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foxx.com (Dr. Nibbles x razerwing)

Dr. Nibbles

Dr. Nibbles

Supernova
Joined
Oct 20, 2011
Location
Your Pants
The cum from the rhino's massive cock poured into legendary porn star Amber Foxxx as she gripped his shoulders at the unsuspected burst of seed. Her eyes widened and she cursed at the idiot rhino out of reflex.

"CUT! You dumb fuck, its a cumshot finish!" shouted the director. "Get a fluffer for Dylan and someone clean up Amber."

A bell rang and the crew started reseting cameras and lighting fixtures for the next take. An intern quickly walked up to the fiery vixen and began cleaning the seed that was mistakenly sprayed inside her as a make-up artist tried to touch up her smeared eyeliner the best she could.

"God dammnit this is the third time today that Dylan has finished early." groaned Amber "This guy is never going to make it if he has no stamina."

"Yes, I agree, miss Foxxx." said the intern, blushing uncontrollably as he dug deep inside her

"Jesus, kid, buy me a drink first" she barked somewhat jokingly

"s-sorry miss Foxxx." he stammered

Amber let the two finish before grabbing a bottle of water trying to cool of just enough to delay her orgasm. Not that she couldn't contain it. She looked over and saw the p.o.'ed director chewing out an increadibly handsome Reynard. She made breif eyecontact with him and smiled genuinely. Though the moment was crusshed by the angered growls of a far too serious director.
 
The fox looked at his feet as the director blasted him with insults, getting closer and closer to the young male. "You little fuck, even if that rhino had done it right, the camera was supposed to be closer! This is a porno, not a freaking A-list hollywood bullshit film!" The fox nodded, wrapping his bushy tail around his leg. How was he supposed to know? He hadn't started not that long ago, and he'd been hired dirt cheap too. The closer the angry director got, the louder he seemed. The louder he was, the more it hurt the Reynard's ears. If it wasn't for the fact he needed this job, and that he was constantly blushing or on the verge of nervous breakdown from being around so many sultry, alluring women, he'd have at least spoke up. Instead, he flattened himself against the wall, backed into a corner. The hat he wore shaded bright green eyes, ones that, when he looked up to see if anyone would get the pitbull off his back, were caught by Foxxx's. It was brief, but enough to make his legs go rubbery. He trembled, and the director must've thought it was because of the words, because they got worse.

Trystan wanted to say something, he really did, but he couldn't. What could he do against the monstrosity in front of him? Bastard looked like he was on steroids. Still though, his heart was racing. That look from the main star, it sent his adrenaline through the roof. Soon enough, the ranting and raving stopped, giving the fox ample time to scurry back to his post. Before pressing his eye to the viewfinder, he wiped off the gallon of spit from his face. "Man.... pitbulls must be trained to leak like that," he mumbled to himself, glancing over his shoulder incase the dog heard. The fox cast another quick glance over towards Foxxx's direction, and returned his attention to the camera, making a few adjustments, and signalling a thumbs up to a few other camera animals. He was going to get it right this time.
 
"Hey," spoke an angel voiced vixen Trystan was all to familiar with. "Don't let the pit get to you doll."

He turned around to see the, completely naked (excluding her many studs and piercings that adourned her god-gifted body) Amber V. Foxxx She stood with on hand on her hip, her long eyelashes batting. A few strands of her orange hair covered her right eye, giving her a very appealing look. Fully clothed she was just acting like a normal girl, but the fact that she was completely nude and acting as if it were nothing made it very difficult to pay attention.

"If it makes you feel any better, kit," she began "He may be buff and badass but he's behind the camera for a reason."

Amber made a gesture with her fore finger and thumb, displaying a very, sad length for the body part she was suggesting. She smiled and walked gracefully past the new cameraman, a strawberry scented perfume trailing from her tail as it brushed past his arm oh so graceflly.
 
The fox shivered delightfully. Oh man oh man! Amber Foxx was talking to him, a cameraman. He wondered vaguely whether or not to say something, some pick up line, but decided a simple smile would be the best, although it came out more enamored than he'd have liked. "You know," he grinned widely, managing to keep his eyes on hers. "For some reason, I always had a feeling." He blinked, suddenly wondering if she thought all people behind the camera were like that. He blushed deeply, jumping when a call from Camera 6 on the other side of the room came over.

"Trystan, Amber, we're getting ready to start!" As the vixen left, her tail brushed against his arm. Whether it was on accident, or intended, it didn't matter to him. Another shiver ran laps on his spine, blood rushing to his face, and other parts of the body. As he took his position behind his camera, he felt eyes boring into the back of his skull. He turned, and almost broke out into a laughing fit. Someone seemed a little more than jealous. All he did, probably making it worse for him, was offer an innocent smile, a shrug, and a tilt of the head before turning around. If he didn't like his job before, he most definitely loved it now.

The pit couldn't do anything. He was already behind schedule thanks to Dylan's inability to hold on long enough to pull out. Maybe this time he'd get it right. Damn that rhino. The lights outside of the set faded out, leaving Trystan with only his camera light. The fox held up his left paw, counting down the seconds on his fingers.
5....
4....
3....
2...........
 
Amber stuck out her tongue and recieved every thick, stream of cum that shot from the monsterous tip of Dylan. Amber closed her eyes and winced as he missed repeatedly, hitting her eye lids, cheeks, and breasts before finally sliding it into her willing mouth. She sucked the rest of the cum from his tip, giggling like the little school girl the script said she was supposed to be. She smiled at the camera and did the customary post-orgasm sucking and licking for a brief moment before the pit shouted "cut!"

"Alright! Finally, that's a wrap!" he applauded almost condesendingly "Alright bozos pack it up, they need the set for some indie film at 5 so we've got lest then 45 to clear out. Move it people!"

The crew quickly scrambled to get their equipment packaged away and the intern gave both Dylan and Amber a towel and spa robe. Amber's was dark red silk with her last name stitched in gold along her breasts, of which the robe barely covered.

"Damn Dylan," growled the vixen licking the towel in attempt to clear her mouth of the taste "You knew this shoot was coming up for 2 weeks, you couldn't have added a little more fruit to your diet?"

"Sorry babe," he grunted, "I've just got this part coming up and it requires me to be as fit as I can so I've cut any excess carbs."

"What gay porn is it this time? Sacks in the City?" she jested.

"Nope, I'm going legit this time," he smiled wiping sweat from his leather face "I'm being cast as a henchmen in this spy movie, not alot of lines but the pay is good and I get some killer face time."

"That's great Dylan, I'm happy for you." Amber tried to hide her disappointment, she had been trying to go legit for months now but nothing was picking up. But of course, every xxx producer wanted Amber Foxxx to be on their box art. She was tired of this, she had too much talent to suppress like this.

She went into the bathroom to wash up her face a bit, taking most of her makeup of, though she really didn't need it honestly. She got dressed in her basic street clothes and made a few quick tweets about a party that she was going to tonight, maybe she could drink her troubles away. But she couldn't go alone and she only had a few hours to find someone. She's not going to as Johnny "the Pit" Barlone again. That sick bastard was practically humping her leg all night, and to a degree she wished she could say that was figurative. Dylan was a dunce and all over her other lady-friends were busy as well or had dates. But then that awkwardly cute reynard caught her eye, she smiled inwardly, pushed up her bussom and walked gracefully over to him. Her daisy duke shorts hugging her groin, rear and thighs like selephane and her top was practically see through and the presence of her nipple rings made it look like they were constantly hard.

"Hey," she said sweetly to the camera boy, leaning against a light fixture to showcase her curves. "You doin anything later tonight?"
 
The fox sighed in disappointment. Good thing the pit didn't notice it. Directors hired cameramen for a reason. They knew what to look for. Camera 5, the one doing the overhead shot for the last scene, had had a lens flare. That could go one of two ways, either editing would play it up, or they would cut that out. "Jason! Camera 5 now. We need to get that lens fixed before we can pack it up!" Trystan may have been new at the job, but he had experience in film tech. He had his Bachelors in T.V. production. Barlone looked a little pissed, but his job was done. The fox's nimble little hands disassembled his camera, putting it hurriedly in the case. Well... atleast the intern knew what he was doing.

One of the other, more experienced cameraguys came over, looking over the equipment. He had not yet noticed Amber. "Oiyu, you did good tonight kit. Don't let that jackass get too far down your throat." Trystan raised an eyebrow. "Not like he could get very far with that fat ass of his." Both of them laughed, the German Shepherd patting the smaller fox on the shoulder. "You aren't too bad kit, you really aren't." He tipped his hat, and the Shepherd left. Trystan picked up the case, seemingly at ease with the heavy, unwieldly thing. It was almost comical. The case made the fox look smaller than his height of 5' 11".

"Hey," came the sultry voice, etched into his brain. "You doin' anything tonight?" He blinked, stunned. Quickly, spinning on his toes and blushing immensely, he was greeted by the sight of an Amber dressed in tantalizingly tight fitting clothes. Once again, he felt his blood rushing up to his head, and down, farther than it should. Trystan winced, managing to, just barely, keep a handle on things. And then, he saw the rest of her body, and he couldn't stop his jaw from dropping slightly. "Uh....." With a visible effort, he tore his gaze from her thighs, and looked at her face. It didn't help much. Unable to talk, he shook his head, saying that he wasn't.
 
"Good I didn't think so." she smiled, caressing his shoulder. "I've got a party going on in West Hollywood at 7. A friend from some of the male sections of the industry is throwing it, all sorts of people will be there and its going to likely be wild. Would you like to come with me? You seem like you'd look like you'd fit."

She smiled so gracefully at him, and it was a genuine smile. She really was somewhat fond of the fox. He was attractive, fit, but a bit too awkward for her taste but thats nothing a few times infront of the camera won't fix.
 
He finally found his voicebox, and, looking around nervously, answered. "West Hollywood, huh? Is uhm.... this isn't going to be a black-tie turned college co-ed party is it?" He blushed, but kept his eyes on hers. "I'd much rather have a college party." He flashed her a nervous smile. Hey, at least he was trying.

"So.... uh... Ms.Foxxx..... Why are you asking me? I'm not all that important. I'm not a pornstar. Why not ask Jowls?" He motioned to the pit, ears flicking slightly this way and that. "I mean, not that I'm not greatful, but...... I'm not exactly the best guy for one night stands. And I think Pits would have an annuyerism if anything happened." He shrugged, still nervous. Curiosity helped, although there would be no gaurantees he would be as calm as he was acting now.
 
Amber smirked and laughed at herself a-bit at his comments. She looked around the room in thought then turned back to him.

"If you don't want to go just say so, a dozen other men are waiting to be my arm candy." she smirked walking seductively around Trystan in a circle, her tail brushing beneath his chin. "Besides who said anything about one night stands? Trying to get in my pants already huh? Typical men you think just cause I drink cum for a living I'm going to take my pants off for you because you said please?"

Her tone was more teasing than angered. She knew how nervous the poor boy was, but she was having too much fun playing with his, no doubt horny, mind.
 
Trystan closed his eyes, shivering, inhaling the scent coming off her. When his eyes opened again, it was with the glint of a challenge. She had basically offered up a battle of sorts. With a shrug, he turned to face her, eyebrow cocked. Of course, he still felt nervous, but he couldn't show it now. "So, if you have dozens of men waiting, why are you asking me? A lil' biased towards your own species maybe?" He looked upwards, shuddering.

"And, I did not want your pants off. Just because I film porno's doesn't mean I agree with mindless, emotionless sex. Besides, aren't you the one who 'implied,' he smiled as his paws made air quotes, "That all us people behind the camera are like Pudgy over there." He blinked, a little amazed at himself. Is he really joking with what could possibly be the sexiest person he'd ever seen in his life. To cover for his sudden distrust for what he'd just done, he scratched idly under the hat. Man..... maybe it's not lost yet. Still have to keep the act up. "So, lame jokes aside, Ms.Foxxx, I would love to go to this party with you. Hell... I might even try a few drinks if they're good enough." As a last attempt to 'save' this, he nodded over at the director, who'd finished packing and was heading out. "Just ah... just warn me if we end up seeing him there. Might have to duck under the table." As he turned to walk away, he mentally kicked himself, face-palming as the scene played through his skull. 'Damnit Trystan! Damnit Damnit DAMNIT! You just blew a chance at West Hollywood, at AMBER V. FUCKING FOX!' He sighed, forceing the voice quiet. When he looked up, he saw the last cameraman packing up. The bird gave him a thumbs up, obviously taking his mind in the gutter. Now all Trystan could do was hope he didn't come off like a pompass ass who's full of himself. He had no clue! Entering the world of porn, still wet behind the ears! Ugh, what would the vixen think?
 
"Ex-CUSE me?!?" Amber said, making a "model stomp" over to Trystan "Who the FUCK do you think you are? I might have talked to you earlier but you are no where CLOSE to being anything more than an accessory at that party so don't act like you're some high and mighty porn King Pin. I'm Amber V. Foxxx, honey, you don't turn me down...ever."

She pulled out a ball point pen from seemingly nowhere, wrote her address on his hand.

"So you're going to pick me up in 2 hours at this address. You're going to look your fliest and I'm going to be hotter than the sun, we're gonna go and get drunk and then you'll take me home. If you're a good puppy, maybe I'll let you touch my tit. See you then kit."

She turned on her heel and slapped his face with her scented tail, only glancing over her shoulder briefly before exiting the studio.
 
Trystan jumped at the sound of her voice, mentally berrating himself for the loss when she turned him around and wrote her address on the back of his hand. His head was spinning as she barked out her orders, then turned, slapping him in the face with her tail. All he could do was stare dumbfounded after her. 'Wha...... what just happened?' he asked himself, blinking a few times, shaking her scent out of his head so he could think straight. First she yelled at him, then told him he was going to the party with her, then simply turned and left. He sighed, telling himself to stop thinking about it, that it'd only give him a headache. His hat came off, allowing him to scratch right behind his ear. 'The key to happiness is a bad memory." With another exasperrated sigh, he hopped onto his Triumph Speed Triple, pulled the kickstand up, revved the engine a few times, then took off down the street, leaving his thoughts, nervousness, and emotions behind. He'd been saving up for one of these, and was surprised at how much they'd actually cost. He pulled his hat down, bracing himself against the wind as he leaned, turning the beast onto his street. Well.... his mother's street. Since he never thought he'd ever need a tux, he never kept one. At his house anyway. He nodded to his parents as he dashed up the stairs, quickly changed into the monkey suit, Grabbed his riding gear, and an extra helmet, and rushed back outside. By the time he got to his bike, he'd already put the padded jacket on, and his helmet. Just to make sure though, he took a studiously long look at the back of his hand, memorizing the address before slipping on the riding gloves. The way he looked now, all padded, with the tinted helmet visor, he looked almost as badass as Jowls. But the fox wasn't in it for the looks. With everything checked, locked, and ready, he blasted down the street. Boy, he'd be damned if any of her 'acsessories' showed up on a Triumph! But he had time to kill. What to do?
 
Amber hopped out of her 69 Beetle, walking as fast as she can to escape the eye sight of any of the men/paparazzi who knew where she lived. Amber's humble abode was in the bottom floor of a Los Angelos duplex. It was on the nicer end of the South side, closer to downtown. She was close enough to hollywood for the drive to be convienient without being so close as to worry about the sicko rapist fans trying to break in. Even so, she was no princess, she slept with a loaded 9mm Glock under her pillow. All she had to do was turn off the safety and blow the fucker away.

She hurriedly unlocked the door and opened it before hearing the distinct sound of a camera shutter from outside the complex. She turned and saw a badger quickly trying to make it to the exit.

"Get the hell out of here you creep!" she yelled, picking up a chuck of broken concrete, throwing it, and missing. She quickly walked insides and began stripping as she entered her bathroom. Her house, on the inside, was quite nice and elegant. Marble floors deep brown leathre couches. Candelabras. She lived, as Tyler Durden would say, the Ikea lifestyle. Why not though? She was wealthy. Whoever said porn wasn't worth it hadn't seen how many zeroes are on a porn veteran pay check.

She turned on her bathtub's golden faucet and threw a half dozen lavender scented oil beads. She needed to soak certain sensitive areas of her body after a day long shoot like that. It wasn't like the Spring Break Sluts 2007 shoot but she was still sore. She pulled down her thin g-string thong and crawled into her bath sighing in relief. After a few seconds she began massaging her slit, an exercise she'd learned from her mentor to reduce stretching.

She felt like a total bitch for chewing out Trystan like she did, but after all he needed to know his place. He was a peon an she was the celebrity. She doesnt mind being a diva when she needs to show her dominance. Though she does kind of regret not being a feral canine. They show their dominance through far more vigorous activities. She wouldn't mind having to show her physical dominance to Tyrstan, he was clever and cute... and...

Amber opened her eyes and realized that her simple massaging of her woman hood had turned into full on fingering. She stuck her tongue out, panting, and continued, naughty thoughts filling her brain in a roaring torrent. Tonight might end a bit differently than she'd expected...and better than Trystan had hoped.
 
The fox grinned widely, flicking his ears at a Greayhound riding around on a Harley. This was how he escaped. He took pride in the bike he'd managed to keep for as long as he did, and as he slid up the visor, it was obvious. "Oi, Greyhound!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, just barely being heard over the roar of the other's engine. What made it worse was that the canine was ignoring him. With a competitive growl, he slid the visor back down, deciding to make his challenge obvious. He opened the throttle, engine roaring monstrously, forcing the Greyhound to meet his gaze, revving his own engine. 'Heh, must think this is a fake crotch-rocket.' He shook his head, leaning forward in anticipation. The second the light turned green, Trystan set the road ablaze. The Chopper had barely made it halfway down, and by the time it got to the end of the road, the Triumph was gone.

Then the address came into mind. He'd go find out where she lived. After all, having been yelled at twice in two days..... although he kind of liked it from the Legend herself. He sighed, ears flicking and finally flattening against the helmet. He leaned into the wind, shifting gears and heading towards the memorized address.

The roads took him downnto the South side of L.A. The nicer part. It was rather clean for where it was, but he had to double check the back of his hand. By now, after having roared down the street, his helmet and gloves were off. "A duplex?" The fox was confused. He knew how much money could be made doing that. The reason he was a cameraman was because he simply couldn't view himself as being as famous as Amber. He shrugged, looking around for a doorbell or a ringer when he noticed the Beetle. "Aw.... no.... A beetle?" He facepalmed, then knocked on the door, checking his hand again to make sure this was the right place.
 
((Don't be hatin' mah beetle ;D))

A few moments passed before the door opened. It could have been the fact that light from behind her was forming an aurora around her perfect frame but when the vixen stepped out, time itself seemed to freeze. Her long eyelashes batted over emerald green eyes, her body was wrapped in a black razorback dress that cut off just before the bum. Her tail had a bell banded to it by a leather strap and her smooth, bronze legs were finished off by a pair of strappy, 6" black stilettos In her films, she was bodacious, hot and sexy. But right now, at this very moment, she was gorgeous.

"Hey," she said simply but still elegantly "Wow, a tux, who's funeral you going to?" she joked, closing the door and walking past him smiling a bit. She acted unimpressed but honestly she was. Her last date considered a polo and jeans "dressy". It made her feel like she was worth more than just a cheap fuck..

"So where's your car?" she said smiling back at him from the corner of her mouth, placing her left hand on her every so prominent hip.
 
Trystan was awestruck as always, but this time managed to keep his jaw shut. And once again, just managed to keep himself from filling out his dress pants. And then, of course with the teasing, he looked down in embarrasment. As she walked past him, he could smell lavender, his ears scooping up the tiny jingles of the bell. Man was he glad he had thought to get one of these.

When she asked where his car was, he blinked, suddenly getting nervous. Very nervous. "Uhm.... I don't have a car. Never liked how big they were." Here it was, the moment of truth. He pointed towards the bike, it's cobalt blue paintjob sparkling as the headlights of passing cars hit the metallic paint. "H-have you ever ridden a motorcycle, Ms. Foxxx?" He tilted his head, shuddering at the sudden image of her arms around his waist, sitting on the back seat as they sped down the road.... He shook the thoughts away. Couldn't get too comfortable now. He made his way past her to pat the bike gently. "It'll be a new experience for you, much better than a lot of other bikes." He looked up at her.
 
Amber could not contain her laughter. She looked at Trystan and gave him a genuinely huge smile.

"Have I? Ever ridden a bike?" she smirked "Are you asking if I've ever driven a bike or have I ever rode bitch?"

She walked around the bike, tracing her elegant finger along the seat, trying not to leave marks or any smudges.

"This is a Triumph Speed Triple...2010? No, '09. Right?" she admired the bike like it was a fine woman. She smiled keenly at the kit. "My father owned three. He only bought a car when I was born. I loved working on his collection when I was a little girl. I'm full of more surprises than you'd know, kit."

"So to answer your question," she continued "I've never ridden bitch, but I'm definitely the girl to try new things... so are we going to do this or what?"
 
Trystan couldn't hold in his surprise. He started chuckling, relieved. He relaxed, loosened up, handing her the second helmet. "Actually Ms.Foxxx, it's a '99. Britain's Bad Boy bike, the much better version of the Harley Davidson." He grinned widely, taking out a second pair of gloves and a Kevlar jacket. "And since you've ridden one by yourself, I bet you know how cold it gets when you hit 120." He threw his leg over the seat, kicking out the back pegs, giving Amber a place to put her paws. After slipping on his helmet, he held out his hand to help her over the slightly higher back seat.

"Now, even though you've had your experience, this is important. If you don't lean with me on the turns, the back tire will wiggle out, slide, and we'll smash into something. And since there aren't any seatbelts..." He trailed the sentence off. The fox was clearly in his element. He turned on the bike, revelling in the sound of power. Then, suddenly he remembered something. Trystan slid his visor up, grinning. "Oh, and in the case you need to talk, there's a radio system wired into the helmet. Just talk and I should be able to hear you." He shrugged, flicking his ears. Next time he spoke, his voice was in her helmet, clear as a bell. "Figured you'd like to know, since I ride like everyone's trying to kill me. Just gimme a thumbs up when you're ready. And uh.... keep your visor closed." He smiled, closing his visor, hiding his face.
 
As Trystan spoke, she prepared without listening. As soon as she suited up she, dropped the visor and held his hand like a lady, swinging her leg up unlike one. He dress pulled pleasingly up, revealing the very undershot of her rear. She then wrapped her arms around his abdomen and smiled, feeling at home, having something other than a muscular man between her legs.

"Yea, yea, yea proffessor, just punch the throttle and let show me if you can handle this bike. You know they say a man handles his bike like he handles his woman." she teased resting her chin on his shoulder and eagerly waiting.
 
The fox had to laugh at that, punching the throttle just a little too much too soon. The front wheel came up a few inches from the ground in a small wheelie before making contact with the pavement and taking off like a bullet. They breezed down the roads, and every now and then, Trystan would look behind him. Just to show off a little, he put his hands in the air, using his legs to turn onto a sidestreet. This road was a little less smooth, forcing the fox's paws back onto the handlebars to keep them upright.

The engine started winding, but a nudge of the knee switched gears up, and they took off again. With another turn, they were back on the main roads, weaving through traffic, squeezing between cars in that way only a motorcycle could manage. "Enjoying the ride Ms.Foxxx?" He chuckled, letting off the gas. "Hey, I think we're here. This is the place right?" In front of them loomed West Hollywood. "I don't think you ever gave me the address."
 
Amber laughed as they lifted briefly off the ground and sped off into the distance. She tried her best to act unimpressed, but she couldn't help but giggle when he tried showing off. He was cute and a tad bit awkward. He felt like he had to earn her respect, something guys usually don't do with her. They often just asume she's a slut and don't have to act gentlemanly, or kind. This boy could be going places, she thought to herself as they turned down a bumpy road.

Amber panicked a bit and let out the most adorable yip as she did so. She tightened her grip on Trystan's chest, her breasts pushing up against the two foxes as she did so. As they approached the turn into West Hollywood she saw the street of their destination.

"Yes actually," she smiled. "Its just up that road, third house on the left. Wow, a good taste of vehicles and preturnatural sense of direction. Keep this up and I might actually introduce you to my friends." she joked.
 
Trystan chuckled, going slowly down the street, the bike tumbling and growling under them like a caged beast. He hadn't missed her giggles, or the yelp when he turned with no hands onto the side road. "We aren't finished with our ride yet, Ms. Foxxx. I still have one more trick up my sleeve." He punched it, sending the wheel high off the ground, like a rearing horse, and throwing his whole body into it, turned on the fat back wheel, slamming the front into the asphalt. The result, a neatly parked monster. He killed the engine, taking off his helmet to reveal a smile reaching from ear to ear. Of course, he had a case of helmet head, the fur sticking wildly up here and there, adding to his cuteness. Instinctively, he ran his fingers through it, returning it to laying flat on his head, although still slightly ruffled. He put the kickstand down, hopped off, and once again prooffered a hand to help his lovely lady friend off the motorcycle. After her feet were on the ground, he pulled a key from the inner pocket of his tux, and inserting it into a hidden keyhole on the side of the seat, lifted the cover off. Trystan slid out of his padded jacket, took off his riding gloves, and put them into the space, with enough room for the second set. The helmet rested on the handlebar.

"Heheh, this is a nice place. Who did you say was throwing the party again?" He looked the house over, trying to figure out what he would see when he walked in. He'd never been to a pornstar party offset. He looked back, and finding everything squared away, locked the seat back into place and slid the key into his pocket. "Shall we?"
 
She screamed out of joy as the bike swung around and plopped into its final destination. Her adrenaline was pumping now. She hadn't had a good ride like that since her dad was alive. A sudden sadness hit her heart and caused her to hesitate pulling off the helm. She shook it off and pulled her helmet off and gave the jacket to Trystan daintily getting off the bike, smiling at him kindly batting eyelashes as she did.

"Its a gay friend of my. He's...also...a porn star." she smiled with a mild blush "I hope you don't mind, guess I should have asked. Though there should be dozens of sexy ladies there who aren't expecting to get picked up on."

Amber smiled and winked at him with her gorgeous green eyes.

"Shall we?" Trystan asked.

"We shall." she replied, locking her elbow with his and walked up the steep walk-way to the entry way.

Several papparazzi snapped pictures at them and other adult stars as they climbed the walk-way. It was elegant stone, with a very Zen feeling to its garden. All this lead up to a very Modern looking home. When they arrived they were immediately greeted by a male stripper in just a speedo and bow tie to offer them glasses of champagne. The music boomed from inside, the lights were dim and lazers and stobes filled a living room that hand been cleared as a dance floor and re-filled with provacatively dressed women and extremely flamboyant men. A few straight guys could be spotted in the crowd, either hitting on a girl or hanging out with other straight men out of sheer fear of the ratio.

"Amber V. Foxxx, you slut!" said a particularly falceto pitched male voice from upstairs.

Amber snapped her head at the voice and smiled.

"Andrew Peterstrong, you bitch!" she laughed, obviously at an inside joke between the two friends. The slyly dress human slid down the spiral bannaster and grabbed a drink from a passing male stripper as he did so, quickly drinking it and spiking it, thought it was plastic and merely bounced.

"How have you been girl!" he said hugging her hard "Why don't we see each other anymore!?!"

"Work Andrew, you know that as well as I do." She smiled at him hugging him back.

"You look gorgeous tonight, hun," he said admiring her figure, seemingly too much for someone who is supposedly gay, but then again Amber has that effect on people "And who's your handsome friend."

"This is Trystan...." introduced Amber, not knowing his last name. ".....yea, Trystan, he's the lead cameraman for our film we're working on. He's gonna go places." she then turned her attention to Trystan "Trystan this is Andrew, he's the host and my longtime friend and mentor."
 
Trystan smiled widely, but faltered up on the walkway. "A gay pornstar?" He looked up at her, a little bit of fear in his eyes. But there was something else. Curiosity. The fox regained composure, standing as tall as his canine frame would allow. Although, he had to admit, he was a little shocked at the stripper serving champagne. The smell from the cups captured his attention, and he took a glass. The interior was even more astounding. Music booming, people dancing, ladies of all attractive shapes and sizes. He tugged lightly on his collar, feeling nervousness creep up on him. These were stars, or friends of stars. He was a cameraman. What was he doing here? In an effort to relax himself, he took a sip of the champagne, feeling the crisp smoothness slide down his throat.

He jumped at the falcetto voice, the pitch sounding strange against the music. When the fox followed the Vixen's gaze, he found a human. A human male. As they exchanged what he figured was an inside joke, talking to each other, he looked around the scene. Straight guys grouped together, or danced with the ladies, but he looked into their eyes. Fear. They were probably homophobes, and only came here for the women. He sighed, snapping his attention back on Amber and Andrew when his name was called.

"Pleasure to meet you Andrew," he started, holding out his hand. The man didn't seem that bad, although the handsome comment made him look down modestly. "Any friend of Ms. Foxxx is a friend of mine." He smiled, looking around the house again. "This is quite the place you have here." His ears flicked, finally resting, each facing their respective directions. The movement had caused his hair to fluff up a little bit, and he took another sip of the chapagne. The fox was starting to relax now, getting accustomed to the dancing speedo clad men, and even the few appreciative glances he got.
 
Amber and Andrew talked for some time, just long enough to get seperated from Trystan. She apparently said something about going to meet someone out back but apparently Trystan hadn't heard over the noise of the music. However someone did notice, a particularlly attractive, albino, unicorn with a punk-rock get-up. She grazed across the floor in knee-high, platform boots that attached to her shortiest-of-the-short-shorts. She was wearing a black top that barely fit and had on purple glasses that hid her ruby colored eyes and were mostly consumed by her wild blue mane.

"Trystan?" she said with a slurred voice. "Trystan, its me! Jenny Winnchester. You know, from college?"

She lifted her glasses to reveal her enchantingly beautiful red eyes.

"We went to spring formal together? Remember?" she smiled "What are you doing at a porn party???"
 
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