The Porn Star and the Prostitute

Speaking of working out, that may actually be the best part of living with Dylan. He not only had some basic equipment in our apartment, but the building itself was in a slightly spendier part of town and had a full gym for the residents to use whenever they wanted. It was something I did before moving in -- working out whenever I could -- but since moving in, we often went together. I'd spot for him when needed, and he'd spot for me.

Lastly, if he REALLY needed some alone time, I could go for a nice long run. I actually did that every morning, running the four miles to school and catching a ride home with Anthony each afternoon. All in all, life was surprisingly good for me.

A glance at Dylan showed that he was probably asleep in the lay-z-boy. His blue eyes were sealed shut and his dirty blond hair was just messy enough to suggest that he'd been napping a while. As much as I really wanted to just generally chat with him on my lunch break, I didn't want to wake him. After all, whatever he did for a living, his odd hours usually kept him out until at least midnight each night, and last night in particular, I think he was out past 2 AM. He probably needed his sleep.

Personally, I had to practically inhale caffeine on an hourly basis just to keep going through all my classes, my homework when I deigned to do it, and my job.

My phone rang just then, and since I'd been checking the time, I managed to answer it before it could wake Dylan. "Luka here!" I sang out softly.

"Are you free tonight?" Asked a semi-regular client.

"That depends on how long you want me for. I'm already booked from 8PM on," I informed him.

"Damnit! I'm not free until after 9!" He lamented, then sighed. "What about tomorrow?"

"I'm almost always free on Thursdays -- for some reason. So yes," I replied.

"Great! I'm hoping to take advantage of my wife being out of town, so how's 9 to midnight sound?" He asked in excitement.

"Sounds good to me. Anything in particular you want?" I wondered, since this client often liked to get kinky with me.

"Definitely! I'm going to lock you up in a predicament harness and use you quite thoroughly!"

I laughed. "No problem, just remember that predicament play costs extra and that if you put any sort of gag in my mouth, you had better leave my eyes uncovered so that I can blink three times if I need to use my safeword."

"Don't worry about that, I have other uses for your mouth in mind!"

"I'll bet!" I exclaimed with a laugh. "I'm quite looking forward to it. I'll see you tomorrow at 9 and remember to have enough cash on hand, otherwise I can't play with you."

"I will," he promised before hanging up the phone. I hummed happily as I made myself a nice thick ham sandwich on sourdough rye.

"You know, I wondered," Dylan murmured, startling me. "It just seemed like there was a reason that you had a date with someone different every night, but I wasn't sure until just now. So you're a prostitute, huh?"

"Um..." I droned in hesitation. After all, I can't exactly confess that to most people.

"Do you have a bodyguard to ensure your safety during predicament play?" Dylan asked rather than press me for confirmation.

I shook my head. "No, but I don't even let that become an option until I know I can trust a person. This guy's... mostly harmless. He thinks he likes it rough -- and that's why he goes for bondage. But in actuality, he just wants to pretend he's forcing some poor schmuck to give him hour long blowjobs. It's nothing really."

"Alright, so long as you think you'll be safe. But maybe you should text me your general location just in case something goes wrong."

"Huh! You're taking this pretty well," I observed, feeling like I should be shocked but more blasé than anything.

He shrugged. "I can't exactly judge since I'm a porn star and a sex operator for a website."

"Sex operator?" I questioned in confusion.

"Bad word, sorry. Performer," he clarified. "I perform sexual acts on camera for clients on a website. I guess the only real difference between our jobs is that half the time I don't interact directly with my clients, and the other half I'm interacting directly with other paid actors."

"Whoa..." I exhaled in awe. Then I stroked my chin in thought. "Huh! That must make you a lot of money, since you were able to afford this place all on your own and have it well furnished."

He shrugged again. "I got lucky. I have a large following of avid and generous fans. Not everyone can make a decent living in this industry."

I nodded in agreement. "I tried it once, but I didn't really have what it takes to do it on camera in front of a bunch of people. Plus, what I was asked to do -- basic gangbang fucking, I guess -- turned me off. I much prefer to give my clients one on one attention where I give them exactly what they need, and very often, all they really want is my mouth and hands anyway. I mean don't get me wrong, it's full on fucking at least half the time, so it's not like I never do, but when all they want is a nice long oral orgasm, then that's what I'm happy to give them."

"I understand," he stated with a nod. "In fact, in many ways, that sounds really nice. I'm mostly asked for group scenes like threesomes, gangbangs, orgies, things like that."

I flicked my hand out to point at him. "Oh! NO WONDER you're always talking about threesomes and orgies! I was actually wondering why your dates were never with just a woman or a man instead of both. That makes sense now! And here I was beginning to think one on one sex just didn't do it for you."

He laughed. "Whereas last night, I actually did have just a single client. One of my fans paid rather a lot for a private session starting at midnight, and so, I was playing with myself for him via webchat until he was satisfied."

I couldn't help but laugh so hard that I doubled over from it. "THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING!" I roared. "No wonder neither of us ever wants to fuck the other!"

Dylan winked at me flirtily. "Well I wouldn't say I never WANT it, but I'm saving it for my fans and movies."

I nodded in agreement. "Exactly! And I'm saving it for my paying clients! So... how many movies have you done?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I've lost count at some point. An average of one a week for the last several years. Minus major holiday weeks. And sometimes the shoot can actually last several days because things go wrong during a take. It's actually very rare to get it all filmed in one take. The chemistry between the actors has to be just right, and even then, all the stars have to align and God himself has to be into it."

I laughed. "I'm glad I don't have to deal with that part! All I have to do is show up at the hotel room and give my client exactly what he or she wants. I'm lucky in that my clients are pretty evenly split between the genders -- which is exactly what my little Bi heart wants."

"Do you ever have Trans clients?" Dylan wondered, clearly curious.

"Not that I know of. I mean if they are, they haven't told me -- although I don't know that it would make a difference for me," I replied after a moment of thought.

Dylan nodded in understanding. "There's a whole niche fetish market for shemales -- which I understand to be different from Trans in that they would be M2F but they just have breast implants and leave it at that. At least until they decide to finish the transition. Anyway, I'm not sure why, but they're one of my hard limits. I once told you that I'll do it ALL, but that..." he shook his head. "I just can't wrap my head around having sex with one person who has both genders at the same time. I'd probably be fine if they had actually transitioned one way or the other, and I don't really know what it is about them that turns me off, but I am fortunate in that the company I work for respects hard limits."

I grinned. "That's another good thing about my line of work. I ALWAYS choose my clients -- or at least, if I don't like something about a person, I can choose NOT to take them on. I started with one very ideal client who gave me a lot of word of mouth references. ALL my clients come to me via recommendation, and so, I feel like those that truly like me -- my regulars -- have my back by not recommending me to anyone they don't trust. I'm sure it probably doesn't work that way for everyone."

Dylan looked speculative now. "Alright, but you still have to be concerned with your personal safety. For example, do you always use protection and how often to you get tested?"

I smiled at him. "I always use protection with new clients until they can show me proof that they tested clean, and even then we generally use protection. After all, a lot of them are married and don't want to get caught by giving their spouses something caught from me. So it's in their best interest to keep me clean. And I get tested once a month. So far, never caught anything more than minor infections -- which is why there's Monistat in the bathroom closet."

Dylan nodded in understanding. "Yeah, that happens to me sometimes too. But since I work with a company concerned for safety, none of the actors or actresses are allowed to work without current test results, so I also get tested monthly. How much do you get paid -- if you don't mind my asking?"

I tilted my head side to side. "It depends on things like what they want and how long they want me. Something quick and basic is about a hundred dollars, and the predicament play I have scheduled tomorrow will probably earn me at least a thousand. It really will depend on what exactly he wants to do."

"That's not bad for a night's work!" He complimented.

"What about you?" I asked curiously.

"I average a couple thousand per movie -- but keep in mind that I've made it in the industry, so I get paid more than other actors. The REAL money comes from that website since that has the viewers paying me directly in various amounts. Depending on how many are watching and how generous they're being, I can easily make a thousand or two a day."

I was fascinated now and didn't even care that I was so late for my next class that I basically had to skip it at this point. "So what do you do with all that money? Clearly you're not filling this place with tons of expensive bling, so... are you sending it to your sick mother or paying off debts or something?"

He gave me a probing look for a long moment, and then shrugged. "I'm mostly just putting it in a bank account and letting it earn interest."

That excited me. "You should hire an Investment Banker! Did you know that they have people whose JOB is to invest money for others so that they EARN a lot of money off their money?! It's like letting your money fuck like bunnies and watching it just grow and grow!" I ended in a mildly frustrated sigh. "Unfortunately, even though I'm doing well, I'm not truly making enough to hand it over to the bank to invest for me yet."

He stood up and walked over so that he could lightly bonk my head with his fist. "If you're that damn excited by it, why don't you use your accounting degree to get a job AS an Investment Banker?"

I snorted in amusement. "Banks don't generally like to hire people who cannot explain how they've been earning an income for the last several years."

"Ah," he stated, knowing full well that I was right and that putting 'prostitute' on a resume would more than likely get me referred to the police.

My phone rang again. "Luka here!"

"Hey, since you're skipping class, can you meet me somewhere for a chat?" Cory asked.

"Why aren't you in class? And more importantly, what's wrong?" I asked with a concerned frown.

He sighed morosely. "I think my girlfriend is cheating on me."

"Alright Cory, I'll meet you at the Olive Garden. My treat." And even though I wasn't hungry -- having just eaten a sandwich -- I could go for some dessert, so it wouldn't be a waste to meet there. Plus, at this time of day, it would be a relative quiet place to talk.

"Say hi to Cory for me," Dylan murmured.

"See ya later!" I sang out just before I kissed him on the cheek and took off.

Cory was so upset about the possibility of his girlfriend cheating on him that I couldn't get a word in edgewise and basically got to sit there savoring a delicious strawberry cheesecake as he rambled on and on about every little thing she'd done to make him suspicious. Eventually, he had practically dumped her in his mind and buried his face in his arms so that he could try not to cry over this fact.

I sighed and rubbed his back comfortingly. "You know, and don't hate me for this, but maybe you should ask her about some of this before you jump to the conclusion that she's cheating on you. None of what you said was: I caught her in the act -- so maybe she's innocent?"

"You think?" He asked hopefully.

Honestly, the evidence he presented was shaky at best, but if he suspected something, there was probably a reason to be suspicious. So I shrugged. "Well, convicting her in your mind before she's even had a chance to defend herself is a bit unfair -- to say the least. And the way you are now, you've basically ended things in your mind. Would you REALLY be better if you broke up with her and then found out that you were wrong?"

Cory sighed miserably. "All my girlfriends have cheated on me and I have no idea what I'm doing wrong."

"Not communicating with them properly would be my guess, but before you go blaming everything on yourself, THEY are the ones in the wrong if they're cheating. Even if you are an asshole and piss them off until they feel they are driven to it -- and I'm not saying that you are, you're actually a decent guy -- but even if you were, they would STILL hold a good half or more of the blame for cheating on you rather than picking a fight over your shitty behavior or just breaking up with you," I pointed out.

He snorted derisively. "That's a bit rich, coming from you!"

I raised a brow, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"You never have a girlfriend! You go on dates with a LOT of different women and I'm willing to bet that you don't tell them about each other, so, what? Half? Of them probably think they're dating you -- in which case you'd be cheating on them! How can YOU tell me to communicate more?!" Cory asked with a light glare.

I rolled my eyes. "First of all," I held up my pointer finger. "I'm Bi, so half the people I sleep with are men. Second," I added my middle finger, forming a narrow vee shape. "NONE of them think we're in any sort of committed relationship because YES I DO talk to them and lay out clear rules and boundaries. And third," I added my ring finger to form a W. "The people I sleep with sometimes ARE cheating on their partners and they tell me all about it. Know what I tell them? I tell them to fucking TALK to their partners and try to fix the underlying problem! But even so, it's none of my business -- I'm just there to fuck."

Cory sat back with an expression of shock. "I... I knew that you were sleeping around, but I never thought you were so heartless as to help people cheat!"

I was tempted to smack him. "Cory, the only reason they TELL me that they are cheating is because I don't judge them. I listen to them and even offer advice. Even if I decided not to fuck them out of a sense of moral obligation, they'd still cheat, they just wouldn't tell that person what they were doing. So my point about communication still stands!"

He narrowed his eyes at me angrily. "Have you ever fucked any of my girlfriends?"

I rolled my eyes at that. "NO! Why would I do that when I NEVER have less than 5 people who want to fuck me each night?" And besides, what I couldn't tell him is that I wouldn't because I couldn't charge them and risk them telling HIM that I was a prostitute, and at this point, I didn't need to have sex unless it was with a client. I got so much of it at work that I just didn't need it when not at work.

He pursed his lips and must have thought about how none of his girlfriends who had cheated on him had ever even mentioned me as a possibility. Eventually he sighed in acceptance.

"Fine, but man! You really shouldn't be the homewrecker like that!"

I sighed. "That's the completely wrong attitude to have about it. Think about it this way, if you were married and knew for a fact that your wife never cheated on you and YOU were hit on by a woman, is it the oblivious woman's fault for not knowing you're married? Is it you're wife's fault? No! If someone hits on you and YOU neglect to mention that you are married and take her up on the offer, then it's YOUR fault for cheating. Where my morality differs from yours is that I'm willing to accept that you might have a valid reason for doing so. I'm not saying it is a GOOD reason, but it's valid to you. YOU are trying to tell me that not only would the woman you are cheating with be at fault as a homewrecker, but that there are NO valid reasons for doing so. So I stand by my original advice: Go fucking TALK to your girlfriend!"

He growled a long sigh before nodding. "Alright Luka, you're right in that nothing good can happen if I don't know the truth. And strangely, I feel a little better about my love life now that I've heard more about yours."

I laughed. "No, you haven't heard about my love life at all! You've heard about my sex life, there's a BIG difference!"

He suddenly looked very worried about me. "Hey... why DON'T you have a love life?"

I took a deep breath as I thought this over. It was a very fine line of what I could tell him without telling him things I couldn't. "Well... mostly I don't WANT one. I like my sex life and I've never found any single person I thought I could love."

"WAIT!!!" He blurted out much too loudly. Luckily, there was only one other couple on the other side of the room and they barely glanced at us. "Wait wait wait! YOU DO have a love life! I just realized it! You said you're Bi! That means that you like guys too, right?! So that means that you moved in with Dylan because you're DATING!!!"

"Oh God! What?! NO!!!" I practically shouted. "You've got it all wrong!"

"Oh come on! I've been to his place when I drove you home from school and the like, and I KNOW that it's only a one bedroom apartment! I just thought you were crashing on the couch like at my place, but you're SLEEPING with him!" He exclaimed in all certainty.

I was at a loss for words for a moment and stroked my chin as I thought this over. "Huh... you know, if you look at it that way, this IS the longest I've slept in the same bed with the same person in my life! BUT! You're still wrong. I one hundred percent guarantee you that I have not had sex with Dylan, and so, we don't HAVE a love life."

"Well why not?" Cory wondered, sounding curious more than anything.

I shrugged. "Neither of us want to be in a relationship, and we both have plenty of sex with others. At this point, I consider him just a really good friend."

Cory got a sly expression on his face. "Maybe you should try it. Who knows? MAYBE you'd both like it!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Maybe when I'm old enough to retire." I checked my watch and sighed. "Look, now that I've missed my last class of the day too, I should really get back and do my homework before my date tonight."

"Oh? Who are you going on a date with?"

I smirked at him. "Just some bored housewife. I see her about once a month when her husband goes out of town on business. The hilarious thing is that he always SAYS he's going for a day longer than he really is and then comes to see me on that day before he has to go home."

"So... you're seeing them BOTH?" Cory asked with wide eyes.

"Yep!" I confirmed, blowing him a kiss as I tossed enough money on the table to cover the bill plus a generous tip. "But like I said, I've got to go!"

My client that night was normal. As I said, a bored housewife that just wanted a little romance and special attention. She wanted someone to make love to her like her husband used to when they were first married. Specifically: lots of oral foreplay and only a little actual penetration. It was -- perhaps shockingly -- my favorite type of encounter. I got to use my skills to make her feel good. To pamper her a bit and remind her that she's still a goddess. Then I got to fuck her until I'd had my fun too. All in all, my specialty.