Luisa left in the early
afternoon and Carla followed shortly after, off to spend a couple days
with friends in San Francisco. This left Annabel alone in a house that
suddenly seemed very quiet.
She spent most of the
rest of the afternoon cleaning up the aftermath of the party. There was a
lot to be done but she actually rather enjoyed it; periodically she
would pause and think of something that had happened the previous night.
Twice she had to stop and rub herself to orgasm before carrying on.
Once the house was clean
she heated up some leftovers, opened a bottle of white wine, and sat
down in the living room, eating and drinking and reminiscing. But after a
half-hour of that she grew restless. She flipped on the TV but didn’t
really watch, repeatedly refilling her wine glass and pacing around the
house, occasionally walking out to the deck and looking out at the water
and the sky.
Without Carla there to
give some structure to her existence, time seemed to just stretch out
endlessly. She had no idea of how to fill it, none that seemed
interesting, anyway. The night before the house had been so full of
life, and now it seemed like the loneliest place in the world.
For a minute she thought
about getting in touch with Kim, or Monica, or even Katya, and begging
them to come over. But then she realized she couldn’t even if she wanted
to — she didn’t have any of their numbers. They were Carla’s friends,
not hers. This made her want to cry. Why didn’t she have any friends of
her own? What was wrong with her?
Carla, meanwhile, had
arranged to stay with her friend Daisy in San Francisco. Daisy lived
almost rent-free in an amazing loft in the SOMA district. The only catch
was that it was owned by a company that made adult films, who would
occasionally use the loft for shoots.
This was how Carla came
to find herself sitting in Daisy’s living room watching three pretty
girls fuck. Daisy told her that sometime the directors and actors didn’t
want observers on the set, and sometimes they didn’t mind. Tonight the
latter was the case, so Daisy and Carla had hung around the loft as the
director — a tall, short-haired blonde in her early 40s — discussed what
they were about to shoot with the three actresses.
The scene would begin
with the three of them doing yoga together. Then the older of the three
actresses — an absolutely stunning Eurasian in her late 20s — would get
the other two into cobra pose, with their hands behind their backs, and
tell them to close their eyes. She would use yoga straps to tie their
hands behind their backs and proceed to dominate them — making them lick
her pussy and each other’s, spanking them with a cane, and fucking them
with a strap-on.
This was all discussed
very professionally and matter-of-factly. The two younger actresses —
one brunette and one redhead — appeared to be somewhere between 18 and
21, and Carla could see in their eyes that they were excited by the idea
of being dominated by this enchanting creature. She found her eyes
constantly drawn to the Eurasian, who in addition to being beautiful had
intelligent eyes and a magnetic presence.
As they talked the
cameraman and soundman — both neat-looking, easygoing types, not the
mulleted sleazebags Carla might have expected — set up their equipment
and rearranged the furniture. From their demeanor throughout the shoot,
completely focused and indifferent to what was going on before them,
Carla assumed that they were gay.
Carla and Daisy sat in a
corner away from the camera and watched as filming got underway. The
scene was super-hot, there was no doubt about it; the three girls were
really into it, and they were all gorgeous with great bodies. But Carla
found herself restless and distracted. She kept thinking about Annabel
instead of paying attention to the naked bodies writhing on the floor in
front of her, which was really not like her.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment