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Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2004 1K Bedtime Flash Contest
Honorable Mention

Drama Queen/Soap Star/Porn Princess

If I could, I would climb into the TV set in the lunchroom. The lunchroom is a horrible place, a lot like high school, where you’re not sure where to sit if it’s crowded. No one asks you to join them, and if you do, they give you a dirty look. I usually try to claim the spot right by the TV set, turn on my soap opera, and eat my American cheese and white bread sandwich with pickle relish.

A lot of people think I sit so close because I cannot see very well, but that’s not it at all. I just want to escape for a half hour. If anyone speaks to me, I turn off the TV. They’re not intruding in my world. It’s all or nothing when I watch.

If I were able to climb into the TV set, I would shed 150 pounds on the spot. I’d have no more nasty, curly brown hair or a blotchy complexion. I would be blond, thin and beautiful. Everything would be natural, a flawless complexion, sparkling blue eyes, a stacked chest with depth defying cleavage and long legs that would never quit.

I’d have a name like Brooke or Tiffany. No one would be able to say I was a double dipper, or I smelled, or maybe I should go home to put on a bra because my t-shirt was transparent. If I wore something like that with my new blond image, the men would be going wild and all the women would be jealous.

Everyone would be looking at me because I was on TV. I’d live in a pleasant place, a pleasant town, a pleasant world. I’d work PR for a big company, own a half million-dollar condominium and be involved in some elaborate baby kidnapping scheme, but it wouldn’t be for evil. It would be for good.

Some gorgeous hunk of a man with a name like Rex or Brett would be madly in lust with me. He would be fantastically sexy and tall, with dark hair and a wicked grin. All the women would have crushes on him, but he would only have eyes for me.

When the camera would pan away to commercial, we would keep kissing, our tongues locked in each other’s mouths. The director would tell us to break it up, and our co-stars would say maybe we should throw some cold water on them, but we wouldn’t care. We would upset the filming schedule. New plot lines would have to be developed. Everything would have to be written so it revolved around me. My hair would get blonder. My cleavage would get deeper. My body would eat up the screen so much that viewers wouldn’t be able to remember the other girls’ names.

Sure, my co-stars would have some hidden resentment. There were would be cold shoulders and snubbing at award shows on the red carpet, but these things happen when you’re a rising star.

Actually, I think I would become so incredibly sexy from all the attention that they couldn’t even film me in a t-shirt and jeans on daytime TV. I’d be called indecent just for my full breasts and pouty lips. They would move me to a nighttime cop drama, where the camera would pan across by barely clad body, my nipples a fraction of an inch from making a public appearance. The censors would be in an uproar. The producers would flinch.

Under pressure from the studio, my part would be whittled down to an occasional appearance from behind a desk, but the public would be clamoring for more. How could I deny them my beauty?

I’d do one of those sexy photo shoot videos, painting abstracts with my naked body. They’d bring in a guy who was even sexier than Rex or Brett to be my assistant. His name would be Ram or Bud, and he would make those soap star boys seem like schoolchildren.

Our bare bodies would mingle in the paint. There would be no artistic camera shots here or panning away to a commercial. My public would get nearly all of me. I’d be up on all fours, staring into the camera as I took it from behind. No one would be able to believe I could take all this in me. I’d lick my lips, arch my back and push back into him with a relish that made my breasts bounce like waves across an ocean. He’d slap my ass, sending paint splattering across the lens. The director would tell me to slide my hand between my legs to play with myself and him, but I would already be doing it.

The money shot would be next, but we just couldn’t stop fucking. Nothing could stop Ram or Bud from coming inside me. The director would be screaming you will never work in this town again, but I would just look into the camera, letting my mind-blowing orgasm free on the world, and they would have to come up with an even racier rating system than the triple X just for me.

All the other porn stars would hate me. I’d get death threats with teddy bears stabbed with steak knifes on my front door, but I wouldn’t care, because I hadn’t even done a full fledged beaver shot for the camera yet. Wait until they see that.

I’d do it in a wedding dress on a white set. The only things that would be pink would be me and the pink roses strewn around my ankles. My face would be hidden behind a veil. It would be a royal wedding between me and my adoring fans. No one would care if I double dipped, smelled or wore inappropriate clothing to work. They would only want to know if I would turn over.

If only I could climb into this damn TV.

Tara Alton’s work has appeared in Best Women’s Erotica, Clean Sheets, Scarlet Letters and Mind Caviar. When she’s not working as a travel agent, she writes erotica. Check out her website at and her blog at

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To: Tara Alton

Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2004 1K Bedtime Flash Contest
Honorable Mention