Figure 8 Ch. 01

Sylar playfully slapped his hand away, but flirted back. His words to Greg but his eyes trained on Emma. This one was not discrete, he grinned, watching her wide brown eyes flicker back and forth. He wasn't sure if it was the sunlight coming through the floor to ceiling windows, but around her head was a soft glow, like a halo, and the rest of her hair looked so soft and welcoming.

Dammit, he thought as she started chewing on her lip, she looked so tiny and precious, it'd take the entire city to stop him from pounding in her tonight. "Well, I can't say I'm not pleased by the change of theme today. Especially if it means getting into bed with this one," his bright green eyes raked up and down her body shamelessly as he reached out to touch the ends of her hair.

His hand recoiled as Greg slapped his hand sharply.

"What the fuck, man."

"No-no, Sylar," Greg chided as he tucked Emma closer to him. "This one isn't for you. She's Nick's."

Sylar growled, "What?"

"Emma Ramsay this is Sylar Durden. Sylar, this is Emma."

Emma almost died hearing his stage name. Everything about this man was becoming the literal reincarnation of her ultimate fantasy - save for the psychotic part. She managed a squeaking, "Nice to meet you" and held out her hand for a shake but all Sylar did was stare at her as if horns were growing out of her eyes.

She was already whimpering, Sylar groaned inwardly, not caring that Greg would be able to tell he was turned on. He watched Emma's eyes widen like saucers ready to brim with water and knew that she had no idea what was really going through his mind. Making her suck his finger was one of them - he knew she would be so delicate. Fuck! She would be wasted on Nick! Usually Sylar didn't care, but there was something about this shy girl. Maybe it was because she just didn't fit in. She looked like the type that didn't know how to say no. He knew girls like her. They gave into the peer pressure, empty promises and hopes, and all that came out of it was a hopeless damaged soul afraid of sex. And sex was too good to be afraid of.

The staring contest was broken by a rather shrill male yell.

"Greg! I need you here!"

Greg jumped up, releasing Emma, making her feel very vulnerable. "Oh shit honey, that's Nick. Come' on, we need to introduce you to the boss." He grabbed her hand and they started running. Emma couldn't help but look back at Sylar, who was raking his fingers through his perfect brown hair.

In one quick crash course, she met Nick and was gladly reassured that her job was limited to technical work only. Nick had laughed loudly and uncontrollably when Emma mumbled that she preferred not to do anything physical but would if she absolutely had to and it would save a life. The crew moved professionally undisturbed by their director's cackling.

"We're not sex traffickers, Emma." Nick chuckled as Emma smiled obediently. Greg had warned her of Nick's poor sense of humor. "We're paying good money for other people to do that job."

He pointed to a fluffer that had her hands underneath a woman's shirt. The woman was moaning, pinching herself where the fluffer wasn't touching and rolling her hips as if she was trying to fit the other woman underneath her.

"Does that mean Sylar has an... assistant too?" Emma blurted. She tried to hide her blush. Thankfully Nick didn't seem to notice anyway.

"No, Sylar's a god," Nick said with a ring of awe to his voice. He guided her to the seat next to the director's chair, and Emma stifled a scoff at the sight of his name printed on the back. Someone took his job a little too seriously. "That's the amazing thing about Sylar. He's not just popular with the female porn stars cause of his big talent, he's also really good at getting his boy grow infront of the camera."

People started shuffling around, moving wires and lights until the set was perfect. There was a fake staircase that lead up to nowhere, but downstairs to a deceivingly small living room with one sofa. A few feet away was an open kitchen with marble counters, surrounded by cabinets. Emma watched as the actress had gone to the top, ready for her cue to make her way down.

Then Sylar appeared on set. He was wearing pajamas that did nothing to hide his erection. Hell, I can see it all the way over here, Emma swallowed, and it didn't help when he stood sideways with his hands on his hips.

"Nick, we're ready," Sylar said looked straight over at Emma, grinning. Greg had explained to him her job, and although he had to admit his disappointment when he heard she wouldn't be performing - at all, and probably never - he did love the way she squirmed whenever he looked at her. Most women he knew ran right into his lap. This little mouse looked like she wanted to hide.

He smirked as she ducked her head down, those huge headphones over her ears like she was a child watching daddy at work.

But as soon as Nick yelled, "Action!" Sylar was all business.

The girl at the top of the stairs starting walking down, and he quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her against him so fast that the glazed shock on the talent's face told him she was ready too. Fuck the lines, he thought as he thrust his hips once against her smooth legs, loving the pressure. He pushed her against the wall, grinding himself as hard as his body would allow. He kissed the mouth underneath him, sucking on her wet tongue as he felt a cool hand slip beneath the band of his pants to pull out his cock. Oh fuck. His thoughts disappeared completely when he felt a warm mouth vibrate hungrily over his growing dick. Fucking fuck, yes, this was the life.

When Emma got home, all she saw when she closed her eyes was flesh against flesh. Sylar's penis had looked so thick as it entered the woman, sawing in and out until she seemed to go mad. At first Emma squirmed, a familiar yet different sensation rushed deep inside her, warming her body from inside out. Only rubbing her thighs seemed to give some sort of relief, and the way Sylar kept flexing his muscles, pushing himself against her without penetrating, driving the woman mad, made Emma even hotter. But then the woman had to start talking, saying incoherent things, screaming and yelling with a shrill that made Emma feel like she was being murdered instead of having sex. Anything felt was quickly replaced with irritation.

And now Nick had sent her back with hours and hours of footage that wasn't just from today. Porn, she thought bluntly, I carried porn half way across the city and now I'm going to watch it as if I'm editing the next Titanic. I'm going to have to watch three different cameras and unintelligible women scream over and over again.

She made herself a cup of tea, toasted some bread with butter and got out her headphones so that none of the college girls would hear her work. Before she started, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was sure by the end of all this, she would never want to have sex again.

It was half true. By the end of tape one, Emma didn't even feel the slightest curiosity or heat between her legs when naked bodies came on screen. She looked at them as if they were cartoons. There were so many different women coming on and off, she wasn't even sure what was going on anymore.

What did she discover though was what turned Sylar Durden, the sex god that had women worshiping his body, on. He was so fucking good, Emma realized that the women having sex were getting orgasms of pure bliss and desire. Hell, she sometimes she had the script in front of her, which never, ever said, "Sylar, please. I'm yours. Oh my god, only you. Only you can do - " Emma pulled open a bag of Ritz crackers, as Sylar buried his dick into one woman after another. Funnily enough, it wasn't that she didn't want to have sex at all. She just now had certain expectations of what her first time should feel like, what a guy had to make her want to say - and those expectations were higher than man's first steps on the moon.

By the end of five tapes and a week later, Emma knew more about Sylar Durden's sexual appetite than she'd like to admit. She knew that he liked being hard as possible before being touched - his eyes fluttered a certain way when that happened. She knew that he preferred to spend more time inside a woman's vagina than in her mouth, and he liked being on top so that he could grind against their clit when they fucked. Clit. That was one word and anatomy she learned while watching all over this. It seemed to be the magic button in all the women.

After a heated shower scene where Sylar fingered a MILF into a thigh-clenching orgasm, Emma wondered if she could feel the same. While she washed herself, her hand trailed down her stomach and in between her legs. Originally she was just cleaning herself, but somehow her hand rubbed a little harder and she felt herself jolt at the contact. She did it again, and went to put her finger inside like she had seen all the other girls do, like she had seen Sylar do, but it was so tight, it hurt and burned to push any further. Finding no pleasure in the rest of the activity, Emma rinsed herself off and went to bed.

The next time Emma saw Sylar, she was getting in the elevator to the loft when she heard his voice cry out her to wait. Her hand struck out, stopping the door as it rebounded open to one devilishly handsome Sylar Durden.

"Hi," he smiled widely as he stepped inside. Despite the spacious room in the elevator offered, he stood right next to her.

Emma immediately looked at the ground as she realized that she couldn't un-see the fucking man naked. Even if he wore a fucking Pikachu suit, she realized, all she would be able to picture was his cock. She knew all the different sizes it could get to, even what it looked like when it was flaccid, but even then all she could imagine was the thickness and hardness of it. Oh my god, she trembled, Emma Ramsay, grow up! Every boy has a penis. Dogs have penises. Dogs.

She hoped he wasn't watching her.

Sylar wondered what was going on inside Emma's brain. He expected a cheery smile - everyone loved him - but all he got was a side shuffle towards the other end of the elevator. Shouldn't she be used to him by now? He tried to get her attention, but the harder he tried, the more she stepped away. Such demureness wasn't going to go unnoticed in the porn business. Sylar racked his brain as to why this girl, dressed in an oversized sweater and skinny jeans, was still here.

But god, last weekend - starting Wednesday - had been a huge blur. The talent he'd fucked into wailing, multiple orgasms had invited him to a party and there was definitely a lot of snorting, drinking and perhaps some sex... Sylar smiled as he remembered being delightfully cushioned by warm bodies. Although he secretly hoped he didn't fuck anyone he didn't know with diseases and all that... After all, the whole point of being able to fuck for a living was the guarantee that his co-workers would be disease free too. He made a mental note to make a doctor's appointment when he noticed that Emma was staring at him now.

"What does a porn star do on his off days?"

Emma couldn't help but watch the emotions on Sylar's face go from bliss to confusion and then satisfaction. She put together that he was remembering something, but what? And when she asked the question, she startled them both.

Thankfully the elevator had reached their destination. And when the doors opened, Sylar found himself speaking in character, as if he were talking to a fan, "The same thing we do for work, darling." He knew he was smooth, and the answer was undeniably erotic that most women would've wet themselves right there.

But instead, he heard was a disappointed, "Oh." He was about to ask her what she meant by that, but she was already off, bouncing through the loft and grabbing a hold of Greg.

This time Sylar found himself watching Emma, studying her while he waited around on set until Greg caught him and smacked him on the head. Damn him to hell if he tainted her, Greg warned, "Don't think about trying to loop her into the business. She's not here for keeps."

I'd like to keep her Sylar thought, picturing her legs around him. He was sure she was tight. She was so small... his ego and pride puffed up at the thought of totally encompassing her, crushing her to his chest. He watched as Emma tucked some loose hair behind her ear. No matter how many times she pulled her hair up, it kept slipping out. "She really is pretty," Sylar noted the way her hair fell naturally, not in perfect curls but in a messy out-of-bed way, "a bit unconventional, but the camera would love her nonetheless."

Greg rolled his eyes and poked Sylar with his pen, shaking a finger in Sylar's face. "You can't have her. She's not from this world and she's not going to join it."

"Give me more credit," Sylar laughed, "she's not my type anyway."

"Good."

That conversation did nothing to stop him from wanting Emma more. She was like a piece of sunlight waltzing about the room in her clumsiness and naivety. And yet nobody laughed at her because of it, instead Sylar noticed the crew welcoming her simple mindset as if it were a breath of fresh air.

"Not everything has to revolve around sex," he heard her say when one of the sound team asked her how she got through her days watching hours of fucking, "And honestly eventually everything looks the same to me."

Wait.

Had she spent her "off" days watching him? Over and over? Syncing up sound for picture... All the thoughts, the potential images of Emma masturbating to him, hit Sylar harder than he could comprehend it. Someone whistled as they passed. "That was hella fast, Sylar. Whatever got you turned on, you should bottle it and sell it." He didn't have to look down to feel his cock growing up against his leg, but even he was surprised by how fast it grew.

Fuck. Girls and guys watch my videos all the time, he thought, it shouldn't make a difference that she does. He looked over at Emma, sitting next to Nick, going over the script with intense focus as if they were about to shoot the next Oscar winning film. Her face was quite small, and her features quite petite... her almond eyes raised to look at him, but he didn't turn away after getting caught for staring. Hell, he wasn't ashamed, it was a new sensation for him. A mental turn-on that didn't even require being touched, although he eventually gave him and shoved his hand down his pants to give his cock a feel relieving squeezes.

He was... he was... touching himself while looking at her! Emma burned as she quickly untucked all her hair to cover her face. She felt this weird pressure in the air around her and looked up to see Sylar watching her, his fingers now lightly brushing over that area as if it was the most normal thing to do.

All the images of him fucking other girls rushed into her head - did he really run out of things to think about?

Don't flatter yourself. As if he was thinking about you, he's fucked fantasy girls all over the world, and he's just getting ready for the job. You probably just caught him at the right time and jumped into your own wet dreams. Where did that come from? Emma stiffened at her own thoughts, she never had wet dreams, let alone wet dreams of Sylar!

Sylar watched in amusement as Emma started to frantically shake her head. No one was talking to her but this girl seemed to be having a war of a conversation on her own. Did she always look this cute when she got bashful? He wondered what got her so riled up and red.

"Sylar, we're ready for you!" Greg cried in a cat-call voice, popping in front of him. "Oo, what's got this big boy so excited? Keep it up for that lucky ho."

Sylar didn't even remember the script when he saw Ashlynn sitting on the bed. He just knew there was a huge pent up energy in his pants and a fucking hot girl was there to release it. He moved when he heard Nick yell "Action," pushing his hand through Ashlynn's hair and gently squeezing her neck.

"Oh that feels good," she whimpered but pushed gently against his chest, "but we can't do this baby. You said we'd wait for marriage."

Suddenly, he couldn't remember the damn words. He closed his eyes, hoping to pass off the look on his face as intense lust. Well, that was half true. He thrust his hips gently as he tried to think, groaning as Ashlynn's legs fell open, letting his cock lodge right at her heat. He opened his eyes, darting his gaze around the room. What a mistake. He saw Emma with her finger in her mouth, chewing her nails while her tongue occasionally flickered out. What a pointy tip, like an iceberg.

How did someone so oblivious and innocent become so hot.

Oh, shit that was it. Innocence. Sylar turned his head and nuzzled Ashlynn's neck. "I'll marry you, promise, but can't we get started on our honeymoon now? I'm so hard right now I can't - " he stopped when he heard a soft giggle. Looking up, there was Emma trying hard to not laugh. He felt a rush of anger at the disruption, but then... maybe it was the light or the oversized headphones or the way Nick and Greg looked at her in near adoration despite her screwing up the sound... but she looked beautiful with her crescent eyes and her hand over her mouth.

I'm sorry, she mouthed to the sound guy, whose annoyance quickly disappeared as well. It was true, Sylar thought, the script was cheesy. So fuck the script. He was too horny to play along anymore. Ashlynn's hands were stroking him so well, the lubrication from her pussy was more than enough. And the camera was still rolling...

He gripped the back of Ashlynn's neck, baring it so he could make his mark down her jaw, straight for her mouth. Her legs parted wider than the command open sesame and he pushed his tongue the corners of her mouth, sucking on hers until she couldn't breathe.

It was all going so fucking good. Ashlynn's pussy was alway tight, wet, and when she got on all fours, Sylar didn't wait to push into her. "Oh my god," he moaned, grabbing her ass and kneading it, making her feel him inside and out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He knew that girls liked him vocal, and he didn't mind being vocal as well. His eyes were closed for a while, revealing in the sensation of the hot, ribbed enclosure around his cock, when he suddenly wanted to feel her weighty breasts in his hands. Hard nipples against his palms, between his fingers.

Right when he opened his eyes, he saw the rest of the crew enraptured with his performance. Those who weren't holding anything were rubbing themselves through their clothes - except Emma. Her eyes were focused on the screen and her knuckles white around the pen. And Sylar found himself pounding harder as he watched her, as she continued to watch him not noticing that he was looking at her. Did anyone else notice, he thought briefly, but the feelings surrounding his dick were too intense. Ashlynn was convulsing, moaning and gripping at the sheets as he spurred on, knowing he could get her to have multiple orgasms. It wasn't for her as much as it was for him. The feeling of her muscles rippling over his cock - non stop, never stopping - he was about to explode but held it in just to feel her pussy squeeze him tighter and tighter. When he pulled out to come, Ashlynn moved her head forward to drink it all, but he pushed her head back.

"No, use your hands." He groaned as he felt five petite fingers close around him, and before he knew it, he was imagining a hand, so small that white knuckles could form holding a pen, jerking him off into oblivion.

"Fucking hell Sylar," Nick yelped, giving no concern to his friend's naked appearance, or to the PA that was wiping him down with a wet towel. "How the hell are you going to top that performance? Fuck that should've been for a movie for the Porn-Oscars. Not some jerk-off scene for PornXXX.com."