ONE LAST GANG BANG
I might be addicted to pornography.
I love everything about it: the engineered plotlines meeting the obvious sexual enthusiasm of the performers, my own pervy voyeurism as I shout, “Fuck her harder!” at the screen while vigorously rubbing my clit. I mean, I’m not a person who has stacks of XXX DVDs lying around in the open or spends all my time on a sticky air mattress or anything like that. My mattress actually boasts Tempur-Pedic foam, thank you very much . . . but it is just as sticky. I feed off the element of sexual fantasy. I much prefer basking in the joy of loud orgasms that happen from anal over feigning a connection at an awkward Tinder-date dinner followed by a disappointing four to seven minutes of missionary (if I’m lucky enough to even make that happen). I’d always had an urge to explore myself sexually but never knew how to find the right partner to go exploring with. Being a porn star solved that issue quite perfectly.
I’ve been producing and performing in porn for over fifteen years now. In my very first scene, I had anal sex on a rooftop surrounded by strangers. Not strangers working on the production set, mind you, but the actual people who lived in the building who’d heard that a porno was being shot in the place where they lived. The curious little buggers just had to come see the dirty girl who’d agreed to get railed on a rooftop. I had never had public sex before, but watching those unknown eyes meet mine as my ass was mercilessly pounded by a stranger I hired for the day, knowing their minds were empty save for feelings of lust for my body and jealousy of the dick inside me, was thrilling.
Being a sexual performer turns me from a mundane, quasinormal person into a bona fide superhero. Call me Pussygirl; I’ll stop crime by fucking every cock in sight until those evildoers are drained.
By thirty-six, I’d made almost every type of scene imaginable: solo masturbation sequences where I would slowly rub my vulva and penetrate myself with dildos of various sizes, talking directly to the camera lens as if I were imagining that I wanted it to come to life to make swift, yet tender love to me; threesomes and foursomes and orgies and double-penetration sex scenes. I’d role-played as everything from a maid to a schoolgirl; a teacher, a zombie, a vampire, and every other monster imaginable.
You could say I’ve pretty much done it all. I’ve fucked on desks in a fitted blazer and pleated pants that I drenched in my own squirt; I’ve fucked on circular beds (they exist) in bikinis made of nothing but Swarovski crystals. I’ve fucked on couches in striped kneesocks, on love seats in lingerie, on sectionals with a pin-up pompadour in my hair and bright red lips. I’ve poured oil all over myself inside inflatable pools in the middle of living rooms; I’ve gotten down and dirty outside, underneath a bridge that overlooked the Eiffel Tower and on a rock off the coast of Spain. I love every aspect of this sexual fantasy world I’ve deliberately and literally inserted myself into; I’m like a john hiring all the top-tier escorts in Vegas, making my wildest sexual fantasies come to life, only I’m the sex worker and the john in one, sitting in a director’s chair with a dick in my ass.
But my favorite scenes to shoot were always gang bangs.
Gang bangs are absurdly hot; there’s really no other way to describe them. It’s not at all a natural human sex act, though it feels like a testament to the human spirit when a bunch of dudes who really have no business shoving their dicks into the same pussy at the same time can do so in a serious and unbelievably sexy way. I get such a rush thinking about the many-on-one scenario. For what seems like a few spectacular moments, I am the center of these men’s worlds, their only goal to ravish my body and make me quake with intense, cinematic orgasms. I am known to be a bit of a brat, and this is the only true way I am the literal center of attention. Plus, I love the challenge of it, like how at times during the act I feel like I am going to drown in a sea of dick, as if there are alternating waves of dicks and pulsating pleasure constantly crashing over me until I can’t even manage a breath. I love being taken for a ride, the feeling of losing complete control of my limbs and my senses. My reward is being showered in an ocean of come, then going home and eating a very large pizza, filling me even more, and feeling like such a good whore.
Which is why, for my thirty-seventh birthday, I decided to organize the greatest gang bang ever filmed. I’d shot two gang bangs previously, and this one was to be my highest achievement: The last gang bang I ever wanted to film. I wanted to create the be-all-end-all of bang scenes, an event that wouldn’t just leave me sore for a few days but would also give me such an intense, pleasurable association of flesh that just touching certain spots of my body to the memory would invoke an instant physical response. I wanted a gang bang that would make my previous scenes look like low-budget, soft-core nudie flicks on late-night cable. I wanted to be made into a screen warrior queen, crowned with semen atop a throne of cocks, the monarchy clearly stable under my reign.
So I got to work getting my maximal gang bang together. I picked a day far enough in advance to make sure there was ample time to coordinate all the pieces of the penis puzzle together. See, a great gang bang is like a symphony: Everything (and everyone) must work together in harmony. One wrong minor chord could damage the flow and draw the line between seeing a person getting beautifully pounded by five large cocks and watching five men stressfully and unsuccessfully jerk off.
It’s like a rock band, but in your pussy. There’s a front man leading the way and doing all the showy stuff; there’s a lead guitarist doing all the solos, riffs, and fills; a second guitarist supporting the lead providing a rhythmic drive; a bass player who acts as the nice, non-egomaniacal glue to hold everyone together and keep things moving without stealing the spotlight; and a drummer anchoring everything down, getting the least amount of credit for what is actually the most important job in the act. A lot of women make the mistake of thinking that the perfect gang bang is a mix of five men you really want to fuck. In actuality, the perfect gang bang is a mix of five men who can comfortably have their sweat dripping all over one another, their balls touching, their dicks comfortably coexisting in the same wet space while still focusing on the main objective of the day, which is to fuck the person in the center in the most animalistic way possible.
The first man I picked for my epic night of pleasure was Simon Holtz, a fellow industry veteran and a virtuoso of vagina stimulation. A bearded silver fox of Romanian-German descent, Simon is the kind of guy Generation X housewives fantasize about while blowing their average-looking husbands. His hair shimmers in the light, and though he does have a little more weight on him than your typical performer, he’s still extremely slim. His hips are especially inviting, ones you want pressing against your pelvis as he thrusts himself into you. He’s not only gorgeous, he’s got a truly Zen personality to boot—nothing matters to him but pleasure, his and his partner’s. When I called him up to ask if he’d be interested in participating, he crooned, “My darling Joanna, I would be simply honored to fuck every inch of your body.” I just about lost it.
Of course, for every calm and silver, you need fiery and gold, which is where Mica comes in. Mica’s the flair man: everything he does with his body carries a sheen of intensity with it. He’s a Latino mutt, a perfect combination of Spanish gravitas and Colombian hip movements. Not only is his body chiseled to perfection—iron abs, gleaming tan skin, and triceps that could crack a walnut—his vibe is all energy, all the time. I’d fucked him before, and when I say this guy won’t stop until the job is done, I mean it. I knew he would tire me out in the best way during this scene.
Next on deck was Nick, a kindhearted guy from Canada and another performer whom I’d been working with on and off for a good ten years. I call him the “boyfriend” of the group. He’s just such a sweetie! Blond hair, dimples on both his face and ass. He’s like if a boy band member grew up and actually stayed hot. It feels oddly pure every time we fuck. He’s sensual, like he’ll hold my head up in place when I’m getting face-fucked too hard. Or he’ll grab a pillow for my knees if they’re being dragged across the ground. It’s the little things!
Then there’s Beau. A good Southern boy and the only American in my multicultural manwich. And yes, he has the delicious Southern drawl that makes even East Coast girls fling their thongs. The first time I hired him, he showed up on set saying, “Mornin’, gorgeous.” I thought he was a flirty neighbor of the house I was shooting in who’d stumbled into the wrong place. Until I saw his massive, nine-inch dick; then I knew he was very much in the right place. He is a solid, fun fuck—not too much of an ego that he can’t follow along and be the second or third person in line to fuck my asshole, but possessive enough where he’ll take me for himself for at least a minute.
Last, but not at all least, was Johnny. Johnny’s a sex soldier: tall, solidly built, with a long, stoic face dappled with gray. He very clearly and deliberately follows orders. If I tell him to suck my clit, he will. If I tell him to get behind me and rapidly fill a hole, there will be no hesitation. Not that he’s incapable of improvisation, but he’s got a cock like a rifle, ready to shoot off when his commanding officer tells him to. Oddly enough, his personality is fairly soft-spoken; he mostly communicates with a series of grunts and moans, which is fine with me. I could already hear his low growl in my ear, the one he saves just for the person he’s fucking doggy-style, a sign to his partner that he is enraptured.
With the five guys ready and willing, I just needed a location. My first gang bang was filmed in an alleyway on the “wrong side of town.” In that scenario, I played a schoolgirl who um . . . er . . . got lost on her way home. My second gang bang was in a brightly lit living room. I wore neon lingerie, without any real context to the scene other than the fact that I was horny and . . . there. So for my third and final gang bang, I chose a dungeon, something seedy enough for my dark and depraved side, but with a large selection of clean and comfortable bondage furniture, running electricity, and a shower. It’s basically as if a clean living room and a dirty alleyway had a baby. The perfect place for a horny almost-thirty-seven-year-old to get her rocks off.
It was decided. I had a solid working group of five stallions booked for the appropriate date to fuck every hole in my body. I had two camera guys, a photographer, a makeup artist, and a dungeon set up to my wildest specifications.
The night before the event though, I panicked. What the hell had I gotten myself into? What if I wasn’t as good of a gang banger anymore? What if no one showed up?
What if . . . I was too old?
Was I past my prime? Would I be able to perform like I had in my twenties? What if my butthole sealed shut in the middle of the night and never opened again? What if I failed to not only orgasm, but also to entertain the people I was filming this for?
My anxieties plus the betrayal of my insanely horny body made it difficult to sleep, so I touched myself while thinking about the coming event (double punitration intended). All these studs who had so readily agreed to fuck me senseless tomorrow—why wouldn’t they love me? I fantasized about what would happen, directing scenes in my head that I would certainly make reality in the morning. As I climaxed, I finally relaxed. I worked hard in life and I deserved this gang bang.
I arrived at the dungeon three hours before the shoot start to get my makeup in order. As I sat in the chair, the lighting crew picked the perfect mix of eerie blues and reds to set the ambiance for the event. The lights had to be moody enough because, you know, we were in a dungeon, but still bright enough to see all the appropriate penetration going on. It’s a balance. Experienced lighting guys in the porn industry understand this challenge; I’d love to see the second key grip on whatever set in Hollywood light a dungeon and a butthole at the same time and see how well they do.
The guys arrived one by one, the two older men arriving first, genially shaking hands and getting ready to do some last-minute bush trims, while the younger ones came in with their personalities already dominating the air around them. Johnny spritzed himself with cologne, Beau made some small talk about the pork ribs he’d been smoking overnight, and Mica was doing stretches. It was a mix of men preparing for battle and a romantic date mixed in one. After a few grueling hours of sitting patiently in a chair not having sex, it was time to make my Cinderella-esque entrance to the stage. As gracefully as I could in a skintight red latex dress (nothing says “I’m ready for filthy sex” more than an outfit that started off as a piece of plastic) and black fuck-me pumps, I stood and made my grand entrance to the set to enthusiastic applause. My dress hugged every one of my curves. Of course, there was a zipper down the back of the dress so everything was easily removable, since the goal was for me to be completely naked as soon as possible. The outfit worked immediately; besides the stark, male gazes I could literally feel resting upon my body, I was very quickly greeted with five towering erections. Maybe there were more, but I wasn’t paying attention to what was underneath the camera guys’ pants because that would simply have been unprofessional.
I walked up to the center of the dungeon and called everyone over.
“Thank you so much for being here with me today.” I gave a quick rundown of the shots I wanted because I couldn’t wait any longer. I had the honor of marking the sound on the clapboard, and then I loudly shouted, “Action!”
The scene began with me masturbating in the middle of the stage surrounded by lit torches and a wall full of hooks and other penetrative devices. This was my idea—the dungeon and the lights and the literal fire were supposed to resemble my own version of hell. But when people tell me to “go to hell,” I don’t take it offensively because, well, I love to travel and hell very much seems like a place I’d enjoy. I was a prisoner, set to be tortured by my demon captors unless I gave them the information they wanted.
But I was too clever for them, as their torture would become my pleasure. I am fully aware of the fact that 99.99 percent of the population fast-forwards through the “plot” of porn, but this scenario truly turned me on so I took a little extra time with it. I threw myself into it and really believed it was happening. I felt panicked and scared and my pussy was wet. I was trapped in hell and had no choice but to fuck and suck my way out.
I sat in the center of the stage, hiking up the bottom of my dress so my vulva was in full view. I started to touch myself, slowly running my fingers over my labia, my clit, my pussy. My senses were on overload. I was sweating from the fire, liquid dripping down my face into the valley between my breasts. My hands were slick from my pussy, and every part of me was already drenched.
I rubbed my clit and fingered myself furiously. One finger, two fingers, three fingers, stabbing my own insides like I was trying to murder my own pussy. I was breathing and moaning and grunting and transforming into a succubus, waiting for Lucifer to give me my treat, only today I had five devils all to myself. What did I do to be so lucky? I stuck finger number four inside myself and thwack —Mica smacked my arm away from my own body.
“You don’t get to come from your hand today,” he said. His accent was so sexy. And he was right. I didn’t sit in rush hour traffic then go through hours of hair, makeup, and wardrobe to come from my own body part. I could do that on my own time. My orgasm was destined to be achieved through multiple penetration. So let’s get on with it!
Mica covered my face with an executioner’s hood, walking me over to where the men were waiting for me, toward a torture chamber with chains on the walls and a massive assortment of furniture for them to use at their pleasure. I heard Nick touching himself as we walked, whispering to his rugged penis like he was calming a wild tiger. I could feel the men’s eyes on me, eager to start the scene and get the satisfaction they were promised. One of the men, I think it was Johnny, grabbed me away from Mica and forcefully guided me to the center of the stage. He pressed on my shoulders and made me kneel on the ground.
“Slut,” I heard Mica shout in a commanding voice. “You will be fucked in every way we want unless you give us the information we need.” He slapped his cock against the side of the black hood. “Will you tell us what we wish to know?”
“Never!” I shouted back as loud as I could, my voice breathy from my horniness and muffled slightly from the covering on my head.
“Then we have no choice. All right, men, fuck her!”
Mica removed the hood, and I was suddenly faced with a tidal wave of male organs, each man clamoring for some sort of penetration or stroking privilege. I felt Simon’s cock first, sliding swiftly into my mouth, not even giving me a chance to breathe, his hand weaving into my hair with fierce control. He slid himself expertly down my throat; I moaned on his dick to give him positive feedback. “My god, yes!” he shouted, pounding my mouth harder. Beau had somehow slid underneath me and was fingering my ass, grabbing lube from a carefully placed prop chalice and slathering my hole with it.
Meanwhile, Nick was looking on, jerking himself to the sight of Johnny sticking the tip of his dick in my pussy, fucking my entrance just enough to tease me before he thrust himself fully inside, his huge member hitting my best spots. His penetration was so fulfilling, I almost choked on Simon as I let out a sigh of pleasure, and I surely heard him letting out a line of signature grunts. Mica stood over my chest and rubbed his unbelievably hard cock against my breasts. I could tell he was eager, but he knew that once he got going, nothing would pull him away from the hole he was going to fuck. So he contentedly looked on for the time being, but when we made eye contact, he mouthed to me, “I will be the one to make you come. You will come for me.”
My pussy was pulsating, and stopping for lube was no longer necessary. Beau’s cock went into my asshole immediately. Simon stopped fucking my mouth long enough for me to be flipped into the doggy position. I closed my eyes, savoring my ass being filled by Beau’s sizable cock. Another dick teased my lips open and I submitted, then that one left and another came in. All the while I was reveling in the thrill of having no idea who I was sucking on. I tried to guess. I opened my eyes. I guessed wrong. I loved it.
I was suddenly thrown on my back and cocks were stuffed into my hands. I looked up to see Johnny and Simon staring down at me, their eyes confirming that they were in complete control of my hands. I jerked them off as my ass was pounded by Nick, the sweet boy finally finding his filthy side and never looking back. Beau stood off to the side, edging himself, moaning, “Fuck, oh fuck,” under his breath.
I was savoring the smooth motions of getting ass-fucked and hand-fucked at the same time, when Mica finally took his place on top of me. He ran his hands over my hot chest and stomach, lying down and guiding his cock to my aching pussy, waiting until I was fully occupied with the two dicks I was rubbing to slam himself inside me and start hammering away. The steady force of Mica’s fucking flung Nick out of my ass, which served as a slowing point for him as well, and he went to go join Beau on the sidelines. But, boys being boys, their cocks couldn’t stay put for long. I watched them lock eyes and in an instant agreement come together in a scissor postition and massage each other’s dick. I could see Beau especially loved it.
But my ass wasn’t done yet—Simon and Johnny both saw the opening and left my hands to become stability tools. Johnny positioned himself underneath me and slowly but easily slid into my anus. I heard Simon say, “Make room,” which Johnny did gladly. Then I unexpectedly felt a second cock enter my behind. Yes. This was double anal. I was a completely stuffed glove filled with seasoned, professional cock.
My body felt like it was doing everything it could possibly do; it was literally and figuratively stretched to capacity. I couldn’t believe my own ass. I was so proud of it. Cheerleaders were doing an epic victory dance inside of me. How long could I keep two cocks inside me? I had no idea. I wanted to keep going, and I did. I got more and more turned on, and my insides welcomed the two cocks until I didn’t even feel stretched anymore, like they were just supposed to be there. Would one cock even be enough for me after this?
The two cocks in my ass fucked me deliberately, each moving in opposite patterns to keep me filled at all times, while Mica still worked my pussy, the head of his cock rubbing the walls and igniting nerves that sent wonderful tingles throughout my entire being. I felt myself become more rigid, my holes grasping on to these cocks for dear life. Then there was a thrust from all three cocks in unison, and I was coming for the second time that day, spasms crashing over me, my mind blanking out.
But the scene wasn’t over, oh no. I was fucked and fucked and fucked some more. These men were like a roller coaster that I had all to myself. What did I do right in life to deserve this festival of cocks? I was so lucky.
I could feel the guys in my ass getting close to their own climaxes, the balls slapping against my asscheeks moving higher, the skin around their dicks becoming tauter. Beau and Nick must have noticed too, as they both rejoined our group, ready to achieve their final sexual feat of the day and make me once again the center of fucking attention. Nick guided my right hand to his still rock-hard dick, Beau going around to my front to tease my mouth and ask for my tongue on him. I happily obliged. Five cocks were in me, all ready to shower me with their hot jizz.
I felt Simon go first; he moaned loudly as he slammed himself deep into my ass, filling me with a hot, steady stream. That made it very easy for Johnny to follow right along, taking over my slick ass and adding his own fluids. They pulled out of me, then stood up and assumed their position to give me all the icing on my gangbang cake.
Beau opened my mouth and let himself fuck my face. I stuck my tongue out to give him easier access to the back of my throat, and suddenly he was yelling, “Oh lord, I’m coming!” A mineral-tasting torrent filled my mouth. I licked the tip of him clean and swallowed like a good girl.
I didn’t have too long to bask in that glow though, as Nick was right there and ready, holding my head still with one hand as he made himself come on my face with the other, his breathing heavy and so manly. That just left Mica, still vigorously fucking my pussy, and I sat up on him and guided his hands onto my hips so he could more easily fuck himself with my insides. He used me like the toy I was, slamming my pussy over him until his eyes rolled back in his head and he unleashed a huge load into me, once again sending me over the edge as I relished these sexy guys’ come in every orifice of my body.
Everyone clapped. I’d never felt so free.
And well . . . it didn’t wind up being my last gang bang, after all. I did another one six months later. I told you, I have an addiction. In that one, I played a teacher who fucked all my students. I’ve officially been in porn long enough to have come full circle, graduating from schoolgirl to teacher. Somewhere down the line I can be a superintendent, and maybe after I die I’ll have a hallway named after me or something.
My thirty-eighth birthday is around the corner. What kind of last gang bang should I do next?