Page 34 of Hard
Chapter 12
PAISLEY
‘Paisley? Could you grab the bounce board for me, sweetie?’
Standing in the kitchen area of the very gorgeous open-plan apartment we’re filming in today, I’m in the middle of making myself a cup of tea when Chastity calls me—on location, no less—from fabulous Barcelona. The apartment in the gothic quarter is nothing short of gorgeous—exposed pale stonework and marble floors, the space filled with sunlight spilling in from a pair of ornate French doors. There’s even a private balcony, which, I’m told, is rare in this ancient part of the city.
Chastity chose well because privacy is the key. No one filming or being filmed in this afternoon’s outdoor sequence wants to draw a crowd. Or be catcalled from nearby windows. Or find themselves the subject of an elderly lady’s showering of holy water and cries ofDios mío!
I’m told this has happened before.
Grabbing the folding reflector, I make my way into the lounge to where Antonio— yes,interview Antonio—has one foot on the floor and his knee on the chair that his partner for the day, Tianka, is kneeling on. It’s odd that I take in their positions before actually registering that the pair are naked.
‘Great,’ Chas says as I hold the silver reflector thingy up. ‘If you could just stand there... that’s it. Up a little bit? It’s just to diffuse the light.’
I hold the thing in front of me while he pretends to hump a very bored looking Tia from behind. Chas, meanwhile, takes some technical readings. Something to do with light ratios or something.
‘Right. We’re just about ready to go. Antonio?’ Of course, we all look at him and then at his flaccid member. Because it doesn’t look very ready. Or very happy. Though it still looks pretty big.
‘I’ll be there now, in a minute, beaut,’ he replies, his gaze flicking up from his crotch because, in the absence of a fluffer—and I’m not sure that fluffer is a job that really exists—Antonio is currently... playing with his man-meat.
I raise the reflector over my face, basically hiding behind it. And so much for thinking Keir couldn’t be Antonio Uccello because of his Scots accent becausethisAntonio doesn’t sound very Italian, either. Unless there’s an Italy in Cardiff. That’s Wales, FYI. His accent is sort of singsong-y with peaks and troughs of tone. But not very Italian.
And I don’t know how I could’ve confused Keir for him—Keir’s like Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra to Antonio’s generic vanilla. Not that I suppose being an adult actor is considered vanilla. But there’s no comparison.
‘That’s a proper tidy result, that is.’
Antonio’s voice brings me back to the moment. I lower the reflector, unprepared to find him talking about his penis. I quickly raise it again because I’m not sure if he’s looking for a congratulations or a round of applause. Also, I need something to hide my giggles behind.
This current moment aside, it’s not like I’ve been present during much filming so far, which means I still struggle to school my expression and remain impassive at the best of times. Sometimes, I feel like someone with Tourette’s syndrome, struggling against the impulse to expel words.I see Dick! Cock! Penis!
I find myself turning bright red as the actors screw.Screw in front of me.Or make an idiot of myself as I tilt my head to the side, wondering how a particular angle works. And then there are the times I just feel ill. The smell of those flavoured lubes turns my stomach some days.
But it’s a job, and it both pays my bills plus it helps my friend out. She tells me she likes having me around. The funny thing is, before Robin fucked his assistant’s assistant, I’d never even watched porn—if you discount Tumblr—never mind watched real live people get it on. It’s not that I’m a prude or anything, but it has been a bit of a culture shock—much more so than when I moved to the UK.
I stifle a yawn as the sound of slapping skin fills the room. I was up late last night.Or rather, Keir was.And when I woke this morning, just as I’d expected, he was gone. I didn’t feel bad about the evening or the experience—quite the opposite as I’d sprawled out in the huge bed and the mass of wrinkled sheets like a starfish, relishing the aches he left me with. And I was okay with waking up alone. I think the act of balancing life and a child must be a pretty difficult one.
It’s strange that I barely know him, but I can totally see him as a dad. Maybe because he’d stood up to Robin for me, or some other act of chivalry I don’t recall. Or maybe I’m just too tired to think straight.
I’m not the only one exhausted, I think as my gaze slides to Chastity. Though she was very close mouthed about her own evening, she’d fallen asleep before our plane had even reached the runway. Also, she has the gait of a woman well tended to in bed.And isn’t that a euphemism unsuitable for a porn set.
‘Oh. Oooohhh!Yes! Like that.’
Tianka’s moans sound totally legit, somehow making my mind wander to last night. Keir might not make his living with his penis, but he absolutely could. The man had moves women would pay to see. Plus, all those hard muscles and that delicious confidence? He’d be a popular one for sure. Not that I’d suggest it to him.Not in a million years.
‘Can you move to the sofa, Tia, darling? Yes, on your back.’
I’m pretty sure most porn isn’t produced the way Fast Girl Media works. For starters, Chastity has a pretty small crew. None of the usual job descriptions you see at the end of a movie’s credits. No gaffer, no grips, no crew. It’s all very small scale, but her work is beautiful, obviously so, even to a novice like me.
‘Paisley, can you cover the pimple on Antonio’s lovely derrière?’
‘What?’ I’m brought back from my musing, my thoughts coming back to earth with a bump.
‘Antonio... he has a spot on his bottom.’
Oh, the glamour of my job.
I conceal his pimple, throw away yet another makeup sponge, and make a mental note to order more when we get back to London. Wondering how long we have left with regards to light, I slide my phone from the back pocket of my skinny jeans to check the time and realise I have a text. I swipe the screen, registering the unknown number. Which can only mean...
