Dawn Robertson - Finding Willow

“You like my cunt, baby?”

Her moan vibrates against my nipple as her mouth trails up my body. “Fuck me, Star,” she whimpers against my skin, and that is all the encouragement I need. I reach for the strap-on lying unused on the bedroom nightstand, and I strap it between my legs. I slide down her body until my mouth is flush with her perfectly waxed pussy, and I lick up and down her folds before positioning the rubber cock at her entrance.

I run the tip of the dick up and down her lips, teasing her clit, before finally plunging deep into her.

“Oh God!” she gasps in between her throaty moans. “Right there! Yeah, baby! That’s the spot!”

The harder I fuck her, the more the strap-on rubs my aching clit, and the more my body is ready for release again as I take out my fucked-up life on the pussy of this twenty-one-year-old extra in my latest film. The more I think about her, the more I realize she’s me, seven years ago. Using sex with anyone and anything to get out of her own head for a couple hours. I can’t even hate her, because I am doing the same thing at the moment. But damn, she is a fucking fantastic distraction.

“You like that? You like it when I fuck you?” I whisper into her ear, and I feel her body start to shake under my touch. Her mouth opens and scream after scream exits as she gasps for air in between each shout. One last thrust into her, and my swollen nub sets me off. I collapse against her gorgeous set of tits, and I feel content for the first time all day.

I roll off of her, reaching for the robe beside the bed. Without making eye contact, whatever her name is slips back into the barely there black dress she had on when I picked her up after filming and struts out the door. She doesn’t look back. We both knew what we came here for, and we got it.

As my body still recovers from the aftershocks of the orgasm, I sprawl out across the lonely king size bed. Maybe one day someone will stay the night?

I’m at a loss in life. I look over at the nightstand next to my bed; it’s strewn in shit. Cell phone, condoms, lube, my journal, Hostess cupcake wrappers, a couple empty bottles of soda, and, of course, an empty Gray Goose bottle. I love vodka. If you drink enough of it, life goes away. The memories disappear. The pain subsides. That is, until the alcohol isn’t enough.

That’s typically when I start snorting coke. A line here and there never killed anyone. It takes away the pain that the vodka won’t. Yeah, I’m fucked up. My life has been fucked up, ever since the first time he touched me.

That first time, I was eight, and afraid. My parents left for a night full of partying, sticking my best friend, Seven, and me with her older brother, Blue. It wasn’t anything we weren’t used to growing up. In fact, our parents were rarely around at all, so we just grew used to it.

Seven had fallen asleep, leaving me with the twenty-one-year-old man. Looking back, who would leave a man that age watching two little girls? Big brother or not, it wasn’t right. My story proves that.

We watched some Disney movie, sitting side-by-side on the couch together. I didn’t notice the bulge in his pants, but then again what fucking eight-year-old little girl would even look at a man’s crotch? I wasn’t naïve. I knew what sex was. Only because our parents were so whoreish about it, though. Kind of like I am today. I could have lived an entire lifetime blocking out all those memories. Which I did for almost a fucking decade. Until I decided therapy would be smart. Hypno-fucking-therapy. I’m just glad I don’t remember shit else.

“Star, I want to show you something,” Blue said as he reached into his pants.

“What is it?” I asked innocently. My attention drifted between his movements and The Little Mermaid. I really liked Ariel; her bright red hair made her so unique. I was blonde, like a lot of people. I wasn’t unique. I didn’t stand out.

“Look, Star.”

His words were gentle, soft almost. Blue had never been this nice to me or to Seven. That was when I noticed. He didn’t have any pants on. They were gone.

His… his… oh my! His boy parts were in his hand.

“Look, honey,” he cooed at me. “Why don’t you touch it? Don’t be afraid, Star.”

That’s how it all began. Acceptance. Love. A misplaced need to be cherished by another person. I didn’t know until years later that what he was doing was horrible. It was bad. It was something no one should ever do to a child. Fucking ever. But it happened to me, and it tainted me for life. I was a carefree little girl until Blue ruined me, and still continues to ruin me to this day.

Maybe I’m just as fucked up as everyone says I am, because I let him in my life. And when he calls, I willingly fuck him with everything I have.

I don’t think I will ever know why, but I do know that what he did to me is exactly why I chose to make a career out of fucking.

“Are you even listening to me, Star?”

My manager rambles off something about a new film that Lovestruck Entertainment wants me for. I scroll through my phone, typing out a text to Paisley, my baby sister.

Sup Kiddo

I miss my sisters. Over the years, we’ve all drifted too far apart. Paisley lives in Florida, and Journey still lives in Woodstock under the thumb of our parents. She’ll probably never leave.

I continue to ignore my manager, Katy, as she drones on about the new porno.

“Star, you aren’t listening to a damn thing I’m saying!”

Okay, so now she’s pissed and has my attention. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think she was hot when she gets pissed off. Her bright blue eyes and pouty lips pull me in, even while she’s yelling at me. Today she looks like your run of the mill school girl. Short black skirt, white button down shirt, hell, she would be perfect with pigtails. Instead, her red locks sit on top of her head in a messy bun with a pencil sticking out of it.

“Sign me up.”

I wave her away and she pushes down her black cat-eyed glasses and I continue texting. Paisley replies with an extravagant story about some sexy biker she hooked up with for Biketoberfest in Daytona. I wish she would’ve just gone to college like Seven. She could have taken over the world with her impressive intelligence, instead of slipping into the same nomad lifestyle we were raised in. The sad part is, none of us will ever be able to give it up completely. As much as I despise it, it’s all I’ll ever know.

“What is going on with you, Star?”

I’m strung out; that’s what’s wrong. Coke isn’t cutting it anymore, and as much as I want to turn to harder shit, I just can’t.

“You need to go to rehab again, Star, don’t you?”

This is typically what it comes down to. It sounds like a good idea. Maybe I could actually keep my shit together this time around. Doubtful, though. What bothers me the most is the fact that Seven will be disappointed in me. Everyone else’s opinions can suck a fat dick.

“Yeah, Katy. I think I need to give it the good ol’ college try again. Maybe I can get it right this time?”

I push a strand of hot pink hair out of my eyes and stand up from the chair. My jeans used to cling tightly to my ass, but now, the curve of my butt is disappearing. The blue My Little Ponies shirt clings to my D cup breasts, something I’m glad the drugs haven’t started to take from me.