Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I would like to make it clear that I, Roser. P of Madrid, deny the accusation that I had sex with four men in twenty-four hours. One, I admit to. I would consider a plea bargain whereby I cop to two. But Roser. P made love to, at most, two of those men. The others went with Joana La Loca.
Now, I already hear the cries of, “Objection!” from the opposing bench.
They will counter that I AM Joana La Loca. But this is only true anatomically. Joana shows little, if any, interest in Medieval European history, whereas I attended an interesting lecture on that topic on the very day these events took place.
Joana has no siblings. She has no friends. She is not on the electoral or tax rolls. She appears to have no existence at all outside of the six extant videos in which she appears. She is, essentially, an un-person.
Roser. P, on the other hand, is very much alive. So, allow me, good jurists, to guide you through my account of this strange twenty-four-hour period in my life.
*
03.00 am.
I remember that my bed was creaking as the guy moved in and out of me. I was willing him to hurry up and finish. I was exhausted. The alcohol was coursing through my veins. I had cum, albeit it not particularly memorably.
I knew virtually nothing of the man whose naked body was so intimate with mine. We’d met on Tinder. We’d had drinks. A lot of them.
And now, just hours after we’d met, I had my legs wrapped around his as he thrust inside me. My eyelids were drooping even as he fucked me. He hadn’t been a terrible fuck. I was just wiped out and drunk.
“Come on, I want to sleep,” I muttered, “Please hurry up. I’m tired.”
He said nothing but increased his stroke a little. He smelt of old spice and beer. His breath was now sour, and I am sure mine was as well. I felt his dick thumping in and out. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to come too, yet would not, perhaps could not stop before the tension in his erect penis was relieved.
“I could suck it for you?” I mumbled.
“No…no…I’m nearly…” He increased speed again and now he really was smashing into me. I don’t think he could have driven that penis any faster in than he did. And then, at last, he cried out and I felt him shoot his load inside me.
As soon as he’d cleaned up, our heads hit the pillow and we both were out like lights.
*
08.00 am.
The alarm clock woke us both. Immediately, I knew I had woken still pissed from the night before. My head was pounding and, when I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my vision was slightly blurred.
I knocked back a glass of water and used the toilet. I took two ibuprofens. I went back to bed.
“Is it ok if I use your bathroom, Joana?”
“It’s Roser.”
He looked confused.
“I’m sure you said your name was Joana.”
“That’s ok. I forgot your name too. Martin?”
“Mateo.”
“Yes, you can use the bathroom, Mateo. But I need to get going soon.”
When he was in the bathroom, I went to the kitchen. I’d meant to make coffee. But there was a half empty wine glass on the sideboard. I knew I shouldn’t. I was like the sailor who knows that the saltwater would bring temporary relief but ultimately kill him. I hovered. And I gave in. I knocked back that wine at twenty minutes past eight in the morning. I felt better at once. Better, and more drunk.
*
09.30 am.
I sat in the lecture hall, making notes on my laptop. I sat between Pau and Maria, two friends from college. I could barely keep my eyes open.
“You stink of booze.” Pau wrote on a paper that he passed to me, “Go home.”
I shook my head irritably. I couldn’t go home. I was expected at work at midday.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it was work. It wasn’t the same type of work that you might consider hard labour. But I was paid to entertain the lonely and the unloved and the ones bored with mainstream entertainment. I was paid to add to the number of people they’d seen naked in their lifetime. I was paid to be their fantasy.
Today’s shoot would be the riskiest yet. We were going to film in the park, in broad daylight. I had tried to picture how it would all work. Would there be screens or bed sheets put around us? How would the sound work? What if the police came?
That, I had an answer for. I would be secretly glad if they did. It would be my offramp from this world. Like the criminal secretly wanting to stop, I was doing it for the money, not for the love of it.
Just then, an email popped into my inbox.
“Hope we’re still on for tonight? P. X”
Oh my! It had slipped my mind! It was tonight that Petr the Pornstar was coming over to mine. I had completely forgotten.
We’d met on my last shoot. Petr was hot and I’d regretted that the storyline we’d filmed hadn’t involved him screwing me. He’d just spanked me, and I’d sucked his dick.
Later, he had sent me an email saying,
“We should fuck. I’ll try and get us a producer to make it if you’re interested! Of course, it wouldn’t have to be on camera LOL!”
I didn’t want to cancel. But I would have to find some time to sleep it off before then.
*
Midday
Andres, the producer, met me at Principe Pio metro station. I felt a bit better, as I’d wolfed down a large bacon sandwich after class and had a couple of glasses of Chardonnay. The headache was nearly gone. He walked me into Casa de Campo parc. It was chilly, the tail end of winter. I wasn’t looking forward to getting naked.
“How are we going to do this without being seen?” I asked.
“We’ve picked a quiet spot, behind some hedges. It’s during the working day, so there will be fewer people around. And we’ve paid a trio of homeless guys to keep an eye out for cops!”
“Seriously?”
“Yep! Look, don’t worry about it. This is one of the biggest parks in the world. It’s five times bigger than Central Park, you know.”
“And this movie doesn’t have a script?”
“No, the whole idea is that it’s a spontaneous fuck. The working title is, “Joana La Loca so horny she can’t even wait to go home!”
“I’ll start working on the Oscar speech,” I said dryly. Andres smiled.
I met the male performer. He was blonde and wore jeans and a pullover. He introduced himself as Marcos Massivo, which made me chuckle. He was the first male performer I’d met who did not give me his real name.
“Right, first, you make out. Roser, you whisper, “I can’t wait until home.” Marcos nods. Then, Marcos, you lie on your back. Roser, you take his trousers down then blow him. After a few minutes, you take down your knickers. You only get naked below the waist at first. You crouch over him, put him inside you and bounce up and down on his dick, crouching, bending on your knees. As you do that, remove an item of clothing at intervals of about a minute. So, pullover, t-shirt, bra.
Marcos, if you can’t come in cowgirl, give a signal and you can try pumping her in missionary. The idea is that this is a one position fuck. It’s in the park. It’s dangerous, naughty and quick. We’d like to get the cum shot on her face or torso. Up to you. Any questions?”
We both shook our heads. It was the most specific direction any director had given me so far.
Within seconds of the camera rolling, we were making out. We both kissed well, and running my hands over his muscular body and feeling my own body caressed turned me on a little. At least, I grew damp enough that he could enter me without pain.
I had giggled at his name, but when he undressed it was clear that the name was apt. I’d filmed with five porn actors so far. Up to now, all had been better endowed than the average guy, but there was only one I would have described as huge, Andreu, who was in my first film. Marcos was his first serious rival.
I knelt and began to cast my hardening spell on his wand. I soon sucked up his erection, then I crouched above him as if doing squats at the gym. A minute later, I was bouncing, bouncing on that dick. I did dozens of squats on it, as if I were some gym coach that had been granted her greatest wish in heaven. And, wow, he had quite the member!
But doing it outside was nice. It was strange feeling the cool fresh air playing around my body. It was weird looking up at birds flying overhead as I had sex. It was strange observing white clouds and the wan crescent moon hanging like a flaccid cock in the sky while I bounced on a real one, a cock that Joana La Loca’s body had rendered erect and straight as a ruler...
