Reality Girl: Episode Two (Behind the Scenes #2) Page 5

  It didn’t get any easier to watch. I simply couldn’t believe my eyes. In a million years, I never would have guessed he’d be doing what he was doing with who he was doing it with. I felt betrayed.

  Kind of.

  Maybe inferior was a more accurate description.

  Les began to buck his hips wildly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper. His eyes opened and he looked down. “Suck that cock, you submissive little bitch,” he growled.

  I stared at the screen in disbelief.

  Holy shit. That’s a damned good blowjob.

  Yes. I felt inferior.

  I shifted my attention from the screen to the three men. With wide eyes and open mouths, they stared back at me for a split-second.

  “Shut down screen seven,” the one who was standing said.

  “Leave it on,” I said.

  “Shut it down,” he repeated.

  “Leave it on.” I pulled the door closed behind me. “I want to watch.”

  “Seriously?” the one closest to the door asked.

  “Yeah.” I motioned toward the screen and wedged my way between the two men who were seated. “Leave it on.”

  “You really want to watch it?”

  I shrugged. “While he’s doing this, I got nothing better to do.”

  I felt guilty for a second, but only a really short second. After all, it was a set for a reality show, and for Les to think for one minute that each and every room wasn’t being watched by the film crew would be foolish.

  And, what I was seeing was a huge dose of reality.

  I fixed my eyes on the screen. Les pulled his cock free and began to stroke it with his hand. “I’m going to come all over your face.”

  “Oh God. Please.”

  “Not now,” Les said. “Only after I fuck that tight little ass of yours. Bend over the bed, bitch.”

  “You’re finally going to give it to me?”

  “I told you earlier I was going to fuck that ass, and now I’m going to. While she’s sleeping.”

  Les’ thick cock was as hard as a rock. Clenched tight in his fist, it looked impressive, and every bit of eight inches long.

  I glanced at my wrist, and then back at the screen.

  Les had a very pretty cock.

  “So, you didn’t know?” the man on my left asked.

  With my eyes still glued to the screen, I shook my head. “No clue.”

  “None?” the man behind me asked. “I mean; you didn’t even wonder?”

  “Not a clue.”

  Although I felt slight guilt for it, I was really turned on from watching. Uncomfortably wet, horny, and still feeling slightly inferior, I watched as Les slid a condom over his throbbing cock and began to bark out orders.

  “Spread that ass wide, bitch.”

  Compliance came quickly.

  Without much warning, Les began to shove himself into the tight ass that he’d apparently been yearning to fuck since the day he arrived.

  “Dear God. He’s going to rip the gaffer’s ass to pieces,” the man behind me whispered. “He’s hung like a mule.”

  Muffled groans filled the production room. Les placed his hands on his waist as if he were posing for a scene in a porn movie, and then began to work his hips back and forth rhythmically. From the perfectly shaped tip of his thick cock to his shaved balls, he made sure every inch of his manhood was being used.

  I couldn’t pry my eyes away from the action. While Les continued to own the ass he was fucking, I crossed my legs and stared at the screen.

  “Take it all, you cunt,” Les growled.

  “Cunt,” the man on my left said with a laugh. “I like that.”

  Les continued like a man truly possessed. It seemed he was far from done, and as much as I wanted to watch until the climax, I needed a little relief.

  “Alright.” I pushed myself away from the workbench. “I’m out of here. But the next time this happens, someone better come get me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  The man who was standing shrugged. “Okay.”

  Still in slight shock, but turned on so much that I couldn’t go another moment without pleasing myself, I reluctantly turned toward the door and quietly left the room.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Franky looked at me with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. “Un-fucking-believable”

  I took a drink of my margarita and nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “And you had no idea?”

  “None.”

  My response came quick. I didn’t even have to think about it. “No indication? Not one clue?”

  I shook my head. “Not one.”

  “I bet if I met him I would have known.”

  I scrunched my nose. “How?”

  “Guys can sense that shit.”

  “Whatever.”

  “We can.”

  “Well, it seemed from what I could tell that no one knew. I’m sure Kelli didn’t know, and she interviewed him.”

  “Sounds like it wasn’t Randy’s first time either,” he said.

  “Uhhm, no. Definitely not his first.” I coughed out a laugh. “He could run a class on how to suck dicks. That guy was taking it down his throat without gagging one bit.”

  “Deep throat king,” he said with a laugh. “Or queen.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Which would it be?”

  “King, I think. I mean, he’s still a guy.”

  “But you said Les was calling him a bitch. Maybe he’s a girl in a man’s skin.”

  I wagged my eyebrows as I took another drink. “Maybe,” I said as I lowered my glass. “Maybe he’s transgender. Doesn’t really matter. All I’m saying is that he’s really good at sucking dicks. Big dicks.”

  “It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

  “What part?”

  “Well,” he said. “Les, the big bad biker is covered in tats, rides a Harley, argues with the producer on a daily basis, has a dick like a mule, and he’s on a reality show with a woman who he’s supposed to be falling in love with.” He paused and widened his eyes. “And, he’s gay. Irony at its best.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “And Kelli said if you two don’t spice it up, you’re going to be sorry.” He chuckled. “That isn’t going to happen.”

  I took exception to his comment. “She didn’t say spice it up.”

  “Well,” he said. “It sounds like that’s what she meant.”

  I finished my drink and then sighed. “She’s a bitch.”

  “So, you haven’t said anything to Les since last night?”

  I didn’t see any value in telling Franky about masturbating my way through three mind-blowing orgasms at the thought of Les face-fucking Randy and then fucking him in the ass. I couldn’t help but wonder if my sexual desires were slightly off-center, but watching the two men have sex was a huge turn on for me.

  I shook my head. “I was tired, so I went back to my room and went to sleep.”

  “And then you left this morning without saying anything?”

  I licked the rim of my empty glass and wished I had time for another. “He was adjusting the carburetor on his bike or something. So, I just slipped out.”

  “But, you’re going to tell him? That you were watching? Right?”

  I’d given it quite a bit of thought, but couldn’t decide what to do. I wondered if he would think that watching him was creepy, and decided he probably would. If the tables were turned, however, I was pretty sure he’d watch me suck someone’s dick if given the opportunity.

  “I don’t know.”

  He started laughing, and the laugh turned to a cough. As he caught his breath, he continued. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re just going to act like you don’t know?” He shot me a look. “But you do know, and that kind of changes things, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”
/>
  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “He doesn’t like girls, Lou. He’s attracted to men. That’s about as big of a difference as there is.”

  I gazed past him, at the row of bottles carefully positioned side-by-side on the shelf. In all reality, I wanted to tell Les nothing, continue to watch him fuck Randy whenever he felt the desire, and pleasure myself at the thought of it.

  Realistically, though, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I’ll say something,” I said. “I just need to decide when – and what – it’s going to be.”

  “The truth always seems to work best.”

  He was right. The truth did seem to always work best.

  I simply needed to figure out a way to tell it without sounding like an eavesdropping weirdo.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After returning from the bar, I decided to lay in the sun and relax. Avoiding any confrontation with Les was second nature for me, and although I realized I couldn’t do it forever, I was enjoying it for the time being.

  After a matter of minutes, and long before I was ready to talk, Les joined me at the pool. Wearing his jeans, no shoes, and no shirt, he sat in the chair beside me. After acknowledging his presence, I gazed out at the horizon.

  I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know what.

  Or how.

  “You’ve been pretty quiet today,” he said.

  “You were working on your bike.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  I wondered if I should tell him the truth or make something up. I considered telling him some half-baked lie for a moment, and then what Franky said came to mind.

  The truth always seems to work best.

  I turned to face him. “I was at a bar.”

  He looked at me in disbelief. “At 10:30 in the morning?”

  I nodded. “It’s my escape from all of this.”

  He grinned. “Is the bartender hot?”

  My mouth curled into a smile. “Kind of. How’d you know?”

  He laughed. “If you were an alcoholic, you’d have a bottle in your room. You wouldn’t need to go to the bar at 10:00 in the morning, that’s for sure. And, you’d make all the excuses in the world to drink during the day. But, you don’t. So, you’re going there for other reasons. It’s the only one that makes sense.”

  I turned away and focused on the horizon again. I felt like a kid who had been caught sneaking cigarettes behind the barn. “He’s really nice.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Franky.”

  “Frank or Franky?’

  “Franky.”

  “Given name?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “I like it.”

  I grinned. “Me too.”

  After a few seconds of silence, I let out a sigh. “If you were walking by the production room, and you heard a bunch of guys laughing, and then, say you opened the door to see what the commotion was about. Then, let’s say when you did I was on one of the monitors sucking a guy’s cock.” I looked right at him. “Would you stay and watch?”

  “Hell yeah, I would.”

  “Really?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I sat up and shrugged. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be kind of creepy?”

  “Not to me. I think people who are comfortable in their sexuality are more open when it comes to sex. People who aren’t, aren’t. I am, so I am. Yeah, I’d watch.”

  I nodded, then shot him a smile. I didn’t know where I was going to take the conversation for sure, but realized I had to somehow tell him what I saw. I didn’t necessarily need answers, I simply wanted him to know that I knew. From there I felt that we could resolve any indifferences.

  He folded his arms in front of his chest and grinned. “Did you see something in the production room?”

  I nodded.

  “What was it?”

  I quickly became uncomfortable even though it seemed he was in agreement with what I had done – so much so that he couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

  “I uhhm.” My throat went tight. I fought to swallow, and then continued. “I was looking for you last night, and I went upstairs. I walked by the production room, and all of the guys were talking and stuff. So I opened the door to ask them if they knew where you were.”

  His eyes went wide. “And?”

  “You were…” I paused and inhaled a long breath. “Randy was sucking your dick.”

  His grin faded, but his face didn’t go solemn. “What did you think when you saw that?”

  It was easier to respond than I would have guessed. “I was shocked at first.”

  “And then what?”

  I laughed a light laugh. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, seriously. I want to know.”

  “I thought it was hot.”

  He smiled again. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “How much did you see?”

  “I watched until the end pretty much. At least I think it was the end.”

  He rubbed his growth of beard. “And then what?”

  I wasn’t as embarrassed as I thought I should be. Maybe it was his lack of concern that made me overly comfortable. “I went to my room and masturbated.”

  “No shit?”

  “True story.”

  “Wow. Two guys having sex didn’t bother you?”

  “No. Why would it?”

  “Can’t come as a surprise that there’s a pretty large part of the population that finds homosexuality repulsive.”

  “I’m not one of them,” I said. “I was taught that we’re all equal.”

  “Good to know.” He kicked his legs over the side of the lounge, and then turned to face me. “So what do you really think?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It had to come as a shock.”

  “It was,” I agreed. “A big one.”

  “And you’re okay with it?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not something I can argue with. It’s kind of like the sky being blue or water being wet. It’s just how things are.”

  “So you don’t think it’s a decision I made?” he asked. “To be gay?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think so, no.”

  “It’s not.” He shook his head. “I knew when I was about six. Six or seven.”

  I found it interesting. “Six or seven? No joke?”

  “I think so. I guess I didn’t really know, but I felt like I did. When I was twelve I had my first sexual experience.”

  I tossed my legs over the side of the chair. “Really?”

  “Chuck Bleckley. We played basketball. Our coach knew, or at least I think he did. He was a homophobe. The guy wouldn’t say anything even if he felt he had to. At least not to our faces.”

  “What happened to Chuck?”

  “He moved away that summer. I think his parent’s thought I was a bad influence.”

  “Were you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Did your parents know?”

  “About Chuck?”

  “Yeah. But I really meant about it in general. You know, about you being gay.”

  “They didn’t know about Chuck, no. At least not then. But by the time I was in high school, they knew.”

  “They knew? Like, knew? Did you discuss it?”

  “Yes, they knew. And yeah, we discussed it. They accepted it, and accepted me. Wholeheartedly.”

  I was fascinated. “That’s awesome.”

  “As awesome as being an outcast can be, I suppose.”

  “An outcast? If they accepted it--”

  “They did. That says nothing of the rest of the world. Most people can’t accept it. Can’t or don’t, I don’t know which it is.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “People being simple minded, I guess.”

  He shrugged. “Me too.”

  I sat for a moment and looked at him. Franky’s remark about irony came to mind. “So, why
do the show? If you have no interest in me.”

  “I have interest in you.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Not sexually, but I think you’re a lot of fun.”

  I grinned. “I think you’re fun, too.”

  “I guess.” He cleared his throat. “To be truthful, I did it for my career. I really like the modeling thing, and I thought maybe someone would notice me. Maybe I’d get more work out of it.”

  “Maybe you will.”

  He stood, and then reached for my hand. “It’s not at all what I thought it’d be.”

  “Me, neither,” I said as I stood.

  The lens of the camera behind Les caught my attention. It dawned on me that Bobby had filmed our entire conversation. Although at first the camera drew my attention, I reached a point that I became accustomed to it. Or I no longer cared. Either way, I rarely noticed it anymore. I wondered just how much, if any, of our conversation they’d use in the show.

  I leaned closer. “He’s been filming us the entire time,” I whispered.

  He glanced over his shoulder, and then shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “What if Kelli puts it on the show?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ve been hiding it from everyone except for my parents my entire life. Maybe it’s time for me to come out.”

  “Maybe that’s really why you’re here.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe.”

  A thought came to me, and along with it, a rush of comedic emotion. An epiphany, of sorts. “Does Kelli know Randy is gay? Did he say?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “She knows.”

  “What’s funny?”

  He rolled his eyes. “He said she finds it disgusting.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “I have an idea. If you and Randy are up to it, it might be fun.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, nodded at Bobby, and then looked at me. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, I think I like it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Randy was openly gay, and not only comfortable with any and everyone knowing it, he was extremely proud of his sexuality. Rubbing a homophobe’s nose in it, according to him, was a dream come true.

  Les was simply Les. He was bold, brash, and in-your-face. Agreeing to the suggestion I made didn’t come quickly, but after Randy approved of my idea, Les immediately followed.

  I stood in the corner of the four-car garage and tried to be invisible. All but hidden from view of everyone who was present, I felt a like a pervert. The one thing that kept me from leaving was knowing that I had played a big part in organizing the scene. It satisfied me greatly knowing that although I knew the scene was choreographed, Kelli would have no idea.