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The California Trip Ch. 01

By: Amy Part y Girl



I got back to my apartment on Thursday afternoon at about 4:30, after my weekly two-hour child psychology seminar. I kicked off my shoes, leafed through the mail, and saw the red message light on my answering machine blinking. Two messages. First message: "Hi Amy, it's Janie. Wondered if you might like to go out for a bite this evening, say around 6:30? Give me a call back before five if you can make it. Thanks, bye." Second message: Nice male voice. Deep. "Hello, Amy. This is Robert Davis calling. We, uh, met two weeks ago, and while you may not have gotten my name, you left an indelible impression. If you have a few minutes, there is something I'd like to discuss with you at your convenience. My number is 555-4556. Please give me a call. Hope to talk to you soon. Bye"

I wondered what this could be all about. I was sure the "indelible impression" was from the "party" at the theater-in-the-round two weeks earlier, where Janie and I had indulged ourselves in a session in which I had basically fulfilled every fantasy I had ever had in a period of about three hours! I had kind of expected a guy or two, no doubt hoping for a one-on-one encore, to call, but so far no one had – somewhat surprisingly I have to admit. Janie and I had lunch together about a week later, but I hadn't seen her either since then.

OK, Robert Davis, let's see what you're all about. I dialed. One ring, two rings, three r... "Hello, Bob Davis. Same nice deep voice. "Hello, Mr. Davis, this is Amy returning your call."

"Amy, good of you to get back to me, I appreciate it. Amy, I've been here in town for just over two weeks now, and I'm flying back to California early tomorrow morning. I know it's really short notice, but if you have a little time free this evening, I'd like to buy you dinner and discuss something I think you will find intriguing. You pick the restaurant; I can pick you up at 7. I'll have you back by 9, I promise."

"Mr. Davis, the invitation is really very generous, but honestly, I don't know who you are or anything about you, how can I go out to dinner with you, just like that?" 

"We met at the theater-in-the-round a couple of weeks ago. I think you'll know me when you see me. If it'll make you more comfortable, you can come to the restaurant on your own and I'll meet you there. And, Amy, there's no need to be formal, please call me Bob."

So he had seen me "perform." I swallowed a couple of times. I may even have blushed a little. Oh well, wasn't some interest inevitable after all? Let him buy me a prime steak.

"All right, Mr. Davis, the "Chez Angus" steak house is over on Fifth, three blocks from the west end of the campus. I will meet you there at 7. But just so there is no misunderstanding, this is just for dinner, I'm serious.

OK, Amy, I understand. The "Chez Angus" at seven it is. I'll be wearing black pants and a black turtle neck. I'll get us a reservation and I'll be there a few minutes early. See you later.

Now I really was curious. Oh well, I was on a tight student's budget, and if nothing else I would have a terrific meal I couldn't afford on my own. I had purposely chosen the most expensive restaurant I knew in the area.

I called Janie and told her about the invite. "Sounds interesting," she said, definitely go – we can have dinner another night, but call me after you get back this evening. I'm curious. "OK," I said, "I'll call you sometime between 9:30 and 10. If you don't hear from me by 10, send out the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

It was 5:15. I stripped and got into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful. I washed my hair and shaved. I savored the appearance of my shaved slit, although I had been its sole admirer since the party. I liked feeling so sexy underneath, while at the same my outward demeanor could remain as prim as I chose. What would Robert Davis know?

I put on a tiny see-through thong and see-through bra, but under a white blouse and black slacks. No micro-miniskirt tonight; modest black pumps. A bit of blue eye shadow, not overdone, small gold earrings. Just like a job interview.

I left for the restaurant at 6:45. I drove a five-year-old Toyota Camry, bought it used with 78,000 miles on it, but it was reliable as always, and I was in front of "Chez Angus" in less than ten minutes. I found a space half a block away on the street; they had valet, but it was a splurge for me. The restaurant was dark, clubby masculine, with hunting pictures of foxes and hounds on the walls, and booths with Chesterfield style benches. There was a background drone of busy conversation and the occasional clinking of glass that conjured up the image of perhaps serious business being conducted here. I stopped at the maitre d's stand and asked if there was a Robert Davis here. "Ah yes, ma'am, right this way please."

He was sitting at a window-side booth. He stood up to greet me, took my hand. "Hello, Amy, Bob Davis. Very good of you to come. It's nice to see you again. Please sit down." He was tall, strawberry hair, athletic build, about 6 feet, twinkling eyes, very nice looking. I guessed about 31 or 32 years old. He looked kind of vaguely familiar.

We ordered drinks, he had Kettle One on the rocks, I asked for Harvey's. "So," I said, looking him in the eye, "what is it that you were so sure I would find intriguing?"

"Amy," he began, "I'm going to be right up front with you." Believe it or not, I am a businessman and I am here this evening strictly as a businessman. Actually, I've been in California on business for the past week and a half and just came back here again the day before yesterday, or I would have called you sooner. I'm an alumnus here, and my younger brother is a senior here now. He plays football here just like I did a few years back. Two weeks ago I was invited to a team party at the theater-in-the-round." Our eyes caught each other's. "Believe me, I've seen a lot, but you and your friend Janie were, uh, well, let's put it this way, my area of expertise is identifying talent." 

So he had seen everything. I felt buck naked. My face flushed. And something else was dawning on me. "Mr. Davis, uh, Bob, "what you saw, uh, what Janie and I..., it was a new experience for me, I've never done anything like that before. It was just kind of a spur-of-the-moment, catch lightning in a bottle kind of thing." 

"That's exactly what was so special about it, Amy – the spontaneity, the raw energy, the abandon, it was unbelievable."

"Gee, maybe I could bottle it, and sell it," I kidded, "I could probably I make a lot of money."

He gazed at me with just a very slight smile – a serious one. "Amy," he said, I told you I was a businessman. That's exactly what I do. I bottle it. And yes, you can a make a lot of money.

Our drinks came, and the waiter took our dinner order. Suddenly I was ravenous. I ordered the jumbo shrimp cocktail and a New York strip, medium rare. He went for crab Louis and the filet, rare, with Béarnaise sauce. A side order of creamed spinach to share. We both passed on the potato.

We sipped our drinks. I tried to fathom what I had just heard. "Let me get this straight, Bob, you film sex and sell it, right?"

"Amy, I'm half-owner of a film studio in the San Fernando Valley, north of L.A. And yes, we produce x-rated films. We do all kinds, but our specialty is gangbangs. We're known in the industry as the number one producer of top rated gangbang movies. Adult films are a multi-billion, that's billion with a "b," dollar industry in just this country alone. It's extremely lucrative. And you have a real talent, and please don't be embarrassed by my saying so. What I saw you do the other night, it takes other girls months and even years to work up to. A girl might start with just one-on-one sex; some won't do anal at all, or need a lot of coaxing just to even try it. Not too many years ago DP's were almost unheard-of, but now they're pretty much expected. If you are shy about having guys cum in your mouth, forget it, you're a non-starter. But gang-bangs are the crowning achievement. They've become kind of a status symbol. One girl actually fucked over 600 guys in one session; she currently holds the record. A lot of girls audition for gangbangs, but only a few get to do them. Some don't have the body or the face; most just lack the right attitude. Anybody can fuck, but it's the sexual energy that counts. The reckless abandon and total inhibition. If a girl feels any reluctance at all, the camera will pick it right up and you're done before you begin."

I felt giddy. "You want me to be in a movie? To have sex with a bunch of guys in a movie? You've got to be kidding; I'm a grad student, I've got no acting experience, and I only let myself go that one time."

"Amy, most girls who work for us have little or no acting experience. Oh, many come to L.A. hoping to be actresses, but they have no real talent and wind up doing sex just to be working. But a few aspire to be adult stars, and they bring an entirely different attitude. They want to do it, they love to do it, and it comes through on screen – and that's what sells. The attitude. You can't learn that; it comes from within. You've got the attitude; all you have to do is let it flow, and you won't have to worry about "acting." In fact the whole point is that you wouldn't be acting."

I couldn't believe this. Me? Fucking who knew how many guys in a movie? I was starting to get wet just thinking about it. "Bob, I'm flattered, really I am, but this is a whole lot to digest. I'm not saying yes or no, but I am curious. Just how much money are you talking about anyway?"

The waiter arrived with our appetizers and temporarily interrupted the discussion. I dipped a large shrimp into cocktail sauce and looked Bob in the eye as I first sucked on the shrimp a little and then took an overtly sexy bite with my teeth bared, and a wink. He gave a little laugh and dug into the succulent crab. We chewed for a bit. The food was delicious. Bob said, "You asked about money. After what I saw you do, if you could come even close to that for us on film, I would be prepared to offer you $50,000. $25,000 guaranteed up front, the other half when the film is in the can. That's unheard of for a first-timer, but I think you're worth it. I'm going to use some frank language. Do you think you could fuck a dozen guys or more in front of cameras and lights and not lose the spontaneity? It's not easy to do that. Sometimes a camera can be just a foot away. Can you take half a dozen simultaneous spurts on your face and swish cum around in your mouth with a camera a foot away? Camera awareness can spoil the entire effect."

I thought for a moment. The money would pay for two years of grad school. "Bob, I'm having a hard time even imagining being in a movie, never mind fucking in a movie. I've got my grad student life. I'm happy. The money sounds great, but what about my life? What about my privacy? Say the film was actually successful, wouldn't people recognize me everywhere?"

"Believe it or not, Amy, that's not really a problem. A lot of girls are hungry for the publicity, revel in it even. Being an adult star is still being a star, after all. But it doesn't have to be that way. We do this all the time. First off, you don't use your real name. You pick an anagram like May, or Mia, or make one up entirely. Girls often choose names that are erotically suggestive like Destiny, Felicity, or Fantasia. Or you can choose any name at all like Barbie, or Suzie, or whatever. You can use just a first name, or make up a last name too if you choose. Then we dye your hair, or you can wear a different colored wig from wardrobe, we change your eye color with soft contact lenses, and make-up can really change your face too. Believe me, if you don't want to be recognized, you won't be recognized." Not even the people on the set will know who you really are.

I soaked in everything he was saying, and it was even starting to make a little sense. $50,000 was a ton of money – it would make life a lot easier. And I was pretty sure I could do this, after all I'd already done it once. The thought of being fucked in front of a camera made it just that much more titillating. And what he said about attitude made perfect sense to me. "Amy, he said as if on cue, "you don't have to make up your mind now, I wouldn't even expect you to. Just give it some thought. If you decide no, that's fine. What I've offered you would be quite an adventure for most anyone. Whatever you decide, I'll understand." 

The steaks came. We both cut into the juicy meat. It was scrumptious. We savored the feast and gorged for a couple of minutes. I asked him, "Did you like my friend Janie?"

He looked up with a mouthful of tenderloin. "Yes," he said, "very much. You two make a terrific pair, but for just right now I'm asking you to think about yourself."

We finished the steaks over small talk, letting the main subject rest for awhile. We passed on dessert, and each had a cappuccino. Then it was time to get back. "Can I give you a lift" he asked.

"No thanks, I've got my car. Thanks a lot for your interest in me; seriously, I really am flattered. And thanks for a really delicious dinner."

"Will you think about it?"

"Yes, Bob, I will. I can't say yes right now, but I'm not saying no either.

"I'd like to fly you out to L.A., all expenses paid of course, and have you visit the set, watch a film being shot. It might help you decide."

"Oh, hey, that would be fun – I'd really like that, but I've got school now, and exams coming up in three weeks. How would winter break be? That's a month from now.

"Sure, Amy, not a problem. I'll be in touch. Here's my card if you want to contact me in the meanwhile, and here's our website where you can see some of our work."

I had to ask him something else that had been gnawing at me all evening. "Bob, I've got to ask you, two weeks ago, at that party, did you, I mean, uh, did we..."

He smiled. "Yes Amy, we did. Twice. Once in the ass. I came in you both times. I even got to watch my cum seep out of you and drip into your girlfriend's mouth. It was the horniest thing I've ever experienced, and like I said, I've seen a lot."

I could visualize him watching the cum trickling out of my holes. I smiled, somewhat wistfully, and gave a little nod. "I thought I recognized you." I moved close to him and gave him a little kiss on the lips, and at the same time I gave him just a tiny little squeeze down below. I knew he would be rock hard. "Winter break," I said.

I got home just after 9:30. My pussy was still wet from imagining myself in fuck movies. Wouldn't yours be? I had had a fleeting thought of asking Bob back to the apartment, but it would have been all wrong, and it actually felt even more erotic to prolong indefinitely the obvious sexual tension between us. But, boy, I really needed some release now. I threw off everything except the tiny thong and couldn't get my toy out fast enough. This one is a blue, ribbed dildo, an inch and a half in diameter and nine inches long. My cunt already had all the lubrication it needed. I pushed it in slowly, thong pushed aside, then began to work it in and out with my legs spread wide, first slow, then fast, then slow again, just grazing my clit now and then; I'm real good at this. I started breathing harder and harder, faster and faster I fucked myself with that plastic cock, until I could hardly stand it, and then, unnnnnhh, ooooooooohhh, I cried out. I kept going with two fingers on my slippery clit and came again in about ten seconds. I fleetingly wondered what Bob was doing about now.

Then I remembered I had promised to call Janie. She picked up on the second ring. "Hey, how'd it go," she asked.

"Janie, I hardly know where to begin. This guy, Bob, he was very nice. He's from California. He makes movies – fuck movies, Janie. It was so weird; he was at our party, and I actually found out over cappuccino that I've already fucked him twice! Can you believe it? But really, he was very businesslike; he wants me to be in a gangbang movie. He offered me a lot of money. I'm flattered, but it's crazy. I probably should just shrug this off, but I'm actually thinking about it. Seriously thinking about it, Janie. Am I nuts?"

"Amy, I've got a little secret. I promised not to say anything to you before you two had had a chance to meet, but Bob met me over dinner too. Yesterday evening. He knew we'd discuss this, in fact he hoped we would, because I'm pretty sure he'd like us to star in a movie together. He just didn't want to pressure either of us. What did you tell him?"

So he'd already seen Janie. I couldn't say I was really surprised. "I said I wasn't ready to say yes or no. He invited me to come out to L.A., all expenses paid, to watch a film being made. He said it might help me make up my mind. The visit really sounds like fun, and I'd like to take him up on it. I suggested winter break and he agreed. What did you tell him?"

"I didn't commit myself either. But he did mention a visit to me too, and, you know, I think we should go. Together. Winter break would be perfect. It'll be cold here, and California will be a nice little vacation anyway. What's to lose?"

"OK, let's go then. Let's wait a week or so to get back to him, just so we don't seem too anxious. How much money did he offer you, Janie?"

"Fifty thousand dollars. Half in advance, the other half after a successful shooting." How about you?"

"Exactly the same. It's awfully tempting, I have to admit." But let's sleep on this for a bit. I'll bet the offer isn't going anywhere. Janie, when's your period in December?"

"Not till Christmas week."

"I'm a few days before, so we're OK there, just in case.



The California Trip Ch. 01



It was a midday, weekend, out-of-season flight, and first class was nearly empty. Janie got up and went to the unoccupied lavatory up near the cockpit. A few minutes later, I went up, gave one knock on the door, Janie opened, and I went in. No one paid the slightest attention. We were both a little lightheaded from the champagne and the red wine. First we hugged, then we kissed, playfully, our tongues lovingly flicking each other. Janie then turned me around and caressed both by breasts from behind. She hiked up my skirt and reached around front and rubbed my pussy with her whole hand, running her middle finger over and over the slit. I got moist almost right away. I undid her zipper and peeled off her skirt. She took of her top and pulled her little bra down so her breasts protruded above it. Her nipples were dark and erect. I kissed both of them. Then I sat down and let her straddle me. I pulled her thong to one side and flicked her clit with my tongue. I started to fuck her with my tongue while she gave these little gasps and started breathing harder and harder. I slid my tongue slid over her clit gently, then pressed hard, and every once in a while I buried my face completely in her sopping pussy, sticking my tongue deep inside her before flicking and lapping her clit again. I really wanted to sixty-nine, but the cubicle was too damn cramped. We switched places so Janie could eat me out while I reached down and furiously finger-fucked her. We both came, almost together, and then I had her straddle me again and tongue-fucked her some more until she came a second time. All this had taken, maybe, all of five minutes. We both straightened our clothes and Janie went primly back to her seat like nothing at all had happened. Conveniently, no one was waiting to use the lav. I let two minutes pass, then, very matter-of-factly, I opened the door and slipped back into my own seat. No one noticed a thing. God, I was exhilarated.

We arrived at LAX fifteen minutes early. At the exit to baggage claim, we didn't see Bob Davis, but there were a number of people holding up name placards, and sure enough there was Janie's name. The guy, with a name tag that read "Julio," wore a white shirt and black slacks and seemed to go out of his way to be overly courteous. He spoke with a Spanish accent, but his English was perfect. He helped us with our bags out to the curbside, and told us he would be back in a few minutes to pick us up. No more than five minutes later a white limo pulled up, and there was Julio.

I had ridden in a limo exactly once, to my high school senior prom. This was extra, unexpected fun. We stretched out, kicked off our shoes, and took stock. A long, plush, L-shaped sofa. A 19 inch TV, and a DVD player and a collection of discs, a stereo system, a pretty well stocked bar and a small refrigerator, and a selection of munchies. There was an opaque separator between the driver's and passenger's compartments, so presumably we had complete privacy, but I wasn't 100% sure. The windows were darkly tinted. We could have had our sixty-nine now, I realized, but...I noticed an intercom button. I pressed it. "Yes?" said Julio.

"Julio, about how long a drive is it to where we're going?"

"Just under an hour, unless there is bad traffic, which there shouldn't be in the middle of a Saturday, but you never know.

"Thanks, Julio."

We opened the fridge and found several splits of iced champagne and some chilled flute glasses. We opened a split and toasted. I thumbed through the DVD's. A collection of "Triple X Productions" features, notably "Gangbang Cheerleaders Volumes 1 and 2," "Gangbang Strippers Volume 1," and Gangbang First-timers, volumes 1 and 2." I chose "Gangbang Cheerleaders, volume 2," and slipped it into the DVD player. The back of the dust cover had numerous pictures of two pretty blonde girls with cocks in every orifice, and cum-splattered faces. We drank champagne. There were some credits with glitzy computer graphics, and a menu. I clicked the remote on "play movie." A locker room full of, what else? Football players. The two blondes are led in by one player – uniform number 7, no doubt supposed to be the quarterback, naturally. Green and white cheerleading outfits, pompoms, halter tops, bare midriffs, little pleated skirts, no panties. A lot of guys, mixed races, all well-built. Someone kisses one of the girls. Another guy puts a hand between her legs. A cock in her mouth. A cock in her friend's mouth. A cock in one pussy, now both pussies. The halter tops disappear, the skirts are gone, both girls suck and slurp and are fucked hard from behind. Fast forward slightly. Everyone is now in the shower room. The girls are wet and shiny and it looks like they have had oil rubbed on them. One girl is held by a six-foot guy; he's standing, she's got her arms around him, and his cock is way up her cunt, while another guy has his rod up her ass. A third dick fucks her mouth. Camera shift, the other blonde also has three cocks in her. They're all in the shower. More fast forward. The cumshots start. One girl gets a load in her mouth; the other has her face splattered. One girl pulls a cock out of her friend's ass, sucks on furiously it until it cums in her mouth.

Without even realizing it, I'm fingering myself. Now I'm fingering Janie. We strip each other – we can't do it fast enough. Her shaved slit is so absolutely beautiful. I lie down on the plush limo sofa. I spread my legs wide. Janie is on me in a millisecond – her face in my crotch, her pussy in my face. We grind. I fuck her face, she fucks mine. Our tongues are like little slippery cocks, going in and out, in and out. I glance at the screen. Two more spurts streak the first blonde's face. Cum dribbles out of her mouth. Janie's entire face is buried in my pussy; she's making wet muffled sounds. I massage her clit hard with my tongue, she gasps and cums – a scream – I'm sure Julio can hear, oh who cares? Janie shakes her head from side to side, her mouth and nose buried in me. It's building, it's building, and, oooooohhhh the release is explosive. She keeps going, I thrash, she muffles, I arch, oooohhhh, ooooooohhh, oooooooooohhhhhh Goddddd.

The girls on the DVD are still being cummed on, cummed in, whatever. But they look at the camera too much. Too self-conscious. And they frown during several of the cum shots. like they don't like it. The few smiles are forced. They don't look happy. I remembered what Bob Davis said about 'attitude." I know Janie and I were way better at the theater-in-the-round. What would cameras be like? Would cameras really make a difference?

We put our underwear back on and dressed and straightened up. I put the DVD away, I got the general idea. I hit the intercom. "How much further, Julio?"

"We'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

We pulled up in front of a new-looking hotel, columns, lush landscaping. Julio took our bags, we bypassed the desk – we were already registered – and took the elevator to the second floor, and down the hall to the end. Suite. Plush. Sitting room, big screen plasma TV, kitchenette, wine cooler, French doors to the bedroom, two queen beds, Roman bathroom with whirlpool, walk in tiled shower with surround nozzles. Not like any hotel room I had ever stayed in. An elaborate arrangement of fragrant fresh flowers on the coffee table. 

Janie said, "Thanks a lot, Julio, what happens now?" "Mr. Davis will be calling you soon – he's on set today, but he should be done by about four."

Julio left us. There was a note next to the flowers. It said, "Welcome to California," signed "Bob D." I checked the wine cooler; it was filled with assorted vintages. Janie opened the refrigerator – there were three cold bottles of Vouve Cliquot. I could see we weren't being taken for granted – not by a long shot.

The phone rang. I picked up. "Hello, this is Bob, this must be..." "Amy," I said. "Well, greetings, Amy. I trust you guys had a nice flight and drive out here, and I'm sorry I got tied up, but I'm sure Julio treated you well – he's my number one right hand man."

I put the phone on speaker so Janie could hear too. "We had a good trip, Bob, it's nice to be somewhere warm, and thanks for these accommodations; they're really very nice." 

"A pleasure, Amy, I'm sure." Listen, you have the afternoon free around the hotel –there's a beautiful pool, a health club, and you can even get a massage if you want – just sign for anything you need. There's room service if you get hungry. I want you to be my guest for dinner tonight. This time I will pick you up. Tomorrow is Sunday, but we will be filming and you'll get a chance to see first hand what this is all about. I'll pick you up this evening at seven if that's OK, and everything is informal." I passed the receiver to Janie.

"Hello, Bob," Janie said, "It's Janie, thank you for the welcome. Seven will be fine, see you then. Bye"

We had the afternoon to relax. We unpacked, then changed into bikinis and went down to what turned out to be a really lovely pool area, with Greek revival architecture, fountains, lush vegetation, and sparkling blue water. I had brought three swimsuits, I chose a little red string number – my briefest - since I had no tan I had to start with the skimpiest one. Janie also wore a string – white with red polka dots. It didn't cover very much.

There were only a few people out by the pool, but no one was nearly as white as we were. We put number 15 lotion on each other, and settled down to read. I had an Axel Maryland novel. Being in psychology, I liked the main character and I liked the writing style. Janie had a walkman and a copy of Cosmo. We read for awhile.

We tried the pool, which was like a bathtub. I took a little nap. A poolside waiter brought us a couple of yummy frozen strawberry daiquiris. At four PM we left the pool and checked out the health club, where we both spent a half hour on elliptical machines. We went back up to the suite. Janie dozed. I got in the shower and luxuriated for ten minutes with all those nozzles caressing my body with the warm spray. I washed my hair, shaved everything smooth, and nestled into one of the two soft white terrycloth robes hanging behind the door.

I explored the suite. High definition TV, another DVD player. Sure enough, more Triple X Productions. "Gangbang at 30,000 feet," "Lip-smacking good," "Cum face-squatters." This time I decided to pass on the movies. I checked out the fridge, found, among other things, a jar of caviar. I checked the cabinets – found two boxes of cocktail crackers. Except for the daiquiris, we hadn't eaten in over six hours and I had the munchies. What the hell. I opened one of the bottles of champagne, and savored some caviar on a cracker. Janie appeared, what else, completely nude. I smiled and rolled my eyes. "You're incorrigible. Here, try some caviar." I poured her a glass of bubbly. We enjoyed our little happy hour, then Janie padded off to shower and shampoo.

We were all ready by ten to seven. I wore a short dark red skirt and a white clingy top with a little tailored blue denim jacket. Underneath I had a soft nude bra and nude thong. Janie wore tight, form-fitting black leather pants, and a long-sleeved sequined blue top. She actually put on no underwear at all. Nothing! I didn't say anything. This girl just looked plain terrific in anything, or nothing. We both wore three-inch heels, and our best perfume.

At precisely seven, there was a knock on the door, and there was Mr. Robert Davis himself. He wore black slacks, white turtleneck, and a gray blazer. He almost seemed like an old friend. "Hi ladies," he said, "Very nice to see you both again." He kissed Janie's hand, then mine. "I'm so glad you decided to come. I promise you will enjoy yourselves. Now, I hope you're hungry. Come, let's go get something good to eat."

He drove a white Mercedes 500S. Janie sat up front. I sat in the rear with enough leg room for an NBA center. We pulled up in front of an elegant looking place with no marquis, and the car was valet-parked. This turned out to be just about the best meal I had ever had in my life. We began with a seafood platter for the table, with lump crab, jumbo shrimp, rock lobster tails, and stone crab flown in fresh from Florida, with its own special spicy sauce. If there's anything better to eat in the whole world than stone crab, I sure don't know what it is. Then we all had steak au poivre, rare. Delectable. And so tender you could cut it with a fork. I didn't know meat like this even existed. If I ate like this regularly I'd balloon to a size fourteen!

"Tomorrow, ladies," Bob said, "I will pick you up bright and early at eight. Try to have breakfast first, because there really won't be much of an opportunity once we get to the studio. I won't tell you exactly what you're going to see, but I guarantee it will be a learning experience. We have a directional session before we start, which you can sit in on, where we go over with the actors what we are looking for, and what we expect them to do. They can ask any questions they want, or even make suggestions. It's not like other movies, because there are few if any lines to memorize, and any spoken lines are only to set the scene and really occur before the sex starts. That first part can be reshot if someone screws up, but once the fucking starts, there's no such thing as a dry run. It's a very wet run." He smiled. "At least we hope it is." In theory, if you got a bad result, you could bring everyone back the next day and start over from scratch, but it never works. The spontaneity is just not there anymore. More than once we've actually filmed an entire movie, and decided not to produce or distribute it because we just weren't happy with a girl's onscreen chemistry."

Janie asked, "If that happens, how do the actors get paid?"

"Good question, Janie. The headline girls, and a relatively few headline guys, have an arrangement like I offered you. They get paid half up front, so that's theirs anyway. They understand that if the thing utterly fails muster, and there's no distribution, they don't get the other half. That doesn't happen often, only with a real bomb. The extras, mainly guys who just have big cocks and can fuck a girl for a long time without cumming too quickly, get paid a daily scale, so there's no problem there. The girls are the stars. They're the ones who make it or break it. After all, all the guys do is fuck and cum. They can fuck as hard as you want and never have a problem with that. So, if there's not enough heat, how can you blame the guys?"

"How much of the action is ad-libbed?" I asked. "Well, Amy, the action itself is all ad-libbed, so to speak, because people are just going at it they way they know best, but we tell them the positions we want, where we want the cum to go, do NOT wipe the cum off your face, and so on. We tell the girls over and over that they have to be seen as enjoying every single second of having twelve or more guys fuck them in their pussy, their ass, their mouth, and having every hole filled over and over with cum. A successful girl has to like the taste of cum and has to be playful with it with her mouth. No grimaces, no frowns, no signs of self-consciousness. Showing pain is OK if it really hurts, and some girls find being fucked in the ass can be uncomfortable, but they usually fall by the wayside early on.. Showing pain can sometimes be sexy, but usually it isn't. Good riddance. The girls who do anal all the time have gotten real good at it and feel very comfortable with it. It's OK to blurt out spontaneous exclamations that come naturally under the circumstances, like 'oh I love that, fuck me harder, fuck me harder,' that sort of thing. Audiences like that.

"Can it get rough?" asked Janie. "Yeah, it gets rough, but "hard" is really a better word. The sex is hard. It's not "rough" in the sense that anyone is trying to hurt anyone. It's just that audiences like the sex to be rough, and, most importantly, they like the girls to like it rough. That's why it doesn't work if a girl acts like she's uncomfortable or not enjoying herself. That spoils the fantasy that people are paying to see. The audience loves a girl who just can't get enough, or give enough. Some early skin flicks tried to play to the female audience by showing people romantically making love. No one wastes their time with that anymore. It simply doesn't sell. People don't want to see lovemaking; it's fucking they want, and the wilder the better.

Everything he said seemed perfectly logical, even obvious if you thought about it. Know what your audience wants, and make sure you deliver. Pretty straight forward.

I said, "In the limo today we watched one of your DVD's. I think it was "Gangbang cheerleaders, volume 2." I noticed that at times the girls seemed self-conscious. They were too aware of the camera and it spoiled the effect."

"Amy, that's exactly why we chose those particular DVD's for the limo. Each one has certain flaws. You're very perceptive, and you're exactly right. In fact, we almost junked that particular film, for precisely the reasons you just cited. But after some deliberation we decided to keep it because the cumshots were so good we hated to waste them. Some of the high resolution still shots we got of those two girls with their faces bathed in cum were even better than the movie itself. We use them in magazines."

We finished dinner and he dropped us off at the hotel. "Good night," he said, "see you at eight." It was after 10 PM pacific time, which made it after 1 AM our time, and it had been a long day. We were both out like a light within minutes of plopping down.





The California Trip Ch. 01



"You incorporate the two desserts any way you want to enhance the sex. Make it good and messy. Then a third, fourth and fifth guy join the group. Everyone fucks the girl, a couple of DP's, then here's the cum routine: One guy comes in her mouth, and honey, I want your mouth closed around the cock when it cums, so you can dribble it out slowly for the audience, and two on her face, timed as close together as you can. And, guys, PLEASE, do not miss the face; I'll be really pissed if you do that. One guy comes in her ass. She reaches down, squeezes cum onto her hand and licks her palm. Honey, it's ok to look into the camera just this one time if it feels natural at the time. The fifth guy comes in her pussy. The camera shows the cum seeping out. She takes more custard, rubs it over her cunt so it mixes with the cum, and licks everything off her hand. We'll have three portable cameras, to shoot from different angles, an overhead, and a digital still camera as well. Any of the handhelds may come in very close. Don't let the flashes from the digital distract you. Guys, when you're about to cum, make it obvious so the cameras can be ready and trained just right."

"Jeff, here, is the chef. Stand up, Jeff."

We all turned to look at a nice-looking dark-haired guy.

"Rod, Willy, Greg, and Randy, you're the other four. Raise your hands please." 

Four guys raised their hands. The racial diversity that Bob had indicated audiences liked and expected was indeed duly evident, a standard, we would learn, in all of the studio's productions.

"You other people are the audience. Now, here's the interesting part. All of you girls are here today either to perform or to learn. Five of you think you will star today, but only one of you will. You won't know which one until the actual moment you are called out of the audience during the filming, exactly as if it were a real TV show. This is for spontaneity. Also, if you're the one chosen, you should be pumped up enough to show it in your performance. If you're not selected, hopefully the disappointment should make you even hungrier to star, and it will show in your next performance. If you're not chosen today, you will get another chance in a different segment very soon. If you're relegated to the audience, get into character right away as TV audience members – you're still part of the movie. Don't let me see the camera catch any disappointment on your face. Everybody got it? Barb, Sharon, Debbie, Meg, and Tammy, you're the five. Go with Jimmy here and get your outfits and your make up. You will all be prepared to star. The rest of you, get a cup of coffee, we'll meet back here at exactly 10 AM."

Janie and I passed on the coffee, and stepped outside by ourselves to enjoy the warm California sunshine. We felt comfortable keeping a low profile for the time being.

I said, "I got a kick out of where he's telling the girls it's, ho hum, OK to look into the camera when they lick cum off their hand after it's just dribbled out of their ass, 'if it feels natural.' If it feels natural? Is he kidding? As if that's ever natural!"

"Of course it's natural. Don't most girls do that every day?" We both chuckled. "But I like the idea of the suspense in not knowing." Janie said. "Can you imagine? Either you are about to get gang fucked by five guys, or nothing at all. How could you not let disappointment show? Everyone must have to go home and get laid within a half hour!" I chuckled. "Yeah, it is kind of clever. I never heard of that idea before, but I like it too. If you do get chosen, you have all that extra adrenaline going."

We were back in our seats by 9:55. At exactly ten everyone was back. A dozen or so older people, mostly women, had filled out the audience, and it now really looked like a genuine cooking show crowd. The five girls were all dressed in tight pants and different colored T-shirts, so they wouldn't all look the same when left to be part of the audience. All five had long hair. Jeff, the chef, came onto the set wearing a toque and an apron that said, "Chef Jeff." Three technicians, one woman, two slightly older men, shouldered hefty video cameras. There was a catwalk over the set with a fourth camera aimed straight down. A second young woman stood by with a digital still camera. Another tech manned a panel that controlled the spot lights and floods, which now bathed the set. George sat in a director's chair just off to the right side, so any camera panning on the audience wouldn't pick him up. The camera people all had these little ear phones so George could give them second-by-second instructions. They could move in as close as they had to, but had to be careful to stay out of each others way so they didn't spoil a shot by inadvertently becoming part of it. Since multiple cameras were used, at least one would usually capture the action cleanly, and there was always post-production editing anyway. We in the audience sat in a tight group, the intention being that when the camera showed us, the eventual DVD viewer would get the impression of a larger audience, only part of which was seen.

"Everybody ready?" yelled George, "OK cameras, and GO!"

Jeff greeted the audience, with a warm smile, and, I thought, with great aplomb for a mere bit actor. You'd never know he was up there to fuck a girl, and not to really make desserts. I had to give him credit, he had done his homework. He made a small show of breaking eggs, peeling and cutting bananas, mixing ingredients, talking all the while, put first the custard in the oven ostensibly to bake, then the cream pie in the refrigerator. After editing, all of this scene-setting would be allotted no more than three minutes, tops, onscreen. Adult DVD buyers weren't shelling out $29.95 to watch some dweeb explaining how to bake a pie.

"Good," yelled George, "nice job, Jeff, good and short and to the point. We can print that."

Whatever Jeff had just mixed up was replaced in the fridge by a real banana cream pie and a fully-baked and cooled custard, ready to eat - or whatever else...

"Ready to go now," hollered George. "Jeff, you're coming back from commercial. Girls, get your juices flowing. "OK, gang, let's get it going. Jeff, you're on. Ready, cameras roll, NOW."

"OK, folks, we're back," began Jeff. "We have identical desserts we made earlier this morning, and they're all ready to serve. I wonder if I could get one of you young ladies to come up here and give me a hand. Any volunteers?" 

Five eager hands shot up. All three cameras panned around to us in the audience from different angles.

"How about you?" said Jeff, pointing to Debbie, one of the two brunettes in the front row. I could literally feel the energy drain from the other girls, while Debbie tried hard not to overreact like she'd just been chosen Miss America and not first runner-up. How would you react? She was about to get her brains fucked out, while the other four girls would now only sit and watch.

The cameras followed Debbie, smiling, over to the kitchen table, where Jeff had placed the desserts. Was she nervous? Excited? I really couldn't tell.

"What's your name," asked Jeff.

"Debbie."

"Well, Debbie, thanks for coming up to help me serve. I'm going to ask you to first cut the pie, give it the old taste test, and then pass some out some to our wonderful audience." 

Debbie picked up a long knife and with a few strokes, cut the banana cream pie in half, then quarters, then eighths, then sixteenths. Whipped cream clung to the knife. She removed a slice to a plate and tasted a forkful.

"Ummm, delicious," she averred, "try some."

She swiped the pie with two fingers and offered them to Jeff to lick, but before he could, she smeared pie on his cheek. Exactly per the script, but it looked perfectly spontaneous. Jeff sucked whipped cream off Debbie's two fingers. Just slowly enough. I squirmed a little. Now Jeff stuck two fingers in the pie and rubbed them over Debbie's lips. Again, just slowly enough. I was starting to get damp just from the anticipation of what I knew was about to happen to Debbie. She closed her eyes and sucked his fingers. She undid the two top buttons of his shirt, stuck a hand into the custard, and pushed some down his front. Then she pressed his chest with her face so that custard welled up out of the shirt, and ran her tongue over the shirt, through the custard, up his neck, and over his lips. She rubbed his crotch with one hand. They kissed deeply. Jeff smeared custard into her T-shirt, over her breasts.

Two cameras panned the rapt audience. Debbie's top was off. Lovely round breasts, all natural, compact dark red nipples, maybe accented with make-up. Jeff rubbed custard and pie all over Debbie's breasts and kneaded her nipples. Now he pulled down her tight pants, leaving just a tiny red string thong that barely covered her slit and nothing else. Jeff grabbed another handful of custard and rubbed his whole palm between her legs, pressing hard while she grinded against his hand. Jeff stretched the thong into a thin line that disappeared between her labia and rubbed her clit up and down with it. Three slippery fingers worked her pussy. Custard ran down her thighs. All the time they kissed, while she gave these little gasps. Then she undid his fly, pulled out his throbbing cock, rubbed it up and down a few times with custard oozing out of her hand, and let him ram it into her mouth. He literally fucked her mouth, a couple of times all the way to the hilt. 

By this time, Willy, one of the two Afro guys, and at least 230 sculptured pounds, had made his way to the chef's table. Debbie stopped sucking Jeff's cock just long enough to kneel and get Willy's out, while Jeff stuck his dick in her pussy from behind. Willy was a very big man, in more ways than one. His cock must have been two inches in diameter and possibly ten inches long, fully erect. I guessed he was one of the "relatively few headline guys" Bob had mentioned. Debbie sucked while Jeff fucked her. One by one the three other guys appeared and managed to lose their clothes. Debbie could get her mouth around the end of Willy's huge dick, but she was having a hard time getting down on it too far because of its sheer size. Jeff pulled out, and Willy took his place. We all held our breath watching that enormous thing slide up into Debbie's cunt, and then Willy began to ram her with it. She shook and moaned with each deep thrust – so deep I could almost feel what she had to be feeling. I was really wet now. Debbie was being pounded so hard that she had trouble holding her head still long enough to get another cock into her mouth, so the guy helped her by holding her head on his dick while Willy fucked her nearly raw. 

The guys stopped just long enough to lift Debbie onto the kitchen table. Willy rubbed more cream pie all over her breasts and abdomen, while she lubed his cock with another handful of custard. She stuck her rear end up in the air for the camera while one of the guys smeared custard all over her pussy and ass, sticking fingers in both holes. All five guys surrounded the table. Debbie slathered them all with custard and pie, and sucked all five dicks in turn. Then one guy lay on the table while Debbie slowly lowered her asshole onto his pole. Big Willy was disqualified from this; Debbie was too small and he could have seriously injured her, no matter how unintentionally. I would have liked to see them try, but I understood. Her ass impaled on the custard-covered cock, Debbie leaned back while a second guy first lapped her cunt and then slid his cock in. A third guy fucked her mouth again. With three cocks in her, Debbie moaned and thrashed, and fucked and thrashed some more. Never once did she acknowledge the cameras, which moved in and out. The girl with the digital camera would sneak in every once in awhile to get a shot and the flash kept going off, but nothing distracted Debbie.

The guys took turns changing places, so that Debbie had three various cocks in her for a solid ten minutes of constant pounding. Finally Greg panted, "oh I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," and he pulled out of Debbie's ass, and jammed his cock into her mouth where he pumped twice and then held her head around his shaft while she remembered to keep her mouth closed around it, just like George had said. Greg stiffened and with a loud aaaaaarrrrh he came entirely in Debbie's closed mouth. As he pulled his dick out, coated with a mixture of semen and Debbie's saliva, she let cum dribble slowly out both sides of her mouth so it covered her lips and chin and three or four little streams ran down her neck. Next both Willy and Randy blasted her face from both sides at the same time– the big guy from the right with six or seven huge spurts – on her forehead, in her hair, up one nostril, on both cheeks, and one spurt right into her mouth. Big Willy didn't miss with any of them. From the left, Randy creamed Debbie's face with five long streaks, mixing with Willy's cum and almost obliterating her features as semen dripped and ran everywhere. Debbie didn't wipe away anything, although she did lick her lips which had all these thin sticky strings of cum stretched between them as she opened and closed her mouth gasping for breath. Cum sputtered out of her mouth as she panted. Everyone backed off for a moment so the girl with the digital camera could move in for the coveted close-ups of the semen in Debbie's mouth and of her completely cum-coated glistening face. 

Two guys now held Debbie's legs spread wide apart while Jeff fucked her again. At last he stiffened and came deep inside her pussy. She sat up at the edge of the table, legs spread for the audience, while Jeff's semen seeped out of her. Then she picked up a spare banana, peeled it, and pushed it all the way up her seeping cunt, pulled it back out and made a little show out of eating it bite by bite while we could see the cum dripping off it. A little cum still trickled out of her cunt too. The girl with the digital camera snapped away. Now Debbie knelt down, while Rod hovered over her from behind and shoved his cock straight down into her ass. After a minute of thrusting, he came in her ass. Quickly she leaned over the table, so the audience could watch Rod's cum dripping out of her stretched, gaping hole. Several times she stuck two fingers in and swiped out cum, and sucked her fingers clean One hand-held camera moved in close, and the girl with the digital camera snapped away furiously too. Finally she swiped herself with the palm of her hand and turned to the audience to lick her palm clean. Then she licked her lips, smiled, and winked once, hoping the camera would catch this little "thanks, and good bye."

We all applauded and cheered.

"Cut!" yelled George. "That's a keeper. People, that was phenomenal. Couldn't be better. Debbie, you were great. Let Margie get a few more still shots of your face, then go get cleaned up. That's it for today, everyone – you were so good we're done early." You girls who didn't get to do it today, we're going to try for two segments on Tuesday. At least two of you will get your chance then. 

Everyone drifted away. Janie and I exchanged notes. By and by Bob materialized next to us.

"Well, ladies, how'd you enjoy your intro to our industry? Not bad, eh?"

I answered first. "I had a great time. She was really good, really into it. I loved what she did with the banana. I think the suspense of not knowing who was going to be chosen drove her over the top. That was a cool idea. How old is she and how much experience does she have?"

"Debbie is 25, she's been in the business for about a year – she used to be a first grade teacher, but it paid so little. This will be, I think, her fourteenth film this year. She's well on her way to making a name for herself." She does all the things we talked about. Totally uninhibited, unfazed by the cameras, loves the pounding, loves cum, loves it all – and it shows. The banana thing was spontaneous – all her idea. We used her today partly because I wanted you guys to see one of our very best up-and-comers in action. You guys, with no film experience at all, were amazingly good for amateurs, but with movies there's no way to know for sure until the lights go on and the cameras actually roll. That's what auditions are for."

Janie said, "Auditions?"

"Of course, auditions. Did you ever hear of anyone getting a major part in any movie without an audition? In your case, you're by no means an unknown quantity, but there's still the cameras, lights, make-up, guys with really big cocks and lots of stamina and experience. Why do you ask, Janie? Have you decided you'd like to try this after all?" 

She never hesitated. "Yeah, Bob, I have. I want to give it a shot. It looks like a lot of fun, it's a challenge, and God knows I can use the money. Why not? Sure, let's go for it."





The California Trip Ch. 02



After lunch, we are back at Bob Davis's office in the studio building with a few minutes to spare. We really haven't had all that much time to relax over our food, considering the, shall we say, "busy," morning we've had, but honestly, food isn't number one on my interest list right now anyway. The door is locked. We knock, but no one answers, so we lean against the wall and wait.

We aren't there for more than a minute or two before Bob appears, accompanied by another man. I recognize him as one of the other four who had watched our auditions.

"Ladies, this is Ellis Inman, my co-partner in the studio. Ellis, Janie and Amy." 

We all shake hands. No problem using our real names; if we are going to be doing business, they'll be on the contract, and if not, well, we'll never be seeing him again anyway.

Bob ushers us into his office and we sit in comfortable matching leather chairs opposite his black acrylic desk, while Ellis Inman takes a seat to his right. I glance around. No secretary. Two medium-quality artificial green floor plants, lots of pictures of pretty models on the walls, bikinis, but no full nudity. A large picture window. Behind him is a credenza with a computer and some peripherals including a printer and a scanner. The desk is stark except for a black telephone. No pictures of any family that I can see. The furniture looks new and the room smells faintly of freshly milled wood.

"Ladies, I apologize if we've kept you in suspense, but we had a number of considerations we had to discuss. We've all had a chance to kick this around, and the consensus is that you two could quite possibly give us our biggest hit ever. Your kind of fire is just what we're always hoping for, but honestly we don't find it more than once in a blue moon. And on top of that, not only there are two of you with that special spark, but you're already friends. We're very excited. Usually it's the girls who beat down our door, but we'll take talent anywhere we can find it. We'd like to sign you to do the full-length movie we talked about."

Janie lets out a huge sigh; we both grin. We exchange high fives.

Almost in unison: "Thanks, Bob, thanks Mr. Inman!"

"Please, ladies, call me Ellis."

"Thanks, Ellis," I tell him, "you won't regret it. We are going to be good.

"I'm not betting against it," answers Ellis Inman.

"Well, then," Bob says, we'll set the ball in motion. Today is December 19th and you have to be back by January 5, which means you have to leave on the third or the fourth. You'll recall we had talked about doing your shoot next Monday, but I confess I forgot that was Christmas Eve. The day after New Year is a holiday, so we'll want to be all done before New Year's. The only potential problem I can see will be lining up enough of our regular "studs" to work during Christmas week. I don't think we can get all our ducks in a row before Christmas, and no one works the day after Christmas, so that leaves anytime between the 27th and the 30th. The 27th is a Thursday. If that's all right with you guys, I will get the early A.M. rental of the strip club changed to either the 27th or the 28th."

Ellis Inman chimes in, "We will have contracts ready for you to sign by tomorrow. You can have a couple of days to go over them. If you want to have them reviewed by an attorney, please feel free. We can recommend several who do this kind of contract review all the time, and they will be happy to supply references – many of our regular actors use them if and when their careers start to take off. But it's truly not necessary for you at this stage. Anyway, we'll need the contracts back within seventy-two hours, because if you guys decide to back out for any reason at all, we need enough advance notice before we unnecessarily waste a lot of peoples' time and effort. I'm sure you understand."

"Now, I have a little extra surprise for you. We liked your performances this morning so much, that we've also decided to use them, as segments in another composite film. And actually we can use a lot of the stills too. Of course, we will need your agreement to do that."

He passes us each a sealed envelope.

"Open those after you leave today. If you decide you're OK with releasing the footage from this morning, you can keep what's inside. By the way, 'Cassandra,'" he looks me in the eye, "nice little extra there, sucking off the cameraman."

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Bet you thought it was really original, right? Well, don't let it go to your head. Freddie's gotten at least two dozen blowjobs filming auditions, and even had a few girls sit on his face or fuck him. It's perk of the job. In fact, since that started to happen, he got so used to being on camera as well as behind it, that now he sometimes doubles as a member of the gangbang crew whenever we need another guy."

"Oh," I mumble, more than somewhat deflated.

Bob joins in. "You guys are on your own till tomorrow morning. We'll use the small sound stage to set up a pole for you to practice your onstage stripping, and we'll have some good music for it. Get a g-string, shoes, and whatever else you want from Grace, and be at soundstage B at 10 A.M. We'll have your contracts ready for you by tomorrow, too. You can pick them up at my office at noontime. Enjoy your afternoon."

I've got one other thing on my mind.

"Uh, Bob, there's just one little snafu. I'm due to start my period tomorrow; practicing stripping that way isn't going to be too cool, if you know what I mean." 

Bob strokes his chin. "I see," he says, "I should have thought of that. How about you, Janie, any problems in that regard?"

"Yeah, I should get mine about the 23rd," Janie replies, should be finished by the 27th.

"OK, well, no big problem really. Amy, just keep on whatever you have to, and save the bottomless for when your period's over. Janie, you can do the nude work tomorrow. You can watch and coach each other. Both of you should be OK to shoot by the 27th, but why don't we say the 28th just for good measure. That work for everyone?"

We both nod enthusiastically.

We decide to rent a car for the rest of our stay, which will give us more mobility and freedom of movement. From the beginning, except for that funky limo ride from the airport, I hadn't liked being dependent on Bob and the studio for transportation. We even find a rental company that will deliver a car to us right at the studio, and 45 minutes later we are out on our own in a white Mustang convertible. We decide to spend a couple of hours at a mall mostly browsing, then head back to the hotel for a little more pool time before dinner. As we're leaving the mall, it occurs to me that we have been so pre-occupied we've completely forgotten about the sealed envelops. Inside each envelope we find a cashier's check for twenty-five hundred dollars.

My period arrives as if on cue the next morning, but we are dutifully back at the studio by just after 9 A.M. We visit wardrobe again where Grace greets us cheerfully and gives us carte blanche. I get red leather hot pants and a filmy red bra, and Janie picks a black g-string with a side tie, and an almost-nothing strapless half-cup black see through bra, which is more for effect than for any support it can offer her. We both get a pair of clear Lucite platform shoes with six-inch heels. I will start off in a clingy red silk cover-up, and Janie chooses a black minidress with tiny spaghetti straps.

"One suggestion:" Grace ventures, "Of course you are welcome to use anything in our wardrobe department, and everything is antiseptic clean, believe me, but most of the girls have a few favorite personal items that they own and like to wear, especially g-strings which, after all, are kind of extra personal. You may want to do a little shopping while you're out here." Her point is well-taken and we both nod thoughtfully.

When we arrive at the soundstage, we get a big surprise. There, waiting for us in a purple warm-up suit is Natasha, the lithe blonde I recognize right away from the Wild Kitty Club. There's no one else on the set that I can see; we seem to have the place entirely to ourselves.

"Mr. Bob Davis ask me to share dancing pointers with you," says Natasha in her heavy east-European accent. I vill be, as you say, your den mutter for today, or longer if you neet. I am very goot dancer, other tings I understand you know better dan me already."

We take a couple of seats. I cross my legs and relax. Natasha flicks on the sound system and music blares from the multiple speakers. "I turn dis down," she says, "so dat you can hear me OK."

"First, secont, and tird, you selling sex. The whole time you dance, do not forget dis von ting. Dis means energy. If you giff off message you are not interested, of course men vill not be interested eeter. Vy shutt dey be? So remember please, alvays lot of energy. At end of dance you must sveat or is no goot. Den, you must haff de contact vit de eyes. Alvays ven you dance you look right in von man's eyes; you smile at him; you make him vont you so bad he can taste you. And den you dance just for him!" Dis is, how you say, mind-fuck. In four minute nude dance, you mind-fuck four different men in audience, you haff done goot. Girls fuck goot, dey can make goot money, you know dat. Mind-fuck is de same idea. Den you make your money ven you take dem in friction room." You come to club. You vatch girls dance. You see right avay vich girls know how to mind-fuck and vich do not."

I'm impressed already, and Natasha is still fully clad and hasn't danced a step yet. This is one savvy, foxy chick. Natasha pulls the purple sweatshirt over her head and steps out of the sweat pants. She's got on a jade green g-string and a matching bra. She doffs her sneakers and pulls a pair of extra high seven-inch platform heels out of a small dark blue duffle bag that has been sitting unobtrusively on the chair next to me. Natasha's just a few feet away from me, and the moment she puts on the shoes I'm once again amazed at just how extraordinarily they transform a girl's stature.

"OK, now you are on stage. De music starts, vot are you tinkin? You must make de biggest first impression; you get der attention; to do dis, you need fast movement, never de slow svaying like some girls do. De men haff to notice you. You vont de man to look up from his drink and his friends and vatch you instead. I tvirl around de pole fast several times; dis catches der eyes. You can kick you legs high or do some pole vork if you know how, but der must be lot of action. Energy! If you know de utter girl on stage vid you, you can do some tings togetter too. Bump and rub de pussies togetter, pretend de sixty-nine, votever you tink of. Dis is vile you still have bottom on. Vonce you nude, you have to be more careful wid the utter girl or you can get trouble. No tongue or finger in her, you know.

And vit de very high heels, you do not valk, you strut. Like fashion model on runvay, posture straight up and strut. Push breasts out. Remember, you six feet tall vit dees heels on you feet. "I show you now."

The music blares. Natasha swings around the pole; she's dazzlingly cat-like quick. She kicks high above her head, struts with the small of her back pulled in and breasts thrust brashly outward. She grinds to the beat – hips and pelvis in constant movement. It's the ultimate aerobics class; you could lose ten pounds in an hour doing this. Now she's looking me right in the eye. "Don't forget de eye contact," she shouts above the music.

She wraps her legs around the pole. "The pole is your man," Natasha calls, "you make love to your man." She holds the pole with both hands as high above her as she can reach and slides her groin up and down the pole, doing deep knee bends on those spike heels so the excursion up and down the pole is as exaggerated as possible. She lies on her stomach and hooks her g-string on one spiked heel, stretching it away from her such that it becomes buried in between her smooth shaved pussy lips. She flexes her knee and extends her lithe leg again and again so the stretched g-string in her pussy appears and disappears.

Exactly four minutes have elapsed and the music momentarily pauses. Natasha is glistening with perspiration, but she's in great shape, hardly even breathing hard. "Second song," she says, now you get naked.

The music starts up again. Still thrusting her hips, now she cups both breasts, teases the lacy edge of the bra cups down over both pouting nipples, so her perfect round breasts pop free, but she lets the displaced bra cling naughtily to her body for a few extra moments. I'm busy figuring she's a 34-C, all natural. Finally she unclasps the filmy bra and lets it falls away. One hand descends to the g-string tie and all it takes is the tiniest tug and it's off, dropping to the floor. She catches the g-string on one of the spiked shoes and kicks it away in my direction.

Completely nude, Natasha's lovemaking with the shiny brass pole seems to take on a new dimension. She's actually fucking the thing. It's half insinuating itself between her labia as she rubs herself up and down on it. The pole looks wet. I'm wet myself from watching this. The girl lies on her back, arches it, and fucks some imaginary lover. She pats her little mound a few times, then slides two licked fingers between her labia, and closes her eyes with mouth wide open in a look of the sheerest ecstasy. When she opens her eyes again, she's boring right into mine. I feel like taking her right there and now on the stage, and I'm a girl! She crosses and uncrosses those long legs, all the while with that moistened cunt beckoning right at us. No wonder men love strip clubs, what man couldn't love this?

Finally the music stops. It's only been eight minutes total. I'm mesmerized.

"So," Natasha smiles, "you get de idea? Now it your turn."

With what Natasha clearly expects, there's no way I am going to be able to participate today with my period, so Janie's the whole cast for the morning. She's an exhibitionist anyway, but the dance moves are more of a matter of timing and it is definitely going to take a bit of practice. In her little black minidress Janie would look coquettish like she's off to some trendy party, but the Lucite stripper shoes are just a bit too slutty for that image. In this milieu however, they're essentially a sine qua non – a kind of ticket of admission into this particular sisterhood.

Natasha flicks on the music. Janie remembers to "strut" over to the pole, grasps it and begins to twirl around it, but her feet get tangled up, she loses her grip on the pole, and she tumbles backward right on her keister. Natasha kills the music. "No, no Yanie," she instructs, "you crossed feet. You strut around pole, just like you strut everyvere else on stage, or you lift feet off stage completely and sving, but never cross feet on stage; vith dees high heels you ask for trouble." 

It's not the most auspicious start, Janie's embarrassed, and I don't want to laugh but Natasha can't hide her amusement and all three of us wind up sharing a good laugh. No harm, no foul, and it's actually been a great ice-breaker. Janie shakes it off and immediately looks more relaxed. Whatever tension there was has vanished, and we've both picked up a valuable tip to boot.

Natasha starts the music again. This time Janie gets the spin move perfect. She slips slinkily out of her little minidress, revealing her black g-string and nothing bra. She does the whole bit, the sliding, reaching up the pole, spreading, fondling, mock masturbation, even the stretched g-string in the pussy bit. She's really a natural. And on top of all that she remembers to keep eye contact with me, her only audience, and of course I reciprocate.

"Very good," Natasha says stopping the music, "but could use even more energy. Energy level must be highest you can do. Don't stop moving while you take off clothes. But not bad, Yanie, not bad. Now you strip." She starts the music again.

This time Janie gets the whole thing down without a hitch. Her energy output is noticeably elevated, and Natasha watches intently but says nothing as Janie undoes the bra, caresses her breasts, loosens the g-string, and completes the number stark nude, including the on-the-back pussy-flashing, leg crossing, moist-finger clit rub, everything Natasha demonstrated. A quick study indeed. She's put in one good aerobic workout, and her lovely body glistens accordingly with sweat.

Natasha is delighted. "You can do dis right now," she says. "You practice de spinning and posture and strutting a little more so it become second nature, but you could dance in club now. In fact, you come and do part shift in club dis evening, ya?"

"Do you think that's really necessary?" Janie asks. I'm wondering the same thing.

"Not necessary," Natasha replies, "but cannot hurt, and helpful for your movie to know vorkings and layout of club vell beforehand. Mr. Davis suggest dis.

"What the hell," Janie says resolutely, "why not?" 

"You don't need to vork full eight-hour shift, just strip two sets on stage, and visit tables for few nude private dances; also try few lap dances in friction room.

"Sounds like a lark," says Janie.

Natasha turns to me. "So Amy, you try dis now?" 

I'm disappointed that I can't comply, although I had intended to try at least something without removing the hot pants. But my flow is always heavy on my first day, and despite an extra-absorbent tampon, this unexpectedly energetic athletic activity will not have a good outcome, I know from embarrassing experience. 

"I'm sorry," Natasha, "I just started my period today, and I'll have to wait at least a day or two before I can give this the energy level it needs, even with clothes on."

"OK, then dat is it for dis morning. Yanie, I see you in club dressing room at eight o'clock tonight. Amy, you come and vatch if you like."

It is not yet 11 AM and we have to pick up our contracts at Bob's office at noon, after which we'll have the whole afternoon to ourselves. We check the yellow pages and take up most of the hour to visit a local branch of the same bank we use back at school, where we have no trouble cashing the cashier's checks.

We find Bob in his office when we get there and there are two legal size manila envelopes on his desk, with just our first names on pink memo notes paper-clipped to them.

"Here you go, ladies," he says, "please read these through. They're pretty straight-forward and you'll find there's nothing hidden in legalese or ultra-small print. But in the envelopes there is a list of a few good local attorneys if you feel you'd like to go that route. There's also a release form that gives us exclusive rights to use your footage from yesterday morning. I assume you liked the contents of the envelopes I gave you."

"Willow, (apparently we're going to be back in character from now on) Natasha already told me what a great student you were this morning, and that you're going to do the Wild Kitty this evening. Hang loose and have a lot of fun there. The place is very friendly and you'll do just fine. Cassandra, go along and enjoy the evening, and you can have a try there any time after you are physically able and Natasha feels you've got the moves down OK. I've talked with the owners of the club, and we are a definite for the night of the 28th, which is actually the early AM of the 29th. They're letting us set up starting right after closing, and we should be able to start the shoot by 3 AM, or shortly thereafter as long as there are no unforeseen snafus. After tonight you're free until Cassandra's session with Natasha, and you can set that up directly with her. One of you let the studio know when you need your two hours on soundstage B again. Here's Natasha's cell phone number." 




The California Trip Ch. 02



With that we're off to paint the town. The cash hasn't yet started to burn holes in our pockets, but we decide, as girls are wont to do, to do a little more shopping – starting at Frederick's of Hollywood, Every girl (and boyfriend too, for that matter) should visit this chain from time to time. It's fun shopping at Frederick's. It's like a naughty version of Victoria's Secret, and it makes you glad you're a girl. This time I get just three pairs of especially sexy sheer bikini panties with very low-cut fronts and lace edging, and a couple of filmy bras, and Janie picks out a sexy black bustier and some more thongs to add to her collection. The girl doesn't believe in panties unless they're the edible ones. We follow Grace's good advice and when we walk out of Frederick's we are also each the proud owners of our very own g-strings, in basic black plus three different designer colors. Next we visit this neat little boutique where I find a red cocktail dress and matching evening bag and pumps which sets me back some four hundred bucks, but I've earned it. Janie treats herself to two pairs of tight designer jeans and she's out about the same amount.

After a quick soup and salad lunch at a restaurant in the mall, we drive back to the hotel for an afternoon of vegging out by the pool.

In the middle of the afternoon it dawns on me. "Hey, Janie, do you realize that after this evening, all we have between now and the 28th is my session with Natasha, and after that maybe part of one shift at the club. Other than that we have no commitments at all, and if I can somehow put off my thing with Natasha until, say, the 27th, we've got six uninterrupted days over Christmas to plan something fun. Why don't we take a trip up the coast to San Francisco and take in some sights along the way? We've got the time, and now that we've got the finances too, let's find some great restaurants."

"Sounds good to me," Janie says not unenthusiastically, "but what about your thing with Natasha?"

"Let me call her right now."

I've already programmed Natasha's number into my cell phone. I punch it, hoping I don't get her voice mail, and she actually does pick up after the third ring.

"Hi, Natasha, it's Amy from the studio. I'm looking forward to getting together with you, but I wonder if we could wait on that until the 27th. Janie and I have the next few days free except for just that one thing, and we're thinking of taking a little trip up to San Francisco. Would that be OK with you?"

"Zis makes no difference to me," Natasha says, "ve can certainly do dat. Vy don't ve say ten o'clock in de morning, on de 27th. Dat is next Tursday morning. I meet you at same place at studio."

"Hey, that's really great of you, Natasha, thanks a lot, and enjoy the Christmas holidays."

"Ya, goot Christmas to you too."

"Bye, Natasha."

"Goot-bye"

"Janie, we're all set. We'll leave tomorrow morning. Any idea what the weather is supposed to be like for the next few days?"

Janie and I arrive at the Wild Kitty at 7:30 PM. My nostrils twitch at that now-familiar tell-tale strip club smell – a hard-to-pin-down mixture of cigarette smoke, perfume, perspiration, and - I swear - sex.

We look all around in search of Natasha, but I don't see her anywhere. The club is pretty crowded for this early in the evening. There's a full complement of half-naked girls in the lounge, nude dancers on all three stages, and frankly it's hard to pick out Natasha's pretty breasts among all the other pretty breasts.

The music stops, girls in g-strings and the briefest of tops replace the naked ones who have just completed their eight minutes on stage. Just after the music starts again I spot Natasha emerging from one of the two friction rooms stuffing some bills into her garter. She's also wearing a g-string and sports a totally see-through tank top. She sees us at about the same time.

"Hullo," she greets us, "velcome back to club, ve go to dressing room, come." I glance at the wad of bills in her garter, and the one showing is a fifty.

The dressing room is just what you'd expect - make-up tables and stools, mirrors, all varieties of girlie stuff on hooks on the walls. There's a small locker room with full height but narrow lockers on each wall, and through the locker room is a large bathroom area with showers and sinks and private toilet stalls complete with bidets.

Natasha introduces us to three or four girls who are getting dressed/undressed. "Yanie, you put on vot you vont, den you come out to lounge. You circulate for tventy minutes or so, den Dennis announce you to dance on bar stage."

Janie strips out of her brand new tight designer jeans and black thong and deposits them safely in one of the lockers, along with her white silk tank top and purse. She's not wearing a bra. She steps into a royal blue g-string and puts on a brief blue halter top that ties in the rear. On go the six-inch Lucite heels and a garter on one ankle, a final tiny dab of perfume, and she's all set. She's done her own make-up back at the hotel and it's fine, but I run a quick brush through her dark-dyed long hair for her to neaten what was tussled on the way over in the convertible. It's Xmas week, but it's sixty-seven degrees in the Valley.

I go and plant myself on a stool at the horseshoe bar, from where I can see the other stages, as well as securing a bird's eye view of the bar stage on which Janie will be performing. This is the club's only stage where the customers can't actually reach the dancer, as the horseshoe bar well, where the bartender and cocktail waitresses operate, surrounds the walkway stage in the center of the bar area.

Janie "struts" out to mingle with the clientele. Her first stop is at a table with three burly, jolly guys in jeans and neat short-sleeved shirts, obviously good buddies. Some guys come in after a softball game, or after a construction job, and they smell accordingly and then are put off when the girls won't come to their table. I know I wouldn't. These three guys look both clean and friendly, and they eye Janie approvingly. She takes the hand of one fellow and sits down on his lap; then she puts the other hand softly on the back of his neck and kneads it a little. I can see this two hundred ten pound guy begin to melt in front of my eyes. 

Janie exchanges pleasantries with all three for a couple of minutes, and is offered a drink which she politely declines. The guy whose lap she is sitting on has one hand on her thigh, and the other plays with one breast over the tank top. He whispers something to her, and Janie smiles appreciatively and nods. When the music stops and starts again, Janie stands up and removes her top and then the g-string too - tantalizingly - all the while locking eyes with this guy. To his credit he doesn't look away. She gyrates in place a bit, he slouches down in the seat to make his lap wider and stretches his legs out, spread slightly apart. She crawls up on this guy's knees with those gorgeous breasts jiggling and brings one nipple to within two inches of his lips. She straightens up so her pussy is now inches away from this guy's face and massages her slit with her middle finger. Then, she abruptly turns around and sits in his lap again, lying with her back on his chest, and spreads her legs wide for his two friends. She reaches up behind her with both arms behind the guy's neck, so her head is back on one of his shoulders, they are cheek to cheek, and her floral scented hair splays out over his face. She grinds her rear end on this guy's erection, arches her back, and pushes her chest out. I'm amused by the way the clientele at the three neighboring tables are watching Janie's performance while trying very hard, but not too successfully, not to stare! Janie crosses and uncrosses her legs and the two friends squirm a little in their seats.

The music pauses; it's been four minutes already. Would you like another dance?" Janie asks.

These guys would be crazy to let her leave their table, and they know it. Each in turn buys a ten dollar nude dance from her, and they're half way through a second round when Dennis, the deejay, announces Willow to the horseshoe stage. Meanwhile, sitting alone at the bar, I've been hit on twice by men most likely figuring, quite understandably, that I'm fair game too, even though I'm fully clothed - highly unusual for a woman in this room. 

Janie's already got a ten and two twenties in her garter when, once again in halter and g-string, she enters the bar well and climbs up onto the stage in front of me. The same spotlight highlights Janie and the backdrop of clear Van Gogh and Grey Goose and other designer bottles on the shelves of the elegant bar.

The music starts. It's her first time, and Janie goes her entire routine like she's done this a million times before. She sees me watching and winks at me once. I love watching her nude, she's just beautiful, what can you say? If I were a guy, who knows what I'd do for just one chance to fuck this girl. During the course of her two numbers I watch her make eye contact with any number of the guys around the bar. She's on her back touching her clit with two moist fingers when the music finally stops. The bargirl hands her a fistful of dollar bills as she's stepping back into her black g-string.

"Nice job, Janie," I tell her, "how about a private dance?" She's counts the dollar bills; the are sixteen of them and one five, and she adds the wad to the greenbacks already in her garter. Predictably, one of the three guys whose table she had to leave to do her strip on stage comes over to ask her back, but Janie politely tells him she'll come back later if they're still there. Naughty girl wants to work the room a bit. He goes back to his two friends looking crestfallen, obviously very disappointed. They were so sure they had a good thing going.

We look around, and I nod in the direction of another table where we watch two studious-looking fellows, one wearing thick glasses, one with a small goatee. In contrast to the three burly friends, these two are slight, and I figure they're also no more than minimum age to get into this place, if even that. No doubt virgins, probably their first time in a club, and it probably took all the courage they could muster to come here at all. But, hey, they did it. Not in a million years would either of them ever dream of even approaching a babe as gorgeous as Janie, plus she's got to be five years older, but she nods at me and shrugs with determination. "Here goes, watch this."

When Janie touches the young man with the goatee on the back of the neck, the poor guy nearly jumps out of his shoes. His friend's jaw has dropped. I try to get within earshot.

"Enjoying yourself?" Janie says, "See anything you like?"

The guy is speechless. "Uh, sure I do," he stammers, "like you for example." 

All right, I say to myself, go for it, little man. The whole scene hits me so funny I almost laugh out loud. Janie could so effortlessly crush this poor kid like a bug, but I know she will do just the opposite just for the sheer fun of it. "Private dance," she asks, "only ten bucks."

Goatee fumbles for his wallet, but Janie tells him it's OK until afterwards.

The music starts and Janie turns around. "Untie the top," she tells him. It falls away.

"Pull on this," she whispers, her eyes motioning down at the side tie on the g-string. She has to guide his hand before he gives it a little tug and she is completely naked. She goes through pretty much the same routine as at the first table, spreading her legs wide and offering the young man with the thick glasses what is probably his first-ever up-close-and-personal view of what every man dreams of. I could swear I see the thick glasses steaming up.

The three guys at table number one are watching this, and I'd give ten bucks to know what they're thinking right now. In any event, when Janie has finished the four minutes this fellow actually asks her, "Uh, do you have change for a twenty?"

I can't imagine she intends to spend another minute with these two, but she's not quite through with them yet. The ice broken, thick glasses guy has gotten up enough nerve to ask her for a nude dance for himself, but Janie says, "how about a lap dance instead. It's way better and I can do a lot more for you in there."

He's absolute putty in her hands as she takes him by the hand and leads him off to the friction room, where unfortunately I can't follow. Goatee guy is left behind and watches them disappear into the recesses of the inner sanctum.

A few minutes later, Janie is back, but I have no idea what has happened to the young man she was with. I'm so curious I can't contain myself.

"Well," I ask her, "tell me, what happened? What the hell did you do in there?" 

"I gave him his very first lap dance is what happened in there. Popped his strip club cherry, so to speak. Actually he was very cute; shy and almost too polite – and...she raises her eyebrows...he was pretty big and rock-hard. I humped him really good and he came in about thirty seconds. I removed his thick glasses first, and I'll bet he couldn't even see a thing that was going on. I told him the lap dance was twenty-five bucks but that we always appreciate tips, so he fished around in his wallet and gave me a fifty! Poor guy was so embarrassed, but I betcha he'll be back."

"Where the hell is he?" 

"There he is," says Janie. We watch the young man heading sheepishly back to his table to join young goatee, who will forever lament the fact that his friend got the lap dance with gorgeous Janie and he didn't. As he's about to sit down I notice that his shirt is now untucked, and realize he's trying but failing to conceal, as unobtrusively as possible, the conspicuous cum stain on the front of his pants. I smile to myself. A rite of passage has just played itself out.

"Aren't you going to give his friend a chance?" I ask Janie.

She shakes her head. "Oh, you're so cruel," I tell her.

Janie does one more sequence on stage, works a couple more tables, and does two or three lap dances – one of them a triple for twelve minutes, and then she's done and we're outta there. Back in the dressing room she stands there naked and counts the money tucked in her garter. She's collected a total of three hundred thirty four dollars in less than two hours.

We are back at the hotel just after eleven. We've had a chance to look over the contracts, and true to Bob's word they are very simple. There's no small print. It's basically just one page that has the amount they are agreeing to pay, along with a short expurgated description of the work involved, a statement wherein you agree that the studio has all the rights to the footage and you relinquish all residual rights, and several disclaimers absolving the studio of responsibility, not for any physical injury suffered on the job, but for any disease that might be transmitted or for any personal embarrassment or impingement of personal-life privacy that might ensue pursuant to this endeavor. That stuff would be the participant's concern alone, and I have no problem with that. Bob has been more than up front with us on everything up to now, and neither of us feels there's any reason to consult a lawyer. We sign the contracts and the release forms for our audition footage and will drop everything off at the studio on our way out of town tomorrow morning.

The next day is Friday, and we check out of the hotel, but reserve the same room starting the following Wednesday night, December 26. We drop off the contracts at Bob's office; he's not there, but one of the staff people pages him for us and we give him the signed contracts hand to hand. He is obviously delighted, but it's just a formality - none of us ever really had any serious doubts.

We take the Ventura Freeway west past Oxnard to Ventura and make our first stop in Santa Barbara. We make a side trip to the quaint but touristy Danish village of Solvang, then make our way over to California Route 1, the Pacific Coast Highway which will take us up past the Hearst Castle, Big Sur, Carmel, and Monterrey where I get to try abalone for the first time, and it's not bad, and we get to see the beautiful campus of Stanford University in Palo Alto.

The first night in San Francisco we dine in Chinatown, where I enjoy just about the best shrimp and lobster sauce I've ever tasted, and of course in San Francisco, we have to visit at least one strip club. This is after all the city from which the concept of lap dancing spread to the whole rest of the country. Even though it's the night before Christmas Eve, I have to admit Santa Claus ringing a bell on the street two doors down from the front entrance of the strip club does seem a bit incongruous. I think the strippers at the Wild Kitty are better, and this club is too smoky for my taste. But...we do make friends with Charles, a really good-looking guy visiting from Seattle, and we get to talking and chatting it up over a couple of drinks. He's a software engineer/entrepreneur type with a degree from Stanford and extremely bright in addition to his good looks. To make a long story short, we go back with him to his hotel room where, shall we say, a good time is had by all and Janie is just unbelievable considering that she has her period, but that's all I'm going to say about that except that I did get Charles' cell phone number and it's presently programmed into my own.

We spend a couple of days, including Christmas, in San Francisco where we visit Alcatraz the first morning and later drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to have lunch in Sausalito. It's not as warm here as it was further south and we have to keep the convertible's top up. Christmas day we drive across the Oakland Bay Bridge and visit the Berkeley campus. I would have liked to see Yosemite, but it's the wrong time of the year and we don't have enough time anyway, so after our touristy spree in the Bay Area, we take the fast track back to the San Fernando Valley on I-5 and make it back to our hotel by 8 PM Wednesday evening. Our little trip turns out to have been a terrific idea, and the week has been a really lovely diversion.

Thursday morning I do my thing with Natasha on soundstage B. I have no trouble, and it's even a bit anticlimactic since I've had a chance to go to school watching Janie's learning experience. I manage the spins and everything else, but the tight hot pants have got to go; it's too much of a fuss to get them off them quickly enough. Natasha is satisfied with my effort, and we agree I will do a couple of hours at the Wild Kitty tonight just like Janie did. I'm actually really looking forward to that, having seen first-hand how much fun Janie had.

Stripping that evening turns out to be a real lark. I get naked on the same horseshoe bar stage where Janie performed and entertain several bunches of jovial guys at their tables. I especially love spreading my legs for a guy's friends while I'm ostensibly doing the table dance for him. It's kind of a mind-fuck for all of them in different ways. And not to be outdone, I make it a point to seek out a couple of nerdy types like Janie did, just to see for myself what that is like, and I have a surprisingly amusing time. The poor guy cums in his pants, almost before I can even get moving in his lap, and misses out on the best part. But I get the feeling these little shy types actually appreciate us more than anyone else, and I suddenly realize it's because they have absolutely no sense of entitlement when it comes to sex with women. Shouldn't they get to have some fun too?

I collect three hundred twenty four dollars, so Janie gets bragging rights.

It's Friday, the 28th, and we sleep in this morning because it's going to be a long night. We did the Fleets routine before going to bed, and we've got to do it once more today and also watch what we eat in that regard. In the early afternoon we visit a salon and get our hair done as well as manicures and pedicures. We get pretty painted nails - red for me, purple for Janie - and some cascading curls, and the studio picks up the tab.




The California Trip Ch. 02



We have a meager supper – the adrenaline is beginning to flow and I'm not very hungry anyway, and then we've got the evening to kill, so we watch two of the studio's gangbang CD's in our room to see, if by either positive or negative example, we can pick up any last-minute pointers watching four different pairs of two girls fuck twelve men every which way and take their cumshots as creatively as possible. I don't think they're all that talented and can think of any number of things I would have done differently. A number of the cumshots miss entirely, some perhaps having been ducked, there are no internals that I can see, and only one cream pie shot – total. Many times the girls are caught self-consciously looking at the camera instead of seeming to concentrate on what they're doing. In the end they all wind up dutifully with cum in their mouths and all over their faces, but all in all both CD's, and the four sequences and all eight female performances are mediocre at best. Janie and I dissect these girls as we watch them fuck and point out all the shortcomings. For sure we won't be making any of these amateurish mistakes.

  We arrive at the club just after one A.M. and pause briefly in the lounge to watch a nude long-haired brunette spreading her legs for the guys around the horseshoe bar. She's lying on her side and holds one of her thin ankles and lifts the leg high above her head, presenting the guys with an especially alluring view of her perfect, shaved perineum. She spins around to give the same view to the guys on the other side of the bar. Several guys in turn hand bills to the bargirl to slip in the pretty stripper's garter. 

  We are to meet in the owner's office in the rear, and George is already there when we walk in. "Good morning, ladies," George says, "hope you're well-rested and pumped. We've got a busy night ahead. We nod and smile, and there is general good karma and a palpable sense of anticipation.

  "As we've talked about before, during the shoot you guys will have pretty much free rein. During the shoot we might relay some instructions to you via an unseen whisper from someone, but basically you can do anything you want, anywhere you want, and with however many guys you want, and/or with each other. You'll guide them, and they'll guide you. Don't be afraid to speak to them and ask them what they want, just as if they were paying customers. It's not really rocket science. However, I want to offer a few guidelines so you'll know generally the big picture that we're after."

  "The scene is basically an ordinary night in the club and you are just two of the bottomless dancers. You've had a chance to see how the club works, and everything in the background will be going on exactly as usual. The deejay will call out the songs, the bartender will mix drinks, the cocktail waitresses will circulate and serve drinks, and each stage will have girls stripping as usual while you two proceed to carry things to a whole new level. Remember, think of this as fulfilling the ultimate fantasy of every guy who ever visits a strip club. He'd give his right chobe to fuck you, and just for this one brief shining moment, if you'll pardon the cliché, he's going to get the chance."

  "Now, you've also had the opportunity to watch a number of our gangbang movies. Typically, the guys take turns fucking the girls in various ways and in various combinations, and in various holes, but the cumshots generally all occur at the end. In fact, a lot of films in the past few years have the girl simply open her mouth wide and one by one each guy cums directly in her mouth, always with the same camera close-up. All you get to see is the little pool of several whitish loads in her throat before she swallows and then she licks her lips as if to say, 'oh, yummy.' I absolutely hate this concept. Not only is it stupid, but once the girl swallows it, the cum is gone. You can't see it anymore."

  "We're not going to do that. Instead we are going to go for having your faces and bodies covered with cum, just like you did when Bob discovered you at that theatre-in-the round party. That was white hot and, remember, it's what got you here in the first place. We also want lots of cum not just on your faces, but in, around, and on your other orifices. Viewers have also consistently asked us for more cream pie shots, so we're going to want to provide lots of those. You will wear the cum from the first guy you fuck on you for the rest of the shoot, along with each successive load. You can wipe cum away if it is getting in your eyes, but otherwise leave everything exactly where it is deposited. You want cumshots hitting you during the entire shoot, not just at the end, although of course, like all good fireworks displays, we'll save a generous fusillade for the grand finale. At the end of this movie you want the viewer to see two deliciously gang-fucked sluts who are literally glazed.

"Oh, and one more thing. What I said about swallowed cum being simply gone as far as the camera is concerned is true of internals too. About half the cumshots are going to be inside your pussy or up the ass, which is great, but if the camera doesn't see it, it's as good as swallowed, and that's bad. So you gotta be thinking, whatever goes in must come out, and of course it will, even though it may be a minute or two or three later. This is especially true if you manage to get fucked in some upside-down position, because several loads will temporarily collect inside whatever hole they arrived in. Use that as a plus when you get back to an upright position again. You'll be generally aware of where the cameras are, so try to make sure a camera always gets to see that cum seeping back out of you, because it's one of the things the audience loves most. Also one guy's cum load leaking out is just a small trickle, but several loads at once, now that's a big money shot. I know this is a lot to take in in just a few minutes, but it's attention to these kinds of details that makes all the difference in the overall effect. Any questions?"

  "I understand the effect we're after, but won't we ruin the upholstery on the club's chairs if we're dripping cum everywhere?" I ask. 

  "Good question, but we've already taken care of all those sorts of details. We measured the cushions last week, and for the shoot we'll have replaced the upholstered cushions with vinyl ones we had made especially for this project. The crew will do that and other preparations as soon as the club closes at 2 A.M., and we should be ready to shoot by 3 o'clock or so. If all goes well, the filming shouldn't take more than an hour and a half, two hours tops." We'll be long gone by the time the club is ready to open for normal business again at 11 A.M.

  "Uh, how many guys will we have?" asks Janie.

  George smiles. "Twenty-seven if everyone shows up." 

  Janie and I look at each other. Her mouth is open a little.

  "What, that isn't a good number?" asks George.

  "Well, that's only thirteen and a half each," I quip, and it actually doesn't seem particularly daunting anymore anyway. After all, there were over twenty at the theatre-in-the-round, and although we did share them, we had most of them twice, and a few even three times. "The number is not a problem," I answer George, and I open my legs and run my middle finger lasciviously between them a few times and smile at him as mischievously as I can.

"Only twenty-seven?" adds Janie with a mock pout.

"There is one other thing," adds George. "Jeez," I'm thinking, "what now?"

"The whole concept here is fantasy fulfillment, and incidentally, not just for men but for women too. I know some women's groups think gang bang flicks are – exploitation – is the word they like to use, but ask yourselves, did anybody twist your arm to do this project? Of course not. You're fulfilling your own fantasy, one that almost every woman has had at least once, although few will admit it. It's a perfectly safe fantasy, because the odds of actually fulfilling it are about ten million to one, but come on now, when you were in high school and beginning to explore sex, did you ever fantasize about what it would be like to be gang fucked in the locker room by the entire football team? You did, didn't you? Well, so have most of your prim friends, and fifty million other healthy young girls. Women will enjoy this movie vicariously. They'll enjoy it a lot – we know that for a fact from actual marketing surveys. You're actually living what they wish they had the courage to do themselves, but of course they don't, so you get to do it for all of them.

But getting back to fulfilling men's fantasies, we had a brainstorm idea along those lines. Besides fucking a stripper on stage, or doing a group thing with two or more girls, a lot of guys' pet fantasy is being in a porn movie. So we asked ourselves, is there any way we can we work that into this project? And we came up with a novel idea. Obviously, everybody always wants as many cum shots in a hardcore flick as possible, so we thought why not kill two birds with one stone?"

"A lot of the regular customers here are well-heeled and would think nothing of paying some serious money, say $1,000, to fulfill a pet fantasy, if only there were some foolproof way to maintain privacy. Getting laid in a public place in front of an audience is not exactly a practical possibility for these guys, so this fantasy seems destined to remain forever unfulfilled. A lot of these guys are doctors, lawyers, and other professionals with reputations to protect, and for them discretion is the whole name of the game."

"So you're going to give these guys their once-in-a-lifetime chance. During this movie they are being offered the role of "extras" of a sort. They will remain off camera, but get nice blow jobs from a few of our girls to get them ready, and then they'll get to contribute their cumshots for the movie. None of them will be seen above the waist, but they get what they want, and we get what we want."

"Uh, they're not part of the twenty-seven, are they?" asks Janie.

"No, of course not. That's why they're 'extras.'"

"How many 'regular customers' took you up on your offer?" I ask.

"Fifteen. Actually we have four attorneys, three doctors, a college professor, five corporate types, one professional athlete, and the owner of one of the largest car dealerships in the Valley. And every one of them has had satisfactory bloodwork results, just like you. Cooperation with that was non-negotiable, but we've been extremely discreet. Incidentally, here's the good news. Of the $15,000 these gentlemen anted up, you two will split half of it. The Wild Kitty Club gets the other half. We get the fifteen free cumshots.

Oh hell, I'm figuring, in for a dime, in for a dollar.

"Leave a good hour to get made up, and be ready to go at about ten to three," George advises us, "we'll plan to start shooting at three. We'll check with you in the dressing room around two thirty to see how you're coming. Grace will take good care of you like she always does." He leaves us to ourselves.

We've got a little while now to just watch the strippers and relax to get our acts together in our minds before we retreat to the dressing room to get ready. We've dutifully done our Fleets routine and avoided coffee and alcohol for the past three hours. We'll stick with a little water if we get thirsty. We'll make a brief visit to the ladies room at the very last minute. After all, the last thing you want is to have to pee in the middle of the movie, so you've got to think of even that.

I study a naked Asian girl on the horseshoe bar stage, watching her as she rubs a beer bottle between her legs. Then she takes a swig, and I realize it wasn't even empty. I watch her eyes intently, but they are a million miles away. Janie gives me a nudge and I realize I've been daydreaming and my mind has been alliterating.

"Quarterback quenches prom queen's quivering quim..."

It's the locker room fantasy that George described so perfectly, and he was right on - I have had that vision many times.

"A penny for your thoughts," says Janie.

"I had the locker room fantasy, and it seemed like a deja vu."

"No kidding, I've had the same fantasy ever since high school."

"Well, tonight we'll be wide receivers!" I suggest.

"Nah, I'm going to be the tight end," Janie chuckles.

"They'll come up the middle." I'm chuckling too.

"They'll split the uprights." We share a really good laugh.

"He shoots, he scores!" laughs Janie.

"Wrong sport," I tell her, both of us still laughing gleefully.

"They'll split the defense!" Janie's got to get the last one in, even if it's still the wrong sport...

Just before two, the club is getting ready to close, so we slip off to the dressing room. Normally, the strippers would be going home, or wherever else, for the night, and the dressing area would be emptying out, but some girls have been asked to stay and dance in the background during the movie shoot, for which I'm sure they're being adequately compensated. One corner has been cordoned off for our group, and that's where we find Grace and three of the make-up crew. 

We strip and put on thin club robes and stow our clothes and purses safely away in two of the lockers. Obviously getting "dressed" is kind of a misnomer, so it's mainly make-up we're here for. It's essentially only for the opening few minutes, where we are supposed to still be just club dancers, for which we need the make-up, because once the action starts our faces will quickly be painted with a different kind of "make-up" and everything will run then anyway. Our hair is pristine, with new pretty cascading curls, but that too is primarily for the dancing and stripping part at the beginning, because five minutes into the shooting our hair too will already be getting matted and sticky and it will no longer matter. Nonetheless, Grace and her assistants hover over us intently with their cosmetics. We get all the accoutrements – mascara, liner, heavy eye shadow, and the usual heavy show-biz face make up for the bright camera lights. Grace darkens our areolas and I enjoy a tiny thrill from her inadvertently lightly brushing my nipples.

Grace smiles demurely, as if to say, "I did that on purpose."

Good as his word, George has sent in a girl to remind us of the time. It's just after two thirty. Grace's people are all done with the make-up. I take a few sips of water – carefully – I don't want to mess up the carefully-applied red lip gloss.

From my tote bag I pull out my new Frederick's of Hollywood red g-string, put one foot through, and tie the side lace. The teensy red bra I have to match is purposely a smidge tight and gathers my breasts up just enough to subtly accentuate their cleavage. The confining tight red hot pants are long gone and it's just a simpler brief red cover-up to start off with. I'm wearing 2 ½ inch red hoop earrings, my favorite playful style. I think they're good luck.

Janie's bra and g-string are basic black; she's got yellow hoop earrings, and heavy bluish-purple eye shadow – the complementary color - with heavy black eye liner and mascara, and shiny purplish lip gloss. Without argument, just like they did for Janie's audition, they've made her as slutty-looking as possible. 

"You look like a slut," she tells me. 

"I look like a slut? You look like you're ready to take on the football team, the coach, the band, the mascot, and the whole male student body!"

"Excellent," says Janie.

We've got less than ten minutes to get outside and get positioned, and twenty before the shooting begins. We both go to the ladies room to empty our bladders. My lips are dry, but I allow myself only a few more careful sips of water. Grace checks us out one last time and nods approval. Finally we both slip on our six-inch Lucite heels.

Out in the lounge, the club looks more or less the same, but here and there are black cables snaking across the floor, and there are a number of cameras, banks of lights, black plastic covering some of the carpeting, and clear vinyl seat cushions have replaced the club's usual upholstery. A few technicians mill about, and a smattering of men is seated around a number of the tables. The place isn't filled nearly to its usual capacity. Eventually I spot George over in the VIP area which is to be our entrance point. 

"All set," George asks."

"As ready as ever," Janie answers.

"You guys look good enough to eat," George says.

"Seems I've heard that line before recently," I answer, but I know he only means it as a sincere compliment.

George glances at his Rolex. "We start in eight minutes," he says. "You're gonna be dynamite. Try to remember the things we talked about; always be thinking high energy. All cum, both external and internal, visible, and...camera accessibility to all the internal ones. Very important. Have a lot of fun and let it show. Any last-minute questions?"

Janie shakes her head and my mind races, but I can't think of a single one either as the seconds tick away.

The current heavy metal number ends with a cacophony of crashing dissonance and bass guitar, and it's time.

Without missing a beat the DJ singsongs into his mike, "OK gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, candy for the eyes, now up on the Valentine stage the tantalizing Jasmine, on the Horseshoe stage sultry Desiree, and on the Main stage our sizzling girlfriends Cassandra and Willow!

The two naked strippers who have just finished scoop up their dropped g-strings and one or two loose dollar bills from the stage and edge past us as we ascend the four small steps to begin our movie careers.

"Action," George hollers, and loud music suddenly fills the club again. Remember eye contact, I hurriedly remind myself. I toss my hair once and it's just five poised strides on those spiked heels to the brass pole on the right which I grab with my right hand and spin around it several times right away, then a few more times - slower - thrusting my hips with the music's beat. The camera lights are bright – almost blinding – but I can still make out faces, though just at the tables nearest the stage. I reach above me, both hands high on the pole, right over left, and grind up and down along the sleek brass. Natasha's been a good teacher. My ears catch a few whoops from out in the room. I lock eyes with a guy in the front row of tables. I run my hands over my breasts, down over my crotch and up again. Pinch the nipples through the bra, lower it just enough to expose one dark pink nipple, lick two fingers and rub saliva on the nipple, exhale through pursed lips at the same time. Fingers down between my legs, run a hand between them, move the g-string aside momentarily - just a little - then hands back to the breasts. Lock eyes with another guy. Smile and wink – he thinks it's just for him. Keep gyrating. Keep moving. Energy. Never just stand and sway.

As planned, the first song ends after just two minutes instead of the usual four, so we don't waste energy and can get down to the nitty-gritty faster. A new song begins. I brush up and down the brass pole again for about ten seconds, then, while still rubbing, I unfasten the tiny front snap on the filmy little bra, and the two almost-nothing cups hang loose. I face the room, bend forward a little, and shake my now-free breasts. My left hand unlooses the g-string tie on my left hip, as I pull an arm out of the bra and let it drop to the floor. I bend over, rear end high to the audience, swaying from side to side, nothing left to the imagination. More whooping. 

I lie on my back, legs spread and high, crossing and uncrossing, flashing the audience. Now on my knees, thrust out that ass, reach between my legs, moist finger between the labia. I glance over at Janie. She's on her back, exactly like I just was. I scoot over to her on my knees, straddle her face, lie forward, slowly lower my face between her spread legs, insinuate my tongue into her slit, my eyes locked with those of another of the guys in the front row. Janie squeals so loud you can hear her above the music. I'm kneeling over her and lower myself onto her face and now it's her tongue simultaneously probing me as I lick the inside of her faster and faster. The unmistakable scent of girl already permeates the air.




The California Trip Ch. 02



We disentangle ourselves, and crawl toward the very middle front of the stage, to the double-width brass-railinged steps leading into the midst of the lounge. Janie heads left, I head in the opposite direction. Normally, dancers approaching the tables would have their tops and bottoms back on, but we are buck-naked. Fours guys are seated around the first table, each with a beer, all affability and smiles. I notice the seat cushions are now all clear vinyl. The table is bathed in bright light and a camera is not more than six feet away. I sashay over. "Hi, I'm Cassandra. Would any of you like a private dance?"

"Sure, honey, go ahead," says this big muscular blond guy. We'd all love to see you dance for us." I smile and nod and begin again to move to the hard music. The guy leans back in his chair. Like Natasha did for us, I climb up with one knee on each of the chair's arms, and staring directly into this guy's eyes, I slowly inch my pussy toward his face. He swallows and runs his tongue over his lips. I thrust myself against his mouth and squish around a little. His tongue is suddenly inside me and I'm fucking this guy's face. 

Beer bottles quickly disappear from the tabletop. He lifts me away momentarily and back onto the table, my legs in the air and resumes eating me. Then I'm slid a little further back on the table so my head is hanging backward down off the opposite side. The guy has quickly stripped (no one wears underwear) and his cock is already probing my labia. I spread wide; one good thrust and he's all the way in. I let out a gasp and he starts pumping me for all he's worth. The camera is right there, but I remember not to look at it. I'm already breathing hard and suddenly, a second cock is shoved in my mouth. With my neck bent back over the table edge, I'm seeing this guy upside-down. I suck him as best I can, but my pussy is being pounded really hard and I still have to breathe somehow. The pumping down below stops for a moment but almost right away another guy has taken his place. Out of the corner of my eye I see that Blondie is now next to my head, and while I'm still sucking his friend, he gives a guttural "aahhhhh" and unloads all over my face. Warm cum runs down the left side of my nose and into my mouth so the cock I'm sucking is suddenly plunging in and out of a mouthful of cummy froth. There's a squishy slurpy sound with each thrust. Warm liquid trickles down my neck. 

Again the fucking stops for a moment, and a third guy starts pumping away. I don't have time to wonder about guy number two before his three shots hit my face from the other side. Cum runs from my right eye down the right side of my nose and again into my mouth. I'm aware of camera flashes. Then the cock I'm sucking swells and erupts, thrusting as it spurts and filling my mouth with more cum which makes this "schloop" sound each time this throbbing shaft pulls part way out before plunging back in again. We've been at this for only a few minutes, my face is glazed, and meanwhile I've already swallowed quite a bit of the creamy stuff– there's just no way you can help that. Meanwhile I'm still being fucked and about to be quickly cummed on again. This time the guy pulls out and covers my bald mound with his sticky semen. I'm briefly aware of the camera honing in for a close-up. Then someone sticks four ten dollar bills in my garter. 

I stand up, gather myself for a moment, toss my hair a couple of times, and remember not to wipe away at the cum, either on my face or down below. I catch sight of Janie two tables away. She also has four men around her table, and even from twenty feet away I can see the light reflecting off glistening streaks on her face and breasts. At the moment she's spread-eagled on the table being fucked by this big black dude, with another camera a few feet away. My four guys are serenely sitting back at their table again, sipping their beers. As though nothing whatsoever out of the ordinary were going on, a cocktail waitress in high heels and a leopard-skin bikini comes by with her little tray and actually asks the five of us if we'd like a drink! I order a beer that I won't get to drink. The blond guy says, "This round's on me."

I'm beckoned over by one of two athletic-looking large black men at a neighboring table, so I sidle over. "Hi guys, "what's up?" I rub my pussy against the edge of the table, leaving an obscene white smear on the edge.

"Well, honey, actually a couple of things are up." Big beautiful smile. His eyes scan me quickly from top to bottom and make me acutely aware of the fresh wet cum I'm wearing. How about a dance for us?

I nod. "You got it, big guy." 

The deejay is still announcing new strippers for the various stages, and there is a new music every four minutes. Just another normal night at the club...

I begin to gyrate again. Big guy stands up – he's got to be at least six foot five. I open his pants which drop to the floor. His thing is exactly what I expect it to be, and I hope I can accommodate it. Before I can even get him into my mouth, I am turned around, bent over the table, and he starts to push it in me from behind, but the table is too big for me to reach to the other side, so there is nothing for me to grip and no way for me to get the leverage to thrust back against him. He seems to realize this at the same moment I do, so we reconnoiter on the fly. I lead him and his friend up onto the stage, where two nude dancers are doing pole routines, each doing those athletic upside-down gymnastic contortions that I wouldn't even attempt. I think to bring along a cushion.

On the stage I kneel on the cushion and now Mr. Big doggie-fucks me big time. Now I've got the cushion to grasp and it works much better. The guy's size is an experience in and of itself. He's slapping against my ass, and my clit is getting one major slippery workout and in about a half a minute that now-familiar flower begins to blossom way down there, and the flush is rising and rising and rising and I'm panting faster and faster until I scream out as suddenly everything releases in a flood of wetness and warmth and shuddering. Still camera flashes are going off continually. The bright lights on me make it hard to see. Mr. Big keeps right on fucking me; he hasn't come yet at all. His friend comes close for me to suck him, and now I've got one in each end. I know there's no chance here for a dp - these guys are just too out and out big.

While I'm sucking and fucking these two, Janie has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She pulls Mr. Big's banana right out of my pussy and proceeds to deep throat his cock, shiny with all my juices. I swear she deep throats this guy! He's got to be nine or ten inches, and thick too, and she gets it all down! I am just absolutely amazed at what this girl can do. Meanwhile I stop sucking number two and straddle him reverse cowgirl style, mainly so I also can watch Janie while I ride this big cock.

Meanwhile four other naked guys have joined us on the stage. Janie finally stops her deep throating just long enough for one guy to get it into her from behind. Now her lower body is getting thudded while she gets back to sucking Mr. Big. She's making these unh, unh, unh pants while all this is going on, and finally Mr. Big grabs a handful of her hair and yells "aw, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, and he starts spurting I swear right down Janie's throat. In the middle of this he pulls out so most of the load actually cascades out of Janie's panting mouth and all over her lips and chin and down her neck. He shoves it down her again and keeps cumming for about fifteen seconds and sperm just keeps welling up out of Janie's mouth around this plunging shaft. I swear she's drowning in the stuff. Cameras are right there capturing all of this for CD purchasers, magazine still shots, and for posterity... 

While she is still gurgling and sputtering Mr. Big's gigantic load, Janie also receives a load up inside her pussy. She gets up. strides over to me, and while I'm still bouncing up and down, straddles my face to let me lick the cum out of that pretty little cunt of hers. The camera flashes go crazy. Then she bends over and gives me this big sloppy, sticky kiss so I can share Mr. Big's overly generous load with her. Our tongues are still playing with the sticky strings when I get a series of hot spurts delivered up my own cunt. Janie lies down and I squat over her face and slide my oozing gash over her mouth and nose.

We kneel side by side so the three other guys on stage can take turns fucking both of us from behind. But this time it's in our other holes. A small bottle of KY materializes and I feel something warm being rubbed on my asshole. Then there's that momentary stretching and then something pops in and I feel it slide slowly up inside my bottom until this guy's balls are up against me. The cock pulls out a little, then slides in deep, then almost out, easier and easier, again and again, until I feel the tell-tale throbbing and suddenly I've got my first good-sized load in the ass. He pulls out and I squeeze so his cum can dribble out for the camera. Janie's getting assfucked right next to me, but her guy hasn't come yet, so I lie underneath the plunging cock, watching it disappear again and again up Janie's ass. Finally I pull it out and take a few slurps, then stick it back up inside her. Then the guy moans, and the first spurt goes inside Janie, but the second coats the outside of her asshole and drips on my face, and I open wide just in time for a third spurt that he somehow manages to aim perfectly right in my mouth. I sputter some semen out and then run my tongue over Janie's dripping asshole. I get fucked hard in the ass again by the last guy, and this time it's Janie's turn to lie underneath and suck on the guy's balls until he blows a load that lands on both my openings as well as Janie's face. She laps away at the little streams running down over my pussy.

All of this has happened so fast that by this time, we're only maybe fifteen minutes into the movie.

Janie and I stand up and go our separate ways again. For a brief second I think of the dark friction room and all the doctors and lawyers.

This time I click-clack over to the bar, where several guys are nursing drinks. I'm not even really sure whether they are all "actors," or whether some may just be real customers. I already know that some of the guys in the back will be customers, so why not out here too? Bob and his mind games. I remember Julio showing up by surprise to fuck me as part of my audition.

A naked stripper with long red hair gyrates energetically on the stage inside the bar well, breasts bouncing, as I approach two oriental men on barstools, in business suits no less, both with martini glasses on the bar in front of them. I am intently eyed up and down again. I caress the back of one gentleman's neck softly with one hand and give his crotch a little playful squeeze with the other. I flick his ear with my tongue. Both smile broadly. One cups both my breasts with his hands from behind while the other slips two fingers up my slippery pussy and finger-fucks me for a few moments. With one foot still on the floor, I raise the other high-heeled leg up onto the barstool and lean forward across the bar, grasping the far edge with both hands. A nearly-naked cocktail waitress takes away one of the martini glasses which is empty. Mr. Oriental number one grasps my hips and instantly I've a cock fucking my cunt again. I realize he is still fully dressed, and he's fucking me through just his open fly. It takes less than a minute before he cums all over my ass. I climb down, take his business-suited friend by the hand and lead him off to the friction room adjacent to the VIP area. 

Inside, there are already two strippers, wearing only g-strings, humping away on men seated in the big easy chairs. These guys are also fully dressed – it's supposed to be dry humping only in here. The girls playfully mush their naked breasts in the guys' faces. Nipples are sucked, pussies petted and rubbed, an odd finger inserted. The music has stopped. I seat Mr. Oriental in one of the plush seats and again notice the vinyl cushions. Several of the little tables separating the chairs have little KY bottles strategically placed on them. The music starts up again, although the girls have kept humping even between the songs. The lights and camera are only on me. I unzip my "customer" and go down on him right away. He fucks my mouth. I quickly pull off his pants and we seem to be doing just what the other girls are doing, only he reallyis six inches up my cunt. He's still got on his jacket and tie. I glance over and see that, now in the shadows, the other girls' heads are going up and down in their 'customers' laps. Doctors and lawyers, I'm thinking. Doctors and lawyers.

Another couple enters and occupies a chair two seats away. Sure enough, it's Janie – I should have known. The cum all over her, a lot of it, especially around her mouth, mostly still all wet, is just outrageous. It doesn't take her long, and in about two seconds she's already riding this guy, bouncing away and squealing like only she can. I also become aware of several men who have entered the room behind us and that a queue has now formed in the friction room entrance and out into the lounge. I think I can see where all this is headed. I stop riding my guy and whisper, "in the ass." I reposition myself, he lubes us up with the KY, and I let his pole slide up into my rectum. We position ourselves sideways so we can lean back, legs extended over the arm onto the neighboring seat. My ass already neatly impaled, my pussy is now wide open to all comers. They say nature abhors a vacuum, and it takes all of about ten seconds for this particular one to be filled. It's sandwich city, with who knows how many guys in line still holding the "mayo."

There is busy squirming and sliding in and out of both my holes while I open my mouth and this third cock fucks my throat. I don't suck, I just allow him to fuck it. Once you get the knack of this it's really easy; you just breathe through your nose. The trick is to not gag.

I finally get the first load in my mouth and I do swallow some, but I get most of it to spill out for the camera and it coats my lips and chin again. Great. I'm still sandwiched, and all of a sudden another cock unloads on my face, catching me unaware. Now I've got cum streaks in my hair, some in one ear, and some on the forehead. I realize the first of the "doctor-lawyer"queue has entered the fray. The camera, focused mainly on my mouth and holes, won't get the men's faces and the cameras, by design, will never pick up on this. The audience will never realize there were any "extras" providing additional fire power.

The guy in my pussy pulls out and spurts all over my belly and breasts. Another cock replaces that one. I've got a new one in my mouth too. They pound away. I do the best I can to move, but I've still got this oriental businessman's cock up my ass, so it's difficult. I get a load in the pussy. The camera closes in for the cream-pie shot to catch the cum dripping out of my cunt onto the cock in my ass. I'm slurping away and am rewarded with another gooey deposit on my face. The small room just reeks of sex – of semen and pussy juice and sweat, and the music keeps thumping away. I unimpale myself and finally just suck this guy off until he comes in my mouth. I hold my face two inches from his and let his cream ooze out over my lips and chin and down onto his hundred-dollar silk tie.

Just as I see that Janie is doubly penetrated on her back two seats away, two guys unload on her face at the same time. Cum drips off her nose and chin.  I go over and sit on her face. She gets a load inside her pussy and the camera duly catches her seeping cream pie. She gets up off the cock in her ass and together we run our tongues up and down it, each slurping in turn. It's in my mouth when it starts to spurt, but Janie manages to get close enough to get a good part of the goo on her lips too. We exchange this mouthful of the sticky white stuff several times before still another load lands on our intertwined tongues. We kiss, spreading all this jizz over both our faces when two more men add five or six more shots to this warm sticky mess. Doctors and lawyers.

The lashes of both my eyes are now so matted together I can barely see. Janie's face is so covered in cum that she also can barely open her eyes. I wipe some cum off her eyelashes so she can see again, and she does the same for me.

Just for fun, we lie down on the floor and sixty-nine each other for a few moments. Some of the cum on my face winds up in and on Janie's pussy, and vice-versa.

I sense some murmuring. The queue is getting impatient. Even at this pace we can't take these loads fast enough. I kneel again, straddling Janie's face, like we did earlier on the stage. Immediately I am being fucked again doggie style, while Janie sucks on this guy's balls. Her legs are lifted up, a cushion slid under her, and another cock shoved up her pussy. We are fucked this way for half a minute or so when the guy fucking me tenses up, groans, pulls out of me and cums in Janie's open mouth. Then the guy fucking her stops just in time to allow me to finish him off with a couple of deep in and out slurps and I get another load all over my face. We repeat this sequence three times, each getting three more good facials and finally making a small dent in the queue.

Now I decide to concentrate on cream pies for awhile, but I really need a beer and change of scenery. I head out of the friction room, temporarily leaving the queue behind, and over to the bar. "Beer please," I murmur to the bartender, and I chug the whole thing down - I'm so thirsty. It's ice cold and briefly replaces the taste of cum. Then in front of two other guys on barstools, I climb up onto the bar itself and spread wide for them. In no time one of them is fucking me right on the bar while the bartender watches. I let him cum fully in my pussy and the semen drips out and forms a little translucent white puddle on the stainless steel. Someone is right there – I think it's good old Margie - and hand-held camera flashes fire away.

"Anyone for sloppy seconds?" I ask, and three more guys immediately materialize. I'm fucked and cummed in again twice and each time the camera flashes away at the creamy oozing out of my cunt onto the bar. While this is going on, someone climbs up on the bar and pushes a cock in my mouth so as few orifices as possible will go to waste. I suck briefly, but then stop and jerk him off over my face with both hands until he explodes and paints my lips and chin and sends two streaks down onto my breasts. 

When these four guys are all done, I climb down from the bar and head back to the friction room. I even remember to "strut," like a runway model although they generally tend not to have semen running down their inner thighs.

They're still going at Janie gangbusters in the friction room. In my absence one of the other girls apparently has either been unable to resist, or has been instructed to join in, just as those two young coeds did back at the theatre-in-the-round. She's now sixty-nining with Janie. The girl's pussy is covered with cum off Janie's face, and her face covered with cum from Janie's pussy. There's really no way to tell if any of the cum on this girl got there by the "direct" route or not.

I realize there's so much cum-power still waiting in the wings that George has decided another girl or two would help dissipate it. Whatever. Hey, more girls, better movie, am I right? We get our paycheck anyway. I get my answer when this other girl, tongue still flicking away in Janie's sopping cunt, gets her pretty face plastered with her own gooey load. Direct route all right.




The California Trip Ch. 02



I see horizontal erections aimed at us all around the room. Little sticky strings hang down from my chin and my pussy is still seeping, but all I have to do is bend over and someone has already shoved another cock up me from the rear. I love doggie – it rubs my clit just right. And all that cum inside is even better than the lubricant my cunt makes. I start panting again. The cock plunges in me again and again all the way to the hilt, it's so slippery I'm getting near again, closer, closer, oh God, closer, oh don't stop, oh he's coming too, it's spurting, don't stop, harder, harder, my pussy is so full of cum now, oh ram it in me, ram it, yessssss, ohhhhhhhh, oooooooo, fuck, oh fuck, yeah, ooohhhhhhhhhh. Geez!

Whew...

I sit in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, legs splayed open and draped over the arms of the chair, and this time I take it up front, but it's good, it's very good. Another guy stands over me so I can use my mouth on him. Where's Janie? I see her two seats over; she's bouncing on one guy, reverse cowgirl style and sucking on two guys at once. The camera loves that cowgirl position because the girl's legs are spread so wide and you can see that cock really penetrating up into the girl all the way. Still bouncing, Janie receives a particularly creamy load on her face, then almost immediately a second much milkier one. The glistening mixture runs down both sides of her neck. Down below she gets the outside of her slit covered and a couple of additional spurts leave two long white streaks on her belly.

I move to the floor over a guy and fuck him in a squatting position. I'm nudged forward, my breasts on his chest, and it's major dp time again. A cock pops through my anal ring and slides its way downward until the guy's pubic bone is actually against my ass. The cock slides up and down in me no more than ten or twelve times before I feel the massive load spurting up in there. That first cock has gone in slowly, but now my sphincter is more stretched and relaxed and the next ones slide in relatively effortlessly. In fairly quick succession I get three more hot loads up the ass, while I'm still on this one guy lying on his back. In this position the poor guy can hardly move at all and hasn't been able to cum, but I make up for it now with my bouncing once my asshole is free again. He finally explodes upward deep inside my pussy but I keep fucking him anyway as hard as I can even after he's done cumming. 

I finally stand up and feel semen trickling out of both holes and down both legs. Yes, I try to notice if a camera is handy to get this before I stand up, but it's Margie with the camera and she anticipates like a champ, so I needn't have worried. Someone whispers in my ear that George wants the finale on the main stage instead of in the friction room. I can see why, because it's way too cramped in here with the girls, too many men, and both the video and still cameras, and the lights. It's between songs again and I hear the deejay announcing, "now back on the main stage, Cassandra and Willow. I remember something about a "fusillade for the grande finale."

We "strut" from the friction room, again through the VIP area, and up the steps to the rear of the main stage. I sense that the queue is following. I estimate there are nine or ten men in line back in the shadows.

The music starts again. A nude stripper leads Janie to a chair near the front of the stage, sideways to the audience just above the brass-railing steps. I am escorted to a cushion placed immediately in front of Janie's chair. I sit on the cushion, facing her with my head two inches from her crotch and my legs stretched out under the chair. I can comfortably support myself by simply holding the chair's arms. A few feet away on our right and left sit two more lounge chairs, also in profile to the audience. On each chair a naked girl has positioned herself lying head down, belly against the back rest, resting with her elbows on the seat cushion and her pubis supporting her lower body on the back of the chair. It's obvious to me what is about to happen.

We are going to watch these girls gang-fucked by each guy in succession to the verge of cumming, and then Janie and I will be the lucky recipients of the end result of their efforts. It's very clever, just like George. And Bob.

Janie spreads her legs very wide, knees slightly above the horizontal due to the six-inch heels. Squeals already emanate from behind Janie's chair, where I see two high-heeled legs being held high by the ankles, and this girl's body lurching rhythmically as someone pumps away from behind, and I can also hear the "unh, unh, unh" sounds out of the other girl getting herself fucked behind me.

I see the four guys with whom I started the night's activities still sitting at the same front row table. Suddenly they get up one by one and start up the front steps to the stage. They're naked and very conspicuously more than ready again, and I realize we are not going to get just the remaining queue from the friction room, but everyone left in the lounge as well, regardless of who may have fucked us already. I wonder if even the two bartenders, the deejay, and the bouncers, will join in too. I wouldn't put it past Bob and his mind games. For all I know, maybe the cocktail waitresses will fuck a guy or too as well.

The girl behind Janie is already on her second guy. Number one rushes over, and fires the first load right between Janie's spread legs. The shiny cream coats her mound and the outside of her pussy. I know what I'm supposed to do. My tongue parts her lips and cum runs over it and onto my chin. I stick my tongue in all the way and shake my head a little and immerse myself in her. There are rapid footsteps behind me, a groan, and warm spurts land between my eyes, the only part of my face available with my mouth still buried in Janie's cunt. I gurgle around in the froth and Janie closes her long legs around my head. I flick furiously with my tongue exactly the way I know she loves. She's got her head back, mouth open, eyes closed, back arched, she's going to cum – I know it. "Ooooohh, she moans, "ooooooooooh, unnnnh, unnnnnh, aaaaaaaaaaooooh! I lap her as fast as I can - she's gonna cum again "Oh God," Janie practically screams this time, "oh geeeeez, oh God, unnnnh, oooooohhh, unnnnnh, oooooooooooooohhh!

For a few moments there are no more cumshots, and I come up for air. I am aware that some of the guys on stage are starting to stroke themselves, though the camera will never see that. Even the two girls won't get all these guys ready in the time we have left, or we're going to have a three hour movie! More guys are getting up from tables and moving toward the stage.

The girls have finished with their third guys now, and Janie's cunt and my face each get blasted once and I mush around in her pussy again. The fourth guy fucking the girl behind Janie stays in her for one thrust too many and his cum paints the outside of her pussy. Four more guys have gotten ready on their own and we get three more copious shots right into the merged sticky mess that a few minutes ago was this girl's face and her girlfriend's cunt. Janie herself gets the fourth load completely unexpectedly in and all over her open mouth. She sputters and licks strings of cum from her lips.

We change places. My eyelashes are matted and stuck together again, and I can't see, so I have to wipe both eyes. I sit in the chair and open my legs like Janie did, and her face is now in my triangle.

We're bombarded again non-stop. I get one between the legs and, oh wow, a really big messy one on my face. I wasn't ready for that - always a wise guy somewhere. Janie's face is buried in me, eating me out for all she's worth. A barrage of several more streams hit her virtually simultaneously from different angles and cascade over her face but she doesn't stop for a second. Now you can't tell where her face ends and my sex begins.

I'm beginning to feel like I want to cum again, but this isn't doing it for me that way. I suddenly need to be fucked again, hard. I separate myself from Janie's sticky face and edge over to one of the other chairs where I can change places with the girl with the cum between her legs.

It's now me head-downward on the chair with my own ankles held high and my pussy getting pounded. "Cum inside me," I whisper, "please, I know what I'm doing." Obligingly, it takes only a few more thrusts before I feel the throbbing and warm spurting inside my cunt. In this position the cum can't drip out, and instead will all pool in there. I wonder how many loads my vagina will hold. Ever the writer, I'm conjuring these ridiculous alliterations like "countless coital culminations collect inside my cunt," or "four fornications' finishes fully fill my fuckhole," or something to that effect. It's really weird - I don't know how these things suddenly pop into my head.

What this guy is doing right now feels really good, my little clit decides it likes it a lot too, and I'm going to blossom again – warmer, warmer, it's rising, higher, keep going faster, faster, oh do it hard, hard, fuck me, fuck me, oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes, fuck me, oooooohhhhh, ooooooooooohhhhhh, unnnnh, unnnnhhhhh, oooooooooooo, fuck yes!

Another load up in there; another cock pumping away, I'm not sure I can cum again. Maybe. Several more warm spurts land on my face and warm semen runs down into my mouth again. A third guy unloads a shuddering orgasm inside my pussy – it's all still in there except what might well out with all that pumping. I try to concentrate on the furious fucking, but my mind is alliterating again; "the pulsing pecker probes my pouting pussy...six strapping studs stuff my sopping snatch...copious cocks cram Cassandra's cummy crease."

I receive a fourth load in my cunt.

I had no idea you had to be in this kind of shape for stuff like this, and I hate to admit it but I'm starting to get tired.

"Willow," I yell, "come over here right now, I've got something for you." 

I don't know what Janie was doing, because, never mind her face, she's now got cum all over her front too – breasts, belly, thighs, everywhere. "Lie down, head here, I point to the floor in front of me." 

Janie obliges and I slide down the chair, and roll forward off it, my face in her crotch, so we are immediately in a sixty-nine. Four loads of carefully-collected cum cascade out my cunt onto Janie's face. She opens her mouth and a good part of the gloop runs inside. She sputters and gurgles and forces some out through clenched teeth. She's blowing more bubbles through the frothy mess with every breath, and she's till playing with all this cum with her tongue when she gets still two more creamy deposits on her mouth and face. Then someone else comes over and unloads on her pussy so I get a second chance to bury my own face in the stuff. I roll slightly to my right to free up Janie's froth-covered cunt for anyone who wants to fuck it. There are immediate multiple takers, all already on the verge from off-camera stroking. It takes only a few seconds before a new fuckload is quickly deposited completely up inside her; then she's screwed a second, third and fourth time in rapid succession and each time I get to eat the cum oozing out of her. I push it back into her with my tongue, and I eat her out again, letting more cum seep out, then pushing it back in over and over.

Janie changes places with the other girl, and I know she wants to repay me the favor. Head-down in the chair, Janie is fucked again and again until she slides herself down and this time it's my face that gets flooded by not four, but five big loads that for a moment flow together like a small river out of her cunt. That's Janie, always has to be a show off.

There are just two guys left now, so we each take one. I try to deep-throat this cock and actually manage to get it all the way down without gagging. It's cool. I suck him off to completion and I hold his penis six inches away as he cums on my forehead and into my hair. For the first time tonight I smile into the camera and run my tongue three hundred sixty degrees around my sticky mouth and lick cum off my chin. Janie, bless the girl, takes her last cumload directly in the mouth and sputters and gurgles and dribbles it out one last time. She opens her mouth and there are all these little adherent strings of cum between the roof of her mouth and her lips and tongue, and finally she sticks her tongue way out, mouth still open, droops her shoulders, and sighs, as if to say "whew, I've had it!"

"OK, I hear George holler,"Okay everybody, cut, it's a wrap. Great job everyone. We've got a good one in the can." The clock on the wall shows 4:43 AM. The whole thing has taken just over an hour and a half. 

The sound system is turned off, the house lights are turned up, and everyone is milling about. Guys are giving each other high fives. There are naked guys walking around, some others are partly dressed. Several guys tell me "great job, enjoyed it," or something like that. I get a whole bunch of high fives. I spot the two Mr. Oriental's in their business suits, one with cum stains around his fly, the other with an expensive silk tie he'll never wear again, although he might just frame it. I recognize a few faces from the studio, but most are new. I don't see either Julio or Big Willy. Who might the professional athlete have been – was it someone we all know? I'll most likely never recognize any of the people I have just fucked, or whose cum I've swallowed or am still wearing, except for the two Mr. Orientals and Blondie, the very first guy. It's a curious sensation, looking around the room, and having no idea with whom you've just done what. Whatever. What difference does it make?

The doctors and lawyers, car dealer franchise owner, athlete, and the others at last have their trophy experience! Problem is, it's like the proverbial golfer playing alone when he scores a hole-in-one - they can't tell anyone about it! And although they will get to see their hard dicks in the movie, most won't even to be able to tell which one is his!

Janie's a few tables away, surrounded by several guys, some clothed, some not. Hugs are exchanged. I go over to join them. I don't bother to "strut." anymore. Janie is just totally streaked and caked. The cum from an hour ago has long-since dried, but the recent stuff still glistens. It's all over her face, in her hair, breasts, on her mound, down her legs, everywhere. I'm sure I don't look any different. Margie, eternally with her hand camera, gets the two of us to pose for a few last smiley photos, though I know all she really wants are some last precious cum-coated pictures before we can shower.

The two girls who joined in the movie come by and we all exchange hugs, and I see for the first time how really pretty they are. Both long-haired brunettes, they introduce themselves as Candi and Chloe, but who knows if those are real names. I personally doubt it. One still has cum between her legs, and the other apparently has somehow managed to collect some on her face, so I feel a kind of camaraderie. I guess it's a girl thing.

George comes over and congratulates us. "Couldn't have been better," he exclaims excitedly, "you guys gave us just what we were looking for. This is going to set a standard."

Then here's Natasha herself. "I vatch whole ting," she tells us. "You dance goot, very goot. You sexy girls. She touches wet cum on my left breast and looks me in the eye. "De utter stuff you do, vow! Dat all I can say. Maybe you two giff me lessons, ya?" From her it's a real compliment and I'm wondering if just maybe she could be serious.

We pass and Bob and Ellis Inman by the bar on our way to the locker room. We've made no effort to cover up and some cum still glistens on us. Everyone grins. I'm parched and so is Janie, and cold beers are passed around. We all clink bottles.

"You two look beautiful," Bob says, studying the various sticky deposits on our glistening curvaceous bodies. "You think we could parley this look into a line of body paint?"

Janie says, "We might be able to get the university student co-op store to carry it." 

"Now you're talking," says Bob, "but more to the point, you guys exceeded our wildest expectations. You could be stars in this business, even really famous if you want to be, the sky's literally the limit. Movies, trade shows, product lines, no limit. I can promise you that."

I'm the first to answer him.

"It's not the career I really want, Bob, but I can't speak for Janie. I've had a real blast – truly enjoyed every minute, and I wouldn't give the experience up for anything, but I'm anxious to get back to my studies. I'll write about our experiences out here, and I wouldn't rule out doing something like this again once in awhile, but for now it'll have to be a little naughty part of my otherwise real life."

"I've had a great time too, Bob" Janie tells him. "It's probably the most fun I've ever had, and I wouldn't say no to anything right now. I have to do some thinking about this, but I'm really, really tempted. I know Amy, and I know how she feels, and that's great, but I'm different in certain ways. I'm probably willing to put myself out more for money than she is, and I already know for sure I'll never make more money with my degree than I can make with you. So yeah, let's talk about this some more before I go back east."