Will Work for Pussy

Natalia Starr needed an assistant. She needed someone discreet. Someone who could handle calls, keep records, deal with all the small tasks that kept her brand afloat. When Whitney Wright applied, the woman had no idea what she was really walking into. Natalia was blunt about it. Can't advertise she's an adult star, can she? Too risky. Whitney admitted she knew anyway. Said her husband owns some of Natalia's films. Sometimes she watches them with him, even though she's not into women. Natalia studied her face while she said it and wondered if she was lying. Not about knowing who she was. About everything else. Something in the way Whitney stood there, polite and nervous, looking like she'd break if you touched her too hard. Natalia told her she'd be pretty enough for porn. Whitney laughed, looked away, said she'd never do something like that. Natalia moved her into the next room, close enough she could hear everything. She told her she'd be camming the whole time, reach her if needed. Once the door clicked shut, Natalia stripped down, oiled up, and got to work in front of her viewers. The comments rolling in fast and filthy, same old game. Whitney knocked ten minutes later. She looked embarrassed walking in, explaining the laptop locked her out. Natalia stayed bare, viewers flooded with questions once they saw another woman on screen. They wanted them both, all at once. Natalia smiled at the screen. Said she didn't know about that one. Maybe. Maybe she could get her to try. Her viewers wanted it. They told her to. So she called Whitney back. Asked her to bring water. The request was nothing, just a glass, but there was nothing innocent about what she did with it. Natalia finished fast, legs open, wet all over her own fingers. Then the second time she called her in. Told her to clean her off. Whitney blushed hard, but didn't argue. She wiped slowly at first. Careful with the towel across Natalia's thighs and stomach. Careful until her fingers brushed skin and her breath caught. Natalia didn't need another excuse. The third time she didn't pretend. She reached straight for Whitney's blouse, worked the buttons free one by one, let the fabric fall where it wanted. The webcam was done and off. Natalia kissed hard, moved like she'd waited all day to touch her. Whitney stopped pretending she didn't want it. Her hands went to Natalia's hips and the whole space between them vanished. Natalia wanted her all night. Whitney didn't stop her.