My Breakthrough Movie

I was paralyzed with all these thoughts as I lay there, slowly leaking Ryan's cum, proof positive we had fucked, just in case there was anyone there thick enough not to have been sure already.

There was one good consequence. The rape scene with the other love interest Chris, was rewritten. The scene was reduced to me being nude again, of course, as Chris ripped my clothes off after learning I had fucked Ryan, but in the rewrite, I managed to bean him with a frying pan, and run away, naked, to the safety of the neighbors. The director thought there was enough titillation with me running naked, my boobs bouncing all over the place, and with some nice shots of my ass and even my pussy, too, as I ran.

***********

It's truly amazing what some good editing can do to the raw movie footage. The end product, in the hands of our talented director ("Call me Hal"), rendered the sex tasteful. It didn't look like simulated sex, it looked totally real, as if I was really giving a blowjob, and as if we were really and truly fucking. The fact that we actually were, kind of helped, I guess. Even so, some of the footage was seamlessly blended with the footage of the simulated sex.

In addition, I really did look terrified by the attempted rape scene, and I agreed with Hal the director that overall, the movie came out better that way. He focused on my eyes, wide open with terror, rather than the cheap shots of Chris ripping off my clothes, exposing first my boobs, then later my pussy and ending with all of my nude body, although I assure you there were plenty of opportunities to lust over my body in the movie.

One thing that helped was that the rapist Chris (again, that's the name of the character; the man was named Hank), convinced himself that he really did want to "rape" me, having watched live the scene where Ryan and I fucked on camera. In the first take of the scene, Chris actually did manage to enter me before I pretended to bean him, but instead of stopping, he kept fucking me, even over the director's shrill cries of "Cut!"

I don't know why, but I was really into the fuck. I guess the sex with Sean, Eric, and Ryan had removed any intrinsic shyness I might otherwise have still possessed. I still played the part of the rape victim, hitting Chris and trying fruitlessly to escape, as he held me down and brutally fucked me, over and over and over again. He ended it when he unloaded his spunk inside me. I wasn't supposed to climax, and I didn't, but I had been close. I had been truly close.

"That was a superb rape scene, but as you were told, we decided not to have a rape scene," Hal the director said. "Didn't you hear me yell cut?"

***********

It happens often enough with actors: After the filming of the movie ended, but before it was released, Ryan and I dated for a while. There was a lot of talk about our movie, and it was rumored to be the sexiest movie ever to come out of Hollywood, the first movie for the online porn generation.

This built up interest, and the paparazzi began to follow Ryan and me around. We had to be careful always to close the blinds, and I only went topless once, when we were far from shore on a boat, but dammit some photographer caught me, and there I was, topless in the tabloids, and all over the Internet. Just wait 'till they see the movie, I thought!

Michelle met Ryan, I mean Philip, and she was all gaga over meeting a real live movie star. Michelle called all actors -- even me -- movie stars. She made a play for Philip/Ryan, and he dumped me for her, and the tabloids went wild, and soon Michelle too was seen topless on the front pages of the tabloids. Serves her right, say I!

I didn't care that much. Michelle, my best friend forever, was more important to me than a boring fling with a goddam handsome actor. All we really had in common, Ryan and me, was sex, anyway.

By the time the movie was released, seven months after it was filmed, I was involved with Hank, the man who played Chris in the simulated rape scene, which turned out to be a real rape scene, although I was giving full consent, just acting like I wasn't, because of the script. Hank was more interesting than Philip/Ryan. Philip/Ryan was still with Michelle, and the four of us went to the private screening.

Michelle watched the sex scenes with her mouth hanging open, she was so shocked, and I got truly nervous. Hank reassured me that the movie had been tested in front of small audiences, and that in this final cut there was nothing for me to fear.

"What was in the other cuts, that the test audiences didn't like?" I of course neurotically asked.

"Well, one had the explicit sex scene of me "raping" you, for example," Hank replied.

"Oh, my," I said.

"Yeah. Another version had a split-second view where you could see Philip's cock pumping away inside you, too. It captured your face, and you looked to be enjoying yourself to the max," Hank again.

"I'm glad they deleted those scenes," I said, shivering at the thought about how close we had come to being humiliated like that nationwide.

"How about you three re-enact the scenes for me?" Michelle said.

I glared at her. "How about the men do it with you, instead of with me?" I shot back, putting Michelle in her place, or so I thought.

"Okay, why not? It might be fun!" Michelle said. "What about it, guys? You two up for a little fun?" Michelle had decided, apparently, to out-slut me. I had never seen this side of her before.

We didn't reshoot the scene, but we all four of us did indeed have fun. I got to watch Ryan/Philip fuck Michelle to smithereens, and they got to watch Chris/Hank drive me to yet another almost epileptic seizure of a climax. Then, just to certify our slut status, I guess, we switched partners. It was glorious to fuck Ryan/Philip again; I kind of hoped he would come back to me at some point, but whatever dignity I still had prevented me from expressing that sentiment.

The real winners, though, were the paparazzi who had bugged Michelle's home. They got to see all four of us not only have sex, but then exchange partners and have sex again. At least they waited until after our movie was released before they put their video footage on the Internet. It probably commanded a higher price by then, anyway. I was a pretty young actress to already have an unauthorized sex tape released, and while it humiliated me, it also helped to solidify my new standing as the new sex starlet of Hollywood.

Due to the worries about all the explicit sex in the final cut of our movie, the movie was released selectively, in fine arts movie theaters in the major cities (LA, San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago, New York, etc.), but it got rave reviews. After the reviews came in, the studio released it nationwide, and I, for one, became a somewhat rich twenty-one-year-old sexpot actress.

Because of the somewhat explicit sex in the movie, there were protests at some of the showings in the Midwest, and at all of the showings in the South, except of course for Austin, Texas. The protests drove tickets sales higher, of course.

My father and my brothers got to see me fucking in all of my glory via the unauthorized video of our group sex session at Michelle's place. They got to see Michelle get ravaged too, for that matter, but I was mostly concerned about them watching me. Indeed, everyone in my home town saw me naked, and also engaged in sex.

Half the country saw me, it seemed to me at times, but somehow, it's worse when the people know you, when you grew up with them, or when they're family. I loved the fame, the success, and the praise, but the price to pay was rather high. What girl, after all, wants half the world to see her naked, and having sex, and having sex with two men at a time?

How do you face your father after he's seen something like that? Or for that matter, your brothers? I still haven't figured that one out. I'm such a goddam slut!

I told myself, quite calmly, that's the price of fame. It's all part of being a movie actress in this day and age, isn't it? Keith, Steve, and Mike all looked me up, for old times' sake. I was nice to them, of course; I had not yet become a monster. I did not resume any of our sexual activity, though, even though the guys really hoped that I would. It's not that I was now too good for them, it was more, hey, been there, done that. We had ended things for a reason, remember?

Things with my family were more complicated, and not in a good way, beyond anyone's imagination. I felt really bad about it, but what could I do? Anyway, I had to go next to Paris, where some of the scenes of my next movie were being shot. I was living the good life, and loving it.

************

When I got to Paris, you won't believe whom I ran into, right at one of the grand cafés in St.-Germain-des-Prés. He found me. He came over to my table, and he said, "There are no available tables. Mind if I join you, pretty woman?"

I gestured with my hand for him to sit. Rather nonchalantly I asked, "How are you Sean? What brings you to Paris?" Good actor that I am, I did not reveal how my heart was going pitty-pat with enthusiasm. I realized just then that I loved Sean. I'm not sure when the puppy love turned to adult love, but there was little question but that it had.

I wish I could discern if he loved me back. Well, maybe not yet, but by the time I was through with him, he would be mine, all mine. If you couldn't get a man to fall for you in Paris, France, you should just give up, right?

Then Eric walked in and pulled up a chair. Shit, shit, shit. The pitty-pats stopped, replaced by a familiar aching of my loins. This would really test my skill. "Hi, Eric. What brings the two of you to Paris?"

Sean managed to get me alone a little later, and he invited me to dinner. I had to cancel my plans to have dinner with the male romantic lead of my new movie, but I did. Sean took me to an out of the way charming French restaurant. It felt as if one had entered a time warp and was back in the 1970s or the 1950s, or whenever little French restaurants were the epitome of romance. I didn't even taste my food; mostly I was lost inside Sean's eyes. Subtlety, they name is not Jess. At least, it wasn't just then.

"This was fun, Jess," Sean said, as he walked me back to my hotel.

"I loved it. Seeing you again is like a breath of fresh air," I said, openly gushing.

"I keep remembering what you told me when Eric and I gave you 'lessons.' That was fun," he said.

"Yes, it was. Shameful for sure, but fun, nevertheless. You and Eric turned me into a slut," I said.

"I'm sure it was good for your career," Sean said.

"Yes, it certainly was!"

"Well, what you told me back then, was that you had been fantasizing about me for two years. Was that really true?" Sean asked.

"Yes, and I still do," I said.

"You still do? What do you mean?" Sean asked.

"Every time I have sex, not that I have it that much you understand, I pretend the man, or my dildo, or my fingers are you, Sean. I always see your beautiful face," I confessed.

Sean was stunned. He stopped walking. "Let me look at you, Jess."

"We're on a public street in Paris, France. I'm keeping my clothes on," I said, and we both laughed.

"I have a confession, woman," Sean said.

"Don't you mean slut?" I stupidly said.

Sean laughed loudly. "Touché," he said.

We looked at each other.

"Your confession?" I prompted.

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, Jess. I've watched your movie seven times. I even watch the illegal porn videos of you and Michelle almost every night. I'm obsessed with you," Sean said.

"That's not healthy, Sean," I said.

"I agree, unless it's love," Sean said.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked, suddenly possessed by an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies in my tummy.

"I don't have a ring or anything," Sean said.

"Neither do I," I said, not making it easy for him.

"Jess, I love you," Sean said.

"I love you, too. My hotel is just ahead. Want to do something about it?"

"Really? You love me too?" Sean said, almost disbelieving his own ears.

"With all my heart, and with all of my slutty body. You know, I wonder if they sell diamond rings in Paris?" I said, a smile enveloping both my mouth and my soul.

"I suppose they do. Good thing I packed my American Express card," Sean said.

"Never leave home without it, I hear tell," I said. "Well, here we are at my hotel. Want to come up to my room for a drink, or something? If you want to propose, you can kneel on my rug and spare your handsome pants."

"I'd love to come to your room for a drink or something," Sean said.

"No Eric, though. He's not invited. Keep him out of this," I said.

"If you insist," Sean smiled. "I've really missed you, Jess."

"Good. I know just how you can show me how much you've missed me," I said, and I took his hand and we crowded into the small Parisian elevator. "No, Sean. I stay dressed at least until I'm in my room," I said, batting his hand away and giggling, unable to hide my extreme happiness.

Sean obeyed, mostly. At least I still had on my bra and panties when we reached my room.