MissCalico: blog

For Friday’s shoot, wardrobe dressed me up as a cheerleader.

“It’s not porn without sneakers,” I sighed, resigning myself to being typecast once again as the girl next door.

Harmony Rose and Lorelei Lee got grown-up clothes: two elegant cocktail dresses. We looked at each other and were stumped.

“You guys are having a cocktail party and I knock at the door fundraising?” I suggested. “You’re my mother’s friends and I come home late? Wait, that’s wrong, but awesome.”

“We get drunk and decide to crash the football game?” suggested Harmony.

“A football game… with no football players and one cheerleader?” I said, dubious.

I have plenty of experience fundraising (Thin Mints, anyone?), but the roleplay was incidental. When the two of them started taking off their clothes, inviting me to look, I was speechless.

They shoved me in a box at the end of that scene and accidentally locked it. Commence panic outside and much amusement inside. The key turned out to be right on the side of the box. It’s nice to know the professionals mess up too.

With no further technical difficulties, they proceeded to fuck me senseless. Incredibly, Lorelei even fisted me — a first for me, on the receiving end. I cannot believe I have been missing out on this.

That was the first half of my day. I had put myself back together and was heading out the door for my date that night when Matt Williams peeked in my door. “Calico?”

“Yeah, hi, what’s up?”

“Do you want to wrestle?”

“Uh, now?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. I was still holding the phone. “Let me call my date back?”

Twenty minutes later, I had put my date on the guest list, and was on the mat for my second shoot of the day: a live four-girl wrestling match (with Isis Love, Vendetta, and Claire Dames). I’m beginning to accept that I will never wrestle anyone of my weight and inexperience. In one of the night’s more entertaining moments, Vendetta choked me out with my own arm. Then in the winner’s round, Isis fisted me again, just for good measure. My patient date found the whole business highly amusing.

After all the girl fisting he was curious to see if he could do it. Conclusion: boy-on-girl fisting is possible, but not as well engineered. By that point I was delirious and pretty much everything felt good, even the things that didn’t, and we proceeded to fuck until I had crescent-moon bite marks on the insides of my arms, from covering my mouth to keep from screaming.

Now I’m off to find new luggage and make an appearance at Kinky Salon before my flight back to New York. I’m very ready for this semester to be over.