Teaming With the Shrew
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 3: Career Change
A week later, I was back in the grind. Jean and Floyd were shacked up at Floyds place and busy with post production. Brenda-Lee was back in NorCal, and Xasha accompanied her claiming a need for a break. I had four shoots lined up for the week, and I found the prospect a little unsettling.
I had not done any hardcore shoots in two months, and I felt strange going through my time-honored preparation routines. I went to bed early and sober after a light work-out. I slept well enough and showed up two hours early at the location, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I knew the female performer of the day, Gina Duvalle, but not my male co-performer. He turned out to be one of those poster boys for steroid abuse, with bulging muscles, lots of ink and the beginning of a pelican chin. Luckily for Gina, his tool of the trade was already affected by the steroid intake as he was the one scheduled for the anal penetration.
We were all professionals and pretty soon we were going through the various activities the producer/director wanted. It was standard fare, first oral/vaginal then vaginal/anal double penetration in various positions. At one point I held Gina up and penetrated her vagina while my partner, who shall be kept nameless, sawed in and out of her anus. This brought us pretty close and I saw unclear skin, bad teeth, and other signs of ill health. I almost lost it then, and when I showered after the scene, I had made up my mind.
Back at home, I composed an email which I sent to all the producers with whom I had worked in the previous years and informed them of my retirement. That last scene had made it clear to me that I had to get out while I was still alive and healthy. I had a decent stash of money tucked away, enough to last me for a while. The apartment was my own, and my needs were modest.
Jean called me only a few minutes later. He was with Floyd when my email arrived.
“Hey, Ricky! What’s that? You’re retiring?”
“Yeah. Tell Floyd I have to cancel the shoot on Friday. I just can’t do it anymore. I want out.”
“You wanna switch to directing?”
I had considered that, but decided against it. “No, not really. I’ll finish my juris doctor first, and then, who knows.”
“I’ll miss you, Ricky, and so will the girls. You haven’t caught anything, no?”
“No, but I want out before I do. This morning I did a DP scene with some juiced-up bruiser type. I don’t want to catch whatever he has.”
Jean chuckled deeply. “Merde! I hate those. Can’t keep it up without pills either. Anyway, Ricky, don’t be a stranger.”
“No way. Let me know if I can help you with the editing and stuff.”
“Will do. Floyd sends his regards. He says he understands.”
We ended the call and I leaned back. I thought about how my life would change now. Right now, my social life revolved around the business. Many of my acquaintances would now lose interest in me. That could not be helped. I shrugged. My real friends would stay. I grabbed my phone and punched in Brenda-Lee’s number. She picked it up right away.
“Hi, Ricky! What’s up?”
“Hey, Brenda! How’s the student life?”
“It’s good to be back. They gave me some trouble over the amount of time I was away, but my performing arts professor gave me extra credits for shooting a movie when I explained. I’ll manage. How are you?”
“Retired. I sent out emails today that I’m not available anymore. I had a shoot this morning with Gina and some juiced-up bonehead and I realized how sick I am of this stuff. All I have to do now is figure out what I’m going to do with my life.”
“That’s ... great? I mean, no throwing stones from me, but that business is sick. So, you’re going to be a lawyer?”
“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’m going to help Floyd and Jean with the post production.”
“That’s not going to last long.”
“Yeah, I know. This was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I have no plans, and I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Okay, you’re right. What about Charlie’s apartment? Anybody wanting to lease it?”
“Got a few people who are interested, but I haven’t met them yet. We have to weed out the wannabes who can’t afford the place.”
“Thanks, Rick! I really appreciate your help.”
“De nada! It’s what friends are for. I’ll be asking for a security deposit to find out who really has the means to rent it.”
“Whatever you think, Rick. I trust you.”
“I’ll get you a good deal. How’s Xasha?”
Brenda’s giggle filled my ear. “In love! You know she went to that friend of her’s wedding, Dolores something...”
“Good old Dolly Darling!” I chuckled.
“Yeah, well, Alex fell in love with Dolores’s brother. She showed me pictures. He’s huge, like 6’6”, and he’s going to college. Agricultural Engineering of all things. The family has a turkey farm, and he’ll take over.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me? Xasha and a farm boy?”
“Yup! Anyway, she’s staying here. She’s got some credits from her old college, so she can start as a junior. She wants to become a speech therapist, can you imagine?”
I had to laugh. “She was always good at anything oral, but she’s going to make the boys stutter even worse!”
“That’s my take too. I like her. She’s a great friend.”
“Yeah, she’s a good person. I hope her farm boy makes her happy.”
We talked some more about stuff from our lives before we ended. I felt good afterwards. I liked talking to the kid. She was cute, she was smart, and she was gutsy. Maybe ... Get a grip, Rick! No way I could even think of starting something with her. She was a good girl, and I may have stopped shooting smut, but those flicks would be on the ‘net for eternity.
Over the next days, I took stock of my life and my finances. I was thirty-three, in good health and shape. I could finish a law degree in a matter of months. I had kept my money together over the years. Not that I had been tight-fisted, but I had no vices worth mentioning. I owned the place where I lived and I would make the last mortgage payment in a few months. Apart from that, I had a nice, diversified stock portfolio that was performing well and savings to the tune of 60 k. With no rent to pay, I could make that last for three years, without touching the stock. The apartment was also easily worth over 400k, so there were no worries. If nothing else, fucking for a living had paid off for me.
I also intensified my efforts to find a tenant for Charlie’s apartment. Not that Brenda needed cash. She had access to that other bank account which was mine in name, but had belonged to Charlie. Having the apartment sit empty made no sense, however. Neither did selling it. If Brenda was serious about performing arts or being a writer, a base in LA would come in handily.
The first two prospects were busts. One was griping over the lease before she even set foot into the place and I told her to get lost. The second was giving everything a close inspection and then demanded improvements. Like new faucets and sinks, the way she had seen them in a movie. She was working for a Rodeo Drive women’s clothier and she was convinced that her shit did not stink. I told her I’d keep her in mind and sent her on her way.
Number 3 was a late thirtyish woman with an unruly mop of dark blonde hair. She was wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses and nerdy clothing. Still, she was a producer at a cable TV production company where she made 180 k per year. She sounded down-to-earth though and she had no problems with a security payment. In short, after 50 minutes, we shook hands over the deal. She even invited me to have dinner with her at her favorite Italian place, and having really nothing better to do with my evening, I agreed.
Dinner was nice. Sharon — Sharon Feinman — was great company. She regaled me with stories from her job, producing sitcoms for cable networks. In turn, I let it slip that I had worked in porn for close to ten years. She was not put off, but asked me a lot of questions. After dessert, while we sipped a wonderful cappuccino, she finally let the cat out of the bag.
“Rick, there’s a reason why I’m interested in you,” she stated.
Okay, she had a fantasy of bedding a porn actor. I really was not hot for this, and I already compiled a number of excuses when she grinned.
“You wish! Sorry, buster, but I swing the other way. No, it’s about work. We have this new sitcom. It’s called Utilities Included. It’s about a stick-in-the-mud girl from London who comes to LA to join a law firm. She’s only a junior associate, so she decides to room with two other lawyer girls. She picks up the lease for a four-bedroom in Malibu, but then her roomies bail on her. She can’t afford the house by herself and has to sublet. The sitcom is about the weird people she has to interview and even take in as roomies.”
“So?” I asked, thinking that this might just be a great plot.
“So I’m thinking, she should meet a genuine male porn star interviewing to be her roomy. I can see her being completely prissy and embarrassed, and him being a cool guy. A cool guy, just like you,” she ended, dangling a bait. I took it.
“You want me to do a cameo?”
“Guest star,” she corrected. “A whole episode. Lots of dialogue. Would you like to try?”
“You’re kidding,” was my response, but she shook her head.
“Dead serious. Rick, don’t tell me you’re camera-shy!”
I shrugged. You lose your hangups pretty quickly when you have to wave your dick into a camera for a living.
“See! It’s two or three days of shooting, and maybe an afternoon of voice dubbing in post production. Are you good with dialogue?”
I snorted. “What dialogue? ‘Oh, Baby! You’re so tight!’ Yeah, I can handle that. Real dialogue I have no clue. Does it pay?”
“Guest starring does. The usual would be 4 K for three days of shooting. Think about it! You could finally call yourself an actor!” We both laughed over this. “Seriously, I think you would be great. Do you have an agent?”
I had to laugh. Agents were bad in the mainstream business; in porn they were just pimps.
“No, no agent. I usually handle that stuff myself, but I’ll ask a friend to help.”
She nodded and put her hand on my arm. “Please, think about it and let me know!”
Three weeks later I showed up at the studio. I had received and studied the script (there is a first time for everything!), and now I was ready for my mainstream debut. I spent almost an hour in make up, also a first for me. Sure, the girls get primped for a scene, but for male performers a bit of powder on the nose is enough. For the first time, I met the leading lady, Jennifer Saint David. That was her real name, by the way. She was English, with an accent to match (I know, the English speak English; we are the ones with the accent) and she was as arrogant as her character. I didn’t let that faze me. I’ve been shown cold shoulders for a dozen years and I’ve grown a thick skin.
The first scene we shot was with me coming to the house to ask if she’s already decided to let me room with her, something from late in the episode.
Ricky: Hi, Pris! You look good enough to eat!
Priscilla: Oh, it’s you. How can I help you?
Ricky: No, no! How can I help you?
Priscilla: Perhaps by removing yourself? You do not really believe that I would let you move in, do you?
Ricky: Aw, Sweet Cheeks, why on earth not? I’m house trained, I have a steady income, and my life style is ascetic. Plus, I won’t ever ogle you, come on to you or otherwise make an ass of myself.
Priscilla: Hah! As if!
Ricky: Listen, Sweet Cheeks! I spend all my day looking at gorgeous chicks, naked chicks. The last thing I want to see after work is more tits and ass. You’re not my type anyway.
Priscilla: I should hope not! I’m not a slut after all!
Ricky (chuckles): I take it you didn’t consider me as a roomy?
Priscilla: I’d rather take in Charles Manson!”
Ricky (grins): Oh, you’re one of those. That’s why you’re a lawyer? To meet bad ass dudes? Maybe reform them?
Priscilla: Certainly not! That was a figure of speech!
Ricky: Whatever you say, Sweet Cheeks!
Priscilla: Besides, what you do to those women...
Ricky: Oh! So you did some research?
Priscilla: I did not! Why am I even answering?
Ricky: ‘Cause you’re flustered, Sweetie. I hope you enjoyed watching me on video. Have a nice day!
Ricky: (turns and leaves)
Priscilla: The gall!
With that I turned and left her standing. I loosened my shoulders a bit after the intense two minutes and looked at the director, Jimmy Bartlett. He grinned at me and then at Jennifer.
“Great job, you two! Jenn, you’re a marvel. Rick, you nailed it! You guys are great together. Lisbeth, darling, do we have a take?”
“Looked great to me,” his assistant nodded. “Herman?”
The camera operator nodded. “It’s in the box, and it looked great.”
Jimmy was all smiles. “Okay, have a coffee, you two, while we change the set. Rick, we’ll do the bathroom scene next.”
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