Chapter 17

By Friday, the love scenes that weaved through the film had been completed. Each evening after, except the last, Jeanne joined Harry and Peg for dinner. And then Harry would salve Jeanne’s horniness, Peg joining in, though Jeanne resisted tasting her, allowing Peg to tongue her. Jeanne didn’t mind kissing Peg, finding the softness enjoyable, and she found Peg’s breasts as appealing. Once salved, Jeanne and Harry ran lines for the next day naked in bed with Peg a silent audience and then Jeanne would head home.

With more time Peg figured Jeanne would fully embrace her latent bisexuality.

Friday afternoon, the shoot done early, Jeanne invited them to her place for direct salving of her horniness, briefer than usual because they needed to head on the road. It was a tearful goodbye on Jeanne’s part. She’d been invited to join them in Las Vegas, but she declined.

“You think she’ going to get drunk?” Peg asked while they headed to pick up Marisol.

“Probably,” Harry said sadly.

“You should write her a part in your next movie.”

“I doubt I’d be able to make that choice.”

“You should direct it!” Peg decided.

Harry chuckled. “First time director? I very much doubt that.”

“You got to start somewhere.”

“I don’t want to act in Hollywood, let alone direct. I want to be with you.”

“Except the film is set in Stillwater.”

“I’d need sets, and I doubt there’d be locations that looked like the early nineteen hundreds.”

“Except the Vaudeville was actually built then!”

“But everything else is different. The streets. Even the sidewalks.”

“I suppose,” Peg pouted.

Harry drove to Laurel Canyon to pick up Marisol, finding Frances there as well surprisingly, along with Chrissy, who’d become Frances’s companion since Chrissy’s first night in LA. The three ladies filled the backseat and their luggage the trunk of the Dart.

“Glad to see you,” Harry said. “But what’s going on?”

“I came to talk to Maria about Marisol moving into my home,” Frances explained.

“She said yes,” Marisol grinned.

“Did you get into the U of M already?” Harry asked.

“I sent in my application,” Marisol replied. “I talked to someone there, and with my GPA and my SAT scores, and I sent them my school records too from when I applied to other schools, they said being accepted won’t be a problem. The late date would only make getting a scholarship or grant less likely. I could probably get some financing next year.”

“The money won’t be a problem,” Frances insisted.

“Maybe for the first year,” Marisol responded. “I’d like to be as independent as possible, just in case.”

“Isn’t Walter helping you?” Harry asked.

“He still is, which would have surprised me since it seemed contingent on my father’s approval, some kind of devil’s bargain I guess, but Mom basically nixed all that. I think she wanted me around too, but she saw how happy I was working with Frances and from meeting you, Harry. She said it was like I woke up from a trance, finally interested in something. It’s ironic though, moving from where actors get paid to act more than anywhere else to I suppose you could say some provincial place.”

“That’s definitely a consideration,” Harry agreed.

“Maybe that’s better. I could stumble without being in the lights already, and I probably will since I have no experience. But I’ll have you there, won’t I? Frances said you are one of the most innately talented actors she’s ever known. I can work with Frances, but I can work with you too. And you could write us scenes, maybe even for our future series,” she giggled. “And I’ll have a job there, working for Frances. And Chrissy said she’d help me learn new recipes.”

“Speaking of me,” said Chrissy, “I miss you both.”

“We miss you too,” said Peg.

“I’d like to latch onto you for as long as we’re here, unless that’s a problem with you two getting married.”

“It’s a problem and not because of us getting married,” Peg explained. “In fact I’d like you to latch on on Saturday until we leave Sunday morning. But tonight Harry has other plans.”

“Saying goodbye to Yolanda,” Harry finished. “But me picking you up here, Big Sis, seems to change things. I thought Melly would drive you to the chapel.”

“I’m still meeting them at the Bellagio,” Frances explained. “I just figured since you were picking up Marisol, I could hitch a ride and take care of urgent business at the same time.”

“Not as nice as the Bentley,” Harry chuckled.

“The company more than makes up for it,” Frances grinned.

“Speaking of company,” Harry asked, “how did you explain Chrissy’s presence?”

“Partnership in the catering business,” Chrissy explained. “Frances had me flown here so that we could finalize plans. We actually worked on it while she waited for the next scene she was in, and she did have some interesting insights. I even got to be an extra,” Chrissy giggled. “Maybe we could get together before Yolanda takes you away?”

“Except I plan to drop myself off at where Yolanda’s staying,” Harry told her, “and Frances cab take the car. The chapel is supposedly walking distance from Yolanda’s hotel.”

“Damn it.”

“Yolanda definitely doesn’t mind my company,” Marisol reminded Harry. “I can’t imagine her minding Chrissy’s. I certainly wouldn’t.”

“I hope she got a big bed,” Chrissy giggled.

Yolanda didn’t mind, or more accurately, she accepted the situation. She even accepted Harry and Chrissy bringing up their bags and Marisol’s to Yolanda’s room, Harry’s just a day bag anticipating the one night, and Chrissy only needed one piece of luggage too, Yolanda lending Harry her key card, and keeping Marisol company, giving her a tour of downtown Las Vegas, letting her witness the Fremont Street Experience.

For Chrissy it was almost an act of worship, sucking Harry’s cock until he came in her mouth, and then letting him get hard while sucking her through two orgasms, almost three, which arrived soon after he penetrated her. Several orgasms followed since his second orgasm was notoriously long in coming so to speak. He fucked her all which ways, starting briefly, until that quick orgasm, in the missionary position, and then, most intimately, with her in his lap, reminding them of the love they had for each other. That moved to her on top through her next orgasm and, at her insistence, back to missionary for a couple more and finally to doggy style where she insisted he let loose, and after yet another orgasm, she joined him for his climactic release.

He called Yolanda, and she headed to the room with Marisol. He greeted them naked and showered. She and Marisol shared in sucking him hard, Marisol sitting on Harry’s face and cumming there while Chrissy assisted getting Yolanda even more ready with her tongue. Once Yolanda gloved his cock, she sat on it. The other two ladies watched, Chrissy spooned behind Marisol, gently stroking fingers into her and caressing her nipples.

Despite Yolanda’s best efforts, which were better than any Harry experienced, only she ended up cumming which seemed to trigger Chrissy getting into a sixty-nine with Marisol, while Yolanda switched things up and like Chrissy had before insisted he fuck her doggy style and to do it for his own pleasure, though hers came anyway, repeatedly, her orgasms arriving ever quicker, and when he did finally release, it was almost a relief, except it also created her strongest orgasm yet, one in which she experienced the little death.

She didn’t waken long after recovery. After Harry disposed of the condom and both she and Chrissy nestled against his side, Marisol spooned behind Chrissy, they all soon slept.

They awakened to the alarm from Harry’s smart phone. He pissed and then relinquished the bathroom to the others, only to have Yolanda insist he join her in the shower once she’d used the toilet. There she sucked him hard before he returned the favor. Then she bent down and presented her lovely ass to him.

“Condom,” he reminded her.

“I trust you to be my first uncovered cock,” she insisted. “I guess I never really trusted any of my ex’s.”

“You on the pill?”

“Regulates my periods. Please?”

He moved behind her and had to bend his knees in order to get in the right position. Her hand led his cock in. He ended up lifting her via a hand on her pubic bone, a finger pressing her clit. Somehow she found secure footing on the edges of the tub almost as if meant for this. Her kegel contractions helped promote Harry’s orgasm, and his finger remaining on her clit promoted hers.

“I love your naked cock,” she moaned.

“I love your naked pussy,” he moaned back.

“Almost there,” he admitted.

“Just a little longer.”

He held out the best he could, but it was actually his hot cum spurting freely into her uterus that sent her off. Her elongated groan reverberated in the bathroom.

When his penis slipped out, she giggled. “Best clean up and let me drain.”

He chuckled and washed away their combined liquids at his groin and exited the bath, brushing his teeth and shaving while she finished. He enjoyed watching her lovely naked body for the last time while she dried. She gave him a wink and left to get dressed.

While they played in the shower, room service had arrived, just fruit and bagels and cream cheese. The room had its own coffee machine and it brewed its second carafe. He got a kiss from Marisol and Chrissy, both wearing the hotel’s terry cloth robes which they discarded and headed into the bathroom to share their own shower. Yolanda had put on lacey matching panties and bra, very sexy, and was pulling on a skirt when he came out.

“Those were for you,” she pouted, securing her skirt and grabbing a blouse.

“I’ll remember you in them,” he promised.

“You better,” she smiled sadly.

He dressed before sitting down to eat, his coffee already poured by Yolanda. She sat across from him.

“You woke up early,” she said.

“Morning sex,” he explained. “But I hadn’t anticipated ... company.”

“I guess we got what we wanted.”

“I guess so,” he chuckled.

“You clean up nice,” she said. He’d put on an off white dress shirt and some black pants.

“You always look lovely.”

“Thanks,” she smiled sadly again.

When the ladies emerged from the bathroom, they both wore make-up, subtly accentuating their beauty.

“I didn’t even know you ever wore make-up,” Harry commented to Marisol.

“Remember that gay boy I told you about?” Marisol said. “He wants to be a movie stylist and he found me to be a challenging model.”

“I should put my face on too,” said Yolanda.

“Your face is fine how it is,” Harry insisted.

“Such a man,” Yolanda chuckled.

Skirts and blouses seemed to be a theme, though of different colors. Yolanda had gone with brown: a light brown, almost golden blouse with a darker brown skirt. Marisol chose red as her color: a deep red blouse and a dark maroon skirt. Chrissy went with blue, sky blue setting off her eyes and a navy blue skirt. All three skirts hung to or just past their knees, their calves naked, and sensible shoes shod their feet, flats for Yolanda and Chrissy and cute Mary Janes for Marisol who was the only one who wore socks which could be seen, a cute pink just above her ankles.

Thus dressed, the ladies paraded with Harry, Yolanda leading the way, the several blocks to the chapel. The temperature remained on the cooler side this early in the day and the year, the extreme summer heat not quite arrived, so Harry was comfortable in his long sleeves. They arrived only a couple minutes early.

Frances met them wearing the same theme, a lovely white blouse and black skirt. “Let’s trade rings,” she said, and Harry removed the golden band on his finger, already in the marriage spot and traded it for the ruby ring Peg had chosen and had been wearing. “Follow me,” she added, and led them to the specific chapel. “Why don’t you lovely ladies find a seat,” she said, holding Harry back. She told him, “Peg wants things a little old fashioned. Head up to the fake Elvis and wait.”

Passing down the aisle he nodded to the several familiar faces, not a few surprising him. His baby sister had retained a slim face, and its beauty that barely steered away from gaunt. Frances and he speculated she’d been a disciple of Jane Fonda, both in the strenuous exercises and the eating disorders. He barely recognized the young man sitting beside her, his brain somehow computing that he was an older version of the pictures he’d seen of Carissa’s son, the first grandson of his asshole father despite Carissa being the baby of the family, the last picture being of him as a young teen.

Perhaps only somewhat surprising was Sam, but the slightly chunky red head guy beside her was a surprise, a happy one. They sat close enough together to be intimate friends.

Merc being there didn’t completely surprise him either, nor did Elvis Junior sitting nearby staring daggers at the Elvis impersonator. Much more surprising was Pete and Jerry sitting between Merc and his driver.

The real Elvis had been heard singing some Christian dirge with the Jordanaires. The fake one, fairly tall and on the thick side with greased back black hair wearing the glittery costume of late Elvis, must have had some controls in the pulpit he stood behind, turning down the piped in music and turning on the instrumental for I Want You, I Need You, I Love You, and sang the song fairly convincingly into a fabric covered mic. Harry turned to the entrance and watched Peg walk beside Frances. She wore white, but not a wedding gown, more a designer dress seemingly built just for her, one strong shoulder bare, the other with a wide strap, almost toga like but much too fitted.

When she arrived beside Harry, Frances taking a nearby seat, he told her, “You take my breath away.”

“Back at you Big Guy,” she grinned.

The ceremony went quick, Peg whispering, “I chose the shortest and the not corny one,” and Fake Elvis announced Harry Lynch and Peg Lynch to be married. Harry lingered on the kissing the bride part.

Perhaps in the most graceful way possible at the Graceland chapels, the bridal party was chased out of the room to make room for the next wedding. Harry and Peg were urged to a counter where their license was officially signed and notarized, Frances serving as witness. A golden CD ROM was handed to Peg as was her purse she’d stashed. She shoved the recording of the marriage into the purse and Frances took it from her. “Reception at the Bellagio thanks to Sissy,” Frances informed them. “Melly will be your chauffeur.”

“Has everyone been informed?” Harry asked.

“Either Melly or I let them know. There’s a couple of limousines for those who need them. I thought you’d be more comfortable in the Bentley.”

“Thanks,” both Harry and Peg said.

“I’ll drive the rental, so it’ll be there when you guys are ready to go,” Frances added. “I imagine everyone will prefer the limos.”

Everyone except Sissy as it turned out, nothing special about limos for those two stars.

“Congrats,” Melly said once the two settled into the back of the Bentley. “Any requests?”

“Prince of course,” Harry chuckled.

“I’d hope you’d say that,” Melly said, and started the music with Nothing Compares to You sung by Sinead O’Connor.

“How’s it going?” Harry asked.

“Same old. How’s the computer?”

“Great.”

“How safe is it?” Peg asked.

“The security? Safe as can be. You’re thinking of getting it?”

“Just curious.”

“Curious, yeah. It’ll let you dive into deep dark water and watch your ass, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do. Merc slipped us a couple joints. Want to smoke?” Peg asked, putting a joint in her mouth and lighting up.

“Sure. That Merc’s a scary dude.”

“You got that right,” Harry said.

“Large and in charge. It was his eyes, cold and predatory, and checking me out as if I were a piece of meat and he was deciding if I were prime or choice, you know?”

“I do,” Harry said. “Where I stayed he was like the warlord, and getting on his good side, especially if he noticed you, was a matter of survival. Outside he’s baron of his own fiefdom, though his baroness runs things.”

“He’s still the scary warlord then.”

“I suppose so, and I’m still on his good side. We actually got to be good friends. He let me under his glossy armor. Nothing warm and fuzzy there, quite the opposite, more hot and edgy, but he’s got his charm and his vulnerability. He’s not quite the dominant character who needs to be submissive in sex play, except he is the bottom in his homosexual relationships, which he mostly is.”