Clash of Wills

by Candy



Part 10 of my life in So. California

© 2009


I enjoyed my first year in high school more than I thought I would.  I guess I can get pretty nervous about things in general even though I should realize that school has always come rather easily to me. 


The first few months of the ninth grade weren’t an exception.  My dad took me to a couple of RUHS football games during the fall, but we lost both of them badly so it wasn’t much fun.  Dad wanted me to “immerse in the high school experience” though I didn’t see what watching a so-so football team had to do with it.  I preferred softball and volleyball, sports I liked playing, not football.  Maybe things will be different in a couple of years when I’m in the same classes with hunky football players!


One night before bed, all I could think about was sex.  I hadn’t been with anybody in more than two months, since I made the video in the desert near Barstow.  When I went to Huntington Beach with Gerry at the end of August, to his disappointment we didn’t have sex.  I had some residual soreness from doing it with Mr. Ibanez and others in making the movie, besides I’d been thinking too much about Alan and maybe Jimmy too.  I really didn’t feel like doing it with anyone else, even a nice guy like Gerry.  He sure was disappointed, but at least he didn’t show he was angry with me. 


I don’t know how normal it is for girls my age, but I don’t masturbate often.  That night lying in bed I was so horny, I had to.  I had an image, a flash of memory, of Alan on top of me and making love to me.  While that reminiscence played in my imagination, I slid off my pajama pants and my panties and began playing with my clitoris.  My finger worked urgently, as urgent as Alan’s cock in my daydream, and in less than a minute I was cumming.  I just about squirted as I squealed aloud (as I usually do when I have great orgasms!)


This climax was probably louder than most, since while still coming down from my orgasm’s effect my mom knocked on the bedroom door, asking, “Are you okay in there?”


I pulled the covers over me so she wouldn’t see I was naked below the waist and told her I was okay and she could come in.  She sat on the edge of my bed and told me straight out that she heard me and knew what I’d been doing.


“It’s normal for a girl your age to have sexual thoughts and experiment with masturbation.  You know we’ve had these talks before, about sex and all.”  She smiled, and added, “Don’t look so scared.  You shouldn’t be ashamed is what I’m saying, sweetheart.  Masturbation isn’t bad as long as it doesn’t become some kind of obsession, I think.”  Her smile grew wider.  “Sounds like you had a good one.”  My mom can be so cool!


“Do you…like, do it too?”


“Masturbate, you mean?” she said, her smile a bit more sheepish now.  “I do sometimes.”


“Why?  You have Dad—”


“Yes, of course…oh well, I don’t like going there, until you’re older and understand more, but your father and I don’t always want sex at the same time, you know what I mean?  So…I sometimes do what you just did when, ah, those times come.”  She smiled again.  “I’m going to ask even if you don’t want to answer, but what were you thinking about just now while you were, um—?”


“I…er…was thinking about a boy I met at school.”  What else could I say?  “He’s kinda cute.”


“You haven’t, you know, touched or anything, have you?  I made sure you’re on birth control, but I hope you can confide in me if you’re thinking about having sex.  Will you, hon?”


“You know I will, Mom,” I said, and she gave me a big hug and a goodnight kiss on the cheek.  I didn’t like lying to her but what was I to do?  I knew I’d tell mom and dad everything someday—just not now.


Before I fell asleep I heard the telltale sound of a bumping headboard and then my mother’s urgent cry she was cumming.  Maybe she’d been aroused by talking to me about masturbation!  Whenever I heard them making love it made me so happy.  It didn’t creep me out at all.  Now that I knew how great sex was, I loved to hear my parents still doing it.  My mom’s loud wailing every so often confirmed where I got my tendency toward loud, squealing orgasms.  Must be a gene for that, I thought!


I’d been busier this year with school than last year, so I wasn’t spending as much time online as I had in the past.  However, I’ve been e-mailing and/or chatting regularly with three men: Larry from Australia, Brian from England, and John from Oregon.  Brian and I have had particular fun putting captions on sexy photos from the web, each of us trying to ‘outdo’ the other on humor and raciness as we send them back and forth.  It’s been lots of fun, and I knew he was a good man and not a pervert.  I still get lots of propositions from ‘fans’ of my stories.  Most I knew were perverts but I was sure some were like Gerry and would be gentlemen with me and be fun to have sex with.  Gerry kept calling me but I told him I’m still trying to be a ‘normal’ teenager and wouldn’t be seeing older men for now.


The high school life was working out okay when I got the phone call from Mr. Ibanez.  “How’s my favorite actress in the whole world?”


He wanted something, and I figured I knew what it was.  “I…I’m okay I guess.”


He asked me how school was going and I told him about it.  I bet he still didn’t realize I was writing all about the movies and everything and putting it on the web.  I wondered how he would react if he did.  “Why I’m calling is that Suzie and I are coming by your way and we’d both love to see you.  Take you out to dinner, maybe to that French place close to your house you told me your father likes.”


“You mean Aimee’s?”


 “If that’s the place, then, yes. What do you say, my young Cleopatra?”


I chuckled in spite of myself at the reference to my big role in his video two summers ago.  I agreed.  It would be neat to see Suzie again anyway, even on top of whatever Ed Ibanez had as his hidden agenda.  He always had a hidden agenda with me.  I lied to my parents (sadly, as usual) about where I was going, and walked the few blocks to PCH where Mr. Ibanez picked me up in his big black Mercedes SUV.  I hugged Suzie, but she seemed to not be as happy to see me as I was to see her.  Ed commented at how pretty I looked and lamented that I’d had my long hair cut.  No mention of videos so far. 


Aimee’s is an unusual place.  It’s in a small strip mall, and inside appeared cramped with tables when you first walked in.  The food however was always fantastic even if I couldn’t pronounce the names of all the French dishes.  I had the Bouillabaisse (I had to look that up after the first time my parents took me there), which was a great seafood stew (I love seafood!)  Mr. Ibanez had Osso Bucco which is what my father liked.  Suzie only had a salad.  We couldn’t talk much about what he wanted to see me for in the crowded restaurant, so we ate quietly.  After dinner he invited me to their hotel room at the Crowne Plaza.  I guess I had to say yes; so much for being a ‘regular’ teenager; sex with an older man again, I thought.


We drove by the house on S. Catalina that he rented last year to make movies.  I played Cleopatra for a week in that house.  I had great sex with Alan and Big Rod and Derek and Michael in that house.  I earned lots of college money in that house.  Of course he drove by there to stir my memory.  I knew that was his reason.  And maybe it worked.


As we were going to their room, I asked Mr. Ibanez, “Have you seen Alan at all? I really like him a lot.”


He looked at me like he was looking through me.  “You know, I think he feels the same about you that maybe you do about him.  Hmm, I know he’s making a movie for another outfit in this area; I’ll let him know you were asking about him.  Is that okay?”


Oh God, YES!   I told him it was okay, hoping my eagerness wasn’t that obvious.


Their room was really nice with a king bed we relaxed on as soon as we got there.  Suzie was so cold toward me, but she was practically begging her father to get undressed as soon as we got in the room.  He winked at me and took off his clothes.  Down to his underwear, he got off the bed and picked up the phone, ordering a bottle of champagne from room service.


“You can wait a little while longer, sweetheart,” he said to Suzie though he looked at me after he said it. 


He got a robe from the little closet and waited for the room service guy.  He said to us, “Why don’t you both get undressed too and get under the covers.  Hide so whoever comes up here won’t see you, okay?”


We did like he said and waited for the champagne.  I figured I’d need some champagne since I wasn’t really in the mood.  After the delivery guy left, Ed poured each of us a glass and we drank it.  Maybe you could say I guzzled it down—liquid mood.  I felt a little funny being naked next to Suzie.  I mean, we had been naked before and even made love for her father’s video once, but I realized we weren’t skinny, flat-chested ‘tweens anymore.  Now fifteen like me, Suzie’s boobs were getting to be big and she was keen to flaunt them at me, since mine were still small.  I didn’t believe I’d ever have big boobs.  My mom was petite and so was I.  At least my areolas were pointy and puffy, and men seemed to like those.


Ed tossed the robe aside and climbed between us.  His big snake of a cock made me think of those silly “Subway” commercials: “five dollar, foot long”—and I would have laughed if I wasn’t mesmerized again by the sight of his twelve-incher growing erect.  He kissed Suzie first and then he kissed me, his tongue slowly teasing around the inside of my mouth.  While we kissed I heard Suzie make a sound and knew she was starting to suck him.


He whispered in my ear just loud enough for only me to hear him, “Candy, I wish it was just me and you here, I’d fuck you all day.”


I looked at him but didn’t respond.  If Suzie had heard him she would have exploded in jealous rage. Why was I here?  I didn’t need this.  I felt really stupid.  He groaned so I looked down to see Suzie taking a good portion of him down her throat.  I could never have taken half of what she had in her mouth without gagging.  She raised her eyes to him and managed a smile.  I wasn’t into this; I laid there and watched.  After Suzie sucked him for a while and he got pretty hard, both of us played with it, rubbing our hands up and down the saliva-slick shaft.  Even if I didn’t care very much for him then, his cock was a different story; it really was neat rubbing his long hard cock as it stood magnificently tall.


I knew he wanted to fuck me but I didn’t want that at all, so while Suzie rubbed him I took him in my mouth and rubbed him too.  He filled my mouth with so much cum I nearly choked.  I was able to swallow most of it, mainly because I knew he liked that.


After, he kept trying to sweet-talk me into making more movies.  I explained (again!) how much I wanted to be a normal teen and do normal things, and do well in school.  He was trying to get it up again, still wanting to fuck me, but I begged him to take me home.  I made sure I thanked him a lot for dinner and kind of faked my thankfulness for our after-dinner play while adamant it was time for me to go home.  They dropped me off a block from my house; Suzie sullen and quiet, Ed still ‘selling’ me on the idea of another movie.  This was a clash of wills that I had to win; I enjoyed what I’d done and certainly loved all the money I’d made, but I could not repress my ambitions for his.


As the holidays approached I completely forgot about my asking Mr. Ibanez to say hello to Alan for me.  I was in my bedroom when I got the call.


“Is this my sweet Candy?” He asked when I answered my cell.


My heart skipped a beat when I heard his voice.  “Hi, Alan!  I’m so glad you called!”  I was sure he could hear the excitement in my voice.


“Are you alone?  Can you talk now?”


I assured him I could talk in privacy, at least for a short while.  He told me about his latest movie jobs and I told him all about school and (boring!) things I was doing.  I didn’t go into any detail about seeing Mr. Ibanez though he did know I’d seen him.  Hearing his voice made me so happy, confirming to myself how I’d fallen in love with him.  Certainly that was a dumb thing for me to do, since he was twice my age and a porn actor no less.  I guess I couldn’t help it.


I knew he was afraid to ask, much the same as Jimmy had been afraid to see me. 


I asked first.  “Can I see you?”


He didn’t even hesitate.  “I want to see you.  I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, but yes, I do.”


I heard it.  There was a catch in his voice, a quaver that told me so much.  A week and a half before Christmas I had a date, though one I couldn’t dare brag about to any of my friends.


I told more lies to my mom and dad, and called Alan to tell him where to pick me up.  When he drove up to the curb and I saw him smiling at me from the driver’s seat of a fancy sports car, I almost couldn’t breathe.  I guess that was a sign of how I felt about him, right?  We went directly to his hotel.  It wasn’t the Crowne Plaza, but it was nice nonetheless.  If I wasn’t so nervously excited about being with him I would have laughed at how he was acting with me.  He was just like the boys in my school when they were around the girls.  I mean, why worry?  I just wanted him to rip my clothes off and make love to me.  What was there for him to be nervous about?  Nevertheless, his hyper nervousness continued after we entered his hotel room.  Finally, I told him to stop the small talk and make love to me.


Oh my, did he!


It’s funny that with all the actors I’ve made porn with it’s always been about positions—the performance as well as the sex (I learned fast!)  However, with Alan I hardly gave a thought to how we were doing it.  Instead it was mouth on mouth, mouth on genitals, and genitals on (and of course in) genitals.  I may not be big, but at one point I was on top and bucking so hard I thought the bed would break.  I squealed and I felt my cum squirt from me, coating his cock and balls.  We were so damn wet with sweat and my juices by the time he groaned and came deep inside me our bodies were making squishing noises as they rubbed together.


Unlike the tension in the air when I’d been with Ed and Suzie, Alan and I were like old friends after we made it.  We talked for a while as he explained about the movies he was making.  Once more I knew what he meant to me by the way I grew jealous of the actresses he got to work with.  There really was no way I was going to make a career of porn; however moments like these could sway my thinking.


We showered and then he took me to a restaurant all the way in Long Beach.  I saw people looking at us as we ate.  Here was this hunk who certainly wasn’t old enough to be my father, and I couldn’t help showing my affection for him.  No, I didn’t slobber all over him but I did hold his hand a lot and I knew I was staring at him in what to others must have looked like wonderstruck adoration.


When we got back to his hotel we went straight to bed.  He was on top, holding himself up with his strong arms as he slid in and out of me.  I held on to him with both my arms and my legs.  Alan was the best!  He knew just how to move his cock—not simply in and out, but sort of around and around too and rubbing my clit perfectly with its shaft.  He called it “riding high.”


“Alan, Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh, Alannnnnnnn!  I’m cumming…I’m cummmmmminggggg!” I screamed even louder than I usually do when I orgasm.  He was thrusting faster as I came so I knew he was getting ready to cum too.  “Onnnnnnn meeeeeee,” I groaned.


He pulled out and sprayed several good cumshots all over my belly and pubis.  I love to play with a man’s cum; always so hot and like a special gift.  As I rubbed it on my belly and then on my tits, I felt another small wavelet of orgasm sweep through me, and I moaned, “More.”


He got between my thighs and his tongue did me in, slaying me like a sword.  I kept cumming and cumming until I thought my insides would explode.  I was squealing so loudly I wondered about other guests at the hotel hearing me.  Alan’s face was all wet so I knew my pussy ‘exploded’ when I came.


“Candy-girl, you’re the hottest there is,” he said, after I kissed him and licked my juice from his lips and chin.


With a hand on his cheek, I said, “You make me feel so special all the time.”  I knew I had to say it but didn’t know how he’d respond—but I had to anyway.  “I think…I love you.”


He told me everything; how much he loved me and how much he wished I wasn’t a fifteen-year-old so we could be together all the time.  I started to cry and he mistook my tears for hurt.  I assured him I wasn’t hurt by what he said but instead was filled with joy at hearing him really admit it for the first time.  While bringing me home, we talked about the near impossibility of what we had becoming a real relationship.  I knew he wasn’t about to leave the porn business; without college what would he do?  He knew my ambitions for college and beyond.  Besides, how could he escape the legal ramifications of what we’d done?  We would make do with these infrequent hook-ups and see where things went.  Alan would be the only reason I would entertain making another video movie.


We both cried a little as we kissed goodbye.  He dropped me off around the corner from my house and I waved to him as he drove away.  I managed to pull myself together before going into the house.  For weeks I dreamt of Alan.  We would be in different scenarios in my dreams but in every one we would be together somehow.  The silly dreams of a silly girl, I thought.


Christmas was as Christmases usually are: happy times that always cement the bond I have with my parents.  I often wondered if things would be different if I weren’t an only child.  I know I’ve said this countless times, but I really hate lying to them about my sexual activities.  My mom was a little suspicious of how much I paid for her necklace present, but I think I convinced her it wasn’t as expensive as she thought it had been.


A couple of weeks into the new year my dad took me to “Old” Tony’s.  Tony’s on the Pier is an unpretentious restaurant practically hanging over the water on the Redondo Pier and specialized in (what else) seafood.  My dad said he wanted to take me out as a “father-daughter thing” and regardless of whether I knew what he really meant by that I loved the gesture.  I didn’t spend nearly as much time with my father as I used to when I was younger and we lived in Massachusetts.  I’ll always cherish the times we went skiing or boating or camping, and how much I loved him calling me “his Candy” all the time.  Now, I think he works too hard and too long.   We pigged out on a whole bunch of stuff from the appetizer menu, like shrimp, calamari and clams casino.  I even got to have a non-alcoholic Mai Tai in a Tony’s glass that I got to take home!  (Of course, my dad never knew I’d had beer and champagne before.)


After we ate, laughed and I talked about school, he got serious and told me about his job.  “I normally wouldn’t burden you with things like this, but you’re not a little girl anymore, though sometimes I’m blind to that fact, as most fathers probably are.”  He chuckled, telling me he was proud of me and how grown-up I was.  “Your mom’s always calling you the ‘little woman’ when we talk, and I know she means it with so much love and respect.  I think you need to know that.”


I smiled (and blushed at his comment) as I said, “Okay Dad, what were you going to tell me about your work?”


He told me how the company wasn’t doing well because of the economy and that he, like everyone else, was worried about his job.  “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to worry, but it’s not fair for you to be in the dark either.  I know how much you love it here and how well you’ve acclimated yourself to the scene, but if something happens you know we may have to move again.”  He must have seen the worry on my face, for he added, “Sorry, sweetheart.”


“Dad, you know that no matter what happens we’ll be okay.”


He knew.  We hugged before leaving the restaurant and heading home.


The following weeks at school were tremendous.  Everything I did was “A” work and I’d begun to have hope of maybe being the top student in my class.  A boy in one of my classes asked me to go to a Valentine’s Day dance and I said yes.  Wow, a real date, and not with someone twice my age!


My mom and dad weren’t happy the night of the dance when I wore a really short denim skirt.  I got lectures about sex and being good but they let me go anyway.  I’d checked myself out in the mirror and figured I looked pretty hot even with my skinny legs and too-big nose.  I thought back to all the sexy outfits I’d worn at the house on S. Catalina while making the Cleopatra video and how all the men had looked at me—with half lust and half fear (because of my age).


They call these things ‘dances’ but hardly anyone does.  Kids just hang around and talk to their friends above the music, as I was learning.  Maybe it’s always been like that; I’ll have to ask my mother.


Of course I hung out with my friends but I did spend some time with the boy who invited me.  We even danced a slow one, during which I worked hard not to laugh because I could feel his erection rub against me.  I kept thinking: does he even know what sex is, or what to do?  I figured he would definitely go home after and jerk off.


When it was time to go home I was to call my mom for a ride.  My date and I left and walked around the corner from school, and we kissed.  It started out clumsily until I decided to spice up his life by aggressively using my tongue.  He went crazy and was having trouble breathing.  His cock was real hard in his pants and he was like pushing it into me.  I almost giggled.  Something inside me made me want to give him a blow job and send him home happy, but I didn’t think it was a good idea because he wasn’t really my boyfriend and he would probably tell all his friends and then it would be all over school what I’d done.  I called my mom and left him panting.  I was sure his shorts were wet from pre-cum, and as soon as he got home he’d be spraying in no time.  I wondered how much cum a fifteen year old boy had.  Maybe a lot.  I also wondered how many stories he would tell around school on Monday.  I tingled; would he say I was hot?  Would he lie to his friends and say I did something?  We’d see.


Nothing interesting happened for a while until one Friday I got up the nerve to call Jimmy.  We did cell phone small talk for a few minutes before I asked him what he was doing Saturday.  “We could like go to the place you used to take me and play pool and stuff.  Maybe I can finally beat you,” I said.


“Fat chance of that,” he said with a laugh, then he went silent and I started to think he had a girlfriend and would say no.  How stupid of me I thought, to imagine he didn’t see other girls and was sitting around waiting for me to call.  Finally, he sighed and said, “Yeah, maybe we could do that.  Okay with your folks?”


“I’ll be okay. Where’re you picking me up?”


He set a time and place, a couple of blocks from my house, and said, “You know what truck to look out for.”


Of course I did; after all, I bought it for him.


He was early picking me up but I was there already waiting for him.  The yellow Xterra was dusty and dingy, as most cars get in the SoCal smog, but otherwise looked like he was taking good care of it.  We drove the few miles to his favorite hangout, a bar that had a couple of pool tables.  I always enjoyed being there with him because it seemed everyone knew him, like he was a celebrity or something.  Another reason was that they let Jimmy buy me beer even though they clearly knew I was underage.


We played pool, drank beer and talked, mostly about him.  “You have a girlfriend?” I asked.


He looked at me and smiled, though to me it could’ve just as easily been a grimace.  “Nobody steady.  You want to be my girlfriend? Again?”


“C’mon Jimmy, you know it was mostly you who didn’t want to see me.  Look, I know our age difference makes things difficult but you should know by now I would never get you into trouble.”


“Well, some things aren’t always under your control, you know.”


I took a shot and missed badly.  I took a long swig from my beer and did better with that.  I said, “I guess, but we’re both here, aren’t we?”


“Maybe you’re just horny and that guy isn’t making any movies now so you call me for old time’s sake.  It’s not like you love me or whatever.”


You know you’re special to me, Jimmy.”  I moved beside him and whispered, “You are the man who I gave my virginity to, after all.”


He smiled down at me and then kissed me.  He was right though, I was horny and if nobody was around I would have urged him onto the pool table and fucked him right there.  After another beer and quitting my terrible (as usual) game of pool, I urged him to his place instead and that’s where I fucked him.


We were barely through the door to his Torrance apartment when our clothes went flying.  I was already wet enough so he pushed me onto his bed and climbed on top.  I lifted and spread my legs wide as he entered me.  While he lost control and slammed his cock into me, thrust after rapid thrust, I wrapped my legs around him and did a little of my own thrusting, my hips writhing as uncontrollably as his.  By now you must know that I’m a fast cummer, and this time was no exception.


“Jimmy…ehhh…Jimmy…ehhh…I’m…ooooooooooo, I’mmmmm cummmmmmingggg!” I squealed.


He came right behind me, which is a figure of speech; though after a while we did it again and this next time he did cum behind me.


After I brushed my teeth a few times to rid my mouth of the smell of beer, he took me home to Redondo Beach.  He promised that we’d have more dates like tonight.  I was counting on it.  The way my mom looked at me when I got home made me wonder if she figured I’d been bad, but she never said anything.


As spring progressed and we headed toward summer my mind was a thick stew of crazy questions.  Could I keep straight A’s?  What would I say to Mr. Ibanez when he called about another movie?  Would I see Alan again?  What about Jimmy?  What would happen to my dad’s job?  Even buying a new bikini in anticipation of another great southern California beach summer (aqua-blue and green stripes this year—have to retire the cotton-candy pink one now that I’m a bit bigger) can’t deflect my mind away from all the worries.


Jimmy and I had a few more of our dates, but no amount of sex could shake him of his fear of being with me, and I guess I’ve come to terms with that.  The end of the school year seemed to drag and maybe along with concentrating on finishing some of my fiction stories for ASSTR, cost me a straight-A average.  When I begged off seeing Jimmy one weekend, he grew cold and I realized another clash of wills probably lost him for good.  Between that and the fact good beach weather seemed to come late this year, I was pretty downcast.


Besides a steady e-mail ‘relationship’ with Brian in England and chatting with different men on Yahoo Messenger I wasn’t doing much else by the end of school in June.  I managed to finish the sequel to “My Uncle Luke” and got it up on the ASSTR site.  A part time job my father had lined up for me at his office for a few hours during the summer crapped out, perhaps because of the economy.  My dad must have felt bad too because he worked his tail off trying to get me a job somewhere else, managing to convince a local shop owner he knew to hire me for a few hours each week, helping out with cleaning and such.  I surely didn’t need money but I couldn’t tell my parents that, could I?


As I knew he would, eventually Ed Ibanez called.  He knew one of my demands would be Alan, and he was quick to tell me Alan would be there.  He probably knew another demand would be Cassie and that’s how he sold me—Cassie would be in it and she could help me “get away” to spend a week at the rented house.  The video would be shot at a house “above Hollywood” was all he’d say, telling me it was “very secluded.”  He explained the plot, but it seemed pretty lame to me: something about little sisters and jealousy.  From what I’ve seen, porn today didn’t need a plot, if it ever did.  I was thankful that the movies I’d made over the past two summers each had some semblance of a story, even if they weren’t for widespread release.


“I’ll have Cass call you,” was how he finished the call. 


Anticipating hearing from Cassie was tempered by unhappiness that she’d never called me to let me know how she was doing.  After all, I was the one who got her into the business last summer.


I sort of breezed through my finals, and just like that I was beginning my summer vacation.  Last year I fretted over starting high school (like every kid I guess) and now I wondered what all the worry was about.  I spent a few days at the beach in my new bikini with friends.  The Redondo Beach weather wasn’t always amenable to sunbathing but that didn’t always stop us girls, after all we could always hang out on the pier if the weather was shitty.  My tan came along slowly.


I sort of breezed through summer too.  I worked some at the job my father got for me.  It wasn’t that hard and it was only a few hours a week.  I still had time for hanging with friends, and the beach.


The call from Cassie didn’t come until the first week in August.  She sounded upbeat.  I didn’t chastise her for her failure to keep in touch, and as usual she acted like we had been in touch all along.  She filled me in on her role and together we planned my “escape” story.  I won’t bore you with the details but my story was much like last year’s—I was going “camping” with Cassie and her friends, and my parents bought it all.  My father maybe had a hard-on when he talked with Cassie the day she picked me up; he was so blown away by her looks and it showed.  My dad had always been smitten by Cassie.  She had a way about her that could wrap a man around her little finger and make him do anything.  Looking at her chest, as my dad surely was, I wondered if she’d had a boob job.  They looked bigger.


While we drove away, I imagined my parents having a marathon fuck session that night, not worrying about how much noise they made since their “innocent” daughter wouldn’t be home, hee-hee.


“Hey squirt, you looking forward to this?” she asked me as she drove. 


No more old Corolla; we were in her shiny new Acura that’d been flashily customized to the point of looking like something either a drug dealer or a pimp would drive, with big oversized wheels and enough chrome to blind someone.  I offered no comment to her about that.  Maybe an up-and-coming porn star rated an ostensible car like this.


I said, “I’m not sure.  I’m glad to see you, that’s for sure.  How’re you doing?”


She told me all about her movies and who was distributing them.  She told me some stories about some of the stars she’d had scenes with.  I didn’t recognize all the names but some I’d heard of from Mr. Ibanez, Jake and Alan.


How I’d answered her must have finally sunk in, for she then said, “What do you mean you’re not sure?”


“Maybe I’m not in the right mood this time.”


“You’re horny, love sex, and your hot stud Alan will be there.  What other mood is the right one?”  She laughed, and I laughed with her.


I didn’t want to talk more about my misgivings, so I asked, “Where are we going exactly, like I assume you know where the house is since you’re driving?”


She glanced my way for a second, grinning.  “You think I’d volunteer to get you there, girl, without directions?  Don’t worry, I’ve been there before.”


And she seemed to know.  After she picked me up she drove out to Hawthorne Boulevard and turned north, where from a cross street she got onto a ramp to the 405.  This wasn’t the way my dad would go but maybe Cassie knew better.  The 405 is like always a crowded mess, though it wasn’t too bad at that time.  She drove north, through downtown L.A. and eventually toward where I knew Hollywood and Santa Monica to be.  She exited onto the 101 but soon got off that highway, and on surface streets I’d never been on began to climb.


After a few miles on winding, hilly roads, she glanced at me and unsolicited, said, “I think were above Benedict Canyon…snob heaven, still L.A. I think…not Malibu, and not Hollywood or Beverly Hills, that’s for sure.”  The way she said Hollywood made it sound like a dirty word.


I was lost.  Like every kid does at least once on a family drive, I asked, “Are we almost there?”


That drew a hearty laugh from Cassie.  “A little further, squirt.”  I was petite after all, especially compared to her, but I didn’t mind Cassie calling me a squirt.  She started that after we first met, covering both meanings—being small, and having very wet orgasms, as she delightfully discovered.


The houses grew less dense as we drove, until she stopped before an isolated wooden gate.  I couldn’t see a house but one certainly had to be there beyond the gate.  Cassie pushed a button on a little intercom box she’d pulled up next to, and said who she was.  After an unintelligible squawk the gate swung open.  I thought an automatic gate like that was cool; I wondered what the rest of the property would be like.  She drove down this long and winding driveway until suddenly the house appeared as if out of nowhere.  It was a weird (at least to my eye) modern, box-like thing that looked like three different architects had designed it and then fought over control.  It looked like nobody won the fight.  It looked like it didn’t belong where it was.


A man came out to meet us as we parked next to other cars.  Nobody overtly said so, but I had expected Jake to be in charge.  This man was a stranger.  “Cassie!” he called out.  She ran to him and gave him a big hug and a small kiss.


She waved me closer.  “Dana, this is Candy, the girl Raul is always talking about, you know, and Alan and Big Rod talk about all the time.”


I went to shake hands with him, but Dana instead put a hand on each of my arms and held me like that, at arms length, as if he was studying me.  I awkwardly said “Hi” while he said nothing.


Finally, he said, “Yep, you’re cute enough.  Not much meat on those bones though.  Shit, I hope the bosses know what they’re doing.”


What did that mean?


Cassie said, “Be good, Dana.  She’s a sweetheart.  Besides, she’s the one who got me into this gig, and you now how much you love me.”  She blew him a dramatic, exaggerated kiss, and Dana rolled his eyes in response.  As Cassie led me through the house on her version of the grand tour, she introduced me to everyone as we ran into them.  “By the way, Dana is the boss here…the director on this shoot,” she said.


“No Jake?” I asked.


“Naw, I think he’s in the Valley making a big budget flick…Vivid, maybe…”


“What about Ed, you know, Raul?  He’s not running this one?”


“His money’s in it I know.  He’ll be here later in the week I’m sure.”


So far the people I’ve met here were strangers.  A few of the names were familiar as well as a couple of faces, so I know I’ve seen them in porn videos somewhere.  The ones not in the house were out by the pool in various states of undress.  All the men had shorts on.  Some of the women had shorts on and some wore bikini bottoms; all were topless.  Santiago was there and so was Libby (her real name—I couldn’t remember her working name).  I’d worked with both of them last summer.  Santiago had been hooked on Cassie then and it didn’t take long for them to demonstrate there still was something going on between them.  As they kissed, a few of the pool-side folks cheered them on.  I stood there awkwardly.  I felt alone.  Had my mood been a premonition?


After they stopped kissing, Santiago came over and he gave me a hug.  “Hi Candy. Glad to see you here.  Like, you brighten up the place better than all these silicone honeys.”


Cassie elbowed him and said, “Hey!”  Like I figured, she must have had a boob job after all.


“Where’s Alan?”


“He’ll be here tomorrow…maybe the day after…he’s coming, Candy, I guarantee it,” Santiago said with a big smile.


“Let’s go see where we’re sleeping and put our stuff away, okay?” Cassie said as she pulled me by the hand back into the house.


Someone had put our bags on a queen-sized bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms.  The room looked a little run-down but clean enough.  I figured that unlike last summer’s ‘free-for-all’ sleeping arrangements, someone had decided that Cassie and I would sleep together.  Was it her idea?  We stripped out of our clothes and put bikini bottoms on.  Hers was a bright yellow thong that hardly counted as clothing.


Cassie wiggled her breasts.  “How do you like them?”


“I don’t think you needed any enhancement, but they do look great.”


She stepped closer. “Go ahead.  Feel them.”


I did.  Wow, were they firm!  She smiled and cooed a little as I touched and squeezed them.  I chuckled and said, “Yeah, they’re nice to touch.  I bet Santiago likes ‘em better now…he seems to like the big ones.”


“Dana likes them too,” she said cryptically.  Was she fucking the director on the side?  “You can play with them again tonight, if you want to,” she muttered, pointing to the bed.  “You know, yours are growing.”  She began playing with mine as I had with hers.  She was as horny as ever.


“Let’s go back to the pool, okay?” I said.  “I want to get to know the guys and find out who I’m gonna be with.”


We went back outside and mingled.  I met Cherry by the pool.  She had bright red hair, big boobs with very large areolas, and freckles everywhere.  The first thing she asked was how old I was.  I thought she’d freak when I told her but instead she nonchalantly said something about faking I.D.s and not worrying.  In fact I was worrying; it seemed Mr. Ibanez hadn’t told anybody about me.


I was introduced to Taylor, who was going to play my big sister.  Knowing the stupid way some of these porn people think, I pictured they’d cast Cherry in that role, but Taylor had long dark hair, my dark coloring, and seemingly unenhanced breasts so she could at least pass for my sister.  Not that her tits were ordinary; they were perky yet full C-cups and her nipples were prominent and taut.  She caught me looking.


“Oooo, you like girls!” she giggled.  “Maybe I can get Dana to add a scene where the sisters hook up.  Would you like that?”  She actually winked at me. “I like girls too,” she said while lightly brushing a hand across one of my breasts.  “Nice puffies…and sensitive too…oooooo!”  She easily caught my reaction to her touch.


I had to break the mood—she had hit a nerve, and I’d become wet.  “Who’s gonna play your boyfriend, the one I’m supposed to be jealous over?”


She dragged me into the house and toward a blond dude who was watching TV.  “Candy, this is Marc.”


He stood up and approached like he was going to shake hands, but then he looked at me and did a double-take.  Maybe it was my age or simply my looks, but I must have been his ‘type’ since he let out a wolf-whistle, then said, “So you’re gonna be the little sis.  I’m definitely gonna be ready for doing you…Candy, huh?”


“That’s what everyone calls me.”


“Are you good enough to eat?”


“You’ll find out, right?” I said, hoping there was some edginess in my voice.


As we walked away, Taylor asked what I thought of Marc.  While answering noncommittally, I was thinking cute and a hot body but a little full of himself while wondering how his cock compared to all the other hung actors.  I guess that’s what I would find out.  I asked if there would be any filming the rest of the day. 


Taylor didn’t think so.  “I know your friend is doing the big gang-bang scene first thing in the morning, and later you and me will do some non-sex set-up scenes.”  She hesitated, and then asked, “Did they tell you about the other movies?”


“No. What other movies?”


She went on to explain that there actually would be three videos shot here; the one where her and I would be sisters and two others that “don’t need plots,” as she put it.  Did porn ever really need plots?  I was learning to be very grateful that what I had done so far at least had plausible stories to them, and that I’d felt like I had really acted, not just gotten laid.


We went back to the pool and hung out.  Some of the men drifted over and talked to me.  Curiosity, mostly.  As always, I liked the way they looked at me.  I liked looking at them, after all.  One guy wanted to know who I was sleeping with.  He was very straight-forward on what he wanted.  I told him maybe some other night.  I watched the strange dynamic surrounding Cassie.  Santiago looked to me as if he felt he’d ‘claimed’ her as his own, yet she seemed to be teasing the director, Dana, and openly rubbed another guy inside his shorts as if it were nothing at all.  That was my Cassie.


We had a big communal dinner of delivered Chinese take-out.  I had a couple of beers and was feeling pretty good.  Later I had two more and ended up drunk.  I didn’t fall down or puke or anything, just got giggly and tipsy. 


The guy that propositioned me earlier (his name was Horst—I laughed out loud when he told me—“Are you really a horse” I asked before giggling up a storm) made another more earnest attempt at poolside, (“Built just like one” he answered, then dropped his shorts to show me.)  He was big, of course, and with the utmost in drunken inquisitiveness I began to stroke and play with him.  He got hard and I giggled.  He picked me up and I giggled.  He carried me over to a big lounge chair and I giggled.  He pulled off my bikini bottoms and I giggled.  I heard somebody (Dana?) yell for cameras and I giggled.  Horst ran his fingertips between my labia and I giggled.  I even giggled when he spread my legs and entered me (I must have been wet enough.)  He fucked away and I kept giggling, though my giggles soon turned to some other noise as my drunken mind began to know what my vagina already did: I was cumming.


The remainder of the evening was a blur.  I remember Cassie asking me if I was okay.  I remember someone else congratulating me for being the first on video.  I remember asking where Alan was.  I didn’t remember much else until I realized I was naked in bed and Cassie was hugging me to her.


“You okay, squirt?” she asked me.  I wondered how many times she’d said those words.


I couldn’t help it, I giggled.  “Yeah, I’m great…not so drunk now.  Did he wear a condom?”


It was her turn to giggle.  “Looks like I don’t have to ask you if you remember what happened out there.  Yes, he wore a condom.” 


All I could do was smile, feeling mellow either from the beer or sex, or both.  Thankfully I wasn’t sick.  Cassie gave me an animated recounting of my encounter with Horst, down to the smallest detail.


“You’ll have to ask Dana to look at the footage in the morning. That skinny little ass of yours was pumping so hard darling Horst could barely stay in the saddle.”  She chuckled, and then added, “And that squeal of yours when you climaxed!  Damn well scared half the crew!  Marc’s hard-on even slipped above his waistband…Jesus!”


I didn’t know who made the first move, but after a while I was kissing and kneading Cassie’s new, firm breasts and she was fingering my pussy with a vengeance.  She went down on me first and I came in an instant.  Then it was my turn, and I was rewarded with several yelps and a very juicy tongue-dollop.  We fell asleep satisfied.  I didn’t dream.


Cassie’s gang-bang was the after breakfast entertainment.  One big master bedroom had been set up for filming, with all the necessary lights and things.  Dana was barking orders not much differently than Jake would have.  Several of the men were naked and were absently rubbing themselves, getting ready.  Cassie was getting “powdered down” as she called it, so as to minimize the sheen of sweat.  Two summers ago they’d done that to me for my young Cleopatra role.  I don’t know if most people understand how videoing works, but the sex isn’t like in real life.  The actors will do a little of something, like oral, then they’ll stop and get into the next position (or the man will have to be ‘worked on’ to get hard again) before the cameras are turned on.  What would end up being a ten to fifteen minute scene took three hours to video.  Cassie took it in every hole and between her tits by five guys and then took it some more, finally ending with a choreographed five-man-source facial.  It looked like way too much work for me.  But Cassie was like me in many ways; I’m sure she had at least three orgasms along the way—and it showed when she was done.


As she showered, I hung out by the pool.  Horst approached me.  He wasn’t exactly apologetic but he hoped I understood why he “took advantage” of me.  “You’re a cute little hottie and I had to be the first one here.  That’s just how I am.”  I told him I wasn’t angry with him. 


I was angrier with myself for getting drunk.  And now whatever spectacle I made of myself is digitized forever.  I tried to let Horst know subtly that I wanted him to leave me alone.  I didn’t have to worry, because I looked toward the patio door and there was Mr. Ibanez.  I ran over to him as he put his arms out to embrace me.  He was dressed almost all in white; some kind of breezy linen, looking sexy for a man his age with his dark hair and latin looks.


Before he could greet me, I said, “Why did you lie to me?”


“What do you mean, Candy?  Lie about what?”


“You didn’t tell me Jake wouldn’t be the director, and Alan isn’t here yet, and—”


“Ssssssh,” he said, hugging me. “I didn’t lie to you.  Alan will be here as soon as he finishes something else he’s doing.  I told you once this business has a lot of people in it all looking to make their mark.  This is Dana’s turn.  And besides, I’m not the main producer on this one.  Other people’s money is in it.  Now, give me a kiss.”


He leaned down and kissed me long on the mouth.  After, he asked me how Cassie was and I told him how I thought her scene came out.  He checked to make sure I understood what my role was and I explained how Taylor had filled me in.  “She’s a sharp girl. Stay close to her,” he said.


He went off to say hello to everyone.  I went back to the pool and sunbathed in the nude.  Nobody bothered me until Dana called for me.  It was my turn to do some acting, so ironically I got dressed to video some scenes for a porn movie.  I put on a tight tank top and a pair of short, cut-off jeans not much different than what I wore in the “drug war” movie last summer.  Dana and crew got everything set up in the living room while Taylor, Marc and I went over our meager lines.  The filming went great; only one screw-up (not me!) that required a retake.  The scene was where I was to show my jealousy by getting close to Marc before an angry Taylor came in and pulled Marc away.  After they left the room, I then acted like I was talking (out loud) to myself, saying how I was going to fuck my sister’s boyfriend no matter what.


I followed cast and crew into a bedroom where Taylor and Marc were going to screw.  Both of them were great in teasingly taking each other’s clothes off, just like a boyfriend and girlfriend would do it.  Dana commended them for that before instructing them about the sex, positions, and camera angles. 


Taylor looked to be a sensational cock sucker.  Marc looked to be a good pussy licker.  I’d find out about the latter on another day.  Before they filmed intercourse, Dana gave a few more instructions to Taylor while another gal was sucking and rubbing Marc’s dick to keep him hard before helping him with a condom. 


Dana yelled “Action” and off they went.  Dana would give instructions, like “Doggie” and “Reverse Cowgirl” and cameras would stop, Marc and Taylor would change positions accordingly and get right back to fucking, cameras rolling again.  By the time Dana called for the money shot, I was looking forward to doing it with Marc, and anticipating the size of his cumshot.  I knew people liked facials nowadays.  I didn’t.  I was going to petition Dana to let me have a body-shot instead.


Taylor wasn’t much of a screamer so I knew they’d dub in more noise while editing.  Marc was a great cummer, not Peter North but quite acceptable nonetheless.  When they were done and cleaning up, Marc gave me a wink.


I was in some more non-sex scenes to establish my character.  They went okay; Dana let me see some of the raw footage.  I begged to see what they recorded of me and Horst yesterday.  Dana laughed and brought me to another room that had been set up as a combination office and early editing station.  He went through some of the digital files and ran the one I was reluctantly asking for.


I began worried and ended up amazed.  I had been like a crazy person, jerking uncontrollably and screaming my lungs out as Horst fucked me hard.  Horst’s face betrayed his pleasure up until he stripped off the condom and sprayed a few good dollops of his goo over my still thrashing and convulsing tummy and pubis.


“You are a hot one, Candy,” Dana said as the video footage stopped.  “Are you like that when sober?”


I felt hot.  I must have been blushing when I admitted, “Yeah, most of the time I think.  At least that’s what Mr. Ibanez says.”


“Raul, or Ed, or whatever name he’s going by now sure has the eye for talent, among other assets of his, and he’s always talking about this young girl he discovered—you.”


“He talks about me?”


“All the time, doll.  Candy this, Candy that…all the time.  I thought he was bullshitting but so far I’m agreeing with him.  How about showing me he’s right?”


Dana outlined the scene he wanted me to do.  Two guys.  I said anything was okay except anal and asked who the two guys were.  He pointed them out.  Big guys—big units.  Why not?


He organized the thing out by the pool.  I was going to be swimming and the two guys would proposition me right out of the pool.  I wondered who originated the idea, since my two co-stars looked very ready to get it going with me.  Maybe they watched Horst do me and wanted some of what he got.  Well, I gave it to them.  I sucked them both then got on my hands and knees and they took me—one in my pussy and the other in my mouth.  After Dana gave an approving signal, they switched places.  Of course I still had a cock in my mouth and one deep in my vagina, though this time it felt better somehow and I began to orgasm.  While my mouth was open wide in squealing ecstasy, I got a tremendous cumshot down my throat.  I gagged and coughed, so Dana had to holler “Cut!”


It wasn’t until I regained my composure the second guy got to cum.  Another facial.  God, I hate facials!


The rest of the day was uneventful, at least for me.  I watched some other scenes being videoed, and didn’t see Ed Ibanez the remainder of the evening.  At bedtime, I went to bed alone.  Cassie must be sleeping with someone.  That was okay with me.


At some time after falling asleep, I felt someone get into bed next to me.  “Cassie?” I asked, not quite awake.


“Ssh, no, it’s Taylor.  Is it all right if I sleep with you tonight?”


“Sure,” I said.  But then, she really didn’t want to sleep.  I let her eat me and I came in a minute.  She was amazed yet happy I climaxed so fast.  I told her it was because she was so good.  My pussy was sore from the fucking and I enjoyed her tongue and the soothing lubrication it brought forth.  Then I reciprocated and gave her an orgasm.  She seemed appreciative, and then we fell asleep.


In the morning we talked for a while in bed.  I filled her in on my life so far, getting quite a few “No shit!” responses.


While hanging out, having a bagel for breakfast, I pondered my day.  I wasn’t supposed to be in any scenes today, but Dana’s impromptu request yesterday meant things could change.  I hung out by the pool while the others talked about the Manson murders.  It was some sort of anniversary—it was all over the news—and they were telling me that house was maybe about ten miles away.  I thought that was equally cool and sad.  I hated to hear about senseless murders, even those that happened before I was born.


My day picked up considerably when Alan showed up.  I ran to him and jumped into his strong arms.  We kissed like there was no one else around, though I knew we were putting on quite the show.


Later, Dana approached us, winked and said, “You two look like you have some…er…history…together.  How about doing a scene in the pool?  I’ve got the underwater cam here.”


Alan looked at me like it was my decision, not his.  I looked back up at him and shrugged.  Alan gave me an ‘it’s-up-to-you’ gesture.  I said yes—it was with Alan, after all.


While they were setting up to film, Alan and I talked.  I told him I was a little sore and he asked me if I wanted to change my mind.  I smiled at him and said, “Nothing a lot of lube won’t fix.”  He chuckled and hugged me. 


He had undressed into swim trunks and I’d put my bikini top back on.  We acted out like we met by the pool.  I kind of got myself close to him and made some purring noises before telling him I liked his body.  He started rubbing a breast and said he liked mine too.  We kept going like that until our suits were off and I began sucking him, but not before saying “Omigod, you’re soooooo big.”


Dana cut filming so I could get lubed up and climb into the pool along with Alan.  He did me from behind first.  I had a hard time keeping myself upright but with Alan in me I didn’t mind.  We switched positions so he was holding me and lifting me up and down on his cock.  I was screaming my orgasm while Alan surreptitiously glanced at Dana to see what he wanted him to do.  I didn’t know what Dana signaled though Alan came inside me.  Later, they showed me what the underwater cam captured—milky streams of cum oozing out of me around Alan’s throbbing cock, floating in the water.  Nice!


Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day glued to Alan.  For the third night in a row I slept with a different person.  Alan and I made love for over an hour before falling asleep.


I did the ‘younger sister’ scene with Marc early the next morning.  The set-up was I got him alone in a bedroom of the house and ragged on him for never trying anything with me.  This monologue was followed by me pulling off my shirt to reveal my breasts.  You can imagine the rest of the preliminaries.  Marc was good, eating my pussy like he really meant it; almost to the point I was worried I would climax too early (though that’s not a problem for a girl while making porn.)   We finished up in the missionary position and he came all over my belly as I had requested of him and Dana. 


After we were done, Marc whispered to me “Candy, I can’t believe how tight you are.  Jesus, you’re amazing!”


I smiled and whispered back, “I’m glad you enjoyed me, Marc.”


Dana overheard me and laughed.


The highlight of the rest of the day was watching Cassie perform.  She was so much a natural, and I knew she would be a big star some day if she wanted it bad enough.


The lowlight was watching Alan with another woman.  I kept telling myself how stupid it was for me to be jealous.  Jealousy was rampant nonetheless.  The lady’s name was Haylee—a typical porn blond with a heavily augmented chest.  Before I left the room, unable to watch, I thought about Glory and how she was naturally prettier than Haylee.  The memory of Glory made me doubly depressed.


I sat alone by the pool and thought about being here.  I had promised myself I would win the clash of wills with Ed Ibanez and never do this again, but here I was.  I promised myself I’d try to be a ‘normal’ teenager, but falling this much in love with Alan made it seem I’d failed there too.


When Ed returned, I asked him to take me home.  I figured I’d done my share.


He had several checks already written out for me.  As was his practice with me (paid secretly “under the table”) he explained it would be wise for me to deposit them separately so as not to draw attention to me, and thus to him.  I looked at the amounts and saw the total was more than I’d expected.  I guess my college education was paid for sure now. I went looking for people to say goodbye to. 


I found Cassie and we hugged.  “Take care of yourself, squirt,” she said.  “Maybe next summer?”


Probably not, I thought but didn’t say.  That’s what I thought last summer and look where I am.  We made promises to keep in touch but I knew already she wouldn’t, and that was okay.  She had a whole new exciting life to live away from the dullness of Torrance and the beaches.


I found Alan next.  I told him how much I loved him, and then told him that the idea of ‘us’ was never going to work, at least how he envisioned it.  There would be no ‘happily ever after’ when he was twice my age; something we’d discussed countless times before and each time let our desires sweep the practical aside.  As with Cassie, he promised to stay in touch.  Unlike with Cassie, I knew he would.  I knew he would cling to the dream.  He was like a starry-eyed child in that regard.  That was one reason I loved him, and always would.  Someday he would call me and I would see him again.  We would have sensational sex.  And then he would still be the thirty year-old porn actor and I would still be the fifteen (soon to be sixteen) year-old high school student.


We kissed for a long time, and for the second time this week made a spectacle of ourselves.


Mr. Ibanez drove me home.  We didn’t talk much throughout the long, traffic clogged journey.  I pondered the upcoming school year, wondering how it would go.  Would I make the softball team?  Would I meet a boy I liked?  Would I finally be that ‘normal’ teenager?


When I got home, I e-mailed Brian in England and told him a little about how things had gone.  Even though I hadn’t gone into detail he sensed I wasn’t happy with the week in the L.A. hills. 


I vowed not to suppress my will again.  Tenth Grade, here I come!  …A normal Tenth Grade.



If you liked this, e-mail me at and let me know what you think of my writing.  You’ve read the other parts of my story, haven’t you?  This is Part 10.  You can find the rest at the Cotton Candy web site or you can click here to go directly to the next part. Thank you.