Her mind raced with the implications of what was happening beneath the silk sheet. The director’s voice cut through the air, the words echoing in her ears like a siren’s call. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, the pleasure a treacherous siren’s call that threatened to drown her in a sea of guilt. The cameras kept rolling, capturing every twitch and tremor as she succumbed to the pleasure, the silk sheet the only shield from the crew’s eyes. Give it to her!” Alia’s heart raced as she felt her co-star’s cock swell within her, his own climax approaching. The changing room door creaked open, and she tensed, expecting the director or a crew member, but instead, it was her costar. Remember, keep it real, but no actual contact.” The words snapped through the air, a stark reminder of the professionalism that underpinned their performance.
