Hi, I'm Ryan Dunmor. You probably don't know me by name, and you probably wouldn't recognize me if you saw me, but if you've been watching porn on all those free-tube sites in the last five or six years, I'm willing to bet you've heard me. I'm a dubber - a voice actor who specializes in foreign films. I work for a company called Omnivox Entertainment. "Company" is probably flattering ourselves too much. It's more like a five-man operation (and at least two of those men are actually women).

It started with just three of us, me, Kent, and Rad. We were roommates at Clinton State University. Rad (short for Radovan) was a foreign student from Luminia, an obscure little 3rd world country in Eastern Europe that no one gave a shit about. One summer, Rad went home to visit his family. When he came back, he brought a box full of low-budget Luminian porn with him. His uncle was connected in some way to the industry over there.

So, we did what any three twenty-year-old college guys would do: We got high as fuck and watched it. Of course, the only one who understood anything that was being said was Rad. I don't speak fucking Luminian, and neither did Kent. I don't remember who started it - I think maybe it was me - but we began doing our own voice-overs for the actors. Soon, even Rad was joining, and we were all laughing our asses off. It became our regular thing on the weekends.

Okay, now fast-forward a few years. We all graduated, and suddenly had to figure out what the fuck to do with our lives. Used to be a college degree was a job guarantee, but now it's just guaranteed debt and 'we wish you luck with that.' This was around 2008 when the economy had totally gone to shit. But in spite of it all, we were optimistic - or stupid - well, probably just young.

"Hey, Ryan?" Kent asked. His voice was always quiet and kind of high pitched, almost effeminate. He always played the women when we did the voice-overs

"Yeah?"

"Man, I just got this idea." He brushed his hair out of his blonde hair out of his eyes. It was a kind of Andy Warhol look. It didn't do much for me, but the chicks seemed to really go for it, so I couldn't criticize him too much.

"Yeah?" I said when he didn't continue his thought.

"Yeah, what?" He asked. We were fucking baked.

"You said you had an idea."

"Oh yeah!" He shouted excitedly. "Listen, you know how we're always doing voices for Rad's porn?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I mean, like, we've been doing it for awhile, you know. And I don't know, like, if we're still into it, I mean... wouldn't other people be into it, too?"

"I don't know, man," I said, laughing at how stoned Kent was. "I guess so."

"So, like what if we could sell it?"

"Rad's porn?"

"Yeah... I mean, but, like with our voices on it, and stuff."

"You want to sell Rad's porn? Wouldn't he be pissed?"

"No, man," Kent said shaking his head, "Fuck. You don't get it. I don't mean his DVDs. I mean, we make our own DVDs from his stuff, and put our voices on it."

"Ahh," I said, finally grasping on. "Like those old fucking Kung-Fu movies and shit, where their mouths and voices are all screwed up." I continued moving my jaw for a few seconds imitating a bad dub job.

"Yeah," Kent said, laughing, "Like that."

"You think people want to watch Kung-Fu porn?" I asked, feeding off Kent's laughter.

"Why not? People watch all kinds of fucked up shit. Besides, we've been watching it for like a couple of years now."

"I guess you've got a point there."

"Listen, I was reading this article..." Despite how he might sound here, Kent was actually the smartest one of our group. He was constantly reading things. "And it was saying that porn was like a bigger industry than major league sports, and this huge part of the economy in California and shit, right?"

"If you say so, man."

"Alright, so like, there's all these companies making porn in California. I don't know anything about making porn, and I don't have any connections there. Do you?"

I laughed and sarcastically answered, "Yeah, I'm a broke-ass sales clerk by day and porn king of California by night."

"Okay, so we haven't got connections in California, but we do have a connection in Luminia."

"Rad?"

"Yeah, man," Kent shouted, "haven't you been fucking listening? Rad's uncle is connected to the business. He gets us the videos cheap from over there, and then we do the voices in English on them so people can understand what the fuck is happening, and we sell them here."

Later, we talked to Rad about it. He didn't seem too convinced (and he was pissed that we'd smoked without him), but we wore him down eventually, and he agreed to talk to his uncle for us. This resulted in an argument over the phone that we didn't comprehend because it was in Luminian.

"He said no," Rad sulked after hanging up the phone.

"No?" Kent asked, "But why?"

"Just said no," Rad shook his head sorrowfully.

"Well, what did you say to him?" Kent asked.

"I said you wanted him to send more DVDs so we could sell them."

"Shit! Rad! Why did you tell him that?"

"It's what you said!"

"Jesus fucking Christ. Of course he'd say no. I mean that's basically asking him if we can steal from him."

"Isn't that what you said?" Rad asked, looking confused.

"No... Listen... no, you know what, next time you go home, I'm going with you. I'll fucking talk to them myself. This is a fucking gold mine idea. I can't let you fuck it up."

Three months later, Rad and Kent took off for Luminia. They were there for two weeks. When Kent returned (without Rad who stayed behind to look after his sick father), they had managed to broker a distribution deal with Kosenkova films. They'd granted us rights to five of their movies as a trial. In return, they took a 35% cut of our sales.

They'd initially wanted 60%, but Kent had argued that we could break into a very lucrative market, selling our movies for ten times the rate charged in Luminia, and without us, they'd get nothing. It sounded like bullshit to me, but I guess they admired the balls he had.

Our first priority was hiring some talent. I was okay for doing the male voices, but if we were going to be professional, we needed an actual woman to play the female roles. We put up an advertisement in Craig's List and were surprised at the number of responses we got from Drama students at the university. We spent way too much time auditioning them, and finally ended up settling on a girl named Denise Linsdale - Yeah, I know. You've never heard of her either. Give me a fucking break, okay? She had a great voice.

So, this is how it went: Denise and I would watch a scene once through and take notes about what we thought was going on. Then we'd compare our notes and agree on some kind of story that may loosely match what was happening on the screen. Really, we only needed to fill about two to three minutes with improvised dialogue. The rest was just 'ooh, ahh, you like that baby?, fuck me harder, oh yes, that feels good' etc. We'd record everything on a computer, which would remove the original dialogue from the movie, and synch up our own dialogue. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

The results were pretty amateur-hour, though, to be frank. Quality was clearly not our top priority. Yet, at the end of it, we had a porn video with a semi-comprehensible story line, and most importantly, people fucking in English for American audiences. Kent decided that we should have a website, and focus on digital content instead of manufacturing DVDs in order to cut costs. So he hired a web-developer named Spyder2112. I'm pretty sure that's not the guy's real name, but I never met him in person. Kent dealt with him purely online.

Kent summarized our business model over beers the first month we turned a profit: "It's shit. We know it's shit, and our customers know it's shit. But it's cheap shit. We can afford to sell it cheap, because we get it for next to nothing. Look, man, no one expects to win a fucking academy award here. We just give the people cheap imported shit at rock bottom prices. We're like the fucking Dollar Store of porn."

Our business grew pretty quickly, and Kent kept our overhead to a bare minimum, so whatever we did make was almost entirely profit. We hired a woman by the name of Kim to manage our books. We sent about 35% back to Kosenkova films (well, after Kim and Spyder2112 massaged the figures - it was more like 25%... maybe 20%). Despite our skimming, they were still impressed with how well we were doing. They sent us more movies - better ones, too.

Rad scouted for other companies to work with. Kent would fly out, close the deal, and bring back more Eastern European porn. At our peak, Denise and I were dubbing maybe two or three films a day from all kinds of different places I couldn't find on a fucking map.

You might think watching porn all day long is a fucking dream job, but it gets old after awhile. Pretty soon every day was just another fucking day at the office. Kent could have hired more voice actors, but that would have cut into our profits.

"Last thing we need at this point is another fucking mouth to feed," he said when Denise brought the subject up.

After that, she worked for another week and then quit. She wanted to do something more fulfilling and meaningful with her life, she said. She moved to Minnesota to be near her family, and started working as a dispatcher for a taxi cab company.

Once again, we appealed to the Craig's List community for a replacement. This time the response was even bigger than last time. Kent decided to handle the hiring decision by himself, though. He only interviewed four girls, before he found one that was relatively satisfactory to him.

"This is Erin," Kent introduced us. "She's taking over for Denise. Show her, you know, how we do things."

"Hi," said Erin. She also had a good voice. Not quite as sexy as Denise, but still pretty good.

I shook Erin's hand, and Kent went back to his office. She was another drama student from the university. I wouldn't guess she was more than twenty-one. Maybe younger. She was plain looking - neither hot, nor ugly. She was short and small breasted, small assed. She had blonde hair that hung around her oval face without lending it much character. Her mouth was a touch too big, and she smiled a lot with it.

Look, let's get this straight. I'm no super-stud either. I was twenty-seven. My brown hair was just starting to thin out, and I had the beginnings of a pot-belly from too much beer and junk food, and too little exercise. So, glass houses, and all that - Neither of us should really be chucking rocks around in the looks department.

If I sound judgmental, it's probably because I spent all my time looking at all these toned naked beauties and muscular beef-cakes. They're all close ups and collections of body parts that put normal people to shame - large bouncing tits, washboard abs, voluptuous ass, long slender legs, gigantic cock, smooth soft labia, perfectly asterisked asshole. When this is your life day-in, day-out, you know, it's hard not to feel disappointed by the real world with all its natural flaws.

Erin had a bubbly personality that seemed really excited just to be there! I instantly found her annoying. I mean, maybe five or six years ago she might have seemed like a really fun girl, but now she just made me miss Denise. Denise was all business and efficiency. I mean she and I could joke around, but there was none of this wide-eyed innocence about her. That shit might seem charming, but it grates after awhile.

"You know what's so interesting about porn," Erin was saying, "is these actors are like surrogates for other people's fantasies. Like, they do all the things we can't do in real life - you know like cheating on their husbands and wives with the baby sitter in a public change room and stuff. I mean, if you or I did that, we'd be like really shitty human beings, right? So we pay them to do it for us, and live vicariously-"

"Yeah, that's great," I interrupted her. "So, this is what we do here. Basically, we take foreign movies, and dub them into English."

"Yeah, I know," Erin said. "Kent explained it. It's like layers of simulacra. I wonder what Baudrillard would say about this."

"Look, this isn't your Master's thesis. It's just porn, okay?" I told her irritably. "We get videos of people fucking, and we do their voices. Forget the simu-stuff and Bo-tard, or whatever the fuck his name is. Nobody's interested in any of that shit. Just come here and sit down."

Erin pouted and stared at me, wounded, defiant, but for the first time since I met her, she was silent. After a minute, she crossed the room and sat on the old leather sofa we kept in the 'media room' (in other words, the room that we kept the big screen TV in). There was a fairly new desktop computer to one side of the room. Beside it, sitting on hairless mannequin heads, were a pair of headsets with microphones. These were wirelessly linked to the computer for recording. This room, like every other room in our little office, was lit by bright, harsh, florescent lights.

"Alright, so you get a pen and a note pad and I get a pen and a note pad, right?" I handed them to her. "We're going to watch it once to get a sense of the plot."

"You don't know what the movie's about?"

I gave her the DVD case. The cover featured a couple of naked, large-breasted, sexily pouting, raven haired girls. They formed a kind of tent above the face of a spiky haired blonde guy looking super-excited, presumably about the prospect of fucking both these girls. It was a totally generic image. All the writing was in Cyrillic, large and neon as if begging for the reader's attention, but totally indecipherable.

"That's all we've got to go on," I explained. "Any ideas?"

Erin just shrugged.

"Okay, so as I was saying. We're going to watch it once and try to figure out the plot. I mean it doesn't have to be exactly right, as long as it makes some kind of sense. To be honest, people aren't watching these things for the story line, if you know what I mean."

I grinned, and expected Erin to laugh. All I got, though, was a bit of a nod. I was starting to feel a bit guilty about bursting her bubble earlier. Besides, knowing I'd be working with her for awhile, it would be better if we didn't hate each other.

"I'm just saying, you know, it doesn't have to be Shakespeare, as long as we've got something. Alright? Got it?"

Another sulky nod.

"Good," I said.

I started the DVD. Bouncy euro-disco theme music accompany the credits, which roll over an extended scene of a black haired girl (one of the two on the cover) in a shower, lathering her body. She spends a lot of time soaping her large breasts, her ass, and especially between her legs. It soon turns into a masturbation scene.

Interspersed with this are shots of a classic Porsche convertible driving along a winding mountain road. There's a guy driving - the guy with the spiky blonde hair. He's wearing a sweater with a mock-collar, and a pair of reflective sunglasses. Beside him is a gym bag and a tennis racket.

The guy pulls up to a house - sort of a mansion - and goes inside with his stuff. He drops his gear, and calls out something. (We continue to cut to the shower scene, where the woman in the shower really getting into getting herself off). The guy begins to undress - first his shoes then his sweater. He makes his way up the stairs, leaving his pants at the top. His button-down shirt is discarded outside of a closed door, which he opens onto a bedroom. He sits on the bed and removes his socks. Finally, just outside of another door, off come the boxers.

As the final credits fade, we get a close-up of an impressively thick and long cock. Then the man opens the door to reveal - what do you know? - the naked woman pleasuring herself. She sees him standing there and is startled, covering herself. He covers himself, too. There's shouting back and forth between them. Eventually the shouting calms down, and they're just talking. After a minute of back and forth, he grabs a towel, and attempted to hand it to her. She drops it on the floor, grabs his cock instead, and pulls him toward her. They start kissing.

I hit the fast-forward button on the remote. All the sudden, the two characters began to move at warp speed, pinging around the screen. One second she's shaking her head furiously at his crotch, the next he's tossed her on the bed and is thrusting into her like a needle on a sewing machine.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Erin protested. It was clear that she was really getting into the scene.

"This is just a waste of time," I explained. "There's no story here, it's just fucking. You're not missing anything, trust me. I'm skipping ahead to the next good part."

Since I started this job, I've lost interest in watching sex-scenes. They're mostly all the same, more or less, and after seeing so many of them, my mind starts to wander from erotic thoughts to more practical issues - like cleaning. The guy cums all over the place, they've messed up the furniture, their own clothes, themselves. But they never explain what happens after. Does the woman do a load of laundry. Does the guy scrub his semen out of the carpet? Do they just live with the mess and hope no one notices? Shit like that bothers me for some reason.

I hit the play button at just the right moment. Over the years I've developed an impressive (at least to me) accuracy with the forward, reverse, pause, and play buttons on the remote control. The couple slowed to normal speed. They were both panting hard. The woman's face was on screen - her make-up smudged, strings of white cum in her hair. She says something to the guy, then sucks more cum from her fingers, licks her lips, and gives the camera one final sexy look before the scene fades to black.

In the next scene, spiky blonde guy and the black haired woman are sitting at a breakfast table. The guy is reading the newspaper. Another woman, also with dark hair, but taller, and with more angular facial features comes in. She's dressed in a yellow summer dress, and has brought coffee and toast. She kisses the guy in front of the other woman, who looks away. The woman in yellow sits beside the guy, rubbing his shoulder, holding his hand and so on. The guy mostly ignores her.

The two women chat back and forth (Erin will need to do the voices for both. We'll record them separately and overlay them, so it'll sound like a real conversation) when suddenly the guy jumps up, and shouts something with a look of shock on his face. He waves the newspaper at both women, still shouting, and then rushes out the door. The women looked amused. After a little more chatter between them, the first woman (from the shower) checks her watch. She gets up, slings her purse over her shoulder, and leaves.

Meanwhile, the second woman stares out the window to the backyard, where the pool boy is cleaning the swimming pool. She calls to him, and after a short exchange, he joins her in the living room. There's a painting leaning against a wall, and a ladder set up next to it. She says something to him, then begins to climb. The boy, a mop-haired red-head, holds the ladder steady for her. He looks up. We see from his perspective up the woman's dress. She's neglected to put on underwear.

She says something to him. He looks bashful. He hands her the painting, which she hangs on a nail already conveniently in the wall. We continue to get up-skirt shots of her pussy. Without warning, the woman loses her balance flailing her arms. The camera shakes violently, and in the next shot we see the ladder on its side. The boy is lying on the floor next to it. And somehow the woman has landed crotch-first, straddled over his face. Her skirt has ridden up to show a nicely trimmed patch of pubic hair beneath his nose like a weird bushy moustache.

The woman laughs and says something to the boy. The boy says something back (muffled). The woman clutches at her breasts, then his hair. He grabs her ass with both hands as she begins to moan.

I paused the DVD there. The woman's face was frozen in an expression that you would expect an escaped mental patient to wear.

"Well?" I asked.

"What?" Erin responded.

"Your ideas about the story," I explained. I looked at her note pad. There was little written on it. "Tell me what you think is happening so far."

"Well, there's this guy, and he and the chick in yellow are probably married. And then there's this other woman, I don't know, maybe her sister or something. Anyway, he walked in on her in the shower after playing tennis, and they ended up having sex. So he cheated on her. But they were trying to hide it from the wife. He's some kind of big shot - like a banker or politician, I think. Whatever he read in the paper was something he had to go take care of. Maybe a politician. Then the sister decided she needed to go out shopping or something.

"But the wife, she's also cheating on the husband with the guy cleaning the pool now. So like, maybe that will come out and he'll have to deal with the pool boy, maybe by convincing the sister to fuck him in exchange for his silence or something."

"I don't know about that," I said. "Sometimes a pool boy is just a pool boy. A lot of the time, these characters are just there to be fucked, but they don't have any other purpose in the story."

"Oh," Erin said. She looked disappointed in herself.

"But otherwise, I think you did pretty well. It makes sense." Erin perked up, and actually gave me a smile. "Okay, let's watch the rest, and see what happens."

There were a few more scenes in the movie. The guy - we decided he was a mayor - was at the office, being interviewed by a female reporter. Then they had sex. After this, there was a scene of the office at night. Two burglars in masks break in to steal the mayor's documents. It's revealed that the burglars are none other than the reporter from before and the mayor's wife's sister. They steal a dossier, and then for good measure, screw each other on the mayor's desk - Another double role for Erin.

Later, the wife finds the dossier and confronts her sister about it. It turns out, though, that it was a double-cross, and the sister switched the real dossier for a fake one which she gave to the reporter.

The reporter's boss finds out about the screw-up and reprimands the reporter. Finally he tells her she can keep her job, but she has to blow him first, which she does with great sloppy enthusiasm. Back at the mansion, the whole plot is revealed to a relieved mayor. To celebrate, he, the wife, and the sister (whom we decide probably isn't a sister after all, but just a friend) have a threesome.

"Do you think you've got the gist of it?" I asked.

"I think so. So what now?"

"Now we do our part." I walked across the room and got the headsets. They were wirelessly linked to the computer, so we could move around without getting all tangled up. "Here, put this on." Erin slipped it over her head. I strapped my headset on as well. On the computer, I opened up the software that would erase the Luminian voices and replace them with our own. It was synched to the video, so whenever we paused the recording, the video would also pause, and so forth.

"Ready?" I asked.

Erin nodded. She looked nervous.

"It's going to be fine," I assured her. "Really, it's no big deal."

"Thanks,"

"One, two, three, and go."

I started the movie again from the beginning - there was the same cheesy disco music, and the same scenes - the woman in the shower, the man driving home. As the shower scene picked up, Erin began to moan - softly at first, then louder. I could hear her every breath clearly in my headset. Then the scene would cut away to the man driving, and there would be a pause until it returned to the woman in the shower, at which point Erin resumed her moaning.

I looked over at her on the couch. Her eyes were glued to the screen. Her hands seemed to follow the motions of the woman on the screen. They caressed her chest through her shirt, and ran down over her stomach, slipping between her legs. The moans became punctuated by little squeals and sighs, as the actress on the TV began to work her fingers against her clitoris.

"Hello?" I called out as the man entered the house. "Is anyone home?"

He began to disrobe and progress towards his meeting with the woman in the shower. Erin's moans grew to loud cries of ecstasy. On screen the black haired woman with the large breasts leaned against the tiled wall, with a foot high up on the glass shower door. Her fingers were buried deep inside herself. Beside me, blonde little Erin had stuck one hand between her legs and was rubbing vigorously at herself. The other hand was kneading one small breast through her shirt.

On screen, completely naked now, the mayor threw open the bathroom door.

"Oh shit!" I cried.

Erin screamed.

"What are you doing here?" I shouted.

"What are you doing here?" Erin shouted back.

"I live here!" I argued. "I'm the mayor. This is the mayor's house. My house. My shower."

"Melissa told me I could make myself at home."

"My wife?"

"We're old friends from college. I'm Christina."

"She didn't tell me anything about you."

"Yeah, that sounds like Melissa," Erin said laughing.

"Where is she anyway? She should be here."

"She had to go out and run some errands. She said she probably won't be back for an hour. You know, you're much more handsome in person than on TV."

The woman on the screen let her hands drop away from herself revealing her full luscious naked body to the mayor. He looked nervous.

"Um, thanks. I should probably go now."

"Before you do, can you hand me that towel?"

"This one?"

"Uh huh."

On the screen, the mayor attempted to hand Christina the towel. She grabbed his cock instead, already half-stiff, and pulled him into the shower stall with her. To my surprise, I felt a hand at my own crotch. Erin, had leaned across the sofa and was squeezing my cock through my jeans.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I shouted at her.

"Acting?" Erin said, looking at me uncertainly.

I paused the scene. We were going to have to re-record over this last part.

"That's not how this is done," I said. This had never been a problem with Denise. She had been pure professionalism.

"But... I need to get into character," Erin argued.

"What? It's sex. Can't you fake it? I mean, there's nothing to it. Just go 'oooh, ahhh, oh yeah baby' until it's over."

"Fine, I'll try your way," Erin said, pouting again.

I rewound to the last point of usable audio - just before Erin had grabbed my dick.

"Ready? Three, two, one, go."

"Before you go, can you hand me a towel?" Her voice was monotone.

"This one?"

"Uh huh." Totally unexcited.

Christina grabbed the mayor's cock, and pulled him into the shower.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for letting me stay here with you guys."

Christina started kissing the mayor. He tried to pull away from her, but she held him tight.

"But, I'm married!"

"She'll be gone for awhile." Dull, unenthusiastic. "Besides, we always used to share everything."

On screen, Christina dropped to her knees and took the mayor's cock into her mouth. Beside me, Erin just sat, looking angry.

"Oooh, ahhh, oh yeah baby," she said flatly, without passion.

I stopped the video again.

"What the hell, Erin?" I asked, "Are you trying to get fired on your first day."

"I told you," Erin shot back. "I have to get into character. Right now, I don't know what Christina is feeling. What's her motivation? You know, what drives her?"

I growled in frustration. "What drives her?!" I echoed angrily. "She's horny and she wants to get fucked by the mayor's big fat cock! That's what drives her."

"No, it's got to be deeper than that."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I shouted. I stood up, took off my headset, and paced around the room. Erin tracked me with her eyes. Her face was impassive. It was a minute before my temper cooled.

"What do you need to make this work?" I asked.

"I can't just simulate the simulation of simulated sex."

"Don't start with that shit again," I warned her.

"I need to authentically feel it so I can authentically embody it," Erin explained.

"So what you're saying is that in order for you to act like you're getting fucked, you need to get fucked? Am I getting you right?"

"I guess you could put it that way. It's called method, okay? We learned about it in like first year Drama." Her tone was condescending, like I was some kind of fucking idiot.

"Jesus," I swore again. "Listen, if we do this, it's only so you can find your fucking motivation, got it? This can't be an all-the-time thing. It's not how we operate, here."

"Fine," Erin agreed.

"And you can't say anything to anyone. Kent would give me shit if he found out we were fucking in here."

"Fine."

"And he'd probably throw your ass out."

"Fine. Can we just do this? I want to use this energy between us before we lose it."

I rolled my eyes at her. Then I went to the door and locked it. Usually, people knew that when the media room was in use, it meant that we weren't to be disturbed. And for our business, the sound of people screwing behind a closed door was not unusual or cause for alarm. But still, I didn't want to take any chances.

"Okay, how do you want to do this?" I asked.

"Well, Christina and the Mayor are both naked, so..."

Erin crossed to where I was standing. She pulled at my t-shirt, and lifted it up over my head. She hummed softly to herself, and ran her fingers appreciatively through the hair on my chest. Then her hands were at my belt buckle, pulling at it.

"Here," I said, after she'd fidgeted with it unsuccessfully for a few seconds. I brushed her hands away, and easily unfastened it myself. She pulled the belt free from my jeans, and casually tossed it aside. She then worked at the button of my pants, and popped it open. Her hand slid inside, through my pubic hair, and grasped my cock. It wasn't one of the mammoth nine-inchers the guys in the movies sported, but it was a serviceable five.

"Save it for the movie," I said, grabbing her arm.

Erin smiled at me with her slightly too big mouth, and stepped backwards. She crossed her arms in front of her and grabbed at her shirt. I'm sure she meant to pull it off in a fluid, sexy motion, but she'd forgotten about her headset, and it got tangled. Awkwardly, she freed herself, removed the headset, and then the shirt, with a little giggle.

Underneath, Erin wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were indeed small - about a good round handful each - but now that I saw them, I decided they were cute rather than pathetic. Each was capped by a nice little perfect raspberry of a nipple. I had the sudden desire to take one in my mouth and suck it between my teeth.

We both pulled our pants off at the same time, and stood in front of each other, completely naked. She scanned my body, and I hers. I noticed that she was shaved totally smooth, just like the women in the movies. I imagined how it would feel in my fingers. I'd probably know soon enough.

"Not too bad, Ryan," Erin complimented. "I definitely like what I see."

"I've got to admit, I like what I see too."

"I can tell," she said, gazing at my groin lecherously. I was already starting to get hard.

"Let's take it again from 'hand me a towel.'" I said, putting my headset back on. "Ready? Three, two, one, go."

"Before you go, can you hand me a towel?" She asked sexily.

"This one?"

"Uh huh."

Erin was seductively biting her little finger like the actress on the screen. The mayor grabbed the towel from the rack. I approached Erin. She reached out and crabbed my cock at the same time Christina grabbed the mayor's.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for letting me stay here with you guys."

Christina started kissing the mayor. Erin leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The mayor tried to pull away, but she held him tight.

"But, I'm married!"

"She'll be gone for awhile." Erin reached down and squeezed me again. "Besides, we always used to share everything."

On screen, Christina dropped to her knees and took the mayor's cock into her mouth. Simultaneously, Erin descended in front of me. She pressed her lips to the tip of my penis, kissing it gently. Then slowly, her lips parted and I found myself inside the wet warmth of her mouth. Erin used her tongue with more expertise than I would have given her credit for, circling and darting at the head like a nimble boxer, and then running it over the sensitive underside.

I groaned as the mayor on TV groaned. Erin moaned and sucked and spit just as Christina did. I slipped down Christina's throat, as Erin caressed the mayor's balls resting against her chin. They both came up gagging and panting, with a thick thread of salvia linking their bottom lip to the head of our cock. I'd never made a girl gag before.

The mayor pulled Christina up from the floor of the shower and led her to the bed. He pushed her, and she went tumbling over backwards. Erin collapsed backwards onto the sofa, legs spread wide apart. Her pussy was red and damp. The mayor and I teasingly kissed our way up their thighs to the soft little mound where they met. With one long slow broad lick of the tongue, we went from asshole to clitoris.

"Fuck!" they shouted giddily.

"You taste so fucking good," we told them. Erin did taste good, too. I lapped at her pussy like a kitten, drinking her sweet juices. She squirmed and cried out like Christina did as my fingers spread her lips apart, and my tongue probed inside over her. They grabbed us by the sides of the head, and pulled us deeper into them.

"Oh shit, don't stop, I'm going to fucking cum!" They shouted.

We intensified our licking.

"Ohhh fuuuhhhckk!!" Erin screamed as Christina's body shivered and shook. The juices of her pussy covered my face.

The mayor and I raised ourselves up and leaned over them. They were breathing hard, still recovering from the intensity of their orgasm.

"Taste yourself on my lips," we told them, kissing them hard. It was uncharacteristic for me, but in character for the mayor. They returned the kiss, just as passionately. Our hands found their tits, massaging them roughly. Their nipples were as stiff as diamonds beneath our palms.

"I want you to fuck my tits," Christina/Erin told me. On screen, Christina pressed her large breasts together around the mayor's cock. I rubbed my own cock on Erin's chest, until she grabbed it with both her hands, gripped it hard, and stroked it.

"Fuck, that feels good," we said.

The mayor seemed like he was enjoying himself. I, for one, was glad when this ludicrous act was over.

The mayor rolled off Christina, and lay back on the bed. I reclined on the couch. Erin and Christina climbed over us, facing us. I watched myself slide easily into Christina as Erin descended on top of me. They leaned forward, and kissed our face, their pussy bouncing up and down around my hard throbbing cock.

"You feel so fucking good inside me," the girls informed us. Then they changed position, sitting straight up and grinding back and forth with our cock balls-deep inside them. "Oooh shit, you fill me up so fucking good."

"Oh God, baby. I can't believe how fucking tight you are."

I didn't believe for a second that the black-haired porn star was tight, but looking from the TV up at the small-titted blonde riding me like a cowgirl, it was true. I don't think I've ever had a tighter pussy. I grabbed Erin's little ass, and gave it a smack. Christina gave a little squeak of surprise. There was a bright red hand print or her ample bottom.

Soon, they slid off of us. They took our cock again into their mouth, giving us another brief but sloppy blowjob. Our entire crotch was soaked with their spit. We stood up. The mayor bent Christina over the bed. I bent Erin over the arm of the sofa. We spread their legs, and ran our cock over their pussy, further lubricating it in their juices. Then we thrust inside them from behind. Christerin gave a loud audible gasp. The mayoryan pulled out almost the entire length of his shaft and then plunged back in again.

"Please, fuck me hard," they pleaded. This was repeated, and turned into a kind of mantra, as we began steadily stroking in and out of their slippery cunt. I could feel Erin all around me, almost gripping my cock with her pussy. The mayor and I picked up our tempo. We were fucking Erin so hard the couch began to shift across the room with each thrust.

Christina clutched at the sheets with both hands. A close-up of her face revealed the intensity of the pounding she was receiving from behind. The sounds the girls made were no longer words, but inarticulate shouts as they approached another orgasm. The mayor and I reached beneath them and began to finger their swollen clit. This produced a wild scream from them. We continued. Another minute of intense stimulation and they came a second time.

I felt Erin's pussy spasming around my cock. I looked down at her as I pulled out. Her muscles were tensed. Her eyes squeezed tight with the intensity of the feeling. I ran my hands over her body and across her small breasts, caressing them.

"That was amazing," Erin said, breathing heavily, and looking not at the TV, but straight at me.

On the screen, the mayor and Christina slid up onto the mattress. The mayor positioned himself behind Christina. Erin and I arranged ourselves accordingly on the leather sofa. There was a close-up of genitals meeting - one disappearing into the other as I re-entered Erin from behind. The mayor was mostly invisible to the camera now, apart from his cock, which took on an almost spectral, disembodied quality. We were all-cock now, thrusting into the girls, who had become all-cunt. Our balls slapped loudly against their clit. It filled the whole screen.

The camera, pulled away, and we all re-materialized. Christina's tits bounced joyfully in time to the pounding of our cock in a way that Erin's did not. Our hand appeared from behind and grabbed one, giving it a hard squeeze. They cried out. In pain or pleasure, it was hard to tell. The air was filled with groans and grunts and moans and profanities from all parties as we fucked harder and faster.

After a couple of minutes, we pulled out again. The mayor jumped off the bed, grabbed hold of Christina's ankles, and pulled her on her back to the edge of the mattress. I spun Erin on the couch. Before either of them knew what was happening, we plunged back into their pussy. This was the final position, and there would be no stopping until we came. I felt myself steadily building towards climax. Erin's pussy felt amazing on my throbbing cock. It wasn't going to be too much longer now.

"Are you going to cum for me?" The girls asked.

"Mmm, yes," we said.

"Mmm, I want your cum so bad."

"Where do you want it?"

"Oh, I want it all over my fucking face."

"Fuck!"

"Mmm, baby, give me your fucking cum."

"Fuck! I'm going to fucking cum!"

I pulled out of Erin just as the mayor pulled out of Christina on the TV. We stroked our cock furiously. In less than a second we exploded thick white strands of cum. The fist volley went to the side and landed in their hair. The second, slightly weaker hit their cheek. The third fell short of the face and landed on Christina's big tits (missing Erin's breasts, and landing instead on her thighs). The girls, leaned forward, rubbing the head of our still-discharging cock against their lips, smearing our cum over their face.

As spurts gradually turned to dribbles, they took our head into their mouth and sucked the remaining cum from it. The sensation after orgasm was almost too intense to bear, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Fuuuucck!" the mayor and I exclaimed.

On the screen, Christina's smiling, cum-splashed face gazed up into the mayors eyes. I looked down to find Erin also looking up at me, smiling. We were breathing hard.

The image in front of me was not as perfect as the one on TV. Our ejaculate was much more striking against Christina's black hair, than it was in Erin's blonde hair. The mayor had also produced more of it. Christina's face was more attractive, even with the messed-up makeup (Erin didn't wear makeup). The mayor had a body that was smooth skinned and muscular. Mine was more hairy and out of shape. That familiar sense of disappointment when real life doesn't match porn struck me more acutely than ever.

"I think I need another shower," Erin said for Christina, with a cheerful giggle.

"Yeah, me too," the mayor and I agreed.

On the screen, Christina sucked excess cum from her fingers, and licked her lips. She gave the camera one final seductive look before the scene faded to black. The next scene opened on the kitchen table, as we already saw. Everyone looked very well rested and put together. I paused the movie.

"So?" Erin asked, "Was I good?"

"We might have to use your method more often," I admitted.

I glanced around the media room. The tables were askew. Magazines that we kept on them were scattered across the floor - some had torn covers. Our hair was disheveled. Erin was covered in my cum- some of it had dripped onto me, and some had fallen on the back of the black leather sofa - also stained by Erin's juices. The sofa had slid halfway across the room, and the smell of our sex hung heavily in the air.

"How the fuck are we going to clean this?" I wondered aloud to myself.