Sex Writer Symposium: 04

Tonight finally, on Day four of Zhay's Sex Writer's Symposium, the fantasy I described back on day one awaits me inches from my face.

These notes, of course, are written in retrospect, because with Beth's silky thighs spread wide to lust-wrap Elle and me in her fuck space, there's no room for a pen, let alone my messy, messy sexed up notebook -- though that trusty notebook is never too far away.

Can one giggle on paper? I, Heidi the employed erotica writer, just did.

Good thing it's cameras now, it helps me recall magical day four. All week we spent training with some of Hollywood's premier triple-scale camera folks, amply paid for their expertise both in cash and in kind. The kind part of course being us being very, very kind to those cute smart camera guys, letting them sample our girl body goodies after work days -- and we their guy bods.

Unorthodox for porn work as it goes, but we are a little different, a bit more relaxed with our staff and contractors here at Porn Next Door, International.

By Symposium day 4 you begin to understand how hard the porn work really is. You appreciate great fuck films more than ever, and you understand why some very well-meaning porn makers just give up on the organic fucking and do the easy formula stuff -- which unfortunately tends to turn hot lovers into caricatures.

It's so hard to just let yourself go and fuck when you worry about what the camera sees, whether you're in the right position, whether everything is just so, every little distracting nuance.

We want our camera work to stand out from all others because we want our camera eyes to see us fucking like we mean it -- every time. Every scene. Every way. Not just reality films -- there's that whole genre of course -- but Fuck-Like-You-Mean-it-Because-You-do.

You getting off, me getting off is most important. Anything the lucky camera gets is always secondary.

So, where am I? Oh, yes, in front of the camera worshipping Elle's sweet, sweet, mouth.

I can't believe how intoxicating Elle's mouth is.

Between Elle and me, a mere tongue thrust away, Beth's pussy is opening beautifully, a tulip beckoning spring.

Elle first, then I, reach a tongue to that sweet pussy and let it sizzle our senses.

Pussy rules. Along with its kissing cousin cock of course.

Kevin and Richard run the two main angle cameras now capturing silky strings of wet nuance dancing on our tongues.

Simple premise. Jack is going to fuck Beth while Elle and I kneel on either side of our darling Beth making out and cleaning up the impending mess. All impromptu.

So goes Elle's debut directorial scene, in which she also cast herself as starlet. Convenient that she chooses Jack for the scene since she knows I've been wanting to devour Beth's cunt since day one when I watched Beth devour Elle and I've been fucking Jack every spare minute.

Now both. Wow.

I, Heidi the horny girl, am literally shivering at the alternate taste of Beth' cunt and Elle's tongue on my taste buds while Jack dangles his dick precariously near Beth's nose, bobbing onto her tongue.

But, alas, just as Heidi the whore starts her descent into sexual satiation, Heidi the Writer's writing hat cascades down around her ears with a resounding thud.

And writing is a large part of what I, Heidi, get paid the big bucks for.

* * *

How can this feel so...so...fucking GOOD? Really? I Heidi, the writer/operator I've become, despite the bucolic German children's literature connotation of my name, am southwestern born and bred, fundamentalist family, average looks, heavy hormones, basic values. Very, very basic values.

Now, for Christ's sake, I am nearly naked, lying between the legs of a girl, feeling her thick pussy fluid on my mouth, licking the lips of her girlfriend, watching my favorite guy lube up the girlfriend's mouth as he prepares to fuck her.

And then he's going to pull out of Beth's body and fire his boy cream into our kiss? Onto our lips? Onto Beth's breasts? And we're going to lick it and like it? And, and, and...it was all Elle's idea?

Guys, applaud.

I should feel some sort of hesitation, no?

Why don't I feel hesitation? Why do I feel the warmest, golden glow of passionate love and lust instead of the furious fires of hell?

I mean, trust me when I say I have NOT become my mother. And somehow, somehow, beneath all of my stuff and her stuff, I think, even though she might ignore certain aspects of my behavior, she would know what I'm about, and...dare I say?...approve?

Do I really know my...?

So why do I feel this glow?

Here it is: Everyone in this room, those with cameras, those with lights, those bringing drinks and towels, those scurrying in the shadows with makeup and prompt cards -- are all part of this fuck -- my fuck, Elle's fuck. Beth's fuck.

Zhay's words, Denys's words ring more clear every day. No one is here who does not want to be here more than any other place in the world. In this room. Fucking. Fucking in every conceivable way. Fucking anyone else in the room, fucking everyone else in the room.

Never will one scene with the Porn Next Door holographic logo show a person who doesn't want to be here.

Oh, yes, we will act roles sometime that look like we don't want to be here. We are actors. We act roles both to extend our own sexual boundaries and to use some scenes as bait for those who would force others to their selfish will, but we all are here to fuck. We would be no other place in the world.

And the odd part? We are not really sluts or porn stars, per se, much as we aspire to those heights of humanity. We are working folks.

Stay tuned for more on that.

We are doing something else. It all looks the same, but something feels different. Something fundamental is different.

That's why I write these journals. To describe things that look and feel a lot the same -- but are diametrically, diabolically different.

Different like day and night.

Different like heaven and hell.

Our days involve unfettered, infinite fucking. But believe it or not, as I tried to say in my Day 3 notes, fucking is a fine by-product of a much larger thing we are doing in our days. Our days are so full of other things that the fucking seems like a delicious, welcome respite from some tough things, often horrifying things.

Yes. It feels good, really good, really warm, really -- dare I say...like being home -- to fuck here.

It is human warmth. It is human warmth to which we have added soft multi-colored lights and images, and music, and sounds. We are creating sex of the gods, love of the gods.

Oh, don't get me wrong, it's not always soft lights and color film for our fuck sessions. We shoot lots of straight, stark idea-capturing video in our rooms, in twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, moresomes -- or masturbating alone.

We shoot stark black and white film to practice our emerging sex craft, to build ideas, to get used to being naked and fucking and practice being open, being seen by others being naked and fucking -- and all the while meaning it.

We all have piles and piles of amateur fuck films in our cottage closet shelves -- along with Gone with the Wind and Free Willy and Dorothy and Toto.

Me masturbating next to Scarlet succeeding.

And, oh yeah. Lots and lots of Rambo.

Understand this: We also crave straight fucking with no cameras. Just classic legs spread, pussies wet, cocks slamming home, grunting, groaning, pounding, messing everything up. We still love that kind of fucking, love making, make no mistake -- nowadays, we crave straight lights-out fucking even more than the filmed fucking, because we crave the reality underlying our art.

Real unadulterated fucking (somehow, I suggest, not as much an oxymoron as it might seem for group sexers) brings us back to our basic values and passions. Imagine that.

But to build our craft we use cameras and lights and all the tools of the trade.

We use our cams all the time. Now when we travel the globe we never go without at least two notebooks and two suitcases.

One suitcase always carries my frilly underwear, my Guess jeans, my Victoria bras, my Harley hair braid wrapper, my lipstick, my copy of the latest paperback.

The other holds my camera gear and our other type of, shall we say, projecting gear. I'll leave it at that for now.

The point is we use cameras, lights and all the accoutrements of professional porn -- but we go for a different effect here -- trust me. We live, or at least make a living, by fucking; but it is just as true that we fuck so that we, and others, can really live better lives.

When you immerse yourself in fuck as deeply as we do, it's hard to come back out to the real world. But we know we must. And we know we can because we love coming back into this fuck world as much as we do.

Heidi Writer's writer hat drops to the floor with a resounding thud.

* * *

Jack has moved to center stage between Beth's legs, leaving a string of his thickening self dangling from Beth's lips, across her tits, toward Elle and I on Beth's nether end, as he moves to her plumped pleasure zone.

Elle and I have taken turns bouncing our mouth lips onto her pussy lips, plumping her, teasing her, sculpting her horny.

Elle and I then spread to either side of Beth, slide up and down with Beth between, now hovering at her face, kissing her messy mouth, kissing as three, sharing tongue, sharing breath, fingertipping Beth, fingertipping us, stroking cheeks, twisting nipples -- now lovingly licking her cunt, really lubing her up.

Rich and Kevin film us with their new world-class expertise, un-underweared dicks unabashedly bulbous in their baggy shorts, indecently aroused with our fucking, building toward their own orgasms over the course of a long evening of filming.

No pretence at professionalism for these guys. They want to fuck. They will get theirs, I swear -- oh, yeah, I will see to that before I towel off tonight.

For now, however, fill Beth Jack. Film me guys. Film me fucking.

And then, Richard, Kevin, guys, when we're done with Beth, put down your cameras and come to me.

Contribute cum.

* * *

Jack is gorgeous and sensual tonight as always.

I feel you Jack. While you fuck Beth I am closer to your cock than when you are fucking me. I am watching you approach and engage Beth -- she wants you to do this a lot.

Elle, nibble my tongue now. Slow. Deliberate. Drool me, baby.

Drool. Spit. Saliva.

Underrated in erotica, certainly in porn. Definitely in most mom and pop fucking.

Mouth liquid that tastes like people. It's just more cum. It's mouth cum. Taste it. Gather it on your tongue where you can get real with it. Elle, don't move your mouth much. Let me be with your tongue cum for awhile.

Your spit gathered on your tongue. Your breath blows across it, sending fertile liquid you straight into my guts through my nostrils. I inhale you.

I drool you down my chin to prolong the pleasure. Spit mixed with skin mixed with the lightest suggestion of sweat. Then from down below, a pinch of pussy mixes with your mouth smell.

I shiver like a sailor in a ship shower in Arctic ice.

Here is what Beth, pillow-perched, sees:

At Beth's right breast, I, Heidi, kneel. Heidi's wilting hair bobs in slow motion, Heidi's face is flushed.

At Beth's left tit, Elle leans over to me, mouth messy, bangs blond, tongue-tempting Beth's tit, tongue tasting me. Rinse. Repeat.

In breath-breaks between our saliva-sampling, Elle and me lean back like curtains to unveil the stage so Beth can see the opening scene of the play in her pussy starring Jack.

Jack is huge and Jack was already soaked with Beth's mouth when he moved down between her legs to do her. As he passed Elle on his way to Beth's privates, Elle captured him with her mouth.

Rich is barely a blur with his camera pulling up tight to catch what Elle does to Jack before he fucks Beth.

My eye-camera snaps on Elle's electric green eyes smiling up Jack's torso, to his tits, to his face, as she draws him inside her mouth.

But not so much with her mouth, Elle fucks Jack with her green, green kitty eyes, letting his dick lie dormant on top of her tongue while she smile-sucks him, pupil to pupil. In fact, if it weren't for Jack slipping his dick ever so lightly back and forth over Elle's tongue, eye to eye with her, there would be little movement - because Elle just eyeball-fucks him, curving the non-stretched remnants of her lips into a smile around the edges of his tree trunk glistening cock.

Spit, that sweet spit, of course, gathers when something is simply held in the mouth without motion. And so it does now. A pool of Elle's clear saliva builds and overflows, filling both her cavernous mouth, and Kevin's camera with lust material.

I lean over to catch what spills and to lick the parts of Jack that are not inside Elle's mouth, bathing my tongue in Elle's spit pool.

Sticking my tongue into that pool, of course, makes the spit overflow her lips, fountain down Elle's pretty flushed cheeks. Jack politely pulls his dick out of the way and moves to center stage at Beth's cunt where he picks his dick up and just lays it there on top of Beth's thickening pussy. He leaves it there while he watches us proper ladies swap spit.

Cheek to cheek, chin to chin, tongue to tongue, Beth guides our face-fuck using our hair for puppeteer strings to script us.

"Fuck her, Jack. Do it now." Elle moves her script forward.

"Yes. Fuck me now, Jack." Beth shivers and grinds her heels into the cushion, positioning for action.

Now Jack is close to her and poised but he is not yet fucking Beth. He has not fucked Beth. He has never fucked Beth.

Yes, thus far, he has only held his dick there on top of her pussy. Both of them wet and willing -- imminent. But still, at this point, they can still honestly say they have never had sexual relations with that person.

Now, NOW, on the other hand, as we watch from inches away, NOW Jack HAS fucked Beth and she has fucked Jack.

In those last seconds, his dick nudged Beth open. Elle helped hold her cunt lips out of his way on one side, I held her cunt lips open on her other side, so she wouldn't fold over and slip inside with him like happens when clumsy hungry football boys hurry too much when they get in a hurry with station wagon cheerleader girls.

Slow...down...a...little...guys.

Warm her up first guys...and girlfriends.

Just let Jack go inside and you stay outside Beth.

We all watch with our messy mouths open while Beth goes, in one slippery second, from never having fucked Jack, to now having fucked Jack, now forever having been fucked by Jack. Fucking and being fucked by Jack and forever sanctioned and approved by her forever friends.

Wherever two or more of you agree on a thing, so it shall be sanctioned...

Beth leans forward watching herself be fucked, eyes trying hard to follow him inside her, shoving and angling her bottom toward him, angling her girl bottom wide as she can to help him fuck her.

Yes. Now he is...definitely...inside her.

She is totally fucked. Not flooded yet, but fucked, and working on the flood part.

She is stretched. Oh, she is full of my Jack. Wall to fucking wet wall, cock shoving outward on inside cunt skin, working so hard to push out while craving so bad to stay inside forever.

Inside pussy skin is moistly shoving back its appreciation.

I said I could describe this forever but the rest blurs into universal motion. In, out, around, it almost becomes voyeurism now as Elle and I fade to peripheral and Jack and Beth focus to feel their first fuck.

We friends, the smell, the taste, the feeling of bare skin, the moisture. We wait patiently. We watch and wait for them.

I know Jack. And Jack is going to come now.

I can see it in his chest muscles before I feel his breath catch somewhere deep in his lungs.

"There you are, baby," I murmur. "Give Beth your stuff, baby."

Jack looks love right straight through my eyes into my soul.

It's complicated.

Jack is fucking me, Heidi, while he is fucking Beth for Elle for Zhay for someone in China.

Time, timeless, timelessness.

It's complicated.

No hurry here. Bathe in bodies. Now, while we can.

The poor we will have with us always, and always we will reach to the poor, but we have us tonight, for now.

So let us bathe in bodies.

Here is Jack's sperm now.

Come, Jack, come. Do it.

Beth's skin is wet beneath my fingers and Elle's fingers. Beth's face is flushed with red, red splotches matching those on her chest. Beth's tits are taut. Beth's nipples are granite hard, rock-candy sculpted. Beth's hands are tightly twisted into the cloth cover.

Beth likes a lot being fucked a lot because it makes her feel vibrant and alive and full and powerful and real. Beth told us this last night when Elle described this scene to us. Beth forgave herself in advance to me last night for liking this so much using Jack. Now Beth is just wearing Elle's desire at face value. We're all good.

Cum is pouring out of Jack and he is making loud sounds like uhhh, auuugh, unhhh -- exactly, but in a lower pitch, than the very same sounds Beth is making while his cum is pouring inside her.

Elle and me just sit quite and still and happy and watch them pump each other. We peer through the blurred fuck frenzy at the edges of Beth's body for evidence of Jack's emptying contribution.

There...now there is the evidence.

Washing out around his sloshing self is white, clear, thick, thin, silver, smelly, salty, sweet, tasty, secret, sacred, well...cum.

I can't see this, but I know what is happening inside there from my bachelor's degree and my Ph.D. electives in sex biology.

Beth's desire made her plunge herself over and over onto Jack's cock to create procreative pressure -- think suction.

Her wetness, helped out a lot by me and Elle licking her and fingering her, as well by her own mounting desire, sort of merged with Jack's early leaking starter semen to form this powerful suction from which none of the little sperm guys are likely to escape her body. See? A suction cup that feels real good so you won't stop fucking till you're done.

Well, when you do this piston suction thing long enough, feeling so good it makes you make animal noises you never knew you know, it sort of draws out, sucks out if you will, this nerve response in Jack's loins that sort of propels his little semen sperm cum reservoir like a fire hose directly toward Beth's back wall where lie strategically-spaced, various baby-making organs.

His flood of sperm, if he is virile, and Jack is virile, smashes so hard against Beth's clutching, milking, churning body that it splashes back toward the front and her pumping and squeezing and churning forces quite a bit of his semen back out of her body as he pushes in and out, in and out, over and over, fucking, unfucking, fucking, unfucking.

Well. That's what Elle and I are watching for now - replete with ravenous lust.

That's what is so fucking hot and human that Kevin and Richard are not giving a fuck about being camera dudes any longer.

Kevin and Richard, the cameras, and those enormous pulsating working class cocks, you may ask?

Well, one of those cocks, Richard's that is, suddenly appears around my vision corner pointing and waving lip-ward toward my teeth in his now camera-less hand.

"Still want this Heidi?" he asks, a bit breathlessly, flashing me back to my begging at the river last week. Remember?

"Yes. In fact I do want this, Richard. Thank you."

I can barely believe the size of this thing I am squeezing into my oral cavity.

Elle, over there across Beth's breasts from us, is having similar difficulty with Kevin's cock, but she is nothing if not perky and persistent, using both hands and twisting her face into distorted positions to try to pack Kevin's monster into her mouth.