Milked

Loren | Logan gets f'd by his stepdad

Saturday's temperatures meant that outside felt like the inside of an oven. All of the workers were supposed to get to the studio an hour ahead of shooting to prep for "Logan Gets Fucked by His Stepdad," and I was nearly running late because I felt so sluggish in the Phoenix heat.

Really, I'd been prepping since the day before, making sure I ate only foods high in fiber so that my plumbing could be in good order. Shane usually helped me with that, making me delicious meals using ingredients like salmon and spinach; but he'd been acting weird as fuck, and I still felt enraged that he'd agreed with that chick about how porn was "feeding the perverse hunger of humanity," and that he thought I was stupid for giving Scary Jock Guy money to keep him quiet about my porn persona. The two of us had barely been texting, but I had told him that I would come over after my shoot. Maybe after my shoot, I would be ready to forgive him.

In the morning, I'd given myself an at-home water enema, which at this point was second nature to me. My asshole was definitely clean, which was necessary since it would receive some closeup coverage in HD.

Now as I drove on the road, I realized my gas tank was nearly empty, so got into the turn lane so I could go left into a gas station. This little excursion would make me a few minutes late. Fuck.

Even though a couple of cars were coming from the other direction, I deduced I had time to make the left turn into the gas station. One of the oncoming cars, some shiny Lexus, honked at me, and I held my hand out of my window to flip him off.

Then of course that motherfucker turned right into the gas station. I hoped this wasn't going to turn into one of those road rage incidents where I ended up getting shot in my own car. Why had I answered to the impulse to flip him off?

I didn't have the time to worry about it. I parked, got out, and started fiddling with my credit card at the pump, hoping that ignoring the problem would make it go away.

From behind me, I heard a door slam and a deep voice say, "Nice fucking driving, punk."

Turning, I found a man who looked like he was in his late forties, tall and buff and handsome, with sandy hair and angry eyes. Something slightly familiar about him made me pause. He probably had a nice smile, but he looked like someone who you had to earn a smile from, and earning his smile didn't seem easy, especially when you weren't a pretty girl. In fact, he looked like someone you didn't want to fuck with. I decided to swallow my pride. "Sorry, man, my depth perception isn't what it used to be."

He scoffed. And then he turned around to go fill up his own tank.

After waiting forever for the slow-as-fuck gas pump, all the while feeling discomforted by the handsome road-rager getting his own gas in the distance, I finally shut my gas tank and took off.

The rest of the drive to the studio went well, until I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the same Lexus driving behind me.

The guy drove behind me all the way to Vaughn's, where I parked, got out of my car, and ran inside.

"You're late Loren," Vaughn said as soon as he saw me. I was about to tell him I was in serious fear of my life, that I was being stalked by some road-rage murderer, when he said, "Don't worry; so is your co-star." He nodded to the entrance.

"Co-star?" I turned to look over at the road rage guy coming through the door. He gave Vaughn a quick nod before walking over to one of the changing areas. My co-star. Well, this shoot was starting off awkwardly.

"Bjorn Anderson," Vaughn told me. "Don't you know him? He was Zeus in that Zeus and Ganymede porn that everyone was freaking out over a few months ago. We're lucky to have him. Anyways, here's the script. Read it over, because there are some minor revisions from the one I gave you earlier this week. Your outfit's over there. We're gonna film the money shot last, by the way, because your hair will get soaked."