Chapter 22

The end of summer approaching, a lot more things had been accomplished than those who would be heading back to school thought could happen for a summer vacation. Marisol managed to get work with Frances’s underprivileged project, Frances leaving her the info for her in her office before heading back to work on her series, but, almost like a working mother, managed to take care of Frances’s home as well both as maid and cook, Chrissy always available for advice for the latter.

Susie kept busy too, and not just mucking out Frances’s stable, but helping out with her girlfriend’s family’s stable as well, along with becoming an experienced horse rider. She and Harriet enjoyed making out in a clean paddock from time to time, but also shared Max in Max’s bedroom, ending up sleeping there every once in a while. Mostly though they’d sneak into Susie’s room at Frances’s to enjoy each other’s bodies. Even though Harriet’s father was gay himself, he was strict about Harriet sleeping anywhere other than at home and didn’t approve of how close Harriet had become with their new worker. The sleeping over, and its particular location, was always due to Max pretending to be her mother getting permission for a sleepover. Harriet’s mother didn’t care one way or another about where Harriet slept, and was happy for her daughter. Having trysts with Harry definitely helped her attitude, and they did revisit that secret place a couple more times.

Lizzy, with Harry’s help, managed to clean out the former whore rooms at the Vaudeville. The contractor working to upgrade the bar shored things up there, making it passable for inspection and added electrical and venting and a sink in a newly created utility closet at the back so when it became a semblance of trysting rooms, the large bowls serving as wash basins could be filled from a closer, easier source, the basin to clean john’s privates and for whore baths, potentially as far as diners choosing the rooms as theme dining, and by summer’s end, tried out as actual trysting places. New windows which could actually open finished things before Lizzy, with Harry’s help, painted the result before they hauled up new beds with firm enough mattresses for customers to sit.

Lizzy also helped in the bar, serving drinks and food when the Vaudeville became a functioning restaurant. Chrissy hired a gay guy and a straight young woman to help out with cooking and catering, perhaps purposely so as not to be tempted to play with them.

Wednesday evenings though Lizzy reserved for the workshop, and towards the end of summer, several other times too in order to help complete the feature to be shown at the sort of mini festival of art done by the participants of the workshop. She also worked up a one act featuring herself, Marisol, as well as Harry, who helped direct it.

The feature ended up being a sort of pilot for the show starring Marisol and Harry and including several of the attendees, Cam doing an excellent job of directing the amateur actors, often miscast for lack of selection, as well as pulling it all together with Max to edit. They even went out to steal location shots in South Minneapolis and used the seedy apartment that one of the artists lived in. Tom’s office became the office of Harry’s character, a bit too upscale, but the sofa bed had a suggestive presence.

Robin ended up using the summer vacation as a true vacation, and when the thing he tried with his friend’s young sister didn’t pan out when she defended her virginity, he found another girl to play with satisfactorily before he moved on, befriending a talented young dancer and actor Max’s age when the workshop had a party at his house, the young man convincing him learning dance movement would help out his athleticism. By the end of summer, Robin discovered his incipient gayness.

He wasn’t the only one finding a boyfriend. Busy Lizzy and Cam hooked up, their relationship, destined to be short lived, open enough to allow Cam’s occasional trysts with Max, mostly to alleviate her horniness, and for Lizzy to enjoy Harry’s much more skilled tongue even less times even with her sleeping in Peg’s guest room many nights, and it did result in some wonderfully wanton drawings of her. However, despite these interludes, when the two teens got together it was intense. It got to the point, pretty early on, where she no longer needed Cam to masturbate before coming to bed, accepting his hardness which she almost always seemed to create, though once he fucked her with it, she still loved sucking him from soft to hard to fucking again. But the intensity went beyond just sex, it included just being together before and cuddling and talking after.

That intensity brought tears to her eyes on the penultimate night they had together, following the showcase of the workshop. She managed to hold back through the cheers and bows, but pulled him away as soon as she could, bringing him out to the garden at his family’s mansion.

Embracing him and letting out her anguish in the form of sobs, Lizzy murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell would you be sorry?” Cam asked.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she told him.

“Me too. I tried to find a way to finish school here.”

“Really?” she murmured.

“Minnehaha Academy because the ʹrents would disown me if I went to public schools. I asked them to check and they said it was too late but I think they want me to finish up in that elite school, so I doubt they even tried. They want me at Wharton next.”

“Isn’t that some elite business school?”

“The last thing I want.”

“I know,” Lizzy agreed.

“Did you meet those people Frances brought with her?”

“One of them creeped me out. Marisol too. He said he was an agent.”

“Being with Frances I imagine it’s true. You do realize you have an effect on men, as does Marisol.”

“I can feel it,” she giggled.

“So I’d give him some slack, and if your gut feeling turns out right, give him a swift kick in the balls.”

“Neither of us are interested. I’m more interested in writing than performing and Marisol wants to keep training as an actress before she jumps into some Hollywood thing, except if it’s for Harry’s writing. She trusts him to give her the best roles.”

“Which you wrote too.”

“With Harry’s invaluable assistance. Wasn’t there a scout too?”

“From USC film school.”

“Maybe you should go back in.”

“I’d rather be with you.”

“You’d rather not be at Wharton.”

“True,” he chuckled and pulled her head up so they could kiss.

When it ended, both breathless, she murmured, patting his erection, “Maybe I should relieve this first.”

“There’s a gardening shed. Uncomfortable and smelly, but...”

“Show me.”

He led her to it. Inside she knelt and opened his trousers. “You sure?” he asked.

“You can fuck me later,” she giggled and enveloped his glans with her mouth. He loved everything about sex with Lizzy, especially once that weird shit ended, though even then he couldn’t complain because her greatest attribute sexually was her mouth, and that always began things after he showered. But this was the first time she sucked him when he was fully hard. It’s why he asked if she was sure.

Only a couple minutes later, maybe less, he released what seemed a torrent into her mouth, and as per usual, at least the few times she didn’t fuck him before his release, she somehow managed to swallow it all.

“That was a challenge,” she giggled after, putting away his soft penis. “Pretty pent up.”

“You amaze me,” he murmured.

She looked into his eyes. One thing she preferred about Harry, perhaps even more than his ability to tease her into some of the most intense orgasms of her life despite not fucking, was his acceptance of her mouth despite the semen that had just filled it. When Cam had dodged her mouth that first time, she realized Cam wouldn’t let that happen.

Instead he kissed her forehead and thanked her.

There weren’t many strikes against Cam, but that was one.

“There you are,” Frances said to Cam as soon as they reentered the ballroom. “There’s someone who wants to meet with you.”

She led Cam to a middle aged, somewhat thickly built but still attractive brunette woman still talking to Max. Max looked more excited than his usually calm and cool friend ever looked. “Here’s the maestro,” Max grinned.

“Helen Saperstein,” the woman said, lifting her hand.

“Cameron Steinberg,” Cam replied, shaking the offered hand, a surprisingly firm grip, confidence rather than testing.

“You show real talent, Cameron.”

“Cam is fine. Thanks.”

“Max said you’ve directed other films.”

“Another longer one we showed last year. Kind of a mess.”

“Which Max claims you and her managed to pull into something cohesive.”

“People seemed to at least comprehend it,” Cam shrugged.

“Any other films?”

“Shorts at Groton.”

“Could you send them along with an application to USC?”

“Uhm, sure.”

“And I can email you possible student festivals.”

“Cool.”

“So Groton. Max goes to...”

“Exeter. We’ve only collaborated with those two workshop films, but she’s an amazing editor.”

“I agree.”

“Did she tell you about her art videos? They’re pretty out there but kind of amazing.”

“She did. I’m looking forward to seeing them.”

“You’ll enjoy them.”

“How was it working with Frances’s brother?”

“Harry? Honestly he helped with the other actors, and it’s almost like he reduced his presence in order to fit into the ensemble, fuck if I know how, but you can see it when he’s solo as compared to being with others.”

“He and that Indian girl...”

“Marisol? Yeah, they definitely have chemistry.”

“She definitely worked best with him.”

“Harry gives a lot I think, and he’s told me she’s a work in progress with great potential.”

“Frances told me about her brother being maybe the best actor she’s ever seen even as a high school student. She also said Marisol’s just starting acting. Considering that, she does have talent.”

“Yeah.”

“She kind of blew off the agent.”

“Her and Lizzy both.”

“Lizzy?”

“Elizabeth Peterson. She wrote the script with Harry and did that scene with Harry and Marisol earlier.”

“You mean the blonde bim...”

“Careful. Yes she’s blonde and beautiful, but...”

“My apologies. She wrote the script?”

“Mostly, working with Harry. The one act she wrote herself.”

“She in school?”

“St. Cloud State north of the Twin Cities.”

“She could be a model.”

“Except she’s not interested and we can both imagine what kind of modeling she’d be expected to do. She’s not tall and svelte.”

“USC has a very good screenwriting program.”

“I’ll let her know. Unfortunately she’s not rich as shit like I am.”

“There’s scholarships.”

“A full ride? I know USC is expensive. But I’ll let her know. I’m quite fond of her, so...”

“She seems quite fond of you too,” Helen chuckled.

He and Lizzy, watching close by, shared a smile.

“So, uhm,” he started with Helen.

She pulled a business card from her purse. “My email’s on there. Send me yours so I can send you information.”

“I will. Excuse me.”

The young couple, hand in hand, rushed out of the ballroom and to his room where both got naked as fast as possible, Cam making sure she was plenty wet with his tongue before pushing his long narrow cock into her depths. He managed to make her cum before he came, barely, and she soon had his soft penis get hard again in her mouth and rode it long enough for her to achieve a couple more orgasms before she shifted off him, ass high, to let him stroke into her at his heart’s content to get his.

“Keep going,” she moaned, fingering herself and just managing a final climax before he wilted completely.

They settled down, her body draped along his side, and shared soft kisses. “I want to stay until you have to go,” she said.

“Maybe through tomorrow evening. I have to pack.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” she smiled and kissed him again. “So what did you and that lady talk about?”

“She’s some kind of scout for USC film school. She wants me to apply.”

“Cool.”

“Maybe you too?”

“It’s expensive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But she said they have a decent writers’ program. You want to look at it? I need to email my address anyway.”

“Sure.”

He brought his laptop to bed, sitting behind Lizzy, his long arms and longer torso enabling him to work with her in front of him and see what he was doing.

“You have everything under one folder?” she asked.

“I’ll probably just send that to her,” Cam confirmed.

“I certainly don’t have that kind of portfolio, just poems mostly. The Marisol/PI thing is mostly Harry.”

“I bet he’ll let you collaborate.”

“But that’s just it, a collaboration.”

“Then create something of your own.”

“I like the bus bench one act, and Harry’d encourage it with him and Marisol starring.”

“And you too.”

“Yeah. I like working with Harry. He even makes me feel like I can actually act. Does he make you jealous?”

“Maybe?”

“Don’t. I’m not comfortable with him that way, especially compared to you.”

“But you have sex with him?”

“In our way.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you want to know?”

“I’m jealous, but I’m also curious. He’s an older guy but doesn’t seem to lack companionship with women even younger than you.”

“Since it seems our relationship is coming to an end, I can tell you. I just hope you don’t kick me out of bed.”

“I know you’re much more than your physical beauty, but I can’t imagine any sane man would ever kick you out of bed.”

“We’ll see,” she smirked. “Harry’s very skilled with his tongue.”

“Better than me?”

“Sorry, Cam, but yes. For instance, though it hasn’t happened because I’m not comfortable with him fucking me, I imagine he’d tongue me even with his semen inside me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he always kisses me after I suck him off.”

“Really?” Cam grimaced.

“And he definitely doesn’t react like that,” Lizzy laughed. “It’s okay Cam. I like it, but there’s a lot of other things I like about you.”

“So if it’s not about tonguing you with sperm...”

“He takes his time. He knows how to stop just before I cum and then start up again. It really builds me up. And he makes me cum and keeps at it until I cum again, probably would keep at it for a third one if it didn’t become too intense.”

“But since he doesn’t fuck you...”

“I’m pretty sure he does that with all his women. I know he does with Chrissy.”

“Would you like me to...?”

“Not if it makes you uncomfortable. Maybe later if you’re willing to let me guide you.”

“Our communication is lacking.”

“You listened to me before about my ... kink I guess. But yeah, otherwise ... But I think it’s something most people struggle with. You haven’t kicked me out of bed yet, so maybe let’s get back to what we were talking about.”

“Sorry.”

“Creating a portfolio. I do like that bus bench play, but it’s like I’m not sure it has legs.”

“You said that bum used to be a director?”

“Maybe his delusions but maybe not. Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, letting that moment expand with the girls becoming part of his fantasy becoming a full-fledged western or something. Maybe like he once was a Clint Eastwood type, actor/director before things fall apart, and maybe it’d be like a psychodrama that actually depicts his downfall, but as a western. Things fall apart as a sheriff and maybe as a director too, like three levels of falling apart.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It does. Challenging. The one problem I see is that if this western within a Hollywood set within a bus stop was shit, making it the reason this bum’s career falls apart, the audience could well agree it’s shit.”

“But there’s been movies about notoriously shit directors.”

“About real shit directors with the audience amazed that they actually had the blind nerve to create that shit. That kind of delusion is entertaining to an audience I guess. But this mess of a man, broken because his career fell apart doesn’t have that self-delusional charm, it’s just a man in a business where you’re only as good as your last movie or the one you’re in that ends up falling apart along with this man’s psyche. Maybe star and director being the same thing breaks at the same time, the movie is about his breaking and becomes his breaking. It’s kind of a compelling subject, but whether it works or not...”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess. Just a first attempt, so if it fails, move on.”

“Sounds about right. Shall we look at USC?”

“Okay.”

Everything looked exciting except the cost.

“Your folks are rich at least,” Lizzy pointed out.

“Except they’ll not want to pay.”

“Wharton.”

“Yep.”

“Your brothers and sister?”

“All disappointments except my sister, and she’s a woman.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It is.”

“Both brothers?”

“My oldest brother lives on his entitlement, fucking off and fucking his way through life. He’s on his fourth wife, each younger than the last, and I’m sure he’s already fucking around on her. My middle brother is the opposite, a rabbi and scholar devoted to his wife and kids.”