Chapter Text
“I can’t believe people get off to this garbage.”
Caitlyn flips through the script one last time and bites back a laugh. She gets paid to spread her legs in front of a camera, so she’s not exactly in any position to clutch her pearls over someone else’s kink. But nothing sells better than a corny, lesbian cuck fantasy, which, honestly, she finds a little depressing.
“Really? You can’t believe it?” A sarcastic voice comes from the doorway.
A vaguely familiar woman appears, just in time to catch the end of Caitlyn’s rant, and their eyes meet in the mirror as Caitlyn’s makeup artist applies the last bit of blush to her cheeks.
“I’m not doubting the demand.” Caitlyn sets the papers in her lap. “I just don’t understand what makes the plot so compelling.”
Of all the scripts Caitlyn has read, this one might be the least offensive scenario she’s ever had to perform. Not that offensive is a particularly useful metric, but being paid to act out a scene doesn’t mean she has to find the premise appealing.
“Yeah, neither do I.”
The woman strolls into the dressing room, and her robe, which is already doing fuck-all at keeping anything covered, slides even further down her shoulder with every step she takes. She leans her hip against the vanity, making herself impossible for Caitlyn to ignore. Her makeup is finished, her hair is done, but she hasn’t dressed yet. Unless there’s something under her robe that Caitlyn can’t see, which she doubts.
“But I’d still watch you get put through a mattress, even if getting cucked’s not really my thing.”
To emphasize her point, her gaze drops to the low neckline of Caitlyn’s top, which is a generous word for a scrap of fabric held up by two dainty strings. The costume department has yet to dress her in something that doesn’t display her rack front and center. Not that Caitlyn can blame them. She’s not above admitting they’re her best assets.
“Oh. Um. Thank you?” Caitlyn says.
Given her line of work, it takes a lot to throw Caitlyn off balance. There are only so many positions she can be origami’d into and bodily fluids she can dodge (or not, depending on the director’s request) before things stop catching her by surprise. But for whatever reason, the compliment knocks her sideways, and Caitlyn finally remembers where she’s seen her before.
“Sorry, too crass?” Vi asks.
The tips of Caitlyn’s ears are warm, probably already red, and she untucks her hair to cover them before Vi can notice. She corrects her posture, trying to look more composed than she is.
“I’m a porn star,” Caitlyn says. “You’ll have to say something a little more inappropriate to scandalize me.”
The artist working on Caitlyn’s makeup takes that as her cue to leave.
The impish smile on her face widens. “I’m Vi, by the way.”
“I know,” Caitlyn says, wishing she’d waited a half a second longer to answer. The swiftness makes Vi grin. Caitlyn clears her throat. “I mean, I figured. I saw your name on the call sheet.”
And maybe Caitlyn Googled her a few nights ago, watched a couple of clips, and did a little digging through her socials. She’s newer to the industry, with maybe two dozen films under her belt, all girl-on-girl, most involving straps and tribbing, usually both, and occasionally at the same time, depending on the number of people in the scene. Vi is more often than not the one wearing the harness, but Caitlyn’s favorites are the ones where she isn’t.
She always does a little homework before a shoot, sue her.
“I’m Caitlyn.”
“I know,” Vi echoes, matching Caitlyn’s quickness. Then belatedly, “Big fan. I saw that movie you did recently, but I forgot the name. I know the title was fucking ridiculous, though.”
Caitlyn doesn’t quite look at her. “No Holes Barred.”
“Yes! That one. Sevika pinning you down and fucking you on the mat? Gave my wrist a workout watching that.”
Caitlyn stares, her mouth slightly open. If Vi’s goal has been to get a reaction out of her, she’s finally succeeded. Caitlyn laughs to hide her shock. “Well…I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I definitely did.” Vi grins, nodding to the pages sitting in Caitlyn’s lap. “And now I get to enjoy you myself.”
Right, Curvy Piltie Slut Gets Fucked by the Pool Boy. Vulgar and somehow even less tasteful than the movie they were just talking about. Caitlyn snickers. “Lucky you.”
“Lucky us.” Vi gestures between them with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’ve been told more than once that I’m pretty good at what I do.”
Caitlyn thinks of all the videos she’s watched, of Vi working her way through one actress after another, drilling them with more precision than most performers who’ve been around for nearly a decade longer. It stirs something low in Caitlyn’s stomach, but she refuses to give Vi the satisfaction of seeing it.
“I’ve been fucked by women who talked a big game and failed to deliver,” Caitlyn says, feeling the slow return of her composure. “So I’d be careful about overselling yourself.”
Vi folds her arms over her chest, looking eager to take that as a challenge.
A knock against the door.
“Get moving, ladies! If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, save it for the camera,” Mel warns. Her footsteps echo down the hall, but neither woman moves until the sound disappears completely.
“Have you worked with Mel before?” Caitlyn asks. Vi blinks, not expecting the change in topic after the direction their conversation had been heading. Caitlyn adds, “The director.”
Vi pauses to think. She shifts her weight to her other foot then shakes her head. “Uh, nope. First time.”
“I have,” Caitlyn says. She adjusts in her seat and leans forward, enough to offer Vi a generous view of her cleavage. “She knows exactly which positions make me look best, how far I can stretch and bend.”
This time, it’s Vi whose mouth is left hanging.
“I don’t think the story is winning any awards, but…I do think you’ll find the staging very much to your liking,” Caitlyn says.
“Is that so,” Vi mumbles, suddenly not so smug.
Caitlyn stands unhurriedly, giving Vi time to appreciate the full length of her.
“She’s also very lenient with improvisation,” Caitlyn adds.
Vi wets her lips, her eyes tracing the silhouette of Caitlyn’s figure for several drawn-out seconds. When she speaks, her voice is rougher than before. “How much trouble do you think I’d be in if I bent you over this vanity and fucked you right now?”
Most people don’t say much before filming, aside from the usual small talk and a bit of flirting to make things a little less awkward. But this might be the most brazen thing anyone has ever said to her without being hired to read it off a shitty script. Ignoring the coiling feeling between her legs, Caitlyn is tempted to let Vi have her way with her.
But she doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“Like Mel said, let’s save it for the camera.”
-
Caitlyn grimaces as she says her line (Jayce should really stick to acting, if this dialogue is any indication of his writing ability), but she covers it up smoothly, leaning in to press her lips against Maddie’s. It’s a chaste kiss, only meant to establish their on-screen marriage before Caitlyn gets railed by someone who is very much not her on-screen wife.
“Cut!” Mel says, and Caitlyn promptly wipes Maddie’s saliva from her lips. “Alright, good enough. Let's get everyone outside.”
The crew moves into the backyard, hauling their equipment with them to get set up for the next shot. The crew consists of about a dozen people, including audio techs, assistants, and everyone else needed to keep things going. It’s not the smallest team Caitlyn has worked with, but nowhere near the production scale of some movies she has done in the past. The Orifice comes to mind.
As Caitlyn watches everyone shuffle their things into place, an assistant hands Vi a skimmer, giving her something somewhat useful to hold while she stands by the pool.
Vi leans closer, squinting in the harsh light like her sunglasses aren’t sitting right there on her head. “On a scale of one to ten, how convincing is the costume?”
Caitlyn looks her up and down, pretending to give the question genuine thought.
“A four.” Caitlyn slides the glasses over Vi’s eyes. “Maybe a five now.”
With a finger, Vi nudges the glasses higher on her nose and smiles. It’s strangely endearing, enough that Caitlyn briefly forgets all the filthy things Vi had said earlier, along with all the filthy things they’re about to do to each other soon.
“I give you a seven.”
Caitlyn’s stare narrows. “A seven?"
“Mhm.” Vi appraises her in return. “Only because you are criminally overdressed.”
Caitlyn lets out an amused huff and shakes her head. She’s in the skimpiest bikini she thinks she’s ever worn, and it’s only a matter of time before it inevitably comes off. But Vi, by comparison, is showing significantly less skin. Her tank top reveals toned arms and tattoos that Caitlyn wasn’t able to see earlier, but she forces herself to look away before Vi has the chance to notice her staring.
Once the cameras and microphones are where they need to be, Mel moves Vi and Caitlyn into position. Caitlyn lies back on the lounge chair while Vi waits by the pool, absently poking at the water with the skimmer until Mel calls action.
The scene starts with Caitlyn lazing in the sun, pretending to read as the first camera slowly pans over her body. The second one focuses on Vi, who looks visibly more interested in Caitlyn than in tending to the pool. They eye fuck each other for a bit—which honestly doesn’t require much acting from either of them—until Mel pushes things along, motioning Vi to move.
“Hey,” Vi adds a little gravel to the word, and Caitlyn nearly laughs. Is this what Vi thinks a pool boy sounds like? She manages not to let the laugh escape, only because she’s had enough of Mel calling cut.
“Hi,” Caitlyn says, setting the book on the table beside her.
“I just finished up,” Vi says, in character. “I got the leaves out, vacuumed the bottom, and I shocked the water, so you’re probably not gonna want to get in until tomorrow.”
Caitlyn gives Vi a (scripted) once-over. “And what will that cost me?”
“A hundred bucks. But your wife’s card is already on file so you don’t need to worry about it.”
Only Jayce would think to include a line about billing details and preferred payment methods.
“Are you sure I don’t owe you anything?” Caitlyn moves until she’s sitting at the edge of her chair. Vi, still standing, towers over her, looking down with hazy, unfocused eyes.
“You mean—for the service?” Vi stammers. The shyness is more believable than Caitlyn expects. “No, you’re all set.”
She gives Vi another obvious appraisal for the camera. Her attention lingers first on the bright red swim trunks before traveling upward, over the dark water spots on Vi’s tank, the tattoo on her neck, and the glasses perched messily in her hair. It’s a simple outfit, the kind Caitlyn could probably find on anyone wandering the beach, but Vi does an exceptional job of making a wife beater look better than it should.
Caitlyn hums. “What do you think about helping me with something that isn’t pool related?”
“Depends what it is.”
Caitlyn answers by loosening the knot of her bikini top. It gives way easily, still covering everything it should, but not as much as before. There’s a pause, one longer than the script requires, before Vi remembers to speak.
“Oh. Yeah.” Vi nods eagerly. “Yeah, I can help with that.”
“Cut!”
With a swift tug, Caitlyn reties the knot, choosing to keep herself dressed until the cameras are rolling again. Vi seems mildly disappointed by that decision.
They move to a shadier part of the patio, where Mel walks them through the choreography beat by beat. She tells Vi where to put her hands, when she’s allowed to remove what little remains of Caitlyn’s clothes, and at what point she should go down on her.
“Just make it look like you like each other, that’s all I’m after,” Mel says, returning to her spot beside the cameraman. Once the sex begins, she’ll start giving sharper instructions, but at this stage, Mel’s directions are fairly loose.
“I think we can manage that.” Vi flashes Caitlyn that earnest smile.
Despite this being their first time working together, Caitlyn has found Vi to be surprisingly easy to click with. She’s filmed with other actresses more than once, but there’s usually some lingering awkwardness that Caitlyn can never get past.
Caitlyn tugs her top half-loose to match the previous scene. A second later, Mel calls, “Action!”
Vi brings her hands to Caitlyn’s waist, to the exact spot Mel had told her to. Her palms are warm, slightly calloused and a little clammy, but much softer than Caitlyn expected. If these hands are going to be fucking her for the next two hours, at least it won’t feel like she’s being jackhammered by fleshy sandpaper.
Vi pauses, like she’s waiting for Mel’s cue, but Caitlyn gives her one instead. She takes a fistful of Vi’s shirt, pulling her in until their lips collide in a fierce kiss. Caitlyn’s back hits the wall with a breathless little whine, and the sound is all the permission Vi needs to shed her unnecessary doubt.
They’re actors. This is acting. This is work. The moment either of them is uncomfortable, the cameras cut and they separate.
But Caitlyn can’t think of anything she wants less.
Vi yanks Caitlyn in hard, pinning her hips against her own until there’s no more space between them. Her tongue pushes past Caitlyn’s lips with the perfect amount of roughness and — fuck, it makes her lightheaded. She braces her arms around Vi’s shoulders to keep herself from falling over.
It’s already warm, with the temperature somewhere in the eighties. But it seems to jump several degrees when Vi’s hand slides upward to remove Caitlyn’s top. She tugs at the strings, then tears it off entirely and flings it away.
A splash. It must have landed in the water.
“God, you’re fucking unreal,” Vi gasps, breaking the kiss to give Caitlyn’s tits the attention they deserve.
She takes a greedy handful of each breast, moving between them like she’s not sure which one she wants to focus on more. She pinches the dark, sensitive nipples, rolls them between her fingers, and pulls until another desperate moan slips from Caitlyn’s mouth.
Vi replaces her fingers with her tongue, and the cameraman zooms in for a better view. Vi gives him exactly what he wants, flicking her tongue over Caitlyn’s nipple again and again, fast then slow, making sure the shot is worth the close-up.
The camera follows Vi’s hand to catch her playing with the waistband of Caitlyn’s bikini bottoms. She takes her time, giving plenty to capture, but the wet ache between Caitlyn’s legs only gets worse. She has an awful suspicion that even without an audience, Vi would still enjoy making her squirm.
Sinking to her knees, Vi takes Caitlyn’s bikini with her, pulling it down to reveal just how wet she’s been since meeting in her dressing room. Vi licks her lips and takes in Caitlyn’s nakedness. She looks at Caitlyn almost tenderly, which might be sweet, if they weren’t in the middle of something so deeply inappropriate.
She licks up Caitlyn’s slit, collecting every bit of slickness she can gather. She swallows with a pleased hum and immediately goes back for more.
Caitlyn pinches her own nipple, already missing the feeling of Vi doing it instead. But her own touch will have to do for now, so she kneads her breast with one hand and grips Vi’s hair with the other.
This is what Caitlyn loves about her job: she can fuck and be fucked and enjoy all the ways every person does it differently without pretending it means more than it does. And what she’s really enjoying right now is Vi’s mouth on her clit and both hands on her ass. Vi digs her nails into the flesh, leaving evidence so everyone knows she was there.
“Please, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna come,” Caitlyn gasps.
Vi hums against her.
The camera is positioned low, angled upward to get both Caitlyn’s cunt and her face in the same frame. She tugs at Vi’s hair and rocks her hips down and into her mouth, and with one perfect suck, she comes hard, leaving Vi’s cheeks and chin wet with proof that Caitlyn was there too.
This is where the scene is supposed to end, but Mel doesn’t call cut. Or maybe she does and Caitlyn simply doesn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears. Either way, Vi stands again, their mouths find each other, and Caitlyn doesn’t care to ask if the cameras are still rolling.
Caitlyn tastes herself on Vi’s lips, the fruitiness of her lip tint, and the unmistakable flavor of Vi herself.
She leans in for more. Then, “Cut!”
Caitlyn reels back on instinct. After years on sets and in front of cameras, Caitlyn has trained herself to drop the onscreen persona as soon as that word is called and bring it back only when filming requires it.
Still dazed and catching her breath from her orgasm, Caitlyn has barely recovered by the time Mel reappears, handing Vi a towel-wrapped object that is suspiciously phallus-shaped. “Here, put this on,” she instructs briskly.
Vi takes it, and sure enough, it’s a harness with the bright blue, eight-inch dildo Caitlyn agreed to this morning (after vetoing the more questionable options first) already installed.
“Yes, ma’am.” Vi tugs her bottoms down right there on the patio.
Caitlyn politely averts her eyes, which might be a little absurd, considering Vi was only recently kneeling between her legs, but that doesn’t mean Caitlyn needs to stare at her while she changes.
Mel turns to Caitlyn. “Do you need anything before we start? Water, lunch? We might be out here for a while.”
“I’m fine.” Caitlyn shakes her head.
“How about you?” Mel asks Vi.
“Nah, I’m good.” Vi waves her hand. “I try not to eat or drink too much on set. Especially when I’m strapping. Gives me cramps.”
Mel blinks and leaves it at that.
Vi fumbles with the harness, struggling to get the Velcro lined up properly. She tries to readjust it again without much success.
“Need help?” Caitlyn offers, trying not to sound overly amused by how charmingly defeated Vi looks.
“A little bit,” Vi says, stepping closer. “You mind tightening it around my waist? I don’t wanna take the whole thing off, but I can probably fix the Velcro myself once it’s all secure.”
“Sure,” Caitlyn agrees.
She takes a seat on the nearby couch, which puts her nearly at perfect eye level with the brightly colored toy. She chooses not to acknowledge it, lifting Vi’s shirt just enough to get to what needs adjusting. Vi keeps the fabric raised and out of the way. She holds it higher than Caitlyn had, revealing a deep set of abs that Caitlyn has only seen through a screen. She chooses not to acknowledge that either.
“You ever sucked a strap?” Vi asks. The words don’t have that same rasp as they did in Caitlyn’s dressing room. This time, there’s a genuine curiosity that Caitlyn doesn’t know how to respond to.
Caitlyn pauses what she’s doing for a split second, but resumes just as fast, refusing to give Vi the pleasure of seeing her off guard.
“Not on camera, if that’s what you’re asking.” She doesn’t need to look up to see the grin on Vi’s face. She fastens the waistband. “How’s this?”
“Tighter,” Vi says. Caitlyn pulls the belt. “Yeah, like that.”
With the harness secured, Caitlyn lets her hands fall to her sides, while Vi wraps one of her own around the toy, testing the size and measuring it by feel. Caitlyn loses her train of thought, distracted by the way Vi’s long fingers slowly stroke her cock.
Mel approaches, screwing on the cap to her water bottle. “Good, you’ve got it on. Here’s what’s going to happen next.”
She talks them through the sequence of positions, the pacing, and how she wants Caitlyn spread across the couch. But all Caitlyn can focus on is the toy dangling from Vi’s waist, and she hears absolutely none of what Mel has to say.
-
Caitlyn plants her hands and knees on the couch cushion, with Vi hovering behind her. She can’t see much from this angle, but she hears a lube bottle snap open and the slick sound of Vi spreading it over the toy. She drags the leftover lube against Caitlyn’s cunt, and Caitlyn hisses at the sudden coldness.
“Sorry,” Vi mumbles, cleaning her hand with a rag and giving the bottle back to one of the assistants.
“It’s fine.”
As clumsy and deeply unsexy as it is to reposition between takes, Caitlyn is still so wet that the lube feels entirely unnecessary. She could probably take every inch of Vi’s cock without the extra help.
“It’s too bad I can’t see your face right now.” Vi puts her hands on Caitlyn’s ass, squeezing as she gets settled. “I bet you look so pretty once you’re all stretched out.”
“Action!”
Caitlyn has no time to process what Vi said before she starts rubbing the tip of her cock through the slippery mess of lube and arousal. Vi teases her, working her up until Caitlyn eventually nods, giving her the go-ahead she’s been waiting for.
Vi pushes into her slowly, allowing Caitlyn to get used to the feeling, but Caitlyn also suspects Vi might be dragging it out simply to tease her. With shallow strokes, Vi pumps in and out, working deeper with each thrust. Caitlyn has been fucked with toys longer and thicker than this one, but the size hardly matters when Vi knows exactly how to angle herself and where to hit.
Then she bottoms out, and Caitlyn’s vision goes white.
“Fuck,” Caitlyn whines. “Harder, please.”
Vi does as she’s asked, and the sounds turn obscene. The only thing louder than the slap of skin against skin is Caitlyn moaning, begging for Vi to keep going, as if she has any real reason to stop.
Caitlyn drops from her hands to her elbows, her arms too weak to hold herself up properly. “Your cock—oh my god, it feels so fucking good.”
“You like that? You like how deep I’m fucking you?”
“Yes.”
Her body can’t decide whether she’s hot or cold. The sun is blistering, Vi’s grip is burning, but inside, Caitlyn is a confusing mess of both. There’s heat everywhere, but she feels a sudden flash of cold every time Vi plunges against her cervix.
“Vi, I’m—”
Vi fucks her so relentlessly that she’s unable to speak. She doesn’t slow down or miss a single beat. It usually takes a bit more instruction to get Caitlyn to this point, but Vi is apparently some kind of savant.
“You’re taking it so well,” Vi says. Caitlyn catches the cameraman’s shadow in her periphery, rushing to fix his shot when Mel directs him into a close up of Caitlyn’s cunt. “You gonna come for me? You gonna come all over this cock?”
“Yes. I’m so close, please.”
Every thrust shakes her entire body. It starts low in her stomach and moves all the way up to her skull. It’s dizzying and disorienting and it makes everything feel sideways. Vi reaches around and finds Caitlyn’s clit, and the shock makes her jerk upright. She arches her back against Vi’s chest, giving her the room she needs to rub her raw and pound into her at the same time.
“Just like that—fuck, yes, Vi.”
Vi presses her mouth to Caitlyn’s shoulder, kissing the skin there while her free hand squeezes Caitlyn’s breast. She pinches and pulls her nipple, timing it with every thrust until she has Caitlyn shaking with her second orgasm.
“That’s it,” Vi says, helping Caitlyn forward so she’s back down onto her elbows. “You did so good, baby.”
She shudders when Vi pulls out, already missing the stretch and the full, searing pressure deep inside her cunt. But if she doesn’t catch her breath soon, she might actually collapse face-first somewhere in the grass. And Caitlyn would rather not make Mel document that in an incident report.
“How are you feeling?” Vi asks.
Caitlyn manages to perch on the cushion on her own and drags a hand through her hair. “I think I need some water.”
They work through two more positions, first with Caitlyn on her back and the next in Vi’s lap. Each orgasm leaves her a little more exhausted than the last, but they still have one scene left to film, and the afternoon heat has not let up. If anything, all the exertion has only made it worse.
“At least we’ll be in the pool for this one,” Vi says, sinking into the shallow end. It’s just deep enough to cover their legs while they sit, but not so deep that Vi risks being waterboarded once she gets between Caitlyn’s legs to eat her out. A foot away, the pool drops off steeply.
Caitlyn purses her lips thoughtfully. “Didn’t the pool boy say I’m not supposed to get in until tomorrow?”
Vi laughs, shaking her head. “I’d be shocked if anyone noticed the continuity error.”
“You two ready?” Mel calls out from the shelter of her umbrella.
The two women glance over their shoulders toward Mel, who raises her thumb, switching between yes and no until Vi gives her a thumbs up in return.
She turns back to Caitlyn. “Alright. Let’s ride, cowgirl.”
-
Once Caitlyn has cleaned the lube, spit, and come off her skin, she heads back to her dressing room to change into the clothes she arrived in. Still a little wobbly, she nearly eats shit trying to shimmy into her jeans. Thankfully everything else is easier to get on, but she leaves her boots on the floor until she feels confident she won’t fall over trying to wrestle with them.
There’s a knock on her door, and whoever it is, she invites them in. Mel enters, no longer wearing her strict director demeanor. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” Caitlyn says, touching up her mascara. She pauses and adds jokingly, “Unless you’re here to say we need to do a reshoot.”
During one of her past movies, half the footage turned out to be unusable, all because the director had been paying more attention to Caitlyn and Maddie going at it than the shot going in and out of focus. Mel is far too competent to let something like that happen, but still, Caitlyn would rather not have a repeat of that incident.
“No,” Mel snickers, taking the seat next to her. “We’ve got everything we need. I just came to check on you.”
“How sweet.” Caitlyn puts the cap back on her mascara and drops it into her makeup bag. “I’m fine. A bit sore but I’ll live.”
“And Jayce wanted me to ask if you’re still coming to dinner tomorrow.”
Caitlyn chuckles softly. “Right, to celebrate his scriptwriting debut.”
Knowing Jayce, he’s just looking for an excuse to get everyone in the same place and spend some much needed time together outside of work. But Caitlyn has been his friend for years, which means she knows there’s a small part of him that is sincerely proud to have his words performed, even if the finished result happens to be the worst porno she’s ever been in. At least as far as the story goes.
Caitlyn opens her mouth to answer, but another knock at the door cuts her off.
“Who is it?” Mel beats Caitlyn to it, sounding more like a director again.
“Um. Vi?”
Mel gives Caitlyn a sideways look, silently asking whether she should be allowed to enter. Caitlyn rarely spends time with co-stars outside of set, which her manager insists is terrible for her image. He also complains about her lacking presence on social media, but that’s its own headache. Vi has been nothing but decent to her, professionally speaking, so Caitlyn can at least manage to be polite back.
“I’ll let her in.” Mel stands up.
Vi stands on the other side of the door, hands in her pockets. She’s dressed more or less how Caitlyn expected her to off camera. Then again, someone with piercings all over and a mural on her back probably wouldn’t be wearing a mini skirt or sundress.
She and Mel exchange a quick hello and an even quicker goodbye, and with Mel walking away, it’s Vi and Caitlyn alone again in her dressing room.
“Hi,” Caitlyn says first, rising from her chair to grab her boots.
“Hey,” Vi greets her brightly, which catches Caitlyn off guard. After spending the afternoon fucking Caitlyn like it was a full body exercise, she expected Vi to be equally exhausted. Clearly that’s not the case.
“I’m off the clock, by the way. In case you were planning to make any more lewd little comments,” Caitlyn says lightly.
“No, I think I got all the dirty talk out of my system while we were filming.” Vi grins. There’s nothing overtly suggestive about it, but Caitlyn still blushes. “But I do have a question.”
Caitlyn almost rolls her ankle trying to shove her foot into her shoe. She gets there eventually.
“What is it?” Caitlyn asks.
“I was just wondering—and don’t lie…” Vi steps closer, still grinning. Caitlyn’s thoughts scatter at the proximity. “Did I oversell myself or did I deliver?”
Caitlyn blinks, processing the question, and Vi arches a brow while she waits for an answer. Caitlyn thinks of their earlier conversation, and how boldly Vi had told her she wanted to fuck her against her vanity. Off the clock. That was just flirting, right? Or whatever constitutes flirting between pornstars.
“You fucked me well,” Caitlyn says truthfully. Vi blinks, unprepared for the honesty and bluntness of Caitlyn’s answer. “But don’t let it get to your head.”
Caitlyn steps around Vi to gather her things.
“Oh, it’s definitely getting to my head. I can already feel my skull expanding.”
Caitlyn purses her lips to hide her smile and collects her things, draping her bag and jacket over her arm. Even with the sun starting to go down, it’s still too hot to put anything over her blouse.
“Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to run into each other again soon.”
Vi’s eyes follow Caitlyn as she crosses the room. “On another job? I hope so.”
Caitlyn grins openly now, wrapping her hand around the door handle. “I’ll be sure to look out for your name on my next booking.”