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Her breasts are heaving, her body soaked with sweat. A man she does not know grasps for her in the bright hot lights shining down from them above. He climbs aboard her like a steaming locomotive for he cares not for who she is or where she comes from he only desires the friction and the money he receives. And, the accolades and future award his crummy job might bring.

She grasps for him, thinking herself wanton and sexy for she is equipped with a massive ego the size of Texas. And why would she not be when all the actors remind her that she is highly sought out in the industry? Pawing and groping they moan and groan screaming out like the old banshees in crappy black and white horror films. They stretch their bodies to the limits emulating scenes written on cue cards from a cheap budget script. Each his or her own technique.

Cameras zoom in catching every possible angle every naughty deed. The man half faces the camera increasing his pace and eventually throws his head back in wanton release. In the end, twelve seconds is all the man can hold himself back for and the blonde, his life time screen mate pouts her rosy red lips as she hugs the sheets to her sticky twin surfaces.

Again the director yells cut. Actors go to their respective rooms and change only to do the same thing all over again with others they met only once at auditions. For the adult movie industry, the rules never change. The male brunette goes to soundstage sixty eight and she heads over to forty five.

They each end up in a bed with the same colored satin sheets doing the same boring routine over again. At the end of the day the blonde retreats home to her cats and the hairs sticking to her bathrobe as she watches the tube. Tapes stuck in her ancient VCR helping her to work her craft for the next day. And of course her own brand of the usual cherry mint ice cream and a vibrating apparatus to ease the ache left behind at the studio at unrequited release.

Her partner the male brunette, goes home having his own sweaty rendezvous with his wife of fifteen years. Again the man lasts, only slightly longer a bare twenty seconds this time. His wife rolls over to her side sharing a secret smile. She is not perturbed in the least. She is secure in the knowledge that she gets her jollies elsewhere with her husband's company president.

Learn more about this author, Angela Arno.
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