Red light

1. Synergistic effect (Tobirama)

I didn't know how many times I had heard that porn was fake. That the settings were fake. That the fucking was fake. That the orgasms were fake.

I don't know where that came from because nothing I did was, in fact, ever fake. I was just so good.

There wasn't always chemistry between me and the female actor, but if there wasn't, I saw it as my job as a hired professional to make sure the fucking was good anyway. Not just good, but so mind-blowing the female actor would never find satisfaction like the one provided by me anywhere in the industry ever again. I believed that was the key to my success; my capacity to fuck the girls senseless made the films real because they weren't faking anything. My films were hugely popular, entailing I was a massive name within the porn industry, only accepting roles that gave me hefty sums of money. The girls dreamed of shooting with me.

The girl beneath me was sweet, full of soft curves with shoulder-length, brown hair and a kind face. She was clutching my arms as if there was no tomorrow but gaining no grip as they consisted of bone and muscle and skin and nothing else; there was nothing to grab on to as I worked above her. As I thrusted, I lifted her breast lightly with my hand, sucked on an erect, brown nipple causing her to scream, and with one final, harsh thrust she came, grabbing onto my white hair and pulling in desperation.

I pulled out before she could finish, turned her over, took her from behind, thrusted to her screams until I came inside her with a grunt, grabbing onto her soft waist.

She turned her face round, desperate for a kiss which I gave her, playing with her tongue with my tongue piercing outside of our lips for the cameras.

"Good. Good we have what we need."

I stopped the kiss, pulled out.

"No!!" she whined.

I smirked at her, wrestled her on to her back, pinned her wrists down, kissed her again despite us being done filming, making sure I didn't put too much weight on her as I was close to two metres and packed with muscle. She moaned in surprise as I pinned her down which caused me to groan; I enjoyed her as much as she was enjoying me.

"Get dressed", the director said, to no avail and he knew it; I was desired enough by the directors for me to be able to be able do whatever I wanted on set after we were done filming without any consequences.

The team left me to it.

I took a bit too much time with her because I didn't even have time to shower in the hotel room where we had filmed before I had to leave. So I just pulled a long-sleeved, black T-shirt over my strong torso, tousled my hair, naturally so fair it was almost white, and took a good pair of black trousers that looked incredible with my Dr Martens boots. I still smelled of sex, but that couldn't be helped. The cologne I used did, however, enhance that smell into something heavenly, the combination of the strong, sweaty smell of having fucked someone with the musk of the perfume creating a synergistic effect so that one and one wasn't two or even three but a much, much stronger number. I took a green apple from a bowl in the hotel room and bit down on it, ensured I had a package of chewing gum in my coat pocket, and left the hotel room, half an hour after the girl left to go home to get ready as well.

We were both invited to the same party, but of course not going together. I never went together with anyone. At thirty, many men might panic about settling down. Me, however, had no such ambitions. In fact, the thought of settling down caused me great discomfort. I enjoyed my freedom, my promiscuity way too much. Settling down was not an option for me as long as the porn industry was still part of my life, and I planned on letting it be for a long time.