping to adopt for himself before he made his next trip to Chicago . . . before he saw his mother again. The woman in front of him was an enigma. A curious fascination drove him, and Barry had the feeling that cracking the mystery which was 'Suzanna' would give him the answers to all of his personal questions.

But true to her word, when nine o'clock drew upon them, Suzanna called for the check. Barry attempted to take it from her, but she refused. "I make 80K a year, sweetie," she told him haughtily. "I don't think this pebble is going to make much of a splash in the pond."

Seeing she was dead-set on it, Barry dropped his protests, although he wasn't all that pleased. He had just meant to do something nice for her, but got robbed of the chance.

But that was fine, he thought, he would just have to make it up to her some other time.

******

Their next trip to Los Angeles occurred on Thursday, and it was going to be a long one. Suzanna had to go through photo ops and another session of filming. Even more, Barry hardly had any contact with her that day—the crew had him working all over the mansion, doing laundry, fetching coffee, delivering mail . . . it was definitely less fun than the last time.

Still, Barry did his job and then some. Since he was only doing this gig part-time, he felt he needed to make a good impression if everyone was going to come to see him as part of the crew.

They didn't finish until almost two in the morning, and Barry was dead tired on the ride back. Suzanna had to wake him up to push him out of her car when he got back past five, and he barely registered Trena getting her pussy mowed by Andre as he crept past them, crawled warily into bed and slept.

Saturday, they made another trip, and this time things were a lot more interesting. Barry was overjoyed to be working with just over a half-dozen gorgeous women on the set: three blondes including Suzanna, one brunette, one redhead, one asian, and one very dark black girl. When Barry followed Suzanna inside, a few of the women turned to look in his direction, forcing his countenance to a beet red as they stared at him longingly.

"Ooooo," said the redhead in a heavy Slavic accent, "please be telling me that cute boy is one of actors?" She stared at Barry with eyes reminiscent of a hawk stalking a tasty mouse. Before he knew it, he could feel the end of his cock throbbing, pounding inside his pants. She must have noticed too, as her eyes fell and then rose again with a lusty glint.

"Oh, he wishes right now," Suzanna said with a giggle. "Sorry ladies. Barry's just one of the hired goons."

The redhead scrunched her nose and turned her attention elsewhere. "Is too bad."

Today's main event was an orgy scene where the girls outnumbered the guys three-to-one. Barry got to see Suzanna eat pussy and have hers eaten by another woman, and the sight was even hotter than what his imagination had cooked up. He also got to see two of the girls get double-penetrated, although Suzanna got left out of that little activity. She was noticeably disappointed, and decided to settle for sucking one of the guys off while the other banged her hard from behind.

Strangely, although Barry had seen this sort of thing with Trena and his roommates all the time, watching Suzanna do it was like watching a special event. She kept both guys in sync, one thrust into her mouth pushed her deep against the dick in her cunt and then pushing into her pussy made her deep throat the guy in front. It was seamless, rhythmic, and hot as hell.

Three of the girls came and talked to Barry between several takes, and he had a hard time focusing on conversation with their curvy, meaty tits hanging just in front of his face. They eagerly wanted to know if he was considering becoming an actor, and wanted to recommend an agent if he was. With as much willpower as he could muster, Barry told them that he 'would consider it', and with a hypnotizing gleam, they each told him to 'keep in touch' if he did.

He was still visibly worked up during the drive home with Suzanna later that night—thanks to the hassling ladies, he had maintained a constant stiffy for about seven hours straight, and now his cock seemed permanently stuck that way. On the way back, Barry couldn't keep his eyes off of Suzanna, and the more he looked, the worse his problem became. Eventually, he just couldn't control himself anymore.

"Hey, um, S-Suzanna . . . would you mind . . . er . . . helpin' me out again?"

With a strong, triumphant smile, Suzanna forewent all modesty and asked, "Oh, so you want me to jerk your hard dick off again, Barry honey?"

Barry sighed and replied, "Fuck yes."

Suzanna smiled and pulled over, once more turning the engine off and shutting the lights down. This time, she spent more time on Barry's cock, rubbing the tip and using her thumb to toy with the hole. In the meantime, she pulled one of her tits free and began to play with it, lifting the nipple to her own mouth to play with.

She kept Barry on the edge for nearly half an hour, backing off just a little every time she saw he was in danger of coming. She toyed with him, keeping him right at the zenith of pleasure, but only doing enough to avoid letting his nuts spew their load. Eventually, he whined and asked her to make him cum. She teased him and made him beg, and Barry was soon pleading with her to let him get off. Finally, his cock geysered a mass of cum all the way onto the roof of Suzanna's convertible. With no hesitation, she leaned over the passenger's seat and licked the cum from the ceiling and her own hands.

Barry didn't know how much more of this he could take.

******

The next day, Barry and Suzanna had lunch again, and with much better conversation than last time. Barry finally got Suzanna to open up a little about herself, and in turn, he wasn't quite as standoffish about his own personal history either.

"So, tell me Barry, really . . . ." She paused to swallow a bit of crab meat. "Why are you doing this? What do you get out of just watching people fuck on set?"

"Just curious," Barry said, taking a swig of soda.

Suzanna smirked again. "Come on. There's got to be more to it. They tell me you've been asking all sorts of questions, like 'why do they choose this angle?' 'Which position is the most comfortable for fucking?' 'Do women like it better when you fuck or go down on them?'"

"So?"

"You've got an angle," she said, resting her chin on the back of her hand. "Something has turned a sweet Midwestern boy like you into some sort of sexual deviant in the making, and I'm just curious to know what."

Barry took a long sigh. He knew that the more he denied anything, the harder Suzanna would press. It was becoming harder and harder to keep the truth from Suzanna. The way her gorgeous blue eyes looked at him, he almost wanted to confess to murdering Jimmy Hoffa. He supposed that there wasn't any harm in telling her just a little bit, but keeping the juicy details to himself. Like he'd told himself before, what happened between his mother and he would be just their little secret. Just something they shared between them.

"I lost my virginity a few days before we met," he told Suzanna, "back in Chicago. It opened my eyes to a lot of things I hadn't been curious about before."

"Damn, and I thought you were lying about having your cherry popped," Suzanna laughed. "So who was she? Did your first time suck or something?"

"No!" Barry said defensively. "At least . . . for me, it didn't. For her . . . I don't know. But, that got me to thinking."

"Aaaaah," she said with budding realization. "You're afraid you didn't fuck right, so you're trying to get some pointers."

"Kind of. That might be part of it, I guess. But really, I just want more experience with everything sexual. I still . . . I still feel a little awkward and shy around her, so I want to know everything about sex so that the next time I go back, I'll know how to pick up on a woman's signals, how to know if I'm hitting the right spot, and how to spice up things in case vanilla sex gets too boring. I just don't feel like trying my hand in the field again until I've got a decent playbook."

Suzanna's eyes narrowed and her smile tightened. "You're in love with this woman, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"And she's an older woman isn't she? Possibly over 30, even?"

Barry swallowed, trying his best to keep his shock hidden. "What makes you think that?"

"A reasonable guess. If you're this worried, this girl sounds like she's got more experience than you and probably knows what she wants. You're afraid that she sees you as a kid, and you're desperate to prove otherwise. You want to be a MAN. A tall, strapping, confident man who's going to fly back to Chicago and rape her pussy something fierce. Am I on the right track?"

A little too much so, Barry thought. "Y-Yeah."

"Well, let me give you a little hint, sweetie. If you love this chick, you'll have to find something more between the two of you than just fucking. That may last for a while . . . a good while depending on the man and the fucking, but eventually, she'll worry if there's more between you than that. It might not be for a few months. It might not be for a year. Hell, it might not be for a decade, but it'll happen. If you just want to fuck her and have some fun for a while, that's one thing, but if you're trying to make something permanent between you two, you'll have to forge a relationship beyond just laying the good dick. You two will have to almost be like family."

Barry smiled. "Thanks. I'll work on that."

"Good. I wish you the best of luck, hon," she said as she began playing with her food again. "You're a really sweet guy. If I'd met you a few years back, before I got with Vic, I'd be pretty damn interested myself."

Barry was happy that the conversation shifted back to her before she could figure out anything else. Suzanna was smart . . . very smart. In the short time he'd known her, he'd learned how good she was at reading people and figuring out how to coax them to her desires. She had more power than the director did on the set, and just as he'd noticed at the pizzeria a few days ago, she tended to have no problem bending or breaking the rules whenever she chose to. Most guys were too busy wiping their drool off the floor to even bother challenging her.

He needed to watch his step when he said something around her from now on. From the way she looked at him when they spoke, he could tell that she saw him as every bit as much of a mystery as he saw her. She became more lewd and provocative whenever he backtracked from her questions, and did subtle things to try to lower his defenses. A bra adjustment here, a lick of the lips there, a wiggle and reposition of the seat here . . . she was so subtle about it that at first, he didn't even notice when it happened to him. But seeing her do it to so many others had given him more clues to look out for. But, judging by tonight, it seemed that he hadn't figured out all of them yet.

And that was one of the reasons he enjoyed being in Suzanna's company so much. He was learning a lot about picking up signals and sexual body language from her alone. Not just when she was fucked, but in everyday life as well. He was sure some of it wasn't applicable to all women, but he was figuring out enough to build a general understanding. Suzanna was raw lust in its distilled form, and understanding her inherently helped him understand sex in general.

But now that the conversation had shifted away from him again, he figured it was time to ask her some things directly.

"So, now that you know my reasons for being interested," he began, "why don't you tell me how you got into porn?"

"Oh, it's not interesting at all," she dismissed as she chewed. "In fact, it's outright boring."

"So then why not tell it?" he asked. "I'm the only one besides Victor who knows about your secret life, right? I'm the only person who gets to see both of your worlds. So why pass up an opportunity to tell a story you hardly get to tell?"

She shrugged. "Alright. Well . . . you know Victor? My boyfriend? He got me started with it. Took some home videos of us fucking to a director and sold them. Later on, the director called us and asked me to come in and try out. So, here I am. That's all there is to it, really."

Barry called time out in his brain. He smelled bullshit and found something extremely fishy about the way she recounted that story. She'd left a few too many holes in key details.

"Victor sold homemade porn videos of the two of you?"

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly. "We were hurting for cash, so he figured it might be an easy way to get some. This was about three years back."

Again, something didn't add up. "You said 'he' figured," Barry pried. "Did he discuss it with you at all before he did it?"

Suzanna hesitated, waiting until she slowly chewed and fully swallowed before answering. "Yeah, of course."

She was lying. Barry could see it in her eyes. Victor hadn't asked her jack shit beforehand. That only left him with more questions, but Barry didn't feel the need to question her about it. That would have been rude. But now, he had a hard time thinking of Victor as anything but a Grade-A douchebag for selling porn vids of his girlfriend without even asking her permission. He didn't know the guy, and Suzanna obviously cared about him, but as far as Barry was concerned, he deserved to have his ass kicked.

"And you enjoyed it, I guess?" he said, changing the subject.

"I looooooved it," Suzanna said jubilantly. "It helped that the guy who 'auditioned' me knew what he was doing and was hung like the fucking Hulk, but really, I just got a charge knowing I was fucking on camera. It turned me on to know I was spreading my legs and getting my pussy filled in front of dozens of eyes, and possibly thousands when the videos sold. They told me I drank up the attention beautifully and that I was a natural at putting on a good show. I got a few more parts, and when I saw my first check, I knew this was what I wanted to do."

"For how long?" Barry asked.

"Forever, if I can help it. I wanna be like Nina Hartley or Ginger Lynn, and keep fucking on camera till I'm old enough to be most of my co-stars' grandmas."

Barry couldn't help but laugh at that answer. "Well, at least you have a solid career path."

Suzanna smiled at his understanding. Her gaze turned naughty as she said, "You should consider it. I've seen you lifting and moving around the set. Muscles bulging through your shirt and shit. You're pretty damn hot. Tall, built like an athlete, and I can personally vouch that you got the right dick for it."

Barry just smiled and gave the same answer he gave to the last woman who asked. "I'll consider it."

"Good," she said, licking her lips as her eyes dissected him. "It won't be cheating if I fuck you on camera."

******

ONE MONTH LATER . . .

"Oh God, Barry . . . Oh God, my son . . . I've been waiting for this forever. Fuck me, son . . . fuck me!"

Barry cupped his mom's meaty tits as she bounced on his lap, sliding her pussy along the length of his rigid dick. He loved feeling her weight on his body, feeling her warmth on top of his. Just seeing her in so much rapture made him harder yet, and he wished that they could fuck like this forever.

"God, Ma . . . you look so beautiful like that. I love looking at your body."

She smiled at him and took his hand gently into hers, bringing his fingers to her mouth so that he could watch her suck them, one after the next. She stared into his eyes as each finger slid out of her mouth, coated with her saliva. Unconsciously, he began to thrust his hips upward harder, rewarding her lewd show with more powerful pounding.

"Oh, hurry and cum with me, baby. Cum with me."

Honestly, he wanted to hold off a bit more, but in reality, he just couldn't refuse that request, no matter how many times he heard it. Hearing his mother begging for him to come, with his cock deep in her pussy, was the single greatest feeling Barry knew. Only months ago, he never would have enough though that was possible, but all it took was for it to happen once before he fell completely in love with it. He would do anything, anything, to hear those words again and again.

"Oh, Ma," he said, placing his hands on her hips, locking their hips together so that she knew he was ready to grant her wish. "Tell me again. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Mmmm, Barry," his mother moaned as she leaned her lips closer to his. "I want you cum inside my naked pussy, darling. I want you to pour all of your potent sperm into my tender, defenseless womb. I need you to do it for me, honey. Do it and make me preg—"

Barry's eyes burst open and suddenly he wound up back in his dorm room, angrily glaring at his buzzing radio alarm as it indicated seven AM.

Never had he been so angry at God in his life.

That was the fifth such dream he'd had in the last month. Or was it the sixth? He couldn't quite remember. All he knew was that even one was too damn many.

Hell, he didn't even get to jizz this time—at least all of the other dreams ended with him exploding in his pants, satisfied at filling his mother's imaginary pussy. It was only when he woke up later with wet boxers that he realized he'd been duped, but this dream didn't even afford him that comfort.