The lights dim slightly as the director calls for quiet on set. My palms are sweating, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I wonder if Morgan can hear it. The chair beneath me feels like it might dissolve at any moment, leaving me to fall through the floor into blessed oblivion.
"Action!"
The word echoes through the studio like a gunshot. I flinch involuntarily, my entire body tensing as the scene begins to unfold before me.
Lana, my Lana, stands at the foot of the bed, her silky negligee catching the light as she moves. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, styled in loose waves that I know took the makeup team at least thirty minutes to perfect. She looks breathtaking, ethereal almost, and completely unlike the woman who curls against me on the couch to watch bad reality TV.
Leo enters from the side, his movements confident and assured. He's wearing blue button-down shirt now, paired with dark slacks that hug his muscular thighs. He looks like he stepped out of a fashion magazine, every inch the successful ex-boyfriend returning to claim what was once his.
"I didn't think you'd actually call me," Leo says, his voice carrying easily across the set. The warmth I'd heard when we talked about Zelda is completely gone, replaced by a cocky self-assurance that makes my skin crawl.
Lana turns to face him, and even from this distance, I can see her expression change. Her features soften, her eyes taking on a hungry look.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," she replies, her voice breathy with desire. "Not since that day at the coffee shop."
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. This is just acting, I remind myself. Just a performance. But my heart doesn't seem to get the message as it pounds painfully in my chest.
Leo moves closer to her, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. The gesture is intimate, tender in a way that makes my stomach twist into knots.
"What about your husband?" he asks, though his tone suggests he couldn't care less about the answer. "What about Adam?"
Hearing my name from his lips feels like a violation, a direct punch to the gut. I grip the arms of my chair so tightly my knuckles turn white.
Lana laughs, the sound nothing like her real laugh. This one is lower, more seductive. "Adam's at work," she says dismissively. "He'll be gone for hours. He''ll never suspect a thing."
Leo's hand traces down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You always were a bad girl," he murmurs, leaning in close. "That's what I loved about you."
Their lips meet in a kiss that's nothing like the gentle ones they shared earlier. This is hungry, desperate, almost violent in its intensity. Leo's hands slide down to cup Lana's ass, pulling her against him with possessive force.
I can't look away as Leo spins her around, pressing her face-down onto the mattress. He yanks the negligee up over her hips, exposing her completely. The cameras zoom in as he smacks her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint.
"You've been thinking about this cock, haven't you?" Leo growls, unbuckling his belt with practiced efficiency. "Dreaming about it while your pathetic husband fucks you?"
"Yes," Lana moans, arching her back to push herself against him. "God, yes."
Leo pulls his cock out impossibly thick and long and slaps it against her ass. The sound echoes through the studio, making me flinch. He rubs himself between her legs, coating himself in her wetness.
"You're fucking soaked," he says with a cruel laugh. "Does your husband ever make you this wet?"
"Never," Lana gasps, and though I know it's just acting, the word pierces me like a knife.
Without warning, Leo slams into her, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Lana screams, not a fake porn scream, but a genuine cry of surprise and pleasure that I've never heard from her before.
"Fuck, you're still so tight," Leo groans, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as he starts pounding into her with ruthless intensity.
The bed shakes violently beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Lana's moans grow louder, more desperate, punctuated by the obscene slapping sounds of skin against skin.
Leo's eyes suddenly lock with mine across the set. His expression shifts into something almost like pity, before he deliberately turns Lana's face toward me. Her eyes meet mine as Leo continues to pound into her from behind, and there's something in her gaze I can't decipher, triumph? Apology? Challenge?
What the fuck?
"Tell me who fucks you better," Leo demands, yanking her hair back so her spine arches painfully. "Say it loud enough for the world to hear."
"You do," Lana cries out, her eyes still on mine. "You fuck me so much better than Adam ever could."
The air in the studio feels thick, suffocating. I can't tear my eyes away as Leo flips Lana over, positioning her on her back. He hooks her legs over his shoulders, folding her nearly in half as he slams back into her with brutal force. The camera operators circle like vultures, capturing every angle of their union.
"You like that, baby?" Leo growls, his hands gripping her throat lightly. "You missed this cock, didn't you?"
"Yes!" Lana screams, her voice raw and desperate. "God, yes! It's so fucking big!"
I've watched porn my entire adult life. Hell, I've watched Lana's scenes countless times, stroking myself to completion as nameless men plowed into her. In those private moments alone with my laptop, I'd feel that strange mixture of arousal and humiliation, my cock hardening despite, or perhaps because of the jealousy twisting in my gut.
But this is different. Sitting here, watching Leo's muscular ass flex as he drives into Lana, hearing her genuine cries of pleasure, seeing the way her fingers dig into his back, I feel nothing but hollow devastation. My dick remains completely soft, a betrayal of my usual response to such explicit imagery.
Leo pulls out suddenly, his cock glistening with Lana's juices. "Suck it," he commands, and without hesitation, she scrambles to her knees, taking him eagerly into her mouth. She moans around his length, her eyes fluttering closed in apparent ecstasy.
My stomach churns with nausea. This doesn't feel like watching porn. It feels like watching my girlfriend cheat on me in real time, with my full knowledge and permission.
Why the fuck did I agree to this? What the fuck is wrong with me?
Something inside of me starts rattling loose.
Leo pulls Lana back from her knees, manhandling her onto all fours with an aggressive confidence that makes my heart sink deeper. He positions himself behind her again, gripping her hips with both hands before slamming into her with such force that the entire bed frame shudders.
"You want it harder?" he growls, his voice carrying across the set.
"Harder!" Lana gasps, her back arched at an impossible angle. "Please, Leo, harder!"
He complies immediately, one hand sliding up her spine to wrap around her throat from behind. His fingers tighten visibly as he continues his relentless pace, pulling her head back until her spine forms a perfect bow. The chokehold seems too rough, too real, but Lana's response is unmistakable, pure ecstasy.
"Is this what you want?" Leo snarls, his grip tightening further as he pounds into her.
My stomach lurches as Lana's eyes find mine across the studio again. There's something in her gaze, a smugness, a challenge, as if she's daring me to stop this or admit I hate it. All while Leo's hand restricts her airflow, her face flushing deep crimson.
"Harder!" she manages to choke out, the word barely audible through her restricted throat.
Leo switches his grip, releasing her throat only to wrap both hands around it from behind, applying even more pressure as he continues his brutal pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the studio, punctuated by Lana's choked moans and Leo's animalistic grunts.
I glance around desperately, wondering if anyone else finds this concerning, but the crew continues filming with professional detachment. Morgan sits beside me, her expression unreadable as she watches the scene unfold.
After what feels like an eternity, Leo finally releases Lana's throat. She gasps for air, her chest heaving as she draws deep, desperate breaths. Without warning, she twists around, capturing Leo's mouth in a passionate kiss that seems to catch even him by surprise.
When they break apart, I can see angry red marks blooming on either side of her neck, perfect imprints of Leo's fingers forming what will undoubtedly become dark bruises. The sight makes my blood run cold. Those aren't stage marks. They're too deep, too real.
Lana shifts position again, straddling Leo with practiced ease. She rides him furiously, her back to his chest as they continue kissing over her shoulder. Her movements are fluid, familiar, like they've done this countless times before.
"Cut! Everyone take ten!"
But Lana and Leo don't stop. The cameras have stopped rolling, but they continue as if they haven't heard the director's call. Leo's hands still grip her hips possessively as Lana grinds against him, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm. The passionate intensity between them hasn't diminished at all despite the director's command.
The crew exchanges uncomfortable glances, some averting their eyes while others watch with professional detachment. I sit frozen, unable to process what I'm witnessing.
"Uhh, Lana?" the makeup artist finally calls out, her voice tentative and awkward. "We need to touch up your makeup for the next segment."
They finally separate, both breathing heavily. Lana's eyes find mine one last time, and in that moment, something clicks into place.
I am a fucking loser.
I can't believe I dated a porn star.
What the fuck was I even thinking?
My girlfriend just cheated on me in front of an entire film crew, in front of me. I don't even know what her goal is here. Is this some sort of punishment for breaking up in highschool. Is she mad about the shoot she pushed me into?
This is insane.
I feel oddly calm as I pull out my phone and order an Uber. The app tells me the driver is three minutes away. Perfect. I stand up, my movements mechanical as I gather my jacket from the back of the chair.
"Wait, Adam, where are you going?" Morgan asks, her voice laced with concern that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
I don't answer her. I can't form words around the lump in my throat. I simply turn and walk toward the exit, my footsteps echoing in the suddenly quiet studio.
Morgan's heels click rapidly against the concrete as she follows me through the maze of hallways. "Adam, wait!" she calls, her voice echoing off the walls. "You shouldn't be alone right now."
I push through the exit door, the cool outside air hitting my face like a slap. The afternoon sun seems too bright, too normal for the nightmare I just witnessed.
"Adam, please!" Morgan catches up to me, her hand grasping my arm. "Wait, wait, let me drive you home. You're in no condition to be by yourself."
I turn to face her, surprised by the genuine concern in her eyes. For a moment, I almost reconsider.
"I'm sorry, Morgan. I already got an Uber," I say, my voice sounding hollow and distant even to my own ears.
"It's no problem, just cancel it," she insists, pulling out her keys. "My car's right there. We can talk this through."
I check my phone. The Uber app shows my driver is pulling up, a silver Toyota Corolla. I spot it turning into the parking lot.
"Sorry, the car's already here," I say, pulling away from her grip and walking toward the approaching vehicle.
"Wait, Adam, let's talk," she says, her voice taking on an edge of desperation I've never heard before. "I can help you. I want to help you."
I slide into the backseat, finally meeting her eyes. I can't read them at all. They look hungry in a strange way.
I just don't care right now.
"Morgan, I think you're really great, but I can't right now. I just... can't."
I close the door before she can respond, watching her shrink in the rear window as the car pulls away. She stands motionless in the parking lot, her red hair bright against the gray building, looking strangely vulnerable for the first time since I've known her.