Tiffany
I met my nightmare a few years ago. Who I could have been if the fates had been more cruel.
I used to model for art classes. A friend of mine got me started. She showed me Rodin’s sculpture portrait of Balzac. There he stood, huge potbelly, bearded, prominent penis! Proud, ‘look at me! I’m fat, I’m old, my complexion sucks, I’m a genius, I get laid all the time. I’m alpha.’
If he could do it, I could do it. I found I like the honesty and the power of being the center of attention. It brought in a little money, too which at the time was welcome.
Anyway, so, there at the studio I met Tiffany. She was sitting next to some guy (she said they were friends.) Silent, I forgot his name. Fatter than I was, wearing a loose flowing striped shirt, red-cheeked and laughing. She reminded me of the fat lady in the circus, there to be gawked at and exhibited.
We talked. Rather, I sat next to her and she talked. About how she made a living modeling and “doing other things.”
She asked me if I wanted work. She told me about the house parties she worked at. All big women and the men paying clients for our company, there was a hot tub and lots of bedrooms and very safe, no worries about violence.
I asked “well, do I have to fuck them?” And she said “no, no one is forced to do anything. But, yeah, that was the general idea.” I told her I’d think about it. She gave me her number.
The next time Tiffany entered my life was a few months later. My boyfriend and I rented a porn film; “Behind the Green Door II.” There she was, getting laid by four guys at once.
Her best friend, I forgot his name, was in the film too. In the last scene, we find out THAT HE HAS A VAGINA! Surprise!
My boyfriend and I broke up shortly after that. I guess that watching a porn film was okay; knowing the actors was not.
No comments:
Post a Comment