Читать книгу Confessions: A Secret Diary - Amber Stephens - Страница 10

Chapter Six

After the day’s shoot, the director invited everyone back to his pad for a party. The film was finished apparently, and the entire cast came along, there were a dozen or so girls and three guys, but the numbers were evened up by the crew, who were mostly men apart from the makeup girl, who didn’t seem entirely happy with the whole situation, but she came along anyway. I liked the look of her; she seemed down-to-earth and not far off my age.

The director’s pad was huge. A giant loft-style apartment in Shadwell, it was, overlooking the river. There were drinks, and cocaine for those that wanted it, but I stayed away. Bob got stuck in to the Charlie though, as did most of the girls and the crew. It was just me and the make-up girl who stayed straight. I’d done my own for my scene, so we hadn’t properly met. I smiled at her and she came over to chat, introducing herself as Maya. She was attractive, petite and olive-skinned.

‘How’d you get mixed up in this?’ I asked.

‘He’s my brother,’ she said, indicating the director. ‘I got into a little trouble and needed a straight job, or at least, as straight as you can get in this business. He helped me out. I don’t know much about anything but I do know how to put on make-up.’

I saw her eyeing the cocaine being hoovered up by a gaggle of actors off the glass coffee table. She had a wistful look in her eye. I didn’t need to ask what sort of trouble she’d been in.

It was pretty rowdy by that point, and the heat was stifling. ‘Shall we get some fresh air?’ she suggested. I agreed and we went out on to the balcony. I sipped my wine and gazed out over the twinkling lights of south London, ended beneath by a sweep of the inky Thames.

‘You seem different to the others,’ Maya said. ‘A bit more … straight?’

‘Really?’ I laughed, looking at her in surprise. ‘I’m anything but straight.’

‘Good,’ she said, and then she leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth.

I was too surprised to push her away, but I didn’t kiss her back. She pulled away, a questioning look in her eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I think I must have given you the wrong idea. When I said I wasn’t straight …’

‘But you’re a porn actor,’ she said, ‘You’ve done girls haven’t you?’

I hesitated for just a second, and then nodded my head. ‘Sure,’ I lied, ‘Sure I have.’ Then she kissed me again, and this time I kissed back.

What I started off thinking, as the kiss began, was that keeping the director’s sister happy was a good move for my career. What I ended up thinking, as she slid her slippery little tongue into my mouth and licked my teeth, was that I wanted to fuck this girl. I had a rough idea what you did with other women, but absolutely no experience. Luckily she took control. She turned me around so I was standing at the rail. She dropped to her knees behind me and I felt her delicate hands slide up my thighs, under my skirt and take firm hold of my panties, I parted my legs slightly and she slid them down in one smooth movement.

Then she hefted my skirt up so my backside was exposed to the cool September air and after a pause, during which she ran her hands gently over the smooth globes of my behind, I felt her lips kiss me at the spot where my spine slips down between my cheeks. She was so gentle, and her face so soft against my skin.

She worked her way down, licking each cheek in turn, and then forced my legs still wider. She paused again for a moment. I stood there, arching my back, and gazing out over London.

Then it happened. I felt her mouth against my pussy and my knees buckled with the sweet ecstasy of the sensation. I felt her jaw moving against my mound and her tongue slipping out and flicking against my clit. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Suddenly a flash of light over the rail distracted me: it was reflected London light off the wine glass I’d been holding. I’d lost control of the muscles in my hand and let it slip. I watched it tumble down away from me, in slow motion, as I was tongued from behind. I came when it hit the ground, both the glass and I shattering into a million pieces simultaneously.

Then we heard cheers from inside and we turned to see the others had drawn the blinds before the glass doors to the balcony and were standing there watching us, whooping and hollering. I smiled despite my embarrassment – I didn’t mind being watched – but Maya hissed in disappointment.

After that we went in and the party really started. It just seemed that all of a sudden everyone was naked, or next to, and getting it on with everyone else. Looking around I could see Bob and another guy roasting a bird like it was Christmas come early. The director was being worked on by three girls, hands, mouths, pussies, everything they could think of to get into his next film. I found myself on a couch between Maya and the lighting guy, who wasn’t much to look at, tell you the truth, but what the hell? He certainly knew how to handle a boom.

He slid me on top of him, so I was facing away and he slipped his cock inside me. I was still horny as hell and, while I’d enjoyed the girl action I’d had from Maya, a good, firm cock helped a bit too. Maya rubbed my clit as I rode him. Never did learn his name. I remember his big, strong hands reaching around and holding my tits as he grunted and thrust himself into me. I liked that. I guess he’d had a bit of Charlie cos he kept it up a long time. I came again. Then hopped off while Maya had a go. She was watching me the whole time. I dropped to my knees in front of them and leant forward to get closer to the action. I watched him pump that cock into her tight little fanny for a bit while I got myself worked up again, then I lowered my face and started lapping at her clit as she rode. She pushed herself forward into my face, groaning, still grinding his slippery cock.

Then I felt someone behind me getting into position and before I knew it I had another cock inside me. I didn’t bother turning around. Maya and the lighting guy came at the same time and I settled back onto the mystery man’s pole behind me. I came for a third time as he fucked me from behind. When I turned around I saw it was the director, he’d been doing me doggy style while I licked his sister’s pussy. Now that’s a bit weird. But whatever floats your boat. I’d already stopped being surprised by this point. It was anything goes as far as I was concerned.

Anyway it did the trick, because I got plenty of work out of him over the next couple of years. He went to jail eventually, after they found some of the girls he’d been using were underage.

In hindsight, I suppose my success in porn wasn’t that surprising, when I look back at pictures of myself from that time. I looked pretty good, slim, but not too thin, big tits, nice and firm even before the boob job in ’92. I was willing to do anything. My first anal scene opened my eyes and more besides that, but it wasn’t long before I was doing double penetration. Remember I was still a teenager and everyone wants a good-looking blonde eighteen-year-old willing to do DP and girl-on-girl on the same day.

The thing was I loved it. I was enjoying the sex. Most of the other girls said they liked it, but when they got drunk they’d tell you what they really thought. Some of them hated it, some were in it for the drugs, some for the money, some cos they’d got mixed up with the wrong man. They mostly hated the actual sex, especially the rough stuff. Some preferred doing other girls, but a lot of them were squeamish about that.

So I was kind of the exception. I loved what I did and I wanted more of it. I soon lost interest in Bob; the only time we’d have sex was when he brought other people back to the flat. Once I had enough money I moved out and got myself my own pad. I didn’t bother giving Bob the address. I didn’t feel bad about it. He’d used me, after all, and ultimately I’d used him to get where I needed to be. I had a fantastic big flat in Chelsea, a burgeoning career and sex with beautiful people whenever I wanted it. I’d stayed off the drugs and didn’t smoke and apart from the odd glass of wine didn’t drink either. I was self-contained and in control.

I got myself an agent and started to make some real money. I was in demand. The reason I was able to ask for such big money was that I never bothered with a cunt double like some girls did. Everyone gets sore after a while, sometimes the big names would ask for another girl to do some of the close-up work, particularly when the guy was big, or there were massive dildos involved. I did it all myself, which gave the director the freedom to pan up and show my face as I was pounded from behind.

Also, I think it was always clear that I was genuinely into it on screen. I rarely had to fake an orgasm.

I started to accept more hard-core stuff, including an S&M flick. They dressed me up in leather and I had to whip some bloke, and then walk all over him. They made me stand on his balls which seemed a bit odd, but the guy seemed to like it. That was a rough set. In one scene two girls held me down while some guy pretended to anally rape me. I was lubed up so it wasn’t too bad. For once I had to act, but in this case like I didn’t enjoy it. The handcuff stuff was great. But it was always better when I was the one calling the shots. I guess it’s this control thing again.

Around this time I started to get a little voice in my head telling me something was wrong. Quiet at first, and I couldn’t make out what it was saying to me. Just that my life wasn’t as perfect as I was telling myself.

I was offered a lead role in Tiberius. You might remember it, it was the biggest-budget porn film ever made, still is, I think. This was the time when internet porn was just starting to damage the movie business, and this was the industry’s response. I was Marissa the Slave Girl, cruelly abused by her master, then rescued by a courtier and taken to live in Tiberius’ palace in Rome.

The orgy scenes were incredible. One of them took three days to film. We stayed on set pretty much the whole time, the food they brought in was real and we were drunk most of the time. Most of the sex was undirected. My character is brought into the ballroom as the orgy is underway. I was inspected by the Emperor and his wife Vipsania, who decide to break me in on a low dais in the centre of the room as everyone watches. Tiberius was played by Johnny Brooks, possibly the best-looking male porn actor there has ever been, with a massive 10-inch sword spoiling the line of his toga, so I was happy about that. Vipsania was played by Jessie Pink, legendary in the business. She was nearly forty by then but still had a fantastic body and a wrinkle-free, beautiful face.

I was wearing a short tunic, with no knickers underneath. Firstly I lay down on the dais and a male slave came over with a bowl of hot water, soap and a razor. He was actually one of the make-up guys and he was totally uninterested in my snatch other than in a professional way, if you get my meaning. Most of the make-up guys travelled the wrong way up the Bakerloo line. I was glad about that because it meant his hand was steady. He gently rubbed foamy soap between my legs and shaved me quickly and expertly. I’m glad he knew what he was doing because that razor was damn sharp. As I lay there I was kicking myself for not getting my clit insured for a million pounds. It was a weird feeling, and I was surprised to find the heat from that sharp blade got me wet. Maybe it was the danger of it, or the novelty. I’d never been shaved before.

Then they told me to sit up on my knees. Jessie lay naked on the dais and I shuffled forward till I was knelt over her face. I lowered my head until we were in a 69 position. I dove in and started eating her out while she jabbed her hot little tongue into my pussy. I could feel my juices dribbling out over her face as she slid her mouth across my smooth, shaven mound.

Then Johnny got into the action. He came around and presented his cock to my face. I left off licking Jessie’s snatch and took him into my mouth. I could only fit half of it in and his girth was such that it was all I could do to avoid choking as he slid himself in and out of my mouth. I focused on his bronzed six-pack twitching before my eyes. Jessie was all the while working on my pussy, but I wasn’t ready to come.

Johnny pulled out and went around to the other end. I returned my attentions to Jessie’s dripping snatch as I felt her fingers opening me gently so that Johnny could slide in between my wet pussy lips. I felt myself being stretched as he thrust himself deep inside. Ten inches is a lot to take, even for a girl like me. As he fucked me, Johnny held my hips better to force my haunches back against his pelvis. Jessie reached around and fingered my ass. I was dimly aware of the other actors watching intently, and beyond them the cameras and lights, but mostly I was thinking about the massive penis pumping slowly into me, the nimble, mischievous finger in my anus and the hot, wet mouth working against my labia.

I exploded in an orgasm as bright as a supernova. I honestly felt I was going to die, it was so good. I swear my life flashed before my eyes. Johnny never stopped his rhythmic, steady fucking and Jessie never let up with her finger and tongue. Eventually I had to pull away and I collapsed on the dais, sobbing with relief and emotional release. The director loved it; it seemed the little slave girl was finally satisfied.

But when the shooting stopped for the day and the cameras were shut off, most of us stayed on; enough eating, drinking and fucking to make the Romans themselves blush pinker than a tart’s fanny.

I had sex with dozens of people that night, working my way through the cast, then the crew. Everyone else was on coke, or ecstasy, or something. I got through on coffee and naked lust. I woke the next morning, stark naked, sleeping on top of two enormous spear carriers.

Later that day one of the producers approached me and asked me if I was interested in something a bit different. I was out of my mind with exhaustion and I felt like someone had stuck a broom up inside me, brush end first. I shrugged, and told him to contact my agent.

‘It’s a farmyard scene,’ he said, when I called him the next week.

‘What, you mean I’m shagging some farmhand on a horse?’ I asked.

‘No, I mean you’d be shagging the horse.’

I burst out laughing. I’d thought I couldn’t be shocked by anything but I was wrong.

‘Actually I’m all right, thanks. I’m not that fussy about who I have sex with, but at this stage in my career, I think I’d prefer to stick with the human race.’

It was an eye opener though. What I was hearing was that people saw me as a girl who’d do anything. I decided that I was going to go for the high-class stuff from then on. My agent got me some auditions for some softer stuff, arty films, you know. Still real sex, but not so hard core. I was comfortably off by then and I could afford to do fewer and better films, just two or three a year. I wrote a couple of books, or at least I had a couple of books ghostwritten for me. They made a joke about me on the News Quiz, they said I was the only woman ever to have written more books than I’d read. I had a guest appearance on a soap opera, I even got on a couple of late-night talk shows and nearly made it into the mainstream, but then the tabloids started printing double page spreads of my early pictures and stills from some of the hard-core stuff I’d done. They’d known about my background all along of course, but they obviously decided to wait until I’d become reasonably well known before they splashed on the story.

That was it for going mainstream. I ran away to LA for a while. The industry over there is much more professional, and if you’ve got your shit together, you can earn a lot. I quite liked it there, but everything just seemed fake, the tits, the tans, the teeth, even the sex. You could never be sure whether the director really thought you were hot in a scene, or whether he said the same thing to all the girls. You could never be sure if the guys were that into you, now Viagra was commonplace. ‘Oh yeah, that’s so good,’ they’d say in a monotone. ‘Yeah suck it, bitch,’ in a voice like they’d rather I did anything but.

Some of the stuff was good. I did one film which was a take on David Cronenburg’s Crash, and the cast and I drove around in flash cars giving each other oral sex and shagging against the steering wheel. We didn’t actually get to do any crashing though; the budget didn’t stretch that far. We had to give the cars back at the end – just as well the seats were leather or else the dry-cleaning bill alone would have bust the budget.

Mostly though, the films were uninspiring and mediocre. No proper story, just a series of gratuitous excuses for shagging. Not turning my nose up, you understand, a cheque’s a cheque and a cock’s a cock, whichever side of the Pond you’re on, but, y’know, I guess I’d known for a while I was missing something in my life. I didn’t understand what, but I figured I wasn’t going to find it in California.

So a couple of years ago, once I’d earned a decent pension, I came back. I’d intended to retire, maybe meet a nice guy who didn’t watch porn and who didn’t know who I was, if there were any. Maybe even have a kid? I didn’t know. I dropped right out of the business, or at least I dropped out of the sex part. I needed to keep myself busy somehow, so my agent hired me as his assistant, it helped him to have someone who knew the business from the inside, so to speak.

Problem was, I missed the sex too much. I’d never stopped enjoying that. The money wasn’t so important. I had control of my life, I had my comfortable house, I even had some friends. I’d always stayed in contact with Maya, and there was my agent and some others from the early days. But it wasn’t enough. I found it easy enough to find men at clubs, or on the net, but they were either dull as shit, or crap in bed, or both. I had a string of one-night stands and to be fair I never gave ’em a chance I suppose. I was like an alcoholic trying out different sorts of fruit juice. I missed Johnny Brooks, and Trevor the Truncheon. I’d send these young, hopeful girls out to shoots around the country, and all the while I’d be wishing it was me going off, not knowing quite who I was going to be working with, or what I’d be asked to do. It was that slight sense of wrongness that I missed. The sense of danger I loved. Like the feel of that hot razor against my pussy lips.

So I talked to my agent and he shrugged and said I should go for it. I made a comeback. This time on the internet. I’d never done this kind of thing before but there’s good money in it. There’s this company that does interactive stuff. Where you and some bloke, or some girl, sit on a bed and wait for the punters to e-mail you what they want you to do. I found it pretty dull. Most of ’em didn’t have any imagination.

‘Do it to her doggy style’, or ‘suck her tits’. And there’d be long periods where nothing would happen so you’d just sit and look at each other trying not to laugh.

I tried to get back into films but I wasn’t eighteen any more, and of course I’d lost my reputation as the girl who’d do anything. There were plenty of girls who would. I stumped up some money to produce the sort of things I wanted to do. Films with a story. We did a hospital thing, Erection Room, and a lawyer one called Banging the Gavel, but they never came to much. We lost money in the end. I kept it going longer than I should have, I didn’t have my mind on the numbers, just on the opportunities to have sex. My after-shoot parties were legendary, there’s footage of me on the internet at one of my own parties being penetrated by three men at once while drinking a glass of champagne. Think about it.