"So," Hannah said, crossing her legs, "you signed your first contract, and shot your first films."

"I did," Jonas said with a wry smile. "They weren't, I'm the first to admit, my finest work, but they earned me a certain notoriety in the business."

"They did," Hannah agreed with a nod. "Tabitha Shrew still tells the story of the first time she worked with you - the way she tells it, she couldn't sit down for a week after you were done!"

"Tabitha's a lying slut," Jonas said with an affectionate chuckle. "Fifteen minutes after we were done she was taking on three black guys who were every bit as large as I am."

Hannah laughed. "And then, America - a strange career decision, for an underage porn-star in great demand in England. Why don't you tell me how that happened?"

Jonas smiled warmly, and she felt her heart flutter in her chest. "I'd be glad to," he said.

* * * * *

After Jane's party, I was a wreck. I was angry with her, with myself, with the world for bringing us together - and, of course, Matthias took ruthless advantage of me, using me in every scene he could think of. I didn't care. He was mostly shooting softcore stuff for the late-night TV market at that point, and a night's work would consist of a half-hearted blow-job from a girl who had either been in the industry for far too long or not long enough, then a few grunts and moans for the benefit of the camera. The story of how I lost a measure of my innocence, along with my on-set virginity, is neither interesting nor relevant. I fucked twenty or thirty girls in the month after we split up, and I never reached orgasm once. I was miserable.

Matthias, however, always had an eye on the money: I'd fulfilled my contractual obligations, and he signed me up with an American production company based in LA. They paid a tiny advance, which was even smaller once Matthias had taken his cut, and I said goodbye to England without a second thought. He wanted to get me away from the English sex industry before I lost interest - or before my path crossed with Jane's. America was a new beginning, or so I hoped.

A week later, I arrived in LA exhausted and broke. The production company I had signed with were a hardcore outfit called Sweet Dreams, run by a guy called Daniel Parker, and they had forwarded Matthias the address of my first shoot, and the name of a hotel they had booked me into. I took a cab from LAX, and, an hour later, found myself on the kerb outside a ramshackle building in a rough part of the city. A faded sign on the weather-worn brickwork confirmed that this was the place I would be staying, at least until I got my first pay-check.

My American dream was already turning into a nightmare.

I dragged my bags into the foyer and signed the register, assured the disinterested guy behind the desk that I didn't have any coke to sell him, and climbed the stairs to the third floor, where I found a tiny, dilapidated room with a view of the alley that ran alongside the hotel. There was a double bed that had seen better days, but the blankets were clean and the only smell in the room was of stale air, rather than anything more actively unpleasant. I balanced my case on a rickety table and dug through my meagre belongings until I found the bottle of whisky Matthias had given me as a leaving present. I pulled the cork and drank a mouthful straight from the bottle, then collapsed onto the bed. I couldn't sleep, so I laid back, my hands behind my head, and thought about Jane until the pale sunlight crept through the tattered drapes.

The next morning, I hitched a ride across town the address Matthias had given me: I was expecting a warehouse, or even a proper studio, but the address was for a pleasant two-storey home in a quiet suburban street. I walked up the path, glancing around the well-tended garden, certain that there had been a terrible mistake. I was going to politely enquire if the this house was the scene of a hardcore porn film, and I'd be chased down the street by an angry home-owner, probably with a shotgun.

I knocked hesitantly on the door, and the man who opened it fitted my worst fear: a short, overweight guy in a cheap suit, who stared up at me as if I was selling anthrax door-to-door.

"Yeah?"

"Uh -" I hesitated, terribly aware of how young and English I sounded. "I'm sorry, I may have the wrong address, but my name is Jonas Randall -"

"Jonas!" the man exclaimed, his face splitting into an ugly grin. "Hi, kid, I'm Daniel Parker. Heard a lot about you - seen a lot too!"

"Um - good, I'm glad -" I began, but he was already grabbing me by the shoulder and hustling me into the building.

"Listen, Jonas, we're running a little late today and we've got to get some footage in the can or my distributors are going to rip off my cock and fuck me with it, you know?"

"Yes?" I answered hesitantly.

"Great. Carla's in - " He paused and turned around. "Bobby, where the fuck is Carla? Room four! She's in room four which is," he said, turning me around and aiming me a door, "right through there. Get acquainted. We start shooting in five minutes."

I nodded mutely, and went through into the room he indicated. It seemed to be a rudimentary dressing room, with mirrors and make-up and a shower stall in the corner. The only person in the room was a young, tanned girl, completely nude save for a pair of high heels, applying mascara in the mirror.

"Uh - Carla?" I said hesitantly, and the girl smiled at me in the mirror.

"You must be Jonas. Hi. Let me just finish up, and we can go fuck. You can leave your stuff on the table at the end, there."

"My stuff?"

She giggled. "Your clothes," she explained, and I coloured. "First time, huh?"

"No," I replied, then hesitated. "Well, I mean - I've done films before."

"But not like this? It's okay, hun, we do things differently out here. C'mon, strip out of those clothes and we'll get on set. I'll be gentle, I promise!"

Just for a moment, I considered refusing, but I really didn't have any alternative. This was just the same as I had done in England, except more - graphic. I had nothing to be nervous about. I went to the table Carla had indicated and unbuttoned my shirt. My shoes and socks were next, and then I stripped off my trousers, only leaving a pair of white cotton boxer shorts.

"You're in good shape," Carla commented, and I turned to see her watching me with an interested, dispassionate gaze.

"Thank you," I said politely. "You too."

"What, this?" She did a little pirouette, showing off her lithe, lissome body, with her small, high breasts and womanly hips. Her pubic hair was trimmed into the shape of a love heart, I noticed, and she had a small blue jewel glimmering in her navel. She was, without a doubt, an attractive woman. "I think we'll have some fun, hun," she said with a wicked smile. "But you'll have to leave those shorts behind."

Emboldened by her flirting, I stripped my shorts off and revealed my thick, semi-hard prick. Carla's smile broadened considerably when she saw it. "Damn," she said. "Come on - I don't think I can wait to get my hands on that!"

She took my hand, and I followed her out of the dressing room and along the hall. She pushed open another door. "This is the set for today," she said, indicating a round bed surrounded by cables and arcane electrical equipment, illuminated by a pair of large floodlights. "Did our glorious fucking director tell you what we're doing?"

"No - I mean, I don't know what the plan is."

"Well, don't worry, it's pretty easy. Just follow my lead, okay?"

Daniel finished giving instructions to a pair of guys in jeans and grungy flannel shirts, then turned to us. "Ah, there you are! C'mon, guys, time is money. Carla, our boy here should come with a safety warning attached to his dick - you won't have any trouble taking it, will you?"

Carla quirked an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"Good girl!" Daniel chuckled, and steered us toward the bed. "Well, we've finished the set-up, cameras and sound are ready to go, so let's make some magic!"

Carla waited for the red light to go on above the cameras, then playfully led me to the bed and sat down facing me, her pretty face at groin-height, grasping the semi-erect flesh of my cock and rubbing it generously against her lips. I tried to remain cool and professional about it, but she was remarkable - enthusiastic and wonderfully, thrillingly wanton, it was only a matter of moments before she was slurping expertly on the full length of my rigid cock.

She continued for what seemed like hours, then, suddenly, got to her feet and pushed me onto the bed, then straddled me smoothly and, without a moment's hesitation, sank down the shaft of my cock until I was half-way inside her. She paused then, and squeezed her tits as she flexed her pussy-muscles, waiting for her body to adapt to this new intrusion. Slowly, I squeezed more and more of my flesh inside her willing body - another inch, then another, until her eyes had rolled back in her head and her labia were stretched obscenely around the thick base of my heavily-veined prick. She was tight; far tighter, in truth that I had expected, but once she had accepted my prodigious length, she began to rock back and forth, each movement of her hips dragging a little more of my cock from her sweet, wet hole, then plunging back down onto it with a sigh.

Faster and harder; harder and faster.

I groaned as she rode my dick like a seasoned professional, my hips lifting to meet hers in an instinctive counterpoint that heightened our desire. I began to fuck her more urgently, feeling joy in the sexual act for the first time since -

Since Jane.

Fuck.

My concentration was suddenly broken, and I felt my dick soften inside Carla's wet pussy. I couldn't believe it. The only thing I was good at, the only chance I had to finding a new life, and I was going to screw it up because I couldn't keep my mind off Jane. Carla was sure to notice, she was certain to draw attention to it. I struggled to maintain my erection, but it was a losing battle - and then, suddenly, Carla paused. I followed her gaze, and saw Daniel coming out from behind the camera.

"Good work!" he said enthusiastically, then brought his megaphone to his lips. "Okay, cut it and set for the anal!"

"The what?" I stammered as Carla climbed off my dick, all thoughts of Jane vanishing immediately.

"Anal, darlin'," she said, brushing her hands through her hair, then stroking my shaft with a gentle touch that sent the blood pounding through my veins. "Why, you don't want to fuck my ass?"

"Can you - I mean, can you do that?" I said, gesturing unnecessarily at the foot-long cock that was hardening between us once more. She glanced at it and grinned.

"It's what I'm paid for, baby," she said. "But thanks for worrying. Once you've had a guy's fist in there, you can pretty much take anything!"

"A wha-" I blurted incredulously, but the rest of my question was drowned out by a squeal of feedback from Daniel's megaphone.

"Hey, Carla, babe, you need some lube or you ready to ride?"

"The kid got me good an' wet, Danny, I'm ready when you are," she replied with a brilliant smile, then turned her back on him and sneered, "you fucking jack-ass." Without hesitation, she leaned over the bed, which was so low to the ground that she was essentially touching her toes.

She wiggled her ass at me. I blinked, unsure of what was expected of me, and apparently my hesitation was too much for Daniel's patience.

"C'mon, kid, time is money, and I need some anal! Either get that fuckstick jammed up her ass, or I'll give her a strap-on and she can do you! Move it!"

I stepped forward, and took hold of Carla's womanly hips, jabbing the end of my cock against her puckered asshole. She moaned at the touch, then reached back and spread her cheeks wide apart for me, her red fingernails clawing at the soft pillowy flesh. "Oh, baby, push it into me!" she whispered, and I responded - the thick, slippery tip of my dick pushed against the hole, pressing firmly, and nothing happened. I pushed harder, gritting my teeth against the discomfort as my rock-hard dick started to bend - and then, suddenly, Carla twitched her hips, her asshole gaped, and I stumbled forward as I sank into her to the root and my fat balls slapped hard against her wet cunt.

She screamed so hard I thought someone call the police, and then there was silence. "Fucking hell," I heard someone mutter in an awed tone. Carla was breathing hard beneath me, her body trembling, my enormous dick buried deep inside her ass, the pressure on my cock so unbearably intense that it brought tears to my eyes. I pushed against her hips and tried to withdraw, but she was holding me too tightly. "Don't," she hissed, here eyes tightly closed. "Don't fucking - ah, don't fucking move!"

"I have to -" I whispered back, and she grunted, flexing her muscles and squeezing my cock even more tightly than before.

"Don't," she snarled. "Fucking. Move."

I didn't know what to do - the vice-like grip of her asshole prevented my cock from softening, and, if anything, she was getting tighter. I must have been buried incredibly deep within her - so deep, in fact, that I began to get concerned for her wellbeing when she still didn't move. Then, slowly, she began to push back against me, swallowing every inch of my cock and still demanding more. I couldn't believe it - the erotic urgency of this girl's movements spurred me on, and my cock throbbed and jerked within her. Soon, she was sliding backwards and forwards on four or five inches of hard, thick dick, panting with each thrust - her ass was too tight, too achingly tight on my cock for me to truly enjoy the sensation of fucking her, but a beautiful girl pleasuring herself on your penis is still a wonderfully arousing sight.

She rode me harder, and deeper, pushing back hard against my cock then relaxing her muscles and letting me withdraw, before slamming back against me - soon my whole length was vanishing into her ass with each hot, urgent thrust, and her body was shaking and trembling at the scale of the intrusion - and then, suddenly, she slipped off my aching dick and dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips salaciously around the head of my cock and slurping on it like it was a giant lollipop. I groaned and felt the rising heat of my orgasm, the first since I had fucked Jane over a month ago - and then, suddenly, I was there, and an unbelievable torrent of jism surged from my dick. Carla swallowed once, but there was too much for her to hold in her mouth - she dragged my oozing cock down across her pert titties while the hot mouthful of cum slipped past her lips and dripped down onto her chest. I rocked on my heels, gasping at the intensity of the orgasm, loving the feeling of emptying my over-full balls on this wonderful, beguiling woman.

A last, shuddering surge of cum splashed onto her breasts, and Carla leaned back from me, releasing my cock and licking her cum-covered lips lasciviously. The camera-man, who I had all but forgotten about during our performance, moved past me to get a final close-up on her, then Daniel thumbed the switch on his megaphone. "Okay, Carla, great work, baby! Jonas, go get cleaned up, you're done for today. Get Stephanie set up for the wet scene!" he called to the runners, who promptly dashed from the room.

"The wet scene?" I asked, sitting down heavily on the bed, exhausted.

"Steph's going to wash your cum off my tits with her piss," Carla explained, and I must have looked shocked, because she laughed and stroked my cheek affectionately. "It's just a thing they like to do for this series. Don't worry, darlin', it's better to get pissed on than pissed off!"

With that, she got to her feet, tied a loose robe around her waist, careful to preserve the glistening ropes of cum I had splashed across her tits, and wandered off in pursuit of her next co-star.

I slumped back on the bed, closing my eyes for a moment, wondering what kind of world I had ended up in. I thought of Jane, and I thought of home - and then I had to move, because the props guys wanted to strip the bed and set up for the next scene. I found a robe and put it on, then went off and showered. Feeling somewhat more human again, I went in search of a cup of coffee before facing the long journey back to the hotel. I ventured out into the hallway, and saw some activity around another door - I peeked past the camera crew and my mouth fell open. In the room beyond, Carla was laying back in an ornate bath-tub while a beautiful asian girl straddled her and unleashed a furious stream of golden piss that splashed over Carla's breasts and made her giggle like a school-girl. I shook my head. It was one shock too many, and it was definitely time to leave.

Much later that evening, after a journey across the city that was more educational than enjoyable, I was laying on my bed, hands behind my head in my usual position, when there was a sudden knock on the door. I jumped to my feet, still unsure of myself in this strange, alien city. Who could be visiting me this late at night?

I opened the door hesitantly, not knowing what to expect. In the dark hallway stood Carla.

"Hi," I said. "What - uh, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darlin'. You left without your cheque this afternoon. That cunt-rag Daniel was going to mail it to you, but I know what these places are like, so I offered to bring it round."

"Oh," I said, taking the slim envelope from her hand and opening it. I blinked. "There must be some mistake," I said slowly.

Carla peeked over the slip and frowned. "No, that right - it's only a one-scene rate, remember, you'll do better when you get a title film."

"But this is a fortune," I protested. "I thought - well, I thought I'd get peanuts!"

"You're a gifted guy, Jonas - you're hung like a fuckin' stallion, you did me better than any guy I've had in a long while, you didn't even go soft when I worked over your dick with my ass, and you cum like a fucking fire-hose. You're a hell of a performer. The company realises that, even if they treat you like shit. You could write your own contract out here, darlin' - they're just paying you the going rate."

"Okay," I said hesitantly. I could afford a better hotel, that was for damn sure. Maybe some new clothes, too -

"So, are you going to invite me in, or do I have to suck you off right here in the hallway?" Carla asked with a wicked grin, and I blushed.

"No - no, I mean, come in, please." I pushed the door open wider and let her glide past me. "It's a rat hole, but mi rat hole es tu rat hole."

Carla laughed. "You're funny. You're not like most of the actors I know."

"Well, I'm not really an actor, I'm just - I don't know. A prop, I suppose."

"More like a special effect, if you ask me." She slipped off her coat and sat on the edge of the bed, which sagged dangerously beneath her. "I was disappointed you didn't stick around after our scene. I almost suggested to the director you joined the wet scene."

"Not really my thing," I said casually, fetching a pair of chipped mugs from a cupboard and pulling the cork from the bottle of whisky I had saved from the night before. I splashed some of the scotch into one of the mugs and handed it to her. She sipped and sighed happily, then tilted her head to one side. "You ever done it?"

"Peed on someone?"

"Or had them do it to you."

"No, never," I said, taking a sip.

"It's fun. Maybe we should give it a try sometime?"

I smiled, a little embarrassed by her forthright nature. "Maybe," I said. "But not tonight."

"Oh, no," she agreed eagerly. "Tonight we're just going to fuck."

I laughed. "Oh, are we?"

"I come to your crime-scene hotel, you invite me into your dank little room and ply me with cheap scotch - darling, we'd better fuck, because this is reminding me of my first date." She leaned forward and kissed me, her lips hot and welcome. Soon we were tearing the clothes from each others bodies, desperate for the hot touch of flesh-on-flesh. I eagerly went to work on her breasts and nipples with my eager mouth, sucking hard on the tender young buds in a way that made her claw at my back in desire.

Soon we were naked, and I knelt between her thighs and pushed the immense length of my cock into her slippery, welcoming pussy in one single, long, smooth movement. She clawed at the bed and drew a long, shuddering breath.

"Hun, you're fucking wonderful - how did you get a cock like that? You fuck me any deeper and I'll be able to taste it!"

"Do you - do you want me to fuck your ass?" I asked hesitantly, and she laughed.

"Only the set, honey - why, d'you wanna do it?"

"Not really," I confessed, and she lifted herself up on to her elbows and kissed me.

"Then don't," she said affectionately. "What we did today was business. This - this is just us, okay? You're a man, I'm a woman: let's just have some fun, okay?"

Her reassurance relaxed me enormously, and I began to fuck her with real enthusiasm. She responded beautifully, more gentle and loving than I had feared she would be - the casual, professional porn-star facade she wore through the day had been cast aside, and she sighed and moaned beneath me like a girl with a new toy.

We reached orgasm together, and I collapsed beside her and wrapped her up in my arms. She trembled with the last echoes of ecstasy as I stroked her hair, and all too soon, we fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was morning. Carla was gone, the only sign of her presence in my humble room a large, emphatic lipstick-heart on my mirror - and, underneath, the words, "Who's Jane? You talk in your sleep! Carla."

I climbed out of bed and opened the curtains, and immediately decided that the first order of business was to cash my cheque for the first film, book into a better hotel, and then see a little of the city before my second shoot.

I smiled. It was tough not to. Perhaps things were going to work out after all.

* * * * *

Hannah sighed happily. "This is wonderful," she said, then blushed fetchingly. "For the interview, I mean. People are going to love it."

"I hope so," Jonas said gravely. "I'd been lucky so far - stupid and immature and careless and blind, but lucky. And I even stayed lucky for a while longer, but in the end it ran out. It always runs out."

"What happened?"

"I made a mistake; I was too damn proud, and it almost cost me my life."