Chapter 18
The changeover didn't take long but it bothered Peggy. There was only one opportunity for a pose with Jim and that was hurried, leaving her unsatisfied. And then there was a series of poses with a very languid blonde youth with hair longer than Peggy's and very little interest in-well, the real elements of posing.
Jim had said he needed that type of picture for a client, so Peggy had agreed to pose. But the young man had been dreamy and only half-aware through most of the posing session, so that Peggy had little satisfaction out of him.
Jim had afterwards told her the languid youth was hooked and posed only for the price of a quick fix. As if that sort of thing explained a lack of interest in-posing.
These days Peggy had Grandma comfortably ensconced with her two bottles of gin a day and coming close to regaining a long faded belief in miracles. But even with Grandma eliminated as a problem, Peggy had others. Mostly because the studio was being altered and she was practically ousted... For several days now there hadn't been any posing at all and Peggy's little cunt was bothering her. Not seriously. Just enough to know it wasn't being used.
So she wandered. That was pleasant. Even the postman with his tired feet seemed to notice a difference in her-and became more aware of her moving down the street, pausing a little longer to look after her. And sigh.
Mister Mulhaney stopped patting Peggy on the head and instead began swatting her fanny gently with his nightstick, a subtle distinction but one Peggy recognized long before the rather horrifying idea came to Mister Mulhaney and he went to confession over his sinful thoughts.
Jules Suliman had recovered from his fright over the Zaparte dust-up and was once again eyeing little girls' legs and luring them to the gap in the counter for an extra candy and an opportunity for Jules to feel a tittie or brush against a fanny.
He made decided overtures to Peggy after seeing her stroll by, her little derriere switching to that inaudible music, her pelvis rocking and tilting-only a fraction, but men like Jules would notice it-and know what they're noticing.
Peggy, smiling provocatively, moving her little rump, let Jules lure her to the gap in the counter, taking his candy and allowing him an overlong feel, right up her leg and almost to her cunt, licking the candy placidly and seeing his face grow red and his neck swell in his collar.
She tuned down his invitation to the "harem room" issued in such a husky, gasping whisper that it was almost unintelligible and left him staring hot-eyed after her, muttering to himself. "The little bitch is getting it. She's getting laid..."
These were just indications, but Peggy savored them. She knew there was an awareness of her, of her body, even of her status of getting- posing, however tenuous.
So that by the time the studio re-opened-not that many even knew it had been closed-in its new guise of movie studio Peggy had accumulated a lot of emotional impacts-and a great many stares at her legs and bosom. And had build-in urges.
Ken's first scenario for Peggy was that of a kidnapped heiress held by a gang of four men in a basement apartment (Jim's). The heiress, clad only in a towel left after they had taken her clothes, seduces her captors one by one.
So that Peggy would be more comfortable in the role Jim, wearing an unaccustomed and rather bushy mustache, would play her number one victim of seduction, and Ken-who opted for a beard but had it vetoed-her second, with two husky young men as third and forth seductees.
The opening scene went well. In that Peggy was carried in, struggling with her four captors, so that her clothes-a wardrobe supplied by Ken who thought jodhpurs being ripped off would provide more stimulating and revealing action-were torn piece by piece from her writhing body, until she faced her captors (front toward the camera) naked and seething. Peggy seethed realistically. One of the husky young men had pinched her fanny.
She was flung face downward on a bed, her hands fastened to the head board, her feet tied with her own stockings-again Ken's touch-to the foot. Jim, as head abductor, flung a towel across her small and violently wriggling rump. Violently wriggling because Peggy had gotten into her role with enthusiasm. She even sobbed, heaving and writhing on the bed so that her bubbies got plenty of action. And the action set up delightful anticipation, fresh fires being banked against the time when Jim would sit beside her, attempting to still her sobs.
The ripping off of the jodhpurs and her gradual exposure to the fierce glares of her captors had triggered interesting things in her little cunt. In addition there were audible comments from behind the bank of lights and the camera that told her other men were out there, seeing her stripped and pawed by her captors. That, too, was exciting.
Except for the almost inadvertent viewing by Ken, she had never before had an audience to her performance and it was heady stimulation.
Jim sat down on the edge of the bed, on the side away from the camera so that lights and camera could focus on Peggy's slender body, twisting and turning in her bonds.
As planned, the twisting and turning-Peggy had to do a little extra humping to effect it- the towel slipped off. As Jim leaned over to replace the towel Peggy, on instructions from behind the camera, rolled over, her little bubbies shaking, her face a mask of tragic appeal, those big eyes pleading with Jim, her soft lips trembling. She indicated her hands, mouthed, "It hurts!" and looked pathetic.
Jim, after a surreptitious glance around for his fellow conspirators-gone to arrange for ransom, undid her bonds. Slowly Peggy flexed her arms, smiling her gratitude at Jim-and sliding her arms up to encircle his neck, pulling his head down for a long, slow kiss.
After that Peggy needed no further coaching from behind the counter. Nor did Jim. His arms went around her, stroking her back, gliding down the length of her, until they grasped her little rump. Peggy half sat up, pressing her bubbies against Jim's shirt, tugging him close. And his hands under her rounded little buttocks half lifted her. She kicked helplessly at the stocking bonds around her ankles, but they didn't come loose as per the script.
Not that it mattered. Her legs were free enough to move. They were just anchored.
She caressed Jim's neck and ran her hands down the exciting muscles of his shoulders. Jim bent and kissed one bubbie, his tongue darting out to lick at her nipple. Peggy sighed, throwing back her head. Jim's tongue slid upward, caressing her throat and Peggy moaned. Thrusting her breasts tighter against Jim's shirt, she drew back, fingers reaching for buttons. Their hands entangled, and the shirt was ripped off, exposing Jim's chest.
She reached for his zipper. There was a brief struggle there. The zipper was stuck and then gave way with sudden surge, releasing Jim's prick a little prematurely-for the picture-not a moment too soon for Peggy.
Peggy watched, wide-eyed, a constantly renewed nymph, each time as fascinated and amazed by the phenomenon of a swollen, distended prick. The script, at this point, called for Peggy to have last-minute qualms-and start a struggle.
Jim started the struggle and found he had a cooperative partner, not an opponent. It may have spoiled a dramatic moment in Ken's masterpiece, but for Peggy it could not have mattered less. Jim was naked, his prick available -and she opened her legs, waiting, her cunt moist and ready, her breath coming gulpily, her hands digging into his shoulders to pull him on to her.
She saw and felt his prick go in-and that momentary hesitation before he started the long drive up her tunnel, to explode in gorgeous Technicolor and silent bombs.
She shivered with delight as they reached climax-and then fell limply back on the bed,-only her hands moving spasmodically and her chest heaving, giving motion to her little bubbies. And Jim slid down beside her-on the side away from the camera-to leave her exhausted body in view.
Dimly she heard someone say "Cut" and the general bustle of released tensions behind the camera. And then one clear voice, speaking with deep admiration. "Boy, I've seen fucking-but not like that kid can deliver."
Peggy whipped off the bed and charged toward the camera, forgetting that one leg was still anchored. And fell flat, glaring up toward the camera. "That's not fucking! That's posing -and acting. It's not fucking for real. It's not."
Behind the camera she heard Ken's voice reassuring her and reprimanding the earlier speaker, and the speaker's voice again. "Okay. If you say so. You're boss. It's posing. But you could'a fooled me. I sure thought it was some damn fine fucking."
Jim picked her up, comforting her and almost starting a second sequence that wasn't in the script.
The second sequence-as written-was with Ken in another room-another corner of the same set, where Ken was fiercely-and a bit over-dramatically-cleaning a gun. Peggy, presumably having conquered Jim with sex-or left him exhausted-is on the prowl, presumably for the way out, having neglected even to pick up the discarded towel, so that her exit, if it is to be achieved, will be somewhat spectacular. But such are the vagaries of scripts. This way gave her an opportunity to seduce Ken, a remarkable easy task the way it was handled.
Peggy conquered him with The Rocking Chair, since he was already seated and Ken's ingenuity in establishing a bed in the living room had rather petered out. It was perhaps just as well that the camera's point of view was from behind Ken, centering, as was only proper, on the brave but naked heroine. Ken's expression, from the inception of Peggy's seduction was one of fatuous affection rather than that of a criminal being lured.
And Peggy sat gingerly on his prick, watching in fascination as it drove up her cunt, happily feeling the bulb rub the sides of her tunnel and move deep into her.
She reached a twisting, open-mouthed climax, clutching at Ken, and Ken held her tight, his hands soothing and comforting her back as she laid her head on his shoulder. It was a most satisfactory pose.
For her third seduction, Peggy was to sneak into another room and close herself in, peeping out through the crack and then turn, to discover the third abductor clad only in shorts (no reason given) stretched out on a cot, staring at her. Either the young man was a competent actor or he had not really been thoroughly briefed on the fact that Peggy was to appear before him naked and still breathing heavily from her last performance. He seemed genuinely surprised.
And didn't react quite as quickly as the script called for, so that Peggy nearly strangled him. The subsequent wrestling exhilarated Peggy and made the scene quite realistic. And in the wrestling he lost his shorts. Which facilitated matters.
Peggy, seeming to attempt to strangle him, sat back on his penis and rammed it well up her cunt a little before she had intended to. But was happily not about to correct so pleasant a mistake.
They rode together to a rousing climax, and Peggy left him reluctantly. He really had a wonderful prick, long and quite large, that had given her moments of sheer delight. Perhaps, she thought, he could be re-hired for later shows.
Peggy was not really weary but she did feel that the final sequence could have been played with the fourth abductor creeping up on her. Instead, she sought him out and came upon him in the kitchen-again this one was clad only in shorts-doing something inept at the stove. He turned and caught her just as she would have leaped on his back.
This time the wrestling was standing up and pleasantly stimulating. Peggy could feel his prick through his shorts before he conveniently lost them-and laid Peggy across a table, her legs dangling, while he aimed his pecker up her little box and drove it home, continuing a form of wrestling that Peggy could appreciate. It ended with his bulb far up her tunnel, pumping hot and creamy juices into her as she spouted her juices down her tunnel, dribbling them out her little slit. And lay back, happily bushed, across the table.
Yes, she decided, acting in movies was vastly superior to posing. The action was faster and the variety greater.