Scarlet Rendezvous

The husband fucks Mandy's ass with the dildo, and then tells the babysitter to get naked on her hands-and-knees next to Mandy. The girls does. The man then works the dildo up the skinny blonde's ass, making her taste her own ass by sucking the dildo.

Next comes the real thing. The man slides his cock up Mandy's ass, who's still on all fours. He fucks her, and tells the babysitter to watch.

"This is how big girls do it," Mandy tells the babysitter.

"Can I try it?" the girl asks.

"Do you think you're ready, honey?"

"I think so."

The man pulls his cock out of Mandy's backside, and then slides it into the babysitter's ass. He fucks her for a while. Mandy switches positions, getting in front of the babysitter and spreading her legs so the babysitter can eat Mandy's pussy while getting fucked up the ass doggie style on the bed.

The scene ends with the man coming in the girl's ass, a zoom close-up of the semen trickling out of her brown hole.

It was 23 minutes of the most excruciating sexual tension I had ever felt in my entire life. Mandy was completely cool and relaxed about the whole thing, as if she was watching someone else altogether. There was so much precum in my underwear, it had seeped through to my slacks, leaving a noticeable wet spot in my lap.

"Holy fuck," I said. "That was hardcore shit."

"It was okay," Mandy said.

"Did you have fun making it?"

"Not really. Probably because I directed it. So I was preoccupied with how it looked."

"You didn't enjoy it at all?"

"It's hard to explain," she told me, turning off the TV. "You're not really into the sex when you direct these videos. You're more concerned with getting the right angles, and if you're creating the right effect. But that's just me. I know there are plenty of porn actors who can relax and get into a rhythm enough to enjoy the sex. In the videos I made, even when I didn't direct them, I couldn't genuinely find the sweet spot. I've had much, much better sex in real life."

"That's surprising," I told her. "It sure looked like you were into it. That was still a fucking hot-ass porn video, either way. As a 44-year-old man who enjoys porn from time to time, I can tell you this was a real quality scene. I'm confident you achieved what you set out to do, as a piece of pornography, that is."

Mandy playfully kicked me with her foot. "Well thank you, Mr. Franklin."

"No, I mean it."

"I'm sure you do. I can see you blew a load in your pants."

She started rubbing her foot in my crotch. "You should make an amateur porn video with me," she said, and winked. "Being that you're going to be a big investor in the business and all."

"I should," I said. "That's a good idea. But we don't have a script. Maybe we should experiment off camera first, just to try to generate a plotline."

"Spoken like a true porn connoisseur," she said, and leaned over and started French kissing me again. We necked passionately on the couch like teenagers, panting, taking each other's clothes off.

She unbuttoned my black dress shirt, and ran her hands over my chest. "Your muscles are so big, Mr. Franklin. So strong."

She pushed me back on the couch and started kissing my chest. She ran her tongue down my stomach, unbuckling my belt and opening my pants. She slid her hand inside my pants and stroked my cock, getting it rock hard. She pulled my pants all the way down and got between my legs, running her tongue inside my thighs.

I put my hand on her head and she grabbed it, pushing it aside. "Hands off the hair," she scolded, and went all the way down on me, gulping my cock. She'd taken me down to my balls, her nose in my pubic hair. She stayed there for a moment, holding still, then came back up for air, sliding my dick out of her throat and gasping for breath. A strand of spittle hung off her chin, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"You taste so fucking good," she said.

I kicked off my pants and shirt, naked except for my shoes and socks. I took Mandy by the shoulders and lifted her up onto the couch, shoving her dress all the way up to her waist. I slide off her panties and got between her legs, pushing them back against her chest. I buried my face in her mound, sucking on her pussy hungerly, thrusting my tongue deep inside her, my beard tickling her clit.

She moaned and grabbed at my head with both hands, grinding her pussy against my mouth. Her thighs were trembling, her orgasm building.

"Condom," she said. "Coffee table. Bottom drawer."

I grabbed it -- a Trojan Bareskin -- tore open the wrapper and slipped it on. I got back between her legs and lay on top of her. She guided my cock into her pussy, my girth filling her to the brim. She moaned and let out a breath as I slid all the way inside her.

I fucked her slow at first, careful not to hurt her. I was 225 pounds of muscle, after all. She was a slim 120, at best. But soon we were in sync and our rhythm picked up, and I was pounding her good and hard, pinning her on the couch, legs back, ankles at her ears.

We came at the same time -- two monster orgasms. It was like late-afternoon in a rain forest, where the heat and humidity had been building all day, and the sky finally opened and rain poured down in sheets, swelling the rivers and streams.

And then the clouds parted and the sun shone through.

We found ourselves in Mandy's bed, laying naked in each other's arms.

"You should come to our video shoot tomorrow," Mandy said, head on my chest. "We're filming a new movie. It's going to be poolside at one of our actor's houses. I'm directing."

"That could be interesting," I said. I ran my fingers through her soft black hair. "Hey, I have a question I forgot to ask earlier today, when we were at your office."

"Sure. What's up?"

"Who's Sasha?"

"Sasha?"

"Yeah, Sasha. That name came up a few times when I was asking around about Scarlet Rendezvous. When I was doing some background research on the company. Who is this guy?"

"Sasha's our biggest investor. Kind of like our biggest shareholder. Remember when I said there's one person who's invested six figures in the business?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well that's him. That's Sasha. He's sort of like the owner of Scarlet Rendezvous, in a way."

"Really?" I said. "That's interesting. Would I be able to talk to him? Just to ask him some questions?"

Mandy picked her head up off my chest and looked at me. "Seriously? Why? Are you getting cold feet now?"

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm totally sure. I was just curious about him, that's all. I heard that he was a really successful venture capitalist, and I was hoping to speak with him to compare notes."

"Yeah, he's an interesting guy, for sure. Really private and mysterious, but very successful. I can try to track him down for you if you want."

"That'd be great. Do you have his phone number or email?"

"Not on me. Not in my phone, I mean. I can get it for you, though. I think Carol has it in the computer at the office."

"Cool. I'll just get it tomorrow then."

"Okay."

Mandy put her head back on my chest.

"Oh yeah," I said. "I have one more question."

"What?"

"There's this one actress who did a video for you guys a month or so ago. It was called 'College Coed Rendezvous,' I think. She had auburn hair that she wore in this sexy wedge, and had these amazing blue eyes. Do you know who I'm taking about?"

"Yes. Of course. That's Jackie Rendezvous. She co-directed that video with me."

"Right. I know that's Jackie Rendezvous. What I mean is, what's her real name?"

"Her real name? Like in real life?"

"Yes."

"Karina," Mandy said. "Why? Do you want to fuck her or something?"

"God no," I said. "I was just curious because she's got a lot of talent. I was hoping she'd make more videos. She's got that special quality, you know?"

"Absolutely. Karina is something special. The new kid on the block. I knew that the first time I met her six weeks ago."

"Would it be possible if I met her?"

"I knew it. You're trying to fuck her." She sat up and crossed her arms. "Do you even want to invest in our business, or was this all bullshit to meet Karina?"

"Mandy," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. "Hold on a minute. I'm still going to invest in your company, absolutely. I was just curious about her, that's all. There's no ulterior motive here."

"Okay," she said, and lay back down on my chest. "I'm sorry. I just get paranoid sometimes, that's all. There have been guys who've pretended to be interested in investing, just so they could try to meet some of our models and actresses. It happens more than you think."

"Yeah," I said. "I wouldn't do something like that."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. You're a nice guy, I can tell. You're in the military. You've fought for our freedom. And you know how to treat a lady."

"Thanks."

"I don't know if you're going to stick around tomorrow or not, but I hope you do. I really like you, Chad. You're a good man. I know you probably think I sleep with guys all the time, being that I work in the porn industry, but I don't. I haven't been with a guy in over a year. Then I met you."

"Thanks," I said again.

"Of course."

Mandy kissed me, rolled over and went to sleep.

***

I got up early, telling Mandy I was going out to get bagels and coffee. She was in the shower getting ready for the poolside video shoot later that day. I drove over to the Scarlet Rendezvous office, hoping to catch Carol there so I could get Sasha's phone number. I don't know why I even wanted it anymore, being that Karina was clearly in no danger. It was my paranoia and PTSD driving me, my subconscious belief that someone from my past was waiting to get revenge.

To my pleasant surprise, Carol was in the office, even on a Saturday morning. She was the perfect face for the business -- a middle-aged woman who wore round glasses and kept her red hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was the image of a sexy librarian if I ever saw one. When I asked about Sasha's number, though, I got a weird response. I was told it was unavailable, that he was a very private person, and that I needed to speak with Mandy to get the information I wanted.

"I just came from Mandy's apartment," I told Carol. "You can call her if you want. We spent the night together. She told me to get the number from you. I have Mandy's permission. Go ahead. Call her."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to say. I don't have Sasha's number or email. I can't give you something I don't have."

"Does Mandy have it?"

"I don't know. Ask Mandy."

"I did. Last night. She said you have it, that it's here in the office."

"It's not here, Mr. Franklin."

"Unbelievable." I put my hands on my hips. "How about Karina Sarsgaard? Her stage name is Jackie Rendezvous. I'm interested in hiring her."

Carol thought for a moment. "Yes, I have her number. Let me get that for you."

"Really?"

"Yes." She pulled up a spreadsheet on her computer. "Here it is. Ready?"

I took out my cellphone. "Ready."

She gave me the number and I programed it into my phone.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome."

I rushed out of the office, hardly able to believe what just happened. I got Karina's number, finally. But was it really hers?

Before I knew what I was doing, I called her. My hand trembled as I held the phone. It rang a bunch of times and went to voicemail. It was Karina's voice. She said: "This is Karina. If this is a business related call, push two. You know the drill. If not, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I took a deep breath. "Karina! Hey, it's dad. Long time no see. I'm down here in the Tampa area, and I figured I'd give you a call. I know we've had some issues, but I'd really like to talk with you. Please call me back when you can. It's dad. You have my number. Take it easy."

I hung up. My hands were really shaking now. I was having trouble breathing, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I got into my car and sat behind the wheel, trying to calm down. I was dizzy and the car was spinning.

My phone started ringing. I couldn't answer it because of the panic attack. I closed my eyes and waited. Finally, after about 10 minutes, I started to feel better. I checked my phone and realized Mandy had called. She'd left a message for me: "Hey Chad, it's Mandy. Just wondering if you picked up the food and coffee yet. Can you get me a sesame bagel instead of an onion? Thanks big guy. See you soon."

"Fuck," I said. I thought for certain that it was Karina calling. It wasn't. I wondered if I'd left a clear enough message for her. Did she know it was me? I tried to remember exactly what I'd said on the voicemail, but it was all a blur. It all happened so fast. Should I call her back?

No, fuck that. I didn't want to stalk her. She knew my number and that I was in town, and if she wanted to call me back, she would. I had to wait, bide my time. I couldn't go back to New York now. I figured the best thing to do would be to hang around in town, in case Karina did call me back.

I went and got the bagels and coffee, and drove back to Mandy's. She was in the kitchen in a silk robe, hair in a ponytail. She was on her laptop, checking out the subscription and traffic data for the website.

"There he is," she said when I came in the door. "What took you so long? You get lost?"

"There was a crazy line at the bagel shop."

She grabbed the bag from me and opened it. "Nice! You got me a sesame. I knew you were good for something."

After we ate breakfast, Mandy sat on the couch and painted her toenails. She was naked under her knee-high silk robe. I walked over and sat beside her.

She put her left foot in my lap. "Would you mind?"

"What?"

"Paint my toenails?"

"I don't do toenails. That's not in my job description."

"Says who?"

"Says my official contract. Read the fine print. I don't do windows or toenails."

She kicked my leg.

"Ouch," I said. "That hurt."

"Come on. Get the nail polish."

I took her fine-boned foot in my hand, admiring it. I started massaging her arch, rubbing my thumbs on her heel. I leaned forward and started sucking her toes.

"That feels amazing," she said.

I ran my tongue up her calves, kissing her legs softly. I spread her legs apart, moving my face between her thighs.

"Chad," she protested. "We can't. I have to get ready to go to work."

"We've got time, don't we? I can work fast."

"Later. Tonight. After the shoot. We'll do dinner again, and come back here. Then we'll fuck. You can direct the action."

Mandy got up and went into her bedroom.

"What about me?" I asked. "What am I going to do all day?"

"Come to the shoot."

"I think I'll pass. I feel a little hung over from last night."

"No problem. Stay here then. Take a nap if you want. I can trust you, right? You're not some psychopath who's going to rob my apartment, or go through my underwear drawers?"

"Don't give me any ideas."

Mandy laughed. "Well, just don't tell anyone I let you stay here, especially Carol. She'll think I need to get my head examined, letting a guy I just met stay alone in my place. But you served our country, so I can trust you, right? Plus, you'll soon be an investor with us. You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Not at all," I said. "Just waiting for some money to clear my account."

"Great. Make yourself at home then. There's some baked chicken and rice in the fridge. There might even be a few beers in there. Just don't overdo it. I want you rested and ready for action when I get home."

***

I was asleep in Mandy's bed when my cellphone rang. I didn't recognize the number. I answered anyway, but I was too late; the call had gone to voicemail. A minute later the message came through.

I got up and checked it. The person who left it was using a voice distortion device, the kind you hear during an interview with someone in witness protection. The message said: "Your daughter is one dead mother fucker. We're watching her. We know where she is."

I wasn't sure what I'd just heard was real. I was in that unsettling state when you just get up, between dreams and reality. I listened to it again: "Your daughter is one dead mother fucker. We're watching her. We know where she is." The voice was distorted and mechanical sounding.

I sat on the bed for a moment, wondering what this meant. My head hurt and I was having trouble concentrating. It was 1:17 p.m. After watching some television, I'd drank the three bottles of Heineken in Mandy's fridge, and ate the rest of the chicken and rice. I went into her bedroom and took a nap. I'd been asleep for two hours.

I decided to reach out to Karina. Another call was definitely warranted now. "Hey Karina, it's dad again. I don't mean to bother you, but I just received this odd call on my phone about you. It's probably nothing, but you know my motto -- better safe than sorry. Can you call me back please? Or maybe even send me a text so I know you're okay? Thanks sweetie. I love you. Bye."

I went into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, chugged it. I needed to rehydrate and get my shit together. What the fuck was I doing, drinking beer and lounging around? For a moment I thought it would be okay to relax, to let my guard down and enjoy myself down here in Florida. Maybe Karina was safe after all? Maybe she was even doing the right thing, getting involved in this start up business that could turn into something really lucrative. And I really did like Mandy, although I didn't want to admit as much.

Still, my 22-year-old daughter was making porn, and this was something that I wasn't ready to accept. What father would? Who knew what was really going on behind the scenes, whether she was being used or manipulated, or even abused. It didn't seem like she was in any trouble --Mandy did have a certain vibe that was swaying my opinion about the adult video industry -- but I hadn't talked to Karina in nearly two months. Until I saw my baby girl face-to-face, and heard from her own mouth that she was fine and living the lifestyle she wanted, I couldn't rest or relax.

I had to call Natalia. There was no way around it. I wasn't reporting anything to the police at this point. I grabbed my phone, scrolled through my contacts, hit her number. It rang and went to voicemail. No surprise. Why would I think she'd answer a call from me?

I left a message: "Natalia, it's me. I need to talk to you. It's very serious. It's --"

She was calling me back. I answered. "Natalia?"

"Kyle?" she said. She sounded upset.

"Yeah, it's me. Listen I --"

"They got her! They got Karina!"

"What? Who has her? What's going on?"

"I don't know!" Natalia said. "I just got a call from Karina! She said she'd been kidnapped!"

"You talked to Karina? Herself?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, just try to calm down a minute. Are you sure it was Karina? This could be a hoax."

"It was her, Kyle! Our fucking daughter! She's in trouble! It has something to do with you, doesn't it? Doesn't it!"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe. Probably. What did she say on the phone?"

"That she's been kidnapped!"

"I understand that. But what else did she say? This is very important, Natalia. Did she know where she was? In a car? Where did it happen? Did she see who took her?"

"I don't know! She said she was in Florida, in Tampa Bay somewhere. She was supposed to be doing a shoot for a film when --"

Karina was calling me. My phone vibrated and her caller ID came up on the screen.

"Natalia, hold on a minute. Karina's calling. I have to take this."

"It's Karina?"

"Yes. Let me call you back." I switched to Karina's line. "Hello? Karina?"

"Dad!" a voice said urgently. It was Karina. I could tell immediately.

"Karina? Hello? I'm here. What's happening?"

"Someone took me dad!" she cried. "I've been kidnapped! They have me in a truck right now! They have a gun to my head! They told me to call you and mom! They said they're going to kill me if you don't do what they say!"