Summer Holiday/Spain Day 6 After Molly
Dinner was a reasonably pleasant affair, but every time I looked at Molly I couldn’t help remembering what it felt like to have her clinging to me in the pool or sitting on my lap with my cock in her arse.
Harry was trying to get one over on his sister because they had been to a big water park with slides and waves and stuff, but she insisted that she had been happy to stay with me. It was fairly obvious that they had something on their minds. After dinner, Mary took the kids up to bed and left Bob and me to head for the bar.
“Did Molly tell you about the films,” Bob asked. We were sitting in an alcove where no one could overhear. I shook my head. “It’s how we can afford a suite and expensive hire cars. Before we got married, Mary was a porn actress; she made her first film when she was ten years old so she knows loads of people in the business. She was going to give it all up when we got married, but I was never really able to satisfy her sexually.”
I finished my glass of wine and poured another from the bottle on the table, wondering where this was going.
“She didn’t know I was a paedophile; come to that, neither did I, when she married me, but when she caught me with Molly it all came out and I discovered that she’d been playing with Molly and Harry, he was still a baby then, as well. We kept it private for a while but then she introduced me to some other people with the same interests.” He topped his own glass up and went quiet for a while.
“The long and short of it is,” he said; “we make semi-professional porn. It’s not published on the Internet and only distributed to a trusted group who can afford to pay a substantial premium for their monthly film.” He paused again and took another sip of his wine. “The problem with making kiddie porn is finding men who can keep it up when there’s a camera zooming around. So how about it? Do you think you’d be up for it?”
It took me a few minutes to process what he was asking; did I want to be involved? On the one hand it would give me opportunities that I’d never even dreamed of, but there was obviously a certain amount of risk. “Would I get paid,” I asked.
Bob laughed. “Sure you would; not huge amounts, it’s the kids that get the real money; you just get to fuck their little cunts and arseholes.” I told him that I needed to think about it. "There's one more thing, he said. "The people who finance this are Russian and they are very protective. They would take it very badly if anyone leaked information about our little enterprise."
What do you do?