Chapter 11
"Go get Don on the phone. I want to talk to him," Sid stated, walking around behind his desk. He was all business now.
"Sure," Sue answered, adjusting her hair in place. She walked briskly to the door, unlocked it, and went to the outer office. Her phone was lit up when she got to her desk, but didn't bother to answer the party that was waiting. She dialed Don's dressing room.
"Hello," Don answered.
"This is Miss Kelly, Mr. Baker's secretary."
"Yes, I know." Don sounded annoyed.
"Mr. Baker would like to speak with you," she said crisply.
"Alright, put him on."
Sue buzzed Sid's phone. "Mr. Melton is on the line."
"Hello, Don?" Sid sounded nervous. "What the hell's going on?"
"I just feel that our relationship has gone on long enough and that the show needs a change." Don was sickening sweet. His tone of voice whinned as he talked nervously. He hated handling business affairs and was annoyed at Sid for having called him.
"I've kept you in the top ten for over ten years, that's a pretty good record," Sid pleaded. He was making one last attempt at keeping his position as producer on the show. He could feel himself failing as he talked, but was going to try anyway.
"I think I had a little to-do with that, if you don't mind!" Don sounded indignant. "I'm the one that's on every week, not you!"
"Oh, I know, Don. I didn't mean it that way. You know what I mean, getting the right writers, guest stars, trying to save money on sets ... you know."
"Talk to Stu Cole about this. This is his affair, not mine. I'm a comic and have to go to work now."
"I talked to Stu about this and he said it was your idea, not his," Sid spoke boldly.
"Well, you talk to him about things like this. I don't want to." Don hung up the receiver.
"That son of a bitch!" Sid hissed, then slammed down the receiver. He turned around in his swivel chair swiftly and stared at the wall for a moment. Then he turned around just as quickly and picked up the telephone.
"Get me Ten Star Pictures please, Miss Kelly."
Bill Pryor had arrived at ABS at ten o'clock that morning and had reported to studio 33. He was one of the group singers on the Don Melton Show and had worked the show for five years. He was in his early forties with slightly greying hair. He was a handsome man that stood six feet tall with large square shoulders and a strong body. He had walked over to the coffee machine and was pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid. "Good morning, Bill."
"Good morning, Dana," Bill replied, smiling at the aging violin player. "Alot of music today?"
"No, not a lot. We'll be outa here by noon."
"Good. I have a record date at two and that'll give me enough time to have lunch."
"You been keepin' busy?" Dana asked, stirring his coffee.
"Pretty much. I've been doin' this show and the Carol Williams Show. The schedules work out where I can do both."
"That's good. I get to work a couple of shows too.
It makes it nice financially, doesn't it?"
"It sure does, until summer gets here and nobody is filming."
"That's why you're supposed to save your money ... for the long, cold summer."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. You get used to makin' money and you live accordingly."
"I always try to save a little out of each pay check."
"You're single too. That makes a difference. I have kids and a wife," Bill said reflectively. "At least I have a wife and kids now ... I don't know how long that situation is going to last."
"Oh, havin' problems?" Dana asked, standing closer to Bill.
"Yeah, a few." He smiled and sipped his coffee.
"That's why I never wanted to get married ... it never works out. I stick with my music and my life doesn't get complicated," Dana smiled. "Except for this morning. I met this chick on the elevator and she's got eyes for me. Maybe I'll get lucky."
"I hope you do," Bill said, refilling his paper cup.
"I gotta get back. My break is over," Dana remarked, going back to the orchestra pit.
Bill spotted the other singers and went to sit with them.
They all nodded their hellos and went back to reading or knitting. There was a lot of wasted time in the studios for the singers. They had to sit around while the band pre-recorded everything, then they put the voices on over the band track. They had to be there though, to rehearse with the band while they laid down a track.
Bill sat and drank his coffee and watched while the dancers went through their numbers on the empty stage. They all wore sneakers and didn't make noise as they danced, while the band was recording.
There were a couple of the girl dancers that he would have liked to swing with. One was Nancy, the other was Ginny. Ginny had the biggest tits he had ever seen on a dancer. He wondered if they didn't hurt her when she moved around so much. He noticed she wore a brassiere that looked like a halter it was so large. It was four inches wide in the back and pushed the lovely mounds of flesh over the sides of the front. Whenever she wore a low-cut top, the extra breasts spilled out to form a tempting cleavage that he would love to get his hands on.
He watched her as she glided across the floor, leaping, turning and twisting to the sound of the music and the beat of the drum.
If it worked out that he were to get a divorce, Ginny would be the first girl he would date. She was going with the director of the show, but he would ask anyway.
"Singers!" the choral conductor called. He was a tall, good looking man in his middle thirties. He was a sharp wit and a fine vocal arranger. He and Bill had a lot of good times together in the studios and in their private lives.
"Hi, Tom Lee!" Bill called out as he walked sideways between the audience seats toward the bandstand.
"Good morning, Bill Pryor!" Tom answered. "Get around David and sing the first production number. He wants to hear how the rubato part goes."
The singers all gathered around David Alan and began to sing. The number lasted four minutes and the singers were in the first part and the ending.
When they had finished, the singers returned to their seats in the audience section and went back to whatever they were doing before.
Ina Freeman arrived and ran over her material. Bill was amused to see her attraction for Smoke, the drummer. God! Everybody swings around here! Drummers, guest stars, and, I hope ... me! Bill reflected as he watched the game of life going on before him.
Bill went to Kiko's for lunch. He saw everyone there. Dana had a good looking chick with him and he hoped that he got to swing with her. Bill would have liked to himself.
The pre-record didn't start for the singers until one o'clock. This meant that Bill would never make his two o'clock record date. He wondered why he had accepted something so close to the Melton show pre-record, but why not try? Sometimes they were lucky and got out early. He went to a phone booth in the hallway.
"Hello John? This is Bill Pryor. I'm stuck. Can you make a record thing at two?" he listened intently. Bill used John to sub for him a lot. John didn't get much work otherwise and was usually available. "Good. It's at World Records on Sunset. Be there at two. Thanks John, I really appreciate it." He hung up the receiver and went to stage 33.
The pre-recording went smoothly. It nearly always did. The singers were sharp and didn't waste any time cutting their parts. There was about six hours of rehearsal before the actual recording and everyone knew the music pretty well by the time they recorded.
Bill didn't know what to do after they had finished. He went out to the wagon and got a cup of coffee and sat reading the trades.
"Hello, Bill," Ginny said, sitting at his table.
"Hi, Ginny, sit down, please!" he offered, gesturing with his hand.
Ginny was in a Gypsy costume. It had puffy sleeves and a low cut neck, which Bill eyed instantly. The fluffy breasts wiggled above her dress as she moved about sitting.
Bill swallowed hard and tried to look away. She was the horniest looking chick in the building to him and he would love to jump on her bones!
"You're not on camera this week, are you?" she asked, sipping a tall lemonade.
"No, we lucked out again ... just sing and go home."
"Are you going to the party tonight?" she asked, turning her head to one side. She liked Bill and wished that he weren't married. It would be nice to run away with him for a few hours, she thought, looking at his square jaw and handsome features.
"Yeah, that's why I'm hanging around. I don't want to go home, my old lady and I are hassling," he said, looking into his coffee. "I think I'll get one of those portable dressing rooms out in the hall and flake out for awhile. I'm tired. I was up late last night at a record session."
"There are a lot of empty ones this show. I'm gonna get one myself and crash for awhile. I was out all night partying and have one big hangover! Boy! Did I get stoned last night!" Ginny smiled as she sipped her drink. "I think I'll have another one of these to help put out the fire."
Bill watched her as she went back to the counter. Boy! Would he like to spend the afternoon with that!
Ginny's breasts bounced slightly when she walked back to where Bill was sitting. She sat down, sipping the cool liquid.
Bill was a writer on the side. He wrote mysteries and juvenile novels when he wasn't singing. He thought about all the time he had to kill and it made him think of looking for a place where he could take a nap and do some work on a mystery story he was working on.
"I have a run-through at four. It's three now and I think I'll go catch some sleep," Ginny said, rising from the steel table.
"Take care, I'll probably see you at run-through," he called after her.
Bill finished his coffee and got up slowly. He walked down the hall looking in portable dressing rooms until he found an empty one. He went in and closed the door behind him.
The portable dressing rooms were small. They had a mirror and makeup table with two folding chairs. A couch and plenty of hooks along the wall to hang clothes. There was no ceiling. It was open and you could hear people talking as they walked by. They weren't aware of this and sometimes you heard conversations that were not intended for others to hear.
Bill put his brief case on the dressing room table and sat down in one of the chairs. He flipped on the light switch and was almost blinded by the twenty lights staring him in the face. He grimaced and began unscrewing the hot lights until there was only two left on.
He got out his pad and pencil and began to write.
ABS was always busy. There were people walking up and down the halls constantly, but this didn't bother Bill. He began to write by hand, the inspiration pouring out of him onto the paper.
Soon he tired and went to the couch and reclined on the leather couch, using a small pillow for his head. He was fast asleep.
Bill could sleep anywhere. The noises of the people shouting outside didn't bother him in the least. Men were yelling, moving sets and equipment in the hall, but none of this bothered Bill. He slept soundly for thirty minutes.
After he awakened, he put all his writing materials back into his brief case and left the tiny cubicle. He walked toward stage 33. He thought he would like to watch the last half hour of the run-through.
Bill passed by a portable dressing room near the entrance to stage 33 and noticed the door hanging open. He glanced in casually and saw Ginny lying on the couch with her Gypsy costume on. She was asleep. Her long dark hair hung down over the end of the couch and her breasts protruded from her dress, almost to the nipple.
No one was in the hallway at that moment. Bill couldn't resist. He went into the dressing room and sat down beside the beautiful dancer and put his hand on her arm.
"Ginny!" he whispered. "Ginny! Don't you have a run-through to do? It's four thirty," Bill said, leaning down over her.
Ginny opened her eyes slowly. She reached out and put her hands on Bill's face.
"What a groovy way to wake up!" she said, pulling him down on top of her. She hugged him gently, still in a sleepy haze, then pushed him back so she could look at him.
"I'd better close that door if you have those kind of feelings," Bill said, rising. He could feel his cock leap forward as he went to close the door. Returning to the couch, he watched her eyes remain fixed on his crotch.
"Com'ere," she whispered, moving over on the couch.
Bill followed her suggestion and lay down beside her.
"I always like to sleep with someone," she commented, putting her arm around Bill's neck and playing with his hair.
"Did you miss the run-through?" Bill asked, kissing Ginny's nose.
"Yes. I don't care. It's the last show and I miss one stinkin' rehearsal. Fuck 'em," she said, opening her mouth and putting her lips on his. Her hand held Bill's cheek tightly to her mouth as she kissed the open mouth. She put her leg over his, resting her crotch on his leg.
Bill's breathing came hard. His penis was jamming into her leg, exciting him more. Ginny's soft, wet lips writhed around on his mouth, kissing him sensually. He reached for the top of her dress and filled his hand with the largest, softest breast he had ever felt. He put his hand down inside her brassiere, and let the flesh ooz itself around his hand and fingers.
Ginny reached down for his penis. She put the rod in her hand and began milking the hard muscle while she rolled her head around, kissing Bill's open mouth. His tongue felt good when he put it in her mouth. She held his jaw with her other hand while she put her lips around his pink gland and sucked it.
Bill leaned up on one elbow, never taking his mouth from hers. With his left hand he put it up her dress and down inside her panties. Her skin was soft and smooth to his touch as he rubbed her stomach, then searched in the small patch of hair between her legs for the opening.
His finger slid into the soft wet haven smoothly. He began to finger fuck Ginny until she started to moan as they kissed. He continued sticking his tongue in and out of her mouth, simulating giving her head as he pushed and pulled his finger in and out of her wet pussy.
"Oh, shit, Bill! You've gotta fuck me!" Ginny moaned, holding onto his prick. "Take it out and fuck me!" she cried, breathing in short, quick spasms.
Bill got down on his knees and pulled her panties off, then buried his face in her crotch. The salty taste of her vagina thrilled him as he began repeating in her quim what he had been doing to her mouth.
Ginny cried out. Bill stopped his endeavors and handed her a pillow.
"Scream into that. Everybody in the building will hear us if you don't," he reminded, then dived back into the furry grove. He put his hands around behind her and held onto her firm buttocks as he licked into her depth. The lips of her cunt seemed to suck at his face as he licked up and down the beautiful gash.
He found her clitoris and kissed it gently, then began rubbing it with his tongue. Ginny went wild. She hunched and moved back and forth, riding his tongue with her body. Bill could hear voices in the hall. He stopped his actions to listen.
"I don't know where she is. I'm not responsible for her actions. I just like to take her out and fuck 'er," the director's voice boomed in the hall.
Ginny frowned at this remark.
"That dirty bastard! I'll fix him!" she muttered, grabbing Bill's head. "Eat me some more. . .you are a beautiful guy!" she said, easing his head back into her crotch.