Standard disclaimer
Firstly this is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. I did a quick check and couldn't find any porn actress by the name of Cindi Suxx but you never know. Jane and Mike Robinson, on the other hand are reasonably common names and, if you're one of them, please be assured I'm not writing about you -- unless, of course, you want it that way!
Secondly this story is a fantasy about incest and light BDSM. If this isn't your cup of tea then don't bother reading any further. Please note that I'm not advocating or opposing either, just writing about them.
Thirdly I'm a Brit and I write about Brits. Both I and all the characters involved have English accents and, in particular, use 'mum' and 'mummy' where our US cousins use 'mom' and 'mommy'.
Finally, all the characters are, of course, over eighteen.
That said, enjoy the story...
*
"Ooh, big boy, fuck me, fuck me up the arse, ram your big fat prick up my bum hole 'till you fill me up!" The voice, my voice, came as clear as day from the lounge. I hadn't heard it in years, I thought it was in my past but, now it seems, it had come back to haunt me.
First let me explain. I'd been in a fix; recently widowed and with the loan sharks circling I needed cash and I needed it fast. The bank were worse than useless, I'd run out of credit everywhere, and I was right out of options. Had I been on my own I probably could have coped but my son, Mike, was ten years old at the time and he had to be my prime concern. Keeping Mike housed, clothed and fed was all I was bothered about; the rest could go hang.
And that's when I saw the add in the listings magazine. I'm no fool; I knew what they meant when they talked about 'glamour' photography but it was a chance for quick cash, enough to get me through, enough to see me back on my feet. Nervously I phoned the number and made an appointment. I was expecting some problems with my age, twenty eight at the time, but, apparently, that wasn't an issue so, two days later, I went down to town and found the back-street office where it all happened.
The interview wasn't what I expected at all. I was ready for sleaze and all my senses were on full alert but Mr Jacobs, the producer, was very straightforward and businesslike. OK, so he had me strip off in his office so that he could 'check me over' but he was so matter of fact about it all it was no more embarrassing than stripping off for the doctor. Apparently he was pleased with what he saw because, with the proviso that I shave my pubes, he offered me a shoot right away. He explained that there was a big market for 'mum next door' shoots and that, as I had no tattoos and my breasts are natural, I was perfect for what he wanted. Payment, well, that depended on how far I was prepared to go. Top wack was for videos featuring anal sex. I blushed at the thought but, when he showed me what he was offering, my resistance started to crumble. With one shoot, one simple shoot, I could pay off all my bills and have a little over. Maybe Mike and I could go for a short holiday; heaven knows we needed one.
But, just before we finished, Mr Jacobs did the one thing that helped me to trust him, the one thing above all others that persuaded me to go ahead.
"Before you sign," he said, "have you thought through exactly what you're doing? Once it's done it's done and, forever after, it will be out there. Of course we'll use a false name but we can't use a false face. Five or ten years down the line this might come back and haunt you. Are you ready for that?"
It might be a sleaze ball industry but Mr Jacobs was no sleaze ball; here he was being genuinely concerned about me. From then on I felt I could really trust him. What he said did stop and think but, what the heck, it would be one little video shoot among so many out there; what were the risks, realistically?
A few days later found me down at the studios ready for my first day's filming. The plot, for what it was worth, was about a young lad sent on some errand to his sexy neighbour's house and she then proceeds to seduce him. The 'young' lad was almost as old as I was but, what the heck, no one is that fussy. It turned out his name was Mark and we actually hit it off pretty well; he had a wicked sense of humour, this was far from his first shoot and helped me get to know the ropes and relax into the part.
And then, once we got going, well, I rather enjoyed it. Jane Robinson, my real name, would never indulge but Cindi Suxx, my screen name, was up for anything and it was quite liberating to indulge in all the dirty, slutty things I'd fantasized about but never, ever dreamed that I'd end up actually doing. Once I'd got into role and become Cindi Suxx it all came naturally and, when we finally got down to it and Mark started fucking my backside, after some initial pain, the anal sex was actually pretty much a turn on and my moans of pleasure weren't entirely put on for the camera. Indeed, by the time we got to the money shot I was disappointed to find that, apparently, it's de rigueur for the guy to shoot his load all over the girls body and I even felt a little cheated when I found out he wasn't going to come inside me.
When it was all over Mr Jacobs congratulated me, said I was a natural, and offered me more work. Now porn star wasn't my first career choice but, well, the money was good and times were hard so I agreed to do two more. Both were pretty much along the same lines as the first one but with different guys each time, in fact the second time was with two different guys. I guessed that this would be the only time I would get the chance to find out what it feels like to be what the trade calls DP'd, or what we mere mortals would think of as fucked both ways at once. In fact, when we got down to it, we spent so much time arranging limbs so that the camera could see the action that there wasn't much actual fucking. I was quite impressed that the boys could keep their hard-ons with all the mucking about going on.
And that was that, or so I thought. I'd paid off my debts, I'd put a few bob in the bank and I'd had a bit of fun. It was time to put Cindi Suxx to rest; time to return to being Jane Robinson and having the sort of career that you can tell your mum about.
And now, eight years later, I've returned home unexpectedly and coming from the lounge is the sound of Cindi Suxx urging the 'boy next door' to fuck her up the bum hole. Quietly I closed the front door and went to peer through into the lounge. Mike was sprawled out on the sofa; his laptop was wired up to the TV, his trousers were around his knees and he was busy wanking off as Cindi Suxx rode anal cowboy. Just as Mr Jacobs had warned me my past had caught me out.
"Having fun?" I asked softly. Mike's reaction was priceless. He spun round and, in doing so, fell off the sofa and on to the floor. He clasped his hands over his prick, god knows why, and blushed a bright shade of scarlet. All the while Cindi Suxx was reaching a noisy orgasm and urging 'big boy' to fuck her harder.
"Mum!" Mark cried out. "What are you doing here?"
"I didn't have any appointments this afternoon so I thought I come home and catch up on my tax returns. Look, can you switch that off please?"
Mark did something with his laptop and the video stopped. For a long, long moment we just stared at each other.
"I'm going to put the kettle on," I said and I turned and headed for the kitchen. I heard Mike going back and forth to his room and when I returned to the lounge it was as if nothing had happened. Well, until I turned the TV on and got no signal.
"Mike!" I called out," the TV's broken, come and fix it."
Sheepishly Mike came out of his room and into the lounge. After a couple of minutes of him fiddling with wires the TV burst back into life. He stood up and was about to head back to his room but I stopped him. We needed to sort this out and, realistically, the sooner the better.
"So, you've found out about my little secret," I said.
"Mum! How could you?" Mike asked. "I mean..."
"How could I? I'm not the one caught with his pants down having a good old wank over pictures of his mother. I wouldn't be so sure you have the moral high ground here," I started but, as soon as I did, I could see his face drop. Ever since the death of his dad in that road accident Mike and I have been close and now, with him being eighteen and all, I could feel us drifting apart. If I bawled him out it would just make things worse. The last thing I wanted was for this to drive a wedge between us.
"Please, Mike," I continued, "come and sit down. We need to get past this, to sort things out between us." I patted the sofa next to me and, reluctantly, Mike sat down.
"Look, honey, it's not my proudest moment but it was a long time ago and I badly needed the money. Where do you think I got the cash to open the tanning salon from? Anyway, no one got hurt, and, apart from you, nobody knows anything about it, so where's the problem?"
