Sexual // Styles

uno

Happy birthday to the most annoying and beutiful little avocado eggshell. I love you bourbonstyles

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The car ride was awkward. Mia kept staring at me and her driver staring at her. Watch us die in a car crash. I kept fidgeting with my thumbs, thinking about what was going to happen when we reached this 'compound' place. Was she going to do something other than have my penis penetrate her? Would she make me use my tongue and fingers? I wasn't exactly neglecting the thought, but I would surely embarrass myself, I wouldn't know what to do. Reading about sexual actions could only take you so far.

"Harry, we're here." Her smooth voice makes me look at her. Her door opened and the driver helped her out. So much attention for a porn star. I opened my own door, looking at the stones beneath my feet, surrounded by fresh grass. How the grass was still alive after all the cold was beyond me. I look up, my eyes widening at the house, mansion in front of me. The doors were massive, white and gold as the rest of the house. Surely it could pass as Lady Gaga's house. The house stretched out vastly on the territory, the black gate behind the driveway we stood at. Small trees and bushes were spotted here and there. She walked up the stairs and I followed her, seeinf the small glass plate on the door that had a capital E.

"I don't think anyones here. Nobody really stays in on December. Only if they have to shoot." She informs, opening the doors of the house.

Describing the whole place would take me too long. It was simply large and beautiful. Many rooms for many uses. Most for filming porn. We walked up the stairs, me feeling as if I was dirtying the milk white carpet that rolled down the stairs. "My room is on the third floor. I'll see what I can do to get yours in that floor too. That is, if you accept." Was she mad? Of course id agree to it after seeing with what kind of luxuries a porn star lives with. But a read over the contract over night wouldn't harm me.

After walking up the stairs, she leads down a hallway with numerous doors. The walls of the hallways are red with a gold design and wood floors. Small chandliers on the walls. She plugs in a key to the metal knob, twisting until the door opens. She instructs me to close and lock the door and I do so after going in.

I envied her room for being bigger than the shit hole I rented. Her bed was huge, king sized surely. The four corners with a towering wooden pole in each one. Sheer curtains surround the sides of the bed. A gap at the end letting me see the stack of pillows and variety of covers. Her dresser is big and wooden, frames and stuff on top. A big tv hanging from a wall and a vanity with a mirror. Perfumes and make-up littering the bottom. An open door that leads to a bathroom and a closed one which im guessing to be her closet. She shakes off the heavy coat from her shoulders, setting it at a couch in from of the tv. I could get used to this.

"You like?" She asks, sitting on the same couch and taking off her heels. I nod, standing there. "All you gotta do is sign a contract, Harry."

"I don't think I'll get something likt this the day after I sign." I wave around. "Don't I have to have like a reputation or something to have this?"

"You're my friend. I could get my dad to do anything for you." She shrugs, leaning back on the arm of the sofa. "Sit." She encourages, tapping the place next to hers.

"Your dad?"

"Dariel Velard. Co-owner." Well shit.

"No wonder you seem so important around here." I tell her, leaning my elbows on my thighs and staring at her.

"I guess." She lifts her brow, scratching her neck. The back of her right palm was covered in a tattoo. Some kind of tribal or hippie design, the black acrylic of her nails the same colour as the ink. "So, if you're ready." She places a hand on my thigh, squeezing.