Brazzers
Johnny Sins, Austin Kincaid, Janet Mason Pic(s)
It was supposed to be a sophisticated evening, a promising first date at a trendy wine bar that quickly devolved into a surreal nightmare. My companion, a man whose ego rivaled that of a certain bald-headed icon, revealed a personality eerily reminiscent of Johnny Sins’ most over-the-top characters, all swagger and ludicrous confidence. The final straw came when his phone, left face-up on the table, began buzzing with notifications from a contact saved as “Austin Kincaid,” accompanied by previews of shockingly explicit texts. Before I could even process this betrayal, a woman with the fierce, knowing eyes of a veteran performer like Janet Mason slid into the booth next to him, greeting him with a familiar kiss. He had the audacity to introduce her as his “creative partner,” a term that immediately felt laden with a very specific, unwholesome meaning in that context. The entire restaurant seemed to hold its breath as she laid out the premise, a convoluted plot about testing a mark’s boundaries for their “adult entertainment” company. I suddenly realized I wasn’t on a date; I was an unwitting audition, a potential co-star in their bizarre personal drama. The hum of conversation returned as I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor in a moment of perfect, cinematic defiance. I left them there at that table, two performers trapped in their own sordid script, as I walked out into the clean, anonymous night. My most disastrous evening was nothing more than a poorly conceived Brazzers movie, and I had just written myself out of the final scene.
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