A few years after an encounter with “Jennifer,” which is its own, separate tale, I was doing my usual drive-by attempts at online witticism with a semi-public conversation about nothing with her in a chat room of an adult dating site when “Claire” showed up. As a curvy brunette with an outgoing personality, she was lusted after by countless men who flocked to chat her up, disturbingly many promptly offering to collectively show her enough penises to fill a bottomless pit. My strategy was, of course, to politely acknowledge her presence and move on. As she looked at a few specimens she was curious about, offering commentary on them not unlike a young, female porn version of David Attenborough, I gave Jennifer a brief hint-hint in private, kept up my polite distance and waited until she chimed in asking if I was going to join the Claire-inspired webcamming parade just to make it an even number of cams up and running in the room.
“Oh no, no…” I demured. “I’m positive she has more offers than she even cares to get.”
“Maybe I want a reminder?” Jennifer tried again. “I mean it won’t be as fun as it was in person but it would still be nice to see.”
“Hmm… I don’t know,” I kept hemming and hawing in public while saluting her outstanding wingwomanship in private.
“Oh, did you actually meet him?” Claire chimed in.
“It was a long time ago, but yes, we met.”
Suddenly, Claire was very interested. After enough teasing and tactical encouragement from Jennifer, she started asking to see me on cam. I obliged, leaving myself fully clothed and chatting with her C2C without taking a stitch off. Finally, I gave her the peek she wanted later in the night and she was hooked in a manner that would make Barney Stinson proud of me. For the next month, Claire and I had regular chats online and via text, and cammed when the mood hit us. She was aggressive when really aroused, meeting my teasing with “dammit, I want that dick!” also camming in public while very obviously chatting with me. She was blunt, wild, and unapologetic about her big sexual appetite, all of which were big turn ons for me. Opening up in private, she told me about her rough marriage and divorce, and her subsequent, frequent indulgences in casual sex. I wasn’t the least bit scared.
Then, one day, she told me she had time off and started wondering what she should do, all the while mentioning how nice it would be to hook up with someone on her wish list. In retrospect, this should’ve been a red flag for what ultimately happened, but seeing my opening, I ignored it with the stereotypical male myopia in such matters. Confirming that I was indeed on her wish list, I teased her that she didn’t ask if I’d be willing to meet her for lunch.
“I didn’t think you’d be available,” said Claire in self-defense.
“I accumulated a fuckton of days off and the management wants me to use it before I lose it,” I said, which was actually true. I had the time off and desperately needed a mental health day.
“Well, shit… Do you want to drive down and have lunch with me?”
“Well, shit… When you put it that way, I would.”
Four days later, we met with a hug in a parking lot of a chain restaurant which was the best we could really do in Claire’s small town where the vast majority of the population worked for the military or its contractors on surrounding bases. Our fairly late lunch was… digestible, but it was really the company we were after. Immediately afterwards, she invited me for drinks at a bar that opened early to serve the first shift of workers coming from the aforementioned bases after a long, rough day of doing something classified. True to her word, the microbrews were excellent and we sipped beer and shared crazy stories as the hours went by.
“So, my place is right down the road,” she suddenly said after a short lull in the conversation while playing with her long hair. “Want to follow me there?”
“Might as well,” I shrugged with a sneaky smile.
Just as she said, her spacious, comfortable ranch was right down the road from the bar and I parked right behind her in the driveway. Inside, she gave me the grand tour starting with the kitchen and concluding with the living room where she briefly went off on her renovation and redecoration plans. At her invitation, I got comfortable on the couch and she sat down next to me.
“So what are you thinking?” she asked.
“That you have some good renovation plans,” I replied. “What on your mind?”
“How anxious I’ve been to fuck you,” she whispered in my ear as her hand ran up my thigh.
We kissed and let our hands roam each other’s bodies. Quickly working my way down to her inner thighs, I teased her with my lips and fingertips, parting her legs, hiking up her dress and kissing her vulva under her panties. As my fingers hooked the elastic to pull them down, she stopped me.
“Hold on. I think we should really go to the bedroom and get comfortable,” he said.
Shedding our clothes along the way, we burst into her bedroom. I threw her on the bed, once again spread her legs, and tried out an oral technique that I had then seen in a popular instructional video, one that I knew should work on woman with more pronounced and less sensitive clitorises like Claire. Fingering her while putting my mouth over the top of her vulva, applying some suction while I licked her clit in waves sent her hips bucking. She screamed in pleasure, chanting my name while her taste filled my mouth and my hands tried to keep her from bucking out of my reach.
She finally pushed me back, kissed me deeply, then dove mouth first onto my cock. It was one of the most enthusiastic, aggressive, and pleasurable things ever done to me. Withdrawing from her and tipping her onto her back, I reached for a condom.
“Do you really want to?” she asked. “We’re both clean, I’m on long term birth control, and I’m really not a fan of how they feel.”
“Sorry but I’m using it and that’s that,” I held firm.
“Ok, I understand,” she sighed with disappointment.
Rather than take it as a second red flag, I decided to tease her clit with the tip of my cock before putting on protection, gently sliding across her pussy lips and letting my tongue play with her nipples. Her hand grabbed my shaft and I felt her body shifting. Before I knew it, Claire was trying to slide me inside her bare. Swatting her hand away I jumped back with a wag of my finger to a sly grin from her. With the condom on, I dove inside her warm, wet, silky pussy and started fucking her with long, slow strokes, speeding up and slowing down depending on her body’s reaction to my pace and her breathing. As I found the right rhythm, I flipped her on all fours and started spanking her while lightly pulling her hair to appreciative growls and dirty talk.
We switched positions again and pulling off the prophylactic, Claire handed me her phone.
“Wanna shoot a little video?” she asked.
“Oh, sounds fun!” I immediately agreed.
As I framed the shot and touched the record button, she lovingly deepthroated me, moving her head up and down faster and faster, moaning as she tried to fit my entire cock in her mouth. It was a valiant, porn-worthy attempt, a minute of which I deemed to be plenty. Switching off the phone, I withdrew from her and let her get on top of me. As she grazed my tip with her hot, soaking wet vulva, I swatted her hands from under her and bucked my hips at the same time. By the time we met, I had been taking MMA classes several times a week for a few years and this was a classic move to break an opponent’s successful mount. She flew to the other side of the bad where I pinned her under me while she giggled with delight.
“I like that one,” she laughed, “maybe I can use that sometime,” she whispered as her hips moved to somehow make her clit rub circles around the tip of my cock and her lips met mine. I felt her tongue playing with my lips, her breasts pressing against my chest as she arched her back. Despite being restrained, she was still in command. Before I knew it, her ravenous pussy was wrapped around my cock, her bare, silky, warmth, blurring my vision, sending my thoughts in disarray. Still pinning her down, I began to thrust, fucking her bare until a few seconds later, what just happened finally hit me. Pushing out of her, I flipped onto my back.
“Do you want me to make you cum?” she offered.
I nodded and she immediately pulled her skilled mouth to work until the pressure inside me built up. Grunting and bucking my hips, I warned Claire how close I was. She simply kept going and as I exploded in her mouth, she silently swallowed every drop, draining me dry, and kissing my stomach as my climax finally died down.
“Want to help me next?” she asked.
“Of course!”
“Work three fingers inside me, ok?”
Doing as she asked, I felt her pussy clench while she rubbed her clit. Fingering her, I felt her entire body shake and clamp down as she grunted with pleasure. The grunts soon turned into moans and moans into a guttural, passionate scream as she came hard enough to almost break my fingers with her kegels. We fell side by side and kissed as I rubbed her back and shoulders. Looking back at it, I shouldn’t have been surprised at what happened next. After some light, pleasant conversation getting ready for round two, she excused herself for a minute and came back with a maxi dress. As I sat up, she put it on with nothing underneath, clearly saying that the fun was over. Her politeness turned cold. She got what she wanted, or at least as much as she was going to. It was time for me to go, which I did with all appropriate haste. While I knew what this was, the rough transition kind of rattled me, especially because it caught me off guard.
As my car pulled into the fast lane of the highway on my way home, there was a bad taste in my mouth. Did the encounter turn so sour because I wouldn’t willingly fuck her bareback? Which, come to think of it was disturbing because she tried to force herself on me bare until she finally succeeded, albeit briefly. Or was it just that she got the desired notch in her bedpost and my presence was no longer necessary? When women met me at my home, I always invited them to stay the night if they wanted, and always called them the next day to say hello to check on how they were feeling. Obviously, this kind of pleasantry was not going to be extended here, which made me feel really used. There were ways to have a casual hookup and not make your partner feel like a dildo or a fleshlight with a body attached.
But that wasn’t the end of it. The next day, I went online to find Jennifer excitedly telling me how much she loved my new video. Which was a problematic statement seeing how there were no videos on my profile, ever. The video was on Claire’s profile, she said. And true enough, the minute of oral action I shot the day before was now on her page and being discussed in enough depth to get me greeted like a porn star in the public chat room. Although the feedback was very congratulatory and positive, here was a video of me having sex, posted without anyone consulting me on the matter. In a week, Claire took it down after some of my online friends found out that the video was not a project between Claire and me for everyone’s enjoyment, but something I thought would be private that was shared with the world anyway, and voiced their dismay and displeasure through the grapevine.
I never talked to her again, not seeing the point. Unlike some of the men giving me props were implying, “banging the most popular chick in the room” wasn’t what I was after. All I wanted was a fun hookup with someone who was very much my type and turned me on, not drama and status that would last all of a few weeks. Despite my exhibitionistic tendencies, who I had sex with was only for me, not for public review and approval. People had guesses, but the goal was to keep them in the dark because it was none of their fucking business to put it bluntly, and people will always guess in situations like this. As far as I was concerned though, no amount of sex was worth the drama or the exposure that followed.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d70omc/how_to_unwittingly_become_a_temporary_porn_star