The Victory Lap Audition

5 days ago I had been in jail. 3 days ago I had done my first work in a porno movie. Today it was back to hooking. It was lunchtime and I was sitting in a bar trolling for customers. Things weren't looking good, so I paid my tab and walked back to my place.

Gary from the studio was waiting for me in the parking lot below my place. The perfect specimen of a Midwestern hood, he was tall, muscle bound and poorly dressed in black jeans and a blue pullover shirt. He had been sweating as it was mid-day, hotter than hell and humid. His hair looked like it had salad oil in it or something.

He smiled but didn't say a word. He just waved me over and opened the car door. It was a land yacht -- a Lincoln or Caddie or something -- and the inside of it looked air conditioned and comfortable. I climbed into strange men's cars all the time, so I slid in and he slid in behind me.

I found myself sitting between Gary and a much older, well dressed man. Gray hair. Still good looking in an old executive type of way. Expensive suit. Big watch. Cuff links. Nice cologne.

The man nodded a Hello, then a second nod to the driver in front and we darted into traffic. We were on the freeway before anyone spoke.

"I am a big fan." The old guy smiled. "You are a natural."

I assumed he had seen my big scenes.

"Thanks. I really tried. I used to do plays in high school."

That sounded lame, but I was trying to keep the conversation going. I was also wondering where we were headed, but no one volunteered, and the conversation stalled.

"We had trouble finding you." This from Gary.

"I was out working or trying to. Slow day."

"Hard to believe. You look hot today."

Gary was checking me out - or at least he was checking out my boobs, which looked like they would fall out of the low-cut sun dress I was wearing.

"Well, if we got time I can give you a blowjob. $40." I was mostly joking, but I figured if he was into it, I might as well ply my trade.

The old man looked at me and just smiled. "Honey, you're selling yourself too cheap."

"Okay, $100 then. $150 for both of you. I'll do that thing with my tongue."

He laughed. "Tempting, but we're about there. We'll have time to get to know each other later."

As if on cue, we took a quick right turn off the freeway, and quickly the car was headed onto a side road surrounded by corn fields that stretched in every direction. Another right and a long driveway, at the end was a large fancy mansion. It was bigger than many of the motels I worked. Big stone pillars. Lots of brick. Double doors with stained glass. Classy as shit. I was guessing a country club, but there was no golf course that I could see.

We exited the air conditioned vehicle to a blast of heat, and then another blast of welcome cool air as we entered what turned out to be a private residence.

Once inside, the money quotient went up fast. I don't even have words to describe some of the décor, flooring and wall covering. I had only ever seen anything like this on television.

We were led through the house to a big room I guessed might be a game room, this one with a pool table, full bar with 8 stools, two different sitting areas and three large TV's all playing different things. One side of the room was all floor to ceiling glass overlooking a swimming pool, spa and big pool deck with what looked like and outdoor cabana and a whole other bar.

Inside and outside, I recognized various people I had seen from the studio including cameramen, the make-up lady, and a few of the minor actors and actresses from the production I had been in. Some were playing games, others sunning by the pool.

There was also a cadre of businessmen sitting on some sofas around an oversized coffee table and that's where they pointed me to. The producer was front and center.

I took a seat across from the product and gave him a nod. "Hey there, you been over to the jail again?" The producer had met me when I was leaving the jail after doing 30 days for soliciting.

"Always looking for new talent, Darling."

"You just found me. You got more talent than you need right now."

"That's what we're here to discuss. Let's get started."

I was quickly introduced to the men sitting around the room and they were all potential investors in a major new film. A few of them said nice things about my last role and there was some small talk then quickly discussion on dollar figures, time I would be on film and what I would be expected to do. The producer seemed to be in my corner and was helping me negotiate elements of my contract. I don't remember who suggested it, but as part of getting the deal closed, I'd do something called a "victory lap audition." The men at the table seemed to like that.

I had no idea what that meant, but figured as part of the "audition" I'd have to blow for fuck all of them but at the payday I was looking at, I was pretty okay with that. I wasn't stupid -- I had figured out that these were the money men who invested to get these movies made -- keeping these men happy seemed like the right thing to do.

But it turns out that wasn't what a victory lap audition was -- a victory lap audition means you are going to perform a scene in the film you're already signed for. You've got a part -

but now you're working for the best part. I had already negotiated a price and the "acts" I was committed to, so it the part really didn't matter, but again, I saw this as investment in a possible career.

The upshot of all of this was that I was going to do a scene -- suck a dick -- right there in that big room. The fee we'd agreed to was almost three times what I'd made on the first film. I'd have done it on a street in broad daylight for that.

Word got out fast and pretty quick a crowd gathered, and a man walked into the room I had not seen before. A big massive black man. He had a hard face like he was angry at the world, and a body that had been built through years of physical activity. Something in his manner told me that he would be a hard man to please. He was my obvious co-star for this event and he stopped in the center of the room. I was obviously supposed to meet him there.

There wasn't a lot of preamble to it. I got down on my knees on the carpet -- stepping into the field of play. Everyone formed in a loose circle around us, with an obvious gap so the money men would view us from their seats.

I knew I was expected to put on a show- so I first reached out just examining his bulge with my hand though his pants. It was like I was discovering cock for the first time. He wasn't even hard and there was already a monster in there, alive and growing. I traced the outline with my fingers, cupped his balls from below, and finally just put my mouth over it and bathed it through the material with my wet breath.

Finally, after building the anticipation, I went for the zipper and moved it down slowly, then did the pants for greater access, reaching in to untangle his cock from a tangle of underwear. It was a dark, angry purple at the tip, fading back to a more appetizing milk chocolate color at the base. Not incredibly large, maybe 9 inches or so, but thick. Like soda can thick.

He must have been new to the crew as there was some murmuring and even a small gasps as I went to work using my tongue to bring his cock to a full attention. I moved around it, exploring the shaft. Nibbling. Admiring. Licking. Taking a moment to try to put the tip of my tongue into the little hole.

I had no idea what I was going to do with this in this situation. I'd normally put him in me and hope nothing tore, but the assignment was to bring him off with my mouth, so that's what I would do.

I took a moment to pull his pants and underwear down completely. It was a struggle to get them around his big muscular thighs. The sculpted muscles of his ass gave me little tingles just to look at. His short, springy African American pubic hair was a totally new experience for me and it took some time to get used to as I ran my tongue around his thighs and took a few moments to bathe and suck his tight balls.

Finally he was completely erect. The feeling of his fat cock had the feel of a firm rubber tube -- so different than the rock hard but thinner vein filled cocks I was used to. It was like a different kind of penis entirely. I sized it up with my hand and thought about how to even get it in my mouth as I licked just above the line of his pubic hair.

Finally, I moved to take the monster completely into my mouth. It did not go down easy.

I had sucked a lot of cock by this point in my life. It was a popular service in my business. Most cocks got hard and stayed that way, until the grand finale, and you could generally breathe around them when they were in your mouth and you could easily move your tongue around them.

This was more like deep throating the content of one of those cans of uncooked biscuits. It filled my mouth my mouth in a way that occupied every nook and cranny. An unrelenting mouthful of black cock that left me few choices on how to proceed.

I tried to make a show of it, looking into this eyes as if I was in heaven as I choked down that fleshy cock. I used my hand to hold him at the base and a second to hike up my dress and then slide into my panties. Letting my fingers do a dance in my vagina while I sucked always seemed to inspire me and I knew it made for great optics.

I took some time then, to just enjoy his dick for a while. Ever the professional, I rolled out the red carpet that was my tongue and welcomed him in and out of my mouth in an ever changing rhythm. We swapped power -- sometimes he would fuck my face and sometimes I would suck his cock. When I was inspired to, I would force my down my throat enough to almost gag and would find myself spitting him out just so I could breathe again.

After 10 minutes or so, I tasted pre-cum but felt like I was no closer to finishing my task. My knees began to get a bit sore. My throat was growing raw. Amazingly, my lips felt stretched out and abused. Throughout it all, his face registered as somewhere between pissed off and passive. His eyes cold even as I made a show of swallowing his cock while masturbating into my panties.

Something had to give here. Failure was definitely a threat, but I had an idea. If I was to bring him off with my mouth, I'd have to be a bit more innovative.

I used my last will to force my face over his cock and swallowed him one more time -- giving him a final chance to pump deep into my throat a few times before I finally spit him out in one last gasp for air.

I grabbed him by the hips and turned him around 180 degrees then, running my tongue over his hips and finally diving deep with my tongue into the cleavage of his well toned ass. The audience gasped a bit as I went to work, alternatively nipping and mouthing the thick muscle and then fucking his hole with my tongue.

This was no simple rimjob I used my whole mouth, sucking the puckered hole and driving deep. An enthusiastic French kiss, with a southern twist. I reached around to grab his cock and felt for the first time that his cock was about to blow. I took a moment to spit a big wad of spit into his other hand and went to work on a wet slippery hand job while I violated his asshole and I think that finally did the job.

Within a minute I could feel the first contortions and the involuntary jerking in his muscle as the first big spurts launched from his cock. I finished of the bit of his butt I had been tongue fucking and dived to reposition myself so that I could catch what remained of his ejaculated. The cum that I had caught in my hand during those first spurts I used to coat his cock, and I slowly licked it off while a never ended flow of small dribbles continued to paint my face with silky lotion.

He finally pushed my off his cock -- angry that he had seemingly lost control of the situation. The audience was still and waiting with rapt attention, waiting to see what came next.

As a final act, I bent down before him and licked the drops of cum off the floor, taking them into my mouth and showing them to him on my tongue before closing and swallowing and showing him how I could make it all disappear by opening my mouth again.

The man -- and I never did learn his name -- pulled up his pants enough to waddle over to a nearby chair. H sank into it as if in a stupor, his still deflating cock leaking a small puddle onto the leather cushion.

I stood up, repositioned my dress and panties, wiped what I could from my face and, as they said in the old Charles High School drama department, "dropped my character."

There was applause -- strong applause actually -- and so I smiled and took a small bow. The make-up gal tossed me a towel and gave me a thumbs up, and after wiping my face and hand thoroughly I returned to my seat with the money men and producer.

"What the fuck even was that." One of the money men asked. He was stunned and almost speechless.

"It's a favorite role that I play. I call it the Shameless Nasty Slut. I find it helps me get in the spirit of things to think of it as a character part. Did you like it?"

The producer smiled and laughed and said, "Baby, I can't fucking wait to get you back in front of a camera."

The old man, who hadn't said a word in a long while, simply raised his glass. "I'll drink to that. Holy fuck, I will drink to that."