Shame Recalibration

"Yeah fuck this slut, stud," she said. "Fuck me harder."

Her partner obliged, picking up speed as he drove deep into her. She felt her pussy convulsing with every stroke, seemingly resonating with the increasingly intense sound of flesh slapping flesh. She relished the weight of Mike's hands pushing down on her ass, his thick, calloused fingers finding purchase in her yielding flesh.

The first orgasm struck like a lightning bolt, piercing through her being. But Mike did not stop his assault, and with every subsequent stroke, it was as though the bolt forked throughout her body. The pleasure traveled from her core to her extremities, sending electricity through every last fiber of her being.

Still, Mike did not stop. And Jennifer remember those nights when he heard a woman through the thin walls, screaming in pleasure, and then in disbelief. She remembered the curiosity, the twinge of envy, and the ensuing embarrassment. And in the throes of pleasure, she wondered how she could have wasted so much time.

Mike pulled her off the counter, picked her up, and lay her on the carpet. He spread her legs apart and entered her with a thumb pressing against her clit. His other hand pawed at her breast, firmly taking hold, sending another jolt through her. She looked up at him, and she wondered about what else she had been missing out on.

Maybe who else. The thought surprised her, and then settled her. Maybe she was a slut after all. But that's not such a bad thing anymore.

***

THREE MONTHS LATER

"So, why'd you decide to get into porn?"

Jennifer looked up at the man holding the camera. She was in a hotel suite in Las Vegas that was set up for filming. There were two other cameras set up on tripods, surrounded by mobile lights on metal stands. The man was handsome, she thought, but over the last three months, she had become much more interested in what these men were capable of doing to her.

"Well," Jennifer said, staring straight at the camera, "I like fucking. And I don't mind being watched."

"Interesting," the man said. "You don't mind being watched, or do you like being watched?"

"I guess I kind of like it, too," she said. "Really, I'm just shameless." As she said this, Jennifer spread her legs wide to show that she wasn't wearing panties underneath her dress. Her wetness caught the light, her pussy glistening in arousal.

"Well that's going to get you far in this industry," he said, with a smirk.

"Good to know," she smiled back.

"Have you always been this way?"

"Not at all," Jennifer said. "I used to have real anxiety, but therapy helped me out a lot."

"Well I guess we have your therapist to thank for you being here today."

"That's right," Jennifer said. She stared straight down the barrel of the camera. "Thank you Dr. Roberts," she said, blowing a kiss.

"Thank you, Dr. Roberts," the man repeated. "Now, let's see you out of those clothes.

"Of course," Jennifer said, already finding a twinge of satisfaction in the work that lay ahead.