Follow Focus
5
In a Family Way
“Gabriella” by FXQuadro, ID340523666 licensed from Shutterstock.com.
WE GOT TO the studio Tuesday in time for me to check my supplies and head over to the Avon with Anna to photo La Guerre, Yes Sir! I really didn’t need that.
Let me explain. “La Guerre” means “War.” The story revolves around the wake and funeral of a Quebecois soldier in World War II who was conscripted against his will—and against the will of the entire French village in Quebec where the play is set—and was killed. The village is so isolated from events that his mother doesn’t even recognize the piece of cloth draped over his coffin as a flag.
It paints les Anglais in something akin to a Revolutionary War era bunch of Redcoats who simply took what they wanted—food, lodging, and soldiers—from the village, without regard for any of the people’s wishes. The men were desperate to do anything to avoid being conscripted. Those who went were referred to as ‘bought-and-sold, unthinking’ types who went off to fight someone else’s war.
There was a deserter being shielded in the town. One boy, in an effort to avoid being conscripted, chopped his own hand off. But even though the village was uniformly opposed to the foreign war of les Anglais that had nothing to do with them, the deserter and the one-handed resister were considered cowards. I almost got lost as I contemplated my own hand and wondered whether if it was the only way to avoid the draft, I’d have had the courage it must have taken to chop off a hand.
It was sickening. And there was a constant overtone of shame on the village for not supporting the war that they knew nothing about. Were they only resisters because they didn’t know better? Because they didn’t know World War II was a just cause and they should support it?
It made me question myself again as to whether I was really anti-war or just opposed to going to war. Anna got me out of the theatre when it was obvious that I wasn’t taking pictures anymore. I’d have to go back the next day to finish as the cast rehearsed some more.
I went to the darkroom to process film and locked the door before any of my girlfriends could come in with me. I got film processed, but I never got around to printing proofs. There’d be time for that the next day. Mostly, I just sat in the darkroom with my head in my hands, thinking about what the show said.
I’d been called a coward for resisting the draft. I refused to even consider a non-combat role in the military. It had been shown repeatedly that they were not ‘defending the shores’ of America. Ever since Wilson tried to make the world safe for democracy, the army had been the tool of an imperialist government sent to fight wherever politicians saw the profit. Probably long before that. And politicians would much rather enforce their will by wielding military power than they would spend the effort to convince the world they had something better to offer. The United States had already shown that democracy was a sham.
I guess I missed dinner. I missed dancing with Toni. I missed my girlfriends until someone finally came knocking at the darkroom door and I unlocked it to admit Patricia. She took one look at me and just held me. She could see. We cried together. It was all too real. Watching the wake for Private Corriveau brought back the days of waiting for Tony’s body to arrive in Tenbrook, holding Patricia during the funeral, discovering she was pregnant. Stupid stupid stupid! If there was justice in the world, Nixon, Johnson, and all their cronies would be standing on the front lines. If I had my way, every fucking congressman and senator would be standing right behind them. We’d see how long it took them before they fragged those generals.
“Nate. Listen to me,” Patricia whispered as we held each other in the darkroom.
“Yes, love. I’m back,” I sighed.
“Good. I think I’m pregnant.”
Holy shit! I was back in the present and alert in a heartbeat. Dad and I didn’t have many father-son talks about the birds and the bees. There was one, though, not long after we moved to Tenbrook, while we were working on Tony’s motorcycle. He’d given me a lecture about using condoms and offered to buy me some if I couldn’t do it myself like a man.
“And just remember this, son. If a girl ever starts a conversation with the words, ‘I think I’m pregnant,’ she’s pregnant. Those words will change your role in life. Be ready for them, because everything you knew before will change.”
Great advice, Dad.
“You’re pregnant! We’re really going to have a baby!”
“I think so. It’s been seven weeks since my last period. Dr. May warned me that I might not be regular after I stopped taking the pill. But seven weeks! I’d normally be due to start again next week. If I miss that period, I think you’d better start taking my picture each week to chart my progress.”
“I think we’d better start today!” I said.
I hugged and kissed my girl and put a hand on her stomach. My baby. Just a little peanut. A whole world without form and void—waiting for the hand of God and the words, ‘Let there be life.’
Yeah. So, I was misquoting atrociously. I was going to be a father.
“Have you told Ronda and Anna?”
“It’s really too early to be telling anyone,” she giggled. “I wouldn’t have told you, but we were here and alone, and we needed good news.”
“It’s the best news, sweetheart. I love you so much!”
I kissed Patricia and before long, we were both naked in the darkroom and my cock was penetrating her waiting vagina.
“We’ll start tonight,” I said. “I mean start photos. I’ll take you out in the studio and take your first record photo.”
“Honey, let’s finish making love first. I love you,” she said.
We didn’t rush. Even though the darkroom isn’t the most comfortable place to make love, we didn’t care. We’d been in this position before and the working of Patricia’s pussy around my cock was all it took for me to plant another colony of potential babies inside her.
I was better prepared for the photo shoot on Wednesday and got through it without losing track of what I was doing. There were some very comic parts of the play as people got drunk during the wake. None of the English soldiers who had brought the body understood the Quebecois, nor did the village people understand the English. When we got back to the studio, Anna didn’t give me a chance to lock the darkroom door without her in there with me. I didn’t mind. I’d been in an incredibly good mood all day.
I got the film processed from the day’s shoot and started pulling proofs while Anna helped move the sheets from one bath to another. Included in the sheets were the pictures I’d taken of Patricia the night before. Anna stopped and stared at them.
“Is she?” Anna demanded. “These are the type of photos you took when she was pregnant. She is, isn’t she! We’re going to have another baby!”
“She said it was too soon to tell anyone,” I laughed. “Might know that you’d figure it out, though.”
“Ronda and I were lying in bed last night waiting for you, speculating on whether you were celebrating or trying again. You were doing both, though, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. After she got me through the shock of seeing that play yesterday, she told me and we went straight to celebrating. I couldn’t help but insist we get started on photos right away.”
“You’d use any excuse to take photos of naked Patricia,” Anna laughed. “You always have.”
“She is an inspiration,” I said as I pulled another proof. “You know what, though? So are you. I’d take your picture any time I could get you naked in the studio. It’s been that way ever since you became my bookkeeper and started running around in a bra and panties with the other girls in the studio.”
“And less and less,” she giggled. “Do you want to take a picture of me in all these poses? Would you like it if I was pregnant and swelling up in the middle?”
“I would love to plant a baby in your tummy,” I growled, wrapping my arms around her, and kissing across her shoulders. “Or we could just pretend and practice a while. I’m always up for that.”
“I can feel you being up for it. So, now that it’s up, put it in. I love you. No, I don’t want to get pregnant. I just want to get fucked.”
“I think we can manage that.”
Anna straddled me on the chair in the same position Patricia had been in the night before. Oh, it was different. Making love with Anna was always different than making love to Patricia or to Ronda. I was happy they were each unique. I still felt a little guilty about pumping into Anna’s wet pussy. She was the religious one—sworn to not even kiss a boy until she found the one she would marry. Then I corrupted her. First, she started running around in a bra and panties. Then she lost the bra and I caressed her in the studio as I brought her to a climax. By the time I took her to prom, we were both so primed we were about to burst. And I did—almost as soon as my cock slid into her silky depths.
Over four years we’d been lovers now and I would never let go of her. Yes, Patricia was pregnant with my child, but marriage was not even a consideration. I had three wives and you can’t do that anyplace in the puritanical United States. I simply needed to make sure each of my wives was cared for and love them all.
Maybe it was that thought that caused the come to rise in my balls. Maybe it was just being sheathed in Anna’s hot quim. Either way, we both exploded and I held that precious girl to me as I pumped a giant load of sperm into her.
“Ronda and I were making bets in bed before the two of you joined us. We bet you were celebrating and decided it was silly for us not to celebrate, too. I really never thought I’d even consider doing it with a girl. But, God! I love Ronda and Patricia. It’s gotten so it isn’t just being willing to help a girl out, or something to do while waiting for our turn on the cock. Even thinking about licking Ronda or Patricia, or about them licking me is enough to get my juices flowing. I honestly like making love to them as much as to you!”
“I’m glad you are part of our real family,” I said. “You know, Ronda and I were talking Monday night about how happy we are with our family the way it is. I mean, you and Ronda and Patricia and me. There’s always room for Toni and more children. But… I know this sounds callous, but we’re both glad Chris and Beth left the family. They didn’t belong. Chris would have had her face buried in your pussy to lick the come out of it, just because it was her perversion. It wouldn’t have been because she loved you. And Beth—even though she was your friend—wasn’t really part of the family. She was just with me, and then only when it was convenient for her.”
“It’s true. We all love each other fully. We have the right mix in our family,” Anna said. “Right now, mix it up in me again and leave another big load of love in me. Speaking of someone willing to lick your come out of me, I know two girls who would love to do it. Might as well leave a load for each of them.”
A few squeezes and I was fully erect inside my lover and we were well on our way to another peak.
We found Ronda and Patricia already in bed when we got up to the apartment. It was still early, but Toni was asleep. Anna and I had a bowl of soup and then joined our wives in bed.
“He told you, didn’t he?” Ronda asked as Anna got under the sheet.
“Yes! We were right. You, Patricia! You thought you could keep a secret from the family!”
“I knew I couldn’t as soon as I whispered it to Nate,” Patricia giggled. “When you and Nate didn’t come out of the darkroom this evening, I dragged Ronda to bed and told her just as she was coming on my tongue.”
“Then I licked that candy-flavored pussy of our mama to be until she squealed,” Ronda said. “Um… That doesn’t mean I’m too tired for a celebration with our husband, too.”
“Good idea, lover. Why don’t you occupy him while I get a taste of this sweet pussy. My wife is going to have a baby!”
“Your wife! Oh, Anna, I love you. I am your wife as much as I’m Nate’s and Ronda’s. Love me, baby. Love me lots!”
We didn’t actually spend all night making love, but there was more fondling, kissing, and cuddling than we’d had for a celebration in a while. This was it. This was why I existed. I would give my life to these women and rejoice every day of it.
I got transparencies back from Dave first thing in the morning and looked through them to decide which to print for the theatre. I made the choice and got the poster-size print made. Then Anna took it and the black and white proofs over to the festival office where the marketing team sorted through them and decided which pictures should be printed and which should be offered for sale to the actors and crew.
Patricia and Ronda were managing the store all day, but I had a photoshoot scheduled. Right at eleven o’clock, Monica showed up for her third and final session with me.
“Monica, welcome back to Attic Allure. Shall we make art today?”
“Oh, mio caro, I am putty in your hands. Mold me. Shape me. Press your body close to mine and make me yours,” she said, flinging her arms around my neck and planting a passionate kiss on my lips and halfway down my throat.
Her passion was full-blown and it would be a while before I could begin to catch up to her. I had a feeling she had been working herself up to this last session since she arose in the morning.
“We’re going to do more with light and shadow on your exquisite body,” I said.
“I knew you would want my body. It is yours. Take it. Paint me with light. Paint me with your love,” she said. I had to wonder if she was quoting from some opera or another. It seemed she almost sang the words.
“I am set for the first pose. May I unveil you?”
“Only if you kiss me and touch me with your fiery lips and fingers.”
I saw Patricia in the doorway to the shop and she blew me a kiss before she closed the door. I led Monica to the center of my little stage area where I had focused an ellipsoidal with a sharply defined gobo. I’d talked to John during photos of La Guerre. Yes Sir! He’d brought me a dozen different patterns that I could use to cast shadows on my model. I wasn’t sure how some of them would work, but I felt that my best work with this would be with low-speed black and white film. Normally, I would use that for extremely fine grain texture. I felt that even though Monica would be lit and cast in shadow, that fine grain would be a positive, as long as I could get her to hold a pose for the long exposures it would require.
I began at once to undress Monica. She had a lightweight jacket and tights on, nothing else. I’d received very explicit instructions from her about kissing and touching, so it took a lot longer to get the two articles of clothing off her body than it should have. But, my God! Handling her beautiful boobs and ass, dragging my fingers through her already-wet pussy, and kissing her could have taken all day and still not have been adequate.
I had three lights prepared from different directions with different patterned gobos in them. I loved how even straight slits of light painted a kind of contour map of her body. Each time I moved her to a different position, the contours changed. And each time I moved her involved more kisses and touches. She tolerated my staying mostly dressed, but got me out of my shirt so she could press herself against me.
I changed patterns, as well. One gobo was a kind of mesh that had little shapes glued to it so it looked like the shadow was what was projected instead of the light.
And Monica moved fluidly into the poses I gave her. She held steady as I shot long exposures on either the Hasselblad or the Linhof camera. The biggest problem I could foresee with these photos was not releasing too many of them at once. They would all look like incredible works of art but would be cheapened if I flooded the market with them.
Eventually, I ran out of positions and patterns for the day and picked her up to carry her to the dressing room. I forgot that her clothes were on the floor of the studio. Monica didn’t care. All she wanted by this time was to be touched and loved. It was all I could do to resist laying her out on the couch and pushing my cock into her wet pussy. As it was, she captured it in her mouth and sucked a load out of me that nearly choked her. I returned the gift by eating her to a noisy orgasm and then just holding her in my arms as we napped for an hour.
I left the dressing room to get her clothes and then spent a good half an hour getting her into the two simple pieces of clothing. It seemed there was still touching and kissing to be done.
“I will carry the memory of your touch with me as I return to Italy,” she whispered at last. “Please come and see my final performance Saturday night. It will be the last time I see you before I leave.”
“I will. I love your voice and will love hearing you sing again. I hope you will be back next season.”
“No, mio caro. I will not return. It would be too hard for me to maintain even the distance we have today. I would live to be in your arms and in your bed. Farewell, farewell. My heart shall ever be in your keeping.”
She swept out of the studio and I spent the next half hour just sitting in the dressing room, partially dressed, recovering my breath from her presence.
She was certainly the most dramatic model and lover I had ever had.
Before I got to Saturday night, however, there was a family celebration to have. Our Little Toni turned four years old. And Tor, Elise, Jim, and Ellie all arrived Friday afternoon to help celebrate.
Toni was beside herself to have two sets of grandparents visit. She was a dervish, running to show them her various projects, her new toys, and her big girl bed. Toni’s birthday was on Saturday, so we’d all agreed we would do whatever she wanted to with her grandparents that day. Of course, she chose to ride horsies.
I have to hand it to both the Kowalskis and the Bergs. They were as enthused as Toni to be out at the stable and get on the horses. Patricia went with them while the rest of us got ready for the celebratory dinner. Toni went to their hotel to spend the night with her grandparents and the four of us dressed up to go to the opera.
It was beautiful, just as it had been when I saw it on opening night. Monica’s voice was truly magnificent and her portrayal was moving. In the tiny theatre, she utterly dominated the space and the entire audience was wrapped up in her performance.
We waited after the performance and eventually were allowed backstage because we were known workers in the festival. We waited outside the dressing room with several other family members of the cast until Monica finally emerged, to the applause of those still in the hall. She held a bouquet of roses that had been presented to her during the curtain call and looked lovely. She went down the row, greeting each of the fans who were waiting and finally reached the four of us.
“Ronda, Patricia, Anna, and Nate,” she said as she gave air kisses to each of us. “Thank you for coming to see me off. You have all made my summer more enjoyable.” Then she turned to the very tall fellow standing on the opposite side of Anna from me. “Carlo, my love, this is Nate, the photographer who painted my body in light and took the pictures that you love so much. Nate, Ronda, Patricia, and Anna, this is my husband, Carlo Kastner. He has come at last to sweep me up and carry me back to Italy.”
I honestly didn’t know what to say. We shook hands all around and he affirmed that he loved the photos of his dear Monica. We left the theatre after saying our goodbyes and ran home, still a little dazed by the revelation that Monica was married and her husband was here!
Sunday morning, we all went out for breakfast at That Scottish Café. Tor, Elise, Jim, and Ellie brought Toni to meet the other four of us. We had a good time explaining what was on the menu and had to ask a waitress to please explain the different sausages.
“Well, it looks like you stirred up a hornets’ nest on the Fourth, you know?” Tor said.
“What’s happening? I haven’t heard anything since I left,” I said. I was worried that there would be more repercussions.
“The FBI,” Jim whispered. Now I was really worried.
“This week a couple fellows identifying themselves as agents of the government got to town and started asking questions. It seemed they’d never heard of the lawsuit against the draft board or what Warren had done until a person who was at the rally called them with a report on it all. They were dispatched to investigate,” Tor said.
“They started with Doc May and Miss Ludwig and I guess they got a real earful. They got to Ellie and me next and wanted to see Tony’s draft notice. They took a picture of it. And of the flag and his awards Trish left with us. We gave them names of the other families who are joining us in the suit.”
“I hope they aren’t trying to pin anything on you for protesting or something,” I said.
“No. I don’t think so. They used words like malfeasance and abuse of authority. I think they’re going after Warren. I wouldn’t be surprised if they send an agent up here to talk to the two of you,” Tor said. “I think they’re going to arrest him.”
“That will take the civil suit out of our hands,” Jim said. “They’ll have a criminal case to deal with that we could never get our District Court to pursue. But what they’re talking about is a Federal case, not a local one. The civil suit was never going to yield any recompense. Warren isn’t rich, so we couldn’t really hurt him with a big judgment. It was strictly to fix the blame and shame. But a criminal case would be a felony and he’d actually have to pay for his crimes in prison.”
“I hope it results in some real action at last. Do you think they’ll charge the rest of the board?” I asked.
“The agents said the only thing they could pursue was lack of oversight. And that isn’t really criminal except in rare cases,” Tor said. “It would be up to the Director of the Selective Service System to determine if there was a reason to discipline the board or fire them. I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything without direct instruction from the President.”
“And Tricky Dick wouldn’t discipline anyone in his Selective Service System,” Patricia scoffed.
“Especially since there is no Director of the Selective Service System at the moment. Tarr got moved to the Department of State as Under Secretary of Security Assistance, according to the agents. They didn’t think there would be a new appointment until after the election this fall.”
“Makes me think twice about agreeing to work for the State Department,” I sighed.
“Too late now, lover,” Ronda said. “You’ve been drafted.”
Monday, Ronda and I went to the Patterson Theatre to do production photos of Mark. It would be a world premiere performance. The opera set had already been struck and in its place were a few pieces of furniture that represented Mark’s bedroom. There were only four actors and the play recounted the final days before Mark dies of cancer.
There were a few costume changes and some interesting tableaux that the director set up. All told, we were out of there by noon. I dropped the transparency off at Dave’s and then went to process the three rolls of film I’d taken. A grand total of thirty-six black and white photos.
When I got to the studio, I was surprised to find Judy and Leanne there with Gabriella—an actress I’d photographed a few weeks earlier. She’d said she wanted to have a body paint photo, but I couldn’t remember a decision on it.
“We’re done with tech for a while,” Judy said. “Leanne created a cool new paint design and I’ve done costume pieces for Gabriella.”
“Oh, cool. Hi, Gabriella,” I said, giving each of the girls a hug. I swear there wasn’t a bra among the three of them. “So, when would you like to schedule it? I think the studio is clear all week.”
“Not in the studio—except for a rehearsal,” Leanne said. “We don’t have the Patterson to play in this year, but Damien and Kathleen offered us the coffee house Friday night. It’s a little more intimate, but we should really have something dramatic to show.”
“This Friday? And we need to rehearse?”
“That’s why we’re here today. We called Anna to check and she said you wouldn’t be long taking pictures of Mark this morning,” Judy said.
“Wow! Well, I wasn’t expecting that, but she’s right. I was just going to process film and it shouldn’t take me long to do that tomorrow. Are you ready, Gabriella?”
“Give me five seconds,” she answered, unzipping her jacket, and letting it fall to the floor as she shimmied out of her slacks. She was completely naked in the studio. “Ready!” she said.
Gabriella flung herself at me and wrapped her arms around my neck to kiss me. I filled both hands with her scrumptious butt and as soon as I could get my lips free, addressed my laughing accomplices.
“Aside from molesting Gabriella, do we have a concept for what we’re doing?”
“Molest me some more,” Gabriella said.
I got her settled down enough that I could sit with her on my lap while Leanne got out her sketches and Judy opened a dress bag with costume pieces. With nothing better to do while I waited, I freely explored Gabriella’s breasts and took a little suck on her nearest nipple.
“It’s a half demon half angel thing,” Leanne explained, showing me the sketches. “It’s all black and white except the horn emerging from her head. That’s kind of golden.”
“No wonder she needed to be naked and shaved bare,” I said. “Is there anywhere we aren’t covering with paint?”
“Kiss and suck some more before you start covering it all up!” Gabriella said.
“We don’t have to cover under the costume pieces,” Judy said, “but the costume doesn’t cover much.”
“Gabriella, dear, do you realize how much paint is going to be on your little body and how long it will take to remove it?”
“When we’re done with rehearsal, Judy and Leanne promised to take me back to the theatre to shower there. You could come with us.”
“For tonight I think I’ll leave that part to the girls. Maybe Friday. Um… Kathleen and Damien know how completely naked Gabriella’s going to be in their little coffee house?” I asked.
“Yes. Damien insisted that we show him the costume,” Judy said.
“I think he wants me,” Gabriella said. “He sure stared hard enough.”
“Damien wants everyone,” Leanne laughed. “But I don’t think he’d take you home and remove all your makeup for you. That’s too much work. Besides, Kathleen and Anita are keeping him pretty busy, I think.”
We set up a work space and I focused lights on Gabriella while Judy and Leanne took over caressing the girl. Judy had the headdress with the black charred and somewhat skeletal left side of Gabriella’s face and a bald pate that continued over the right side of her head.
“We’ll save putting this on you until the end of the process,” Judy said. “I know you are eager to have your body on display in front of as many people as can crowd into that little club, but we should show a purpose so you aren’t just a stripped girl on stage.”
“I’m eager to have you three play with me,” Gabriella said. “I can’t say I’m that eager to be displayed in front of a crowd. Kind of keep me calm when it comes to that.”
“We’ll do our best. Last year, we found that with Leanne, Judy, and I moving around our models, there wasn’t a great clear view of everything until the makeup and costume were complete and I started taking photos. Do we have a story for this, Leanne?”
“Kathleen’s working on one. We’re just going to use a record player for a sound track. She’s getting all that put together. Okay. You get white on the right side and I’ll do black on the left. Judy will start attaching the wings as soon as we have the basics covered. This is one where you want to dip your hand into the pot and then just smear her totally with the paint. When it comes to the part where the two blend, I’ll paint black over the white. Honey, I’m going to do your lower lips first so they aren’t shining white and attracting everyone’s attention.”
“Oh, God! I’m truly being assaulted. Um… You might have to blot a bit of excess fluid away in order to make the paint stick without me washing it away. Ah! My butthole, too? I hope you really take your time when you’re removing the paint from there.”
Gabriella talked through most of the process, perhaps out of nervousness, or maybe it was just an obsession.
“When Nate took my photo the first time, I practically had to beg him to touch me. With the three of you, I feel like I’m about to be dinner for an octopus. The head already?”
Because there were only two colors and the blending was rather free-form, paint went on pretty quickly. Judy had included as much of the face makeup in the headgear as she could. She spent most of her time blending the bald pate into the face.
“Oh, Judy! Leave that part exposed,” Leanne said, pointing to the area around Gabriella’s mouth and chin. “It makes it look like there was once a human under here who couldn’t decide whether to become a demon or an angel.”
“Or a little of both,” I added.
“What does that make me? A Dangel? An Angmon?” Gabriella asked. “What is this costume made of, Judy?”
“It’s crushed tulle stiffened with flex glue and then spraypainted,” Judy said. “It should be just flexible enough that you can move around, but it will still maintain the folds and points.”
“I wish my stage costume was as comfortable.”
“You stage costume doesn’t leave your boobs and butt out on display,” Judy laughed. “Which is too bad. We could charge double for tickets.”
The final bit was to attach a ragged white angel’s wing to Gabriella’s right arm. I stepped back and washed my hands in the dressing room, then returned to grab my camera. Gabriella posed in several ways, fierce, friendly, fearful, and fabulous as I took up a roll of film. We led Gabriella to a full-length mirror so she could see the completed costume and makeup.
“I am definitely going to need some special treatment after this,” she sighed.
Just then Toni came wandering into the studio, having just gotten home from her daycare. She took one look at Gabriella and screamed, running back to Patricia in the store.
“I guess we have one opinion,” I laughed.
I had plenty of time Tuesday to get the proofs of Mark printed and Anna took them over to the festival office for review. Then I spent some time over at the Black Swan to check out what kind of lighting I would need for the performance Friday night. Kathleen met me and I told her we’d rehearsed.
“The poor girl needs the theatre shower after this one. She’s covered from head to foot,” I laughed.
“There’s no show in the Patterson Friday night because Mark won’t open until next weekend. I’ll take you over there to get her cleaned up. Hmm. Might even join you in the shower if you’d like,” Kathleen said, running her fingers up and down my arm.
“I would definitely like to shower with you, lady. I’m afraid Friday night, though, Gabriella will require all the attention she can get from at least three of us.”
“I wouldn’t mind giving her a little attention,” Kathleen said. “I’m trying to talk Damien into a trip to Tenerife this winter.”
“Wish I could join you,” I sighed. “After September first, my time will no longer be my own.”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” she asked seriously. “No one here would bat an eye if you didn’t go back to the States.”
“I think that would be pretty disastrous for everyone involved. I’ve made a big thing about the board having given me exactly what I wanted, and the State Department has manipulated things to buy my contract. They’ve even granted me an extension so I can continue to come here to work in the summers.”
“You know we worry about you,” she said, leaning against me.
“Thank you. I guess the FBI is investigating the bad guy now, so I don’t expect to be hassled again. The draft board knows they overstepped their authority in calling me up, so they’re doing their best not to draw any more attention to themselves. I guess I’ll have only about a week or two in Chicago when I start and then I’m being sent to Boston for training at Polaroid. We’re going to do a couple of installations in the US before they start sending me to embassies and consulates.”
“Will the black wall background be okay for this or do we need to move in some flats so there’s more contrast?” she asked pointing at the little stage.
“I think if I set up a high cross-light from behind her, the backlight will satisfactorily set her off from the backdrop. I’ll use two more pretty high from the front to light her and not cast a shadow.”
“You have all those lights?”
“I had a pretty good selection here in the studio, and when we broke down the setup in Chicago, I brought most of the lights up here with me. I don’t know that I’ll have any ongoing business in Chicago. It’s more likely that Adrienne will have work for me in Los Angeles when I have breaks in my schedule.”
“You’re going to be quite the jetsetter,” she laughed. I went back to the studio to select my lights and transport them to the coffee house.
Friday night, we gathered in the coffee house and got ready for our performance. I believe the house was packed, mostly with Gabriella’s castmates from As You Like It, which was dark that night. There were now four shows rotating on the Festival Stage. This was the height of the season, so King Lear was on stage tonight. Saturday there would be a matinee of She Stoops to Conquer, followed by an evening performance of Lorenzaccio. The Sunday matinee would be As You Like It. In the Avon theatre, La Guerre, Yes Sir! would enter the rotation with Three Penny Opera on Saturday night. The Patterson was dark this week, Orpheus having closed and Mark slated to open next week.
The painting of Gabriella went very well. I was able to get very good photos after the makeup was done and her friends enjoyed and applauded loudly. We were all glad we weren’t doing any additional performances of this show. But scrubbing her up thoroughly in the Avon shower room was thoroughly enjoyable. Having three additional naked beauties in the shower with us just tripled the fun.
And we did get her clean. Very, very clean. With Judy, Leanne, Kathleen, and I testing with our tongues, we checked every possible nook and cranny of Gabriella’s body, and she squealed her delight several times while one or more of us held her up to keep her from collapsing.
After we were done in the shower, we dressed and went over to the little bar café where many of Gabriella’s castmates were waiting for us to celebrate her performance.
“Guess what!” Damien said as he settled into a chair between me and Kathleen. Anita sat on my other side. I cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “The Festival has approved the launch of my little rock opera in the Patterson for next summer.”
“Really? That’s outstanding.”
“Well, getting a big name group to compose the music for it helped. We’ll only be open one weekend because the musicians will only be in town for a week. Then they’re off touring in Japan or something.”
“Is this the one that features the weird sisters as mistresses of Bacchus?” I asked.
“Yes! The Bacchae. Once I explained to the band that the show was about getting drunk and naked, they were all in. I kind of sprang the rending of the king limb from limb in a bloody orgy after they’d already written the first two pieces.”
“Outstanding.”
“We’ve decided to hold King Lear and She Stoops to Conquer over a second season,” Damien continued.
“Not my show,” Anita growled. “Just Kathleen’s.”
“Oh, but my dear, you’ll be fantastic in Taming of the Shrew. Remember As You Like It is my show, too.”
Anita surprised me by leaning over to me and licking my ear.
“After seeing that tonight, I’m going to need another photo sitting soon,” she growled. “It made me very horny.”
“I’m sure I can work you in.”
“It’s you I want to work in,” she whispered. “To me.”
That pretty much set the tone for our evening and by the time I left the restaurant to wander home, I’d been groped and propositioned by half a dozen actresses. Next time I went to one of these after-show things, I’d be sure to have one of my girlfriends with me.
I had two actresses in for photo sessions the next week, which was really all I could take. I was happy to have Ronda help me in the studio. I can’t say that we got any great works of art, but between Ronda and me, we made sure they left satisfied. Very satisfied.
The big buzz, of course, was that Jordan, Nadia, and Adele were coming in this weekend. I had been booked for another photo session and wondered what on earth Jordan was going to do in Stratford while I had his wife and mistress naked in the studio. But he did like the results of our photo sessions.
Jordan was also acting as our real estate scout in Chicago. Mr. Martin had suggested that Chicago would be a suitable residential location for us since we could have an office in the Dirksen Building and be near a major airport that had planes to just about anywhere in the world. And it was significantly cheaper than trying to live on either coast. Jordan had agreed to keep an eye out for an apartment or house we could move into.
They arrived about noon on Friday with plans to attend an evening performance. Jordan sat down with us to go over some of the housing options he’d found. Patricia had gone out to pick up Toni from daycare and when the little girl saw Jordan, she ran straight to him with her arms out. Jordan laughed and picked her up to bounce on his knee.
“Four-bedroom apartments are pretty hard to come by in Chicago,” he said as Toni giggled. “We could maybe get a three-bedroom two-bath within commuting distance, but not on the El. You’d have to drive into a commuter lot at the end of one of the lines. Now, that is true of most of the houses I’ve found, too, but they have more room in them and are mostly in better neighborhoods.”
“Um… We could probably get by for a while with a three-bedroom two-bath, but um… we’re kind of working on expanding the family a little,” I said.
“Expanding?” Jordan looked at all of us grinning. “You dog. Well, I know you aren’t expanding with my daughter. She’s too busy getting in trouble and calling dear old dad to bail her out.”
“What happened?” I asked in alarm. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Beth.
“Well, last weekend was Summerfest in Milwaukee,” Jordan said. “We went up for a while because there was supposed to be a great new comedian Beth wanted us to see. He got hauled off in the middle of his spiel for public indecency.”
“He stripped on stage?” Anna asked.
“No. He had a whole routine about seven words you can’t say on television. The routine was pretty funny, but the city police didn’t think anyone should be using those words in public, let alone on TV. The next day, Elizabeth… or Starr as she insists on being called, got right up on stage, and repeated all seven of the words until the police arrested her as well. I think she was actually using a few choice words about the police as well that they didn’t like. There were half a dozen comedians arrested over the weekend, but only George Carlin was held as the instigator of all the public indecency.”
“Oh, man. She does manage to get her tits in a wringer,” Anna said.
“An entirely appropriate comment,” Jordan laughed.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
