"My Girlfriend’s A Pervert!"

The young woman laid naked across the small desk lets her head fall back in rapture, spilling a wave of very fine flaxen locks as the gentleman on the other side stands between her parted legs and with a firm hold on either thigh, thrust harder into her. The blonde writhes on the shaking table and runs her small, well-manicured hands over her smooth stomach up to her obviously artificially perfect breasts.

Beatriz Batista sits upside down on the couch, legs splayed, one dangled off the backrest the other over the armrest, almost mimicking that blonde on the t.v. screen, except she is fully clothed in pajamas bottoms and a thin cotton “Mack Daddy” t-shirt that is, by the looks of it, well-loved and well-worn. A hand lingers over the box of half eaten chocolates on the floor and its idle counterpart stays secure on her belly.

She’s not quite sure how to feel about this blonde. Surely she’s a great actress when it comes to feigning her moans and has a beautifully lithe body, but she lacks charisma, there’s no charm in her “come hither” bedroom blue eyes or slutty smile, and some makeshift, clumsy “chemistry” between her and her co-stars. She’s trying so hard to play vixen when she really comes off ditzy and confused. Making her the lead actress in this feature may not have been the wisest thing, but the studio’s getting paid anyway; everyone loves blondes with slim figures and fake tits.

The woman caresses her own glorious rosy-tipped tan mounds as her co-star pounds harder and faster, grunting out such fond terms of endearment as “tender little slut” and “tight cunt”. She moans louder, still without a touch of sincerity.

Truth to told, Beatriz had considered porn as a career at least once or twice and it didn’t seem too bad, but then the tragedy of a porn star’s lifestyle comes to mind and she thinks better of it. All of these people are disposable and nothing is sadder than some old painted whore with a renovated body writhing and moaning like this young chick to some young buck. The job had no future. Sure, Jenna Jameson’s a well known porn personality, but most girls ain’t that lucky.

She was also almost certain that she would get bored with it in under a month. All the movies are basically all the same and all the breaks and pauses between takes can definitely cool down your fervor. The director tells you when and how to fuck and suck. Fucking shouldn’t be a chore, it should be enjoyable and done the way you want it done. That and she just couldn’t fuck some guy she just met for five minutes, there’s nothing there. She doesn’t “fall in love” with the guy she spends the night with, but she definitely has some feeling for him. You can’t fuck without feeling, or at least she can’t.

…now for the money shot…

And she definitely could not pretend to enjoy some guy she just met spray his jizz on her, no matter how many millions of dollars she made from it. The lingering hand stretches and presses the fast forward button; she never did like this part…

“Still watching that trash?”

She sighs with irritation and replies snippily.

“Yep, got tired of masturbating in bed. Feels better on the couch.”

The speaker, Seth, disregards her comment; he knows they have an agreement about that. He sets his shoulder bag down on a counter and hangs up his coat. He goes through his procedure of taking a seat next to Beatriz without looking at the screen.

Seth is Beatriz’s “boyfriend”, but he’s more of a roommate than a beau. Their relationship came from convenience instead of a connection. They didn’t really match and didn’t really try to. Seth is, for lack of a better term, square. Very handsome, but square. Also bookish and self-righteous. Avid follower of the Atkins Diet (ugh!) And Catholic. Catholic enough to oppose porn, the gay or any other alternative lifestyle (which she thought was a terrible, yet typical ruse), drinking, and smoking (tobacco and other intoxications), but was certainly not Catholic enough to refrain from taking great pride in his appearance or oppose pre-marital sex (Beatriz never tempted him into doing anything he never thought of doing).

Maybe she’s his guilty pleasure. She savors that thought, that knocks him down a few pegs and she likes that. She can tolerate him more in that light.

He is a college student. What he is studying Beatriz forgets and doesn’t care enough to ask again because she doesn’t care enough to remember. He’s a social climber, only becomes friends with those he feel will do him well; make him look good if he mentions them in conversation to another step on the social ladder.

He’s more pathetic than he would like to realize, but might be more likable if he did.

She remembers when he “caught” her viddying pornazzo. She wasn’t really trying to be secretive about watching it because she doesn’t feel ashamed and the thought did cross her mind about him finding cassettes, but she just figured he’d want to watch a few and that didn’t bother her. Anyway, he came home from classes and she had gone in the kitchen to get a drink and left the movie on during a very graphic scene. She was in the doorframe with her refreshing glass only to bump into him. He looked ashamed and angry and then started to berate her for watching people commit such “demeaning, filthy lust”. Called her a SINNER! and she had to chew some ice to keep from screaming HYPOCRITE! right back, but his diatribe amused her so she let him continue. He left in a huff, muttering something about going to confessional, and she didn’t laugh until he left after making a big deal of slamming the door.

He came back, calmer, and they talked, him doing most of it, about this situation. He (reluctantly) apologized about losing his cool and acting so tyrannical, although she didn’t feel the whole thing to be that serious. He told her she could watch it, like she needed HIS permission to do anything, as long as she didn’t masturbate. Beatriz never masturbated while she watched porn, for some reason she didn’t feel like doing that until she was trying to go to sleep and Seth wasn’t there or in the other room studying, but she just nodded and kept her mouth shut. She avoided talking to him about things this touchy whenever she could because he’d always make it an argument.

Now, he sat next to her with his arms folded securely across his chest and his head over his shoulder so he doesn’t catch anything in his peripheral vision.

“Turn it off.” He says it quietly, though sternly.

“You’re going to miss your girlfriend.” She teases.

“Turn it off.”

“Not even a please?”

“Turn it off, please.” The please is very forced.

“Why?”

Frustrated sigh. She’s toying with him and he’s taking the bait.

“I would like to talk to you with your full attention.”

She sighs, presses the stop button with her thumb and sits up.

“All right, you have my full attention.”

He finally looks at her and she realizes just how beautiful he is and would caress his clean shaven cheek and press a kiss to his full lipped mouth if he wasn’t being really “dicky” right now. Maybe later, maybe.

“I know it’s short notice, but I’m going to my parents’ house for the Holidays and just wanted to know if you’re going to be ok by yourself.”

“I’ll try to make it without you but I’m not promising anything.” She loves being sarcastic to him because he can’t filter it out.

“Ok, but I’ll leave the phone number to their house just in case you want to reach me.”

Nod from her.

“Well,” he’s getting up, “all right.”

He walks into the bedroom and she screams a muted “FUCK YOU!” at his back.