Sex, Lies and DVD Sales
Well that didn't take long.
Not more than a week after my encounter with a novice to bondage and there's been no sign of him again. Should've know better, honestly. I mean, it's not like people are coming in here to hook up for dinner and a movie with some cuddling on the couch afterwards. Still even if it was destined to only be a fuckbuddy relationship, I would've still been interested. Especially on a day like today.
Today the owner, in his finite wisdom, decided that we should have a DVD release signing. Why in any appropriate divinity's name he decided that celebrating the release of "Dragon Cocks V", in HD with blooper reel and extended commentary, was something to not only advertise but bring in the star of the 'film' to sign copies of his 'work'. I use the sarcastic quotes largely because I'm still grumpy that I was a fling. While I'm grumbling that I just got common law dumped by an eighteen year old who was my best lay in the last couple of years, Studly McMuscled Dragon over there is grinning like a madman while clusters of busty girls collect around him in a throng. The guys are all too shy to ask and linger around the corners, stealing glances of their idol while trying to surreptitiously shop for rubber vaginae. I, however, am slumped over the counter and glowering at the clock. Maybe I could use this as leverage to get a pity fuck from Toby, I think to myself. The fantasy begins to play out in the back of my skull as my glower drifts into a dreamy smile over the idea of Toby's perfect shaft slipping under my tail while he whispers sweet words in my ear, telling me how I'm handsome and I'll find the right guy...
"Sir?"
God I hate being called sir, but seeing as I don't wear a nametag I can hardly fault the female wolf on the other side of the counter for saying it. After all, she just wants me to ring up her copy of the movie so she can get home to her vibrator and active fantasy life. So I put on my best smile and scan the thrice cursed thing. Thirty bucks. Geeze, I could probably slip that to a guy at the Pink Martini and get enough of a lapdance to handle my orgasm for the day. Still, I swipe her card and hand her the receipt. We don't bother with the 'have a nice day' seeing as it's pretty obvious that anyone who comes in here is intending on that when they get home.
Before long the line of tittering girls dwindles and it's down to me and the porn star. I'm sitting being a black, plywood counter and he's stuck in a folding chair behind a card table. For a moment, I almost feel bad for him. Then I remember his ten movie lineup in the backroom and swiftly go back to loathing him.
"Something wrong?" He cocks an eyeridge at me as he crosses those melon sized biceps over the front of the table, "you've been looking over here all day. If you like what you see, just say so."
Now I'm up to a good glower. It usually take me a while but with the right buttons pressed I can lay it on thick. "Psssht. Great so on top of all that, you're a narcissist. Fantastic."
He snickers, "you think people like me get into movies like mine 'cause of high moral fiber?"
I roll my eyes, "oh just quit it. I'm not some giggling girl who squeals at the sight of your cock pounding into some underwear model's crotch."
"Which is probably why I'm talking to you and not signing a copy of my DVD." He's still got a shit-eating grin on his snout and part of me just wants to deck him for it. How dare he get more sex than I do by factors of ten. Or... a hundred, but who's counting.
"Great, so I'm convenient conversation for you? Anything you'd care to talk about? Politics? Species relations? Compare dick sizes?"
"What flew up your ass and died?" He snorts at me, his broad chest heaving under his breath.
He's got me there. "Just ... " I wonder for a moment why I'm bothering to refrain. He's been in enough pornos to know every move out of the Karma Sutra and probably added a few of his own. "I'm hard up, okay?"
"Hard up or HARD up?" That smile is back in a moment.
"Yeah laugh it up, chuckles." I lean back against the counter and sigh, "at least you can land some tail."
Now he lets out a deep laugh that I can feel in my chest. The voice alone in enough to send a quiver up my spine and along other appendages. "Yeah, 'cause in a porno it's all about the sweet, sweet loving."
"Hey," I retort, trying to cover up my semi-hardon, "at least it's something warm to stick your dick in."
"You know how good it feels to take five hours to shoot a fifteen minute scene?" Now he's leaning back in the chair, his broad thighs flexing to support him as he crosses those beefy arms over his chest, "imagine the worst case of blue balls and over-exhaustion you can. Then triple it."
"Must be so horrible for you, fucking women for hours on end." In response, I've already crossed my legs and tried to keep focused on his face.
"Well, I wouldn't be in it if I didn't get some fun..." His eyes have dropped now and both eyeridges are raised, "it's just not always from a take."
"Where then?" I shift again to try to throw his gaze off my now rather swollen cock. It's bad enough that he's a prick but did he have to be such a hot one?
"Sometimes an adoring fan," he slips out of the chair and stands, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back. I know he's doing it just to tease me. He caught sight of my over-enthusiastic cock and wants to milk it for all it's worth... I mean, the teasing. By then I realized I was already losing the battle.
"Who else then?" I thought, 'fuck it', and just leaned back against the counter. He wants to play that kind of game, I'll play it back. So I spread open my thighs, let my own sufficiently ample bulge be revealed and tried my best to look equally hot. I didn't stand a chance but let it never be said that I didn't try.
"Sometimes hard up store clerks with something to prove," he leaned in and stared straight at my cock with a grin.
I went brown in moments. Which was exactly what he wanted.
"Well parts of you don't seem to object to the idea..." He leaned in over the counter a bit more, letting me catch a glance of the firm pectoral cleavage he was sporting through the flimsy t-shirt he was wearing.
"Look," I tried to gather up what little pride I had remaining, "I don't need a pity fuck from some jackass porn star. I'm just, not having much luck on the dating scene. I'll find someone." My voice cracking on that last bit did little to help my case.
"Who said anything about a pity fuck?" He leaned back and pulled off his shirt, tossing it back onto the table. "I'm just looking to bring a new fan into the fold."
I had a witty response. I know I did. Somewhere in my now blood-depleted brain was the perfect quip to level this musclehead's ego. However, as my eyes trailed over the clefts of solid muscle across his well-sculpted body and I felt my slit began to leak like a sieve, I found my only response to be stunned silence.
That grin only spread wider as he passed through the 'Employee's Only' entrance to the counter and slid a paw down to his own groin. Slowly he began to unzip the fly on his equally tight jeans, pausing afterwards to flick open the button like a professional. Beneath the taut denim was a skimpy black satin g-string, likely standard issue, which strained at what appeared to be a partial hardon of his own.
"Here?" I managed to stutter out, my eyes still trailing over every inch of the biggest slab of dragonmeat I'd seen.
"Here." It wasn't a confirmation, so much as an assertion. There was no other place. He'd made up his mind and there was no changing it.
The jeans hit the floor as I felt his massive paws squeezing my rump and thighs possessively. The well-worn pair of bicycle shorts still clinging to my scaled hide were shucked off in a moments notice and tossed into some darkened corner. He yanked me towards him roughly, pressing slit to slit and gyrating his hips against mine. This position left my snout buried in mounds of thick, scaled muscle and intoxicating musk.
"C'mon... you know you want to." He hissed from behind clenched teeth as a hand slid down to grope along the cleft of my rump while the other gripped the back of my head and kept my nostrils filled with the scents of sex and male dragon, "lick me clean, lizard..."
I'm sure I would have objected earlier, particularly while bemoaning my lack of sexual encounters. Being the the middle of one, however, changed my perspective. I couldn't have stopped myself even if I wanted to. My tongue moved with a minds of it's own and soon I was bathing those glistening scales with my saliva and savoring every flavor. The grinding became much more rough as my tongue traced along the underside of his chest and across the top of his abdominals, pausing for a moment to tickle my way down his treasure trail before nuzzling back up along the cleft of his pectorals. Sweat and musk never tasted so sweet as deep, throaty moans echoed above my head.
"Mmmm. Not bad...." I found myself whimpering as he drew back, though the sadness was short lived. Equally roughly as before, he hefted me onto the counter and tossed my legs over his shoulder. Where the g-string had gone, not like I was in any mood to object, I'd no clue. However I was now staring down a good foot and a half of brilliant, crimson pornstar cock that was pressing rather eagerly at my backside. Having always assumed that Hans would split me open, I'd now find out as someone nearly twice his size pressed forward and into me.
My anal vent strained at the girth but being as horny as I was, ever inch was eagerly accepted. I wasn't a novice to this, I'd taken plenty under the tail in my younger days but after a couple of years of a dry spell, I'm sure I was back up to near virginal tightness. The stud seemed to appreciate it and made sure to wedge every last inch of his thick shaft inside me to enjoy the feeling. Soon enough I could feel my rump moistened by his slitfluids and the hard muscle of his thighs pressed firmly against me.
Somehow I assumed he wasn't the type to take it nice and slow. Soon enough he was slapping his hips against me, pounding me back against the counter as he abused my tailhole to the fullest. The sensation was next to mindblowing. I'd never taken something that huge before and here it was, jackhammering into me like I was built for it. My claws dug into the counter as the stud rocked against me harder, ramming home into my vent. Above me, his eyes were shut tight, his whole body moving as if it were on autopilot. Through my own drooping eyelids, I could see the contours of his snout, angled and powerful. Those lips, even pursed in concentration, were so inviting. I slid my paws around him, gripping his muscled sides as I lifted my snout to his. At first, he pulled away. After all, in a shoot they weren't exactly supposed to get to that kind of intimate. I didn't care, though. Kissing's always been a big turn on for me and I'd be dammed if while getting fucked by a porn star I didn't get at least a little bit of tongue.
I forced my lips against his and worked my tongue along them until they parted. After that it was like wrestling with a anaconda. His tongue lashed around mine and soon both our snouts were locked together. My whole body tensed as a few spurts of my cum splattered along his firm belly, dribbling down along the folds of his slit. I didn't feel anything from it, so I kept bucking back against him, tasting every inch of his mouth and clenching down hard around his shaft.
Another shot, this time of clear pre, erupted from my cock and the tingle of getting close to my release was feeling more and more intense. The stud, however, showed no signs of ending and would likely continue to pound me even after I was firing blanks. So I resolved to have him beat me to the punch. Quickly I slipped my tail upwards, slathering the tip of it in my ample slitfluids and brushing it along the folds of his own. Before he could open his eyes to see what was going on, I slid my tail back down and under his own, nudging it against his vent. His eyes, a brilliant emerald I hadn't noticed until now, shot open and looked down at me confused for a moment until I arched my tail upwards and pierced his vent with it's tip. A gasp slipped from his lips as I fed as much of it as I could into his backside, pressing past the initial resistance and rubbing the smooth, scaled flesh against the knob of his swollen prostate. I could feel his arms tensing as he gripped me against him tighter, breaking the kiss to lean out a long, hissing moan as the stimulation managed to coax out another inch of length from his cock. I continued to writhe my tailtip inside him, brushing against every sensitive nerve that I could find as he pummeled me until, with a hoarse growl, I felt him tense as his cock erupted inside me. My own sputtered out it's load though it seemed rather unimportant. After all, I won.
Not that losing would have been that bad either...
The stud, however, wasn't even close to done. Gripping my rump tightly he alternated between thrusting and pausing, unloading a nearly steady stream of hot dragonseed into my vent. My toes curled at the sensation of being filled near to overflowing; my rump still clenching along his length as it continued to pound into me. Even pornstars have their limits, sadly, and after a solid fifteen minutes of afterglow fucking, he slumped against the counter and gasped for breath. For myself, I could only just barely move through the sensation of numbness that was radiating out from my groin.
"Sorry ... multiple ... orgasms ...." He panted for a moment, trying to regain his composure, "it's a ... talent they encourage you to cultivate."
"I'm not objecting," I purred as I trailed my clawtips over his chest.
Slowly he slipped his way out of me with a splorch and the two of us collapsed onto the cheap hardwood floor. All I could do was grin in a daze as the accommodating stud of a dragon cleaned himself up and pulled back on his jeans.
"Can I look forward to you as a fan?" That shit-eating grin was back but some how I found it less irritating after a good romp. Must have shown through my otherwise cool demeanor because he stroked my belly beneath the my t-shirt and cooed, "thought so."
Had I been nearly as bitter and jaded as I act, or perhaps not been flipping between partners for the past couple of years, I might have been a little more resilient to his advances. Heck, I might have managed to turn him down.
I would have beaten myself up over it afterwards but principals are principals.
After a short while cleaning myself up and him throwing back on his t-shirt we assumed our normal routines 'till the store closed. A few parting glances was all we managed between the incoming hordes but I had to smile when, as he was packing up, he slipped something onto the counter in front of me. Looking down I saw a copy of Dragon Cocks V with a fresh signature across the cover.
Before I could respond he was in the doorway and waving at me, the ever present grin on his face. Part of me wanted to chase after him. Maybe see if it wasn't just a fling or if he might be willing to schedule another fling sometime soon. Of course he had his life to get back to and I still had a store to close. A guy can dream, though. It was then that I took a good look at the autograph on the movie's glossy, plastic cover:
"To Tazo, best lay I've had since Dragon Cocks IV."
Even in defeat, he still claimed a victory, the cheeky bastard.