Over Exposure
18
Playing with Dolls
“Renée” by conrado, ID88287475 licensed from Shutterstock.com
I HELPED CLAIRE DRESS, which involved a lot more touching and kissing, and packed her suitcase. We had one last kiss at the stairs and I headed to the darkroom. I found Rita at the door with the rolls of film to be processed.
“Some days, working with you is like watching live porn. Can I join you in the darkroom while we get things processed?” she asked.
“It would be hard to resist you,” I said. “In fact, I have no desire to.”
Once we were in the darkroom and I had a roll of film in developer, Rita set about getting us both naked.
“I can’t believe that after you ate her out, you let her walk away without fucking her. I was ready to scream, ‘Give her your cock!’ as if I was watching a movie.”
“What kind of movie would you be watching that you’d scream that?” I laughed. We kissed a few times and then I pulled and rinsed the roll of film, reloaded the tank, and handed it to Rita to turn the knob.
“What kind do you think? There’s a theater over on Harris that shows triple-x movies. I sometimes slip into the back row in an overcoat and sit to diddle my clit through a double feature. I kind of like watching. I like doing it, too, if you happen to get a hand or something free and would like to do me.”
I did get something free and we managed a lot of contact as we were processing film and printing contact sheets. When the last sheet was in the fixative, I finally managed to get a condom on and insert Tab A into Slot B. Her words. No matter, having her bouncing on my shaft was a delight and I was happy to fill a condom as Rita gasped out her own orgasm.
I was late for dinner, but everyone expected I would be.
The big news the next week was that Vietnam Veterans Against the War was mounting a weeklong protest in DC. There were a few thousand of them gathering, a little more organized than the student protests had been. Veterans had gone through the process of scheduling appointments to meet with congressmen and senators during the week, backed by the demonstrators on the Mall.
“I’m going to go,” Patricia announced at dinner Tuesday night.
“Go where, Sweetheart?” Ronda asked.
“To Washington to join the protest. I’ve contacted some other war widows I know and we’re going to meet up as Widows Against the War. There’s going to be a massive protest on Saturday. It might be bigger than the one we went to during the moratorium. I need to go.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said immediately.
“You’ll need help with childcare,” Ronda said. “Do you want to leave Toni with us or have us go with you?”
“You’d do that?” Patricia asked. Tears were near.
“Of course, my love. You know Anna and I would do anything for you. I’ll call her now and we’ll be ready to leave Friday morning.”
I nodded. I was so fucking proud of my girlfriends.
“Nate! Thank goodness I caught you!” said the voice on the phone when I answered Wednesday evening. “We can do it tonight if you can be at the airport by ten.”
“Do what? Who? Valerie?” I said.
“Yes! It’s Valerie the bride and I can get my wedding party onto a brand new plane tonight at ten. We’re opening new routes from Chicago, flying the 747. I told the PR people that you’d take pictures of the interior of the plane for publicity if we could shoot my wedding party there.” Valerie was very excited and talking so fast I could hardly understand her.
“Okay. I think I can make that. Where should I come?”
“Do you have your microbus with all the seats?”
“Yeah. The seats are all in.”
“Then pick up Leslie and swing by my parents’ house to pick up the girls and me.”
“Okay. I’ll call Leslie and see you between nine and nine-thirty.”
“If you’re late, we’ll be drunk!”
“Right. See you in a little while.”
I don’t think being early prevented any pre-party drinking. The girls were pretty rowdy. I’d called Leslie and she met me at the studio to pack a minimal amount of equipment, which meant my camera case and tripods. I was going to have to hope the area we were shooting had adequate lighting. I was pretty sure I couldn’t run an extension cord to power any lights. I did have my strobe, though, so that might be adequate. I packed an umbrella as well. Of course, Leslie had her Leica with her and I trusted she’d be shooting as many photos in 35mm as I did in 2x2 and 4x5.
“How many of you are there?” I asked as the girls came down the Marshes’ front steps.
“Just seven!” Valerie announced.
She practically manhandled Leslie out of the front seat so she could sit next to me. One of her friends got in next to her. Leslie went all the way to the back of the bus after wishing me good luck. We were full.
I hadn’t had nine people in the microbus in a long time. And all seven in Valerie’s party wore stewardess uniforms. I wasn’t sure if all seven were actually stewardesses. I didn’t think so. One was a little chubby and airlines were picky about that.
I followed Valerie’s directions to an employee parking lot and she hung a card from the mirror that had a flight permit on it. Leslie and I unloaded the equipment and followed Valerie through a private gate to a hangar.
I’d been on a 747 on my last trip to LA, but I’d never really been outside one. All we saw from the gate when I boarded was the nose. There were lights on all over the building and Valerie showed her ID and a letter of permission to board the plane. It was really big. It was about as long as a football field and as tall as my apartment building. I lived on the sixth floor. From wingtip to wingtip was almost as far as nose to tail.
A guy in uniform met us at the foot of the stairs and I assumed he was a pilot. There were stripes on his shoulder boards. Um… epaulets, I think I was told at one time.
“Just don’t mess anything up. We fly this baby on her maiden voyage tomorrow at eleven a.m. Are any of you on the crew?”
“No, Jim. We’re in town for a couple of days before any of us report for duty.”
“Good. I can smell the alcohol and I’d hate to report you if you were flying,” he said. He turned to me. “I’ve been instructed to show you the cockpit. If you’ll follow me, please.”
We climbed a flight of stairs to get to the door, and then up the circular staircase to the upper deck. The pilot, Jim, led me forward and unlocked the door to where pilots flew the plane. I quickly loaded my Hasselblad and followed him into the little room.
I’ve never seen so many gauges and dials. Even the ceiling was lined with switches. I don’t think the flight deck of Hal’s spaceship in 2001: a Space Odyssey had so many controls. I guess flying in space is easier than flying around the earth. There were two seats in the nose with control sticks in front of them. The left was for the Captain, Jim explained. The right was the first officer’s seat. Oh. Like Star Trek. I could picture Kirk and Spock in the seats. There was a desk with a million gauges in front of it behind the right seat with a seat at it. This was for the second officer or flight engineer, according to Jim. Okay, Chekhov.
There was a fold down seat behind the captain’s chair that he called a jumpseat and was used for observers or pilots transferring from one base to another. He said a second crew could be housed in a bedroom area behind the lounge for really long flights. I took pictures, mostly of the controls. Jim sat in the captain’s chair and allowed me to sit in the first officer’s chair. I took a picture of him from there.
When I’d finished my tour, Jim relocked the cockpit and repeated his instructions not to break anything, then he went down the stairs and off the plane.
“Woohoo!” Valerie said as she raised a champagne glass. A couple of corks popped and the girls’ glasses were filled. Getting them in a semblance of order for a photograph was like herding cats. Someone was always paying attention to something else.
“Valerie, isn’t Elizabeth going to be in your wedding party?” I asked. I suddenly realized the absence of her sister.
“Yeah, but she’s off performing in Buffalo. Then it’s to Niagara Falls and then Boston and then who knows where. She’ll show up the day before the wedding and leave as soon as I say I do to head off to her next performance. Miss her?”
“Of course,” I said. “I just realized she was absent.”
“Yeah, well we have lots of pictures for you to take. So, let’s get loaded and start shooting.”
I thought she was well on the way to being loaded already, but she tried to hand me a glass of champagne and I waved it off. I noted Leslie had no problem participating in the party.
“I’m driving, Valerie. I have to stay sober and I’d appreciate it if the rest of you didn’t get so drunk that you throw up in the bus.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay. Just remember, you have to get all seven of us naked eventually. It will be easier if we’re a little drunk. And maybe your cute assistant will get naked, too.”
I figured that was a given.
We started with fairly formal shots of all the girls in kind of a wedge around Valerie, seated in one of the luxury recliners. Then I worked on getting them in different positions and began getting rid of their jackets. I’d do clever things like have one girl getting topless and another girl have to shield her with her jacket. Most of the girls lost their skirts after the jackets and just had their shirts on. I thought the chubby girl was the most fun among them and was an instigator when it came to risqué scenes.
By the time I had them all topless, I’d had fifteen boobs in my hands and a good handful of ass from each of them as I positioned her. None of the girls were actually introduced to me, so I’m sorry to keep referring to characteristics like the chubby girl. When I had a nice handful of her tit, she turned and kissed me, forcing a champagne-tasting tongue into my mouth.
“If you have a condom, you can have a little fun bouncing off my ass with your cock in my pussy,” she said. “If you’ve never had a big girl, you have a real experience coming. And coming and coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation. We might not get that far, but I’m definitely planning to let my fingers do the walking,” I said. She kissed me violently again.
“Yes.”
Eventually, panties came off all of them and I had seven stewardesses dressed in their hats, neckerchiefs, and high heels. I knew from my flying experiences that no working stewardess would be wearing heels like these. But it did do nice things for the legs and asses I was seeing.
“You guys have another round,” Valerie said. “I promised PR that I’d have Nate take pictures of all the main areas of the plane. We’ll be back in a few minutes. Leslie, maybe you could take some pictures of the girls.”
Leslie, of course was as naked as the other girls, having no inhibitions about drinking or playing. She agreed and got the six girls lined up in a kind of pyramid as Valerie and I went down the stairs. Hmm. That was a clever way to get us alone. I quickly realized that was her intent all along.
I took pictures of the first class cabin and the three areas of the coach with Valerie’s hand wrapped around my waist, jacking my cock. When we got back to the first class cabin, she led me to the front seat and knelt on it with her bare ass wiggling up against my cock. I quickly got a condom out of my pocket and as soon as I was sheathed, slid smoothly into the sister of my former girlfriend. I really didn’t feel bad about it. I’d fucked her mother a few months ago.
Believe me, Valerie didn’t feel bad, either. In fact, she felt damn good. I got her off just before I filled the condom. Then I twisted her around on the seat and got on my knees in front of her to eat her to an earth-shaking climax.
“God, my sister is an idiot,” Valerie panted as we checked the seat to make sure there was no residue left behind. “We’d… um… better put this away before we go back upstairs or you’ll have to do all seven of the girls up there.”
She tucked my cock back into my pants after removing the condom and finding an airsick bag to put it in. She rolled that up and we went back upstairs. Most of the girls had some of their clothes back on. Leslie was coaxing the stragglers into at least skirts and blouses, whether they were wearing panties and bras or not. One of the other girls, who I assumed actually was a flight attendant, collected the remaining pieces of clothing and put them in a plastic bag. She said they’d sort it out when they got to the hotel.
Valerie got dressed to much ribbing by the rest of the girls. She just grinned. They did a pretty good job of policing the area, picking up corks and bottles to deposit in another garbage bag. I packed my camera equipment and checked to make sure I had all the exposed film. I hadn’t even opened the Linhof. I shot six rolls of film in the Hasselblad, and I knew Leslie had shot a couple rolls of 35mm transparencies. When we got everything in tip top shape, we traipsed down the stairs and out the door of the aircraft.
When we got in the bus this time, Valerie got in back. The chubby girl got in front beside me and Leslie was beside her. As soon as I was started up and out of the parking lot, she slid my hand off the gearshift and up the inside of her bare thigh. Fortunately, I wasn’t driving far for the first stop. Valerie directed me to an airport hotel where four of the girls—the real stewardesses, I was told—got out and spent a lot of time gabbing on the sidewalk as Valerie convinced Leslie to join her and a friend in the back seat.
As soon as there was more room, the chubby girl spread her legs wide and pulled me into a kiss. She pushed at my hand and I found her hairy pussy to be a real swamp. I got my other hand under her blouse and on her bare tit and worked both the nipple and her clit until she gasped out an orgasm only partially silenced by my mouth on hers.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just fuck me now?” she asked. “I’m really pretty flexible and there’s more room in this front seat than some cars I’ve made it in.”
“Thank you for the offer. I’m pretty well wiped out now,” I said.
“Valerie has had more men in her pussy than cars in the Holland Tunnel. But I love her.” She looked out the still open door on the side of the bus. “Hey, bitch! Get back on the bus so we can go to bed.”
Valerie and her other girlfriend and Leslie got in the microbus and sat in the last seat with Valerie sandwiched in the middle. The other girls closed the doors behind them and headed into the hotel. I drove Valerie and her two remaining bridesmaids home and then took Leslie home with her sleeping on my shoulder.
I dragged myself to class on Thursday and went straight home after work. We decided that for such a fast trip, we needed to take Patricia’s car and not the bus, even with five of us in the car. As soon as Anna got in from Rockford Thursday, I took the car out and got it serviced. I checked the tires and made sure the tank was full. I even washed it and cleaned the inside. Friday morning, we got up early and headed out.
Ronda had called a travel agent to get us a hotel room about half a mile from the National Mall. A weary desk clerk looked at us and just shrugged as he handed Ronda a couple of keys.
We went to the restaurant in the hotel for dinner and then crashed for the night. It had been an eleven-hour trip from Chicago and even with four drivers, we were all bushed. We didn’t even complain about having two beds and a crib in the room. We all just went to sleep.
In the morning, we collected our signs and Toni’s stroller to walk the half mile to the Mall. What a jam! I think there were more people there than we’d seen during the moratorium two years ago. Maybe a quarter million people pressing into the Mall with signs and slogans.
According to the news we’d seen the night before, eight hundred Vietnam veterans had individually approached the Capitol and tossed their medals, ribbons, and even discharge papers on the steps. We could see flags flying upside down. I asked about it and was told it was an international sign of distress.
The veterans, in their uniforms and fatigues, were scattered among the crowd. Of course, I took pictures. There was no way we could collect names and releases, which meant that the photos were strictly for editorial use. I’d get home Sunday night and spend the night in the studio developing film and printing images to take to the newspaper Monday morning.
Perhaps the most moving tribute I saw all day was when a couple dozen war widows approached the steps and knelt with photos of their husbands and just cried together. Ronda and Anna stood behind Patricia with hands on her shoulders while she held Toni. That would be a photo our family would cherish forever.
We were tired and hungry by the time we got back to our hotel and managed to get through the cafeteria line for food. We all headed back to bed but were up early Sunday morning for the drive back to Chicago. It was an exhausting weekend and we all wondered if anything from the week had done any good. The war was still the war.
Two of my photos, including the picture of Patricia and Toni with Tony’s photo and the other widows, were published in the newspaper Monday evening. I sent copies to the Huntertown newspaper and they ran half a dozen of them with the story Ronda and Anna wrote to go with the photos.
My Constructed Image project was due on Thursday. I’d spent my spare time—hah!—all week working on Toni’s dollhouse. When she got it back over the weekend, she’d have a far more elaborate setup than she ever imagined before. I figured a way to mask out a bit of the dollhouse in the shape of my goddaughter. I printed her image in the dollhouse and the project passed. I also got a lot of critique and comments about how I could improve it. Some pretty helpful advice.
The spring was collapsing on me. I was just two weeks from the end of the semester and I’d promised to spend the weekend photographing Renée for my patron, Simon Guzik. Anna had negotiated the pricing and he’d agreed to a phenomenal sum for both Renée and me. This was to be a set guaranteed to be one of a kind. I would try to make sure there were good photos of Renée that were not in the set that we could have for our own collections. The set was to be just six images, but they needed to tell a story of some sort. This might have been a more difficult assignment than any of my classes this term.
We spent our entire session Friday working out the scenario. I had Renée, Rita, and Leanne with me. We talked about possibly doing artwork on Renée, different costumes she could wear, and settings we might use. Of course, Guzik wanted his set to include artistic nudes. I couldn’t blame him for that. Renée had an exquisite body she’d invited me to explore thoroughly. I was looking forward to that opportunity again.
When we finally had a concept we all agreed on, we began working on settings and costumes and makeup. We broke up for the night and planned to meet early Saturday morning to get started.
Anna and I met Rita and Leanne at the studio at seven-thirty to gather up all the equipment we could carry. I had my tripod case, my cameras, and four lights with stands and umbrellas. We headed for the fashion design studio at the college. We met Renée with a large clothing bag over one shoulder and a suitcase in her other hand at the door to the school.
What this department called a studio was really a sewing shop with several machines, ironing boards, and a dozen life-size mannequins. Some of the mannequins had clothes on and some were just standing waiting.
Leanne went straight to unpacking lights and getting extension cords run, assisted by Anna. I joined Rita and Renée to unpack her clothes. We decided this would work best if we actually used Renée’s clothes so we’d be sure they fit, and she had a nice selection of beautiful and sexy clothing to work with.
Our theme was ‘Playing with Dolls’ but there would come a point when it was the mannequins playing with Renée instead of the other way around. We chose a dress for Renée from her collection and dressed mannequins in her other dresses. Of course, I had to help Renée into her dress. Then Leanne went to work on her makeup. She looked incredibly glamorous.
We took our time and shot scenes as we thought of them, but one thing seemed to be missing. There needed to be a person playing with the dolls all the way through. I finally called Rita to me for a conference.
“Honey, this photoshoot is all about Renée. She’s the one the customer ordered and is paying for. But I need someone—a seamstress supplying the clothes—in the background. You wouldn’t actually be the focus of the image, but you’d be there offsetting Renée. Would you be willing to do it?”
“Are you just trying to get me naked?” she giggled. “I’d do that for you anyway.”
“No. Sadly, I’d need you to stay clothed. I don’t think I’d even want to show your face. You’d be behind her, pinning something, or at a sewing machine, or pushing a mannequin into the scene. Maybe even positioning her arms like she was a mannequin herself. And it would be worth a hundred dollars,” I said. I saw her eyes light up.
“Sounds like fun. Can I wear something incongruously fashionable?”
“What do you have?”
“I’ve been working on a new line and have a dress that would look good. Nice, but not overwhelming. Maybe you could take a couple of pictures of me for my portfolio, too.”
“Let’s get you into it and get Leanne to do your hair and makeup.”
I called a break for thirty minutes while we got Rita ready and Anna ran out to get hotdogs for all of us from a street vendor around the corner on Wabash.
I think Leanne liked having Rita naked on set as much as I did. She did need to adjust things frequently. Like her boobs and her butt. I used the opportunity to pay attention to Renée and explain what we were going to do. As long as I kept kissing and caressing her, she was fine with it.
Finally, when we got back to shooting, getting Renée undressed as Rita made adjustments to her costume in the background made sense. Before we quit for the day, I got the perfect capstone shot.
I was glad to have Renée’s artwork on film so I could work at my own pace in getting the best pieces enlarged for my patron. Renée’s semester ended a week before mine did and I spent most of that first week of May in the darkroom.
When I called Renée and told her the prints were ready for her portfolio, she met me at the studio Thursday afternoon. She’d just finished her last final and was very hyped up over being out for the year. She wanted to know what was different between our sets of the photos and the one I was providing Guzik. That led me into an instructional time in the darkroom, during which we both ended up naked and enjoying each other.
The sad side-effect of that little tryst was that I overexposed an enlargement of one of the prints and that wasted a 16x20 sheet of archival paper. That happens sometimes. Probably more often than I like to admit. Those sheets of photo paper are expensive.
However, by the time I opened the darkroom door, both Renée and I were very satisfied. With the results, of course. She took her 8x10s and gave me another kiss before heading out for her summer.
All I had remaining was finals. Anna was in the same boat, but I think she had a lot more to study for than I did. I only had final exams in Makeup Techniques and Urban Images. I’d completed my final projects in Constructed Image, Chicago Performs, and Directed Visions. I’d even sold a few prints from our performance with Shawna. It would be fun having her up at Stratford for a while this summer. Min would be up for a week, too, and we were still discussing what housing arrangement she’d have. Leanne and Judy planned to share an apartment. Shawna planned to stay with Leanne. If her stay overlapped with Min’s, that would create some conflicts in the little apartment, so we might host her in our apartment.
Summer was already looking complicated.
I passed my makeup exam, both as a cosmetician and as a model. Leanne said that I looked almost as pretty as Dora when I’d been made up. The Urban Images exam was a lot of ‘How’d you feel about this?’ sort of questions. Very subjective and everyone passed, of course. I was free from school and made dinner for the family Thursday night. Anna got home feeling relieved that her term was over and we had a little celebration.
And then the pressure was on again. Monday, Anna and I left for Los Angeles and the premiere of Over Exposure.
This was going to be a fast trip, signified by my packing of only my 35mm Nikon and not even a tripod. I didn’t plan on any studio photo sessions or spending time in a darkroom. Unless I was wrapped around Adrienne. But the room didn’t need to be dark for that.
Anna had never flown before and was as excited about it as I’d been on my first trip. The 747 first class was definitely the way to go. Not that I objected to first class on the 727, but this was really the height of luxury. We went to the upper deck lounge and had a drink, which left Anna in helpless giggles for the rest of the flight. My girlfriend had never drunk alcohol other than the occasional champagne toasts we had. The bartender, upon hearing that Anna was a cocktail newcomer, suggested a sidecar. Just the name got us laughing a bit since we’d had a welcome aboard glass of champagne when we took our seats.
The Sidecar is made from cognac, triple sec, and lemon juice. It’s served in a sugar rimmed glass that Anna licked until every trace of sweet was gone. I escorted her back to our seat in time for dinner to be served and that cut the alcohol consumption.
We gathered our things, picked up our checked luggage, and met Chrystal at baggage claim to go to our waiting limo. She took us directly to the Beverly Wilshire where we were checked into a luxury suite.
“Shall we call Adrienne?” Anna asked. There was a gleam in her eyes that indicated the idea excited her.
“Should we have her pick up some food and come straight to our room?”
“That will make her happy. I’m sure she loves to be of service to you,” Anna said.
“Love, you should make no mistake: Adrienne is in love with you. Yes, perhaps it is the adoration of a puppy for her master, but it is real nonetheless. You should call her and tell her what we want and have her come here. And be sure you tell her she can’t come until she gets here. Once she hears your voice ordering her about, she’s likely to have a hand in her panties. If she’s wearing any.”
“This will be so fun!” Anna said as she went to the hotel phone and figured out the dialing for an outside line. She’d started by just dialing Adrienne’s number and was instantly connected to another room and a guest who was not amused by the call. Dial 9 for an outside line.
She gave instructions to Adrienne, telling her we were very hungry and she should be prepared to be eaten and spend the night. I wasn’t sure if the instruction to bring food was clear, but we’d find out when she got here.
“Mistress! I am so glad you called. I have food from the Bistro. Master has eaten there and seemed to like the food. If it doesn’t please you, Mistress, your Fifi will run out for something else.”
“Sweetheart, you know I will be pleased with what you have chosen,” Anna said, clasping our mistress to her for a kiss. It went on a while as I took the bag of food to the table. As soon as the kiss was over, Adrienne flung herself to the floor at my feet.
“Master, how may I serve you?” she said.
“I think you should start right where you are and kiss your way up my body until your lips are fastened to mine. And lose your clothes on the way up.”
Anna snorted, but Adrienne was busy kissing my feet and then my legs as she fought her way out of her clothes. She spent a little extra time kissing my cock on the way up, but I didn’t let her get me unzipped yet. Eventually, I got the kiss I actually wanted from a very luscious and naked girl.
I held her on my lap as Anna fed her bits from our sandwiches. The dill pickle was obviously a little distasteful to her, but she ate it when Anna fed it to her.
Adrienne fed me, prevented from feeding Anna. That left my hands free to become reacquainted with her body. Her beautiful breasts were alive in my hands and her pussy was leaking fluid on my slacks. Every so often, Anna would lean forward and suck on one of Adrienne’s nipples.
Of course, the food was all a ruse to get Adrienne to us. None of us were that hungry. The meal they served on our flight was scrumptious. I was sure Adrienne had eaten long before we called. But we ate and played at the table, then instructed Adrienne to get the shower running as we were sticky from our flight. We went to her one at a time in the bathroom and I was truly afraid there would be no hot water left by the time I got my turn.
As far as I could tell from the schedule I’d been mailed, I was to join a signing party tomorrow afternoon at which the leading actors, director, writer, producer, and I would all sign posters that would be given out to each attendee at the premiere Wednesday afternoon and again at the Midwest Premiere in Huntertown on Friday. Apparently, the signing was the first act of the day as the party would continue through dinner and into the evening.
When Anna finally got out of the shower, she was smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh, that girl does know what to do to me,” she sighed. “Please save screwing her until you come to bed so I can be with the two of you.”
I agreed, but that did not prevent Adrienne from sucking a load from my balls before I got out of the shower and we dried each other on fluffy hotel towels.
The next hour or two was filled with Anna and me treating our pet like a goddess. We worshiped every inch of her body and after I’d come in her pussy, Anna went down on her to clean her of all my sperm while I kissed and petted her. Eventually, all of us managed to settle in for sleep with Adrienne cuddled between Anna and me.
We enjoyed lounging together in the morning and making love. I didn’t think there would be any punishments delivered on this trip. I really wasn’t in the mood to play that game.
At noon, we gathered ourselves up and dressed for the two-stage party. I was going to the signing while Adrienne took Anna shopping for a gown to wear to the premiere the next night. If I knew Adrienne, it would be a wonder if Anna didn’t come home with a whole new wardrobe.
The signing party was at the Millennium Biltmore. The dozen of us involved met in a boardroom kind of place with a long table and chairs for each of the signers. I was escorted by Chrystal since Adrienne was busy with Anna. There were four or five others—it was hard to keep track as they kept floating in and out—who were responsible for making sure the posters progressed from one to the other of us, were collected at the end, and were rolled and tied with a ribbon for distribution. I wasn’t even sure why I was there. No one would ever know me or care. Then I saw that I had a credit on the poster as ‘Director of Still Photography.’ That was kind of a lofty title, I thought, but the poster and all the promo photos being used were shots I’d taken.
It was good to see Fran again, though we had just time for a quick kiss before we were seated and put to work. I had no idea how this should work, but I signed my name some fifteen hundred times that afternoon. I had cramps in my hand. Chrystal had made sure I had coffee if I turned around in my chair. No beverages or food were allowed at the table where all the posters were. And smoking was prohibited. Those who needed a smoke or a drink of something stronger had to take a break and leave the room in the company of a handler who made sure they got right back to their seats so the signing didn’t get backed up too much.
I was more than ready for a cocktail myself by the time we finished the production line of getting all the posters signed. Anna and Adrienne had arrived by that time and we were all shown to dressing rooms where we could change from casual wear to party clothes. My women looked totally scrumptious and Anna not only had a new dress, but a complete makeover, hairdo, manicure, and new shoes.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “Adrienne knew every beautician and shopkeeper we went to. They were falling over themselves to do what she asked. I’m glad you have a suit here for tonight.”
“I didn’t have,” I said. “It arrived about the same time you did. I believe Adrienne already had it tailored and ready for me in her closet.”
At that point, Fran came running up to me for a real hug and kiss. She just wrapped herself around me until Adrienne tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped away.
“Fran, this is Nate’s girlfriend Anna. Miss A, this is Fran Carter, a new talent Nate discovered on his first trip to LA,” Adrienne said formally.
“Oh, yes! I’ve seen your photograph. Of course, I hardly recognized you with clothes on,” Anna said.
I wasn’t sure that Fran caught the little barb, but Anna was in pretty good humor, so I wasn’t worried one way or the other. Besides, Jordan and Lorna both wanted hugs and kisses, too. Adrienne repeated the introductions to Anna.
“How do you like my new boobs?” Lorna asked, pulling my hands to her chest so I could thoroughly explore her newly-enhanced bustline.
“I guess this will be the last film you play a pubescent teen in, won’t it?” I said as I found her nipples and gave them a little pinch.
“Yeah! I’m going to play big girl roles now,” she said.
“You might want to work on your voice a little then,” Anna suggested. “If I closed my eyes and listened to that entire exchange, I’d still think you were twelve or thirteen.”
“Oh, God! My voice coach told me exactly the same thing! Are you a coach?” Lorna asked Anna.
“No, I’m an accountant,” Anna said. “I’m listening for the money.”
“Wow!” Lorna didn’t know what else to make of that exchange, but I think Anna’s message was loud and clear. Lorna wasn’t going to get femme fatale roles that matched her new body if she didn’t sound like a grown-up.
I kept Anna on one arm and Adrienne on the other as we were seated in a dining room for dinner with around a hundred others. All the cast and crew had been invited to this soiree and to the premiere the next night. I saw several others I’d met and photographed over the course of my trips to LA. I’d seen a lot of the boobs demurely displayed in party dresses with nothing on them.
Fran sat beside Anna at dinner while the rest of the actors were scattered among the tech crew. There was a live band for entertainment and after the main course of dinner, Frank addressed everyone, presenting little awards and recognition for silly things. It was basically a fun wrap-up of the production before we saw the final result and got notices the next day. When we were getting ready to go, Fran joined us in the limo.
“Hmm. How is this going to work?” I asked. “Are we taking Fran home?”
“Oh, no,” Anna said. “Fran is going to the hotel with you so you can thoroughly scratch the little itches she’s developed. There are a couple rather deep inside so you’ll have to work very hard at scratching them.”
“That could make our bed a little crowded,” I said, thinking of Anna, Adrienne, and me sharing the bed the previous night.
“No. It will just be the two of you. I’m spending the night at our pet’s home. You know I haven’t even seen it yet? And I do want some one-on-one time with Fifi.”
That explained how the rest of the night would go. I kissed both Anna and Adrienne goodnight at Adrienne’s apartment building and took Fran to the Beverly Wilshire.
I never imagined that I would one day spend an entire night with Fran in my bed. She was, frankly, far more suited to a fuck in the back seat of the limo. Not that I had any difficulty having sex with her a few times that night. If anything, she was an energetic lover and kept me awake longer than I intended to be.
And pumping into her well lubricated pussy was like scaling the Matterhorn and living to tell about it. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. I think the most disconcerting thing was lying flat on her and being held away by those artificially inflated boobs. They really didn’t move around or compress much at all.
No matter what I might say about it, though, I genuinely liked Fran and I was excited for her success in this movie. She already had a contract to play a small but good role in an upcoming thriller, to be shot in Hollywood. It turned out that an actor I had photographed recently was also in the movie and I wondered how many strings my Fifi was pulling.
Fran had also signed an option for a sequel to Over Exposure, assuming the original was a success. She would play the same role, but it was a major part in the proposed new film. And Fran credited all this to taking her clothes off for a photographer on a first class flight to Los Angeles. She was determined to show the photographer how very much she appreciated meeting him and giving him a blow job in the lavatory.
“Every coincidence is a blessing in disguise,” she said. “A connection in the eternal web of our existence. I believe that good things happen because we put ourselves in the way of them happening.”
The clenching of her pussy muscles on my cock was definitely a good thing happening, simply because I coincidentally put it in her pussy. I lost my load in the condom and she got me ready for another round.
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