It was a rundown house with cracked windows and crumbled walls, the most unlikely place to make a sex tape Sachin checked the address on his phone again, out of nervousness, not because he was unsure. He was thirty-five years of age and was what people considered ‘unfit to marry.’
There was no doorbell. And when he knocked, the termite-eaten bits of the tiny door fell before him. A few seconds passed, and the door opened. A dark-skinned woman stood on the other side.
“Are you the…” she asked and trailed off.
“The film director. Yes. I’m Sachin,” he said and extended a hand. “You must be Mrs. Deepika.”
Deepika shook his hand with a smile – a smile that betrayed her unease. She asked him to enter the house. The living room was not heavily furnished. There were a couch and a TV stand in the center and a dinner table near the room’s farther end.
Even as he walked, Sachin was quietly admiring the figure of the woman. She seemed middle-aged and had a curvaceous figure with wide hips and a tight waist. Sitting on the couch, he observed her breasts, big and bulging in her blouse like two big shot-put balls.
Deepika stood before his gaze, fiddling her thumbs. “Would you like some tea?”
“Just water, please,” he said and watched her rush to her kitchen. In the few seconds in which she left, he noted the garlanded portrait of a man in front of him. The man was too young to be her father. That must be her husband, he thought to himself. Perfect.
She returned with a glass of water, and as she handed it to him, he noted the shaking hands. Sachin took a sip. She is still standing, he realized. Should I tell her to sit? No. I can admire her figure better when she is standing.
“So,” Sachin wiped the water from his mustache. “Do you have any experience in acting?” He needed to sound like a big shot, like a true professional. This just might be the woman who is stupid enough and desperate enough to believe his words.
“I had acted in a skit before… when I was in school,” she said hesitantly, wondering if that was good enough.
Sachin shook his head with fake disappointment. “That’s not exactly what we’re looking for.”
He saw the downcast expression on her face and understood that she was desperate. Sachin decided to understand her circumstances better. “Tell me, Mrs. Deepika, are you married?”
“I’m a widow, sir. My husband died four years ago in a car accident. I’ve been struggling to raise my child ever since,” said Deepika, her voice breaking as she spoke.
‘She is way more desperate than I imagined,’ thought Sachin. He already knew that she was stupid. Why would a film director come to her house for the interview? Moreover, a simple google search would have shown her that he hasn’t directed a single film in his life.
He had put up a poster saying that he was looking for actresses for a short film. Deepika was one of the many women who contacted him.
“That’s sad,” said Sachin. “Are you working then? Do you have a job?”
“I work at the cashew factory, sir. They pay me very little. I can’t manage all the bills and send my son to school with that money,” said Deepika, wiping some tears from her eyes.
Sachin stood in silence as if in deep thought. “Okay. Do you live alone?”
“My husband and I eloped, against our family’s wishes. They hate me now. So I don’t have anyone to depend on. But my father comes to visit sometimes, without anyone knowing.”
This is the woman I’ve been searching for, thought Sachin. Alone, poor, dumb, desperate, and thick as hell. Jackpot!
“I have thought about it, Deepika,” said Sachin. He noted the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she waited in anticipation. “I will give you a chance. You’re worth that.”
A wave of relief flooded Deepika’s face, and she joined her hands to her chest. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
“Now, don’t get too emotional. Save it for the camera,” joked Sachin, to which she gave a genuine smile.
“I’m just happy, sir,” she said. Not when you hear what I’m about to say, thought Sachin.
“Deepika, do you know anything about the work I do?”
She shook her head. “Well, I’m famous for the web series that I make,” said Sachin.
“So, you don’t make movies?”
“No. I make twenty-minute shows that air for a couple of episodes. B grade shows to be more precise,” said Sachin, feeling his cock harden as he waited for her reaction.
“Oh, B grade, what does that mean, sir?” she asked, confused.
“My shows, well, they’re for a mature audience,” he said, and when he saw that she was still puzzled, he added, “They have some love scenes in them, so you’ll have to show some skin and whatnot.”
Deepika fidgeted with the ends of her saree, her face flustered and downcast and her breathing hard. Sachin decided to say a few words of comfort. “We won’t show anything to the audience. You don’t have to worry about that. Are you worried, Deepika?”
“A little, sir. What if my son sees it?” she said, after some hesitation, worried that she will lose the job.
“What will he see? His mother kissing someone. We won’t show too much of anything – just your navel and your legs, nothing more. There is nothing to be ashamed of. All actors do it.” What Sachin said seemed to have made a difference. She seemed a little relaxed, and her mind was almost made up.
“By the way, Deepika. I really like your house,” said Sachin, trying to finalize the deal.
“You do?” Deepika asked dubiously.
“I do, actually. It has a rustic feel to it. Is it okay if we shoot here tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Here?” the panic in her voice was thick. But it was necessary to be quick about this scam. If he gave her too long to think, her mind would change, or she will ask someone for advice. That shouldn’t happen.
“Yes. I’m a very busy man. I have shoots to do two hours from now. So I need to know whether you have agreed to these conditions.”
Sachin could see the train of thought that passed through her mind. The circumstances were too bad for her to let this golden chance slip away. “I accept, sir,” she said at last.
Sachin smiled and pulled out a folded piece of document from his pocket for her to sign. After it was done, he shook her hand and said his goodbyes, praying for tomorrow to come a day sooner.
When the next day came, Sachin found himself standing in front of the same door. But this time, he had someone else with him – Roshan, his friend, and co-conspirator. He was the ‘actor’ Deepika had to get intimate with.
It was early in the day and right after her son left for school. So there was no one in the house. Sachin had told her to keep the shooting a secret, which she happily obliged. He didn’t want someone casting their doubts on her.
Deepika opened the door and shook both their hands, trying to look very professional. “It’s nice to meet the actor that I’ll be working with,” she said to Roshan.
“Do you want some tea?” she asked, in hopes of delaying what’s about to happen.
“No, thank you. I have some places to be. So I think it is better if we just get this over with,” said Sachin, looking around the room. “Take us to your bedroom, Deepika. We’ll get the intimate scenes done with today. You’ll be able to relax after that.”
It was like he could hear her hold her breath, for she had suddenly stopped breathing. Roshan gave him a look. Sachin remembered what he said on the way over: ‘I don’t think this chick is the one. She sounds like she will change her mind at the last second.’
Deepika exhaled a lungful of air and said, “Right this way, sir.” Sachin gave Roshan a grin. ‘You were wrong.’
The bedroom was surprisingly big. It was furnished with a queen-sized bed right at the center of the room, next to which was a drawer and a chair. Then, to the left was a massive cupboard.
“Alright, Deepika, first let me look at you,” said Sachin. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her from top to bottom. She was wearing a see-through black saree over a red blouse, and her hair was left untied and flowing.
The only ornament she wore was the earrings. “You look beautiful.” She smiled at that.
Satisfied with her appearance, Sachin went around to set the lighting. He meant shutting the windows and switching on the lights. Deepika sat on the bed, observing all they did closely.
“Where is the camera, sir?” she asked.
Sachin took out his smartphone from his pocket. “Here,” he showed it to her.
“But… but that’s just your phone.”
“And that’s enough these days. You don’t need anything else,” he said, and that seemed to have silenced her for the moment.
They made a couple more adjustments around the room and decided to start the show. Roshan was shirtless now, and he sat next to the woman on the bed in his boxers. His body was fat and fair, with a thick bush of hair on his chest, belly, and armpits.
Deepika sat with her hands on her lap, her eyes away from either of them.
“Alright. We’re going to start with a simple kissing scene. Now Deepika, show some cleavage for the camera,” said Sachin, his phone in hand, ready to record. The casualness of his request was a shock for the woman, who sat numb with a horrified look on her face.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Sachin walked up to her and adjusted her saree, revealing some ample cleavage for the camera. “There, that looks better.” He walked back to where he stood and yelled: “Action!”
Roshan gently turned her chin towards him and kissed her lips. When she tried to back away, he grabbed the back of her head and pressed his body on hers. Sachin’s cock stirred in his pants, seeing their bodies squished together so close.
“Good start,” he said. “Now, Deepika, I want to see more passion from you.” Deepika nodded as she kissed and started to make some soft moaning sounds, her hands rubbing Rohan’s back.
“That’s good. That’s sexy. Now take it up a notch,” said Sachin.
They broke the kiss, and Deepika laid back on the bed, pushing a knee up in a sexy pose. Roshan went to her, trapped her hands in his, and kissed her neck and collarbone, slowly making his way down to her exposed cleavage. Sachin walked around them, changing the viewpoint.
“Throw her pallu away. Show the camera her navel,” said Sachin. Roshan did so and uncovered her smooth brown navel. He kissed it tenderly, as a lover would do, and licked the sweat off of her, tasting its saltiness.
As he licked her belly, one hand went up to her chest and groped her firm melons. Deepika was startled, and she tried to push the hand away.
“Don’t worry, Deepika,” said Sachin. “Just imagine that he is your husband.”
She said a quiet, “Okay, sir,” and let the man squeeze her breasts for the camera. “Show some of your reactions here,” said Sachin, pointing to the phone he held. Deepika turned to the frame and moaned, biting her cherry red lips as Roshan played with her melons.
“That was great. Now let’s take a break,” said Sachin. Deepika sat straight and immediately covered herself with her saree. She thinks it’s over, Sachin laughed inwardly.
“Now, Deepika, listen,” Sachin sat on the bed next to her. “For this next scene, I want you to strip.” Deepika’s worst fears were realized, and she wrapped the saree around herself tighter, as if she was already naked.
Sachin continued, “Don’t worry. I don’t mean completely naked. Show only what you feel comfortable showing… but you have to show something.”
Deepika nodded and climbed from the bed. “Remember, you should do it in a sexy way. You’re trying to entice your audience,” said Sachin.
She took a few deep breaths, preparing herself mentally to let go of her inhibitions. Sachin decided to shoot her stripping scene over Roshan’s shoulder, who was waiting anxiously on the bed.
“Action!” the director yelled. Deepika licked her lips seductively at Roshan. She slowly undraped her saree, letting it fall around her ankles in a crumpled circle. She then rubbed her hands all over her sweaty body and turned around to show the shape of her ass through her yellow petticoat.
God, what a beautiful ass, thought Roshan. Unbuttoning her blouse was the next scene, and she did it slowly, one by one, pushing her chest to the front as she removed the wet cloth from her shoulders.
She wore a black bra underneath, tight and sagging down slightly from her large overflowing breasts. Sachin wanted to fuck her right then. But no. I have to wait, he told himself.
Roshan was kneeling on the bed, and he gestured her to join him. She climbed on the bed, and they both kissed, wrapping their arms around each other. This kiss was more passionate, and Sachin could see that Deepika was excited.
This time she didn’t push Roshan’s hand away when he grabbed her soft titties. Instead, she moaned in his mouth, forgetting herself at the moment. She hasn’t had sex in the last four years, Sachin realized, looking forward to an erotic experience with the sexy widow.
“Great scene, guys. Great chemistry,” said Sachin, encouraging them to become more intimate. “It’s time to take off the bra. Don’t worry, Deepika. The viewers won’t see anything. I’ll shoot it from tricky angles.”
Breaking her kiss, Deepika’s hands went behind her and unhooked her bra. Roshan, unable to control his lust, pulled the bra off her shoulders and threw it away. Sachin couldn’t believe how full and rounded her breasts were, dangling to the sides as the bra came off.
Roshan began sucking her pointed, brown nipples immediately, like a hungry baby. Deepika made soft sweet sounds as he sucked, and Sachin understood that she wasn’t acting. No man has played with those big boobs in years. This is getting real.
“Okay, cut! That was great.” Sachin clapped. The actors were knocked out of their trance, and they seemed disappointed that he called cut so soon. Sachin couldn’t take his eyes off her chest. Her breasts were wet and glossy with Roshan’s saliva, and she made no efforts to cover it.
“Now for the main scene. The sex scene.” A wide grin formed on Roshan’s face. He didn’t think that he will get this far with this busty chick. He was a jobless loser and didn’t even have enough money to order a prostitute. This was the only way for him to get laid.
Sachin explained how the sex scene was going to be shot: “For this scene, Deepika will lie on her back, and Roshan will be on top. You’ll both be under the sheets, and Roshan will rub himself on you. It will look like you’re having sex. Understood?”
They both nodded and began assuming their positions. Roshan couldn’t wait for it to begin. His cock was hard, begging to get out of his boxers. He lay on top of Deepika, his chest crushed against hers and giving the camera a good amount of sideboob to shoot.
The director yelled action, and the scene began. They kissed at first, slowly building up the suspense. Roshan moved his hips and began rubbing his crotch on hers.
Already, he could feel the precum leaking from his cock. Deepika did her moaning. While it sounded fake initially, it slowly began to sound convincing. Sachin was led to believe that she was actually enjoying this.
Gripping her tits tightly, Roshan fake-fucked her. He sucked and bit the flesh of her tits and made her call out to her God. “Oh God… oh yes… fuck me, fuck me,” she cried out.
“Great, Deepika. Great! Great work, both of you,” Roshan turned to look at Sachin, who gave him the thumbs up. It was time to fuck this slut for real.
Roshan’s hands went down her body and under her petticoat and began pulling down her panty. Deepika stopped her moaning and looked at him questioningly. Her hot breaths brushed against his face, and as he pulled the panty further down, her breathing became faster.
“Don’t worry, Deepika. It’s perfectly fine,’ said Roshan. “Our actions will be more believable if we do it for real.” He said, realizing how stupid it sounded.
“Nice idea, Roshan,” said Sachin. “Why didn’t I think about it?”
Roshan didn’t wait for any further approval. He was too horny for that.
Both their underwear were thrown to the camera, damp with the scent of their bodily fluids. Roshan lifted her petticoat under the sheets and pushed the tip of his free cock against her cunt. The woman made a sound. “Ugh!” It was finally happening.
Roshan looked deep into her eyes and pushed inside slowly, feeling the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. He let her insides feel his girth and adjust to it. “I’m going to fuck you, Deepika,” he said softly.
Sachin could hear the sound of Roshan’s crotch hitting her inside the sheets. They were really fucking now. His plan had worked. He slipped a hand inside his pants and rubbed his cock. This is so hot.
Roshan watched her boobs rise and fall and swing to the sides from the urgency of his fucking. The sight was orgasmic, and felt his cock getting hotter and hotter. Her elbows were pointed up, with her hands gripping the pillow she lay on, moaning.
‘She’s so sexy,’ he thought. He screwed his face up and concentrated, trying not to cum, but it was a weak effort. His cock pulsed inside her, and his body shook and spasmed as he cummed.
Semen wet her womb for the first time in years. She didn’t worry about getting pregnant. She just laid back and enjoyed it, moaning with delight. The man stopped his humping and fell on her with all his weight, crushing her beneath him. She felt so powerless. That’s how her husband used to make her feel.
“Don’t stop, Roshan. The scene isn’t done,” said Sachin.
“I’m too tired, Sachin. I can’t go on.”
Now was Sachin’s chance. “Get up then. I’ll complete the rest of the scene. You hold the camera.”
Continued in Part 2
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