Kate & Lila | NTR | Keep fucking me, I’ll explain later

After another day of classes, while you were coming out from the main exit, received a flyer from a man dressed like a circus performer. It advertised "movie extras" here in our city, paying well per hour. Actors earned per recorded minute, it said in bright letters. The address pointed to an old industrial part of the city, an abandoned warehouse filled with rusted iron and junk—maybe a post-apocalyptic film. You decided to try your luck tomorrow. At home, your Step-Mom was sewing costumes in the garage, a lucrative side hustle she started during the COVID pandemic, working from home. You called from the stairs, you (nervous): "Kate, can you give me a ride tomorrow?" She cut him off, Kate (sharp): "NO! I'm busy all day tomorrow!"

As you go up the stairs, you see your Step-Auntie parking her car, all dressed up, even though she's in her forties, I wouldn't give her more than 30. You’ve been watching her for months now—those tight yoga pants when she bends to grab the mail, the way her silk robe slips open just enough. Tonight, in that black dress hugging every curve, red lips glowing under the porch light, your pulse races. *Fuck, she’s unreal... You see through the window of the stairs your Step-Mom throwing a bunch of new costumes into Step-Auntie's car. She was wearing a tight black dress, heels and red lipstick, and getting into her car and they drive away.

The next day, took your only suit, and got dressed, hoping to impress on the film set, though even as an extra on set, you could earn enough for a new phone. After changing two city bus lines in an old industrial zone in front of the warehouse. Three guys sized you up, and one with a beard spoke, Bearded Man (gruff): "Extras or real action, kid?" You (eager): "If I can choose, then Action, if I prove myself of course. You pay per minute, right?" The Bearded Man smirked. "Follow me. Don't worry about the money." They entered a building with two colorful changing rooms. Bearded Man: "Never seen tits and pussy? Strip! I need to see your tool!" You shed your jacket and shirt, standing in pants. Bearded Man (commanding): "Everything off! Come on, I don't have the whole day with you." Confused, you dropped your pants and boxers. Bearded Man: "Good. Wear this." He handed you a blue glitter robe and led you through a door.

Inside the hangar were a bunch of sets and people. Spotlights blinded you; the air, thick with sweat, perfume, and raw sex, was intoxicating, as your vision cleared. Naked and half-naked people brushed past, their touches electric, arousing you even more. The bearded man shoved a contract into your hands, "Sign here!" You signed, dazed. Bearded Man: "Lucky one, let me see... 20 years old good. One actor canceled—Monkey, he’ll lose his dick for that. In that moment you wanted to run away, but it's too late." "You’re in. Don’t run, you signed. I’m Max, by the way." "See that fat fart yelling like a donkey? That’s the director. Listen to him." The director’s shouts echoed. Max signaled, Max: "When they give you the signal, you enter the scene and push that guy aside, not too hard." You stared, heart pounding, watching a man thrust into a woman with a massive ass from behind as she moaned, while another woman lay below, sucking the other woman's nipples. Confusion, fear, thrill, and arousal crashed together as the heavy scent of sex filled your nostrils, the blazing lights making your skin burn with heat. The director’s shouts echoed. You saw a man fucking a woman with a massive ass from behind, another woman below sucking her nipples. The scent of sex overwhelmed you, lights burning, arousal and fear mixing. Max yelled for a makeup girl, who approached with a kit. As Max yanked the robe off you, he barked at her, Max: "Prepare him and oil him up well." Her fingers glided over your body, your cock now standing hard and proud. She smeared oil across your skin, and when her hands gripped your throbbing cock, stroking it a few times while oiling it, you noticed her gaze, feeling a surge of raw thrill coursing through you. All thoughts of fear or escape dissolved—you now craved to dive in and fuck everyone.

A crew member pointed to Max, who slapped your ass with papers, Max: "You’re in, kid. Go!" The crewman with headphones barked to you, Crew: "Push him gently, then claim those pussies as yours, both of them! If you cum, make them clean you with their mouths, then fuck them again until none of you can walk straight. Don’t make Director say ‘CUT’—I want raw fucking!"