It was crazy, I know. Answering an ad like that on Craig’s list… There are a lot of freaks out there, right? But I was in serious need of cash. The bills keep coming with two kids to feed and the way they outgrow shoes... Well, anyone with kids knows how it is. They need toys and clothes and stuff that my lousy waitressing job at Red Lobster can’t pay for, you know?

Anyway, I know I look good. Hell, I do all right with tips and I get plenty of phone numbers from the drunk losers at work when their girlfriends go off to the restroom. And it didn’t seem like that big a deal. Topless models wanted $100, was all the ad said. I can do topless. I got a great rack—a rack that drags men's eyes down there when they should be looking at my face, you know?

So I left the kids with my friend, Becky, and went down to the studio. Except it wasn’t really a studio. More like a three-room office in a strip mall. I walk in and the bells chime like in a video store and a guy comes out of the back room. His eyes go straight to my chest, as usual, but I figure it’s okay this time ‘cause that’s what I’m there for, right?

He’s average looking, a little pudgy with brown hair and a mustache. He says his name is Bob and I smile ‘cause I’m expecting something more… I don’t know—interesting?—‘cause he’s shooting topless photos and all, right? Bob takes me into the back room and there is all your standard photo equipment and backdrops and big lights just like when they show photo shoots on TV. I ask if he’s the photographer and he says sure but sometimes he trades off with Caspar. I laugh then, ‘cause at least Caspar is a more interesting name.

I ask where Caspar is and Bob jerks a finger at the other door where I can hear some moaning noises and all of a sudden it sounds like someone is having sex in there. I’m nervous enough, so I don’t ask.
Bob gets my information on a form, sitting in a chair across from me just like at a real job interview. He asked me to sign a model release form and he took a photocopy of my ID. I start to relax a bit. Bob asks if I’m married and I say no fucking way. Both of the jerks that knocked me up—one in high school and one a goddamn one-night stand, wouldn’t you know it?—are not in my life. Lately, I’ve been seeing this married guy and he says all sorts of shit like he’ll leave his wife, but I know that never happens. I have to take care of myself and my kids, just like always, you know? Which is sort of what I tell Bob when he asks, except I leave out the part about the married guy.

Bob nods like he cares and then he has me stand up and takes a couple random shots of me with my shirt on and then a couple with just my bra—to get me comfortable, he says. A couple of people come out of the other room and I hear a girl laughing and two guys talking. I can’t see them because of the screens. The chime sounds again and I figure they went out.

Another guy pops his head around the corner and Bob introduces me to Caspar, who I’d expected to be all pale and skinny, but he’s like super-duper tan and pretty good-looking. His hair is so blond it looks white, which must be why they call him Caspar, unless it really is his name.

So, anyway, I’m nervous again until Caspar sits down and fiddles with the lights and he’s got a really great voice that kind of makes you all tingly when he talks. He tells me I’m gorgeous and I look great on camera. I’m feeling pretty good after that, so when he tells me to drop the bra, I just do it, no problem.

Caspar and Bob take what seems like dozens of shots in different poses and then Caspar asks how I would feel going all nude. By then, I’m actually getting pretty turned on, mostly from Caspar’s deep voice and the way he looks at me when he comes forward to move my arms into the right position. Bob mentions a dollar figure and I figure, hell, I can use the money and I’m already topless, right?

So I drop the clothes and let them take some nudes and they keep them, you know, tasteful. Nothing graphic, thank goodness, or I probably would have freaked. They were pretty professional.

Bob says, “That’s a wrap,” just like in the movies, which I thought was hilarious, and leaves the room. Caspar hands me a robe—kind of funny since he’s pretty much seen everything I’ve got.

“How would you feel about making a porn video?” Caspar asks in that awesome voice. “It pays a thousand bucks.” He pulled out a large roll of $100 bills wrapped in a rubber band from his pocket.

I’m instantly nervous again, but he smiles and, man, are his teeth perfect and white against that tan. I blurt out, “Only if you’re in it with me,” and then I nearly clap a hand over my mouth ‘cause I can’t believe I just said that and he laughs.

“I can handle that,” he says. “Do you have time right now?”

I figure he probably pushed right then because he knew if I left and thought about it, I’d talk myself out of it. And then he reaches up and sort of caresses the back of my neck and I suddenly want to feel those hands all over me. I think about how boring sex is starting to get with my married boyfriend and I think about having sex in front of Bob and the cameras and I’m suddenly super-duper turned on. I say yes before I can think about it too long.

And, frankly, I’m already mentally paying bills with that money.

Caspar takes me into the other room and waves at Bob, who nods and locks the front door. Bob follows us into the room and this one has a bed and lots more equipment—lots of different cameras set up to get different angles, I figure.
Since I already just have a robe on, Caspar decides that’s fine and Bob starts giving directions. I try not to giggle, but it’s just so weird.

“Okay, Carrie, can you kneel down and take Caspar’s pants off—and try to do it sexy, like you can’t wait to jump his bones.”

That part should be easy, I figure, because Caspar is fucking making me hot. I kneel down and unzip his jeans and he’s not wearing underwear, so I just slide his jeans down a bit and reach in to pull out his cock. It’s already hard and I’m shocked at how large it is, especially since I’ve only been with, like, three guys in my entire life and I suddenly realize I’ve been missing out. I stroke it without Bob telling me to and then I lean forward and run my tongue up the length of it. Caspar gasps and his hand reaches out to touch my head.

“Perfect,” says Bob. “Keep going, but drop the robe.”

I shrug off the robe and take Caspar’s dick in my mouth. I try to suppress the gag reflex ‘cause he’s huge, but I think I’m pretty good at giving blow jobs, ‘cause my married boyfriend constantly asks for them.

I suck my way up from the base and swirl my tongue around the head a few times before nearly swallowing it again and I keep that up for while until Caspar’s breathing is uneven and he tells Bob he’s about to shoot his wad, so Bob tells me to stop and get on the bed.

I slide back onto the sheets—satin, I notice—and Caspar tears his jeans the rest of the way off and ditches his t-shirt. Caspar joins me on the bed and fondles and sucks on my breasts for a minute while Bob gives me orders to raise my knees, spread them wide, and raise my ass up a bit for a good crotch shot.

I’m a little embarrassed, but what Caspar is doing with his tongue on my nipples is nicely distracting and then his hand slides down into the crotch shot and touches my clit and I nearly spring off the bed, I’m so turned on.

Caspar scoots down and starts licking my pussy with long strokes all the way from my butthole to the tip of my clit and I’ve never felt anything so amazing. I start gasping and crying out so much that Bob doesn’t have to say anything for awhile and I can hear him moving from camera to camera. The idea that other people will be watching just gets me hotter.

I orgasm like a wild woman with full-on head-thrown-back screaming and hands clenched in the sheets and I nearly start laughing when I hear Bob say, “Excellent, really great,” like I was acting or something, but then Caspar slides that huge cock into me and that feels even better. He pounds into me a few times until Bob makes us switch positions several times to get better shots.

Caspar’s cock slides in and out from behind and my legs are spread wider than I’ve ever had them in my life, and the camera lights are hot, and my crotch is being filmed, for God’s sake, but it’s still the best sex I’ve ever had and I come again right before Caspar does. He pulls out to shoot his hot semen all over my stomach and then we both lay there, spent.

“That’s a wrap,” says Bob and this time I do giggle.

Caspar strokes me on the thigh. “You were really great,” he says and that hot voice is like a caress. “You should make more videos. You’re a natural.”

“I don’t know if I’m up for that,” I say. It’s starting to sink in and I suddenly wonder if anyone I know will be watching the video. It’s a scary thought and I wonder why I didn’t think of that before.

I get cleaned up and dressed and as I’m driving home I think about Caspar’s business card in my purse and his offer to hook me up next time I need some extra cash. Heck, I’m thinking about doing it again just to get another shot at Caspar. The odds of anyone I know seeing it are slim, right?

By the time I pull in my driveway, I’ve pretty much decided to do it again