The interviewer welcoming her, his words translated by a female assistant. Asking introductory questions. Normal job, dance trainer. Does your boyfriend know you’re here? Yes. Why are you here? To do a photoshoot. Do you know what sort of photos? Shrug of shoulders.
The scene spiraling away, transitioning to another, same sofa, same woman, different clothes, different season’s light in the air. Her beauty still radiant. The interviewer’s voice, hello, you’re back. Embarrassed smile from her. So now you want to have those photos taken? Prolonged exchange between translator and the woman, two sympathetic women’s voices. Then the translator, she says she’s thought about it and wants to do it, she needs the money. Okay, ask her to take her clothes off.
The woman standing, unzipping her dress from behind, lowering it, stepping out of it, folding it, putting it aside. Quickly removing her underclothes, putting them neatly on the dress.
The scene shifting to the bedroom. The naked woman on the bed. The interviewer, also naked, kissing her nipples. The tiniest quiver rippling through her body. The man moving down, gently parting her legs, lifting her knees, licking her. A soft gasping sound, intaken breath. Her back arching slightly in whole-body surprise. Settling.
Changing position. He on his back, she sucking him. Sitting astride, guiding him inside. The camera panning to her face, an expression of lover’s oblivion. Her sexual beauty timeless. She moving to all-fours, entered from behind. Soon too much for the man, his explosion clearly premature for the normal porn script. Flopping down beside her, pulling her to him for a hug, in love with her.
As am I. A sensational porn movie.
