Making a Scene

"This town isn't exactly lacking in eager young people who want to do porn... some of them with substance abuse problems in their past... or future." He tossed the coin back to Dorothy. "Why don't you show me what makes you different? Why should I pick you instead of any of the other women I'll see today?"

Dorothy blinked. Her story felt less special with every word Burt said. She hadn't expected her trials to be so universal in the world of pornography. And yet... she knew had something that made her different. And if she couldn't show three strangers, how could she hope to show hundreds of them?

She stood up from her chair, found the key to her fly, lowered it, and scooped out her penis, letting it hang over the waistband of her colorful undies.

There was silence in the room as all three of them stared at it.

As if it could feel the attention from the six eyeballs, Dorothy's cock quickly grew hard, a thick bead of precum appearing at the tip.

"Do you like it?" She asked nervously. Why was it so hard to get someone to like the sight of a huge erect penis... in a porn studio?

"Dorothy, could you step into the hall?" Burt said, still looking at the engorged member. "I want to consult with my partners privately."

She tucked herself into her shirt and left the room, standing near the doorway. The hallway turned a corner around back into the waiting room, so... there was nobody around to see her. She could hear the typical sounds of office activity around her.

Dorothy slowly lifted the hem of her shirt, unveiling inches of naked boner until it was all free again. She listened for the footsteps, but none of them seemed to be heading her way.

She had to admit... this was thrilling.

The door behind Dorothy opened again a minute later, and Dorothy walked back in.

She took her seat again, but nobody immediately said anything. She resisted the nervous urge to swallow.

"OK, you've convinced us."

Dorothy clenched her fists. She laughed nervously. "Awesome! I won't disappoint you, I swear."

"Yeah, I just wasn't going to let that big thing walk out of here, no matter who got it."

They scheduled a shoot for a Wednesday a few months in the future. Dorothy was surprised they planned these shoots so far out. She made a note to mark her calendar when she got home.

Dorothy left the studio, feeling something she hadn't in quite a long time. Something that gave her a bounce to her step and a lightness in her heart, like a cape of chain mail had fluttered off her shoulders.

Happiness. Hope. Whatever it was... she liked it.

--

Back at work. Cha-ching.

For a little while, being accepted by the porn producers helped improve her mood. It was great to feel like a porn producer could like her unorthodox body, but it was really great to feel like there was an unserved audience looking for women like her.

The walker went by the next Wednesday. Now it felt like seeing the act before you as you waited in the wings for your turn to perform. Her co-stars... her competition... how should she look at these other women? Burt never seemed to take his head up from the eyepiece of the camera. What would happen if he saw her through this window?

A few days later, Billy poked Dorothy on the shoulder. "Hey, why don't YOU go do that walking thing? I'd do it if it wasn't for all this... masculinity I carry around."

Dorothy flushed. "That's not for me." She insisted, hoping it didn't sound like so much of a lie to him as it did to herself. Billy only really bothered her when Tom wasn't around.

"Hey, don't look an easy paycheck in the mouth!"

"You call that easy?" She separated herself from Billy, asking her boss for a brief lavatory break.

While in the bathroom, she called up the number on Burt's card. She thought it might go to a secretary or other intermediary, but Burt himself picked up.

"What's up, Dorothy?" He said over the phone. "Don't tell me you're chickening out."

"No, I'm not." She whispered into the phone. "But... we never really discussed how much... I'd get paid for this."

Burt didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"How much... would you like to get paid?"

"How much I'd like and how much you're probably going to give me are two different numbers."

"Well, we're kind of a small operation, as you saw." Burt said. "So what's the smallest amount would you be willing to accept?"

Dorothy's voice got lost in her gut somewhere as her stomach sunk. What if she said a number that was too high? She had absolutely no idea how much porn performers or nude models got paid. It had to be more than she made at Lyman's... right? Did these performers actually do it for less than she made here just to avoid working in customer service and retail? It was that very temptation that brought her to this crossroads.

"I... I can't think of one."

"You need to give me a ballpark here." Burt urged. "Just say a number. Any number."

"Zero!"

A crushingly long pause over the phone.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'zero?'"

Dorothy hesitated. "Yes?"

"You'll do it for free?"

"At this point, I'll PAY to do it." She whispered. "I really, REALLY need to do this. I NEED to put myself out there. It's the hottest thing I've ever thought of. I'm about to break my zipper, I'm so hard." Dorothy really hoped nobody could hear her through the door.

A few seconds of silence on the line. The hum of the fluorescent lights made her feel like bugs were flying around her head. She tried not to pant into the phone.

"A few times, we've lost a day of shooting because the model chickens out and doesn't want to be naked in front of a crowd." Burt explained. "They compartmentalize what they do in a studio and what they do in their normal lives. So if we do this, I guess you won't chicken out and not do it?"

"I would never do that. This is what I want."

"Have you ever been naked in public before?"

A pause. "No." She choked.

"You may want to get some practice in, then." Burt suggested. "Some women swear they can swallow and then they barf. Try something to make sure you actually like doing it, not just with the IDEA of doing it."

"OK."

She hung up.

Get some practice, he said. It was such a casual request, as if someone would get a gym membership and work out on the public nudity treadmill.

On the other hand... she was in a public lavatory... and she was painfully hard right now.

Dorothy pulled herself out of her jeans. She was very happy that the dress code at Lyman's was flexible enough that she could wear jeans. The green smock was useful for hiding erections if they were jammed down her pant leg. Not that the average customer had ever inspired much lust in her.

She shimmied her jeans and panties down to her ankles and sat on the seat. Two shakes was all men were allowed at the urinals, a plumbing feature that she had never had the opportunity to use. If she really touched herself in this public place... was there any going back?

Her thumb and forefinger slipped around the base of her shaft, and slowly crept its way up towards her head.

And back down again.

Dorothy closed her eyes, feeling her cheeks flush. This was happening. She was jerking it in a public restroom. She had never even been tempted to do this. A few times, she was aroused in public and had to wait out her status in a stall... but she could always wait to get home. There was porn there, lots and lots and LOTS of porn.

Of course she had loads of porn. That's what this extension demanded. It made her mind swim in lustful thoughts any time her mind wandered. This was the reason she found studying such a drag in college. How come nobody seemed interested in this thing? It sure seemed like a big one. Was nobody interested just because it was attached to a woman? What kind of cosmic joke is this, anyway?

Whatever. If nobody else was interested in this thing, she'd just do it herself... like always. Every day... at least once... usually more... but never in public like this... she grunted a few times as the excitement built up...

And then she stopped.

Not because this bathroom was gross. It really wasn't. The stockboys were supposed to check the bathrooms every hour and make sure they were clean. They probably didn't, but she had no complaints of the cleanliness, and she could easily masturbate in here with peace of mind.

This was a single-occupancy restroom with a lock on the door. The key ring was hung on a wood screw someone had drilled into the door at a slight angle. The lavatory was designated for 'ladies,' since there wasn't one made just for her. She doubted the one labeled for gents even had a urinal. Why would there be if only one person was in there at a time?

Frank DID have the backup keys to both lavatories on his key chain. If he were summoned to open this door for mysterious reasons, then maybe there was the slim chance of him walking in on her whacking her huge dick in the bathroom.

She could call him from her phone. She could assume a gravelly voice and say there was a bomb in the ladies' room, and then Frank would either bravely seek the bomb himself, or her reverie would be interrupted by the bomb squad... maybe even one of those remote-controlled robots.

But that thought didn't excite her either. Not even the slightly daffy idea of getting a handjob from the bomb disposal drone robot's incredibly precise pincer hands. Getting caught because she forced it to happen was no more interesting than sitting here, masturbating in perfect seclusion with no threat of exposure. This was materially no different than jerking it in her own shower, except she wouldn't dare working up a lather with the available hand soap. She already hated how it made her hands smell.

Dorothy pushed herself uncomfortably into her jeans, her erection slowly fading, the bulge hidden under her green smock. All the sexy thoughts had left her mind, and she was mentally back at work, waiting for this shift to be over.

If she wanted a real thrill... she would have to try this out for real.

She returned to her station.

"I dropped these eggs outside your store. Can I replace them?"

"Can I see the receipt?"

For once, the old man actually had it. It looked like he'd crumpled it up and played waste basket basketball with it... but it was there, and it was the correct receipt. Dorothy looked at the timestamp on the bottom of the ticket.

"These were bought two hours ago." She noted.

"No, that can't be right."

"It's right there."

"Ohh..." The man appeared to know he was caught.

"You said you dropped them as you were leaving?"

"No, I said I dropped them over there." He pointed towards the automatic doors.

"So you bought them... went shopping for a few hours or maybe saw a movie... and then dropped them outside our store... just now?"

The man didn't answer. He stood there like the answer should be self-evident.

"Frank?" Dorothy called up to the boss's office.

The boss walked down the steps and started to deal with the customer. He was the one who got paid enough to deal with this.

Well, that was likely not really true, but it was more than she got paid.

--

Dorothy's apartment was on the fifth and highest floor of her building. Her apartment was also at the very end of a dead-end hall. She waited until almost midnight before stepping out of her apartment in her white bathrobe. This was the first time she felt the carpet in the hallway with her bare feet.

She looked down the hall. From the end, one could see the stairs leading down to the lower floors. There was no fire door or anything else standing between one end of the hall and the other.

It was late enough that most people were almost certainly asleep, or at least in their apartments and unlikely to leave. This would be a good place for some practice runs.

Dorothy was already blushing, and she wasn't even naked yet. She had never even stepped outside her apartment in her bathrobe, much less with nothing on under it. She was far too scared that something would awaken her erection and leave her in an embarrassing predicament.

But that didn't matter right now. Dorothy was already painfully erect under her robe. All she had to do was take it off. She took some quick breaths, psyching herself up for this. She had to make sure she had the guts to do it for real.

Dorothy threw the robe off her shoulders and ran all the way to the end of the hall, and then back. When running back, she couldn't see if someone had appeared and was checking out her ass as she ran back for her room. They'd even know which apartment she lived in. She could get in so much trouble for this.

Of course, she did not. Nobody appeared. Everyone was asleep. The hall was silent, but for Dorothy's exhilarated laughter, smothered into the bunched-up robe. She could barely believe it. Her heart thumped like a drum in her head and her cock.

As she calmed down a bit, Dorothy realized that she would not be able to run anywhere when doing the real thing. There was a reason Tom had nicknamed them 'walkers,' after all. It's the contradiction of being entirely nude AND entirely unconcerned with the situation.

A few more deep, focusing breaths. Dorothy hung the robe up on her doorknob and slowly walked away from it until she reached the railing above the stairs leading down. She wasn't afraid of heights, but looking down deep staircases made her dizzy. It was a long way down.

Dorothy walked back to her apartment and removed the robe from her doorknob... but she did not put it on. She was not yet satisfied that walking a few hundred feet indoors while everyone is asleep would really prepare her for what she would face outside.

She returned to the railing, double-checked that her key was in the pocket of the robe, held it out above the hollow in the stairs...

And dropped it.

The white robe quickly shrunk into a handkerchief, and then a speck, and then nothing. It was too far down for her to even see. Her only way back into her apartment was now at the very bottom of these stairs.

Dorothy's heart was beating extremely fast. But she resisted the urge to run down the stairs. The further down she got, the more likely she was to encounter somebody moving around, even at this late hour. She snuck down each step, peeking over into the hall to see if anyone was down there, and then jumping across the doorway. As she moved down the stairs, her sneaking turned into casual walking, not even looking around corners before she crossed the halls.

But then she heard the elevator ding.

Dorothy jumped back. She peeked around the corner and saw three people leaving the elevator... and they were coming her way. She wanted to cower, but... if they got out on this floor, why would they THEN go take the stairs to a different floor?

Forcing her hands away from her body, she put them on her hips, erection standing from her body like a coat hook. She heard the voices get closer and closer, she heard them unlock their doors, step inside... and then silence.

Dorothy poked her head around the corner. There was nobody there. She continued her slow descent, going into the lobby stairwell, where her robe had landed safely. Her key was still in the pocket. She could get back in her apartment at any time. She let out a sigh of relief, taking a seat on the carpeted floor beside the stairs.

Looking down at her pulsing erection... there was another kind of relief she was in immediate need of.

Dorothy spit into her hand and rubbed it on her cock, smearing it into her skin. She worked her cock a bit, gathering some greasy precum into her palm. She pumped her cock hard, looking out from the stairwell and to the main entrance of her building. Anyone could walk in at any second and she would have no time to react. She would be found here, jerking her huge cock in the stairwell totally naked. This would give her neighbors a bad impression of her. Dorothy never normally spit in her palm like that! She used lotion like a normal, well-adjusted futa who constantly masturbated.

With a tightly restrained grunt, Dorothy felt her orgasm approaching. She needed a tissue, or maybe a tarp. This was going to be a big one. But all she had to catch it was... was...

Dorothy grabbed the only thing handy: the robe itself. She buried the tip of her cock inside it and unleashed wave after wave of hot sticky semen into the soft, absorbent terry cloth. The orgasm felt like it lasted for minutes, leaving her legs shaking and arm exhausted.

A minute or two later, much too long to sit around naked and dazed, she gathered her thoughts, lifting the now heavier and jizz-infused robe. What on earth was she thinking? She can't wear this now. Trying to open the robe made the wet, ripping sound of trying to pull apart a very sticky jelly sandwich.

She was now on the first floor of her apartment building... completely nude. And she had nothing to wear if she felt she had enough. She was stuck down here with nothing but a ball of fabric soaked in her emissions. Anyone could enter the lobby, turn to their right, and see her sitting there jerking off her cock... again.

Again? Dorothy could barely believe she was doing it again, beating her stiff meat mere minutes after she came. Normally, orgasms were followed by rolling over and going to sleep while the endorphins and other positive feelings lingered, but here she was again. Her cock hadn't even gotten a chance to grow soft. It was like she forced it to stay awake by jerking it. There was no way she could jizz again so soon! This was pointless! It was like pulling the trigger on a gun with no bullets in it! Someone was going to see her! She had to... to...

Her teeth clenched, her abs tightened, and she cried louder than she meant, as she poured another load into her soaked robe. The world spun beneath her. She resisted the urge to pass out and fall asleep where she sat. She couldn't afford to get kicked out of another place...

A few minutes of pleasant feeling passed, and Dorothy returned to her feet. She held the robe in front of her groin and walked into the lobby. Nobody was around. Walking around like this seemed totally backwards. Yes, it was probably better to keep her cock hidden, but... her bare breasts and rear were still visible. Her breasts were lesser and her ass was... acceptable? Why was she hiding the only part of her that would REALLY impress?

She made it to the elevators and tapped the button with her elbow. In her current predicament, someone would not even know about her hidden part. That intense smell of sweet jizz would probably be attributed to a mysterious dude that had just gave her one. Of course, she didn't need a man to sling some white stuff. She could make a few more batches right now, feeling herself staying hard against the warm balled-up robe.

When the door opened and she stepped into the empty elevator car, she stared at the five buttons, one for each floor...

Dorothy took her jizz-slick hand and ran it across all the floor buttons.

The door closed and slowly lurched upwards, stopping immediately at the second floor. The doors opened, nobody was there, and the door closed again. Dorothy stood in the very center of the elevator car, holding the wet garment over her junk.

The elevator reached the third floor. Nobody was there. The door closed again.

Dorothy could barely resist the urge to masturbate again. The robe was too soft to use in this way... her cock throbbed within it at the very idea that someone would catch her in such a predicament.

The fourth floor came and went. There was only one floor left. One of these neighbors might even recognize her from her apartment if they'd seen her come and go.

Sadly, nobody was leaving at almost midnight. Dorothy scooted back to her apartment, barely able to contain her excitement. She wanted to cheer and howl. She'd never felt something so invigorating. It was like she was an amphibian that breathed through the skin, and clothing kept her from experiencing life the way it was meant to be.