That thought summons another—a memory really—of different place and time, of two different girls. I bite it down, push it away, because it’s a Raven thought…except not really, because even though Raven was there, it’s the other girl I want to think about, it’s the other girl I’ve been secretly jacking off to for the last three years.
It’s Devi Dare that Logan O’Toole thinks of when he wants to get off by himself.
And then out of the corner of my eye, I see Tanner raise a finger, our signal that we’ve got enough of the foreplay and it’s time to move on. I am so reluctant to stop all this when I have both girls kissing and grinding so nicely on top of me, with Devi and her perfectly plump ass hovering in my mind…
With a low growl, I fist one hand into Ginger’s fire engine red hair and the other into Lexi’s silky blond locks, and I stand up, dragging them both with me, forcing them down to their hands and knees where they crawl after me like the little minxes they are.
I let go of their hair and walk backward to my bedroom, going slowly enough that Tanner can join my backwards walk with a camera and so the girls don’t bruise their knees clambering across my hardwood floors.
Neither Ginger nor Lexi get off on such overt submission, but that’s fine because they are faking it so well for the camera, waggling their asses and batting their eyes as they prowl towards my bedroom door like cats. It’s also fine because I’ve tried to stay away from the hardcore submission scenes for a while (three months) for a plethora of reasons (Raven, Raven, Raven) and playful, fake dominance is exactly the kind of facile, uncomplicated work I’ve been burying myself in lately.
“Okay, that’s good. Give me about fifteen minutes to set up?” Tanner doesn’t wait for a response as he trots back to the living room for his equipment. I go into my bedroom to make sure I don’t have embarrassing shit all over the place, which I don’t, just laundry and endless stacks of external hard drives and some tax stuff shoved haphazardly into a binder. I pull the covers tighter across my already-made bed (I make my bed every morning, just like my mom taught me) and almost step on a pile of DVD cases lying on the floor. I pick up the movie on the top.
By now, I can almost read Raven’s name without flinching. Raven’s Real Playdates was a feature-length film we made near the very beginning of our relationship, only a couple months in, and while I usually give all the DVDs I get from my films away as prizes and contest incentives, I kept this one. I flip the case over to look at the back, at the still of Raven lying back getting her pussy licked. The licking is being done by a smiling girl on her hands and knees, a girl with long cinnamon hair and golden-brown skin.
I’m already hard, but the sight of Devi Dare with her naked ass in the air is enough to make a man insane. Especially when that man remembers all too well what it was like to touch her, what it was like to push his cock into that smiling mouth.
“You okay?” I asked, right before the filming started and she, Raven and I climbed onto the bed.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “It’s my first real scene though, so…”
“Take it easy?”
A sunny laugh. “I was going to say make it memorable.”
It was memorable for me at least. I’ve jacked off to both the memory of that scene and the actual thing on DVD enough times to have every gasp and moan memorized. And still I’m about to come just thinking about it.
I need to fuck someone. Where is Tanner with the cameras?
By the time I’ve kicked my dirty boxers and the Criterion Collection DVD cases under my bed and walked back out, Tanner is still breaking down equipment and the girls are already back on their phones. Ginger is apparently tweeting selfies of her tits, while Lexi giggles at something she’s reading.
I accept the fact that fucking is still a ways off and I readjust my raging erection as I help Tanner bring in his camera stands and lighting boards.
“Are you going to Vida’s party tonight?” Tanner asks as we work. “You should, you know. Networking and all that bullshit.”
“I honestly haven’t thought about it,” I say, which is a lie. I’ve thought about it a lot. Vida Gines is the grand-maven of the porn scene right now, a former star turned producer, and her party tonight is celebrating her company’s acquisition of Lelie, a popular Dutch feminist porn studio. And that makes this party a problem for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love feminist porn. The authenticity, the real women, the real orgasms, and I am a little obsessed with how creative and visual the directors are. Not to mention that my erection-fairy Devi Dare has only done the fair trade, female-friendly girl-girl stuff since Raven’s Real Playdates, and I make it a point to watch every single one of those.
Plus, Vida’s party is going to be huge, and while O’Toole Films is doing well, it never hurts to rub shoulders with affiliate managers, distributors, and new talent.
No, the problem is that the party will have the feminist porn crowd there. And the art-porn crowd, and the alt-porn crowd, and the locus at the middle of those three groups…
Raven.
My brain stutters to a halt, and I blink at the lighting board I just set on the floor.
Tanner reads my mind. “She may not be there, you know.”
“I know,” I say defensively, like my brain hasn’t just been immolated by a thousand terrible, wonderful memories.
“And even if she is, maybe it’s time you showed her that you’re over…whatever it was that happened. You’re one of the biggest names in the industry right now—this is your playground too. You can’t hide from everything forever.”