STARTED JAN 2023--
MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT. Viewer Discretion is advised.
Priscilla Pearl Wolfe is a Pornstar.
Halen Elle used to be.
That is until the apathetically charming jackass with a back pocket full of guitar picks and skittles moves...
"Honestly, floating, it's all good to me. I feel quite innocuously, being peacefully..." ♪ Fish • Billie Marten
FOND
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Halen got me one of Blue's fresh baked chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen, brewed me a hot cup of chamomile tea, laid me down in my bed, propped up against the headboard, and started massaging my ankles and feet with lotion in silence.
To say I'm thrown off guard and a little uncomfortable is an understatement.
He basically called me a dumb bitch and told me to shut the fuck up and eat my damn cookie. Except, his version was, "Save yourself the exhaustion of telling me off. Lay back, enjoy your treat and rest your eyes. Chamomile tea should soothe you nicely. I'm going to rub your feet now. Only speak if I am too rough."
I'm dumbfounded.
I've partaken in aftercare my entire Porn career. I'm used to the hugging and holding that comes after a scene of any kind, no matter how small. I'm used to the chit chat and maybe even a meal together afterward. But... Halen has taken me to an entire other level of it. And even though it's not like he's bowing before me and calling me 'your majesty', I feel very prestigious and fancy.
You'd think I'd love that. But with him, it feels different.
"Ouch, that hurts." I wince when he rubs his thumb deeply into the ridged muscles of my heel, hitting a particularly achy place. He keeps his head down and doesn't let up on pressure, and I whimper, gearing up to tell him off, until it suddenly fades away and I feel a burning, refreshing pulse of relief in the weight of my ankle. I blink and gape at him, "My goodness. You really are a magician. What on earth just happened?"
"That, Priscilla, is the consequence of wearing heels every day." He grumbles stoically, massaging up toward my calves. "They are awfully pretty, but you're hurting yourself. I do hope you know that."
"Yeah, well... pretty hurts."
"You're just as beautiful without your heels." He says it like an elderly man scolds his attitude ridden wife on past arguments, "It would not kill you to go barefoot every once and while to save your poor toes."
"First of all... it would."
He grunts in disapproval.
"Second of all, if I'm without my heels, I'm basically naked, and that's no way to go about my daily business, now is it?" I tip my head down.
"I think it is perfectly practical." He glares up through his thick lashes at me, his bold eyes wide, "Being able to marvel at your body in the nude every day would bring both you and I, great satisfaction. I wouldn't utter another complaint again. One look at you at the start of the morning would silence my argumentative temptations for the day. Therefore forever."
