I should probably start by apologizing for where I left you.

I could tell you I paused there because it was a natural place to break the story.

It was.

But mostly I figured some of you needed a minute.

I hope you used it wisely.

We're going back to In My Mouth, because the movie only gets hotter from there. But before Mikki makes her choice, I need to tell you about something that happened during the production.

Almost everything had been blocked out ahead of time. Freddy knew where he wanted everybody positioned, when each woman would move in and out of the action, and where the cameras needed to be. He taped marks to the carpet. He knew how long a magazine of film lasted and exactly how much of it he could afford to waste. There was choreography to the whole thing.

The problem was that choreography couldn't account for everything.

It couldn't account for liking one actress more than another, or for somebody doing something that felt better than anything Freddy had written down. And it couldn't account for the very real possibility that the guy in the middle of it all might finish before the director had everything he needed.

So far in my career I did a really good job of cumming on cue. It made me reliable. It made me someone who didn’t waste anyone’s time.

Here's something you would never guess from the finished movie.

I came early.

Somewhere during the orgy, I felt the end coming about ten minutes earlier than I'd budgeted for. There was no time for a production meeting. Freddy was rolling, six women were in frame, and the last thing anybody needed was for me to stop the scene and announce that Benny Bolton was about to blow.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I pulled out, turned away from the cameras, and shot my load into a potted plant.

Freddy never said a word. Not then, not afterward. He just watched me walk back into frame, waited for the girls to settle, and said, "Rolling."

I had no idea whether he'd seen it until the wrap party, when he handed me a beer and asked if I wanted to go apologize to the plant.

Fortunately, I was still hard. That's the part that saved it. I took a few seconds, put myself back together, and stepped back into the shot.

Freddy and his editor cut around it so cleanly that Benny goes from one woman to the next without missing a beat. No pause. No reset. No plant.

That's the thing about these movies that nobody tells you. What you rent is a lie told at twenty-four frames a second. The finished film is smoother, sexier, and better timed than anything that actually happened on the day.

And at the time, a hotel plant felt like the biggest crisis of my week.

Which should tell you how good I'd gotten at pretending. I had a stomach the color of a grape, a district attorney for an uncle, and six days to decide whether to hand him my entire industry.

But that's later.

Somewhere in Las Vegas, there's a hotel plant that had a very different experience making In My Mouth.

By halfway through the movie, we were talking over the dialogue.

We weren't talking over it because it was bad. We were talking over it because it was working, and once that became obvious, the whole room relaxed into the kind of commentary you only get from people who are genuinely having a good time.

Cassandra started calling out continuity errors like a sports announcer. Somebody began predicting which character would die next, and got two in a row right. Every time one of Freddy's homemade effects hit the screen, the group applauded.

One of them earned it. There's a moment where the killer cheerleader comes through a screen door, and the head is so obviously rubber you can see the seam along the jaw — and it's still the scariest thing I saw all year. Freddy built it out of a flashlight, a smoke machine, and about forty dollars.

Jerry Baxter sat at the far end of the group with a carton of Chinese food, working his chopsticks with the expression of a man who could not understand why anyone would willingly watch something this ridiculous.

Freddy barely watched the movie.

He watched us.

Every time we laughed, he smiled. Whenever one of his homemade effects got a reaction, he looked like a magician who had just pulled off a trick. He knew the movie was cheap and that we could see the seams. None of that embarrassed him.

And sitting beside that empty pool, I started to understand why.

Killer Cheerleaders from Kissimmee probably cost less than the catering budget on a studio picture. But Freddy had still made a movie. He'd taken whatever money, locations, actors, fake blood, and rubber body parts somebody handed him and turned them into ninety minutes people wanted to keep watching. Maybe some of us were laughing for reasons he hadn't intended. We were still laughing.

Watching him watch us, I realized that was his real talent. Hand Freddy Marx enough money for film, a camera, and food, and he'd find a way to put something on the screen that worked. The seams were part of the charm.

Which was why he was so determined to make In My Mouth more than just another porno.

Jerry took another bite of his lo mein.

"I still don't get what's so fucking funny," he said.

That only made us laugh harder.

Later that night, I found Jerry sitting alone beside the drained pool. The hotel was still closed for renovations, so the water was gone and the tile was stained in rings where it used to be. A chrome ladder climbed down into nothing.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Do I look okay?" Jerry replied.

"Honestly? You always look a little pissed off," I said.

Jerry laughed.

"I lost a part on General Hospital last month," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Auditioned. Read twice. Got it." He poked at the carton with a chopstick. "Then somebody at the network found out what I do for a living," he said.

"Found out?" I asked.

"They'd already seen me. One Life to Live, a couple of walk-ons back in eighty-one. That was fine. That was an actor." He set the carton down. "This was different. This was somebody's assistant renting a tape," he said.

"Did they say anything?" I asked.

"A sponsor did." Jerry smiled without much in it. "The show sells soap. They got nervous about hiring a man with his dick out," he said.

"That's fucked up," I said.

"I'm an actor who fucks," Jerry replied. "There's a difference."

I sat down beside him.

"When I got into this business, we were making movies," Jerry said. "Thirty-five millimeter. Scripts. Characters. Our names on marquees. You could actually convince yourself it might lead somewhere."

"What happened?" I asked.

"VHS," Jerry replied. "Nobody needs a theater anymore. Now they need a camera, a bedroom, and two people willing to fuck."

He gestured at the building behind us with the chopsticks.

"You used to be able to take a girl to an adult movie. Now you rent a tape and jerk off on your own couch. That's not a business. That's a habit," he said.

"You don't like making these movies?" I asked.

"I like acting," Jerry replied. "I like making movies. I just wish somebody would let me do it with my clothes on once in a while."

I laughed.

"You would've been huge if you'd gotten into this ten years ago," Jerry said.

"You think so?" I asked.

"Absolutely," Jerry replied. "You'd be flying around the country appearing at theaters. Now you'll be lucky if somebody flies you to Buffalo to sign autographs at an adult bookstore."

"Maybe I've always wanted to see Buffalo," I said.

"Then you're fucking golden," Jerry replied.

Jerry looked back toward the hotel.

"That's why I couldn't laugh at Freddy's movie," Jerry said. "People can call it cheap. They can call it stupid. They can say the monster looks like a Halloween mask, because it does. But nobody's going to tell Freddy he can't make another movie because he made that one."

For the first time, I understood why Jerry had been so quiet.

He wasn't angry at Freddy.

He was jealous.

Freddy could be laughed at. Freddy didn't care. That was the whole trick, and Jerry had never figured out how to do it. He'd spent six years in this business flinching every time somebody said the word porno in front of a civilian. Freddy had spent one afternoon in a rubber mask factory and come out bulletproof.

That was the difference between them. Not talent. Not looks. Not even money.

Freddy wasn't embarrassed.

Jerry was twenty-eight. I was eighteen. It was the first time in my life that ten years had looked short.

He got up, dropped his carton in the trash, and shook my hand. Then he went up to his room.

There was no way I was going to sleep without hearing a voice from home first.

The lobby still had plastic sheeting taped over half the reception desk, and the payphones sat in an alcove by the elevators. Two of the three had OUT OF ORDER cards taped to the receivers. I picked up the third, dropped in a quarter, and pressed zero.

"Operator. How may I help you?" the operator asked.

"I'd like to make a collect call to 213-555-7799," I said. "I'm trying to reach Annie Mitchell. This is her brother, Tommy."

There was a click, a pause, and then the flat electronic ring of a phone two hundred and eighty miles away.

Ashley answered on the first ring.

"I have a collect call for Annie Mitchell from Tommy Mitchell," the operator said. "Do you accept the charges?"

"Yes!" Ashley squealed.

"How are things there?" I asked once we were connected.

"Blake stopped by this morning," Ashley said. "He told Annie no skipping school, no disappearing, and no going anywhere without letting the bodyguard know."

"Bodyguard?" I asked. "Blake sprung for a bodyguard?"

"Yes," Ashley replied. "Annie hates it."

"That means she's still Annie," I said.

"Blake asked me some strange questions about you, too," Ashley said.

"What kind of questions?" I asked.

"He wanted to know if you'd ever asked about where other people shoot or where they live," Ashley replied. "He also wanted to know if anything strange had ever happened on one of your movies."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Police showing up. Somebody getting arrested. A shoot suddenly getting shut down," Ashley replied.

"None of that has ever happened," I said.

"I know," Ashley replied. "That's what I told him."

"Then why is he asking?" I asked.

"I think he's worried about you," Ashley replied.

"Because of Jason?" I asked.

"Because of what Jason asked you to do," Ashley replied.

"So?" I asked.

"Tommy, he wanted you to give him information about people Blake works with," Ashley replied.

"I told him to go fuck himself," I said.

"I know you did," Ashley replied.

"Then what's the problem?" I asked.

"I don't know," Ashley replied. "Maybe Blake is wondering if Jason changed your mind."

"Blake thinks I'm a fucking snitch?" I asked.

"I didn't say that," Ashley replied.

"You basically did," I said.

"There's a difference between a snitch and a guy who talks," Ashley replied. "You're a guy who talks."

"That's not better," I said.

"It's not worse either," Ashley said. "Blake just wants to know which one you are before Jason does."

"Can I talk to Annie?" I asked.

"Of course," Ashley replied.

A few seconds later, Annie came on the phone.

"How's your new shadow?" I asked.

"Annoying," Annie replied. "Everybody at school kept asking who he was."

"What did you tell them?" I asked.

"That he's my parole officer," Annie replied.

I laughed.

"Please don't tell people that," I said.

"Then tell Blake to get me a less obvious bodyguard," Annie replied.

"Just listen to him and stay with the bodyguard, okay?" I asked.

"I know," Annie replied. "And don't do anything stupid."

"That's a pretty broad request," I said.

"Try," Annie replied.

"I'll try," I promised.

"I'm putting Ashley back on," Annie said.

"Okay. I love you," I replied.

"I love you too," Annie said.

Ashley came back on the phone.

"I'll call again tomorrow," I said.

"You better," Ashley replied. "Now go finish your stupid movie."

"I miss you too," I said.

"I didn't say I missed you," Ashley replied.

"You didn't have to," I said.

There was a pause.

"I love you," Ashley said.

It wasn't a joke, and it wasn't a question. She said it fast, the way you say something you've been holding in your mouth for a while.

"I love you too," I replied.

Then she hung up before I could ask her anything else.

Blake had been one of the first people in the business to really look out for me. Now he was asking whether I'd been setting people up from the beginning.

I didn't understand why. But it hurt like hell.

I went back to my room and climbed into bed. The air conditioner under the window rattled like it had a rock in it. The second I turned off the light, everything I'd been outrunning since Friday caught up with me at once.

I rolled onto my side and tried to fall asleep. Instead, I started crying.

At first I tried to stop — wiped my face against the pillow and told myself to get it together. That only made it worse, so I gave up and let it happen.

I was eighteen years old. I had a purple stomach, a bodyguard on my little sister, and a district attorney for an uncle. I was making more money in a week than my father had made in a year, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

More than anything, I wanted somebody older than me to tell me what to do. To say: here's what happens next, here's what you say, here's how it ends. Somebody who had already been through it.

But there wasn't anybody. There was Blake, who was now asking whether I was a liability. There was Jerry, who was twenty-eight and sleeping alone in the same hotel for the same reasons. And there was Ashley, who had just told me she loved me and still wouldn't call herself my girlfriend.

Which, at midnight in Las Vegas, left me.

I fell asleep somewhere around two.

The next morning I was back on set pretending everything was okay. Fortunately, making a movie doesn't leave much room for anybody to notice when it isn't. There were scenes to block, lines to remember, marks to hit, and Freddy already determined to cram two days of shooting into one.

So I did what everyone expected me to do.

I became Benny again.

That was the thing about Benny. Benny didn't have an uncle. Benny didn't have a bodyguard on his sister. Benny had six girls in a fan club and one very good week.

Jerry couldn't stop being Jerry. He'd been Jerry for six years, and it was eating him alive. Me, I could put Benny on like a shirt.

I joked with the cast, listened to Freddy's directions, and went wherever the camera needed me. Whatever was waiting back home would still be waiting when the shooting stopped.

Until then, I had a movie to make.

I guess this is the perfect place to get back to In My Mouth.

The movie jumped ahead one month to the MVTV studios, where several hundred screaming fans had been packed in around a brightly lit stage until the heat coming off them was visible. Cameras on dollies, cables taped down, a PA with a fire extinguisher standing by the curtain because somebody in the front row had already fainted twice during rehearsal.

Mikki Valentine stood at the center of it in a silver bustier, a black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and thigh-high boots. Sweat had already started to run between her tits and into the boning of the bustier. She'd been singing for three minutes and she hadn't stopped moving once. Behind her, six dancers in torn black leotards worked through the same choreography they'd been drilling since noon, hands landing on hips and thighs a beat before the camera found them.

As the song reached its climax, Mikki strutted to the edge of the stage, leaned over the front row, and sang:

I've been a good girl, I've kept my legs shut all week,
But patience is a virtue, and mine's getting weak.
So put your hands on me and put your mouth where your money is —
Tonight I'm gonna show you what a good girl really is.

The crowd lost it. A guy in the front row reached up and got a hand on the back of her thigh, and Mikki let him keep it there for the rest of the verse before straightening up and working her way back toward the dancers, dragging her fingers across their shoulders, down their arms, and across their stomachs as she passed.

Then the beat dropped out.

Two weeks of waiting, two weeks of ache,
Two weeks of touching myself till I shake.
So don't be gentle, don't be kind —
Put that cock in me and lose your mind.

As she sang, she hooked a thumb under the hem of the leather miniskirt and pulled it up just far enough to show that the fishnets stopped short of anything. The front row screamed. Mikki looked down at her own crotch like she'd only just remembered it was there.

The drums came back in, and the six dancers closed around her, hands going everywhere the choreography allowed and a few places it didn't. One of them got a palm flat on Mikki's stomach and slid it up under the bustier. Mikki's mouth opened on the next line, and she didn't bother closing it.

You can tell me what you want,
You can tell me what you need,
You can tell me all your dirty little fantasies.
So pull your cock out when you're ready to blow —
Don't cum in my pussy when you can cum in my mouth.

Then came the bridge, and Mikki slowed everything down for it, which was somehow worse.

I know it's gonna stretch, I know it's gonna sting,
But I've been practising with everything.
So reach on down and tell me what you find —
And when you're done with my pussy, put it in my—

She reached between her own legs on what you find, two fingers, right through the fishnets, and held them up where the camera could see them. Three hundred people screamed the rest of the hook for her.

Don't cum in my pussy when you can cum in my mouth.

The chorus came back twice as loud as it had the first time, the whole room singing it now, and on every repeat Mikki pointed at her cunt on pussy and at her lips on mouth like she was teaching a class. By the last pass she was on her knees at the lip of the stage, arched back, thighs apart, dancers sinking down around her like they were praying. Fireworks went off behind her. Somebody in the third row threw a bra.

She held the note a half-second past the choreography just to watch them lose their minds again, then leaned into the mic for one last ad-lib.

"Don't waste another drop," she said.

Then she blew a kiss at the camera, then a second one at the front row, and stood up grinning like she'd gotten away with something.

Eta Pussy strutted onto the stage carrying a pink envelope.

"Give it up for Mikki Valentine and her brand-new number-one single, 'In My Mouth'!" Eta shouted.

Mikki stood, embraced Eta, and waved to the crowd like a politician.

"Congratulations on another number one single," Eta said.

"I couldn't have done it without my mouth," Mikki replied.

"Five months ago, Mikki and MVTV invited her fans to submit the hottest home video imaginable," Eta announced. "Thousands of you entered. And our screening committee watched every single submission."

We cut to Bonnie, the MVTV intern, sitting on the edge of the stage with her legs crossed and a vibrator buzzing in her hand. Her hair had given up. Her makeup had given up. She stared into the camera with the flat, hollow look of a woman who had watched four thousand people fuck and had opinions about all of them.

Mikki covered her mouth and laughed.

"After countless hours of careful study, repeated viewings, and several exhausted interns, we narrowed the competition down to three finalists," Eta continued. "Let's meet them."

Ricky walked onto the stage first, still playing Lance, the awkward nineteen-year-old virgin who had made love to a blow-up doll bearing Mikki's photograph.

"Our first finalist is Lance from Northridge," Eta announced. "He proved that imagination, determination, and access to an adult novelty store can take a young man surprisingly far."

The giant video screen behind Lance came to life with highlights from his submission. The audience laughed as they watched Lance proudly romancing his Mikki Valentine blow-up doll — the doll bouncing, the masking tape, the photograph peeling off its face and dangling from its ear.

We cut to several women in the audience politely applauding. One looked at the woman beside her and shrugged. Another gave Lance an encouraging thumbs-up. A third leaned toward her friend and said something that made them both cover their faces.

Lance waved nervously.

Kaylani came out next, and the temperature in the room changed.

She wore a shimmering gold dress that hugged every inch of her, cut low enough at the front to make the fabric look structural, and slit high enough on one thigh that the whole stage watched her walk. At five foot five, she was taller than Mikki, with dyed-blonde hair, hazel eyes, a narrow waist, and large enhanced breasts that strained the deeply cut front of the dress until it looked painted on. Under the studio lights the gold had gone almost liquid.

"Our second finalist is Kaylani from Honolulu," Eta announced. "Kaylani decided one man wasn't enough to impress Mikki, so she brought two. We appreciate the commitment."

The screen behind her switched to highlights from her submission.

We cut through the audience as men jumped to their feet, women cheered, and one guy in the second row stared at the screen with his mouth hanging open and his hand pressed flat against his own chest like he was checking his pulse.

Kaylani blew kisses toward the crowd, then turned and wrapped her arms around Mikki. When they separated, Mikki let her eyes drop and linger on Kaylani's cleavage for a beat too long to be accidental.

"You looked several times," Kaylani whispered.

"I needed to be certain," Mikki replied.

"Certain of what?" Kaylani asked.

"Whether you'd fit," Mikki replied.

Kaylani smiled.

"And?" she asked.

"Now I need to be thorough," Mikki replied.

Then Benny walked onto the stage.

The women in the audience started screaming before Eta could even introduce him.

"And our final contestant is Benny Bolton," Eta announced. "Benny received some assistance from six extremely dedicated members of the Mikki Valentine fan club."

The giant screen filled with highlights from Benny's contest video — six girls in bikinis, a waistband hooked and dragged down, and then the reveal, shot from below like the camera had fallen over.

We cut from the screen to women in the audience reacting. One covered her mouth. Another grabbed her friend's arm hard enough to leave a mark. A third stared at the screen, then looked at Benny, then looked back at the screen, trying to reconcile the two.

Then one of them looked down.

Her eyes widened.

The woman beside her followed her gaze and froze.

Within seconds, the reaction rippled back through the crowd as they realized the video hadn't exaggerated anything. A girl near the barrier actually stood up on the rail to get a better angle. Somebody said oh my god loud enough for the mic to catch it.

Benny glanced down at himself, realized what everyone was reacting to, and smiled.

The applause got even louder.

Eta turned to the camera and shrugged.

"For those of you at home wondering," Eta said, "yes. It's like that in person too."

We cut back to Benny's hometown, where the six members of the Mikki Valentine fan club were crowded around a television watching the broadcast. The second Benny appeared on-screen, they exploded off the couch, screaming and cheering.

"That's our Benny!" Karissa shouted.

Back at MVTV, Eta waited for the screaming to die down.

"After watching his submission, Mikki reportedly requested a larger suite, a stronger bed, and the following morning off," Eta continued.

Mikki looked Benny up and down, slowly, starting at his face and ending somewhere considerably lower.

"I like to be prepared," Mikki replied.

Eta brought all three finalists to the center of the stage. Kaylani took Mikki's hand. Benny took Kaylani's. Lance stood on the other side holding the hand of his Mikki Valentine blow-up doll.

Kaylani looked down when the doll's plastic hand bumped against hers.

"Is she a finalist too?" Kaylani asked.

"She's my emotional support girlfriend," Lance replied.

"That explains absolutely nothing," Kaylani said.

Eta stepped between the finalists and Mikki as the studio lights dimmed. The screaming finally began to die down.

"All right, Mikki," Eta said. "Three hopeful fans are standing before you, but only one can win a private date with the world's hottest pop star."

"Mikki! Mikki! Mikki!" the audience chanted.

Eta waited for them to quiet down.

"Who is the lucky winner?" Eta asked.

For the first time all night, Mikki wasn't smiling.

She looked at Lance.

Lance straightened.

She looked at Kaylani.

Kaylani squeezed Benny's hand.

Then Mikki looked at Benny.

We cut back to the fan club. All six women had gone completely silent. They were crowded around the television, staring at the screen.

Back at MVTV, Benny swallowed hard.

Mikki let the silence hang. She walked the line once, slow, the way a judge walks a runway. When she passed Kaylani, she let her fingers trail across Kaylani's wrist. When she passed Benny, she didn't touch him at all, which somehow felt worse.

"The winner is..." Mikki began.

She paused.

Lance leaned toward Eta.

"Did she forget to say my name?" Lance whispered.

"Not yet," Eta whispered back.

Mikki took a breath.

"Kaylani," Mikki announced.

The place came apart.

Kaylani screamed and threw her arms around Mikki. Mikki laughed as Kaylani nearly knocked her backward, and for a second they were just two women holding each other and grinning while three hundred people screamed.

Benny applauded and tried to smile, but the disappointment was obvious.

Lance looked down at the stage.

"Okay, now I think she forgot my name," Lance said.

Eta patted him on the shoulder.

We cut back to the fan club.

Nobody was cheering anymore.

Karissa dropped back onto the couch.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Karissa said.

Savannah shook her head.

"He was robbed," Savannah said.

Back onstage, Kaylani still had her arms around Mikki as Eta stepped forward to address the audience.

"And there you have it," Eta announced. "Kaylani from Honolulu is officially—"

"And Benny," Mikki interrupted.

Eta stopped.

For half a second, nobody reacted.

Benny stared at Mikki.

"What?" Benny asked.

Mikki smiled.

"And Benny," Mikki repeated.

Benny's mouth dropped open.

We cut back to the fan club as all six women came off the couch at once, screaming so loudly we could barely hear the television.

"I fucking knew it!" Karissa shouted.

Back onstage, Mikki reached for Benny and pulled him into the embrace she was already sharing with Kaylani. Kaylani's arm went around his waist. Mikki's hand slid up the back of his shirt, and then lower, and then settled somewhere below his belt with a familiarity that suggested the "larger suite" line hadn't been a joke.

Benny's eyebrows went up.

Mikki winked at the camera.

Eta stared at the three of them.

"Hold on," Eta said. "There's only supposed to be one winner."

"I changed the rules," Mikki replied.

"Can you do that?" Eta asked.

"I'm Mikki Valentine," Mikki replied. "I can do anything I want."

Lance raised his hand.

"Just checking," Lance said. "You definitely said Benny, right?"

"Yes," Eta replied.

"And Kaylani?" Lance asked.

"Yes," Eta replied.

"But not Lance?" Lance asked.

"No, Lance," Eta replied.

"Okay," Lance said. "I just wanted to make sure this wasn't an oversight."

The show ended with Mikki standing between Kaylani and Benny while confetti rained over the stage and three hundred people chanted her name. Kaylani said something into Mikki's ear that made her laugh. Benny stood there with his hands at his sides like a man who'd just been handed something he didn't know how to hold.

Eventually the lights went down. The audience filed out, still buzzing. The stage emptied.

Bonnie was still sitting at the edge of it.

Lance walked past carrying his Mikki Valentine blow-up doll.

Bonnie smiled at him, pointed between her legs, and crooked a finger.

Lance's eyes widened.

He eagerly walked toward her.

Bonnie reached past him, grabbed the doll, and shooed Lance away.

Lance stared at her for a moment before walking off alone.

Bonnie pulled the doll into her lap. She turned its head with both hands, examined the small painted O of its mouth, and smiled.

The next night a taxi pulled up to the entrance, and Benny and Kaylani climbed out.

Benny wore jeans, a crisp white button-down, and a sport coat that made him look considerably more sophisticated than the kid we'd met jerking off in front of a television in Tampa.

Kaylani had gone the other direction. Tight black dress, nothing underneath it but her, heels clicking against the pavement as she walked beside him.

The camera followed them through the doors and into Caesars Palace, which Freddy had chosen precisely because it looked like the kind of place Mikki Valentine would book for a private date. They moved past the columns, the marble, the statues, the fountains, the crush of the casino. Benny kept looking around, trying not to appear impressed, failing miserably.

Kaylani noticed.

"First time?" Kaylani asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Benny replied.

"You almost walked into a statue," Kaylani said.

"I thought he moved," Benny said.

Kaylani laughed.

They crossed the casino to a bank of elevators. The doors opened. They stepped inside, and the noise of the floor disappeared behind them.

Benny looked at the panel. His hand moved past floor after floor until his finger stopped at the very top.

PENTHOUSE.

He pressed it. The button lit.

Kaylani looked at Benny. Benny looked at Kaylani.

The doors slid shut.

They opened onto a private foyer. No hallway. No row of numbered doors.

Just one door.

"The whole floor?" Kaylani asked.

"I guess Mikki doesn't do adjoining rooms," Benny replied.

Kaylani laughed, practically bouncing. The confidence she'd had onstage was gone. Benny was having the opposite reaction. He straightened his coat, took a breath, and knocked.

Then Mikki's voice came through the door, low and unhurried.

"It's open," Mikki called.

Benny looked at Kaylani. Kaylani reached for the handle.

"Wait," Benny said.

"What?" Kaylani asked.

"I don't know. I just feel like we should have a plan," Benny replied.

"Our plan is on the other side of the door," Kaylani said.

She opened it.

The suite was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Strip. Champagne sat in a bucket beside a couch the size of a bed, flowers on the table, candles everywhere.

Benny and Kaylani barely registered any of it.

Mikki was stretched across the couch, completely naked, two fingers buried in herself. She looked like she'd been there all evening and had arranged the room specifically for what she intended to happen next.

Kaylani stopped in the doorway. Her eyes moved slowly down Mikki's body and then back up.

Benny just stared.

"Aren't you going to come in?" Mikki asked.

Benny glanced at the champagne, the flowers, the dinner laid out on the table, then back at the naked pop star on the couch.

"Do you still need to get dressed before we go out?" Benny asked.

Mikki laughed.

"The only thing I'm going to devour tonight is you two," she said.

Kaylani grinned. Benny forgot every clever thing he'd ever said.

Mikki enjoyed watching him struggle. Then her attention slid to Kaylani and stayed there. She took her time, starting at the heels and working her way up, and this time Kaylani didn't tease her for staring.

She wanted her to.

Kaylani turned her body slightly toward the couch, presenting herself, and Mikki's smile went from amused to hungry.

"Benny," Mikki said. "Undress her for me."

Kaylani turned. Benny hesitated for half a second, then stepped in and kissed her.

It started slow and got urgent fast. Kaylani wrapped her arms around him and pulled him flush, and behind them Mikki stayed on the couch, fingers working, watching every second. Kaylani kept breaking the kiss to glance over his shoulder at the couch. Mikki caught her every time.

Benny broke off and moved behind her. He found the zipper at the back of the dress and pulled it down.

Nothing underneath.

Kaylani never took her eyes off Mikki. Neither did Mikki. The dress loosened, and Benny eased it off her shoulders, working it down her arms an inch at a time, and Kaylani let her arms hang at her sides and made him do all of it. He slowed down further. She smiled, because she knew exactly what he was doing.

He wasn't undressing her anymore. He was putting on a show for the woman on the couch.

The dress hit the floor. Benny kicked it aside.

Mikki stopped moving. Her expression had gone somewhere serious, and her fingers had picked up speed.

Kaylani stood there naked and didn't cover anything.

Mikki's eyes went over her again. This time there was no dress in the way.

"You looked several times," Kaylani said.

"I needed to be certain," Mikki replied.

Kaylani laughed. Benny kissed her mouth, then her neck, then her collarbone, then down. When he got his mouth on her nipples, she moaned and pushed her chest into him, one hand fisted in his hair, and she still kept her eyes open, still kept finding Mikki across the room.

Mikki shifted forward on the couch.

"Don't rush," she said. "I want to watch," she added.

Benny smiled. Some of the nerves from the hallway were gone. He got his hand between Kaylani's legs and she spread them for him without looking away from Mikki.

He pushed two fingers into her, and she was soaked, and her moans got loud immediately. She grabbed his shoulders, breathing short and fast, grinding down onto his hand. Benny worked his mouth back up to hers and kept his fingers moving, and across the room Mikki matched her rhythm to Kaylani's breathing like she was reading it off a chart.

Mikki came first, or close enough that it didn't matter, arching back against the cushions with her thighs clamped shut around her own hand. Kaylani followed a second later, crying out into Benny's mouth and shaking against him.

For a few seconds neither woman moved.

Kaylani was still catching her breath when she looked over. Mikki was already staring at her. Whatever had started between them on the MVTV stage wasn't finished.

Mikki's eyes slid to Benny.

"Now him," she said.

Kaylani turned, grabbed two handfuls of Benny's ass, and kissed him hard. He grabbed hers and pulled her in. For a few seconds they forgot why they were there.

Mikki hadn't. She clapped her hands.

"Excuse me," she said.

Kaylani peeled off him and yanked the sport coat down his arms.

"Now undress him," Mikki said.

"Yes, ma'am," Kaylani replied.

She got the button-down in both fists and ripped. Buttons scattered — one across the floor, one rolling to a stop beside Mikki's bare foot. Mikki laughed. Benny looked down at the shredded remains hanging off his shoulders.

"Should I be worried?" Benny asked.

"Probably," Kaylani said.

She ran her hands over his chest, kissed him, bit his neck, then worked down to his nipples — kissing, licking, pinching. The pinch sent a bolt up his spine and his whole body jumped. Kaylani felt it and grinned against his skin. She did it again.

On the couch, Mikki was watching Benny's face more than Kaylani's mouth. She had them performing for her, every touch and every shiver, and it was clearly the control she liked more than the sex.

Then Kaylani went off-script.

She dropped to her knees, kissed the front of Benny's jeans, and got her teeth around his belt buckle. She worked the leather through the loop by loop, slowly, without using her hands, and let it drop from her mouth onto the floor.

Mikki stopped what she was doing to watch.

"That was impressive," Mikki said.

"I have many talents," Kaylani replied.

"I'm beginning to notice," Mikki said.

Kaylani unfastened his jeans and pulled them down.

His cock came out and hit her in the face.

Kaylani froze.

Mikki burst out laughing.

Kaylani recovered, reached up with both hands — and Mikki came off the couch.

"I never said you could touch it," Mikki said. "He's mine."

Kaylani pulled her hands back and looked up at her, startled. Mikki had spent the whole night arranging the two of them like furniture, and something had changed the second another woman's fingers got near Benny's cock.

Mikki stepped between them and stood over Kaylani.

Then Kaylani smiled and raised both hands.

"All yours," Kaylani said.

Mikki turned and dropped to her knees in front of Benny. She wasn't gentle. She swallowed him to the root on the third stroke like she'd been waiting a month, and the gag that came out of her was loud enough to be heard over the Strip. Benny grabbed the back of the couch for balance.

She looked up at him the whole time. She didn't stop looking up even while she was choking on it, and there was something competitive in it, like Kaylani's fingers had reminded her who was running the evening.

Kaylani sat back on the floor with her hand between her legs and watched. Then she moved closer. Mikki noticed and didn't stop.

Kaylani got up, knelt behind her, put both hands on the back of Mikki's head, and held it there while Mikki choked.

Mikki gagged harder. Benny waited for her to pull off. She didn't. She looked up at him again — to make it clear that Kaylani hadn't taken anything, she'd just been allowed to help.

When she finally came up for air, she looked at Kaylani and said, "Your turn."

Kaylani didn't need telling twice. She got Benny's cock between her tits, squeezed them around the shaft, and started working it. Every time the head pushed out the top she kissed it. Then she'd let it slide back down and wait, watching his face the whole time.

Mikki stayed on the floor a few feet away, close enough to see everything. The competition that had died for a minute came right back. Kaylani knew Mikki was watching. More than that, she knew Mikki was grading her.

So she stopped mid-titfuck, took him in her mouth instead, and went at it harder than Mikki had. She dragged her teeth along the shaft, slapped it against her tongue, tickled his balls. Benny nearly came on the spot.

And every time she got a reaction out of him, she glanced sideways at Mikki.

Benny looked down at the two of them, one on each side of him, both now practically shoulder to shoulder.

"I want to see who's better," Benny said.

Kaylani stopped. Mikki stared up at him.

"Excuse me?" Mikki said.

"You heard me," Benny replied.

Kaylani turned toward Mikki. Mikki's eyes narrowed.

Benny had spent the entire evening being a toy. Now he'd handed the two of them a reason to hate each other, and both of them clearly intended to win.

They took turns. The goal wasn't to make him come, it was to get him so worked up he'd beg to fuck them — and along the way, to prove something. Kaylani started copying Mikki's moves, then adding to them. When Mikki tickled his balls, Kaylani did it too, better. When Mikki deep-throated him, Kaylani held it longer.

"You're copying me," Mikki said.

"I'm improving on your technique," Kaylani replied.

"That's a pretty bold claim," Mikki said.

"Then prove me wrong," Kaylani replied.

Mikki glanced across Benny's hips at her.

"Think we can make him beg?" Mikki asked.

"I think we can make him beg twice," Kaylani said.

"You're both awfully confident," Benny said.

"You're awfully talkative," Mikki replied.

They both turned and took him at once — one working the shaft, one on his balls, four hands and two mouths on him until Benny couldn't track who was doing what. He tried to get them to slow down. They ignored him on purpose.

Then they wrapped all four hands around him together and stroked him until precum beaded at the tip. Mikki knocked Kaylani's hand off and caught it on her tongue.

She went back to deep-throating him, no gag reflex at all, and Benny grabbed the back of her head and face-fucked her until she tapped his thigh. Kaylani laughed and took her place before Mikki had finished wiping her mouth.

Then Mikki did something Kaylani wasn't expecting.

She slid down and got underneath her.

Kaylani was kneeling with Benny's cock in her mouth, and Mikki lay on her back between Kaylani's legs and put her tongue in her cunt.

Kaylani's face came apart. Her shoulders locked, her back arched, and she squeezed her eyes shut, and she kept gagging on Benny the whole time, which made it worse. Mikki licked from her cunt up to her asshole and back, over and over, until Kaylani's clit was swollen and Mikki owned it.

Kaylani started bouncing on her tongue. Benny felt her getting close through her mouth. He pulled out and slapped his cock against her cheek, and she whined, and he put it back. She begged him for it.

She came all over Mikki's face.

Her thighs shook, her moans went up an octave, and the second her mouth opened wide, Benny shoved himself back in and made her choke on it. He was right on the edge. He held her head still and fucked her throat until he came, and then he pulled out and let the rest drip out of her mouth onto her chin.

Mikki had to push Kaylani's hips off her face to breathe.

She slid out from under her, wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, and looked up at Benny.

Then her face changed.

"I thought you were man enough to last longer," Mikki said.

Benny laughed. Mikki got to her feet and stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring, genuinely annoyed that the evening was over.

Benny stepped around Kaylani, got one arm behind Mikki's back and the other under her knees, and lifted her off the floor.

She gasped, then wrapped her arms around his neck, watching his face the whole way as he carried her across the room toward the bed.

He dropped her onto it. She bounced, caught herself on her elbows, and looked up.

"Get on all fours," Benny said.

Mikki raised an eyebrow.

"Somebody's feeling confident," Mikki said.

She rolled onto her stomach and pushed up onto her hands and knees anyway.

Benny climbed on behind her and put his cock against her.

He thought it would slide in. It didn't. He had to push, and push, and she was tighter than anything he'd read about her in a magazine.

The head spread her open, and she came almost immediately.

"I'm serious, Benny. Slow down," Mikki said.

He stopped. Neither of them moved for a moment. She dropped her head, took a few breaths, and shifted her knees wider on the mattress.

He waited. Then she looked back at him.

"Okay," she said. "Give me a second."

He brushed her hair off her shoulder.

"Still feeling confident?" Mikki asked.

"Not nearly as much as I was thirty seconds ago," Benny replied.

She laughed.

"Good. Maybe you'll learn something," she said.

She nodded, and he pushed in the rest of the way, and she came again — a startled cry into the mattress, arms buckling, fingers clawing the sheets. She stayed down on her elbows for several seconds with her face buried.

When she finally lifted her head, her hair was wrecked, and her cheeks were red, and she looked genuinely surprised.

"Jesus Christ, Benny," Mikki managed.

He got both hands on her hips and settled into a rhythm. She looked back over her shoulder at him, one eye behind a curtain of hair, a sheen of sweat along her neck.

The room got warmer. Sweat ran down the side of Benny's face. Mikki's hair stopped being hair.

And she started making noise, except it wasn't noise — it had pitch to it. Little gasps that went up and came back down. She'd been singing for a living since she was fifteen, and her body apparently hadn't gotten the memo.

Benny caught it and laughed.

"Are you seriously singing?" Benny asked.

"It's called talent," Mikki said. "You should try getting some."

"I have talent," Benny said, and sped up.

Neither of them noticed Kaylani approach the bed.

Being left by the couch didn't mean she was finished. She walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, fingers already in herself.

"Fuck her," Kaylani said.

Mikki's eyes opened.

"Fuck her," Kaylani said again. "Fuck her harder," she added.

Benny did. Mikki's moans got loud enough to cover Kaylani's, and then Kaylani's caught up, and the two of them went at it together like a duet with no arrangement. It drove him crazy.

He found Kaylani's eyes over Mikki's shoulder. Kaylani smiled and mouthed it.

"Fuck me," Kaylani said.

Mikki looked back at him.

"I guess I have to share you," Mikki said.

Benny laughed and pulled out of her.

"That's very generous of you," Benny replied.

"Don't get used to it," Mikki warned.

Mikki rolled off her knees onto her side, then onto her back, pushing her hair out of her face. Benny shifted back to give her room.

Kaylani was already moving. She got Benny's cock in her mouth like she was trying to swallow it whole, and Mikki lay on her back beside them with her hand between her legs and watched.

"Jesus, Kaylani," Mikki said, laughing. "You really don't waste any time."

Kaylani came up long enough to answer.

"I've been patient," Kaylani replied.

"You've been here for about five minutes," Mikki pointed out.

"Longest five minutes of my life," Kaylani answered.

Kaylani pushed Benny onto his back and climbed on before he'd finished settling.

Unlike Mikki, she had no trepidation about the size of it. She got a hand around the base of his cock, lined herself up, and sat down in one long, unhurried drop — and her pussy took every inch without flinching, opening around him until her hips were flat against his and he could feel her pulse fluttering the whole length of him. She let out a breath that turned into a moan halfway through, braced both hands on his chest, and started to ride.

She was soaked and loud and she moved like she'd been waiting all night for it. Her tits swung heavy in his face, her knees clamped his ribs, and every time she came down she ground herself against the base of him before lifting again. Benny got two handfuls of her ass and pulled her tighter, then sat up underneath her and took one nipple in his mouth. That was all it took — her whole body locked, her nails dug into his shoulders, and she came with a wet, broken cry she didn't bother swallowing, clenching around him so hard he had to grip the sheets to keep from following her over. He sucked the other one, and she came again, smaller, shaking through it with her forehead pressed to his.

A few minutes later Benny lay back down, and she came with him, still straddling him, still full of him, working slow little circles while she caught her breath. Then she leaned down, planted her forearms either side of his head, and kissed him — soft and unhurried, with her hair hanging down around both their faces and her hips never quite stopping.

Kaylani's mouth came off his, and Mikki was already moving. She swung a leg over Benny's head and settled facing away from him, knees planted either side of his shoulders, and Kaylani shifted up to straddle his chest so the two of them ended up face to face over his ribcage. Then Mikki lowered herself onto his mouth — slow, deliberate, all the way down — and Benny got one long look up the length of her back before his whole view disappeared behind her. He dragged his tongue through her. She was already soaked, already swollen, and she tasted like she'd spent the last twenty minutes watching.

She answered him immediately. Her hips rolled forward and smeared her cunt across his face until his nose was buried in her, and he had to steal breaths through his mouth in the gaps between licks. Above him, Mikki reached back and pulled Kaylani in by the back of the neck. Their mouths met somewhere over his stomach and stayed there — open, wet, unhurried — and Benny felt the mattress shift every time one of them moved, which meant he could track what they were doing even though he couldn't see a thing. He could only hear it. He could only taste it.

Mikki got loud. She broke off the kiss with Kaylani and sat up straight, both hands fisted in Benny's hair, grinding down hard enough to press his head into the cushion and leave his chin slick to the jaw. Kaylani put her mouth on Mikki's tits and Mikki's thighs clamped either side of his ears and squeezed. "Don't you dare stop," Mikki said. Benny flattened his tongue and let her use it. She came with a long, high, broken noise, hips stuttering, and held him there through every second of it — and Benny stayed under her, tongue still working, until she finally lifted off and the cold air hit his face.

It was Mikki's turn again, and she didn't want the bed. She pointed at the wall. Benny got an arm under her ass and lifted her straight off the mattress — lighter than he expected — and carried her across the room until her back hit the plaster. She locked her ankles behind him and her arms around his neck, and Benny got both hands under her thighs, spread her, and pushed up into her while she was still moving.

He fucked her standing. Every thrust pinned her higher up the wall, and she had to shove herself back down onto him just to keep him inside, and for the first time all night she wasn't running anything. Her nails scraped at his shoulders. Her hair was stuck in her mouth. She was making that pitched noise again — the singing noise — except louder now, with the melody gone out of it entirely. "Don't you dare drop me," Mikki said. Benny tightened his grip and kept going.

Kaylani watched from the bed for maybe ten seconds. Then she crossed the room, dropped to her knees behind him, and ducked her head under his hips. She had to time it around his thrusts — up between his legs on the pull, mouth open, tongue dragging the underside of his balls — and one of her hands went between her own thighs while the other gripped the back of his calf. Mikki was wet enough that it ran down onto Kaylani's face, and Kaylani licked that too.

His thoughts were getting harder to organize: his arms were burning and his lower back had already started to go, and the strain was the only thing keeping him from finishing. He was grateful for it. Kaylani's tongue caught him at the bottom of every stroke, and Mikki's thighs were shaking on either side of his ribs, and she was pulling his hair with one hand like she needed something to hold. Then she came, clamping down around him, heels digging into his ass, mouth open against his ear. Benny thought the whole thing was hot. He just wished he could still feel his arms.

They all came back to the bed.

Kaylani went down on her back and had her legs open before she'd finished settling, knees wide, one hand already between them. Mikki dropped onto her stomach beside her with her chin propped on her fist, close enough to Kaylani's hip that she was watching from a few inches away. She licked her lips and didn't bother pretending she was waiting for anything else.

Benny climbed on and pushed into Kaylani in one stroke.

She was still wet and sensitive, and she made a thin, surprised noise when he bottomed out. Mikki watched his cock disappear into her, and then looked up at Kaylani's face, which was the part she was actually watching — her mouth, her eyes, the way her hands kept grabbing at Benny's forearms. Benny fucked her slow and deep, because Mikki hadn't told him not to.

Then he pulled out.

Kaylani's complaint died in her throat, because Mikki had already lifted her head off her fist, gotten her mouth around him, and taken him all the way down, fast and wet, tasting Kaylani off every inch of him. She came up with her lips shiny and went straight back to watching.

"Again," Kaylani said.

So he did it again. And again. Every couple of minutes he'd pull out of her and Mikki would take him, and by the fourth time Kaylani was reaching over to hold Mikki's hair out of the way so she could see properly.

Mikki changed it up after that. She got a hand under Kaylani's knee and pushed it back toward her chest, opening her wider, then put her mouth down on Kaylani's cunt while Benny fucked her — tongue flat on her clit, nose buried, staying there through every thrust. Kaylani came twice inside ninety seconds. The second one folded her in half.

Benny rolled her onto her side, got behind her, and fucked her that way with her top leg lifted, and Mikki lay on her back on the other side of her and kissed her upside down while it happened. Kaylani kept breaking the kiss to moan into Mikki's mouth, which Mikki seemed to like more than the kiss itself.

Then Kaylani wanted to be on top. She climbed up, straddled Benny facing Mikki, and rode him, and Mikki sat up and got her mouth on Kaylani's tits while she worked. Benny reached around underneath and got his thumb in Kaylani's ass, and Kaylani stopped riding altogether for a second and just sat there with her mouth open.

"Where's the lube?" Benny asked.

Mikki reached over to the nightstand without looking and handed it back to him.

He pulled his thumb out, slicked two fingers, and worked them into Kaylani while she rode him, slow at first, then both of them to the knuckle, until she was pushing back onto his hand on every stroke and telling him to hurry up. When he finally lined up and pushed in, she went completely quiet for three seconds and then made a sound that wasn't a word.

He fucked her ass with her on all fours at the edge of the mattress and Mikki underneath them both, on her back with her head between Kaylani's knees, licking whatever she could reach — Kaylani's clit, then down and back, then up the underside of Benny's cock when he pulled out far enough. Benny had to keep stopping to breathe.

And then he noticed Mikki was humming.

He was about to say something about it when the pressure in his gut told him he'd run out of time.

He pulled out of Kaylani and got a hand around himself. Kaylani turned and dropped to her knees in front of him, and Mikki slid out from underneath and knelt beside her, and both of them opened their mouths and waited. Benny stroked twice and came — the first shot across Kaylani's tongue, the second into Mikki's, then a third and a fourth split between them while they stayed exactly where they were and didn't spill a drop.

Neither of them swallowed right away.

Mikki turned Kaylani's chin with two fingers, leaned in, and kissed her. Open, slow, deliberate, passing what was left back and forth between them until it was gone. Then Mikki pulled back and licked her own lip.

Benny stood there with his hand still on his cock, watching two women kiss with his come in both their mouths, and understood that he was never going to top this.

Mikki climbed back onto the bed, got on all fours, and reached back with one hand to pull her own cheek apart. She pointed at her asshole with the other.

"Benny," Mikki said. "You've just inspired my next single."

Kaylani laughed.

"What's it called?" Benny asked.

Mikki looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

"In My Ass," Mikki said.

Everyone laughed as the credits started to roll.