❝ pornography ❞

I looked at him through long, mascara-clumpy lashes, my glossy lips pulling into a sensual smile while his fingers eagerly slipped beneath my clothing and peeled fabric from skin. He looked at me with hunger in his eyes, a greedy grin pulling at his lips as he told me that I was “so sexy”. I was hungry too. My mouth salivating with desire; my eyes glittering with lust. I ran my fingers through his short, choppy hair and let him dive his hand into my pants without so much as a second thought.

I felt his lips against my neck, his hands pulling off my clothes while I pulled off his. He was rough and biting, manhandling me onto the bed where cameras and lights all made the place look so aesthetically pleasing. Every angle covered, ready to capture every thrust, every moan, every bit of debauchery between the two of us. My body was oiled, so was his. His body was taut with arousal. Mine was not. I was beautifully relaxed and languid. I younger me would have cried in fear of what's to come.

“You should let me on top, it would make for a good shot.” I murmured, rolling over to straddle his hips where his erection met my core. I hardly gave him a choice in the matter as I sank down and penetrated myself on him and watched his face twisted with pleasure. I was desensitized to the whole thing. Bodies were just slabs of meat on a bed and to make it look like anything but in front of a camera was all cosmetics. The way a farmer puts a prized pig on show before sending it off to the butcher.

He took his pleasure in me, making sure to look at the camera for the perfect shot. I tossed my hair over my shoulder. I giggled on cue. I squealed and I moaned and I cried because even my tears were for the camera. I was Lolita and this was Humbert Humbert’s sick, fetishtic fantasy. I was delectable, tender meat for the viewer to consume.

I leaned down and kissed my co-star's neck. First innocent pecks, then open mouth kisses. He moaned when I bit him. He screamed when my teeth sank in and I ripped out a chunk of his neck. I pulled away — chewing — a piece of muscle stretching then snapping away while blood dripped down my chin and covered my face. He tried to cover the wound where blood spilled rapidly, then he tried to get me off of him. I grabbed his wrist and seductively slipped one of his fingers into my mouth. I bit his ring finger off like one bites a carrot in half. He screamed again, heaving. His eyes were wild with fear, he opened his mouth to scream again but the blood from his wound was gurgling in his throat.

Crimson dripped down my front, blood curving at the cups of my breasts, tracing the contours of my body. It was warm and it was beautiful. I watched his soul leave his body as I kissed his lips, bit the bottom one, and pulled it off of his face with my teeth. His lower teeth and some of his jaw was exposed as I chewed and savored the metallic taste of his blood. The meat itself was rubbery.

I turned back to look over my shoulder and smiled at the camera.