Diving In by Bianca Giovanni Page B

that.”
    I laugh and continue to blush before
retorting, “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take advice from a
guy whose relationships with women begin with ‘action’ and end with
someone yelling ‘cut’!”
    “Cold as ice tonight!” He laughs, grabbing
his heart.
    I shoot him a smirk and then impersonate the
girls in his videos. “Yes, Master Langdon,” I mock, “I’ll be a good
girl. Don’t give me a spanking.” I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I
swear, how these girls can let you boss them around like that!”
    James has done videos that fall under every
category and appeal to almost every fetish, but his most recent
genre is BDSM porn. His scenes usually involve a buxom woman tied
up or hand cuffed or bound in some other fashion while he goes to
town on her with a riding crop or a flogger or whatever instrument
is the tool of the day. There’s a lot of “yes, Sir” and “please,
Master,” and I’ve never really seen the appeal.
    “I guess I just don’t see the point of
spankings and all that,” I shrug. We’ve had this debate since he
first got into this particular genre, but he’s never managed to
sway me on the whole Dominant/submissive thing.
    “It’s acting,” he chuckles at my eye rolling
and mocking.
    “Is it?” I laugh. “Because you don’t see
Meryl Streep doing movies that involve ball gags and nipple
clamps.”
    I can see him trying to resist it, but he
laughs hard at that comment. I’ve spent over a decade sassing James
about his extraordinarily active sex life and, now that he’s doing
porn, I have so much more material.
    “Hey, some girls dig it,” he shrugs. “They
like giving up all control and being totally at my mercy.”
    “Yeesh! Not me,” I shake my head.
    “Ok, like you have room to talk!” He teases.
“You’ve never had sex at all, so how would you know what you’re
into?”
    Immediately, I blush. It’s true, I’m a
virgin. Pretty funny considering my best friend is a porn star,
right? People can’t wrap their heads around the fact that I made it
through my horny teenage years without falling pretty to my
Casanova best bud. In truth, James was always very cautious when it
came to me and he never made an attempt to seduce me. Now he likes
to pull the purity card on me every time I tease him. I can joke
about his sex life a million times a day, but when he turns the
tables around, I go all pink cheeks and giggles, and he loves
it.
    “Shut up!” I say, trying to sound stern
despite the fact that I’m giggling like a Japanese schoolgirl.
    “Ah, there’s that blush,” he chuckles,
tipping his wine glass to me. “Not so tough anymore, huh?”
    “This is about you and all the fake-titted
girls you screw on film,” I protest, still laughing uncontrollably,
“not about me and who might or might not be between my legs.”
    “I certainly hope no one’s between your
legs!” He says with surprise. “Otherwise I’d have to kick
somebody’s ass.”
    James is always protecting my virtue like
some kind of knight. He’s done this all my life and I’m sure he’s a
big reason why guys were too intimidated to ask me out in high
school. Who wants to date a girl with a big, hulking badass just
waiting to beat the crap out of you if you hurt her?
    He yawns and stretches in his chair, his
t-shirt lifting up just enough to reveal a glimpse of his toned,
tanned stomach. The sight of his six-pack is so commonplace that
it’s almost boring to me at this point. I’ve lost track of how many
times I’ve seen him naked, so his bare skin is like wallpaper,
always visible, but not all that noticeable until you focus your
attention on it.
    “Sleepy? Must have been a very rigorous
scene,” I say with a smirk.
    He chuckles and gives me his patented
devilish grin. “Two girls can wear you out, dude, you don’t even
know. We had to stop for stills, like, a zillion times and they
fucked up an entire section of close ups so we had to do those
over. Plus, I had to