Chapter 16

Joe and Connie awoke with the chime of her phone. Connie headed to the bathroom first expelling any remaining cum while draining her kidneys. Joe soon took her place for a lengthy piss. By the time he finished, she’d slipped into a black one piece swimsuit, which hugged her firm body nicely. Joe put on his Speedos which garnered a whistle from Connie. Fortunately most of his clothes had remained there. He disappointed her by covering it with some faded athletic shorts, and she him when put she on a terry cloth version. They finished with t-shirts. Connie grabbed a couple towels and they headed down to the basement.

They ended up having to share a lane, the pool busier than expected. Since he was much faster than her, he’d swim under her when he passed her. She quit sooner than he wanted. He swam one more lap, and she embraced him at the end. “Show off,” she chuckled and kissed him. With the audience she only ground into him a little, but he did display a larger lump when they got out, Joe hiding it as quickly as possible, provoking another chuckle from Connie.

Joe wasn’t much for workout machines but decided to use the bicycle beside Connie’s. It worked both his legs and arms, which he decided he liked. Connie ended up peddling a lot faster than him, perhaps making up for his faster swimming.

“Another dip,” she asked when they finished, both sweaty.

“Sure.”

This time it was a much leisurely couple laps, Joe letting Connie lead in the narrow lane. Breast stroke enabled him to enjoy watching the flex of her ass as she did the same. Since the locker room had been divided by gender, they decided to wash off the pool water using a shower at the corner of the pool. Upstairs they could share the shower, each massaging the other’s scalp shampooing the hair. Though sensual, Joe only got half hard, and they didn’t have time to play.

Connie dropped him off at the warehouse/loft building, sharing a lingering kiss. In the loft he got another one from Lindy. “Just in time,” she grinned and he saw a tall tow headed man, his hair in a scrunchie reaching mid back almost pretty in his handsome youth, setting up his equipment to photograph Stella’s work. Stella watched, proud of the young man even if he obviously had none of her genes.

Joe kneeled beside Jordan, and after introductions he asked if Jordan had lens filters. “Old school then,” Jordan grinned and nodded.

“For the lights too?”

“Sure.”

“And I can attach my laptop to your camera?”

“Yep.”

“Great.”

Joe pulled up his Photoshop software and downloaded upgrades since he hadn’t used it for a while. It turned out to get the full package since his program was fairly old, he’d have to pay, which he did. While the program upgraded, Jordan showed Joe his collection of filters which made Joe happy. Many of them were as subtle as Joe wanted.

“We’re going to have to experiment,” Joe said.

“I figured. What about the gel for the lights?”

“I thought maybe one light source to bring out the textures and maybe adjust for a general shift in color when transferring to RGB.”

“Won’t the lens filter counter that?”

“The combination could get us closer.”

“Sounds good.”

“How do you know all this?” Lindy asked Joe.

“MCAD had a class about this, or at least partly. A lot of it was photographed images, but since it was MCAD and at the Art Institute, we had a whole museum to experiment with. We also learned about turning RGB to CMYK, or print, again matching the source.”

“And you remember all that?”

“Like riding a bicycle,” Joe grinned. “This part is actually pretty basic, just a lot of experimentation. Adjusting print colors is harder, and since we can’t bring the paintings with us, hopefully we’ll get the best match on my monitor. We’ll number each painting, and Stella, could you write down the name of them for each number and the size and the price?”

“Of course.”

They worked all morning, taking a break for lunch, Lindy fetching sandwiches, and continued well into the afternoon. The giant paintings proved hardest, but leaving them for last probably helped since practice makes perfect.

Joe let Lindy know when they worked on the final painting and Lindy contacted Holly on her regular cell phone so as not to be lumped with a potential john. Holly would be taking the evening off, but she had some visits during the day, one of which kept her from answering. Lindy left a message.

Since it would take time to get to Doug, Joe would wait until they started the drive to let him know of their arrival.

When Jordan packed up, Stella gave him a wad of money. “Stel?”

“You worked hard. You did good. So take it.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“I’m proud of you son.”

They hugged.

Jordan and Holly crossed paths at the door, Holly giving him a lingering gaze and Jordan responding with a shy, “Uhm Hi.”

“Hi honey. Aren’t you cute?”

“Uhm thanks.”

Holly giggled and watched his ass while he headed away, Joe following helping him with the equipment.

“Who’s the hottie?” Holly asked.

“My son!” Stella roared.

“Oh sorry,” Holly cringed. She and Stella didn’t get along, and Stella scared her a little.

Stella relaxed. “He’s a handsome kid.”

“You think he’s gay?” Holly dared to ask.

“He’s got a girl, so probably not. Want to see?”

“Okay.”

Stella brought up a file on her smartphone and the taller Holly stood behind her as did Lindy at her other shoulder. A slim Eurasian with smallish breasts and a fuller, well-formed ass and a profoundly beautiful face posed artfully and artfully shot, beautifully in photograph after photograph.

“She’s gorgeous,” Holly commented.

“And sweet, though I’ve seen her temper. She paints Jordan nude and has some talent. Want to see?”

“Yes please.”

“Never mind,” Stella laughed. “Although you see enough men in the altogether.”

“You’re kidding, right? Someone like Jordan would never need to buy sex. Even Joe...”

“What about me?” Joe asked, entering the loft.

“I get it,” Stella said, patting Holly’s shoulder and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You stay safe, girl.”

“Yes Ma’am, I’ll try.”

“Ready to go?” Joe asked.

“Maybe I’ll work on Stella’s site along the way,” Lindy decided.

“The folder’s still up, right?”

“Yep.”

“Just copy and paste and label ... Never mind,” he stopped, seeing her frown. “You know what to do.”

“Yep.”

“You’re going to let me pay you for all this,” Stella insisted.

“Uhm free rent?” Joe reminded her.

“Fine, but I’m giving you each a point for every sale.”

“I can live with that,” Joe grinned.

Along the way to Doug’s, Joe picked up photographic card stock for the printer. Lindy had closed up the laptop, the sun making it impossible to see the monitor.

At Doug’s, while sharing a joint, the young nerd showed Joe how to adjust the color. Unfortunately Joe had to work with the proprietary software, using a memory stick to transfer files into it, but he found the software sophisticated enough to adjust colors to approximate what he wanted. Some colors, as he had discovered with the RGB transfer, had been somewhat common in some of Stella’s paintings, which created some short cuts, but he still had to deal with a lot of gradients, the subtle mix of colors which had a lot to do with the greatness of Stella’s work. Again there was a lot of experimentation, this time meaning a lot of wasted paper, but Joe anticipated this, purchasing three reams. It would be far more than enough, but he would be doing more of them in the future, and using his own printer and software, though he was considering going with something new, something even better than Doug’s. Or maybe not. He wasn’t self-publishing anymore which made him wonder if Doug still was since they’d be sharing the same imprint being distributed nationally. But then again Doug was a lot more prolific creator than Joe, so he probably would keep printing up at least older comics that the imprint wouldn’t print. It made Joe worry whether Doug had signed that away.

He’d have to wait since Doug was currently enjoying Holly rather noisily in the next room. Apparently Doug had paid for multiple orgasms, making up for a great deal of unrequited horniness. Whether Holly’s were faked or not, she sounded convincing.

Joe looked at Lindy, an amused expression on her face. She pushed aside his laptop in which she was working on Stella’s site. “How about we take a break,” she said. “Sit.”

When he took her spot, she uncovered his penis, half hard, and made if fully hard with her mouth, keeping at it until he erupted into her mouth. A kiss and her swirling and swallowing soda, and they changed places, Joe removing her pants and panties completely so that she could spread her legs. Her shirt and bra went next so she could manipulate her nipples, Joe reaching his hand up to help.

After her orgasm, he was hard again, his usual reaction to oral pleasuring, and they once more traded places so that she could impale herself on his cock. But it wasn’t enough friction for either of them, and Joe figured the cabinets could hold her. He had to bend his knees a little, but it proved perfect for her to feel his glans scrape against the top of her vagina, and with his grip on her impeccable ass pulling her into him and his mouth working her nipples, her fingers benefitting her pleasure working her clit, she came on his cock intensely, muting her vocal pleasure by pulling his mouth to hers, and he soon found his release at the tail end of hers.

They chuckled afterwards, Joe pulling up his underwear and pants to cover his damp penis, and Lindy just putting on her top, sans bra, and rushing off to the toilet with the rest of her clothes to deal with the leakage of Joe’s semen. Joe went back to work, barely noticing the lack of noise from the next room. When she returned, giving Joe a quick kiss, she returned to her work as well.

Just past sunset, Lindy warned Joe he should finish up or they’d miss the amateur strip contest. He’d done enough to fill three sheets, four paintings each, except one with just two of her larger paintings, deciding to go with the 8x10 size of the sheets. Each finished reproduction he’d placed in the document using the proprietary publishing software, borrowing Stella’s sheet to label them. He went with a black background and a white Trebuchet MS font which had somewhat elongated serifs, artistic but still clear. Two sided, he had each of the three giant paintings at the back of the three different sheets. He must have used a majority of Doug’s ink, especially the black, printing twenty of each. He’d ask about payment, but had a feeling being with a woman, another woman, would be enough, even if Doug paid for it this time. And for better or worse, Joe hoped better, he’d connected Doug up with his publisher.

While the sheets printed Joe heard the shower running and since Lindy was there, and no one else, and she’d informed the two that they’d be leaving soon, he figured Doug got another treat, showering with a woman.

Henry just wanted to get laid, to fuck some woman instead of being fucked by them. Two days of fucking going through all those videos, the cattle call necessary because he certainly had no stable of trusted actors being a stranger in Hollywood. The casting director Connie recommended ending up being a complete nightmare. And Connie.

Joe really outed her, revealing she was a bottom line manipulative bitch who shortchanged them, probably him more than Joe because he’s the fucking director and Joe just wrote the fucking script.

The problem was he really liked her, and not even in any way sexual. Yes she was cute, but it wasn’t just that she really wasn’t his type. Face it, with his limited choices what would be the point to having a type. But the way she kept him in line, not taking his shit, and yet clearly respecting him as a director, taking him serious about his choices, hardly every questioning them except maybe to make him step back a second and reconsider and as often as not she’d been right, he really respected her, and as a colleague, a partner even in getting this immense and immensely significant project done. And she’d steered his choice brilliantly, giving him options limited by budget, and helping him see the most efficient choice in a way, getting the best out of less. Of course it sounded like that was her motus operandi, but ultimately, just as he had told Joe, and why that lawyer knew he’d never be on a team that would question the production company, it was a fucking big check and it was enough, almost anything would be to give him this chance in Hollywood. No, he was happy with whom she’d steered him to, hungry people like him, either young talent or veterans who’d never been appreciated for what they could do.

Except the fucking casting director. It’s like she wanted to cast it herself, bringing in more actors on what was supposed to be the final day of discussions, actors he didn’t want or need, actors he couldn’t help believe she had some connection with, some kind of kickback with whoever, the agent or the actor.

“You want to talk about it?” Connie asked him as soon as the casting director left and it was the two of them. He’d noticed she’d been quieter, more defensive since Joe’s blow up, fortunately their partnership or whatever taking the back burner for casting.

“It’s not you. I don’t really care about the money.”

“I apologize anyway.”

“Just doing your job.”

“Then what.”

“Susan.”

“I figured. I thought she’d be one of those...”

“Desperate talents.”

“Exactly. Fire her. She’s on salary, so it’s not a problem.”

“Do I need a casting director?”

“Show me your cast, including the ones you crossed off because she’s a cunt.”

He handed her his notebook. “The first ones not crossed off.”

“Do whatever you need to do to get over your frustration.”

“Getting laid?”

“Holly not available?”

“Not until later.”

She went into her notebook and pulled out a sheet. “Other choices. Get fucked but not too fucked up, and come back here.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She grabbed the résumés and brought up the video file with all the auditions in case she needed to review them. Mostly she was checking the agencies his choice of actors came from. She’d actually done a lot of Susan’s job because she knew the screenplay and knew who might be good for roles, and Susan didn’t seem to match up with her. In fact Susan seemed to concentrate on a single agency almost exclusively, and the ones that weren’t Connie had a feeling had some kind of connection, a former agent or maybe some other favor. What all those connections were Connie couldn’t fathom, maybe why the red flag hadn’t come up.

Connie almost completely agreed with Henry’s choices, especially pleased when he wanted to hire her old friend who had always sucked at cold readings Henry chose for that lead cop role. She noticed Joe seeming excited and then worried when he auditioned, but Joe did know the script as well as Henry.

At the end Henry listed the bar scene. Johnny was there and a note about expanding her role. Also a bartender and a waitress and three others Henry called punk customers with question marks because Joe hadn’t written their roles yet. She decided to give them a look and found them interesting choices.

Then she went back and checked the agencies from which the actors had come and found two from Susan’s choices and circled them. They were both small roles, easily changed. Connie wanted to make sure Susan had no claim of influencing Henry’s choice of cast.

Realizing she had time while Henry got his ashes hauled and whatever else he needed, she went out to get some fresh air and called Joe.

“Hey Connie,” he answered. His voice made her smile.

“I won’t take your time.”

“I am kind of busy wrestling with color.”

“How’s that going?”

“Relentless? But I’m enjoying it.”

“I’m wondering if you could meet with me and Henry tomorrow morning.”

“What’s up?”

“We’re firing the casting director.”

“I didn’t know she was a problem.”

“She was definitely a problem.”

“Is she being replaced?”

“I think I’m replacing her.”

“Good choice.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you know this town, Connie. You know the actors. And you also know my script. I take it the former casting director didn’t.”

“She had some weird agenda and no clue. Would you mind discussing casting with us?”

“I’d love that.”

“How far along are you on the bar scene?”

“Not far at all. I planned to get to it tomorrow.”

“Henry might have some input.”

“I’m fine with that. It was his idea, and a pretty great idea at that.”

“He also made a note about including Johnny more.”

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll mull that over. I’ll see you later.”

“Aren’t you going to ask when we’re meeting?”

“I can ask you at six in the morning. Swimming?”

“I’ll meet you there,” she laughed.

“Should I just change in the locker room?”

“I’ll bring down your speedos if I don’t see you earlier.”

“Right. Thanks for the call.”

“You’re welcome.”

Connie felt warm and fuzzy, maybe still channeling her high school self, although she didn’t recall getting those feelings in high school.

It dissipated when she called Susan to fire her, countering her squawking with the fact that they would use none of her recommendations, and a quiet reminder that Hollywood could be ruthless against troublemakers.

For Henry third time was the charm, Nina the first to actually pick up. These were blind callings, just a name and a number and the cost. But, aside from Susan, Connie’s choices had been top notch, including the cocaine he needed to replenish soon. Nina happened to be the most expensive for the hour, but she had a half hour option none of the others did which ended up being a little less than any other price.

“Hello?”

“Nina?”

“Unh hunh?”

“I’d like a date, and I’d like it to be right now?”

“And you are?”

“Uhm, Henry?”

“And who recommended you?”

“Connie?”

“Connie?”

“Constance.”

“Ah. You some sort of hot shot director?”

“Director, yes, hot shot hopefully.”

“Mmm, yes, she does like her directors young and tender,” Nina cooed. In fact Henry had never heard such a sensuous, erotic voice, dreamy, breathy, almost as if she were pleasuring herself. “And how long do you wish to have this adventure?”

“Just a half hour. It would be longer if I had time.”

“Yes. You said you needed me now.”

“I have an appointment actually with Constance.”

“She’s letting you off her leash and onto mine. Yes, Henry, I would be delighted to have a date with you.”

“Uhm, my address is...”

“No no my sweet tender director, you must come here for your adventure, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I will text you my address and instructions. You come right away?”

“A quick shower and shave?”

“Come as you are honey.”

“Okay.”

“A dirty fetish,” Henry thought. “At least if it doesn’t go both ways.”

He had another swig of bourbon and snorted a couple more lines of coke and was ready to go.

Buzzed in at the condo building at the edge of downtown, he took the elevator to a high floor and found the number to Nina’s condo. The door stood subtly ajar as she’d told him. He entered and shut it. The place was darkly lit, dimmers, one lighting a round bed with black sheets at the center and near the curtained windows. But no Nina in sight. He placed the envelope as directed on a small black table by the door and heard a purr, or maybe a moan and finally found her atop a structure, some sort of enormous armoire. He saw a leg, knee pointed up, and the top of her head. A contortionist, he realized, who could suck her own pussy! And then he saw the tail! Her head lifted and her tongue could barely be seen wiping across her pussy. She had cat ears!

She shifted, kneeling, facing him, revealing her slim dark torso and small perky tits. Beckoning him towards her, she then pointed down. “Take your clothes off, Henry,” she finally spoke, again with that sensuous, erotic, dreamy voice. “Doesn’t matter where.”

He stripped and entered what turned out to be a sauna, or something like it, and sat on a plasticized wooden bench. It wasn’t heated. Again the light inside had been set dimly. She finally slunk in, and he could see she wore a headdress, thus the cat ears. It also had transparent whiskers set away from her mouth and what looked to be a cat nose. On her wrists and ankles she wore a band of black fur, not fluffy but tight. She moved, catlike of course, between his thighs, brushing her face against his erect penis, marking him. She then climbed over him until her furred pussy, naturally furry with tight curls of her African American blood, settled onto his mouth, and he took hold of her firm butt and moved her so he could lick her juicy, pungent slit. “Mmm,” she purred.

He kept at it for a minute, effecting her but not making her cum, until she moved her slit away, her hands containing a portable shower head and a soapy washcloth. The shower head had a button which controlled the water coming from it, and she began washing him, underarms, torso, back, groin, legs, feet, the washing, including the pulses of the water, a sort of massage as well, then replacing the soapy washcloth for a new one and rinsing off what she’d done with more massage. Only then did she lick his cock like a cat might lick up cream, her fingernails, extremely long, gently scratching across his nipples. Licking soon became sucking, done expertly, better than anyone else had with his troublesome thickness. She actually nibbled him, her teeth a careful scrape, which served to ease back an imminent cum, before bringing him close again until he finally came without warning her. She moved off his spurting cock, “Naughty boy, you warn me,” she scolded, her hands pumping out all his jism until he became too sensitive and shifted away.

She climbed over him again, and he gave her a couple licks, before she returned to face him, shower head secured, and gave him a soft kiss. “For an hour you get me in that big bed, honey. And you can cum as much as that fat cock of yours can manage, yes?”

“The cat disguise?”

“This is me, honey, Nina the black cat.”

Once more stretching over him, this time offering her small perky breasts which he sucked in their entirety before enclosing her taut nipples and dabbing at them with his tongue. “Mmm,” she reacted again. Pulling away, she wiped herself off with a towel, also black, before handing it to him. “Dry off, honey, and leave the towel behind. I shall meet you outside my little cat house,” she grinned.

He chuckled.

When he emerged from the enclosure, she’d stacked his clothes, underwear first, atop a small table, matching the one at the door, a black cat of course, the surface of the table attached to her ears, arched back and tail, a cat at full hiss.

Once dressed, she came to him, embracing him and giving him a small kiss. “Don’t be a stranger,” she purred into his ear, patting his crotch. “I’d like to feel that big thing inside me.”

He got a little hard from her words. He’d never heard anyone say that, the opposite actually, although sometimes he could see it in Lindy’s eyes. Lindy, whom he last mistreated. Maybe he could make it up to her that night.

Later he waited for her at the strip club, parking in a place where he could see her if she went to the adult store first, which was likely since Holly would be getting a costume there. His meeting with Connie had been great, her recommendations for replacements for a couple actors that bitch Susan had brought in he approved. A couple others he didn’t, but she was okay with that. He thought meeting up with Joe was a good idea, although his plans for Lindy might make Joe more reluctant.

He snorted a couple more spoonfuls of coke which he’d replenished on the way to the club. He had quite a buzz on and avoided mellowing it by cracking open the stashed bottle of 101 Wild Turkey. That was for Lindy.

He’d arrived earlier, had a stamped hand, visiting the little coke whore and cum slut dancer for another blow job and for her to get some blow. But he needed to be outside for Lindy’s arrival.

Finally he saw Joe’s car park in front of the adult store and approached it as they exited the car.

“Henry,” Joe muttered.

“Always a pleasure,” Henry grinned. “Ready to dance for us Holly?”

“I guess. This is Doug. Henry’s directing Joe’s movie.”

The nerd and Henry nodded at each other.

“Lindy, could I talk to you?” Henry asked.

“I ... need to help Holly and change into my outfit.”

“It won’t take too long.”

She looked at Joe who shrugged, but Henry could see Joe preferred she didn’t. Fuck him came to mind, but also, surprisingly, Can you blame him?”

Lindy nodded and walked with him to his car carrying what looked like a small day bag.

Once inside his car, she asked, frowning, “What do you want Henry?”

“You,” he thought but instead said, “I apologize for last time.”

“You mean for basically raping me?”

“I admit I was a bit rushed, but...”

“Whatever. I told you I want control, to at least be prepared, so I can actually enjoy it.”

“You do enjoy it.”

“If you weren’t such a selfish lover.”

“I got you your favorite drink,” he said, reaching behind her chair to get the bagged bottle.

“Fuck you.”

“Admit you’re anxious.”

“Whatever,” she muttered but opened the bottle and took a slug.

“Coke?” he asked and she agreed, taking it up each nostril, surprised when he put it away without snorting himself. She drank down some more of the intense liquid.

“Had a lot already,” he explained his decision, taking a swig himself, a small one.

“Got any pot?”

He pulled out a joint his dealer rolled for him and lit up, sharing it with her. After another slug for her, she started heading out the door. “I’ll see you inside,” he told her and she watched as he took out a small silver funnel for pouring liquor into a flask. Nodding, she walked away, a little unsteady from the effect of the bourbon.

Joe could smell it on her buried beneath the sweet smell of pot. He saw the hint of cocaine in her eyes. “I guess I’m sleeping with Connie tonight,” he muttered.

“You’re not leaving are you?” she genuinely worried. “Doug will need a ride home.” Despite her stupid choices, it wasn’t Henry she wanted to dance for.

“Yes of course,” he sighed, and he went downstairs to find the nerd while Lindy helped Holly choose her costume.

It helped his mood somewhat seeing how excited Doug was finding his dirty comics amongst others. “Only three left!” Doug exclaimed. “Maybe I could print some more for you?”

“You could sell it to them yourself,” Joe suggested. “They’re obviously not carding.”

“This place makes me nervous.”

“How exclusive is your contract with our imprint?”

“I don’t know.”

“It would be like bootlegging your own shit.”

“You think anyone would check?”

Joe pointed out a nearby gay comic put out by a fairly well known publisher.

“There’s this too,” Doug showed Joe. “I think it’s one of the publisher’s. The logo’s similar enough with their ... less adult brand.”

“How much do they own you?” Joe asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“I have someone who could look over your contract.”

“Okay.”

“Your earlier stuff?”

“It’s part of what they bought.”

Joe sighed.

“You?”

“Just the comics, none of what gets based on them because of the movie and the animation I’m doing, at least that’s what it’s supposed to say. But I’m not nearly as prolific as you, so I’m fine with that.”

“If they’re smart enough to distribute here, and they’re obviously selling, I guess I’m fine with it too. But what about the stuff we already sold them.”

“Grandfathered in like my own comics. Of course they’ve got me for their new network, so I don’t think they’d make an issue.”

“But for me?”

“I really think you’ll be grandfathered in.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to my lawyer. You can get your contract when I drop you off?”

“No problem.”

“Want to see the rest of the store?”

“Why?”

Joe chuckled. “Edification?”

“Sure,” Doug laughed, grabbing a couple dirty comics, placing them atop the dirty magazine he’d chosen with actual pictures of fucking.

The two amused themselves with all the sexual contraptions until Lindy called them upstairs, changed into the skirt and shirt that hid her costume. Her shoes remained in the car, taking too much room in the bag. Holly modeled her Lil’ Abner costume, a rag looking top with polka dots barely covering her tits and Daisy Dukes looking jean colored soft material, covering even less than Daisy Dukes. With a giggle she flashed her g string which had the same kind of dots as her top.