Chapter 7

"Hey," Becky said with a tired smile walking past me on the beach from her last shot after Sid called a wrap for the day.

"Hey," I returned, wondering if she planned to play coy about our relationship.

She turned around. "Are you going to give me a ride?" she asked.

I jumped up and escorted her to my Buick. Any further doubts about hiding our relationship ended when she embraced me and kissed me. "Hold that thought," she said, grinding into my expanding crotch. She entered the heart of the group of crew putting stuff away and emerged with Carla, the cute make up artist I had flirted with following her. It took effort with her smaller legs and Becky's long strides through the sand to keep up especially weighed down by the large make up case. I popped the trunk.

"What's the plan, beautiful?" I asked.

"Let's head to my place so I can shower and change, then to RJ's for you. Carla?"

"I'm fine," said Carla about to enter the back seat.

"Plenty of room up front," I said.

Becky gestured for Carla to enter first and crawled in afterwards.

"How long have you been doing make up for movies?" I asked as I began the drive into town. Before she answered I needed to make sure my plan for a longer, more scenic drive got approval from the women. "Shall I take us through Kailua and over the Pali? We can stop at the lookout."

"Sounds good Joe," said Becky.

"Why call him Joe?" asked Carla.

"Barry's too nice a guy. I'm trying to project his true colors, what's really going on in that male brain."

"I resemble that remark," I said.

"See."

"So Carla ... About your career?" I reiterated.

"Bern gave me my first legitimate job. He hired me for his first movie."

"Is that usual?" I asked. "I mean does a small production house keep its staff?"

"I'm not sure. I've just worked for Bern. But I'd say almost half the crew has worked most of his productions. He's easy to work for. He's got management skills. Without getting the whip out, he keeps us productive and encourages our best work."

"Any difference for this shoot?" I asked. "I mean with all the problems."

"Yes and no. He's always been fairly laid back, but he's even less involved with us and he's a lot more tense. Every other shoot he's managed to let me know how I'm doing, usually complimentary, but occasionally redirecting my work. He hasn't said a word to me in that regard, nor has he talked to anyone else. He's barely involved."

"That must make it harder for you." Becky probed.

"Not really. Sid's a taskmaster and I feel like a veteran by now. I don't really need Bern's positive reinforcement at this point. Still it makes me sad."

"Why's that?" asked Becky.

"It's like he doesn't care. I never thought I'd ever say that about an Opal Production."

"You said legitimate," Becky noticed.

"Hunh?" said Carla, shifting her substantial derriere beneath her nervously.

"What constituted your illegitimate experience?" asked Becky.

"I ... I shouldn't have phrased it like that."

"Hey, whatever it was we won't hold it against you, will we Joe?"

"Definitely not. I'd rather hold something more tangible against you and vice versa."

"See," said Becky.

"Ha," chuckled Carla quickly and uneasily. "Well ... Do you know Ginny?"

"No," I lied. Well actually I never met her, but knew who she was. We crossed paths at the entrance to the trailer. While I exited, John led her in. She gave me a lingering head to crotch glance, catching me when I turned to watch her succulent ass and glanced at mine. "Nice," she murmured with a wink before disappearing into the interview. I could have said the same: big but dramatic and sexy like asses of fifties sex goddesses.

"Me either," said Becky.

"I'd been working at a salon in Hollywood as a make up artist doing make-overs," Carla began. "After finishing with her, she liked what I'd done. She'd come in sort of garish and I like subtlety like the way you do your make up," she said to Becky.

"Thank you," said Becky. "I feel utterly complimented by a master." She turned and kissed Carla. "Mmm, soft," she said. "I never knew what I'd been missing."

"Really? I ... I like girls. Boys too, but girls are nice to love. I never kissed anyone as beautiful as you." They stared into each other's eyes. The air filled with sweet sensuality. My penis lifted in appreciation. "I'd like to try doing your make up. It would be an honor, and maybe I could show you some things you might want to change, though you look great as you are."

"The honor would be mine, Carla. So what about Ginny?"

"Like I said, she liked my work. After a couple minutes admiring her face from every angle, she asked if I could wait with her for her husband. We chatted. She wanted to know if I'd done body make up. I told her I'd worked runway shows, bathing suits and lingerie. She asked if I'd ever worked in movies. I got excited. She noticed and told me her husband produces them. She failed to mention he ... made porno.

"Her husband finally arrives. First impressions made me want to scurry away despite the carrot dangling. I'd seen too many men like him in Los Angeles: arrogant, aggressive, overly confident. He's as tall as you, Barry, only bigger. Blond and blue eyes, I imagined him as a football jock on a championship team in High School who liked parties and fucked girls without much concern for their pleasure. Twenty years later, he'd managed to avoid the pitfall of early glory and continued his successes in life, keeping the arrogance up and any self doubt down. But he'd let the jock body go. He'd gotten fat. His once handsome face hung with jowls. I'm overstating it, he's not really obese and the jowls won't become obvious for a few years to those who look at people without studying their faces the way I do. And his body doesn't sag so much as it got soft and rotund because he holds himself in a kingly posture."

"'Ain't I stunning Vinnie?' asked Ginny. She calls him Vinnie. Everyone else calls him Cal. His name is Calvin Carpenter. I think it's some kind of Italian joke since I'm pretty sure Ginny's Italian, probably mafia. A couple times on set a trio of mob looking guys visited led by I think her brother. They acted like siblings. I don't think Cal enjoyed their presence. I never saw him uncomfortable except with those three. But inevitably after the five of them went off to chat, they'd emerge from their conference chummy.

"Damn I'm rambling," Carla apologized.

"Not at all," I said.

"Believe me we're interested," said Becky.

"Ginny fishes for compliments from her husband and he approves," Carla continued. "'I want her to work for us, ' says Ginny. He gives this kingly nod, ruffling his second chin. You can tell he's not my favorite human being. Carla extracts a card from her frilly little purse, writes down an address on the back and hands it to me:'Crossroads Entertainment, ' and an LA exchange written on the front. She tells me, 'Come there Friday at 8 and don't be late, ' giggling at her rhyme. 'A.m.?' I ask. 'At night, doll, ' says the big guy. His voice is low and breathy and makes me even more nervous. I nod.

"First of all I'd never heard of 'Crossroads Entertainment.' I'd been to his video stores several times. They actually have pretty cool selections of hard to find videos. There's like three Crossroads Video stores in the area. But I didn't realize the connection. Then I'm supposed to arrive for what has to be a weekend shoot. It's like some amateur thing where everybody's got their day jobs and can only be creative on the weekends. But what the fuck, I'm a Hollywood girl born and bred and the industry lives in my neighborhood and my mom moved there to become a star and never got near the door except in extra work which she realized meant nothing and got her nowhere, and when she found out I'd gotten work it would please her and make her jealous all at once and having an ambivalent relationship with her I wanted to tell her but decided to wait to find out if it's legitimate.

"Of course it wasn't. But I decided what the fuck. My work went on film. I got to do full body make up. I got to find out what worked and didn't work on video. The director, some saggy ex-porn star with a working knowledge of what to do but no real talent, well, we didn't hit it off right away. Luckily Cal came to my defense, allowed me the chance to experiment. Even if it was some shitty direct to video crap, I didn't want my part of it to be crap.

"After a couple hours of experimentation and no sex, the shoot began. Me and a girlfriend as a joke rented a couple of pornos. One was just a bunch of sex. The other recommended by the guy at the store actually had a story and was filmed pretty well, but sex of course dominated and the story kind of disappeared. But this was different. The stars, fairly attractive and well endowed, the girl buying a bust a size too large and awfully stiff, and I like to think I made them look better than they should have, could at least say their lines. But what they said, it was pretty fucking well written. Some sort of soap opera about the girl finding her husband with her best friend and overhearing them plotting to get the girl's rich daddy's money and the boy being in love with the girl but never consummating until the scene and them counter plotting. I thought the script improved on 'Dallas, ' you know. But it was a porno. Definitely a porno.

"You might wonder what Ginny had to do with the production. She had a role, the horny rich mother who gets to fuck the younger men and has a double penetration with her servants, but mostly she was the fluffer. Do you know what a fluffer is?"

I nodded and Becky shook her head. "She got the male members ready for action." Becky nodded and licked her lips, leaning forward and winking at me. "She loved giving head. When she'd done her fluffing, she'd spend hours playing with Cal's dick. It took him awhile to cum. I think it took him awhile to get hard even with Ginny's expertise. But when the fucking took off, he definitely got hard. The guy's a devout voyeur. Man, sorry, this is longer than I thought."

"We're enthralled," I said. Becky nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Carla continued. "I asked Cal where he'd gotten the script. He smiled devilishly and said he had an inside on high level rejected scripts from a big studio and he modified them to suit the business. 'Tomorrow night there's a screening of some short works by new directors. My inside man invited me to come.' 'You're scouting for new talent?' I asked skeptically. 'You could say that, ' he said.

"Of course it's Bern. After watching five pretty impressive one reelers with Bern and Cal whispering to each other throughout, getting more than a few scowls, Cal introduced me. Bern took me aside and told me he'd seen my work. 'How, ' I asked. 'Cal let's me dub copies. I'm a man, so it's for the obvious reason, but mostly it's to look at potential talent. The actors suck both figuratively and actually except for one in your film: the scheming harlot. The set designer does amazing things with very little. And now there's you. You can't tell anyone about this, but Cal wants to go legit. I read unsolicited scripts for a major studio and have had success finding gems. I always wanted to produce. I read them with that in mind. I've been searching for the perfect script that I can recommend with enough reservations to have the studio reject it, then get all huffy and quit and buy the script and make it. It took awhile but I think I found it. Hopefully it will play out how I wish.' His enthusiasm and the intensity of his eyes and the possibility of going legit had me in a tizzy. I finally told Mom I made movies."

We laughed.

Standing between windward and leeward on the Pali Highway lookout, we huddled together against the channeled trade winds, awed by the sight before us and the Carla sandwich. "You're from here aren't you?" yelled Carla.

I nodded. "Born and raised."

"Lucky boy," she said. I agreed.

"When did you leave this for Hollywood?" she asked.

Becky looked concerned. Maybe she didn't want me to lie. Maybe I'd be caught in it and Carla might guess the deception. Carla was no RJ. I think Becky wanted to keep the lies to a minimum. I liked the woman too.

"A story not worth telling, especially after yours," I yelled.

"Let's go darling," yelled Becky. "I'm getting chilled."

"Show me another favorite spot," said Becky once we drove back onto the highway.

I took them to a lookout up several hairpin turns. Being the leeward side, the field we sat on looking at Honolulu and Pearl felt comfortable. We sat on a blanket and ate our box lunches watching the sky redden the color of the burgundy I poured into their plastic cups. The quality of the wine didn't matter. It warmed us and mellowed our nerves.

"I thought you just flirted for fun," said Carla after a long beautiful silence.

"Me too," I said. "But my gorgeous boss thought otherwise."

"Boss hunh?"

"Her wish is my command," I said.

"I wish you to consider Carla to be second in command," said Becky.

"What if I want to command you?" asked Carla saucily.

"As you wish, my dear. I relinquish all my powers over me and Joe to you." Though the words look like playfulness, when spoken by Becky after a thoughtful pause, they sounded completely serious. Carla watched Becky's expression to see if a smile or smirk emerged. None did.

"Let's finish the wine," said Carla finally. "Barry, no more for you. Pour what's left into Becky's cup. No sipping." They guzzled their cups. I refilled and they gulped down the rest. I could see the alcohol blush on both their faces.

Carla positioned me with my knees up and nestled between them. Unsatisfied, she searched and found a tree.

"Follow me," she commanded taking my hand. "Rest your back against the tree. Wait."

She ran back and grabbed the blanket, running over to dump our trash. Her dash revealed her drunkenness as she took a snaky course. Once at the tree she rolled up the blanket and placed it under my ass and along my back.

"There," she said. I sat and she sat in my lap. "Sit," she commanded Becky. "Move closer. Closer." Our groins nearly touched.

Carla leaned back and closed her eyes. I got the hint and kissed her full soft lips. Her groin swayed, molesting my hardening cock and guiding her cunny lips where I swelled. Leaning forward she kissed Becky quickly pressing harder against me. All of us worried about spies seeing a compromised Rebecca Whalen. But though brief, she managed to tease Becky's tongue with her own.

"Ooh," sighed Becky.

Carla took my hands. One she guided to Becky's pussy. I felt the heat and humidity. The other she led to hers. She felt equally warm.

Letting my hands work, she took Becky's hands. One she placed against my groin and led it from balls to scrunched cock to Carla's cunny where it joined mine. The other she took into her mouth, sucking each finger. She then guided it to her breasts.

"They feel nice," said Becky. "I want them naked." We chuckled.

Carla leaned back again, and we shared a kiss slowly intensifying until her rocking in my lap became more obvious. Afraid to linger too long and too obviously on Carla's lovely full mammaries, Becky brought her hand down to join the other pleasuring both Carla's and my genitals. A teenage moment without hope for release, we played for nearly ten minutes.

"This is fun," said Carla. "Got any pot Island Boy?"

I didn't but knew who did. It would kill two birds with one stone.

While driving into town, Carla wished to see my cock. Becky lay across Carla to release it. "I saw the way you looked when I mentioned fluffing," said Carla. Becky got the hint and pressed her lips against my glans like a too tight pussy until I slid in, whereupon she sucked and blew wildly.

"Holy shit!" I moaned. I pulled into an empty lot and parked. Carla undid Becky's shorts and pulled them down. When her finger touched Becky's clit, Becky tensed.

"Purse," she said with her mouth full. I grabbed her purse and found the lotion.

"Better use this there," I breathed.

Squirting directly onto Becky's clit made her squirm. Covering her fingers, Carla began a more appreciated massage. Becky's moans increased the thrill. I neared explosion.

"Cumming," I said.

"Better swallow," ordered Carla. "You don't want to make a mess in Barry's car."

Carla went wide eyed when she witnessed my throbbing and the semen splashing into Becky's mouth, some squeezing out the corners. Her fingers went into hyper-drive rubbing Becky and added to it by reaching inside Becky's shirt and tugging at the naked nipples.

Finally freed from my nearly flaccid penis, Becky murmured, "Close. Squeeze them harder. Oh yeah. Mmm. Fuck!" And tensing like she wanted to expel a baby, her breath released with her body. She trembled a moment and sighed. "Nice one," she said. "You're a good boss."