erotica“Jake, I have an idea.”

Jake felt his stomach drop on hearing the voice and these words. He turned to confirm it was Vance Vincent coming down the hall towards him. “Your ideas aren’t usually good ones; you do know this.”

Vance ran a hand through his puff of brown hair standing up as though not touched after rolling out of bed. “You mean the cliffside car scene?”

“Where the insurance drilled us after the car exploded at the bottom, yeah. There’s that one, or the one with Melanie suspended over the staircase, or how about the cheap lights surrounding a king bed?”

His eyes rolled upwards before Vance found a response. “Okay, true. This is nothing like those at all.”

Jake glanced into his office, already longing to escape and close the door. His eyes returned to Vance, and for just a moment he swore he was looking at Arthur Fonzarelli.

As a porn actor, Vance was okay with a decent physique, good-sized penis, strong stamina, and control. As an accountant and controller of Jake’s books, Vance was excellent; albeit a touch shady. Most of his porn career was as a hired cock, but he had headlined two films that banked on his similar looks to Henry Winkler. Unfortunately, being the Fonz had been off the air for a few decades, both “Happy Babes” and “Cum Into My Office” bombed.

A sigh escaped Jake’s chest. “I will regret this, but different how?”

Vance smiled.

***

“And…ACTION!” Jake dropped his hand to signal Clark to start filming.

Clark moved in close.

Jake felt Clark was lucky to be deaf in this instance. That Clark didn’t have to listen to the dialogue Vance wrote for the scene was a slight blessing.

“Madame Cumonya, I am already aware of three past lives,” Dick Drummond said his line unconvincingly.

Becky Bottoms fluttered her eyelashes at him and wiggled her long fingernails in a weak attempt to appear mystical. “Do tell, child. Have you traveled back in time to see what you have been?” She wore a scoop neck black blouse that allowed a good cleavage shot.

“I was one of Joan of Arc’s soldiers.”

Becky moved forward, setting her elbows on the tiny round table between the actors. “This is delicious. And the other?”

The pink tablecloth swayed with its tassels brushing the cement floor.

Jake was impressed as Becky was good with the part. The night before he had sent her home with a DVD of “Stardust” and told her he wanted her to play it like Michelle Pfeiffer as one of the witches. She had obviously followed his instructions.

Unfortunately, Dick had not. “And the other was when I was a penis.”

Jake cringed at the line.

Becky succeeded in a confused look. “A penis?”

Jake had given Dick a copy of Stardust as well, but his instructions were to watch DeNiro’s Captain Shakespeare and drive the part from that. With this performance combined with the smell of beer on Dick’s breath when he arrived on set, Jake did not believe his suggestion was followed.

“Yeah, and I belonged to a stud. Many guys think their cock has a mind of its own, and I think I am proof.”

“A stud? How would you possibly know?”

“I have a lot of memories of it being light and then dark very suddenly. It was light! It was dark! It was light! It was dark!”

Becky blinked and glanced to her left.

A pang of concern hit Jake that she may have forgotten the line, not that it was a good joke anyway.

She found the words. “Are you sure you weren’t a subway car?”

“I can demonstrate.” Dick stood up, causing the chair beneath him to squeak on the floor.

Jake shuddered and made a mental note to edit the chair sound out.

Becky smiled and stood as well. Her chair made no sound. “Please do.” Her long red and black skirt swayed at her ankles, allowing the first hint of well-heeled thigh-high boots underneath.

Dick wrapped his left hand around her right wrist and pulled her around the table towards him. “First, we will need some foreplay as my little man requires stimulation before he can perform.”

He was looking at the black ceiling before Jake realized the line made his eyes roll.

They kissed hard and fast as if it were a race to get beyond it. Dick pulled down the scoop to reveal her natural breasts.

Becky gave the appropriate moans as Dick suckled her nipples and squeezed the surrounding breast areas.

Dick pushed her down to sit on the table and began pulling up her dress.

The table creaked.

“Oh, shit,” Jake whispered and began moving forward. His next word was to be “cut,” but he never got it out in time.

A hint of thigh flesh above the top of her boots was caught in Clark’s lens as he crouched to get a better look. His camera then found a beautiful action shot of the table crumbling and Dick surging forward on top of Becky, driving his shoulder into her chest upon the cement floor.

Vince McMahon would have been impressed.

Becky screamed.

Dick was on his feet. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“CUT!” Jake finally got out. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Clark laughed as he stopped the camera and turned to Jake.

“I’m going to kill Vance for that cheap table.” Jake shook his head.

Clark’s hands moved fast, signing at Jake.

Jake rolled his eyes and signed back while speaking, “Yeah, the dialogue was worse than the table.”

“I’m sorry,” Dick repeated as he helped Becky off the ground.

She clutched her chest and looked softly up at him right before her left hook connected with his chin.

Jake’s head slumped, not wanting to watch the ensuing brawl. “Do you think this ever happen to Rian Johnson?” he asked anyone that might be listening.

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