Ok, so I’ll answer the most obvious and frequently asked question: How does a married 32 year old Ivy League educated heiress from an old Main Line Philadelphia family become a porn actress? There is no short answer, even though I have attempted them in countless interviews during my 10-year career. This is simply the first installment of the long answer, the story of how I wended my way along the path to a decade in adult videos.

Two months after moving to an upscale suburban neighborhood my husband and I were at our first neighborhood cocktail party. On the pretense of a casual tour of his home the male half of the host couple cornered me into the laundry room. He was a little drunk. I was a little drunk too, but shaken and uncomfortable. He’s a big guy, the neighbor across the street one door down. I’ve noticed him a few times before that night, athletic and solid, if a little thick in the shoulders and chest: bulky but handsome. He closed the door and blocked my way to it.

“You like to tease, don’t you Jane?” he said to me, less of a question than an accusation. My derrière backed against the washing machine behind me.

“I…I don’t…” My anxiety choked my breath.

“Don’t fuckin’ deny it,” he continued, “ you on that little riding mower of yours wearing that tiny green bikini with your big tits bouncing up and down.”

“Just trying to get some sun,” I responded, knowing I was guilty. He moved closer, bringing his muscled thigh in between mine as the mass of his body moved against me. The solidness of him was itself threatening. I begin to wonder if I should scream.

“You know that bikini matches your mower, don’t you?” he said in a way I found funny enough to make me giggle, at least inside.

“It does?” Of course, I knew it did. Perfectly. I didn’t scream. I didn’t want to. My heart was racing. I’ve seen him watching me. I enjoyed the attention. He was a handsome hunk. With the aggressive attention in the laundry room my body stirred and my pussy began getting wet. I thought of my husband out there in the party, briefly. Mr. Science Professor, holding court, oblivious to my plight.

“Yeah and do you have any idea what that hot little body of yours in that hot little bikini on that matching green lawn mower does to me?” he said, his breath searing my neck.

“Well, I don’t mean to…” I was being pressed hard against the washer. I pushed forward to create a little space and in that instant hoisted myself up to sit on the machine while trying to appear casual. He wrapped one hand around the small of my back and pulled me toward him and back to my feet. He pushed his other hand with spread fingers up along the back of my neck into my hair and made a fist that pulled my hair. I winced.

“Shit you don’t, you hot little cunt, you torture me and you know it!” he quietly snarled.

“Really, no…” He stopped my protest by mashing his lips to mine, forcing my mouth open with the sheer force of pressure. With my forearms positioned defensively against his chest, I pushed against his powerful frame in vain. The muscles of his chest seemed supernaturally firm. His tongue invaded me, and my tongue with a will all it’s own, responded. I was won that easily. I pushed my arms up around his neck and kissed him back as ferociously as he kissed me. Within the minute of closing the laundry room door I felt greater heat and passion than I have for years with my husband. I love my husband, he is bright and funny and though we have a strong marriage and enjoy our sex this hulking man with his brute power was reaching right into my soul. With my arms wrapping tightly I pulled myself up into him.

Knowing I was no longer a flight risk he brought his hand from my back around front to maul my breast. At that I could feel my pussy flood with desire. Instinctively I brought my legs up around his waist forcing my short cocktail dress up to my hips. I felt his bulge against my bottom. I tried to grind against it.

He parked my ass back down onto the washing machine. The metal top felt cold against my exposed skin. He brought his hand between my legs and pushed his thick fingers around my thong into me, first one then another. Oh god! I thought or said, I couldn’t tell. I was on fire and yet ashamed he could feel my wet desire.

With his hand still in my hair he pulled my head back and to the side forcing me to turn sideways on the machine. My one leg was still around him. The other was pushed to splay open across the dryer as he worked me with his fingers forcing me beyond control within seconds to an explosive orgasm. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an unrestrained orgasm but I wasn’t much good at hiding it. I ended with short quick breaths as if I was in some kind of Lamaze class.

“That’s enough for you unless you can suck me off.” He hissed into my ear when I was done. He licked his sticky fingers then pushed them into my mouth so I would taste myself. Then he pulled the straps of my dress down to expose my breasts.

I reached for the bulge in his pants I had felt briefly a moment before. “You’re a good little slut aren’t you, you teasing bitch.” He hissed again with a laugh. He slapped one of my tits and squeezed the nipple until it hurt. I winced then smiled then bared my teeth and snapped at him playfully.

He pulled me off the machine by my hair and I was on my knees in front of him. I was feral, feverishly working at the belt and button, gnawing through his trousers at the thick roll of his firm cock. When I was finally able to peel his trousers and boxers down, I was stunned at his still growing cock and before I could catch myself uttered something, “shit” or “Christ” or something, I can’t remember.

“Yeah that’s right you little cock tease, that’s what you do to me, you hot little bitch. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it makes me to have that thing expand inside my jeans when I’m trying to get work done in my yard with you bouncing around on your mower?”

I couldn’t answer him because I had just worked my mouth over the head of his cock. His hand, still in my hair, was pushing me onto it. I opened my mouth wide and just let him shove it into my mouth. “That’s a good little cock sucking slut,” he commended. My lips encircled his cock as he pushed the head of it against the back of my throat until I gagged. Even then he didn’t let me back off. Fuck! I thought to myself. Why do guys do that?

I tried pushing myself away with my hands against his thighs but he was too strong. The bulging head of his cock was firmly against my throat and I gagged against it and almost panicked at the thought I was going to choke before he finally pulled my head back by my hair.

The width and length were astonishing. I gasped for air and hacked a tiny bit of phlegm. Then he pushed my head forward and forced his cock against my throat again. He wiggled my head against the end of the hard shaft with both hands while applying painful pressure. He was trying to force his monster down my throat! I panicked again and began gagging again while fighting him off with all my strength. It wasn’t enough. I was at his mercy until finally he pulled my head back by my hair as I sputtered and gasped and coughed up more phlegm. I was getting angry and loving it all at the same time.

I wrapped both hands around his shaft just as he forced it into my mouth again. This time I had a little more control but when he pushed my lips tight up against my hands his cock head still pushed back against my throat. I was trying to bob my head back to get relief but I found myself gagging once again. When he next pulled my sputtering mouth from his cock I thought it would be better if I took the lead. I hungrily licked his balls, pulling one into my mouth while stroking his shaft with both hands.

“Yeah girl, that’s it girl, you go, you hot little tramp,” he encouraged me.

I put one hand between his legs and pulled him closer while still licking him and stroking the top length of his cock as the mass of it lay on my face. I’ll show this oversized fucker that I can handle him. I thought to myself. Taking my hand from beneath his legs I reached down and pushed my fingers into my sopping pussy. Then while I wiggled my face against the underside of his cock I looked up at him and watched his expression as I jammed my wetted middle finger into his asshole as hard as I could. I could see the effect on his face and feel the shaft of his giant cock leap in my gripping hand. I pinched my thumb up into the soft space behind his ball sack to force my finger in even deeper.

I drew the head of his cock into my mouth on my own this time and worked it with my tongue like a wolverine. The whole time I stroked the shaft furiously with a firm grip. With my other hand pinching my finger further and further up his anus I had more control now. In a moment I could feel his balls tighten.

“God damn, you got me you little slut,” he began in a strained voice, which grew even more strained. “Swallow every last drop. Fuck. Swallow it all…auwggh” A huge gush of come blasted into my mouth, I was able to sort of chug it down over the back of my tongue when the second one shot in just as big and powerfully. My throat closed in reaction, and my mouth filled with additional spurts of come. The guy by then had his hand pumping his own cock, squeezing every last bit into my mouth.

When he was done he pulled my head back by my hair and commanded me to open my mouth and show him his sperm. He looked down at me while I squeezed the cream forward until some overflowed my open mouth and ran down my cheek. Then, still holding my hair he arched his back and tilted his face toward the ceiling. In that moment I swallowed it down in two gulps and had my empty mouth open for him when he looked down again. He flashed a self-satisfied smile.

Perhaps I should say nearly empty, as there was still a good amount of come in the corners of my mouth and under my tongue. This I collected forward on my tongue as I stood up. I again threw my arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. I surprised him by injecting my hidden remainder into his mouth.

He pulled back, grabbed the front of my neck with one hand, my hair still with the other and held my face inches from his. I was expecting him to spit the gob into my face. Instead, another smile crossed his lips followed by a comically exaggerated gulp as he swallowed the large pearl of his own sperm.

He then grew surprisingly gentle and caring. He kissed me gently and massaged my exposed breasts a little before saying, “Those are some beauties you have there, Jane, nice to know they’re real, but you better pull up your dress and rejoin the party. I’ll let you slide out first.”

When ready, I opened the door a crack and saw the short hallway was empty. “It’s clear,” I said. He suggested we loiter in the hallway until someone discovered us talking. He assumed a casual position slumped on a shoulder against the wall. I leaned back against the opposite one. “How did you know I wouldn’t scream?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” he said. “The thought that you might added to my excitement. So why didn’t you scream for help?”

“Didn’t think I would need any,” I said with a smile.

“I guess you were right,” he said, before pushing on again in his aggressive manner obviously trying to shock me by asking, “Have you ever had gangbang fantasies, Jane?”

I smiled before responding. “Why, do you think you’d need help?” I involuntarily let out a little girl giggle.

“I like you,” he said, “I do like you. Seriously though…”

"Yeah, I can confess to that as I am sure most women can,” I admitted.

“What, two, maybe three guys?” he pushed on.

“I’ve only ever actually been with one guy at a time, even in my wilder college days, but I had dreams of being with more. In one of my dreams I was the center of attention for countless men.”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he said confidently smiling broadly.

“I don’t think so,” I said, even though I did think so, eventually.

“After I do, maybe I’ll invite friends to help me fuck you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said, knowing I could never let myself go that far.

“Why not, you don’t want to cuckhold your husband?” he said. I tried to remain calm leaning my back against the wall, but the conversation was making my pussy tingle and moist again. “Lots of men like to watch their wives get fucked by other men,” he continued. “What if your husband wanted to see you fucked by other men?”

I grew uncomfortable and stood straight. George and I had conversations about our fantasies. I told him mine about a group of men and he said he might enjoy watching me be taken to “unrestrained heights of pleasure by other men.” But that’s all it was, titillating bedroom talk between us. I wasn’t about to share any of that with James.

Just then George suddenly appeared from around the corner with a glass of wine in each hand. “There you are!” he said, handing me a glass of wine. “I’ve been looking all over for you, you naughty girl.

“Quite a long talk with James, darling,” I said, “ and it’s a good thing you found me. I do believe he’s trying to sweet talk me George.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit,” he said to me. To James he said, “And I wouldn’t blame you for trying, but it seems you were able to have Jane all to yourself so far this evening. Let’s rejoin the party.”

If only he knew.