Thank you for reading my new erotica series, College of Adult Film Studies (CAFS). I am sharing book one, which follows Mia Martin, a young woman who wants to be an adult film star and stumbles upon a college that will train her on exactly how to do so. Each week I will share 500-1000 words with you for your enjoyment.
*The following contains explicit content, 18+ readers, please. Also, this is a draft copy which has not been edited for publication.
College of Adult Film Studies (CAFS)
by D.W. Marshall
All I can do is shake my head. The seventh floor is gorg. There is a sitting area with a flat screen that must be ninety inches. There is a large window that is open and encompasses the entire wall, and faces the strip. Yes! There are a dozen or so couches and chairs scattered around the room, all in a light brown leather. I am seriously trying not to walk around with my mouth wide open. I pass a door that reads “Dining Room”, another door that reads “Residence Laboratory”, and another that reads “Toy Box”. My room is at the end of the hallway. I slide my key in, enter my code, and it opens, I don’t know why I think it might not.
My mouth drops open, I don’t fight it since I am in the room alone, and stays in that position.
My room is perfect. A suite with the perfect view of the Las Vegas strip. King sized bed with sitting area and large bathroom. I drop my things in the middle of the room. “Hells yes!” I spin around and around.
All of my dreams are coming true.
On the center of the small dining table is a gift basket.
Welcome to the College of Adult Film Studies. We are delighted to have you become part of our family.
Inside of the bag are gifts you would expect to receive from a specialty school, barely-there lingerie, vibrators, DVDs, and some gag gifts. Not everything is so tongue in cheek, there are also a box of chocolates and fruit.
With an hour left before orientation which takes place on the first floor, I decide to give myself a personal tour. I slide my keys and badge into my small purse and head out the door. There is much more activity now, as more and more students begin to arrive. The dorm is co-ed just as I had expected. If I had to guess I would say thirty of us on this floor. Again, I am feeling underdressed among the women, everyone is dressed more like the Barbie I met on the elevator. Are five-inch heels a requirement? If so, I’m in trouble because I don’t know how to walk in them.
“Are you in the right place?” I turn to the voice and find an attractive guy, with chocolate unruly hair, and dark brown eyes, popping out of a pale face. “I’m Vance, first year.”
“I’m Mia, first year too.” I smile. “And yes I’m in the right place, I may not dress like it.” But I fuck like it, I don’t say.
“Isn’t this crazy? A school that teaches you the porn business?” he asks.
“Yes, crazy and awesome. Where are you from?” I ask him.
“I’ve never been to Alabama,” he says.
“Well, it’s green.” I sigh. “I’ve never been to California.”
Vance is cute. Not my type. Too skinny, and his skinny jeans only prove my point further.
I don’t get my tour because he is as chatty as he is skinny.
“So what part of the program are you in?” He asks.
“The part where I fuck a lot of guys and maybe some girls in front of the camera,” I say.
His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. “Yeah me too, well minus the guys.”
“Why limit yourself?” I say.
He doesn’t respond. I’m sure he thinks I’m nuts. Good.
“Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Martin would it?”
I look at him as if he has grown a second head. “Uh, yes. How do you know my name?”
“People talk. When I heard about the girl with your name that blew the teachers away during your interview. I wasn’t expecting her to look so …”
“So what?” I ask.
“Normal, I guess. I kind of expected you to be more like …” he looks around. “Like her,” he points and my eyes follow him to another over made up glamazon.
“Well, I guess you guessed wrong,” I say, unable to hide my annoyance. I don’t now if I like the fact that people are talking about me and building false expectations without seeing me. Shit. But, I won’t let any of that destroy my joy. I was born to do this. “Nice meeting you,” I say and scoot of without another word.
Thank you so much for tuning in and reading about Mia’s adventures. I will upload more next week!
© Copyright 2016 D.W. Marshall