Eric & Will make a B Movie

Eric was standing beside me, and I had an almost uncontrollable urge to reach over and close his mouth. She gave a little laugh, and spoke in almost perfect English.

"Goddess?"

I grinned, still enthralled by her beauty. She had to be over forty, but she carried it extremely well. The girls were right to scatter, they would have been invisible next to her. I bowed slightly. "Yes, my lady, Goddess. Are you not Aphrodite, or Venus, risen from the sea? No mortal could attain your beauty, so ergo, you're a Goddess. I suspect you appear from time to time to show mortals what real beauty is. Sadly, you ruin those in your presence, because mortal females, no matter their attributes, will be pale imitations compared to their memory of you."

Her laugh was like music. "And people say there is no poetry in the soul of Americans. Or are you an exception to the rule?" Her eyes flickered up and down my body. Then she smiled again. "I like you. You amuse me. Tell the truth, what is in your mind right now?"

I looked directly into her eyes. "I was thinking I'd like to be somewhere private with you. I would like to lick the saltwater off your pubic hair, replace it with the juices of our lust, until you screamed in climax, at least twice. Then in a fumbling way not anywhere near the standard you deserve, I'd try my best to give you a fucking worthy of you. That, Goddess, is what is in my mind."

Eric was looking at me like a stranger as the goddess stood before us. I was using a low, crooning voice, a tone I almost never used. The tenderness of my tone belied the vulgar words, but they had the desired effect. Her nipples had popped out while I talked, and her breathing became rapid. She slowly nodded. " You have the gift. I knew I was right to follow my instincts. It is not often one meet a modern day Mage. Your tongue weaves an interesting tapestry of lust and desire, Wizard. Well, I hope your tongue is at good at pleasing me as it is in forming words. I command you, as your Goddess, to follow me, Wordweaver. Worship your Goddess well."

I bowed fully then. "Your servant awaits. Perhaps, Goddess, you'd like my robe? Although such a vulgar garment should be burned for obscuring your beauty. "

She looked down, noticing she was naked while everyone else had at least bottoms on. She smiled even more brightly. "Well, it isn't far to my chambers. But it comes off the second the door closes."

She took my hand and we started walking. We got about fifty feet before she stopped, and turned back to look at Eric. "Apprentice, are you coming? A Goddess should be worshiped by the masses. Don't you agree, Mage?"

His grin almost obscured his face, and he ran to catch up.

She was by far the sexiest, most skilled lover I'd ever had. Her body was flawless, tight and firm where it needed to be, soft and yielding otherwise. I think every woman I'd ever been with, every act of passion before this had been merely training for this moment. I used every trick I'd ever learned to give her pleasure, and she showed me things I never even considered. She whimpered, she howled, she cried. She scratched welts on my back as we mated, bit my shoulder until the blood flowed, manipulating her body in ways I didn't know was possible. I bit bruises on both breasts, put a huge hickey on her neck. Eric sat amazed for almost an hour, just watching. She'd occasionally reach out and stroke him. He'd shut his eyes and moan. I think he set a personal best for maintaining an erection. After almost an hour nonstop, I was done. There was no life left in me.

"Sorry, Goddess, but this mere mortal is finished. May I sacrifice my young friend here to you? He may not be skilled, but he has the ability to learn quickly. At the very least, he'll die smiling"

In essence, she treated him like a bitch. She controlled every action. An hour of watching must have been a big strain because he popped after five minutes of her riding him in reverse cowgirl. He blushed and started to apologize, but she twirled around, still mounted, and touched his lips. "Hush, young one. Let me work my magic. "

She sat still, a frown of concentration on her face. Eric said it was like a hand massaging an udder. He was hard again in four minutes, and she rode him for what seemed forever, until he screamed(like a girl, I thought)and arched into her for a final time. She had a serene little smile on her face, and I wondered if she'd orgasmed at all. Eric just lay there, tears in his eyes, as she strode across the room, the results of her matings glistening down her legs, and got us all a glass of wine. I took it and raised it to her. She smiled and touched her glass to mine.

We sat companionably for a few minutes, not speaking. What could one say to do what just happened justice? The door opened, and a tall, handsome man strode in. He took in the room at a glance and grinned.

"Ah, my dear, you have guests. How rude of me to barge in. Please excuse me."

Eric was staring wideyed, wondering when the violence would begin. I rose naked, and bowed again. "Please, do not bother on our account. We were just going. Too much time in the presence of a Goddess is not good for mortals. We'll take our leave now."

The man smirked, looking at the woman. She actually blushed before her eyes sparkled in merriment. "Yes, apparently he's convinced I'm Aphrodite. And he is a Mage, with his young apprentice. But he speaks truth. Too much magic in such a small space for extended periods of time is not good. Goodbye Wizard. I'm sure we'll meet in another life."

She kissed our cheeks as she ushered us to the door. She whispered something to Eric, creating a full body blush.

We were walking down the beach when he let out a tremendous howl and ran into the water, rolling around like a madman. Finally restraining himself, he came back to our cabana. "Over it now?" I asked, as he shook the water off like a puppy.

"I'll never be over what just happened! It was the most amazing experience of my life! You ARE a Wizard. She said so, and I believe it."

Curiosity got me. "Is that what she whispered to you?"

"Part of it. She said we both have bright auras, and they're even brighter when we're together. She also said as long as I stayed near you, good things would happen."

I laughed. "I think she's drained too much blood away from your head. She's no goddess, just a horny woman that took a chance and it worked out well. I bet right now her husband is balls deep in her while she tells him how she seduced a couple of stupid Americans. And we need to get tested when we get home, we never used condoms. Heat of the moment, I guess."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Believe what you want, man. I think she's right. What just happened wasn't normal, and you know it."

Chapter three

We both agreed nothing could surpass what had just happened, so we packed and left. I'd been typing away on my laptop while Eric dozed. He finally stirred, and asked me what I was working on.

"A new Battle Babe. I haven't introduced a new character in a while, and I think the time is right."

"Let me guess. She'll be hot, horny, another stone cold fox. Describe her."

"Exactly as you said. Olive skin, jet black hair, I think she'll be older than the rest. Might be good for them to have a mother figure."

"Got a name?"

"I'm leaning towards Goddess. What do you think?"

"I think you'll make another million bucks. Thought any more about the screenplay?"

I rolled my eyes. The boy could be relentless. "In the first place, I've never written a screenplay. The best I could do would be write the story, then turn it over to someone who knows what they're doing. And I haven't said that I'd do it yet."

He smirked. "I'll add that to the list. Screen writer. Hopefully someone who can string words together in a comprehensible fashion. Oh, and we'll be filming in Canada."

"Why?"

"Because they have a lot of snow, dumbass. And it's a lot cheaper to film in Canada, I checked. Don't want to blow the budget too soon."

"You know, B movies always have more than one hot bitch in them. After all, the bear has to eat somebody, right? Might as well be somebody hot. Redhead? Brunette?"

His eyes seemed to gleam. "Redhead. It'll make her look better all bloody lying in the snow. And you have to have at least one black girl, with big tits and a ghetto ass. And she needs to wear booty shorts."

"Canada, snow, cold, remember? She'll freeze to death in booty shorts. Although, we could make it a running joke about her not understanding why she's so cold all the time. Maybe we can have her wear the shorts with thermal tights under them."

"Now you're rolling! How soon can you be done?"

"I haven't agreed to do it, yet. Don't get your hopes up."

He lay back, closing his eyes. "Oh, you'll do it, all right. You're hooked, I can see your brain working with my eyes closed. We WILL do this. I guarantee it."

I just sighed and went back to my laptop.

Chapter Four

I tried to leave it alone. Really. I had stuff to finish, stuff that would make me money, instead of something guaranteed to make me lose money. But Eric was right, I was hooked. I'd finally given up, and dedicated one day a week to it. I didn't tell Eric until I was done with it. He'd dropped by, on his way to another date. Somehow word got out that we weren't drug dealers, but movie makers. Poor little rich girls, poor girls, and just regular girls were suddenly interested in playing tennis with us, inviting us to the juice bar afterwards to 'get acquainted'. It got so bad I thought seriously about changing clubs.

Eric was having the time of his life, banging his way through all our admirers, making promises he had no way of keeping. It took another minor STD to slow him down. Even condoms aren't always effective. At least he was a little more selective, and there was a mild scandal, not to mention an increased number of doctor visits by some very pissed off women, when it came out. I was surprised he could find someone still willing to go out with him.

He was moaning about it on my couch when I dropped the binder in front of him.

"What's this?"

"It's what you've been obsessing and bragging about for the last five months. It's your movie."

He was almost reverent when he picked it up. "No shit?"

I grinned to see him at a loss for words. "No shit, as cheesy a piece of junk as I could make it. Tell me what you think when you get time to read it. Now go enjoy your date."

He pulled out his phone, and started texting like crazy. He threw it down and grinned at me. "Seems I'm suddenly at loose ends. Mind if I read it here? And order some takeout, I'm starving."

I couldn't believe he blew off his date for this. "Where did you leave the poor girl waiting?"

"La Petit Chateau. She has a thing for French food. Why?"

"Because I'm going to stand in for you, no need to let good food and a hot woman go to waste. Text her back and tell her I'm on my way." I figured he'd bitch, but he caught her just as she was about to leave. He didn't know whether to be pissed off or not when she said she'd be happy to wait on me.

I came back three hours later, grinning. Seems the perfect thing to go with a nice meal is a little dancing. She directed me to a club I'd never been in before. It was a jazz bar, and it featured an eighteen piece combo that played mostly forties and fifties music. She taught me how to foxtrot, and we enjoyed several nice waltzes. I liked it so much I decided to take advantage of the Wednesday night dance lessons they offered. The young lady I was with seemed delighted to be my practice partner. Looks like Eric might have lost a dolly. The fact that I treated her like a princess and didn't try to peel her dress off her on the dance floor may have swayed her decision.

He could have cared less. There were takeout containers strewn from the kitchen to the living room, along with empty beer bottles. He was grinning like mad, waving the binder. "This is going to be a hell of a movie."

I snorted. "It'll be junk. We're gonna lose our ass if we make it. No one wants to watch shit like this. They never make any money."

"Oh yeah? Seems I remember a movie recently that had weather dumping sharks all over town. It was terrible. So were the two sequels. I hear they're thinking about number four. It still made the guys who came up with it shitloads of money."

"Why is so important to you? You're already rich. What do you need to prove?"

He went unusually quiet for a few minutes. When he started talking it was so low I had to strain to hear. "It's about doing something that's mine. Something that doesn't have anything to do with the businesses I inherited. You think I don't know what they're thinking? If I hadn't inherited this stuff, I wouldn't have a pot to piss in. If it wasn't for my board and managers, I'd have already lost everything. It's not true, but it's what they think. I wanna take this movie and cram it down the throat of every asshole I've had to deal with, wave the money around and laugh at them. So we have to make damn sure it's a success, understand?"

Wow. I knew how he felt. It was the same when I was struggling to be a successful writer, working dead end jobs just to keep fed and housed. It was why my wife left me for that asshole she took up with. Rubbed my face in the fact that her new man had a great career and money to spend on the nicer things of life, and I'd be a pathetic loser until the day I died. If she only knew. Our twentieth high school reunion was coming up. Maybe I'd show up in a limo, a sweet young thing that was almost young enough to be my daughter on my arm. Maybe two. Maybe not. I didn't really like most of the people I went to school with, and if they were assholes then, they were probably bigger assholes now.

I held my hand out. He shook it, wondering why.

"Now it's official. We're gonna make a movie. You better not lose my money, dickwad. And I get to name our company. Two Fools Productions. Has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

He grinned and raised his beer bottle. "Here's to two fools."

I clinked my bottle against his, privately thinking truer words had never been spoken.

Chapter five

My financial advisor had a fit when I had him move money around to pay my half. "This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Do you or your partner know anything at all about making movies?"

"Only if watching a whole bunch of them counts. Look, I know I'm probably pissing this money away. I might as well open a window and throw it out, for all the return I expect to get off it. But it is MY money, and I'm sure in your career you've seen people spend good money for the goofiest of reasons. Now, where do I need to sign?" I still had to promise to get a good accountant and save every receipt.

We got an entertainment lawyer, formed an LLC in case things really went South, rented a set of offices. "Kind of a lot for two guys, don't you think?"

He waved his hands around. "Oh, I expect things to change fairly quickly. We may need more than this soon."

The first order of business was to get a really good producer. We interviewed several, and I'm no expert on producing, but I am pretty good at reading people, and didn't like any of them. We had flown to LA, a town I've never really liked. Eric found an up and comer with a really good record in several decent films as an associate producer. I liked him immediately. He was direct, honest in his expectations of us as clients. I took lead on this interview, so I laid it out to him.

"I'll be the first to admit we have no clue what we've let ourselves for. This is why money won't be discussed until we find someone we can trust. Can we trust you?"

Probably a question he never expected to be asked. "Yes, you can trust me, as far as making the best movie possible within the financial constraints you have. Might not want to loan me ten bucks for lunch though. When I'm totally immersed in a project, things fall by the way. You can ask my wife. I eat, breathe, and live the project. It's even put a strain on our relationship in the past. Too bad she can't work on the project with us, it would make things a lot easier."

"Is she in entertainment also? In front or behind?," I asked, meaning which side of the camera. I had a vision of some leading woman wanna be shoving portfolios at us.

"Behind. She's a screen writer, pretty good one, if I say so myself. Already sold five scripts so far, and she's just on the edge of being really successful. We're working on a series, that she writes while I produce. It's really good, but everybody we've pitched it to wants to take it, and leave us out of the loop." He went on to tell of her successes. I'd even seen two. Pretty good stuff.

"Has she ever adapted a book to the screen?"

"No, but she's always wanted to try. Leah is a big sci-fi and fantasy nut, so she leans towards those things. I don't know if you've ever heard of them, but there's a series of books on line about a band of mercenary women, called 'Battle Babes', that she swears would make a great screen saga, or at the very least some very popular cable movies, most likely on HBO or Starz. They seem to love stuff like that. She says she doesn't believe a man wrote them, because of the insights occasionally, and the sex scenes. According to her, no man alive has ever processed emotions that well. "

Eric sat back grinning, and I wondered if he was going to spill the beans, but he didn't. "Really? I'm one of the few people in the world who can count Rock Stone a friend. Next time I see him I'll bring it up. Don't get your hopes up, he's already been approached twice, and wasn't interested either time. Oh, and he's definitely a guy."

"God, if I tell her that, she'll drive us all crazy. Best not to bring that up in conversation."

"Well, we are looking for a screenwriter. I mean, I wrote the story, but I know diddly all about screen writing. Have your wife come in and talk to us. Give her the story, let her think about it. And Dorian, we're not trying to make something that will win an Oscar for somebody. After all, it's a nod to the B movie genre. So we don't want it to be too good, now do we? You'll have to walk a pretty narrow path here, after all, it will be your first shot as co-executive producer. Your name will be right beside ours in the credits. Give it some thought and get back to us."

He called us back ten days later. "I'd like to give it a try, if you haven't gotten any one else yet. And my wife is definitely interested. She's done a little work on it, and wants to run it by you. I'm working right now. Eight weeks on an action-adventure. One of those high on car chases and explosion things, and low on actual plot. It's got some major players and a new up and comer in it, though, so maybe it'll get some good press. Let me know."

We got our lawyer to draw up the contract. Our responsibility was coming up with the money. His was everything else, with minimal oversight. Of course, he'd have to hire the associate producers and support staff we needed.

The meeting with his wife went well, as long as you kept her away from science fiction classics and fantasy movies. The woman knew almost every cheesy B movie by heart, even the old Ed Wood drivel. I thought for a minute she and Eric would slobber over each other. We thought she'd be perfect, once she understood we didn't want War and Peace. And truthfully, we don't really care up to a point how good it was. Oh, we'd like to recoup our investment, but you can never tell. We told ourselves going in it was just a very expensive indulgence, the only real return we expected was memories.

Chapter six

My latest Battle Babe book, Goddess of The Golden Galaxy, was the best selling in the franchise history. Even serious critics commented on it. Ed Silver of Critic's Choice said it was the best erotic romp he'd ever read. "Whoever Rock Stone really is should consider writing some serious stuff. The love scenes were exciting without being vulgar, erotic tapestries woven with skill and style. Some made my wife blush. And smile. And the unfolding of the interpersonal relationships showed insight into the human condition, revealing more personal details of the main characters than ever before, humanizing them, as it were. If he ever decides to write a romance, Issabella better keep an eye on her rearview mirror, because he'd be coming fast."