Chapter 5

When I woke up in the morning, the whole room was spinning. And I was the proud possessor of a full-blown hangover. It must have been my lips that sucked down all that whiskey, I thought. With some effort I made it to the bathroom and took a shower. Then I started to get ready for school. I say started because I decided to forget it right away. My head was still too dizzy, and the simple act of getting dressed seemed like a real chore. Fuck it, I thought, I'll skip all my classes today.

Then I remembered my appointment with Professor Winton, when he was going to tell me how bad I was flunking his course. But that wasn't until three o'clock, buying me plenty of time to recover.

I turned the television on in the living room, closed the curtains, and promptly fell asleep on the couch. It was ten-thirty when I woke up again and my head was a little better. The room was only spinning in slow motion and the TV stayed in focus when I watched it. I was still wearing my terrycloth bathrobe when I went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. No sense in getting dressed. Whenever I have a day like this, I try to be as lazy as possible.

I sat by the window, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. Every now and then I just looked outside and stared at the lake. It was windy out there, the waves were crashing onto the beach, and it looked so beautiful that I was glad I stayed home from school. I'm never around during the day to enjoy this kind of thing. It started to rain, light at first, but then it came down in buckets. The parking lot was full of puddles and the sky was getting darker. It felt like a monsoon bucking against the motel complex, the wind howling and the window glass shaking.

In the living room, armed with two more cups of coffee, I watched three stupid game shows in a row, where the housewives go bananas over a new washing machine or a super vacuum cleaner. That stuffs not for me, man. No way. I've got bigger and better thing coming. No way in the world good old Laura's going to end up in a dead marriage, waiting for a new appliance to brighten her life. Especially since I'm the kind of girl that likes to taste all kinds of sex, with all kinds of people. I had only one goal in mind, and that was to make it to the top, in the movies.

My daydreams about my own movie were interrupted by a knock on the door at one o'clock.

"Who is it?" I said, without moving from the couch.

"It's me," came the answer.

That certainly helped. I knew a million people named me. I got up and looked through the peephole on the door and saw the maintenance man who worked for the motel complex.

"Go away," I said. "I'm trying to sleep."

He said something but I couldn't hear him.

He put down the toolbox he was carrying, then opened up my door with a passkey. "Hey lady," he said, stepping into the apartment, "I gotta check out the stoves. We had a few complaints about gas leaks and Mr. Crolley got a call from the city inspector . ."

That really threw me. Mr. Crolley, the owner of this complex, never fixed anything at all unless it was an emergency. "You mean there's, a gas leak in my apartment?" I said.

"In a place like this?" he said. "No chance, lady. Hell, you know these luxury apartments have nothing but the best." He started laughing. "But just to be on the safe side, I got to check it out. Boss' orders."

Luxury apartment, bullshit. I knew what he meant. These apartment units were built of the flimsiest material possible. And the stoves were most likely a lot of damaged products rejected from the factory. Mr. Crolley probably picked them up for a few bucks. Since I didn't especially care for getting gassed by a faulty stove, I told him to go ahead and check it out. "Just be quiet about it," I said. "I got a headache."

"Sure thing, lady," he said, and walked back to the kitchen.

I heard him making all sorts of noise out there and went for a look. The stove was in pieces, little bolts, and tubes, spread out all over the floor. I stood near him. Finally he looked up. And I mean looked up. His eyes made a journey up my legs, then to my cunt, which might have been peeking out of my bathrobe.

"Good thing I came when I did, lady. The thing was going to blow any minute. You got a faulty-" He gave me sonic technical term that sounded halfway legitimate. I sat at the kitchen table and watched him. All the time he kept up the banter that seems to be the trademark of a repairman. Once in a while I listened to what he said, but not really.

Whenever I took a sip of coffee, the movement of my arm caused my bathrobe to open at my chest. And every time that happened he was looking right at my tits. I felt like I was in one of those skin flicks we show at the Four Star. Young chick seduces repairman. I wondered what it was like, but no, I thought, I'm too tired.

"How long you been living here, Miss. uh . ."

"Long enough," I said.

"I saw you down on the beach the other day."

"Oh, really? You should have called network news. I'm sure they'd be interested."

"All right, lady, if that's the way you want to be. I was just making conversation." He went back to working on the stove.

He was right about seeing me on the beach. Every now and then I take a walk along the shore just to clear my mind. And I'd seen him around before. He and his wife lived on the other side of the complex, right near the office. The thought of fucking him crossed my mind as I went back into the living room. I decided to play it by ear. On the couch I sat with my legs stretched out on the coffee table, smoking a cigarette, when he came back into the living room.

"Just about finished," he said; and sat in the chair. "You shouldn't have any trouble with it."

He tried not to show it but his eyes had a definite interest in my legs.

"That's nice," I said, and watched the TV again.

When I lit another cigarette, I gave him the once-aver. He wasn't great-looking, in fact he was just an avenge-looking guy, but you could tell he was a worker. His arms were thick-muscled and hairy. He had a look of strength about him. Although he was staffing to go bald in the center of his head, it seemed to go just right for him. I crossed my legs on the table and felt my bathrobe fall away, sliding down towards my ass.

I blew some smoke in the air and took a quick look at his face. His eyes were staring directly at my ass. He had good reason to stare, because I wasn't wearing any panties. I put my legs down on the table, spread them apart and stretched, giving him a full view of my pussy.

"Would you like something to eat?" I said. "Er, I mean would you like something to drink?"

He nodded, said "Sure, if it's not too much trouble.'

I hurried out into the kitchen saying, "Oh, no trouble at all," over my shoulder.

I checked my bathrobe. The belt was closed tight around my waist, keeping the upper half together. I loosened the belt. Just enough so that when I moved, my tits would be visible.

Back in the living room I bent way over when I handed him his coffee. My robe opened up and I could feel my boobs swinging freely in the air. He tried to remain calm as he accepted the coffee, but the growing bulge in his workpants gave him away.

On the couch again I spread my legs wide on the table. With my right hand I rubbed my pussy and I stuck the other hand inside my bathrobe, caressing my left tit. My tongue darted in and out of my mouth like I was eating cunt. I stared at his eyes, then down to my pussy. He got the idea.

The next thing I knew he was kneeling down on the floor, spreading my legs apart. He started to eat my cunt, sucking and teasing my clit. One of his fingers went around to my ass and he stuck it right in my shitter. He tickled me there and sucked my gash harder. His other hand came swirling across my stomach and then he started squeezing my jugs with it.

I rolled my fingers in his hair and pushed his face in deeper so I could really fuck his long tongue.

"Suck my cunt good! Oh, so good! Stick your tongue in deeper! Oooooooh, that's it! Ah, eat it, eat it!"

I rolled my hips up and down and clenched his head with my legs. His raspy tongue stroked the inner walls of my cunt, almost all the way in, like his tongue was a cock. I began to moan when he licked my gash faster and faster and I came a little bit. He could tell I was coming by the way my cunt swiveled on his tongue.

He stood tip and unbuckled his pants. A big hairy cock came poking out of his boxer shorts. He peeled them down real fast and his cock was swinging up and down in the air. Keeping me in the same position, he lifted my legs high in the air and spread them over his shoulder.

Right on target he stuck his growing prick into my juicy cunt. Like a dynamo he slapped away at me, in and out, just fucking and fucking me like I've never been fucked before. Our flesh made a sexy sound each time he pushed his prick into my pussy, spreading my legs farther apart with each stroke, so he could push his dick in my fuck-hole all the way.

Both of his hands came to my tits, squeezing them really rough. With his thumb and forefinger he rolled my nipples and tugged at them. He never let up the pace, fucking me for all he was worth.

His face got real sweaty and his breath came in short gasps. I could tell he was getting ready to come. I moved my hips faster, increasing the tension on my clit as he beat away at my cunt with his hard cock.

A long sigh came out of his lips as he gushed into me, shooting three long loads of sperm, one after the other. My cunt was practically straight up in the air when he flooded me with his jism. Just watching his cock go in and out sent me in a long orgasm, and I kept fucking that prick like there was no tomorrow. When he pulled out of me, some of his cum ran down my legs.

"Whew," I said. "You're a good man to have around."

"Any time, lady. That's what I'm here for."

Then I realized why he kept working here. The pay couldn't be that much, so there had to be other fringe benefits. Like me. There must be a regular bunch of chicks in this complex that he fucked all the time.

"Well, I'll be taking off now," he said, and finished dressing.

"But. I thought you had a little more work to do," I said.

"I did it."

He smiled, picked up his toolbox and walked out. Right then I knew I'd been had by a real operator. Maybe I should stay home from school more often, I thought.

After he left, I took another shower. Man, I must have been the cleanest girl in town. In some respects, anyway. I don't ever remember getting laid this often before. But experience counts in the long run, I thought. Especially in my line of work. Young film-maker on the move.

By the time I was through cleaning up, it was past two o'clock. Just enough time to get ready for my appointment with Professor Winton. Since it was raining out, I just threw on a bra, a faded denim shirt and a thick sweater. No skirts today. Just jeans. I didn't want to ruin any of my clothes because of the rain.

The parking lot was nearly empty when I got to the college. Practically everybody must have had the same idea I did and stayed home from school. It was such gloomy weather. But I had an appointment, and if I wanted to pass my course, then I had to keep it.

There were puddles all over the place and it was raining so hard that by the time I reached the Communication Hall entrance my hair was soaking wet. I looked like a drowned rat, and there was no time to dry out since it was already three o'clock. I burst into Professor Winton's third-floor office just in time.

He was reading a bunch of papers on his desk. After a minute or two he acknowledged my presence and shoved them aside.

"Well, Laura," he said, "I've been looking over your records and I have to tell you they're just not satisfactory. Not satisfactory at all."

I took a seat in a hardback chair before his desk.

"I'm sorry, Professor Winton, but I've had a hard time this semester. Working my way through school makes it hard to keep up with the assignments."

Water was dripping down my face and onto my sweater. I kept brushing my stringy hair out of my face, and I felt all icky from touching it.

"Still," he said, "a lot of people work their way through school, Laura. I can't make any exceptions for you."

I put a worried look on my face and started to cry. That's one of my best features as an actress. I can cry in ten seconds flat if I have to. But my tears had no effect.

"Besides, girl, look at this."

He threw a folder on the desk. I picked it up and looked at it. Inside were my term papers for his course. One A, one C, then four failing marks.

"And this," he said, throwing his attendance book at me.

I looked at my name. There were several red marks after it. It seems I'd skipped more classes than I'd attended.

"You are definitely in trouble, Laura, and though I hate to do this, I'm going to have to fail you," he said, giving me a mean stare. "I thought you might want to know. That way you can drop the course."

"But I can't fail, Profess ... er, I mean, Jack... I can't afford to take this course again. Isn't there anything I can do? Maybe some extra assignments to make up for my poor grades."

"It's too late for that," Professor Winton said. "The semester ends in three weeks."

He spoke with such a final air of authority that I was ready to get up and leave. I couldn't believe it. Winton is such a square man. Only ten years older than me and he's completely out of it. A stem straight-laced professor, old before his time. He acted as if the safety of the whole world depended on everybody passing his stupid film-theory course.

Too bad, I thought. Maybe if he wasn't so straight, I could do something for him. He was good-looking in his way. Short black hair and a big curly mustache. Why in the world did I ever start his course in the first place? I wondered.

He was expecting me to say something, I guess. But I was too upset to think of anything intelligent. Instead I just looked around his office. Pictures of his old graduating class, his doctorate diploma framed on the wall... A picture of his wife and their kid. There didn't seem to be any way out of it.

"Isn't there something I can do, Jack? I really like your course, it's just that I work late at night and it's hard to get up for a nine-o'clock class."

A funny look crossed his face.

"It's hard to say, Laura. There really isn't that much I can tell you. But maybe we can work something out."

His glance shifted from my face to my sweater. But he wouldn't come right out and say anything. I had a feeling about what was going on in his mind. But he looked so straight!

"Don't you think it's a bit warm in here, Laura? Why don't you take off your sweater?"

He got up from his desk, and went to the window, opening it as if he really thought it was too warm. Then he turned around and faced me, and leaned against the window.

"Yeah," I said. "Now that you mention it, it is kind of hot."

I pulled my sweater over my head, lifting my blouse at the same time, but making it look accidental. And my blouse rose up to my shoulders, giving him a good look at my full bra, the peekaboo kind that let's you see the bare nipples.

"Oh," I said, as if I just realized what had happened, and straightened out my blouse.

He walked behind my chair, and kept talking in his dull monotone voice, making me feel like I was listening to one of his lectures again.

"Perhaps we can do something.. ." He paused, then spoke in a louder voice. "You know, Laura, you are an exceptionally beautiful girl, and I would hate to fail you." He was right behind me now. "Perhaps we can And then I felt two large hands on my shoulders. His fingers were playing with my hair. Then his hands began a downward journey that ended at my tits. He began rubbing them through my blouse.

Suddenly his hands were off me. He was still standing behind me.

"Why don't you take off your blouse? It's so hot in here."

A smile came to my lips. I was going to get out of it after all. I heard a familiar sound when I took off my blouse. A zipper being unzipped. Now his hands came right to my tits, lifting them and kneading the nipples with his fingers. His hand went over mine and pulled it behind me until I touched his bare hard cock. And I knew I was going for a, good solid A when he slid it back and forth in my hand. Some drops of cum made my hand sticky as he kept up the motion. His fingers went under my bra, pulling my tits out and over the cups so they pointed straight out.

"Yes, I think we have the situation well in hand," he said as he worked on me. I groaned at his pun, but I would put up with anything as long as I passed.

Now he was standing on the side of me and I stared at his cock. For some reason, maybe because he was a professor, I didn't expect it to be so big. But he had a good-sized prick and he was going to make sure that I knew it. He pulled my face towards his cock and slipped it between my lips. Then he pushed my head back and forth, really hard and fast. But he didn't want to come right away. I could tell. When he started bucking really fast, he pulled it out of my mouth with a popping sound, and squeezed the tip of his cock with his fingers. His hard-on went down a little, but still remained firm.

The professor came around in front of me. He squeezed my nipples really hard so they hurt, and he laughed when I cried out in pain. So he was one of those.

"Get up, Laura," he said.

I stood up and he sat in the chair.

"Take off your pants."

I stepped back, afraid of the way he was acting.

"I said take them off. Now!"

I did, and he sat there fondling his cock as he watched me. I was standing before him in just my bra and panties now. When I started to take off the bra, he got angry.

"No!" he said. "Leave it on."

I kept it on.

"You know, you've been a bad girl, Laura," he said.

Oh, man, I was dealing with a real fruit now, I thought.

"Come here," he said, "and bend over my lap."

I leaned over him and felt his cock straining against my panties. I heard his hand cut through the air. I closed my eyes and then ... Slap! A stinging pain spread across my ass. Then his hand came down again, only harder. Slap! And then again and again he spanked me until it hurt so much I couldn't move.

My legs were wet with his pre-cum, and he pushed his cock against me. His hand slid under the back of my panties and he spanked my bare ass, a little softer but it still hurt. Lifting me up, he peeled the panties down my leg so his cock rubbed against my beaver. Both of his hands came around to my tits and he squeezed them hard, all the while fucking my hips with his prick.

"Aren't you sorry now, Laura? You should be good in my class."

I started to cry from pain and embarrassment.

Half of me hurt, half of me cried out for more. Slap! He hit my ass again.

"I'm talking-to you. Aren't you sorry?"

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Okay. You can get up."

I got up and looked at my ass. It was red, blossoming with his handprints.

"Get down on the floor," he said.

By now I didn't wait. Whatever he said, I did right away. He stood over me, and his hard prick dangled before me.

"I'm going to fuck your tits now," he said, and lowered himself.

His hips were even with my stomach and he put his rigid cock between my tits. It was glistening, and throbbing. I felt its warmth on my skin.

"Press your tits against it."

I pushed my tits against his cock and he started fucking them, poking his prick against my nipples, then sliding it between my jugs.

"Faster!" he said. "Rub-your tits up and down on my cock."

It started to hurt because he was moving so fast, ramming my tits with his cock. His hairy balls slapped against my breastbone. Then he moved up my chest until his cock was in front of my face.

"Suck it now, nice and slow... Suck it, don't lick it. Ah, that's it."

He fucked my lips really fast. My head bobbed up and down, hitting the floor, and it hurt as he kept it up. Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth and worked on my tits again. In a few seconds he shot his load all over my chest, all his white fuck-fluid pouring onto my tits in steady warm spurts. He was moaning and moaning. He fucked my mouth for another minute before he got tired. He got up then and walked towards his desk.

I started to get up but he yelled, "Stay there! I'm not through with you yet."

I lay back on the floor, really mad because I didn't even have a chance to come.

On top of that I had a really sickened feeling about the way he used my body, like I was just something to have sex with and nothing more. Whenever I looked over at the desk, I saw the professor shuffling papers, writing things down in a ledger, acting just like I wasn't even there.

For fifteen minutes he kept this up and still he made me lie there on the floor. Finally he came around the desk and just stared at my body for a minute, exploring every bit of it with his eyes.

His cock was soft when he stood before he and told me to sit up.

"Now you can jerk me off, Laura."

He took my hands and put them on his cock.

Slow and easy I rubbed his prick with my fingers, tugging at it, feeling it start to rise. He made me jerk him off until his cock was completely hard again.

"Okay.., suck it for a while," he said.

I sucked his cock and there was no doubt in my mind that his prick was full length again as it rammed against the back of my throat. Then he pulled his- prick out of my mouth real fast and took a couple of steps back. I leaned forward and jerked him art with both hands.

When he was bucking faster and faster, sliding his rod in and out of my hands, about to come, I made an 0 with my lips and moved my head closer so I could swallow his cock. But he said, "No! Just keep your mouth open. Faster, jerk my cock faster."

My mouth was about half a foot away, from his cock, and my hands were really working on his dick when he shot his load again. . This time a stream of cum splashed through the air. Some of it spurted into my mouth but most of it splattered on my face and my tits.

He moved closer, still coming, still pouring his jizz in the air, and put his cock in my mouth so I could suck the last few drops. With his hands pulling my head into his groin, and his cock pushing into my throat, he started cooing at me.

"You're a good girl, Laura, you really are." Then he pulled away from me and put his dress slacks on again. "I'll see what I can do about your grade, Laura. It should be no problem as long as you come back for a few more sessions like this. Then you'll be all right." He sat behind his desk and did some more paperwork. "You can go now, he said. "I'm finished."

I left madder than a wet hen, but there wasn't anything I could do. All I knew was one thing. If I didn't get a good grade out of this, his name was going to be in all the newspapers, and his sweet wife and kid would find out what kind of creep he really was. I wondered how many other girls had to put out for him. He probably had at least one in every class.

My chest was sticky as I walked down the hall and there was probably a lot of dried cum on my mouth, but no one was around so I didn't care. I got in my car and drove home, still trying to get over what a weird character Professor Winton was.

It was four-thirty when I got back to my apartment, and did the usual. Take a shower to wipe all of the jizz off me. I thought about slowing my sex life down a little, but then what the hell, I thought, the more experience the better off my movie would be. In the next couple of days I'd had more action than most girls have in. a year. And it was the kind of action they can only dream about. But me, I try anything that comes my way.

It was still raining when I made it to work. Such a miserable night. There was hardly anybody in the audience. Either the weather was keeping them away or else we'd been playing the same movie too long. And me, for once my legs weren't itchy, and my cunt was satisfied. The movie didn't even turn me on. Instead, I studied some of the schoolbooks I brought with me while the skin flicks played onscreen. I'd rather get good grades in my other courses in a normal way. Professor Winton was enough for me, and I didn't want to put out for any other professors unless I absolutely had to.

The highlight of the evening was a hooker plying her trade in the audience. From my vantage point in the projection booth I saw her going up and down the rows making her offers to the few guys in the audience. One guy took her up on it. She sat next to him, whispered something, and right away the guy takes a bill out of his wallet and hands it to her. The next minute her head was gone and every now and then I could see it bobbing up and down. In a couple of minutes she sat up, wiped her lips and left. The guy left about five minutes later. I'd seen the hooker around before. She was a regular at our theater. But Mr. Brent didn't mind. Who knows, maybe she helped bring in the customers.

I looked over the new batch of films that came in, the ones that would start on the weekend. Suzy's First Kiss, and The Go-Go Dancer. It wasn't too hard to figure out what she was going to kiss. Since there were three prints of The Go-Go Dancer, I decided to take one home with me. No one would notice it was missing, and I would only keep it for a few days. Then I could enjoy it at home at a private screening.

At the end of the night, I draped my jacket over the reel when I walked out. Nothing to it. Who would stop me? If anybody wanted to search me, it would be for an entirely different reason. Something else out of the usual happened when I got home. I went right to sleep so I could get up in time for all of my classes in the morning. Maybe I'm getting old, I thought, as I lay in bed. Then I was out to sleep right away.

Somehow I made it to Professor Winton's class on time. Nine o'clock in the morning. It was funny the way he lectured the class in front of the room. He didn't look at me once during the whole hour, not even letting on he knew me. All I could think about was the things he did to me in his office the other day. And I thought about when he would do it again... In fact, I was almost looking forward to it. Maybe there's a part of me that likes being used.

During the lunch hour, when I was sitting in the bar across the street where all the students hang out, this guy I'd been giving the eye lately finally took the bait. He was a real cute guy, and he knew it, who was always surrounded by chicks. That's one of the reasons I made the play for him, I guess just to see if I could get him. His name was Alvin, for crying out loud. But what's in a name, anyway. He was one of those guys who always wears the latest fashions, and always looks good in them. His hair was cut short in a new slick style, and he had a real thin black mustache. All in all, I guess he was trying to play the part of a cool dude, always with it. All the time he talked in slang, trying to use the latest "in" words. Unfortunately, he was usually out of date, "Far out!" was his favorite phrase. But man, he looked good enough to eat.

He came over to the booth I was sitting in, where I was trying to digest an imitation hamburger, and drinking a beer. He sat real close to me.

"Hey, Laura, how's it going?" he said.

"How's what going?" I said.

"Oh, you know. . . just things. Everything cool?"

"Yeah, man," I said. "I can dig where you're coming from."

"That's my line, man. Oooh, you're a far out chick, you know it?"

"Think so, Alvin?"

"You know, Laura baby, I've been thinking-"

"Shit, you'll try anything once, Alvin." He laughed. "I like that, you're really something, you know.. ."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "I'm a far-out chick." I wondered how long I could keep up a conversation with him. Any minute now he was going to say, "Oh, wow, right on." But I can put up with any conversation as long as I get what I want. And Alvin was something I wanted. Hell, there's no law that says I have to listen to him when he's fucking me. And he looked like he was a good lay.

"No, really. I've been thinking, Laura. I'd like to go out with you. I think we could really get it on."

He rubbed my shoulder as he talked. I took a long swallow of beer and drained my mug.

"You think so, huh, Alvin?"

"Right on," he said.

I flinched, but agreed. "Buy me a beer, Alvin, and you've got yourself a deal."

He left the booth and returned a minute later with two beers. Man, I was definitely going to have a buzz by the time I made it to my next class.

After taking a few sips, I said, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, I figure tonight we could have a few drinks, maybe go dancing or go to a movie, and then ..."

The look in his eye finished the sentence for him. So he thought he could get in my pants on the first date, huh? Well, he was 100 percent right because I don't believe in wasting time. But I had a different kind of movie in mind. A private showing at my apartment of The Go-Go Dancer. And since I didn't have to work tonight, I was looking forward to a good time.

"I'll pick you up at eight, Laura."

"Right on, Alvin," I said. He got up to leave, but I called him back to the booth. "Hey, Alvin, aren't you forgetting something? Like where I live?"

He laughed and said, "Oh, yeah, that's right. It would help if I knew where you lived, heh, heh."

Man, what a dummy. Maybe it's true what they say about all brains and no beauty, all beauty and no brains. Since Alvin was good-looking ... I gave him my address, and I was looking forward to it since I hadn't gone on an honest-to-goodness date in so long I forgot what they were like.

When I went to my next class, I was a little bit drunk, not much, but just enough to relax and ignore the lecture. And Ken was there. Lately he'd been avoiding me ever since I gave him that blow-job in the darkroom. He had to sit next to me because that was the last empty desk in the whole room.

"How've you been, Ken?" I asked.

He shrugged and said, "Fine, how about you?"

I brushed my hair out of my eyes and inhaled so my tits filled out. "I'm getting along okay, Ken. There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Just then the professor started yelling at me, saying the lecture was at the front of the class and if I didn't stop talking, I'd lead the discussion. Needless to say, I shut up, and waited until the end of the class to hit Ken with my idea.

"How'd you like to be in the movies, Ken?"

"Come again," he said.

"I'd like to, but this is hardly the place for it."

He laughed.

"I'm serious, though. You know how we're always studying how to make movies. . ." He nodded. "Well, I've been planning on making one."

"Don't tell me, Laura. Let me guess. Your movie's going to make me a star and they're going to pack me off to Hollywood-right?"

We were out in the hallway now, and he was walking real fast, like he was in a big hurry to get away from me. I touched his arm.

"Listen, Ken, I'm serious. I'm going to make a skin flick and I want you to be in it because you have such an outstanding characteristic."

I let my hand drop down and brush his pants, right between his legs. Just for an instant I traced the outline of his cock with my fingers. He was ready to listen.

"What I'm trying to say, Ken, is that you're really equipped for the part."

He realized I wasn't kidding about the movie. "What about Karen?" he said.

"Who's Karen?" I asked.

"She's my fiancee."

"Oh, yeah, the girl in the theater. Yeah, that's all right. She can be in it, too."

"Laura, I don't know about that. It sounds crazy, but-"

"Think of all the fun you'll have."

He smiled, told me he'd think about it, and left. I was finally in business. I was sure he would go for it just to get another chance at my body. And after tonight, Alvin would be game when he saw how much I could pleasure him. Now the only thing left was to round up some chicks. I'd need a couple more girls just for variety. A few of my crazy girl friends would go for it, if the money was right. But there wouldn't be any money until after I sold the film. Who else could I get?

Then I thought of my neighbor! Right next door to me. She was about thirty-five years old, unemployed, and I knew she would be willing to try something different. All she did was sit around her apartment all day and drink. Cheryl was a real lush. But an attractive lush. It shouldn't be too hard to convince her.

I came home from school with daydreams in my head. At last I was getting around to it, setting everything in motion. At last I was on my way to making a real movie. Now all I had to do was think of a plot. And the equipment I needed I could borrow from the school. All I had to do was tell them I was going to do some extra work on my own. And it was going to be work, I thought. But a lot of pleasure at the same time.

At five o'clock I knocked on Cheryl's door, just three steps away from my apartment. On the twentieth knock she opened the door, leaning on it for support.

"What's going on?" she said, slurring her words.

"Mind if I come in?" I said.

She let me in saying, "Sure, why not?"

She staggered into the living room, holding onto my shoulders for balance. I must have caught her right in the middle of a binge. And though the booze was taking its toll on her, she still had a nice body, the kind of figure that a lot of guys go for. Tall, slim, nice big tits, and real long legs. The part the guys wouldn't go for were her pale skin, and the marks around her eyes.

Cheryl led me around her apartment, making extravagant gestures with her arms as if she were conducting a royal tour of a palace. When you came down to it, her apartment looked just like mine. Every apartment in this whole complex looked exactly alike. But I acted like I was impressed as she showed me around. She seemed to forget that I'd been in her place a number of times before, drinking coffee with her and just passing the time. She stopped talking all of a sudden, then kind of fell, kind of sat onto a big studio couch buried under a pile of confession magazines. Looking around, I saw practically a dozen empty liquor bottles all over the place. On her coffee table, on the floor, on the television. I knew she drank quite a bit, but she never drank in this quantity before.

"What's the occasion, honey?" she said.

"Just a friendly visit. I mean after all, we are neighbors."

"Not for long," she said. She rambled on and on about how she couldn't afford to pay the rent any more and her unemployment checks weren't enough. "My money goes just like that." She snapped her fingers. "I have so many expenses, you know." Her arm waved at all the empty bottles in the room.

"Cheryl, that's why I came. I kind of figured you were having a tough time making ends meet." I lit a cigarette, and thought about what to say to make her go for it "How would you like to pick up a little extra spending money?"

Her foggy eyes cleared for a moment. "Yeah? Doing what?"

She poured herself a stiff shot of booze, downed it in one gulp and set her glass back on the table.

"It's easy," I said. "All you have to do is act in a movie."

"Oh, sure. . . What kind of movie?"

"Uh, well, I guess you'd call it a sex movie."

She gave me a weird look, but then it seemed like she was considering the proposition, like it wasn't too unusual for her. "And you'll pay me for it?"

"At the end of the movie, when I sell it It's all on speculation."

"Maybe you got yourself a deal, honey. Let's drink to it."

She stood up to get me a glass, but she didn't make it. Cheryl wobbled on her feet for an instant, then fell back on the couch, passed out.

So much for our little talk. I was almost out the door when I turned back. She looked so uncomfortable in her position. First I took off the cardigan sweater she had on, then took off her blouse. When I took off her bra, my hands fell onto her tits. They were warm and firm, and with a little envy I realized she had a bigger bust than I did. I couldn't help feeling her all over as I undressed her. She looked so inviting, and her nipples popped erect at my touch. But I had to get back to my apartment, so I took a blanket from her linen closet and draped it over her sleeping form.

It was time to get dressed for good old hip Alvin. Or undressed, I should say. My outfit was going to be so wild that he wouldn't be able to take his clothes off fast enough when he saw me.

First I took a long hot bath, filling the tub with cherry-scented bubble bath. I stayed in the water long enough so my whole body smelled good enough to eat. After I got out, I listened to some music on the stereo, just relaxing. Walking around the apartment naked, I started getting in the mood for Alvin. Tonight was going to be a night exclusively devoted to fucking.