Chapter 20

I was relieved to discover that I was not asked to return to the Oil Company because they had severed all connections to the husband and wife team of the Tingles. It was no skin off my ass and I kept my side of the bargain by keeping my mouth shut about their map project that seemed more than a little bit dodgy to me in the light of day.

I heard on the news that the international company was absorbed into a Middle Eastern Consortium of rich Sheiks driving Rolls Royce motorcars instead of riding the more traditional camel. I knew that they were either rolling in dough or buried in some sand dune in the middle of the Sahara.

My next assignment was working for a big Hollywood film company headquartered on the East Coast constantly in need of replacements for their transient labor force hoping for a stage career rather than a regular nine to five job in a stuffy office. The girl in the job assignment pool was called Marsha. She wore these big glasses that were much too large for her face and had long braids that made her look more like an underage runaway rather than a college graduate with a degree in Business.

I let her cry on my shoulder in the employee’s lunch one day when she was emotional over being dumped by a young lad who had moved on to more lucrative sources of free pussy with a pair of hookers that used him to drive them to their dates.

She wetted my collar with her tears describing what a great lover her live-in boyfriend was in the bedroom. I was a bit uncomfortable at her memories of what a great guy he was because he was always quick to go down on her whenever she brought up the subject in private.

Marsha knew I was interested because I had a big tent in my trousers under the table and she had a habit of judging her male friends by the potential between their legs rather than their sense of humor or personality. I could identify with that because it was more like my own style of lining up bed-partner prospects if the truth be known.

The office of the Hollywood film studio was located right off the Times Square junction with the Marine Corps recruiting spot right out in the middle of the street.

I was still in the reserves and showed my identification card to the Sergeant in charge to get some free coffee waiting for the office to open in the mornings. It was also a good place for me to pick up some tickets to some of the shows or sports events around the city either for free or at a great discount.

The lobby of the studio was like wall-to-wall pussy heaven.

The broads were everywhere you looked.

I didn’t know if they were there for the “cattle calls” for casting extras or looking for employment taking care of servicing the large numbers of alleged producers and directors all pumped up with their own ego-trips of their own making.

A still attractive middle-aged female was handing out badges and duty assignments to the temporary workers which included yours truly. She looked a little like Melody’s mom but had a bigger ass and better legs. She told us to call her Miss Janet. I didn’t see any wedding ring on her finger and wondered if she had a boyfriend stashed away at home or was shacking up with some female room-mates which was almost the only way a single person could afford the rents in the city.

She sent me to the second floor to work in the communications office that had a direct hook-up with the West Coast studio in Hollywood. I had used a similar private machine in the military, and it was about as secure as possible in this world of spies and hackers trying to steal your secrets.

The communications office was loaded with pussy as well. In fact, I was the only male there and I sensed most of the women automatically assumed I was batting for the other team because no guy would work in a place like that unless they were more feminine in their thoughts and deeds than a real deal macho man in the flesh.

The desk was unusual in that it was more of a four-plex station with four separate desks with the desks sticking out at angles to each other and all touching at the corners putting four of us in each other’s laps with little space between us. My other three desk-mates were Irene, Connie and a dark-skinned girl called Yolanda. Irene talked slow, and sexy and made a big show of pushing out her tongue to end her sentences. It had the effect of causing me to stiffen up between my legs and I am certain they all saw me staring at her protruding tongue right in front of me.

Connie was the one girl closest to me and when I turned in my chair, I would often meet her fabulous ass hanging over the edge like an offering to the Gods for fertile insertion.

Yolanda was a mixed blood female and looked more like a beauty queen contestant because of her figure and her facial features which were quite stunning to peruse.

Of course, I was immediately attracted to Connie because I am basically an ass-man, and she was a gem amongst gems firmly packed and in the prime of her feminine mystique.

I did my best to concentrate on learning the requirements of the job and all three of them were helpful in showing me because we worked like a four man team or in our case, a three woman, and one man team. I must admit that the scent of pussy was overpowering in that room and as a man, I found it difficult to concentrate without thinking about the opportunities surrounding me on all sides.

It didn’t help that the previous evening was filled with thunder and lightning in the nocturnal hours and shortly after midnight, my sleepwalking sister-in-law Sue showed up wanting her share of “Billy juice” to irrigate her feminine folds and give her the orgasm she needed to help her go back to sleep in her own bed upstairs.