Figure 8 Ch. 01

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Sylar meets Emma.
7.8k words
4.68
20.7k
26

Part 1 of the 9 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 04/08/2013
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Authors Note: Writing this on a whim on a fantasy that came into my head while discovering the personal lives of some porn stars via Twitter...

*

"What do you mean he can't get it up?" Nick lowered his voice as he noticed curious eyes. For the third time that day, he grabbed the reluctant PA who teetered beside him with a yelp, dragging her behind the fake set. Then he went on hissing, "He's Sylar Durden for Christ's sake, it's always up! That's his thing."

He paused to take in the sight of this tiny college grad. She was most definitely Sylar's type. Her boobs were practically globes in their own right, and with her natural blonde hair and light blue eyes, Nick could feel himself getting hard... if he weren't so pissed that the rumors about Sylar were all coming true. He took a second look at the wide-eyed PA, "Maybe you're just not hot enough," he let her go and crossed his arms. "He's been with them all, it must be desensitization. Yeah... that's sounds about right."

"Hey boss!"

"Yeah?" Nick called back. He looked at the poor PA, who looked so sorry that she had taken this job. What did she expect, he thought, as he waved her away, what did anyone expect from anyone when coming onto a porn set?

"Sylar's ready to go."

Nick clapped and hooted as he practically skipped from behind the set, nearly colliding into Sylar Dudern. "My man!" he smiled brightly before quickly backing off at the sight of Sylar's intimidating erection. It looked angrier than usual.

As did Sylar's face. He looked pained, as if he wanted to get it over with, as if nothing was worse than to get into a bed with that extremely enticing female - Morgana May - who had taken decades to book, and only did so after Sylar won some Critics Choice Awards. Nick scoffed as he got behind the camera and watched Morgana preen herself infront of the mirror. Some people took their job too seriously.

"Sound speeding... and action!"

If Nick didn't love women more than a fourteen year old boy finding Playboy for the first time, Sylar would've broken a sweat. At least now, boning Morgana wasn't going to be a chore, and his reputation would still be in tact. For the first time he was glad that the porn stereotypes didn't require much talking from his end. He simply needed to slide in and out while Morgana did what she did best. Fake every fucking thing.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she panted as her legs came crashing around his butt, pulling him closer. "Harder, harder, please."

Sylar closed his eyes, trying to tune out her screeching. Funny how three months ago, he wouldn't have thought it irritating. Three months ago, he really would've believed that the women underneath him wanted it. Three months ago he was also famous for being real on set - no Viagra, no fluffer - all one hundred percent male ego that every women (and a fair amount of men) begged to stroke. Three months ago, the only sex he knew about was this kind... and he used to be so fine with that.

While Nick was yelling at the PA behind set, Sylar had slipped into the back room and grabbed his bag. He fished for a small box of Viagra he had bought online. An "insurance," he told himself when he failed to perform for Nick last week. No matter what he thought about, how amazing the woman underneath him felt, his dick failed on him. It wasn't just embarrassing. He had to lie and say he was sick, which then made Nick also force him revisit the doctor just to double check that he was clean.

Now all he wanted was to get off and out of there. Morgana's wetness was helping. Thank god it was helping, he thought as he moved faster, not giving a shit to what she was moaning on about. He slapped his hand over her face, thanking whatever sexist cunt who spurred porn towards degrading women to allow him this saving grace. "Shut the fuck up," he growled, "and just take it." He thrust his hips faster, not sure if it was because he wanted to cum or if he wanted it over with.

Either way, his behaviour seemed to turn Morgana on even more. She started thrashing and moaning, biting into his hand. She was getting close, he could feel it. He paused for a moment to readjust his weight so he could just pound her into oblivion, when she suddenly wrapped her legs around him and flipped him over.

"Nuh-uh," she moaned, cupping her breast and grinding on him slowly, "I'm taking my time with you, boy."

Sylar closed his eyes so no one could see him roll them. That earned a well deserve slap on the chest and Morgana pinched his nipples, "Look at me, boy. Look at me while I..." he phased her out but went with the flow as he saw how happy Nick was with whatever the fuck was happening.

"So fucking big. And hot. And hard. So. Deep."

She just couldn't shut up. How she was the most popular porn star of the year was beyond him, although he couldn't deny that her body knew what it was doing. Every now and then her pussy contracted around him like a suction around his cock but it was all too calculated.

Sylar grunted and propped himself up. Morgana nearly shoved him back down, but he grabbed her breasts and twisted her nipples hard, knowing she was submit to the sudden pleasure. She grabbed his head, thrusting his mouth to her chest and started to ride him even harder than before. Sylar used this opportunity to read the time on the wall. They had been at it for twenty minutes already. Should be enough, especially with the masturbation scene Morgana had promised Nick.

Without warning, he flipped her around and started drilling her as hard as he could. Morgana seemed to take towards it. Her hands grabbed her breasts as she chanted, "Oh, oh, oh..." continuously. She reached for his hands, looking to intertwine them but Sylar shoved them away and held onto her hips instead. She was so wet she was nearly sliding off his dick, and he would be damned if he had to finish off with a handjob.

The familiar rush starting building up and up against a blockade that felt like a dam blocked for years. He bent down, closing his eyes to imagine that the body underneath wasn't that moaning slut, but just a warm body ready to suck him in. It took a lot of imagination but as Morgana wrapped her arms around him and spread her legs, he finally felt himself fall in the extra inch he needed. Grinding as hard as he could, he once again covered her mouth before pushing himself up and into her wet cunt. That extra friction was all he needed as he pulled himself out and felt his cum squeeze out more like a pissing relief than a mind blowing orgasm.

Fucking hell.

He opened his eyes to see Morgana smiling at his still hard cock, his cum dribbled over her face like he had spat randomly into the air. She slid herself down between his kneeling legs, and rested on her elbows so that his cock could slide in between her lips. Fuck, he thought as his hips jerked and he felt himself growing hard all over again. The fucking thing about Viagra was that even rubbing against sandpaper was going to get him hard.

The orgasm earlier had been so... anti-climatic that he didn't want to experience another series of them. Still in character, he shoved Morgana's head back, making her look him in the eyes. Thank god Nick was all about scripting to reality. They had shot Morgana earlier as a MILF who played hard to get, so his next words weren't too out of line. "Too bad baby," he rasped as he pulled away and slid out of bed, "you need to be taught a lesson in being a tease."

Morgana sat up, her collar bone still glistening from his cum. "What does that mean!"

"It means..." Sylar laughed as he pulled his pants back on and strolled to the bedside. As tenderly as he could manage, he brushed back some of her hair and whispered in her ear, "Get yourself off."

"CUT!"

Sylar didn't miss a beat. He rushed off set, brushing past an excited Nick to the changing room, the one thing on his mind was his fucking dick. It was impossibly hard again, making an obvious silhouette against the front of his jeans. Now he knew why his friends had warned him against this shit. Then again, he never thought he'd see the day he had to take Viagra... of all things. He always thought it'd be chlamydia that got him first.

As soon as he got changed and adjusted himself to hide his boner as much as possible, he muttered to the PA, "Tell Nick I have a meeting and this shoot ran over time. Tell him to call me when he needs me again, okay?" He waited for the stunned PA to respond. Great, he thought, another newbie. Why couldn't Nick stop being so cheap. "Did you hear me?" he barked, not sure where the misplaced emotions had come from. This scene was just too familiar...

"Yes...Yes, Tyler, I mean Sylar."

The poor girl was shaking badly. Sylar felt guilty for taking his anger out on her. He patted her shoulder. "You did a good job for your first day." When she looked relieved, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She was so shocked, her hand jerked up and brushed against his dick. Sylar jolted, clenching his thighs as he nodded a quick goodbye and walked out the door.

He'd just wait for the feelings to pass, he thought as he rode a taxi home. Sit and watch a movie with an ice pack of his dick. He thought about masturbating, about thinking of her until he came again - but there was nothing worse than having a fantastic orgasm and having nothing but cold air to fall into afterwards.

"Fuck!"

The taxi rode over a huge pot hole, causing the bag in his lap to rub against the front of his jeans. "Sorry," he muttered half heartedly to the driver. And when he got home, he realized that opening the door to a dark and empty bachelor pad gave off a feeling worse than not having sex. Damn her for making sex so intimate. Damn her for making him emotional. And logical about it all.

THREE MONTHS EARLIER...

Emma took a deep breath as she rang the doorbell to the warehouse. The looks she got while wandering through downtown San Francisco told her that people knew where she was going and by the judging looks on their faces, they didn't approve. Her looks probably didn't help either, as once a lady ran out of the store to tell her that she was "too pretty to be doing that kind of stuff."

"Oh, you got it wrong," Emma stammered, thoroughly embarrassed, "I'm not... I won't be doing... anything involved with touching people."

Emma sighed at her word choice, wishing she was bold enough to just say it out loud, but she couldn't even admit to her best friend, let alone a stranger.

"Honey, I'm looking for a part-time assistant. I'll pay you fifteen dollars an hour just so you don't get tangled up in that business."

Emma blushed. The gig she would be doing offered double that. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I need to show up for the first day of work at least."

The lady frowned. "Well here's my card. My name's Daisy and once you realize you want out, I'll have the job waiting for you. You're too young to just let your life go downward like that."

"Th-thank you." Emma tucked the card into a her satchel and smiled as brightly as she could. She didn't want to explain to the woman - Daisy - what her job was. It was be too complicated to explain, the pay was too good and technically, she thought as she heard the buzzer let her in, it was in line of work she had hoped to be in. Albiet a bit... scandalous.

"Hello, hello, I'm Greg, the director's assistant," a middle aged man quickly greeted her as the elevator opened up. He was very fit, she thought, for his age, which looked around forty, considering his receding hair line. "Are you Emma?"

"Yeah, I'm here for the assistant - "

Greg wasted no time. He rushed through the loft, through sets and props, motioning her to catch up as he weaved through everything and everyone.

"Editor, yes. Change of plan though The last editor left because of his wife - you don't have family or a boyfriend do you?" Emma shook her head. "Good. That's a new "qualification" Nick wants with the production crew but since it's considered sexist, ageist or whatever, we can't actually post that on the job listings. It's all a bit messy, relationships... So where was I?"

"There's no editor?" Emma wasn't even sure what she was getting into anymore.

"Nick'll edit, but you're probably going to end up being his assistant. Good thing you're paid hourly and for overtime, right?" Greg tapped his clipboard. "Has anyone seen Sylar?" he yelled, in no direction in particular and to no one in particular. There was a resounding and almost overly excited yes that got Greg squealing as he made a mark on the paper. I guess Sylar is the talent, Emma thought as she looked around, wondering what he looked like.

She had seen her fair glimpses, screenshots mainly, of porn stars. They weren't exactly her type, and even when she tried to watch them - strictly out of curiosity - everything from the grunting man to the shamelessly loud woman just felt annoying.

"What's your favorite Sylar film darling?"

"Huh?"

They walked behind a rack of sex toys and Emma's eyes widened at the variety of them. She didn't know... it wasn't just the colors, but the shape, sizes and bits and pieces she wasn't even sure what they were for or where they went.

Fingers snapped in front of her eyes. "Oh dear, did HR not explain to you what we're about. This isn't Hollywood, honey." Greg peered at her with these musical "You're-not-in-Kansas" eyes.

"No, no. I know what I'm in for. I know what I signed up for," she found herself insisting, trying to reassure him. "I'm just not...experienced in the... onscreen stuff."

She held her breath as Greg crossed his arms, studying her as if she were the on screen talent. His hawk-like circling got her nervous. Was she going to be fired just because she was a virgin? No! How would he know anyway? And he certainly couldn't fire her for thinking she was a prude. Not that she would sue them for being sexist either. Imagine what kind of reaction the newspapers would have with that.

Assistant in the porn industry scared of sex.

They'd probably make a porno out of that too.

Emma shuddered. She couldn't have that. She gripped her hands resolutely, thinking about the personal benefits to this job. Her reluctance to even approach a guy at a bar, even if she thought he was the hottest thing to walk to planet, always turned into regret. So Emma wanted to learn, without suffering the bad consequences or feeling regret from a rash decision, how to be confident with her sexuality.

Of course everything was scripted anyway. She had skimmed through some of the company's videos. And the main reason she applied was because they were known for their "erotic sensual films" rather than wham-bam-thank-you-mam scenes. Not to say that their job description didn't imply that there would be days like that... "We occasionally produce controversial content that appeals to a niche audience" was the exact phrasing.

She broke out of her daydream when Greg made a tsk sound, and she started rambling for her dear life. "I'm really good at editing, especially sound. And I'm experience with unorganized production. I promise not even one moan is going to be out of sync when the editor gets the dailies."

Of course, numero uno reason she needed this job. The money was too good. In fact, it was ridiculous for at twenty eight dollars an hour plus overtime, she would be able to save up for LA without having to worry about student loans too much.

Emma wrung her hands nervously against her sweater as Greg's gaze grew intensely condescending. Then it snapped, He laughed deep and pulled the little girl in for a hug. "Oh honey, don't be such a scared little bird. You're hired already, and Nick's not going to make you do anything you don't want to do... even if we're missing our female lead."

He winked, and Emma worked the courage to smile back.

"Don't worry. You've got me on your side, and if anyone bothers you, let me know. I'll gladly stick my dick up their ass," Greg reassured her, tucking her under his wing with a strong surge of protective for this timid assistant. "Come on, let's find Nick."

He kept his arm around Emma throughout the loft and gladly kept the conversation going, even if it was on his own terms. Emma found herself warming up to him. He really was like a Momma bird, she thought, as he showed her the kitchen, bathroom and where she could store her stuff. He told her who to avoid, although Nick rarely re-hired anyone who made the cast or crew uncomfortable. "We're surprisingly normal, honey," Greg cooed, "except the talent. They always want some, but as long as you say no, they'll respect your wishes. "

Emma nodded, hoping she would never have to be in a position to say no. She was never very good at saying the word. Most of the time she would bide her time until there was a chance to slip away and disappear. It saved everyone the trouble.

"So where did you go to school, Emma?"

"Oh, USC," she replied.

"Oo LA. Love LA. I dated a makeup artist from the Valley once. Beautiful complexion, but terrible hair and choices in color. He would dyed his locks this ugly blonde and get these disgusting orange color. Then I had to break it up when it became obvious he was trying to worm his way into fucking some celebrities who are still in the closet, if you know what I mean."

She didn't, but still agreed. "Hah, yeah."

"So what brings you up to San Francisco? You should've stayed down there to fulfill your dream."

"Free rent," she shrugged. "My aunt owns a house and she rents her rooms out to college girls. I get to live for free as long as I help manage it."

"Ah, I used to remember free rent." He winked his pretty eye, and smirked. Emma was sure his method of free rent was very different idea from hers. Suddenly they jerked to a stop as Greg started cooing.

Emma didn't know why, but something instinctively told her eyes to keep her eyes the ground. There was a rush of a masculine scent that reminded her of those surfer stores in the malls, the ones with absolutely stunning models with perfect bodies. Emma gulped, hoping to go unnoticed.

"Greg, Greggy, Greg - what are you sneaking past me?"

The voice was deep, rich and sent vibrations through Emma - or it was Greg's chuckle and how he kept her closer. The voice went on, "Passing by my room without introducing me to the new talent?" Emma's head shot up so fast to reject the claim that she locked eyes with the most intense green eyes she had ever seen. They were light, almost grey, surrounded by a lining of long black lashes. And the rest of his face was history - even his facial hair, which she hated on guys, was sexy.

"I thought we were doing horny babysitter today, not whimpering virgin."

He studied the girl who was practically hiding behind Greg like a little mouse with interest. It had been a long time since Nick had been able to book a girl like this one. A real shy one that was pretty in a petite, homey way. Very different from the girls that usually came by. He wondered how long it would take to make her moan on all fours - would going slow or fast make her go mad?

Emma tried not to watch the man study her, but it was hard to focus on anything else. Damn him for not wearing a shirt, she thought. His body was so surprisingly lanky, not like the bulky men she had seen online. His arms didn't burst with muscles, but they were well defined, all of him was especially the impossibly perfect abs that she had only ever seen on Brad Pitt in Fight Club. And it was inevitably, considering her circumstances, that her eyes would go lower...

"Eyes up here, baby."

She blushed immediately, ready to say something when Greg interrupted with a flirtatious sigh. "Oh Sylar, you know it's hard enough with you prancing around like that without a shirt. But why do you have to wear such flimsy pants too?" Emma wanted to hug him there and then for saving her the embarrassment but Greg was too busy reaching for the pants.