Chapter 11: Army Barracks

A day or so later, Brite, Em, and I took the Jaguar and drove to the beach. In our beach bags, after a major shopping trip, were the briefest bikinis you could buy and still ‘try’ to be legal on a California beach. Brite made us laugh by referring to them as two band aids and a cork. The weather was on the cool side, but Brite liked the light and so we went anyway. As she put it, “The chill will make your nips stand up and salute.”

At the beach each of spent two hours doing every conceivable pose Brite could think of as her camera clicked away: each of us alone, and then Em and I together. Brite took well over a thousand pictures with her fancy gear. We were at the water’s edge, in the surf (and the water was fucking cold), against the dunes, in the dunes, and everything in between.

Brite took some nude shots by the water’s edge despite a few people walking by, on the blanket, and in the dunes. A few people walking the beach got an eye full of T&A, but no one called the cops or said anything. One guy jogging the beach stopped and watched us for about five minutes while Em was naked and I had a towel wrapped around me, but we were all business with Brite barking orders for how we should pose so he got bored and left.

We continued the photo shoot back at the house – in and out of the heated pool, with and without clothes, and when we were nude the shots could be thought of as G-rated, R-rated, or X-rated depending on our pose. We did a lot more of the X-rated poses for her at the house.

By the time we finished, we were pretty horny, so Brite, Em, and I had sex – nice, satisfying, wet, sapphic sex in the big master bed. I lost count of my own orgasms, let alone all those the other girls had by my making.

Wes walked a few feet into the master bedroom about six o’clock looking tired after a long day at the office. He hung at the door looking at the three of us. We weren’t doing anything except laying back, naked, and still panting after our final afternoon round of sapphic loving. We were all wrapped together and the room smelled of hot sex.

“You girls had a busy day, I can see.”

Em laughed, “Up until about an hour ago. Posing is tough work.”

Brite added with a smirk, “I got about two or three thousand shots of these two. You tell me the type of spread you want and I’ll have it for them.”

Wes asked, “Together or alone?”

“All of the above,” Brite smiled. “Just let me know and I’ll give you options. Did Seduction Productions tell you what they wanted or where they were posting them?”

Wes shrugged, “No, not really; probably Kindgirls.com and MetArt, but I don’t know what else. I’ll email Mark tomorrow and ask him. We have a videoing session tomorrow at Camp Peddingsen.”

Brite asked, “Isn’t that an Army base of some kind?”

Wes said, “It was. It’s closed now and the land is being auctioned off. It’ll probably become a housing development and mall. In the meanwhile, we’ve rented the place, in particularly an old military barracks, to do our shoot.”

“X rated?”

Wes smiled broadly.

Brite said, “I definitely want to come and watch. I’ll change my appointments. What time are you leaving?”

“Leave here at eight-thirty or nine in the morning. It’ll take over an hour to get there.”

I asked, “Is there a plot, or will we be just be fucking some guys in uniform?”

Wes sighed, “Not much of plot, but these films usually don’t have much on that account. You and Em will both have names in the film that could be used for men or women, so you’ve been inadvertently assigned to a men’s barracks. After some screwing around trying to iron out the error, you have a two-girl gangbang and in the end decide to not tell anyone about the mistake.”

“Sounds like fun,” Em said.

“Can I take some stills?” Brite asked.

“Sure, if you don’t get in the way.”

“Can I join in?” Brite teased, but her tone was even more enthusiastic.

Wes turned and studied the cute redhead. Slowly, he said, “If you want to. There’s always room for one more in this kind of setting. We’ll need a release, as you might expect.” After a paused, he asked, “You serious?”

“Maybe. We’ll see. Let me think about it overnight, but be sure you bring that release form.”

Brite thought a minute and said, “Hey, I’m going to go back and checkout of my motel. Em invited me to stay here the rest of my time in L.A., and I like the company more than an otherwise empty room. I hope that’s all right.”

Wes brightened up, “It certainly is. I’m honored with your presence. I assume you have some kind of ulterior motive.”

Brite smiled, “Getting laid is high on my list, plus having nice and horny people to sleep with.”

“Me?”

“Plus Emmy and Sheila,” Brite teased. “I think we can all fit nicely in this bed.”

Camp Peddingsen was like a ghost town. A ten-foot-high chain-link fence with barbed wire on top surrounded the place. The entrance, although faded by the western sun, continued the fence, although the gates had been opened. A large sign said, ‘Government Property. Authorized Personnel Only.’

The Jaguar cruised through the unattended opening, made a few lefts and right, and pulled up with some other cars and vans in front of a typical looking Army barracks. As we parked Maryanne came out of the building wearing sneakers, cutoffs and a shirt tied beneath her full and unsupported breasts that kept moving for a few seconds after she stopped to talk to us. She wore a headscarf too, and she looked extremely fuckable.

“Hi, Boss,” she greeted Wes and waved at us. “I spent yesterday cleaning this place, and getting set up. I hired a temp to help otherwise we wouldn’t be ready today. I think you’ll like what we did to stage the place. I bought a lot of props at Wal-Mart, but I can return them tomorrow and save us some money.”

Maryanne held the door open for us and we went in. The place was right out of World War Two movie. Rows of iron-frame bunk beds lined both sides of the long room. Signs to a latrine and shower were at the end of the room. The beds were neatly made up with white sheets and olive drab blankets. There were two shiny footlockers at the base of each bed, one for each bunk. A few Army logos dotted the walls between the windows.

Separate from the barracks setting, bright stage lights lit the scene with the focus on several unused bunks where the mattresses were rolled in a coil, and the sheets and blankets were neatly folded up next to them in a crisp pile.

About a dozen men lounged around the room dressed in Army fatigues. Most of them were muscular, but not all. They were all staring at Brite, Em, and me, as we glanced back at them. We were all going to be fucking each other in about an hour, and it seemed only proper to be sizing each other up before the fun began.

Wes immediately launched into action, talking to various members of the crew as he always did about layout, scene filming, sound, lighting, shooting angles, prop placement, and the like. Maryanne hovered at his elbow taking notes.

Nancy came over to us with a friendly greeting. “You guys ready for makeup?” She turned to Brite, “And, Miss Ace Photographer, I hear I’m supposed to do you too, just in case you decide to join the fray.”

Brite laughed and said, “After looking at all that male testosterone over there, I think I will get made up. This is shaping up to be a great day.”

Nancy laughed and said, “Oh, that I was younger. But, on to business, I set up my kit in the CO’s quarters that you passed as you walked in. Come on.”

We followed Nancy back to a small private room for the CO of the barracks. Nancy started doing Em’s makeup as she talked to us. “You’re each supposed to put on those Army fatigues over there – no bras and no undies. The boots zip up the side. I apologize if they’re oversized, but you won’t be walking too much in them.

Nancy also handed each of us of a page that Maryanne had prepared that described our character. Brite was surprised that there was one for her.

I was to be Pat – a name that could be derived from either Patricia or Patrick. Em was similarly going to be Terry, and Brite had been assigned the name Chris. Our names were all error prone and easily confused as to whether we were males or females if one were to look at the name alone.

Our CO was Sgt. Cafferty, and we and everyone in the barracks were in Alpha Company. We were newly assigned to the Company, coming in from Texas with some other squad members who had been assigned to other Companies. We were all supposed to be on our second tours, and one of the reasons we re-upped was because we liked the sex so much.

A list of the names of everyone on the crew and cast followed. I noticed some familiar names on both, include Ted, Ann, and Jon on the crew, and Kurt, Mike, Cal, Bert, and Dave on the cast. Of course, no one’s real name would be used in the film credits. Em was Pam Peters, I was Cindy Cockfield, and I had no idea what Wes would assign to Brite.

The guys’ stage names were equally as salacious: Dick Bent, Dick Long, Randy Mann, Peter Talent, Jack Offenheimer, Roger Herout, and BJ Snowball, were some of the names I’d run into. At least this was one business that had an industry-wide sense of humor.

Wes was still sticking to his motif of a loving scene instead of the near-BDSM sex so many other porn directors got into. Sure, the public seemed to like the other stuff, but Wes’ stuff stood out and made it more friendly for females to watch. Because of that I especially didn’t mind working in his films. The females were respected and not brutalized, although a scene here and there might verge on that sharp edge.