Chapter 9
When she was conscious again, Jill found herself in her dressing room. The yellow walls depressed her, and she would have gotten to her feet and got out of there if it weren't for the fact that she was still naked under the blanket. It was one thing to show her nakedness to people in front of a camera, but when she wasn't doing a part, she had no intention of suddenly displaying herself.
She waited for a long time, and then the door to the dressing room opened and a fully dressed Erik Gordon came in.
"Well, how are you feeling?" he asked.
"I'm fine, now," she admitted. "That had to be the most fantastic climax I've ever had. My God! I've never before felt anything like it."
"I ought to feel insulted," he said, smiling as he pulled a wooden chair next to the bed and sat down beside her. "After all, you're telling me that I'll never be able to do something like that to you by myself."
"Oh I don't know," Jill shrugged. "After all, with some more practice, you just might be able to do it."
"Are you willing to let me try?" he asked.
"Well, I am under contract with you for the rest of the movie," she pointed out.
"True," he nodded, "but remember, the movie is just about over. The final scenes, such as the close-ups of the female body, can be accomplished with your double."
"Oh," she said, feeling a little disappointed, knowing that in order to stay with Erik she would have to finally accede to his request that she sign a long-term contract with him.
"Have you thought about the proposition I put forth to you?" he asked, standing and walking over to the sink where he drew a glass of water and drank it.
"Erik, does my making movies for you mean that much to you?" she asked, insistent on knowing the real reason why he wanted her nearby.
"It's the only way I can keep you living with me," he shrugged.
"That's not true, and you know it."
"You mean marriage?" he smiled. "I thought about it, I admit, but I'm human, Jill. How do I know you really feel about me the way I'd like you to feel? How do I know you aren't just marrying me for what you can get out of me?"
"Poor Erik," she smiled. "So that's what life has meant to you all this time. You've spent so much time getting things out of other people, you think that's all people want from you."
"Be sensible," he insisted, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. "I'm an old, fat man, in my early fifties. You're in your early twenties. Is it reasonable that you would show an interest in me?" he asked.
"It might not be reasonable for some other young woman to show an interest in you," Jill told him. "But I don't judge a person by his age, his looks, or his weight. I judge him by feeling, and Erik, you've given me feeling the like of which no one man has ever previously done."
"I'd love to believe that," he shrugged.
"You can," she assured him. "But I don't expect you to take anything on faith. Remember, you made me an offer-anything I wanted if I was willing to stay with you."
"I remember," he nodded. "That's why I'm here."
"You just scoffed at marriage, as if it's something meaningless, accusing me of possibly wanting to marry you for what I can get from you. Erik, if what you've said is true, then I'll have countless movie offers once this film comes out, and I'll have anything in the way of money and possessions that I'll ever need."
"I suppose," he nodded.
"But what I really want is you. I want your name, your love, and I want to have the children who will one day inherit all this. Then a time will come for us to retire and simply enjoy life. You know, they say that if a man stays sexually active, he has a good chance of living into his nineties, if not longer."
"What are you getting at?" he asked.
"Well, if you feel as strongly about me as you claim, then I'm the one woman who can keep you sexually active the rest of your life, and it'll be a long life. Why we can have at least fifty years together, and that's more than many married couples have when the husband and wife are very close in age."
"How the hell can you love a fat man like me?" he asked.
"How the hell can you love an empty-headed little whore like me, whom you've seen fucked countless times by studs posing as actors?"
"You know that doesn't mean a damn thing to me."
"Well?" she asked. "Why should your age, your weight, or anything else mean a damn thing to me? All that matters is, dumb as it sounds, I love you. I'll prove it, if you wish. I'll stay on at your house without a contract, and I'll act in any films you want, and degrade myself in any way you wish if it'll make you happy. I'll do anything I can to prove that I love you. Yes, Erik, I love you. Now I've said it, and I'm not sorry."
"Well I have to admit, I love you, too. I guess I've taken a chance on everything else in life, why not marriage?"
"Why not!" she smiled, as he bent to kiss her, and she knew somehow, that her days of slavery had just begun, but what wonderful slavery it was all going to be.