Come On, Sweet Thing Ch. 01

Anna, another leggy blonde asked, "Can't you or someone teach us to have an edge?"

"I'm trying to give you an overview but I'm not a power broker. I don't have the magic touch or an eye for success. A Spielberg can see scenes, people and action in his mind that you and I have to see five times at the movies to comprehend all the action and perfection that he saw before the camera started to roll. No, Pretty One, I'm a bit player and have been for much longer than you have been alive. That is the best I'll ever do and I love it. Ninety percent of those you see in this town, never made it as far as me. The big movie stars are so rare, we can remember their names from the millions who have tried to succeed in Hollywood, or Bollywood, or in Europe's movies or in China's movies , or in Hong Kong's movies."

Cassie was eating again, "All that is frightening."

"It is and being frightened is just another way to fail. Being taken, believing in charlatans, seeking short cuts are all ways to fail. You ladies have picked the most competitive business in the world. Now decide to play by its rules or pick something else."

Aubrey piped up, "What are you going to torture us with tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I am going to pick an ugly, fat, sweaty man and have each of you come onto him on film. We'll see, if you can convince the rest of us that you really want him because he is rich and powerful."

Carol a dripping, hot spinner, who I had wanted since she showed up asked, "Don't we get to do scenes with handsome leading men?"

"Clark Gable was rumored to have horrible teeth and breath. He was a very successful leading man. Others were drunks, very short, had trouble remembering lines, etc. Some male porn stars wash out because they can't get it up on cue, so they cost you money and time by keeping you away from your next shoot. What kind of leading man did you have in mind? Steve Reeves was Superman, he killed himself. The old contract stars are dead or in homes. Regular people make movies, not super people. Who do you want to have a scene with? I'll call him and ask for you."

The snickers went around the fire. There was no more discussion. Aubrey came to me.

"Do you think I can pull off the scenes you gave me?"

"If you let yourself go, you will be perfect. Play it a thousand times in your head, so you will not be afraid of anything new. It will be old hat and almost boring, when the filming starts. You'll have to pump yourself up and fake your best orgasm on the back of the horse. I've watched you do it riding me. I wanted to believe I was good enough to make you cum like that but I was never sure."

"You made me cum plenty."

"Every time you screamed out my name or hissed "Yesssss?"

"Well, No."

"Do it for the camera when Russ Carroll tells you to. He wants to succeed as much as you do. Do a good job for him and he'll be on your side for another scene."

"Coming to bed tonight?"

"No, you go ahead."

"Why not?"

"I like you and your body too much. I've let it go now. You could claim me easily again. I'm more in the relationship phase of life; I need to know my lady will be there when I get home. You are career building. I could never count on you."

She walked alone back to the house. She had nothing to say. She knew I was right.

Sunday morning went well. All the girls could seduce any living thing and French kiss Roy's horse, if necessary. We broke early and I called Russ, "You will have ten women at your door tomorrow morning. Give them all a fair shot. Really consider Aubrey for episode one, she is a natural, if she is not too nervous."

"Now, are you directing and casting?"

"Call me at the end of the day."

Monday night Russ arrived with a Jeroboam of Louis Roederer Cristal Champagne and a smile that lit up the night.

"They were all perfect for one scene or another that you have written. How did you do that?"

"You haven't proposed to any of them, have you? There are supposed to be 12 episodes, we've only roughed out four."

"No, I haven't proposed but I can see success."

"You don't pay the bills. Get it on film - get three out to the public and three more in the can. Then get one of the really big assholes to pick up the series for another year or two."

"Here drink this. I need to get you really drunk. So far you are the series. The scenes, the dialog, the location, the casting. Sure you can't fuck on screen?"

"That, I'm really sure about."

--------------------------------

In a couple of weeks, Stinky asked me to come on the corporate offices to talk with the producers. The first episodes were testing well at Showtime. There was enough tongue-in-cheek humor to make the series sound different and not look as hokey as many of the porn series. The rapid pace of three scenes in thirty minutes, kept viewers from yawning through the usual long, show-nothing, faked sex scenes. All the fresh, new faces helped.

Lorraine Lane stole my heart for two years, almost twenty years ago. Back then, she was just past the age that she would be noticed in the movies, but she was bright, learned fast and had good business sense. She helped me run my business and I was thinking serious until one day she asked me to help her find a job in the business side of Hollywood. I had one good contact in production management of a possible new TV series called "Married with Children." Some Executive Producer glommed onto her. She moved out with another piece of my heart. Hell, by then I only had small pieces left anyway. Soon, I heard she had moved in with the Executive Producer. That was ancient history, but today, there standing behind Stinky was Lorraine; she was dressed like a stern, Librarian with rimmed glasses, straight gray skirt, tight bun and all. After the initial introductions a meeting was set to begin in thirty minutes. In the mean time, Lorraine walked over to me.

"Hi, Ike, I thought the scripts had a familiar ring to them."

"Lorraine, you are as beautiful as ever, but why the get-up?"

"This is who I am, now; I'm one of the assistant executive producers for this series."

"My God, this couldn't be much lower budget, how much management is needed."

Of course, I didn't get any response to that, so I kept teasing, "The get up doesn't matter; I have a good memory; I know who you really are when you get out from under your disguise. You and that hot body almost killed me a few times."

"My, you do have a good memory. That was a long time ago."

"I'm crushed. Don't you have just a few pleasant memories from way back then, once upon a time?"

"Well, if I think really hard, maybe a couple."

Right on time and right on cue, my request was answered, a really big asshole, Tom Coltranne, swaggered in to start the meeting. For fifteen minutes, he postured and bragged; then, he pulled me out of the meeting, leaving everyone behind. I had never met the man but he started with his arm around my shoulders, "Ike, we are trying something new. We're doing three series at one time to save money. Your scripts for the lead series are a fairly good start, we want to follow that with an old time serial on stunt people's lives and follow that with another thirty minutes of soft-porn about the business "Like the 'Seymore Butts' series was but not so family oriented, more single man on the make. We loaded the management and writing staff early, so we could evaluate the talent and cut it in half about now. We need edgy."

I hated this part of the business, it was pure sleaze. Still I played; it was time, I added to the conversation and made him feel important, "Edgy, how, Mr. Coltranne? Do you want to push the censors, the story lines or a little of both?"

"You catch on fast. We're going to get along. I want to do anything we can for ratings and market share."

"The second thirty could be a mystery show with porn mixed in. I think the weakness of such shows has been the writing. Maybe, styled on the movie, "LA Confidential," an LA cop who knows the business and investigates crimes inside; a third generation flatfoot who can flash back to old cases -- black and white, Bogart style, over fifty years, whatever, set is cheap and not being used."

"Thoughts to save money are good. Our writers are not seasoned enough for that glib, smart-ass style."

"For a few episodes, let me tell them what to write. They are right out of school and used to doing what the teacher says. We might get a few freebies."

"You think like a producer. I like that."

"Which executive assistants will survive and who'll be cut?"

"To the point. That's good. You were talking to Lorraine. Sorry, she will be cut, not mean enough to survive."

He rattled on for a while. His choices were "yes men," I expected that. I needed his support and some latitude. I learned to slip buy such men, thirty years ago. When he finished, I started,

"Mr. Coltranne, I need some admin help, to pull together a contracted acting ensemble, keep track of your baby writers and secure the scripts. I've worked with Lorraine on business issues before. Will you grease the skids for me to get her to come out to my Culver City ranch and help me keep the office in order? She can help us set up a list of approved actors and support techs. We can bind them to a shooting year and see how everyone pulls off your great idea of three thirties shot under one thirty's slightly extended budget. Lorraine can keep them all on schedule, clean and organized. I saw her work at that level. She was good. You are right; she is not ready for your high-pressure world, heading up a show."

I came out as head writer and casting director with authority to organize the acting part of the production company. We didn't talk about salary. He'd have to pay scale and we were an unproven entity. Lorraine was finishing wiping her last tear when I came up behind her, "Lorraine, did Mr. Coltranne ask you for me? I know it is not the level of work that you are used to doing, but will you help me for a while, until you find something else?"

"Cut the crap, Ike. You don't have to talk to me like you do him. Of course, I'll work for you. I don't have anything else and I have to eat and pay the rent."

"Rent's cheap at my place. No expectations. You'll just be closer, so I can get more work time out of you."

"Damn, it's nice to talk to a straight shooter again."

"I'll leave that line alone for now. Do you remember my numbers?"

"Yes, they are on my cell."

"You haven't used them for years. You must have been satisfied a lot. Use one tomorrow and let's set up a schedule for next week. I want everything in place by a week from Friday and then production starts the following Monday."

"That's too fast."

"I can do it. Maybe you have gotten soft."

"I can do it too, you asshole."

"Hey, I've moved up to management."

Lorraine laughed at me. It was good to hear her laugh and watch her responsive Ds wiggle. She moved in to my place, took over a room as her office/bedroom and dug in. She had been around. She took our ten core "actresses," ballooned them to twenty, gathered enough "older" women to fill our need for madams, soon to be replaced wives, secretaries and cougars. She quickly gathered quite a stable of studs. I wondered if she had been auditioning for a while.

We decided to set up an old time filming compound at my horse ranch. We brought in three bunkhouse trailers, set up a military style chow hall/kitchen, two tents to house sets and equipment and allowed any crew members to camp if they wanted to. The idea was to really produce a lot of episodes quickly. The writers took over my living room, den and dining room.

After only a few days, administratively, the initial plots and the first few scenes were going along marvelously but I was worried and Lorraine noticed it. She rounded up Stinky and they cornered me out by the pool very early on our seventh production day.

I saw them stalking me and invading my space, "What did I do wrong now? I haven't seen you two together since we started this."

Lorraine spoke first, "You tell us. Everything seems to be going along great, but you are not your usual energetic, overly positive, head in the clouds, playful self."

"I promised Tom Coltranne that our work would start pushing the censors, he wants edgy. Our story lines and output are great for launching and getting on the air, but I can't seem to come up with ideas that will be "edgy" and still get by the censors. He's given us a blank check so far. Unless we can show him what he is looking for, he is going to start backing away and we'll just become another 'also ran.'"

Stinky didn't have his imagination going this early, "What do you think he wants? We can easily give him, flashes of cock, an asshole shot or a dripping open pussy still reaching for an out-of-frame cock."

"Your ideas are close, Stinky, but we have to figure out how to creep up on them. We actually have to bet Coltranne will like something enough to challenge the powers and actually fight for it to make late night TV. We need to get the publics' attention, so they put clips on the internet and the world knows what to watch next week. We'll only get one or two tries."

My concerned visitors were no help. We all needed to get back to work. "Stinky, what are you shooting today?"

"We've changed some outside evening shooting to daytime scenes. Weather man says showers this evening. We had that little spinner and her boyfriend scheduled for a try at your first "Sex in Public" idea this evening but it will probably be rained out."

"I'll be there about sunset. Let's try it anyway, if we can. That scene might give us some new ideas."

----------------------

A few sprinkles had broken up the shoot before, Ike arrived. Carol, the little spinner, had been dating Eric, one of the male porn stars, even prior to her audition with Stinky. They melted into the low thin Manzanita when the shoot was canceled, while everyone was scurrying to get the equipment under tarps. The clouds were patchy dark things, covering most of the darkening blue sky. Sun beams reached brightly down from dozens of cloud breaks. At that exact moment, Ike's path led by a peek-a-boo slit in the bushes and he could see Eric thrusting into a willing, widely spread Carol. She was so tiny beneath his gym-toned body that only her legs showed. Ike waved frantically at Jim Holder, a digital camera man; he had worked with dozens of times. Ike pointed through the bushes and Jim began to capture the beauty of their love making through the leaves.

Ike walked around the clearing and spoke to the lovebirds, "Carol, Eric this is Ike Jones. Don't stop. This is part of the shoot. Follow my instructions. There was a very noticeable pause in the action that would have to be edited out, but these lovers were experienced and well into seeking their pleasure.

"Roll him over, Carol, so you are on top."

The slightly damp soil clung in spots on her pale skin and was in her nearly platinum blond hair. By now, a few other people from the camp had gathered behind Ike to see what was going on. Ike whispered to one man, "Get me a big pail of water." The water arrived just as a cloud burst did. Big drops hit the two hot thrusting bodies, making patterns on their dust and dirt covered skin. Ike directed Jim to film a shot of the coming storm. As Jim followed instructions, Ike stepped forward and poured the water into the dirt under Eric. Eric's hands immediately went into the mud puddle to feel what had happened.

"Keep your hands by your sides, Eric." Jim's lens returned to the action. Carol was almost there, in-spite-of being filmed. Her eyes were closed, her body thrust long and hard, taking all of her guy. There was no doubt that she was penetrated and eagerly taking all that he had to give her.

"Show us you are a spinner, Carol. Don't let him out of your body; spin around, so you are facing his feet."

They had done this before. Carol barely missed a stroke as she spun around smoothly spreading mud with her knees and feet. Her hands came to rest on Eric's knees, she leaned forward and found the perfect angle to use his cock to molest her clit and poke into her magic spot.

"Reach up, Eric, touch her back. Touch one of her breast. Let your hands slide down to hold her hips. Now, she needs your help, she is getting tired but she wants to cum and does not want to stop, even if she is tender, until she makes you cum deep in her belly."

The two lovers had gone with the fantasy. They wanted to be directed. It was something new to heighten their climax. Carol began to thrust for her release. Eric lifted his legs enough so his feet sunk into the mud when he thrust up, lifting her, impaling her deeper, helping her. Her pale skin seemed to glow where the rain had washed away the dust. Eric had spread muddy hand prints on her perfect skin. Those black harsh contrasts were beginning to wash away and everyone imagined how the dirt under his gripping hands must be grinding into her tender skin.

Carol whimpered, missed a stroke, then another. Her pretty face was contorted. Her close-up was impossible to fake. Her next thrust was pure pleasure. She cried out into the quiet patter of rain drops. Eric arched higher. His body growled first in power and then in defeat as the tiny body drained him. One last whimper came from her and she wilted forward with one breast on either side of Eric's right leg. By now the shadows were dark in the circle of shrubs. In the fading rays, the final smears of mud and dust washed off of Carol's beauty and Eric lay mired in the mud, his chest heaving still trying to catch his breath.

Ike was on his knees in the mud but he jumped up and barked orders. "Jim, meet me in editing; get Stinky and Lorraine." To no one in particular he continued, "Get some towels and blankets for Carol and Eric. Get them something warm." He went into the tiny clearing, helped Carol up, oblivious to Eric's cock slipping out of her and a stream of cum flowing down her thigh. He helped Eric up. He hugged them both; told them how beautiful they were and how special what they had done was. He thanked them several times. No one really understood what was going on inside Ike, but he sure was happy.

Ike was soaking wet when Lorraine and Stinky showed up at the editing area. Ike had already smoothed two bad transitions and had cued the scene to a larger monitor. Maybe ten or twelve people gathered just inside the door. It is very rare to see excitement on any shoot, much less on a soft-porn shoot.

Just as Ike started to talk, some sanity flashed through him. He took a deep breath and returned to some semblance of professionalism. "Russ, first I want to apologize to you. I am in no way wanting to infringe on your authority as director. Remember what Lorraine, you and I talked about this morning? I stumbled onto Carol and Eric making love as girlfriend and boyfriend. I had a dozen revelations and just lost control telling people what to do. Forgive me and let me show you what ideas I have that you can take and make special."

Lorraine horned in, "Damn it Ike, quit worrying. We've all been friend for decades. What do you have?"

"The editing rules say "simulated sex" and that keeps TV soft core from being anything worth looking at. "Simulated" is a value judgment unless you are on the set to see what actually happened. A lot of "Simulated" is actually done with editing or obviously faked sex. The acting is usually so poor every viewer knows no one actually got off."

"Thanks for calling me "Russ," instead of "Stinky," but where are you going with this?"

"We show everything up until actual penetration, we also show real body and facial climaxes, we use real sounds, we use less music, we use more voyeur camera work in natural light, it's alright, if the light is natural -- we can't show detail anyway. If we have girls who won't do actual sex, edited down to soft-porn, we use them in masturbation segments with a Sybian or something. Here, sit down, watch this scene."