Total Feminine Reality
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Escaping Reality free porn video
Connor McLander pranced five steps to his right, paused a half measure, looked left, right, left, and then dropped to one knee with a fist resting playfully under his chin. Just like he’d rehearsed. In his periphery, he saw his bandmates had dropped precisely in sync, just as the roaring crescendo of the band ceased and the lights swung out to the crowd. The brief silence was overtaken by a deafening roar of 20,000 kids screaming at the top of their lungs. It was the same ending for every concert – a stupid dance to a childish song and then absolute, bloody chaos.
Connor jumped up and sprinted to the stage exit, then down the aluminum ramp and into the bowels of the coliseum. These places were all the same backstage – high and wide concrete hallways that had an unpleasant echo and a less pleasant smell. God he hated that smell, whatever it was.
He slowed to a brisk walk and rounded a corner en route to his dressing room when he was blindsided. Four screaming girls, probably not yet in their teens, were dressed head-to-toe in his boy band’s regalia and bounced with excitement. Connor’s entire body flinched and he stumbled to his left, crashing his shoulder into the concrete wall. During the fall, he couldn’t help but think the girls looked like they were bouncing on invisible pogo sticks.
“Goddammit!” he shouted, half at the girls and half at his aching shoulder. The group continued to bounce and a camera flash from one of their phones caused him to flinch again.
“AHHH!” he screamed in response to the flash, mocking the girls’ excitement. “AAAHHHHH! STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME!”
The girls’ chaperone was standing behind them, a middle-aged woman with an air of country club aristocracy, and she frowned at his outburst. One by one, the pogo sticks lost their spring and the girls joined their guardian in frowning.
The woman scolded, “That is no way to treat your biggest fans, young man. I paid top dollar to get them back here and…” Connor looked away, covered his ears and ran past them to his dressing room. He slammed the door, locked it, and let out a cathartic and unintelligible scream.
“That’s right, baby!” his agent, Denny, said from the desk in the far corner of the room. “You hear those crazy fuckers out there? That’s the sound of money, baby!”
“Fuckin’ aye, Denny. You scared me. I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
“Heeeyyy, watch that language, golden boy. You remember your contract renewal, right? And the fines involved if someone tapes you acting in a manner unbecoming of your character?” He always used an annoying robot voice when paraphrasing contract legalese. “That little F-bomb you just dropped is exactly what some paparazzi fucker is looking for.” Denny rose from the desk and approached Connor.
“What’s the matter, kiddo? You look like shit.”
“I don’t know, Denny. I feel like I’m about to lose it. I can’t –“
Denny playfully slapped Connor on the shoulder, the one still throbbing from his collision with the wall, and smiled from behind shaded glasses and a pencil-thin goatee.
“Cheer up! You’re in the money, kid, and you gotta get it while you can. You’re what, seventeen now? If you stay the course for another couple of years, you’ll never have to work another day in your life. Ya lucky, prick.” The last sentence was said with a glimmer of parental admiration. “Now, get some sleep or rub one off or whatever you gotta do. It’s late and your appearance at the Girl Scouts convention is bright and early.
At that, Denny opened the door to the dressing room and disappeared into the noisy hallway.
-----
Olivia Miller finished scrubbing the last dish in the sink, then dipped it in the rinse water and perched it on a rack to dry. She hummed an old, familiar tune as she shook water from her hands, then untied her apron and hung it on the pantry door.
“All done!” she yelled to the back of the dark house. No reply.
Olivia crept down the hallway to the den, careful to navigate the old floor and avoid the creaky spots. She leaned into the doorway and saw her father asleep in his chair, head tilted back, a faint snore creeping from his open mouth. A tattered bible lay in his lap, opened to the front of the book, no doubt to the Old Testament passages he enjoyed. Across from his chair with her back facing Olivia, her mother swayed rhythmically in an old rocking chair, gentle creaks keeping time to the silent whir of her knitting needles. A distant relative’s grandfather clock ticked in the corner, a beat slightly counter to the creaks of the chair.
Sensing her moment, Olivia retraced her steps down the hall and quietly climbed the stairs to her room. After closing and locking the door, she unbuttoned her full-body dress and flopped it on her neatly made rope bed. She stood in front of the mirror against her wall and stared at an olive skinned, sixteen year old girl wearing traditional Amish undergarments – baggy, white, cotton shorts which came to her knees and a short sleeved under-blouse. The girl in the mirror donned a tight bun atop her head and sad frown upon her face. Slowly and deliberately, Olivia removed the bobby pins from her hair, releasing a cascade of dirty blonde that came to a bouncing rest near the small of her back. The frown lessened.
She paused, cocking her head to listen for the sound of anyone approaching, then retrieved a small package from under the bed. Unfolding the cloth exterior, Olivia extracted a pair of cutoff blue jeans and a sleek, white tank top. She glanced once more toward the door, then touched her sinful treasures, absorbing the foreign textures.
Olivia placed the devil’s clothes on her bed and continued inspecting the tanned girl in the mirror. She slowly removed the Amish undergarments and stood staring, taking in her newly changed body. She ran a finger from her shoulder, between her perky breasts and down to her naval. She paused her hand, then continued south to the freshly shaven area above her virginity. A few days ago she had secreted daddy’s straight razor from the bathroom cupboard and removed the stubborn, bronze hairs that she disliked. Afterward, the patch of skin became so smooth that she couldn’t help rubbing small circles on it. In her curious excitement, she had accidently rubbed too far down and the resulting symphony of feelings had sent her back to the privacy of her bedroom whenever she could manage.
She closed her eyes and began the circular motion, very light and occasionally brushing what she didn’t yet know was called her clit. Her circles grew faster and she soon abandoned the smooth patch of skin completely. Her free hand found itself on her left breast, her fingers rolling a taught nipple. Her mind left the dim bedroom and flashed to last summer when she came across the boys swimming in Cove Creek. Paul Vanderhaven, shirtless and smiling, water dripping from his angular jaw to his rippled stomach. Her hips began to gyrate and her toenails pressed into the wood floor.
Suddenly, Olivia jumped at the sound of a noise behind her. She turned around, covering herself with her arms, and found the angry gaze of her mother. Mrs. Miller had somehow managed to unlock the door and had been standing there for no telling how long. The old woman stared rage into Olivia’s eyes, then slapped her, hard, across the cheek.
“What have you done to yourself?” she hissed, pointing at the bare patch below her navel. She then glanced at the bed and saw the shorts and blouse that lay next to the traditional dress. Anger further reddened her brow and she slapped Olivia a second time.
“The devil is in you, child! I’ve said it before, and I mean it. I have a mind to banish you this moment, but it would likely be the death of your poor father. I have no doubt that’s the Devil’s plan with you, so I won’t assist in his evil deeds. Instead, you’re going to stay here and learn to become a proper young lady, whether you like it or not! And as for those…those, rags. I would burn them myself, but I refuse to touch that which Satan’s hand hath sewn. I will be back up here tomorrow morning, and those will be out of this house, do you understand me?”
Olivia could do nothing but fight back tears as a dull heat grew in her jaw.
At that, the matriarch turned, her piercing eyes locked with Olivia’s for a last few seconds, and then left the room as quietly as she had entered.
-----
Fed up and hell-bent on escaping his concrete trap, Connor had found an errant SECURITY shirt laying in his dressing room and threw it over a hoodie he retrieved from his closet. With his head concealed below the hood and plodding carefully to avoid another pre-teen attack squad, he stalked through the hallways until he found an exit door. Opening it, as quietly as he could manage, he peeked outside, first to the left, then to the right, and when the coast seemed clear he took off into the nighttime heat. Unsure of where he was going, he trudged onward, knowing that he had to get away or he was going to lose his mind.
He’d walked no further than a few steps when a thick New England accent was hurled at him. “Hey, you! Where the fuck ah you goin? Our shift ain’t ovah for another hour at least!”
“Shit,” Connor uttered under his breath. He’d tried an escape once before and it had caused a real shit storm. Since then, Denny had paid off his parents to become his legal guardian, making future escapes less likely. Connor walked over to the owner of the harsh accent, a white man of nearly sixty with an unfortunate hairline and hook nose to match. A larger version of the SECURITY shirt covered his protruding stomach and a stubby cigarette wafted smoke from between yellow fingers.
“I didn’t say nothing over the radio about needing folks in the south lot. What gives? And why the fuck are you wearing a goddam sweatshirt? It’s July, for Christ sake.” By this time, Connor had moved close enough for the sentry to get a look at his face. The old man squinted tired eyes, examining Connor from head to toe. Connor stood there, resigned to the fact that escape was impossible. Then the old man spoke.
“You’re that kid from the band, aren’t you? Connor or Carson or something?”
“Yeah, I-I mean yes sir.” Connor’s gaze dropped to the cracked asphalt between them, waiting to hear the chirp of a radio and a report of his breach.
“Well, what the hell are you doing out here wearing a security shirt, young fella?” A hint of kindness was smothered somewhere beneath the Boston twang.
Connor attempted to start about three sentences all at once, then utter frustration squeezed shut his lips and began to ooze from his tear ducts. “Can I bum one of those smokes?” he finally asked the old man.
“Sure, kid. I’m probably supposed to say no, but I’m afraid your head might explode if I did. Plus, I’ve been smoking since I was a good bit younger than you and I’m still here, kicking around. Fuck ‘em, that’s what I say.” He flicked his wrist and a brown-tipped cigarette shot halfway out of the pack, a move that had obviously been repeated thousands of times over the years. He extended the protruding stick to Connor.
“Thanks,” Connor said, trying to mask the budding tears. “Fuck ‘em. That’s what I like to say, too.”
“Uh, huh. Sure you do, kid.” The old man lit Connor’s cigarette and threw his own expired butt onto the ground.
Connor felt emboldened by the old man’s remarks and took a risk. “Look, this is all I’ve done since I was, like, eight years old. And now my agent has custody over me and these stadiums are like fucking prisons. I just need to get away, just for a little while, or I think I’m going to lose it. Any chance you could look the other way while I slip out?”
The old man inspected Connor again, then ejected another cigarette from the pack and lit it. It seemed to take weeks for the old man to take a drag, hold it in, and then exhale loudly before speaking. “Look, kid. It’s a free country. So as far as I’m concerned, you can do whatever the hell you want. But I wouldn’t just take off walking in this part of town, not a pretty white boy like you.” The old man paused for another moment, puffing the cigarette and exhaling thoughtfully. “I tell you what, I’ll do you one better. But mum’s the word, alright? This job is shit, but it’s still the only thing keeping a roof over my head.”
“Absolutely, sir! We never spoke and I never saw you!”
“All right, all right. Calm down, golden boy.”
Connor shot him a look, wondering if every adult called him that behind his back.
“Here’s the deal. You see that old, white pickup just outside the fence? That’s our backup security truck. Probably hasn’t moved in a month or more.”
Connor nodded along with each word.
“If someone were to find the Security Office inside, and this same someone were to look on the far wall, they might see a set of keys hanging on a nail. And as the manager on duty, I just so happen to know that there won’t be anyone in that Security Office for at least another half hour or so. Do you catch where I’m going with this, son?”
Connor had passed the Security Office on his way outside and knew exactly where it was located. He started back toward the creaky door and paused mid-step. “Sir, where the hell are we? And, where the hell am I going to go?”
The old man coughed a plume of smoke as he laughed. “A real big planner, aren’t ya? Do you want me to do the running away for you, too? Come here. I’m sure you have one of those fancy phones. Pull up the map and give it to me.”
Connor plucked an iPhone from his jeans pocket, opened the appropriate app and handed it to the old man.
“My granddaughter can’t follow directions for shit. This is the only way I can get her anywhere.” As he spoke, the old man swiped a fat pointer finger about the screen as if chasing a digital bug. He eventually caught and dispatched the bug, pressing his finger hard on the screen. “There. I’ve marked a lake house that’s been in my family for years. No one goes there anymore, except for me occasionally to knock the cobwebs off and make sure the water heater hasn’t busted. There’s a key under one of the flower pots on the back porch. Do me a favor and clean up after yourself. And whether or not you get all of this shit out of your system, I’m calling the cops if that truck doesn’t find its way back to that parking spot by in the next day or two. Understand?”
Awestruck, Connor retrieved his phone from the old man and looked down at the pin-drop on the screen. “Ohio,” he said to himself. “I couldn’t remember if we were in Columbus or Pittsburg.”
“You better get going, now. You have a good two hour drive ahead of you, and it’s already late.”
“Why are you doing this?” Connor asked, still stunned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally grateful. But why are you giving me a car and keys to your house? You don’t even know me.”
“I gotta say, kid, if I was forced to sing that terrible shit you guys sing, I’d lose my fucking mind, too. No offense or nothing. Plus, you’re some kind of millionaire, right? I’d probably be better off if you fucked up my lake house and I got to sue your little ass!” Smoke billowed again as he laughed at the thought. “Now go on. Get out of here.”
Connor didn’t have to be told again. He took off in a trot toward the creaky door, the car keys and his freedom. “Thank you, sir,” he shouted over his no longer aching shoulder. The old man simply fanned a half-smoked cigarette in Connor’s direction as a reply.
-----
Olivia waited until her parents had gone to sleep and escaped from her bedroom window. Knowing the thorny path she would take, she had redressed in the thick dress and put her remaining possessions in an old, leather suitcase. She knew that they would come for her, and knew they would assume she had taken the direct route to the main highway. So using the light of the full moon, Olivia took the path through the back pasture, eventually finding Cove Creek and following it more than a mile to a smaller highway. Here she changed into the devil’s clothes and used the dress to cover her body from the aerial assault of mosquitos. She hid on the edge of the woods and sometime in the night she fell asleep to thoughts of what lay before her.
-----
Connor’s escape from Nationwide Arena went off without a hitch. The Security Office had been deserted and the keys were on the wall, just as the old man had said. Connor started the truck and followed the phone’s directions north through the city and eventually to Interstate 71. As he left the metro and the city lights diminished, the light of the stars and a full moon replaced their intensity. Connor made it around 30 miles before realizing that he needed a charger for his phone to continue using the directions. He pulled over at a gas station, filled up the truck and purchased a car charger without anyone letting on that they recognized him. After returning to the truck, he began to feel the pull of sleep and decided to catch a short nap in the parking lot.
-----
Olivia woke in a start to the sound of a passing semi. It was now morning, but she could tell from the angle of the sun that it was still early. Gathering her wits and her belongings, she waited in the hiding spot until she saw a white pickup crest a far hill, speeding toward her. She said a silent prayer and, with trembling hands clutching her suitcase, she calmly strode to the side of the road. In the most seductive way she could imagine, she stuck her thumb in the air and waited. She’d heard stories of other’s escaping their community by hitchhiking, but all of them had wildly horrible endings that made her doubt their authenticity. So it was somewhat to her surprise when the truck slowed and stopped beside her.
The passenger window lowered and Olivia was rendered unable to move. Though she had never been inside an automobile, she had seen thousands driving along the various roads around their community. She knew this to be an ordinary truck, but behind the wheel sat the most extraordinary person she had ever seen. Piercing blue eyes set above rigid cheek bones stared a mix of kindness and lust into her. His full lips were light pink, which contrasted with the tanned skin along his strong jawline in a way that was difficult to look away from. His brown hair was unlike anything she had seen before - trimmed short on the sides but longer and flowing above his head in a way that, by definition, should’ve looked ridiculous, if it weren’t so stunning. He was by far the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her life, be it a man, woman, Amish or outsider. A slight grin tugged the crease of her mouth, the first movement she’d been able to muster in the stretched seconds since the window dropped. It was a reaction to a silly notion that she couldn’t shake from her mind. For some reason she felt like bouncing with joy at the sight of the treasure before her. And then he spoke.
“Where are you headed? I’m not going very far from here, but you’re welcome to join me.” Olivia noticed that he had a strange smirk on his face and the tone of his voice was almost like the words were scripted or rehearsed. Or maybe as if he expected her to recognize him. Unable to pinpoint it, she attempted to shoo the thought from her mind.
“O-Ok,” Olivia muttered. She remained standing, unsure of what to do next amid the whirlpool of thoughts flooding her mind.
“Well, if you’re up for it, it might be best to put your suitcase in the back and then actually get inside the truck.” Olivia sensed that he was joking with her, but the instructions were desperately needed. Finally snapping out of her paralysis, she flung the suitcase in the bed of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. The door swung shut and the truck gurgled over the hill and out of sight.
Connor watched the beautiful girl as he drove, golden hair covering tanned shoulders and her perky breasts bouncing with each bump in the road. Best he could tell, she wore no bra beneath her skimpy shirt. She clutched her arms in her lap and it almost seemed like she was inspecting the inside of a UFO.
“Sorry about the interior,” Connor said, referencing the rough condition of the upholstery and the droopy ceiling. “It’s not my truck. A friend loaned it to me.”
“Oh, no, it’s great,” Olivia managed to say. “I’ve just never been inside one before.” Olivia caught herself, “…quite like this one, I mean.” She shot a look at the handsome figure who was smiling at her. Did he pick up on her slip?
Connor was unsure how to respond, so he simply said, “I’m Connor, by the way.”
“Hi, I’m Olivia.”
The pair lost themselves in conversation, and both quickly grew comfortable in the guarded answers they provided. Olivia shared that she was sixteen years old and that she lived on farm, though she failed to share the radical nature of their community. Connor shared that he was seventeen and that he was homeschooled, which was technically the truth. Soon they began talking about oppressive parents and how their respective lives would be better if they could just do what whatever they wanted. Both agreed emphatically, and both had difficulties keeping their eyes off of the other. Twice Connor had to swerve back onto the road after inspecting Olivia’s feminine places for too long. But this being Olivia’s first time in a vehicle, save for a horse and buggy, she never noticed. And even if she had, she was lost in his presence and probably wouldn’t have cared. Each time he looked back at the road, she used the opportunity to drink in another detail of his flawless body.
They soon reached their destination, a humble cabin at the end of a gravel road. It overlooked a small but beautiful lake and, though other houses dotted the bank, no immediate neighbors were within eye sight through the surrounding woods.
“C’mon,” Connor told her as he put the truck in park. “Help me find the key under one of those flower pots.”
The key was quickly located and the pair entered the cabin. For every bit as plain as the cabin looked on the outside, the inside was that much more immaculate. Polished hardwood floors ran the length of the first level and surrounded an island fireplace in the main room. Beautiful and dark furniture was organized around the room and multiple windows shone light into all corners. The only sound battling the cicadas and birds outside was the low hum of the air conditioner.
“This place is beautiful,” Olivia said mostly to herself. She was following Connor, staring at various novelties throughout the house, when she missed the single step from the entryway to the main room. She tumbled forward, letting out a frightful shriek, and landed in Connor’s firm arms just before crashing into the floor. She looked up at his beautiful face and butterflies spread from her stomach throughout her body. Connor lifted her to his face and kissed her lips. The kiss, her first ever, began gently. The soft texture of his lips was occasionally joined with the slight scrape of his stubble. She hooked an arm around his neck and urged the kiss onward. Connor’s tongue parted her mouth and slowly brushed against hers, something she neither expected nor wanted to stop. She joined his tongue’s dance and lost herself in the kiss.
Connor broke their embrace by lifting her off the floor, her hair draping over one arm, her calves and feet draping over the other. After a few steps, and never breaking eye contact, he deposited her on a dark leather couch. He leaned to her again and found her breast with his right hand. His mouth broke free and roamed to her cheek and then her neck. Olivia arched her back and sighed at the pleasure that he sent coursing through her body. As if her hands were guided by someone else, Olivia removed Connor’s shirt and tossed it on the floor. Connor leaned back on his knees, below her on the couch, and she took in his immaculate body. The broad shoulders that had been apparent beneath his shirt rippled down to a toned chest and muscular arms. Her eyes sank lower, following erotic groves in his flesh that disappeared into fitted jeans. She had to touch him, and rose to him. He met her halfway, their tongues dancing again, and he removed her shirt, tossing it near his on the floor. His hands explored her smooth skin and delicate breasts, eliciting whimpers from her mouth, into his.
Connor again broke their embrace and found the confluence of her neck and shoulder with his tongue. He kissed a path down to her breast and began to lick circles around her nipple. He had seen many women topless, but these were by far the most perfect breasts he had laid eyes upon, let alone squeezed and kissed. From a need deep within her, Olivia unbuttoned and removed her cutoffs, revealing no panties and her smoothly shaved center. Connor paused briefly before standing from the couch and removing his jeans. Beneath them he wore snug white boxer briefs that did their best to contain his pulsing bulge. She stared hungrily at it, and dropped to her knees on the floor. She hooked her fingers below the waistband of his shorts and kissed along his ‘V’ while tugging the cloth to the ground. She felt his firmness slide free of the elastic and it gently smacked her jaw as she followed the ‘V’ down further. She pushed away and took in the sight, finding it hard to breath. Slowly she grabbed his erection with both hands, fingertips exploring the ridges around his head. It was so smooth, yet so hard and warm. She began to slowly slide the soft skin back and forth, and he leaned his head to the ceiling and let out a low moan.
Before she could explore any further, Connor lifted her from the floor by her underarms and guided her back to the couch. He eased on top of her and she instinctively grabbed him and guided him to her wet opening.
Connor paused and bashfully said, “This – this is my first time. Everybody thinks I do this a lot, but I never have.”
Olivia responded that this was her first time as well. “Go easy,” she urged.
In response, he leaned forward and kissed her lips, then slowly entered her. Expecting a sharp pain, she winced and gripped his shoulder tightly. He was all the way inside of her and pulling back out when she realized that the worst was over and the fabled pain was no truer than the hitchhiking horror stories. Instead, with each thrust, a warm pleasure began to wash over her body and she lost herself to his rhythm, the taste of his skin and the smell of his sweat. Faster and faster he moved, finding places in her that were deeper and more sensitive than she could ever have imagined. He would push himself in deeply and pause, rocking his hips, pressing her clit between their bodies. Her pleasure grew exponentially with each movement.
All of sudden he removed himself from her and began stroking his cock, sending strings of white over her stomach and breasts. He groaned and stared intensely at her. Olivia was both shocked and aroused by his orgasm, and found herself rubbing violently on her clit. Her pleasure built further as she felt each drop land on her skin, and she finally felt a release that shot through her entire body and caused her to scream at the top of her lungs. She clenched her eyes shut and continued rubbing, raising her hips in the air, until it became too sensitive to continue.
Connor moved beside her on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, catching his breath.
“That was amazing,” he whispered.
Olivia nuzzled her face against his firm chest, her eyes still closed as the last remnants of orgasm ricocheted through her body. She draped a leg over his waist and traced the lines of his abdominal muscles.
“It sure was,” she cooed. “Can we do it again?”
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