“I’m not one to boast, but it is kind of awesome.”
Andi snorted then went quiet, her head resting on my shoulder. I actually thought she was asleep until she asked me to put her down so she could find her keys. I unlocked her front door and reached the security key pad right before it was started screaming, “intruder alert”. Andi stumbled up the stairs to her apartment, and I reset the alarm before following her up. I hoped I wasn’t being presumptuous in assuming I could crash at her place, on the couch of course. There would be absolutely no sex, none whatsoever. As Andi stumbled towards her bed, she began to peel off her clothes, starting with her boots. I would have tried to stop her, I should have tried to stop her... Oh who was I kidding, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to stop her. The thin top was whipped off over her head and her jeans inched down her bare legs. She collapsed onto her bed wearing nothing but a sexy red strapless bra and a matching pair of red lace panties with little bows on each hip. Fuck me, my cock was has hard as forged steel and straining with impatience to get out of my jeans. She was supposed to wear cotton-tail panties, damn it! Friends without benefits should not wear lace!
“Let me see if I have this right. You have no female friends who you haven’t fucked, except me of course,” Andi began rambling from the bed. “Your job has you naked, donating sperm but not for babies. You read scripts occasionally because you are kind of an actor and you have an awesome dick.” I took a few tentative steps towards her, my eyes slowly mapping her body, every soft delicate curve. “Oh, and let’s not forget you have won a * eating award and carry the title Dr. Anal.” Her glazed drunken eyes snapped to mine, a frown creating a small crevice between her eyes. “Are you a porn star?”
Chapter 8
ANDI
Yeah, I was most definitely butt-toast as Decker so eloquently put it. My thoughts had gathered in a tornado of vague clues Decker had been gifting me since I arrived in New York a week ago. Somehow they all led to the same conclusion, porn star. I watched Decker’s reaction, my eyes squinting to keep him in focus, readying myself for the moment he burst into laughter and told me I was bat shit crazy. I continued to concentrate on the shocked expression he wore, but it wasn’t followed with laughter or denial. “Holy shit, you’re a porn star?” I shrieked. I had been going over this in my mind for the last week and not once had it occurred to me that Decker might be a porn star. I mean, A FREAKIN’ PORN STAR? Who does that? Decker rubbed his neck awkwardly, trying desperately not to look at my almost naked body. Oh shit, I was half naked, laying on a bed, in front of my hot friend, WHO IS A FUCKING PORN STAR! “You don’t have a mustache,” was my first observation.
Decker rolled his eyes. “We’re not living in the seventies, Country, very few porn stars have mustaches.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows and took him in, tall and wide, sex on a very lickable stick. His hair was untamed around his handsome face. Dark eyes that roamed over my body like a predator. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a while, a healthy dose of scruff giving him an almost earthly, mountain man look. He didn’t look anything like a damn porn star.
His eyes darted nervously around the room before settling on a ratty old shirt discarded on the floor by my bed. He picked it up and threw it my way. “Can you, like, cover a little of that.” His finger drew a line in the air up and down my body.
“I would have thought an adult film star wouldn’t be so shy around a little feminine flesh.”
Decker gave me a small smile. “Country, unless you want me sinking my cock into your sweet little *, I suggest you cover up a little. You are too damn tempting to be lying there like that.”
I glanced at the shirt then back at Decker, hesitating. I mean, my number one fantasy, since I was old enough to understand and truly appreciate the word sex, was the thought of sex with Decker. Decker Steele…the porn star. Reality smashed into my brain with a quick hard bitch slap and I pulled the shirt over my head. He slept with women, for money, on film. Like hell was he touching me. Once my shirt was in place, Decker seemed to relax a little. He still looked anxious, almost youthful as he stood in the middle of my apartment with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“So,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you a famous porn star?” Of all the things I could have asked, I asked that?
Decker shrugged. “I’ve won a few awards, and I get noticed occasionally, like tonight.”
“Pussy eating award,” I murmured. The thought of Decker so expertly devouring me sent a shiver through my body. Decker leaned against the back of the couch, putting a little more room between us.
“That was one of them,” he said with an arrogant grin.