I took the subway with my huge black dufflebag. When I got to the Delmonico hotel, I went straight to the elevator without looking at anyone. No one asked where I was going, and I pretended I knew what I was doing as I made my way up to the tenth floor—room 10D, the Willard C. Scott suite.
I rang the bell. Jeff answered, already well into his role of overanxious parent, eager to introduce me in rapid succession to several other pasty-faced white men. There was Bill, who’d be shooting the video (the video camera ran during the whole shoot, providing documentation for legal reasons, a source for more stills, and actual porn video footage); Nathan, the photographer, blond, kind of cute, with really pale blue eyes; Ken, who’d be doing the web programming and acting as general gofer, dark-haired, pleasant and innocuous; Peter, the photographer’s assistant, who wasn’t at all pasty-faced, with his dark skin and dreads; Sarah, the makeup artist, quite beautiful, with long dark brown hair. Jeff hadn’t been sure that she would be part of this shoot, so this was a pleasant surprise. It meant there’d be one more lady on the set, and that I wouldn’t have to do my own makeup—two bonuses in one.
Then there was Eliza, my compatriot. Her boyfriend was also supposed to show up, but he never did, so it was just the two of us. I didn’t fully gather where it was that Eliza worked for her regular job. It was some After Hours place, and it involved S&M, despite the fact that she really didn’t seem aggressive enough to be a dominatrix. She was tall, around six feet, skinny, with brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes—cute in a bland kind of way. Whatever her background might have been, she didn’t appear overly professional, which meant one less factor to intimidate me. I couldn’t tell if she had any more of an idea what to do than I did.
After we’d all been introduced, Eliza got whisked off to have her hair and makeup done while I showed Jeff, who was just as nervous as always, what costumes I’d brought. He was especially flustered as he explained that Eliza and I were going to be the only girls, so they’d definitely want me for more than the 2 to 3 hours. I agreed to stay until 10, and he offered me water and food, in Jewish grandmother-style. I sat on the couch and tried to ignore him. Eventually, after I’d put my feet up and closed my eyes, he got the hint and went off to hover somewhere else. I kept my eyes closed and waited for it to be my turn to do something.
Finally, it was my turn for hair and makeup, which meant that Eliza had begun her shoot. Sarah and I totally hit it off, but, despite the conversation, makeup lasted forever. The eyes alone took what felt like an hour, as Sarah coated on layer after layer after layer. I had foundation caked on, goldish shimmer all around my eyes, pounds of mascara, heavy eyebrows, super lipliner, and gangsta-chick brown/gold lips. In my opinion, I looked pretty frightening. I looked like a Tammy Faye makeup disaster. Nathan, however, was pleased, and that was all that mattered.
My first outfit was pretty simple: black push-up bra, black g-string, bondage belt, and strappy heels. The shoot itself was easy. I lounged around on the bed, in various stages of undress, looking sexy as hell. I even got to pick what kind of music I wanted—G. Love and Stabbing Westward, perfect music for a porn shoot. The last shots were of an entirely naked (except for the bondage belt) me with my large pink vibrator shoved inside—classy, sophisticated, and oh-so-stereotypical. I was glad I’d been sensible enough to bring my own. Even if they were cleaned, I knew where mine had been.
I rolled around, shoving the pink plastic in and out, looking cute and seductive, as Nathan photographed, and Peter adjusted the lights. Basically, that was it. Except for a few closeup shots of vibrator-in-vagina that made me feel a little objectified and made me think briefly of the overweight men who would be sitting at home jerking off to my ass, I kind of had fun. No, that’s not true—I definitely had fun. As long as I wasn’t thinking about those men, I reveled in the intense affirmation. Like a cat being petted, I moved about, and Nathan told me I looked hot. And great. And beautiful. I felt like purring. He told me I was a natural. I felt supersexy.
I had never felt like this before.
Then they brought Eliza in for some “two chicks goin’ at it” photos. Those weren’t as much fun. I didn’t mind doing them, but they felt a lot more awkward and contrived. Nathan didn’t provide very much in the way of instruction, so I took the lead, performing all the obligatory moves, seemingly inspired by all the affirmation.
Eliza was nice, sort of passive, but relaxed and comfortable with what I was doing. We moved around together for a while as Nathan shot and Bill taped. We didn’t do much in the way of kissing since she’d just gotten her tongue pierced, and I felt weird doing it, anyway. For some reason, licking her clit was fine, but putting my tongue in her mouth made me uncomfortable. That was too personal, somehow.
Then Nathan finished his roll and left. Now it was Bill’s turn. This part I definitely did not like. Eliza and I were instructed to “make out” for what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable positions and awkward moments. I licked her clit, she licked mine. I sucked on her breasts, she sucked on mine. I stroked her thighs, she stroked mine. I kissed her, she kissed me. It was the most bizarrely unsexual sexual thing I’ve ever done.
Bill wanted more shots of me shoving a vibrator in and out of Eliza. Luckily, I managed to avoid having the same done to me. Even though I was using lubricant, the large plastic thing never stopped feeling huge, hard, and uncomfortable. I shoved in and out, bored, tense, and tired, while she kissed me, and we both moaned. I really didn’t think Eliza knew what she was doing any more than I did. Then Bill requested a 69, so I went back to licking her clit. It was weird. Eliza had white liquid oozing out of her. I couldn’t believe she was actually turned on by this. We licked and licked and moaned until Bill said, “Simulate orgasm and you’re done.”
We moaned louder, with varying crescendos, for what felt like fifteen minutes but was probably only four or five, and then the ordeal was over. Thank god we could get away with faking it all. The last thing I needed was more performance anxiety.
Eliza and I clambered off the bed. There wasn’t much point in getting dressed again, since everyone had seen everything anyway, but I gathered my belongings to make sure nothing got lost, slipped on some underwear for hygiene purposes, and headed back to the main room. I was exhausted and hungry.
It was already ten o’clock. Time to leave. I’d only committed to being there until ten. That was the deal. $200 until 10 o’clock. I was more than ready to collect my money and head home for a nice shower and real food. Jeff’s little buffet wasn’t cutting it anymore.
Unfortunately, no one seemed to have any idea that my time was up.
Eliza was having her makeup refreshed while Nathan finished setting up the lights for the next part of the shoot. I found Jeff to remind him that we’d only agreed on $200 until 10. Jeff, anxious and flustered, said he had to consult with Nathan. They consulted while I ate some fruit. Even though I’d told Jeff that I was a vegetarian, all the sandwiches were corned beef. I couldn’t complain too much though—they did have lots of fresh fruit, they got me coffee, and Jeff kept foisting bottled water in my direction. I figured most of the amateur porn shoots I’d be involved in wouldn’t even have that. But now I just wanted to go home.
I knew Nathan was planning to keep shooting, so I wasn’t sure what he and Jeff would decide to do about me. I really wanted to leave, but Nathan wanted to shoot more in the hotel suite and then to do a quick shoot somewhere out on the West Side Highway. The suite was enormous, and I understood why they wanted to use as much of it as possible. There was a large living room, a sitting room, a kitchenette, two bathrooms (both with bathtubs), and the bedroom. Jeff had also discovered that the door to the adjoining, unoccupied suite was unlocked, which gave us even more room, including a kitchenette entirely paneled with mirrors. I could see why they wanted me to stay as late as possible, but I was worn out, and I deserved more money for my time.
Jeff came back from his consultation with Nathan to tell me that the $200 would be until midnight. If I stayed later, I’d get more. I told him I couldn’t stay later. I was annoyed that I’d be staying for the two extra hours without getting more money. That was not at all fair, especially since based on Nathan’s approving commentary, I was Hot Stuff. I was getting ripped off and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I hadn’t gotten any money up front, so, if I left now, it would probably be empty-handed. At least, I deserved my $200. At least I was learning the importance of getting money up front.
I paced about, feeling my tension seeping into the room, as Nathan took pictures of Eliza on the counter of the mirrored kitchen. I changed into my next outfit. No one told me what to wear, so I just put on my zip-up leather dress and heels. I had Sarah “freshen up” my hair and makeup. Then I waited.
I didn’t understand why they were photographing Eliza even though I had to go, and she didn’t appear to be in any rush at all, but clearly no one, least of all Jeff or myself, was going to tell Nathan what to do.
Around 11 o’clock, it was finally my turn. I could tell that Nathan and Peter were doing their best to move quickly, so I tried to relent and be cooperative. They set the lights and the cameras up in the foyer. This part of the shoot revolved around me sitting on a small bench. It didn’t seem terribly sexual or even pornographic. I sat on the bench, and Nathan took several rolls with my zipper in various stages of removal. Bill kept coming in and suggesting poses (“Why doesn’t she get on her hands and knees? Why doesn’t she put her legs up? Why doesn’t she…”), and Nathan kept telling him that things looked great the way they were, or just ignoring him straight out.
I sat and leaned forward, leaned back, looked up, looked down, for about an hour, and then I was done! Finally done. I removed as much makeup as Sarah and I could scrape off easily while still leaving me presentable, grabbed my money, and bolted.
I studied myself in the elevator on the way down – skinny girl, high heels, huge duffle bag. We had managed to get most of the makeup off, Sarah had even combed my hair so it was slightly less shellacked, but I still felt like I screamed *PORN*! I felt fucking sexy, despite being tired, sweaty and caked in various fluids—something about exuding it for seven hours can do something to your head, and I felt high off it.
Would people be able to tell where I had come from? The smell of Eliza’s pussy seemed to be everywhere. I knew I had vestiges of lubricant between my thighs. My lips, raw and swollen, looked like they had just come out of a heavy-duty makeout session. All I could hope was that no one would be able to guess where I’d just been or what I’d just done.
Not that there was anything wrong with it.
I just didn’t want anyone to know.