Chapter 1: Helping Hand

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“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” I asked Ginger as I got out of her shiny new Beamer. It was my first time going to a porn set. I had been approached by several people to make the move to it from dancing, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to make that leap.

I had been working as an exotic dancer for the last three years at one of the best clubs in Los Angeles. I got my start in Vegas, and then moved out to LA when I outgrew Vegas. It turned out I had enough of the classic California girl thing going with my perpetual tan and big tits to make me pretty popular with the regulars. I wasn’t really a featured girl, but that was okay by me. I didn’t exactly aspire to be the next Dita Von Teese. I met Ginger when she was headlining at the club. She quit to focus in her porn career, and it seemed to be paying off nicely.

“It’s fine. People bring guests all the time. Just stay out of the way of the cameramen and the shot sight, and you should be fine,” she told me.

“Not a problem. I have no intention of getting in anyone’s shot.” I followed her from the lot where her car was parked. It was a partially outdoor shoot. I could see a few trailers set up on the driveway of the mansion where the shoot was happening. “So what’s this about?” Other than orgasms, of course.

She smiled and said, “It’s a Tarzan parody. Wait until you see Tarzan.”

“Is he good looking?” That wasn’t a prerequisite for men in porn, unfortunately.

“Girl, he looks like a golden God,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “And he’s hung. No angles are needed for this one. I’ve been dying to make a movie with him.”

“Who?” I wasn’t up to date on the who’s who of pornography.

“You’d know him as Steel Johnson,” she told me. “His real name is Eric Northman.”

I stopped walking.

I wasn’t the biggest porn connoisseur on the planet, but I knew enough and followed enough dirty blogs on Tumblr to know who Steel Johnson was. Despite the cheesy as hell stage name, he was a good actor. Ginger was right about him being hung, and his scenes looked convincing. There were plenty of porn actors who didn’t seem to really be into the scene or the woman they were filming with. Not Steel. Those pretty blue peepers of his were full of emotions and more than once he’d made my ovaries quake.

“So we’ll say I’m Ginger,” I joked. Kind of.

“Not on your life,” she snorted. “Hell, I get off thinking about him. Have you seen the eye contact he gives? Ugh, it makes me gush just thinking about it.”

“I think his movies have caused spontaneous ovulation.” It couldn’t just be me. In fact, I knew from the comments on Tumblr videos that it wasn’t.

“It almost makes me nervous,” she chuckled as she started walking again. “Come on before I’m late. I’m going to be in hair and makeup for an hour.”

“How fancy can you get if you’re in the jungle?” I giggled. I followed her into the mansion. She left me in the entryway while she checked in with some chick with an earpiece and a walkie talkie clipped to her hip.

The mansion was enormous. I wondered how many porn movies had been shot there. We were in The Valley, away from all the concrete in downtown Los Angeles. There were people all over the place, most of them naked. I was still standing where Ginger left me when a tall blonde man wearing a T-shirt that said “I do my own nude scenes” strolled into the house. Aviator sunglasses covered his eyes, but I’d know that ostrich neck anywhere.

Steel Johnson.

He pushed the sunglasses on top of his head before he looked at me and gave me a polite smile.

“You lost, little girl?” he asked. It wasn’t creepy, or even perverted. It’s almost sounded playful.

“On my way to Grandma’s house,” I replied. “I think I took a wrong turn.” Or a right one, depending on how you looked at it. I couldn’t believe I was talking to the king of not just the jungle, but my spank bank.

“I could help you find your way,” he offered.

“Sounds like something the Big Bad Wolf would say.” Oh my god, I just flirted with a porn star!

“I promise I’m no wolf,” he purred. “I would definitely devour you, though.” He held out his big hand to me. “I’m Eric.”

“Sookie.” I shook his hand. I gave my real name too instead of my stage name.

“Nice to meet you. Who are you here with?”

“What makes you think I’m not working?” I asked. Our hands were still touching. I liked it. He had a good grip.

“I know everyone who is working today. I would remember you.” Those pretty blue-green eyes scanned up and down my body.

I’m available!

“Ginger invited me,” I admitted. “We used to work together at the Black Mustang.”

“Mmm, you thinking about crossing over?” He tugged my hand to get me to follow him toward a set of stairs. When we started walking he leaned over and whispered, “I promise we’re only going to see Grandma.”

Too bad.

“She’s trying to convince me,” I admitted. “I’ve never done anything in this part of the industry. Dancing was never a life goal, you know?”

I got into it because the money was good, I was young and I had a great body for it. As a little girl I wanted to be a judge. Stripping was a long way away from being a judge, and I was pretty sure my current profession tanked any shot I had at judgeship.

“Looking at your shape I’d say you’d do well. There’s a market for women like you,” he told me. We walked into a room that had a makeup chair set up. There were two women in the room setting out makeup and hair extensions. “Mornin’, ladies,” Eric smiled when we walked in.

“Good morning,” they replied in unison.

“Women like me?” I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted by that. I knew I wasn’t stick thin, but I didn’t consider myself a fat girl either. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but it wasn’t me.

“Yes, a real woman with real tits,” he said. “You have a perfect hourglass figure, Sookie. I’m sure you cause a lot of men to go home with a serious case of blue balls.”

“That’s my job,” I smiled. In choosing it I had lost my ultra conservative southern family. My father had been very explicit when he disowned me and told me I was a disgrace to my family.

“I bet you make a killing.” He pulled his shirt off and took a seat in a makeup chair. “I know you’d keep me hard.”

I’d like to test that theory…

“Thanks. That’s pretty high praise. I uh, I should go find Ginger.” Before I do test that theory.

“Mmm, but I’m having such a nice time talking to you,” he said. “Hell, I may actually get hard on time today,” he chuckled. He closed his eyes so the blonde could start to clean his face.

“I’m sure you will. It was nice to meet you,” I said.

He opened his eyes. “You too. I look forward to seeing you again.” He reached down to adjust his cock in his jeans.

I nibbled my bottom lip and ordered my legs to move. They wanted to go forward, bend at the knee and assist him, but I made them go backward instead. I exited the makeup room and backed right into Ginger.

“Hey, where’d you disappear to?” she asked me.

“Eric’s here. He introduced himself to me when he walked in,” I whispered. “He was flirting with me. That’s just normal porn set chatter, right?”

“No,” she whispered back. “I don’t think he really flirts with anyone, Sookie. Why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“I was going to look for you. Besides, I’m sure he was probably just being nice.”

“Or not, but now we’ll never know.”

“He’s got scenes to prepare for. I don’t want to distract him.” Except I really, really did.

“He gets ready by trying to get a hard-on. You’d be helping, not hindering,” she laughed.

She had a point. So did he, and I could help him with it…

I followed Ginger back into the room. She took a seat on the other chair. The hair extensions that were waiting for her were crazy long.

“Back so soon?” Eric smirked. I heard his zipper go down on his jeans.

“Ginger found me,” I answered, trying not to look at the zipper or anything else in that region, not that I hadn’t already seen it.

“It’s a good thing I put my ‘If lost return to Eric’ chip on you,” he joked. “Hello again, Ginger.”

“Hi,” she smiled.

I wasn’t usually very shy, but Eric did make me a little nervous. I took a seat on a folding chair in the back of the room and got out my cell phone so I could text my girlfriend Kennedy. She was going to flip tits when she found out where I was. I took a picture of Eric’s reflection and sent it to her. She knew I was on Ginger’s set, but she didn’t know who the co-star was any more than I did until ten minutes ago.

Kennedy: Shut your whore mouth!! If you don’t fuck him before the day is out we can’t be friends!

I burst out laughing, earning me the arched eyebrow Eric was famous for.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“No need to apologize to me,” he said. I noticed his eyes stayed on me in the mirror. His arm started moving slowly, rubbing over his still flaccid cock through his jeans.

“My friend said if I don’t fuck you before the day is over we can’t be friends,” I explained.

“Was that Kennedy?” Ginger asked.

Eric crooked a finger at me in the mirror, motioning me to come closer to him.

“Of course,” I answered. I set my phone down and got up. I didn’t know exactly what Eric wanted, but I had an idea.

“Would you like to help me with this?” He rubbed over his slowly growing erection.

“Oh, uh, I’m sure there’s a professional around here somewhere who can help,” I said. I’d never had sex of any kind in front of people before. I could probably lapdance him into a boner, but the makeup artist would get in the way.

“I want you,” he said. He took my hand to rest it over his jeans so I could feel his cock twitch. Those eyes were trained on mine, making me feel like I was the only other person in the room.

I couldn’t look away. I let him guide my hand and even though it had been years since I gave my first handjob, it was like touching him wiped the slate clean. That was the exact opposite of what I needed to have happen. His hand stayed on mine as I began stroking. I ignored everything else going on. His eyes were freaking hypnotic.

That is until a short guy with dark hair and Coke bottle glasses walked into the room with a cigar clenched between his teeth.

“You about ready, Eric?” The man wasn’t at all fazed by the handjob Eric was getting. He did look at me and asked, “Who are you?”

“Sookie, but I go by Wild Rose,” I told him.

“Are you on my payroll?”

“No,” I nervously answered.

“Stan, why can’t you learn to wait,” Eric chuckled. “This wild rose was trying to help me get ready when you walked in.” Eric stroked his big hand up and down my arm.

“I can see that. You got an ID and social security card with you?” Stan asked me.

“My ID, yeah. Why?”

“I’ll have a P.A. make copies and get you some forms so we can pay you,” he said. “Eric, you good to go in fifteen?”

I felt like I’d just been broadsided. Pay me? Ummmm…

“I’ll try to be,” he promised. Eric stood up from the chair and took my hand. “Wanna go somewhere a little more private?”

YES!!!

“Okay,” I agreed. I looked over my shoulder at Ginger. She was making an obscene hand and mouth gesture.

Eric led me to another unoccupied bedroom. He dropped his jeans after he closed the door behind us.

“It’s not as easy to get hard on cue as you’d think, even with a bunch of naked women around.” He grabbed my hand again to place it on his cock.

“Yeah, I can imagine. There’s a lot of distraction and whatnot.” I decided to be brave since it seemed I was really going through with this, and I let go of him so I could pull my shirt over my head. I hadn’t bothered with a bra.

“Mmm, that’s helpful,” he purred. His big hands found my tits. He cupped them gently for a moment before he started to pluck my nipples. “Keep stroking me, Red,” he requested.

 

Who? My name is Sookie… My brain may have short circuited a little bit but I still knew my damn name.

 

“Who’s Red?” I resumed stroking him after I licked my palm to give him a little bit of moisture.

“I thought you said you were going to your grandmother’s house?” He surprised me when he bent forward to suckle my left nipple.

I gasped when his lips closed around it. Damn, that felt good.

“I did,” I replied. I forgot. My head was so far away from that. My thumb, however, got really close to his rapidly swelling head. In fact, it brushed over his tip on the next upstroke.

“Mmm, that’s good,” he whispered as he moved to my right nipple. “Do you know how bad I want to fuck you.?” His teeth scraped over my sensitive bud.

“Is that against the rules?” I wasn’t sure what, exactly, fluffers did. I knew they got porn stars ready to shoot and kept them turned on, but I didn’t know how far was too far. If he kept playing with my nipples like he was, I’d be ready to go in a few minutes myself.

“As long as I can perform I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He dropped one hand to rub over my mound.

“It might take longer than fifteen minutes,” I pointed out.

“Wanting to finish with you will keep me hard,” he said. His lips traveled up my chest to my neck.

“It wouldn’t distract you?” I was tempted to go for it. So far my set visit was going very differently from what I had in mind. I wasn’t complaining, mind you.

“Not in a bad way,” Eric replied.

“I’ve never fucked someone within an hour of meeting them,” I confessed.

“There’s a first time for everything.” He nipped a spot just under my ear.

There sure was. A flood in my panties wasn’t a first, but the flash flood going on was.

“Good point,” I replied. “I think I’m overdressed.”

“Take your pants off.” His head dropped to my tits again. He swirled his tongue around my nipple.

I let go of his cock to unzip my shorts. I wiggled out of them and my panties. That was easier said than done with Eric’s lips wrapped around my nipple.

As soon as they were gone he reached down to probe my entrance. “Fuck, you’re really fucking wet,” he commented. He pushed two thick fingers into me and started to pump them in and out, curling his fingertips on each down stroke.

“You’re really fucking sexy,” I replied. It was easy getting turned on with him. He knew what he was doing. Years of experience with different women had been very educational for him.

Eric walked me backwards to the wall. He pulled his fingers out and turned me around. He made my put my hands up onto the wall and said, “Wait here. Don’t move.”

He left me there against the wall and I looked over my shoulder to find that he was retrieving a condom. I was clean, but since that wasn’t medically verified, I was relieved to see he was being responsible. Eric quickly got the latex rolled down over his cock before I felt the tip of his thick length rub up and down through my folds. When he found my entrance he pulled my hips out as he slid forward, filling me from behind.

Sweet baby Jesus in his manger, Eric’s dick is huge.

I had cashed in my V Card before my sixteenth birthday, so it had been ten years since I was a virgin, but Eric was easily the biggest I’d ever had. Big as he was, he fit perfectly inside me. His hips pressed against my ass on a deep stroke that made me gasp and my pussy clench to try and keep him buried deep. Eric grabbed onto my hips and began to thrust hard and deep. How I didn’t cum immediately, I wasn’t sure.

His hands didn’t stay on my hips for long. One moved around to play with my clit and the other grabbed my throat.

“Put your foot up on the chair,” he ordered. The deep baritone made my pussy pulse around his cock.

I did as I was told, and somehow he got even deeper. Eric pulled my head back by my throat, making my back arch. His pelvis kept slapping against my ass as he pounded into me over and over. He was definitely hard and ready to fuck. Steel Johnson was an appropriate name for him.

“I want to feel you cum hard for me, Sookie,” he whispered into my ear. His fingers sped up over my clit while the other hand tightened a little around my throat.

Oh I wasn’t going to let him down. It wasn’t possible. My eyes closed and I probably could have cut glass with my nipples, as hard as they were. The pressure exploded a few seconds later, making my body tense up and then start to shake. I made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a scream. My body went limp, but Eric didn’t stop.

“Mmm, just what I wanted,” he said. He nipped my earlobe before his hips sped up again. I felt a stinging slap on the side of my ass before he was back to rubbing my clit. I could feel his ragged breaths blowing over the back of my hair as he got closer to his release.

Unfortunately for him, that was when one of the assistants barged in.

“We’re ready, Steel,” she said.

“Fuck,” he muttered. His hips stopped moving and he leaned in to purr, “We will be finishing this later.”

“If you’re lucky,” I panted. I’d have to be in a coma for it to not happen.

“I hope I get really fucking lucky then.” His fingers were still slowly stroking my clit. “I’ll be right down, Belinda.”

My legs were still a little shaky when he pulled out of me. Eric peeled off the condom and tossed it in the trash.

“I guess I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Yeah. I’ll need the visual.” His eyes roamed my body. “Fuck, I’m going to be imagining you while I have to fuck someone else. Job well done.” Eric walked over to give me a lingering peck on the lips before he turned to leave the room.

I stood there leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. That definitely wasn’t part of my plans, but I didn’t regret it for a second. I quickly got dressed again and went back to the makeup room where Ginger’s hair was being done.

“You look like you need your hair done too,” she smirked.

“I probably do.” A look in the mirror confirmed it. Eric had a thing for grabbing hair. Mmm…

“Did you go in there and have sex with him?” she whisper-yelled.

“Let’s just say my friendship with Kennedy isn’t in jeopardy.” I grabbed my phone out of my bag to text her.

Me: I think I’m a fluffer now… his dick is amazing.

Kennedy: I. Need. Pictures.

Me: Of us fucking? I don’t think so, Tim.

That production assistant walking in on us was enough for me for one day.

Annnnnd that answers the question of whether or not I’m ready to get into porn…

I got into stripping because I was young and had no other job skills. Getting into porn was a whole other ball of wax. Yeah, I had some issues. Daddy issues included. That was a long, tangled web. The long and the short of it was that I was molested by my grandmother’s brother as a child and my dad didn’t believe me when I told him what was happening. He called me a liar and punished me for making up stories. So from the time I was six until I was thirteen, Uncle Bartlett got his hands on me pretty much as often as he could.

He only stopped when I finally got up the courage to fight back, and that meant he got a Louisville Slugger to the goody bag. My brother had believed me, as did my cousin Hadley, who ended up strung out on drugs in New Orleans. Heroin was her drug of choice, but she’d do whatever she could get her hands on to support her habit. I dropped out of high school at sixteen and left home. I moved in with my first boyfriend, a twenty-two-year-old who had no business dating a teenager. I got a job as a nanny for our neighbor, Arlene. Her two kids Coby and Lisa where two and four. Coby’s dad was living with them in their little single wide trailer at the time, and even though he was old enough to be my dad, it didn’t stop him from coming onto me.

I ended up in Vegas because I went to a cage fight with my ex-boyfriend Mickey, who liked to smack me around sometimes, and one of the guys in the fight happened to see Mickey slap me across the face when someone bumped into me, causing me to spill beer on Mickey. Quinn didn’t respond well to that, and the fight almost got called before it even started on account of Quinn jumping off the ring and slapping Mickey back hard enough to KO his ass. Mickey and I broke up that night.

Quinn won the fight, escorted me back to the trailer to get my things, and then took me back to Vegas with him. He seemed like my Knight in Shining Armor at the time. I didn’t know the armor would rust so easily. Fighting wasn’t Quinn’s full-time gig. He owned his own business and spent a lot of time travelling with it. So between his work, the training and the fights, I didn’t see him much. When I did he was mostly interested in lackluster sex and mildly interesting conversation. I got bored and started job hunting.

I interviewed at a few places but none of them paid enough for me to be able to support myself. Thanks to Quinn, I had gotten a taste of the finer things in life and I wasn’t interested in going back to being Trailer Trash Sookie, so when I spotted a billboard for the Pussycat Lounge. I knew things with Quinn weren’t going to last, so I needed to figure out how I was going to support myself. My first night there I was nervous as hell. It took some time and a few new friends who were veterans at dancing for me to get comfortable doing it, but once I did I couldn’t imagine taking an office job.

I wasn’t sure I could imagine myself doing porn either.

My mind wandered to where Eric might be downstairs. I was definitely sticking around because like he said, we were going to finish what we started. It would be totally worth it.

1 Sookie

more please

16 thoughts on “Chapter 1: Helping Hand

  1. Oh hell! I got to the end and actually whimpered when there wasn’t any more! Lord, I need a cigarette! I want Sookie’s job… Too bad there aren’t many Erics in real life… That was fabulous ladies! More, more, more, please!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Dang it all. Reading this on my cigarette break… Now I need another cigarette! Maybe a cold shower lol.

    Back to work. Geepers. I’m not going to be distracted… At. All! Lol.

    Awesome job.

    Very very yummy! Thankyou ladies! Look forward to more 🙂

    Like

  3. I had to come and tell you this cos it’s got me giggling. There is a fete tomorrow here in Richmond (Yorkshire, UK). There is an illusionist performing, called Steel Johnson. No kidding, that’s the name on the poster. Its quite a longshot, but I might have to go, just incase..

    Like

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