I can honestly say that I've never balanced a checkbook in my head during a scene. I was either into how the cocks made my body feel or how nasty the whole scenario got me off. If the sex wasn't on my mind, it was because trying to balance one leg at a 45 degress angle and my back arched to epic proportions, all while trying to brace myself on a rickety staircase with my neck cranked back to look at the camera. Porn's a visual thing. It can't just be some lazy, sloppy fucking no matter how amazing that feels sometimes.

Though, during those 'gimme a minute' times where the stunt cock actually needed 23 minutes, I did mentally balance my checkbook, write my next diary entry, come up with photo ideas, steak...mmmn rare fucking meat...I haven't eaten since after yesterday's scene, celery, coffee, plot directions home in case of traffic, conjugated French verbs, worry about blonds being mated-out due to recessive genes, my gmail password...omg just fucking get wood already before I'm not horny anymore and this scene starts looking routine and lackluster...man, the owner's kid in that pic needs braces.