[MF] How I accidentally became an amateur porn star

Sometimes life gives you foreshadowing. In my case, it came when a very drunk fellow at a college party insisted that I was a porn star and he felt that he had to call me out on it because that was just such a mind-blowing accomplishment to him, he had to lead a toast in my honor. His enthusiasm made perverse sense, seeing as horny 18 year old guys tend to think porn is the ultimate job, although it was disconcerting that he was so interested in my involvement.

Reader, I had never been in porn flick by that point, and all my friends were extremely confused as to when I found the time to bare it all on camera, well aware that I was busy with a full class schedule and several freelance tech projects. Aware that arguing with a drunk person was a lost cause, I did as the Madagascar penguins instructed: just smiled and waved, albeit with an eye roll and head shake.

“What the hell is he talking about?” asked one of my friends.

“No idea,” I grunted out of one side of my mouth while raising my shot glass.

Of course, this isn’t a story about a college party. No, this is a story of a chain of coincidences that turned a drunken frat bro’s horny misidentification prophetic. Sort of. This is a bit of a roller coaster ride for which I will ask your patience because the more backstory you know, the more bizarre and funny this gets, and warn you that it ends in a punchline absurd enough that I won’t begrudge you for your skepticism.

It all started with a recently divorced woman we — as proper etiquette for these sorts of stories demands — will pretend is named Carol. We periodically chatted for months after running into each other on a swinger site because I made her laugh. We generally kept our distance despite often discussing sexual topics, but that changed one night when she told me about the time she tried phone sex and the man on the other end of the line sounded like Mickey Mouse.

Unable to stop myself, I convinced her to continue our conversation on the phone. As soon as she called, I did my very best Mickey impression.

“Hiya boys and girls! Say, what are you wearing?”

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped, “that is exactly what the guy sounded like!”

“And after he came, did he say ‘Woohoo! Woohoo! Wowzers!?’”

“You are terrible.”

Shortly after that night, she very obtusely asked whether I’d be willing to go on a date with her. It probably won’t come as a shock that I agreed. The next day, she pulled up just as I arrived at the hotel. Dodging my attempted handshake, she gave me a big hug as we went up to the room to drop off her things. Mine were left in the car. After getting her settled, I treated her to dinner and drinks over a very pleasant conversation about life, the universe, and everything.

After driving her back to her hotel, I asked if she wanted me to come up, or whether she’d prefer the rest of the night to herself. She practically dragged me to her room where less than an hour later, I indulged her fantasy of being spanked and pounded while blindfolded and tied up. Yes, we established a safeword, she made it known this was something she was into before the date, and enthusiastically consented during the act.

Aside from that, it was just a standard, pleasant night of casual sex, but she was apparently impressed enough to submit a testimonial to my profile that I was indeed capable of delivering an extremely decent weinering. We’d eventually drift apart, busy with our own lives, so much so that I even managed to forget her user handle and hadn’t talked to her for at least a few years. Until one day…

You see, dear reader (hey, that’s two shoutouts now, just in case you wanted to know how important I think you are), when some swinger sites have public chat rooms, there usually emerges a group of vocal regulars who more or less dominate the discussion. One of the best ways to get noticed and build a reputation as someone safe to approach was to be on these regulars’ good side. Talk to them as you would in any normal social event, stay polite, and try your best to maintain your composure, and there’s a very high chance you’ll be frequently greeted and chatted with. (And felt up at meet and greets.)

But sometimes, there’s a disturbance in the Force, something akin to a gravity wave from a pair of colliding neutron stars forming a hyperactive black hole upsetting the natural motions of the cosmic fabric. And it’s almost always an attractive, extroverted woman with a cam and a taste of exhibitionism. This is all meant as a statement of fact, not some sort of judgment. If he who hath not cammed naked for validation was to cast the first stone, I would have to put mine down.

And this brings us to “Katie,” who appeared in the chat room in question and more or less stole the show. She was young, loved to cam, and resembled porn star Kelsey Monroe. (Who I know is on Reddit, so my apologies if you read this Kelsey, this is just to paint a mental picture.) This meant that the chat’s cam list instantly became a verifiable sausage factory bin of specimens submitted for quality assurance.

I decided to stay out of the fray for the simple reason that trying to out-simp the horny hordes is like trying to divert a tornado with a paper fan while not being an Airbender. In the meantime, Katie offered public analysis and commentary on the Great Cyberwall of Cock like a female David Attenborough narrating a special about Chatrubate.

“[My username]! Hi sweetie! Not camming today?” asked a user with a vaguely familiar handle.

“Nope,” I typed. “Not in the mood and there’s way too much competition if I was.”

“Oh, I’m positive Katie will want to see what you’re working with…” the user countered.

“Eh, she has plenty of choices.”

“Fine, maybe I really wanted to see you again. It won’t be as fun as playing with you was, but I’ll take what I can get.”

An icy drop of sweat ran down my brow. Did… did I have sex with this woman and forget?! What should I say now?! “We’re sorry ma’am, please enter your pussy number so we can locate your account. Your orgasm is important to us, and we will handle your request as soon as possible in the order it was received?”

“Wait [her username], you actually met him?” perked up Katie.

“I did!” the user eagerly responded. “He was so fun, I even left a testimonial for him!”

Aha! Only one testimonial called me “sweetie” and it’s far from my favorite term of endearment, so it very much stuck in my mind like a thorn in a paw. I dialed up a DM window with my surprise wingwoman.

“Hey Carol!” I typed. “Long time no see!”

“Yeah! Way too long!” Carol replied.

“I appreciate the kind words and the marketing work.”

“Well, maybe I really did want a little reminder…”

After enough teasing and tactical encouragement from Carol in the main chat, Katie started talking to me, finally asking to see me on cam. I finally obliged, leaving myself fully clothed and chatting with her C2C without taking a stitch off. At the end of the night, to her and Carol’s great delight, I provided the peek she seemed to so badly want. To my surprise, she was hooked, insisting she had to strip for me in appreciation.

Next time we interacted, I managed to get her so riled up that she masturbated on cam until she came, then with shock on her face typed “Oh my God, what did you do to me? I’ve never shown my pussy on cam before!” to a decidedly mixed reaction in the public chat. Responses oscillated between “thanks for your service!” and “bastard has all the luck.” Which was fair. It really did seem that with an enthusiastic endorsement from Carol, I had some sort of cheat code to Katie’s attention and curiosity.

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. Opening up in private, she told me about her rough marriage and divorce, and her subsequent, frequent indulgences in casual sex.

At one point, she even sent me a video of herself giving someone what looked like an amazing blowjob that easily rivaled anything you’d see in professional porn, telling me how much she loved that video because she felt it really showcased her skills and reminded her how much fun she had doing this. I wasn’t the least bit scared. If anything, I liked that upfront, exhibitionistic, passionate, almost feral viciousness.

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 and organize a little group outing so we could get out from behind our screens. In retrospect, this could’ve been a red flag for what ultimately happened if I was aware of the full context of her statement, but finally seeing my opening, I went in guns blazing.

“Dare I ask if I’m on that wish list?” I typed.

“Oh, you know you are,” she immediately replied.

“So did you not want to meet me for lunch or…?”

“I didn’t think you’d be available,” said Katie in self-defense.

“Well, I accumulated a fuckton of days off and management wants me to use it before I lose it,” I replied, which was actually true as I had the time off and 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 the parking lot of a chain restaurant which was the best we could really do in Katie’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. The handful of people who joined us quickly split afterward, probably sensing where all this was ultimately heading.

Immediately after they left, she invited me for drinks at a bar that opened early to serve the first shift of workers coming from the aforementioned military 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?”

“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 literally next to me. The only reason she could not sit closer was described in physics textbooks under the heading “The Pauli Exclusion Principle.”

“So what are you thinking?” she asked.

“That you have some good renovation plans,” I replied. “What’s 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, 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 delicate 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, every bit as passionate as the video she sent me a few weeks earlier. Withdrawing from her and tipping her onto her back, I reached for a condom.

“Do you really want to?” she frowned. “We’re both clean, I’m on long term birth control, and I’m really not a fan.”

“Sorry, but I’m using it and that’s that,” I held firm.

“Ok, I understand,” she sighed with disappointment.

As she pouted, I decided to tease her clit with the underside of my shaft before putting on protection, gently sliding across her pussy lips and letting my tongue play with her nipples. After just a minute or two of this, her hand grabbed my shaft and I felt her body shifting. Before I knew it, Katie 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. But failing to get me inside her bare by surprise definitely soured the mood and she almost winced in anger every time she actually saw the condom.

At a certain point, I felt that we needed to change the prophylactic. As soon as I took it off, she pointed to my erection with a stern expression.

“I hope you’re gonna wash that thing before it goes in my mouth because ew,” she said quite excoriatingly.

“Uh, yeah, right, of course,” I said, rushing off for a quick sink wash.

Jumping back into bed, we returned to foreplay — or would that be mid-play at this point? — and I mentioned that it felt amazing to live out the video she sent me in response to her questions as we lazily played with each others’ bodies, neither of us having come yet but seemingly enjoying prolonging the fun.

“Oh yeah, you liked that?” she giggled.

At this point, I honestly forgot how the conversation proceeded, but a minute later, her phone was in my hand, as 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 or so of which I deemed to be plenty to be recorded for posterity.

Switching off the phone, I withdrew from her to reach for another condom. Before I knew it, she grazed my tip with her hot, soaking wet vulva and a fraction of a second later, my bare tip was inside her. I brought my legs closer to my body, pushed my feet into the bed, swatted her hands from under her so he fell forward, freeing my swollen member, and bucked my hips at the same time.

This was a classic move used in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu to break an opponent’s mount, one that was drilled into me by thrice weekly MMA sessions. Completely unprepared for my defense, she flew to the other side of the bed where I pinned her under me while she giggled with delight.

“I like that one,” she laughed, “maybe you can teach me 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. Again, her ravenous pussy was trying to wrap itself around my cock, her silky warmth beckoning me. Once again, I broke away.

If the mood was in critical but stable condition before, it was now coding.

“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, I warned Katie 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.

I wasn’t too surprised at what happened next. After some light and pleasant conversation, 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 hinting that the fun was over. Her politeness turned cold. She got as she could get from me, and it was clearly not what she wanted or how. It was time for me to go, which I did with all appropriate haste.

But that was not the end of the story.

The next day, I went online to find Carol excitedly telling me just how much she loved my new video. Which was a problematic statement seeing how there were no videos on my profile, ever. The video, she said, was on Katie’s profile. Just as I was about to check it out, a friend texted me “Oh my God, you didn’t let her, did you?” My gut realized what happened before my brain as I clicked on the profile link. In the legendary words of Wayne from Letterkenny: Oh. Oh fuck.

She uploaded the video and it was now the prime topic of conversation in the public chat as the regulars tried to figure out to whom the erection belonged.

“Lucky motherfucker” groused some.

“Wait, didn’t she have a guy of some sort?” asked some of the ladies.

“It wasn’t me, I left right after lunch,” said one of the guys who was present at the outing.

“Well, who else was she with?”

“[My username]. That’s who it has to be! They kept flirting all the time, so he’s the only one who makes sense.”

“[My username]! Did you fuck her or what? Lucky dog!”

“Asshole. Bangs the most popular chick in the room and brags about it!”

My mind raced back to that college party and the drunken frat boy announcing that I was a porn star to my befuddled friends. Well, thanks to Carol’s exemplary wingwomanning and my lack of self-control, I was now an unwitting amateur porn star.

“She was seeing a guy!” said a woman who now knew I was online. “Why would you post that?”

“I did not know the video would be posted,” I said. “Who was she seeing?”

Over the next few hours a bonafide internet soap opera unfolded. It turned out that after our last chat about a meetup, Katie canceled her plans with a guy who was pretty sure they had a thing, and it fully sunk in that while the video was shot consensually, I never actually agreed to have it uploaded. Far from taunting anyone, I was actually mortified as the group members started to tally up my body count and straight up surveying who else had sex with me while tallying those who they knew may have been with me.

My DMs ignited, among them, the slighted aspiring boyfriend. He was actually extremely nice and only asked me to tell him what happened because he felt lied to. By the time Katie came on, there was a furious backlash against the incident. I was an insatiable horndog, she was a liar who posted the equivalent of revenge porn. Katie, mercifully, took it down the next day after telling me she didn’t expect there would be anything wrong with posting it in the first place.

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 my type and turned me on, not drama and status that would last all for the next few weeks. Despite my exhibitionistic tendencies, who I had sex with was only for me, not for public review and approval.

Having my body count being publicly tabulated and discussed was a bridge too far. After letting things cool down but being too hesitant to engage and meet anyone else, I made the decision to pull the plug on my account, not seeing how I could get back into the groove. To this day, one of my friends still teases me about the video, but she’s allowed. On my part, the incident and how it stirred up deep-seated drama and resentment were a shocking testament to how quickly groups of people can spin out control if you’re dealing with their basest urges.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vffjgf/mf_how_i_accidentally_became_an_amateur_porn_star