Chapter 1

11:52 p.m., Boston, Mass, January 11, 2006

She clicked the cursor gently, immediately directing her computer to the site she'd been checking every night for the last week, the site that was impossible to resist — wwwScouriesFamilyEnterprisesInc. She stared for minutes at the picture that dominated the page, his smiling, welcoming face only drawing her in farther.

She clicked relentlessly through the tabs: Restaurants, Bars, Photography, Film, Video, Merchandise, Coming Events, News, and then finally Erotica.

It was boxed halfway down the page, a simple announcement that produced an ever widening smile as she read.

Bianca slowly stood when she was finished reading, letting the top of her pj's fall from her shoulders even as she rose. She pushed the bottoms quickly down her thighs as she moved towards the large, wall mounted mirror, stared for seconds at the smooth, milky white skin reflected in the dim light.

She cupped her full, firm teenage breasts in her soft hands, squeezed and caressed each of them before grabbing her fat nipples in her fingers and pulling them almost painfully. Stretching her moist tongue she licked each of the dark pink nubs until they were aching with her need.

She thought of the two men who'd soon possess her as her hand lightly moved down and over her curly, thick red pubic patch. Thought of her virgin blood coating the smiling mans thick cock when he'd finally pushed through her stretched, then broken hymen.

Then, as her finger first uncovered, and then urgently manipulated her throbbing clit, she felt the first tremor of her orgasm spiral upwards from her womb. Oh god, give me your baby, the eighteen year old groaned to herself as she felt her sticky juices oozing down her legs.

Miami/New York the same night

"Daddy," I yelled down the line when he finally picked up.

"You don't have to shout, I'm not deaf yet," Dad groused.

"Musta been a great cruise Daddy... you sound like you're back to you're normal friendly self," I laughed. My father, Roderick Scouries, was just back from a ten day New Years Panama Canal cruise and sounding as crusty and testy as ever. I'll wake him up, I thought, laughing to myself.

"What do you want at this hour anyway?"

"Feb 5th we begin shooting," I announced.

"Huh? Shooting what?" he asked but I'd heard the momentary excitement in his voice echo down the line.

"Part 2... the sequel."

"Part 2," he stalled. Pretending he didn't understand.

"You're going to have to get into the gym, lose that gut... maybe dye your hair..." I said, knowing how to rouse the old warhorse.

"I'm as good as ever," he boasted... "Are you talking about that film we made last year," he finally asked.

"Yup." As if he didn't know.

"I never got a cent from the first one," he complained.

"Bullshit. Change the vowel and you were buried in them," I joked back.

"You're serious? You're going to make another one?"

"Put up the casting call on the site today. The little sweeties will be flooding me with CV's starting tomorrow."

"You've written the script?... is there a part for me?"

"You're the star Daddy," I promised. "And I want you down here for the screen tests by the end of the month."

"I'm not sure I can get away," he hesitated.

"I've already booked your flight. Check your e-mail."

"But Jimmy."

"Gotta go Dad. Luv ya. Talk to you soon," I finished. Then laughed to myself thinking how tough it'd been last year... remembering my brothers surprise... my father's resistance...

A Year Earlier, January 2005, Fort Lauderdale

"You're making a movie?" my brother Bobby had asked me across his wide mahogany desk. "Are ya nuts? You don't know fuck all about making a movie."

"And didn't I study film at NYU?"

"Ya, like twenty years ago."

"Bobby, I'm only thirty-five fuckin years old."

We argued back and forth for a few minutes, more the old brother bullshit game, who's smarter, who can run faster, who's got the bigger dick, the old game we'd always played with each other.

Bobby, at thirty, five years younger than I, had just opened his own law office in Broward County, a rookie setting out after graduating from Columbia Law and then spending five years at a firm of entertainment lawyers in Miami.

I was financing his startup. And now I announced I was going to make him Vice President, Legal, and Assistant Executive Producer for my first film.

"A PORN FLIC?" he screeched when I'd told him the subject of the film.

We argued some more before I broke in and asked "How's pop anyway?"

"Good... okay... he missed you at Christmas."

"He's getting along all right?" I probed further. Mom had died eighteen months earlier and both Bobby and I were concerned about him, Pops, single and retired for the first time in forty years.

"I don't know," Bobby finally admitted. "He still misses mom, and he's still pissed off those bastards at the railroad early retired him."

"Is he getting any?"

"Shit Jimmy, moms just,"

"She died a year and a half ago," I interrupted.

"He's pretty old."

"What? He doesn't get hard-ons anymore?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Do guys in their sixties still do it?"

"Christ Bobby, wake up. I'm going to get him down here, get him laid. I've got some ideas."

"Oh shit," he said resignedly.

"The little topless girls on South Beach, naked Haulover pussy," I started.

"Christ, you're not going to take him to the nude beach? He'll have a fuckin fit."

"You know Bobby; maybe I could put him in the movie?" I mused, "Yes, that's a great idea little brother. Rugged senior citizen runs amok in Miami, plows through oodles of hot, young Latinas. Something like that anyway. I mean Bobby, who watches these flics? I think a lot of these old guys might like seeing one of their own get lucky."

"Jimmy, you are so out to lunch. Christ you're thinking of putting your own dad in a porn film. He'll kick your ass all the way to Key West."

"I'm going to be in it too."

"You're what? What have you been smoking?"

"I'll bet you I can get him in it," I said smugly.

"In your dreams Jimmy. A thousand bucks says you can't... shit I'll even give you two to one."

"Five grand," I quickly countered. "But if I win you've got to be in the film too."

I was shaking his hand sealing our deal before he knew what hit him.

"Maybe that bimbo yoga broad you're dating might like to be in it too," I said grinning as I stood up to go.

"Melissa's my fiancée you asshole," he yelled at my departing back.

Two weeks later after Bobby's and my talk, Daddy flew into Miami International on a warm Monday morning. When I'd broached the idea of his spending ten weeks in South Florida with his son he'd been a surprisingly easy sell, probably mainly due to the nor'easter that had deposited twenty-one inches of the white stuff the night before I called.

Watching him walk toward me across the terminal I couldn't help but smile, the love I'd always felt for him almost bursting through my chest.

Everyone always said we looked the same, that I was a chip off the old block. But Daddy had a toughness, a hardness of body and mind that I knew I'd never match. Brought up around his fathers fishing boat on the coast of Maine, he still had the ropy, working man's musculature on his wiry, six foot one inch body that ten thousand hours in the gym couldn't replicate. Even at sixty-three he was a man you'd be a fool to cross.

I pulled him into my arms and hugged him when we finally met, gave him a kiss on his cheek in welcome that his stern Yankee upbringing always found hard to accept.

"Okay, okay," he mumbled in embarrassment as he pulled away from me. "We don't have to cause a scene," he further complained even though I could read his happiness at seeing me.

"I've given you the best room in the house," I told him as I led him into the corner bedroom from whose balconies you could see both the beach to the east and the distant Miami skyline to the west.

Located between Collins and Washington streets, the building, which I'd bought five years earlier with some of the proceeds of the windfall gains I'd made when my partner and I had sold our internet photo company to 'Google' six years earlier, housed both my living quarters and my various companies.

Six stories tall, the solid, rectangular cement building had an art deco motif that reflected the architectural grander of its neighbors. And the rents I'd been able to charge had skyrocketed as South Beach had continued to draw the rich and famous from around the globe.

The ground and second floor housed restaurants and boutiques, Armani Miami, Versace, Dior, Louis Vuitton and Ralph Lauren among others. I co-owned two of the bars and a bistro with a restaurateur pal from New York, trendy spots that were making money hand over fist. The third, fourth and fifth floors housed a local ad agency I'd opened after moving to Miami, my photo studio, and a film production company. I lived on the top floor.

It was my film production company; a company originally set up as an adjunct to the photo business and had then grown a division that produced commercials, that was going to make the porn flic.

"You still get horny Dad?" I asked him the next day as the two of us watched three nubile, topless teens splashing in the surf twenty feet in front of our beach chairs.

"What kinda question is that to ask your Dad?" he replied, a blush spreading across his rugged face.

"You and I, we've never have really talked about... you know... women, sex..."

"I think that's all you think of," he accused, "It's time you and Bobby settled down and started raising families. I'd like to see a grandchild some day," he groused.

"Bobby's got Melissa," I said with a broad smile on my lips, referring to the yoga expert from Boynton Beach.

"Christ," was all he managed to mutter, no more enamored of the lady than I.

"So, you're finished with sex then?"

"What, are you crazy? Of course I'm still interested... it's just"

"Have you done it? I mean since ma..."

"That's my business," he answered as his face closed up as tight as a drum.

"Yeah... I understand... it's just I thought maybe I could help you while you're down here... you know, set you up with some young sweeties."

"What? I look so broken down some kids got to get me laid?" he asked angrily.

"Of course not pop... forget it, forget it. When we get you over to the dance tomorrow night at the seniors home over on 9th Street I'm sure you'll be able to find..."

"Seniors fuckin home," he started to thunder.

"Shit pop, there has to be ten widows to every man over there, you'll have your pick."

"Fuck you Jimmy," he snorted, finally having realized I'd been kidding him.

"So, have you ever wanted to be in a movie?" I suddenly asked twenty minutes later as we exited dripping from the Gulf Stream warmed ocean.

"Yeah right, Rod Scouries, deep sea fisherman, ex-railroad brakeman and engineer, now matinee idol."

"I'm making a movie," then added, "no shit, I am pop," when I saw his look of disbelief.

"What, Mr. Dot-com millionaire's going to finance some Hollywood epic?" he sneered.

"The hell with you papa, I'll get someone else for the part. I was just feeling sorry for ya... I know you're really not young enough or good looking enough for the part," I said as I gave him a light punch on the arm.

"What? You're the goddam casting director too?"

"Yup."

"What kinda bullshit," he started before I cut him off.

"Producer, director, screen play author, casting director... star."

"You are so full of shit Jimmy."

"I'm serious."

"So? Tell me," he finally demanded.

"Screw you. Your not interested... c'mon, let's go get a beer," I offered as I bent to grab my towel and bag, and then started across the beach.

"But... hey, wait up," he finally yelled.

"A sex flick? Like porn?" Dad asked over his beer as we sat on the patio of the Clevelander on Ocean Drive. Seeing my nod he added, "My son's going to make and star in a fuckin skin flick? We slaved away to send you to NYU so you could..."

"Shut up pa."

"What's this flick about anyway? You've really written it?"

"It's up here pa," I said, tapping the side of my head with my finger.

"You're casting the film tomorrow and you don't have a script? I think you got this all ass backwards sonny boy," he said shaking his head.

"Ya seen a skin flic lately Dad?" I was surprised to see him blush and quickly added, "You old fart, you have been watching them."

"Like hell... it's just that old Wally had a whole shelf of them... sent me home with some when I was over a couple of months ago."

"So you've never looked at them?" I laughed.

"Well."

"So how hard do you think they are to write?" I asked with a confident smile.

Over dinner I fleshed out my ideas on my coming epic. "Listen pop, its going to go something like this," I started to explain. "Its about two young, handsome professional guys... living the good life on Miami Beach... sports cars, fancy condos, parties, pretty ladies everywhere..."

"Like you and Bobby... never settling down," he complained.

"So their old man comes down to visit, a rough old coot... you know, like you, starting to fall apart a bit," I said with a grin.

"Screw you."

"Anyway he wants to see them settled down a bit... get married... start families."

"So where's the sex Mr. Genius producer?"

"Well it builds up slowly daddy. We show both the boys with a couple of their dates... around the pool, in the Jacuzzi, in bed... hot scenes... and we've got the sexiest city in the world as background... the Asians will love it."

"The who?"

"We're aiming this product at the Far East pop... there's a huge market for this stuff over there... the Chinese, the Japanese, they love anything American... love seeing the beach, the sun, bikinis, naked white girls," I leered. "We'll sell em over the internet."

"You're nuts."

"You'll see," I promised. "Anyway, when the old guy gets to Miami, he starts moralizing to the boys. You know like you do. But what do you think happens when he keeps falling over naked twenty year old sweeties? What do you think happens when he comes upon his son's girlfriends tanning naked by the pool while the boys are at work? When a blond with the finest rack you've ever seen jumps into the shower with him?"

"What bullshit," he complains but I can see an awakening of excitement behind his eyes.

"That was the role I'd envisioned for you pop. Sorting out the girls for his sons. Test driving them so to speak, making sure the women who were going to bear his grandchildren were... well, you get my drift."

"God, you always were full of ideas Jimmy," he said shaking his head.

"You like it, don't you?" I laughed. "Now I didn't mean that you would have been expected to do all the work, I would have had a stand-in double for the sex scenes... they're pretty demanding,"

"What? Fucking a broad is demanding? For who?"

I didn't keep him up late that first night, in fact was hoping he'd spend the night dreaming of some of my made up scenarios, maybe rustle up a hard-on or two.

Dad for all his bluster wasn't going to refuse my invitation the next morning though. "We got over three hundred answers to our ad," I explained over breakfast. "We brought in about eighty of them last week, the ones who's CV's and pictures looked okay. Josie and Peter interviewed them last week, checked them out, we're going to see and screen test the ones they liked, sixteen of them today, the rest tomorrow."