I Recruited Her for Porn at the Town Festival

I had no doubt about it: it was her, even if she’d changed. She gestured the same way, moved the same way, only now she had several extra kilos on her and a little girl sitting in the shopping cart. Five years without seeing her, the same five I’d gone without setting foot in the village, and the place had barely changed more than she had.

She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye and quickened her pace between the shelves. I went after her and broke the spell.

—Long time no see —I said.

—I… I’m sorry, I don’t know… —she stammered.

—It’s Darío. Don’t tell me you don’t remember. You’re Lara. Lara Vela.

—Lara Quiroga —she corrected me softly, looking at the little girl—. I have to go.

And she hurried off, leaving the cart half full, buying nothing, as if I were a ghost she didn’t want to shake hands with.

***

The following Monday I told Nadia about it at the studio. We’d been running a small, homemade production company together for years, the kind that shoots in borrowed flats. She behind the camera and me, almost always, in front of it.

—Guess who I ran into in my village? Lara Vela.

—Of course I remember —she said without looking up from the monitor—. One of the first girls who came through here. She disappeared from one day to the next.

—She ran off with a guy from the village, apparently. Got married, had a daughter.

—New life —murmured Nadia—. And the girl worked nonstop. She fucked on camera like her life depended on it.

I stared at the dead screen and, against my will, went back five years. There are things you bury and a stupid little encounter in a supermarket digs them right back up in one piece.

***

I met her at my village’s festival. I was almost forty and had come back grudgingly, out of obligation, to be bored among brass bands and fair stalls. She was nineteen, slim, brunette, with brown eyes and a face that looked like it had never done a thing wrong, which in truth was pure façade.

I noticed her immediately, in a dive bar where I’d gone for a drink. The bartender, whom I’d already made friends with, followed my gaze.

—That’s Honorio the butcher’s daughter —he said, lowering his voice—. What a piece of work. With how brutal her father is, if he found out even half of what people say, he’d lock her up.

—And what do they say?

—That she jumps into the first guy’s car that passes by. That she likes to party. That she’s sucked off half the village behind the fronton wall. Her father’s got such a temper that one day he’ll send her away to boarding school and that’ll be that.

He wasn’t far off. Two nights later I saw her leave the bar with a long-haired guy on a motorbike. I don’t know what pushed me to follow them in my car. They didn’t go far, barely a kilometer, to a pine grove on the outskirts. I parked, got out, and walked along the path like someone stepping out for a smoke under the moon.

I heard them before I saw them. Her giving short, muffled moans, and the unmistakable splash of a cock going in and out of a wet cunt. When I reached the clearing, the guy was already pulling up his trousers, the used rubber lying in the moss, and she was still face down on a blanket, skirt hitched up to her waist and ass bare, a white ass covered in finger marks. She came over to ask me for a cigarette with that twenty-year-old swagger, I gave her one and, without any reason, she blurted out:

—Fuck done, visit over —and she left with a roar of the exhaust, abandoning her there.

I found her sitting on the ground, dizzy, fumbling for her handbag, thighs shining with spit and semen running down the inside of her leg despite the condom. This girl shouldn’t go off alone like this, I thought, though my motives were not entirely noble.

—You okay? I’ll give you a lift home, you’re in no shape to walk.

I put her in the car. She smelled of wine, pine trees, and freshly fucked sex.

—That bastard leaves me stranded —she muttered—. After taking me from behind and coming in three minutes, not even a thank you. As soon as I find a job in the city, I’m out of this village and never coming back.

—And what do you plan to do for work?

—Anything. I dropped out. I did a hairdressing course, but I hated it.

When I stopped where she told me to, I took a business card from the production company and slipped it into her bag.

—The numbers are on the back. Adult films. You’re of age now. Think about it.

—Think about what, being a whore? Who do you think I am? —she said, and slammed the door shut.

***

I’d forgotten all about it when, a month later, I got a message. It was her. She’d thought about filming, she didn’t get along with her parents, she wanted the money and the excuse to leave. We agreed to meet at the station. She arrived with a big backpack and the rumpled clothes of someone who has no intention of coming back.

—I’ve seen your site —she said in the car—. You’re in some of the videos. You fuck well, for an old man.

—We’re small, but we pay on time. I can guarantee that.

When we got there, Nadia looked her up and down with her usual coolness.

—She’s not high-end —she told me aside—. But she’s got something in her face. That innocence. That sells. Every guy who sees her is going to want to fuck her.

The problem was that the actor who was supposed to test her had pulled out at the last minute. Nadia shrugged.

—You’ll have to do it. I’ll handle the camera.

The idea didn’t bother me. At almost forty I still had a decent body, and I knew my way around in front of and behind the lens.

We sent her to shower. When I came out to set up the shoot, she was already sitting in a chair, wrapped in a robe, drying her hair. On the table there were condoms and a tube of lubricant. She looked at them without trying to hide it.

—Always with a condom? —she asked.

—Always. And the finish goes on the face or body, never inside.

—And the money?

Nadia showed her the bills. She stood up, counted them, put them in the backpack, and sat back down to wait for me. She’s not as innocent as she looks, I thought. Better.

I came out without beating around the bush, already half hard and swinging between my thighs. She looked at my tattoos, looked at the rest, lingered a good while on my cock, and raised one eyebrow with girlish arrogance.

—Ever tried anything like this? —I asked her.

—Maybe —she said, pretending nothing impressed her—. I’ve sucked bigger cocks.

—Prove it.

I lifted her out of the chair, opened the robe slowly, and kissed her neck until her skin broke out in goosebumps. She had small, firm tits, pink nipples already hard, pointing at the ceiling. I sucked them one by one, biting them carefully, tugging with my teeth until her first real moan escaped. I knelt in front of her and licked her navel, going straight down to her shaved pussy, to the cunt that already smelled like a hot woman. I parted her lips with two fingers, saw her swollen clit shining with wetness, and swept my tongue over it, bottom to top, mouth wide open.

—Fuck —she gasped, grabbing my hair.

I turned her with her back to the camera, made her lean against the table with her legs spread and her ass lifted, and got her ready with my hand. First one finger, then two, curling them inward, and with my thumb I rubbed her clit until she started moving her hips on her own, pushing against my hand, unhurried, until she stopped pretending indifference and began breathing through her mouth in short gasps.

—Good shot —Nadia said from behind the tripod—. Open her ass wider, you can see everything better.

I did as told. I spread her cheeks with both hands so the camera could catch the soaked cunt and the tight little hole tucked between the flesh of her ass. Then I stood up and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back.

—Suck me —I told her in her ear—. Like you know how.

She turned around, dropped to her knees, and took my cock into her mouth without ceremony, all of it, choking on it. She hadn’t lied: she knew how to suck cock. She pulled it out, spat on it, licked my balls one by one, swallowed it again to the hilt, leaving a string of saliva hanging from her chin. She sucked me off looking at the camera with glassy eyes, and every now and then she’d take the dick out and rub it over her face, over her tits, across her lips.

—That’s enough —I said, lifting her by the elbows—. Get up on the table.

I sat her on the edge, spread her knees until I’d opened her all the way, and went back to my tongue where my fingers had been. I ate her slowly, sucking her clit, pushing my tongue deep inside her, my hands prying open her cunt lips so the camera could see every movement. Lara threw her head back and clutched the edge of the table. She didn’t fake her moans, like others did for the camera; she let the air out in short jolts, almost against her will, as if it bothered her to enjoy something she had come to do for money.

—Put it in already —she panted—. Fuck me already.

I put the condom on in front of her face, ran the head of my cock over her wet lips to wet it properly, and entered slowly, centimeter by centimeter, letting the camera do its job. Lara clenched her teeth when I was fully inside her, a guttural growl slipping out of her, and then no longer so slowly. The table was at the perfect height. I drove into her hard, my hands dug into her hips, watching my cock go in and out slick with her juices, watching her small tits bounce to the rhythm of the thrusts, watching her squeeze her eyes shut every time I hit bottom.

—Like that, like that, harder, harder —she kept saying, no longer remembering the camera.

I pulled her off the table, turned her around, put her on all fours on top of it and shoved back into her from behind. I grabbed one tit with one hand and her hair with the other, pulling, fucking her like a dog, the sound of my balls slapping her cunt filling the whole room. She dug her heels into my hips when I turned her onto her back again for the final shot and stopped looking at anything at all. I rubbed her clit with my thumb while I kept ramming into her, and I could feel her cunt clenching around my cock in spasms. When she came, she didn’t scream or overdo it: she just exhaled, long and shuddering, eyes glassy, her whole body trembling in waves, and that was worth more than any fake hysteria.

I pulled my cock out, tore off the condom in one yank, and let a long, thick rope of semen spill over her tits and neck, aiming for the shot, finishing outside like the house rules said. She ran two fingers through it, put them in her mouth without taking her eyes off the lens, and went straight to the shower without a word.

That first video, uploaded that very same night, was the one that got the most comments in a long time.

***

Three days later she wrote again. She wanted more money and, which was new, she wanted to shoot again. I told her that day we were filming with another girl, one who was getting revenge on a cheating boyfriend, and that if she wanted she could come watch. She showed up in half an hour.

That afternoon I introduced her to Bruno, one of our regulars, an ex-soldier, short but incredibly strong, the kind who never misses in front of the camera. Lara sat in a corner of the little flat and didn’t miss a thing: she watched Bruno split the other girl apart in three positions, come in her open mouth, and the girl swallow without blinking. When we came out, she told me without blinking, with that streetwise tongue of hers:

—That girl isn’t getting revenge on anyone. She fucks because she likes getting it in from every angle. Same as me.

I looked at her in the rearview mirror. She was no longer the drunk kid in the pine grove. In a few days she’d understood the rules of the game better than actresses with years of experience.

—You’ve got three good weeks ahead of you —I told her—. Just so you know, tomorrow you’re working with two top guys. Come rested. They’re going to fuck your cunt and your ass good and proper.

—Even better —she said, looking out the window with a crooked smile.

***

The next day Mateo and Aldo were waiting for her, the best we had. Mateo was around forty, serious, hard-faced, with a thin scar crossing his nose, the kind of man who, even if he isn’t handsome, drives girls crazy. Aldo was the opposite: twenty-three, mixed-race, spectacular, a devil’s smile, a black, monstrous cock that was already legend in the business, and the habit of repeating “that’s it!” every two sentences until you were ready to kill him. Separately they were a safe bet; together, an earthquake.

At last we used the room with a real bed instead of the table and chair from the castings. Lara wore a short dress and nothing underneath. Mateo came in, the formal introductions were made, and the attraction was obvious in the air from the first second.

Mateo wasted no time. He kissed her hungrily while lifting her dress, slipped his hand between her thighs, and found her already wet.

—What a slut —he murmured against her mouth—. You’re already dripping.

—Shut up and fuck me —she answered.

He shoved her against the wall, yanked the dress over her head, and dropped to his knees to eat her pussy right there, standing up, with one of Lara’s legs over his shoulder. He licked her, sucked her lips, pushed his tongue in so deeply she slid backward against the wall. Then he stood up, pulled out his cock, and pushed her head down. Lara sucked him off on her knees, with both hands, squeezing his balls, taking him all the way to the back of her throat until tears welled in her eyes and spit ran down her chin, leaving Mateo’s cock shining to the base.

He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, laid her on her back on the bed and got between her legs. He set her ankles on his shoulders, rolled on the condom with one hand and rammed his cock into her with a single thrust. Lara arched her back and let out a short howl, closing her thighs around his neck. He split her open with hard blows of his hips, counting the movements as if he were at the gym. He traced every curve with his hands, pinched her nipples until they turned purple, then put her astride him, sitting on the edge of the bed, and made her ride him. Lara, who had still been unsure at the casting, was now attacking with determination: she moved up and down with her hands on his shoulders, biting her lip, her tits bouncing in his face, having learned to hold the gaze of the camera while being impaled. He lifted her again, played with her mouth and body in an impossible position, her legs closed around his waist and her weight driving down on his cock with every bounce. Lara rocked and moaned like a cat, with no shame left at all, “like that, like that, deeper, give it to me hard,” until she finally let go in tremors, clenching around his cock in long spasms. Mateo lowered her, removed the condom and finished quickly, almost in office-worker haste, shooting his load over her stomach and tits, a jet that reached her neck. He showered and got dressed in no time.

—I’ve got to stop by home and pick up the kids —he said as he put on his jacket, as if he were coming back from the office—. Good girl. Learns fast. She’s got a championship cunt.

***

Then Aldo came in, cap backwards and his “that’s it!” already in his mouth. Where Mateo was dry and efficient, Aldo was pure spectacle. He circled her like an animal sizing up his prey, kissed her at length, made her laugh against her will, and when he lowered his pants and showed her that enormous, dark, thick, vein-laced cock, Lara’s eyes went wide.

—Fuck —she said—. And where the hell are you going to put that beast?

—Wherever you want, babe, that’s it! —he answered, laughing.

He sat her on the edge of the bed and brought his cock up to her mouth. Lara grabbed it with both hands, she couldn’t even fit around it, and started licking it like it was an ice cream, from the balls to the head, rolling her tongue around it, spitting on it so it would slide better. She took it in slowly, choking, pulling it out coated in saliva, until she managed to swallow more than half. Aldo held her head with both hands and fucked her mouth with gentle thrusts, looking into the lens with that devil smile.

—That’s it, babe, like that, take the whole thing!

He laid her on the bed, bent her legs up to her ears, and got to work on her cunt with real dedication, sucking her clit, sliding in two fingers, making her come once just with his mouth before he even put it in. Lara twisted, howling, her thighs trembling on either side of his head. Then he rolled on the condom, got between her legs, and slowly, very slowly, pushed his cock into her, giving her time to open for that absurd size. He gave himself to her with a patience I wouldn’t have expected from someone so loud-mouthed, thrusting calmly, all the way in, then faster, then slow again.

He turned her over and put her on all fours, ass high, and entered her from behind again, gripping her hips, fucking her with his whole waist, that enormous cock going in and out slick while Lara buried her face in the pillow and screamed. He slapped her ass once, and again, and again, leaving the red imprint of his hand. Then he put her on her back again, lifted her legs and kept impaling her without respite. Lara stopped performing completely. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling, her breathing broken, her whole body tightening in waves, her mouth open, letting out uncensored obscenities: “you’re splitting me open, more, more, don’t stop, give it all to me.” I moved closer with the camera on my shoulder and caught the exact moment she lost control, eyes shut, a long scream echoing through the whole room, her cunt milking his cock in visible contractions. Then he pulled out, tore off the condom, came up to her face and emptied a generous load over her, thick spurts landing on her forehead, her cheeks, her parted lips, on the tongue she stuck out by instinct, finishing the way he knew how, looking into the lens with that smile of his. He stepped into the shower whistling, with his cock still half hard hanging between his thighs, leaving the door open, true to his taste for showing off.

—She’s a bombshell —I heard Nadia say while Lara wiped the semen off her face in the bathroom, licking it from her fingers.

—He’s a pig —Lara answered, but she was smiling—. And the son of a bitch has a huge cock.

***

I didn’t take long to hear from my father. Someone had shown him the videos in the village and he called to tell me it was a disgrace, that I shouldn’t even think of coming back, that I’d taken advantage of the butcher’s daughter. He told me the entire inheritance would go to my brothers. Me, the black sheep. The funny thing is he drank his whole life away and never once shook when it came to pointing at anyone else.

My uncle, on the other hand, called me laughing his head off.

—In the village they admire you and would kill you in equal measure —he told me—. You even convinced that girl. Where do you get the nerve?

In the months that followed, half the cast and half the city wanted a turn with Lara. They fucked her front and back, two at a time, three at a time, came on her face dozens of times in different camera setups. She worked until she was sick of it and then one day, without warning, she disappeared. It wasn’t until years later that I learned she had married and had a little girl.

***

On November 3rd last year I went back to the village to bury my father. On the way back, on the road, a truck sideswiped me. Some people said it wasn’t an accident. I have no way to prove it.

I’m writing this confession from a wheelchair. I still live off porn, producing what I can no longer star in, because my body stopped being good for that after that night on the road. Sometimes I think about Lara pushing that cart, about how she lowered her eyes and ran. And I understand that neither of us wanted to remember who we were. I, at least, have no escape now: I drag it with me everywhere, on these two wheels.