Teen Dreams Book 2
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2019 by ProfessorC

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A continuation of David's life as a schoolboy turned actor. New dramas, new friends, new school. It is strongly recommended that you read Teen Dreams before starting this one.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Workplace   Cream Pie   Oral Sex   Safe Sex  

“Mum,” I shouted through my bedroom door, “I can’t fasten this stupid tie.”

It wasn’t Mum who answered me, it was Dad by walking into my room, removing the bow tie from my fingers, wrapping it round his own neck and tying it, loosening it, slipping it over his head and then doing the same in reverse until it was around the collar of my shirt.

“Thanks Dad,” I told him, “just like my school tie when I first started.”

“Well let’s hope you don’t take as long to learn this time,” he answered, “you could have got a ready-tied one, you know.”

“But that wouldn’t have been as stylish,” I retorted, “how are the girls doing?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll all be ready when the car arrives,” he assured me, “now get your shoes and jacket on, brush your hair, and let’s we men go down to the bar and have a drink while we wait.”

I did as he asked, checked that I had my wallet and a couple of Sharpie pens in my pocket before we left the suite, and travelled down to the fourth floor, where the main hotel bar was.

Once we reached the opulent, oak panelled residents bar, Dad ordered himself a whisky and soda, and me a fresh orange juice, and we sat down to wait for our ladies.

“So, what’s going to happen with you and Charlie, now she’s going out to Dubai?” Dad asked.

“She’s not emigrating Dad,” I replied, “she’s just going to go for Christmas, to get re-acquainted with him, and get acquainted with her step-mum and her two sisters.”

“And then?”

“She’ll come back, and we’ll get on with life. I’ll go back to school, she’ll go on to the next job and we’ll see each other whenever we can. I don’t think we’re ready to book the honeymoon yet, Dad.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you were, son, just wondering where you were at. And what about Kathy?”

“I think that’s about run its course now Dad, remember she suggested we should be free to see other people, and the last couple of times I was home, she couldn’t go out because she had a date with Dave Dickinson.”

“So, you’re between girlfriends again?” he asked.

“Dad, I’ve been between girlfriends since I got back from LA,” I answered, my voice flat.

“Which brings us to the elephant in the room,” Dad said, “Cal.”

“Nothing to discuss, Dad,” I said, “she accused me of cheating, after Munich. At least I had evidence of what she’d done.”

“Actually, there is something,” he said, “David, they’re letting her come home from the hospital for Christmas.”

“They’re what?” I asked incredulously.

“Just for the day,” he said.

“And I suppose Mum wants them to come to us for Christmas dinner?” I asked.

“It is our turn son,” he replied.

“All right,” I said.

“Is that all right?” Dad asked, his shoulders slumping in imitation of a teenager, I wondered where he got that, “or all right as in yes, great, super, I’m looking forward to it?”

“Dad,” I complained, drawing the word out until it was almost a whine.

“So, which is it?” he asked quietly.

“It’s all right Dad,” I began, “As in, I’ll be the good and faithful son and welcome you and Mum’s guests to the house, and even be nice to them.”

“Not the answer we wanted to hear,” he replied, “but I suppose it will have to do.”

He picked up his drink and finished it, just as the girls arrived.

“The car’s outside,” Mum said as we joined them.

I looked at my two dates, both of whom looked absolutely stunning. Charlie was in a dark green Vivienne Westwood gown that we’d borrowed for the evening, and my other date was in lemon yellow.

“Pip, you look gorgeous,” I said to my sister.

“Thank you,” she said, unusually shyly for her, “are you sure you want me with you tonight?”

“I wouldn’t have come if you weren’t,” I replied, “and you, Charlie, are just stunning.”

They both kissed me on opposite cheeks, which caused Mum to get out her handkerchief, lick it and wipe the lipstick off.

“All right Mr. big film star,” Mum said, “let’s go see your adoring public.”

There are, give or take a few, two thousand seats in the Odeon Leicester Square, Britain’s largest single screen cinema, and because of the street layout in the square, we had to get out of the car at the Empire, and walk down the red carpet, the fifty yards or so to the cinema. Outside the doors there were TV cameras and reporters, but between the Empire and the Odeon there were fans, hundreds of them. Charlie and I stopped and had photographs taken with some of them, and signed autographs. Even my sister was asked for hers. She protested that she was just my sister, but that didn’t seem to matter. Mum and Dad had already been escorted into the Odeon, but the three of us were stopped by a reporter from E! just outside the door.

“Right now, I’m talking to David J Barker, who plays Greg Paradise, and his two, yes, that’s right, two stunningly beautiful dates,” she began, “really David? Two dates. Isn’t that a little greedy?”

I was surprised when Alison spoke up.

“We just felt there was safety in numbers,” she said.

“Well, I’m sure we all recognise TV star Charlie Hudson,” the reporter went on, “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We’ve just finished filming a TV drama together, which will be out on ITV next summer,” Charlie replied, “and the stunningly beautiful young lady on David’s left arm is his sister Alison.”

“And you, Alison, are you in films as well, or are you a model?” was the next question.

“Neither,” Alison replied, “I’m still at school and I want to be a doctor.”

With that she let us go, since the next actor was coming down the carpet. We waved at the rest of the fans and entered the cinema, where we were ushered to our seats in the stalls. After Max made a speech and had all the cast and crew members stand up to take a round of applause the film started. Fifteen minutes later I discovered something about myself, I couldn’t stand watching myself up on the big screen either. Fortunately I was seated on the end of a row so I just quietly stood up and walked out of the cinema, back into the foyer.

There was still a group of fans outside the doors, waiting or all the famous people to come out so that they could get autographs. Most of them looked to be about my age, so I opened one of the doors and stepped outside.

“Hi,” I greeted them.

“Hi,” one of them replied, a young girl of about fourteen, “are you famous?”

“No, I’m not famous,” I answered, “I’m just a young teenage schoolkid like all of you are.”

“Then why are you in there?” she asked.

“I’ll let you into a secret,” I said, “I came out here because I was embarrassed in there.”

“But why were you embarrassed?” she asked.

“Because I didn’t like seeing myself on the screen,” I told her, “I’m five foot six, and the guy up on the screen was like fifteen feet high.”

“So, you are famous then,” she insisted, reaching for her autograph book.

“No,” I said, “I just made a film that’s all.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” she said, “I wish I could make a film.”

“Well who knows, maybe you will one day,” I said, “or maybe you’ll be something useful instead. Perhaps you’ll be a doctor, or a research scientist, and invent a cure for cancer. I think I’d rather do that than make films.”

“But being a film star is so cool,” she said.

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.

She nodded her agreement.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Being a film star is boring, I’ll tell you what, come with me.”

I held my hand out to her, she took it and I led her inside the cinema.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To see a film,” I said, and took her through the doors into the auditorium. Once we were there, I put her in my seat, and, as Charlie looked round I held a finger to my lips to get her to be quiet. Then I left again.

Two hours later I was standing in the foyer when the audience started to leave. The family and Charlie were the first out, with my new friend amongst them.

As they walked out Charlie was deep in animated conversation with her.

“David,” she said as they approached, “did you know it was Cindy’s birthday tomorrow?”

Her birthday? I didn’t even know her name.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied, “I didn’t even know her name. I just brought her in because she looked cold.”

“Well, she’s having a party tomorrow, and you’ve given her a problem.”

“How could I have given her a problem?” I asked

“Well, when she’s with all her friends tomorrow, she’d going to want to tell them about tonight.”

“I can see that, but why is it a problem.”

“Think David. On your fourteenth birthday, would your friends have believed you if you told them that the night before, you’d met a film star, and gone to the world premiere of his new film?”

“Charlie, I’m not a film star, I just made a film,” I objected.

“I’ve just seen it,” Charlie replied, “you’re a film star. But back to Cindy’s problem.”

“Ah, I didn’t think of that,” I said, “I’m sorry Cindy. What can I do to make them believe you?”

She looked at me shyly, her eyes looking at the toes of her shoes.

“Would you come to my party?” she asked, “and you too, Charlie and Alison.”

I looked at my sister and girlfriend. They responded with small nods of the head.

“We’d love to,” I said.

“Oh, thank you,” she squealed as she leapt up, flung her arms round my neck and kissed me firmly on the lips.

“Oops, sorry,” she said as I put her down on the floor.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, looking at my watch, “damn, it’s after eleven, we’d better get back.”

“What?” cried Cindy, horrified, “my curfew is ten thirty.”

“You’d better ring your parents,” Alison said.

“I can’t, I don’t have a mobile,” she answered.

I handed her mine, “here you go.”

She dialled the number.

“Hi Daddy,” she said when the call was answered, “I’m sorry, I’m late, but I’m safe.”

She then proceeded to describe her evening to her father.

“Yes, we’re here with his parents, sister and girlfriend,” she said when she’d finished.

Then she held the phone out to my Dad.

“My Daddy would like to speak to you please,” she said.

My Dad greeted Cindy’s, then listened.

“Don’t worry about it, we have a car, we’ll bring her home.”

He listened again.

“OK then, we’ll see you shortly.”

He finished the call and handed me my phone back.

“So, what’s the verdict Dad?” I asked.

“We walk to the end of the road, get in the car and first we take this young lady home, and then back to the hotel. I need a drink.”

“Actually Dad, I meant about the film.”

“Oh, that was brilliant,” Cindy said, “especially the boy playing Greg Paradise.”

I just looked at her as the rest of them started laughing.

We got Cindy home, I offered to walk her to the door, but we (by we I mean the parents) decided it would be better if Charlie did it, then told the driver to take us back to the hotel.

We were spending the next day in London, then the following morning, we’d take Charlie to Heathrow to catch her plane to Dubai, and then drive our own car back up to home. As soon as my head hit the pillow my eyes closed and I slept the sleep of the just, the just plain knackered.

We all met up for breakfast in the hotel restaurant on the 22nd, and afterwards headed out to the British Museum.

I particularly liked the Elgin marbles, but wasn’t sure about the morality of them being kept, especially after Charlie told us the story of seeing them in the Acropolis museum in Athens, and how all the spaces for the ones in London had plaques in them explaining that those parts were ‘currently’ being displayed in the British Museum.

After we finished at the museum, which I found really interesting, we went to a little pub just outside the gates and had lunch, after which Mum and Dad headed off back to the hotel, while the rest of us went shopping on Tottenham Court Road for a small present for Cindy’s birthday, then caught the underground from there to Woodside Park, where it was just a short walk to her house on Holden Avenue.

We rang the doorbell and it was answered by a pleasant looking woman in her late thirties or maybe early forties.

“Hello, I’m David Barker, and this is my sister Alison, and my friend and colleague Charlie Hudson, we met Cindy last night at the Odeon in town and she invited us to drop in at her party.”

“Oh, yes, the people from the cinema,” she said, “please come in. I must admit, it’s a strange tale she tells, but how much of it is true and how much is her imagination, I don’t know. Come through, she’s just telling her friends now.”

She led us through into a spacious rear dining room, where twelve teenagers, mostly girls, were sat round a table eating sandwiches.

“I say it’s not true,” one slim blonde girl said, “film stars just do not come out of premieres and take girls off the street and give them a seat at the premiere.”

“Yes, we do,” I said softly.

They all looked around and suddenly the room was full of squealing, not at my presence but at the presence of Charlie Hudson, who, admittedly, had been described by one tabloid as ‘the source of millions of teenage masturbations, most of them male’.

“Please,” Cindy said, over the squealing, “sit down and have something to eat, we’ve got trifle later. How long can you stay? We’re going to watch a film later.”

“Great,” I said, “which one?”

“Bring It On,” Cindy replied, making the boys start making retching noises.

“Steven, Robbie, Jon, shush, it’s my birthday, I get to choose.”

“Do you have a DVD player Cindy?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

I pulled a DVD case out of my bag.

“How about this one then?” I asked, holding up a copy of Star Academy.

“Yes,” Cindy squealed.

I pulled out another disc.

“This one you might like too, for another day,” I told them.

“What’s that one?” one of the boys asked, Robbie I think.

“Outtakes and bloopers,” I said, “you might like watching me making a complete fool of myself.”

“He can do that off the set as well,” my sister muttered, which caused everyone else to laugh.

We sat down and started to eat, the sandwiches were good, not just sliced bread with a smear of butter and some filling, but really well made. I expressed my appreciation.

“Thank you,” Cindy said, “I made them.”

“They’re really very good. Cindy,” Charlie said, “where do you get the bread?”

“I baked it.”

“What’s it like?” one of the girls, I think she was Beccy, asked.

“The bread?” I replied, “it’s excellent.”

“No, silly,” she answered, “making a film.”

“Well, Charlie has much more experience of that than I do, but mostly it’s long hours of boredom, mixed with a few minutes of actually doing something.”

“But it always looks so glamorous,” she said.

“All right,” I replied, “I’ll tell you about the glamorous life of a young film actor. First, you get up at five am, have breakfast, shower, dress and are picked up at six by the studio car. You arrive a little after six thirty and are in make-up. For the next hour two or three attractive young women strip you off and use paint and powder to make you look good on screen. Then it’s up to two hours in costume and believe me the space armour you see us in is heavy, hot and uncomfortable. Around eight thirty, you get yourself a cup of coffee, and retire to your trailer, which thankfully is air conditioned, because you’re in a heavy costume in Southern California, where the temperature is in the mid twenties and rising. There you find the day’s changes to the script you’ve just spent half the night learning. So you settle down to learn those. Eventually you are called onto set, where you run through the scene with the director. He or she tells you what they want you to do in the scene, then you go for a take. That usually takes about two minutes, then the director wants another take, this time with a different camera angle, or to change your actions slightly, or even because someone on the crew coughed while you were filming. Finally, the director is satisfied, so you go back to your trailer while they set up the next shot. And that goes on all day, you might get four or five short scenes ‘in the bag’. Finally, around eight or nine in the evening, you call it a day, go back to costume to have your costume taken off, get a shower to wash the make-up off, get dressed and your car takes you home. You arrive about ten, microwave a TV dinner, and fall into bed, all ready and eager to start again the next day. Yes, it’s really glamorous.”

“But what about all those gorgeous California girls,” one of the boys, possibly Jon, asked.

“Well, I only lived a couple of hundred yards from the beach, so I got out there most weekends, mostly accompanied by my agent’s two daughters,” I replied.

“California girls,” Jon announced.

“Aged seven and nine, but yes, I did attract some female attention.”

“It’s even less glamorous for girls,” Charlie said, softly.

I noticed Charlie’s sudden change of mood and reached into my bag again.

“Oh,” I said, “I forgot earlier, it wouldn’t be nice to come to a friend’s birthday party and not bring a present, so, we got you this.”

I brought out a plain cardboard box about six inches square and four deep.

“What is it,” Cindy asked, her eyes wide.

“Sorry we didn’t have chance to wrap it, but it was the one thing we knew for certain you didn’t have,” I said as I walked round the table and handed it to her.

She looked puzzled, then opened the box and screamed.

“A mobile phone,” she squeaked, “Oh David, thank you.”

“It’s from all of us,” I said softly.

“And thank you too, Alison and Charlie.”

Her parents looked in to see what the screaming was about.

“Look what they bought me Mummy,” she said, proudly holding the phone up.

Before her mother could answer, my phone dinged to tell me there was an incoming text.

I pulled it out and pressed the message key.

“EARLY FIGURES SHOW MASSIVE HIT. OUTSOLD TITANIC ON FIRST AFTERNOON. YOU ARE OFFICIALLY A STAR. MAX.”

“Excuse me folks, I have to make a couple of phone calls,” I said, “is there somewhere I could use?”

I addressed the last to Cindy’s mother.

“Peter’s study, the door to the left of the front door,” she replied.

Once in the study, I sat down on the comfortable looking leather sofa and pulled up my contacts list. I pressed Max’s number.

He answered on the first ring.

“Good morning David, and congratulations.”

“Nothing to do with me,” I said, “I was just following orders.”

Max laughed.

“You know my boy,” he said, “I never thought I’d live to see the day when I laughed at those words.”

As a child Max had escaped from Nazi Germany, the rest of his family didn’t.

“Oh, I’m sorry Max, I didn’t think.”

“Don’t worry David, we have a hit.”

“How big a hit?”

“We opened on three thousand screens in Europe this morning and sold eight hundred thousand tickets. That’s almost full capacity. We use an average five dollars a ticket. That’s a four million dollar take.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Taking expenses into account, I reckon you personally made a little more than twenty thousand dollars, so far, and we have the US opening starting in about fifteen minutes. Same number of screens, but they’re bigger and more expensive.”

“Oh my god,” I said, “thank you Max, for everything. I’d better ring Mum and Dad.”

“That’s a good idea, with your permission I’m going to ring Tom and tell him what a star he discovered.”

For a moment, I was confused, then I realised he meant my English teacher.

“Permission granted.”

“OK, son,” he said, “I’ll call you later.”

I rang Dad and gave him the news, got the congratulations of my parents and went back to the party.

As I walked in, I was drawn aside by Cindy’s Dad.

“David, your present, while it’s a lovely gesture, it’s too much, you have to take it back.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t even know your surname, so I can’t address you by name, but it’s what we wanted to buy her. It was the one thing we knew she didn’t have.”

“But it must have been so expensive. And it’s Peter, Peter Green. My wife is Sarah.”

“That depends on what you define as expensive. Would you be happier if I took the phone back and replaced it with something that cost say, one per cent of what I’ve earned since I arrived in your home?”

“All right I’ll bite, how much would that be?” he asked.

“So far this afternoon, about two thousand five hundred dollars. Eighteen hundred pounds or so.”

“One percent of that would be appropriate.”

“Mr Green, Peter, that was the one per cent.” I showed him the text message.

“What do they call a hit?” he asked.

“Well, according to the producer, on the first showing in Europe, we had eight hundred thousand admissions. We outsold Titanic on both bums on seats and takings.”

“Congratulations young man, put that way, perhaps you’re right, to you that’s not expensive.”

“Thank you, sir,” I answered, “can I be nosy and ask what you and Mrs. Green do?”

“Not nosy at all, I’m professor of Philosophy at King’s College London, and Sarah is a consultant Psychologist specialising in rape victims and abuse survivors at Paddington.”

We shook hands.

“I hope my daughter has found a new friend in you,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, I hope so too.”

Cindy was thrilled to be allowed to keep her phone and rewarded the three of us with a kiss and a seemingly never ending stream of ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you’.

We stayed another hour at the party, long enough to sing happy birthday when Cindy’s mother brought out the cake with fourteen candles, she blew them out and, presumably made her birthday wish.

We said goodbye at the front door, where Peter pressed two cards into my hand.

“Thank you David,” he said, “Cindy hasn’t shut up about you since she got home last night. These are our cards, Sarah and I, if there’s ever anything we can do for you, please, ring.”

“It was our pleasure. I’d be obliged if you could make sure that the two DVDs I left don’t leave your house.”

“They won’t,” he agreed, “thank you for that as well. I wasn’t looking forward to the chick flick.”

He smiled, then Cindy stepped forward and kissed us all. I couldn’t understand why mine lasted longer than the two girls.

Once the goodbyes were over, we walked down to the underground station, strangely named since it was very much above ground and caught the train back to Tottenham court road, where we changed to the Central line to St Pauls. From there it was just a short walk round the huge baroque cathedral to the Officer’s Club hotel on Ludgate Hill, where we were staying.

Mum and Dad weren’t back, or had gone out again, when we arrived so we all gathered in my room, next door to theirs. The girls had a twin on the next floor, but all we’d been able to get was two doubles and a twin, and somehow they weren’t keen on Charlie and I sharing a double, despite the fact that they knew exactly what we’d been getting up to in Manchester. When they still hadn’t returned by seven o’clock, I rang Dad to find out where they were.

They were being tourists, he told me, and would be back later and that in the meantime, we should get dinner, and not wait up for them.

“Then where shall we go for dinner” Alison asked.

“Somewhere nearby,” Charlie suggested.

“Pasta,” I suggested, “there’s a really good restaurant called Mangio not far away.”

So we went to Mangio. We had probably the best Pasta I’d ever had, it was actually made fresh before our very eyes, stuffed with Mozzarella, and with a thick tasty tomato sauce. We were stuffed by the time we finished and only just managed ice cream for pudding.

Then we walked back to the hotel and took the lift up to the girls’ floor.

As we stopped outside their door, Alison handed me her door key.

“Swap,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“Give me your key, I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”

“But my pyjamas and things are in there,” I objected.

“Of course your pyjamas are, but you won’t be needing them,” she replied, “the rest of your things, including clean clothes for morning are in there.”

She pointed at the door.

I looked an appeal at Charlie, who just stood smiling enigmatically.

“But what if Mum and Dad check?”

“They won’t,” Alison assured me.

“But if they do,” I said.

She just looked exasperated.

“Boys,” she said.

“David,” Charlie said at last, “why do you think your parents aren’t here?”

“They’re having a romantic evening to themselves?” I replied.

“Plausible deniability,” Alison said.

I looked quizzically at her.

“No, m’lud, we had no idea what our under-age son and his eighteen year old girlfriend were planning to do. Only they and our fourteen year old daughter knew, we never suspected.”

“You mean?” I began.

“I think the penny dropped,” Alison said.

“But you shouldn’t be getting mixed up in things like that,” I objected.

Alison sighed, deeply.

“David, I may be a fourteen year old virgin, but I’m at least theoretically aware of the relationship between tab A and slot B. Now will you please give me your key, I’m tired and I want to go to bed. And I really have no desire whatsoever to watch you two give a demonstration on the next bed.”

I knew when I was defeated, handed my key over, kissed Alison good night, with a whispered ‘thank you’ thrown in, and led my girlfriend into the room.

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