Chapter 6

Melinda could never go back to the diner, so she didn't bother explaining her reasons for quitting. Instead, it was back to job-hunting. This time, however, her prospects had improved. She was a great believer in success depending on being in the right place at the right time and when she inquired about a position as a waitress at the Footlight Cafe, she was thrilled to discover that her services were needed.

The restaurant was located between Broadway and Eighth Avenue in the theatre district, a favorite dining spot of theatre-goers, producers and established performers, many of whose framed, glossy photos hung from the walls. All of the waiters and waitresses employed by management were aspiring actors and actresses and the competition for a job there was usually stiff. But whereas Melinda was once turned down for this reason, she now found a willing employer in entrepeneur Cy Silvermann.

"Like I told you last time you were here," Cy explained, "we get more applicants than we can possibly use, but the turnover's pretty hectic. Girls like you get spotted by a producer and BAM! They're on the next flight to Hollywood."

"Well, with my kind of luck, I'll probably be working here for the rest of my life, "Melinda pessimistically replied.

"I think not," Mr. Silvermann optimistically disagreed, peering over his wire-rimmed spectacles. "You've got the look."

"The look?"

"Yeah, the look. The look of a future star."

Melinda's hopes momentarily brightened. Then she realized Silvermann's smile was a teaser. "You probably say that to all the hired help."

"I do," he admitted, "but usually I mean it and sometimes I'm right. Who knows? It's a crazy business."

Accepting that conclusion, Melinda overlooked her prospects as an actress and devoted her energies to her new job. She assimilated quickly, easily making friends with her fellow employees and performing her duties efficiently. As for meeting influential show business people, she rarely got the opportunity to serve a recognizable theatrical agent, producer, writer or entertainer, but the mere presence of such a celebrity in the restaurant kept her hopes alive.

One day, however, she overheard an interesting conversation between two distinguished-looking gentlemen in a booth.

"I'm over budget as it is," the man with curly gray hair and moustache lamented. "If we shoot those sequences out of town, I'll be up to my ears in red ink."

"But you know the film's guaranteed a profit," his burly but mild-mannered associate argued. "Nothing's guaranteed nowadays," the filmma ker scoffed. "Sure, my last three pictures scored big, but they were produced at half the cost of this project."

Curious, Melinda hustled over to her newfound friend Jennie who was preparing a salad near the pick-up counter. "Say, Jen, who's that guy sitting at Table E5?" she asked.

Jennie, the showbiz expert, paused and squinted across the dining room. "Ha!" she snorted. "Forget it."

"But who is he?" Melinda persisted. "Les Turner."

Melinda pondered the name. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"He produces and directs porno movies."

Melinda's eyes widened with surprise. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. Nice guy, but wrong vehicle."

"Why? What's wrong with porno films?"

"Nothing," shrugged Jennie, "if you want a short career."

"There's got to be some money in it," Melinda assumed. "There's certainly a demand."

"Listen, honey," Jennie warned, "the major stu dios don't hire ex-porn queens."

"So what?"

"So when you get older and your tits start to sag, you're out of work. You don't graduate from fuck flicks to Lady MacBeth, you know."

But Melinda was not deterred. She unsnapped the top button of her blouse to provide a glimpse of cleavage and headed straight for Turner's table.

"Excuse me," she said with a bright, friendly smile, "but aren't you Les Turner?"

He glanced up and was immediately impressed with her charming face. "Yes, I am."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've enjoyed a number of your films."

He seemed surprised, "you have?"

"I'm not an avid adult moviegoer," she modestly conceded, "but yours are done so ... so ... intelligently."

Turner was genuinely flattered. "Why, thank you. May I ask your name?"

"Melinda Cain."

"Melinda Cain," he repeated. "Is that a stage name?"

"Nope. It's all mine."

"Sounds very professional, distinctive," he alleged. "May I introduce my assistant, Gordon Sharpe."

"How do you do?" said Melinda. Gordon acknowledged her with a shy nod.

"Tell me, Melinda," said Turner, "have you appeared in any films? Any shows?"

"A few off-Broadway productions," she claimed. "I haven't had the good fortune of working in films yet, but I'd love to."

Detecting a hint of enthusiasm, Turner facetitiously asked, "You wouldn't be interested in doing a porno flick, I suppose."

"On the contrary," Melinda replied, "I'd be very interested." Then she added humbly, "But do you think I'm attractive enough?"

The question forced Turner to consider Melinda's physical qualifications. He scruntinized her from head to toe before answering. "There's no question that you're attractive. But can you ... ah ... act?"

"You mean, am I inhibited?" she clarified.

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Not in the least."

Turner was skeptical. "Are you sure? For instance, could you go down on an actor you've just met in front of a camera and a crew?"

"If the script calls for it," she maintained.

"We rarely use scripts. We improvise."

"Sounds great," Melinda cheerfully declared. "I know I could handle it."

"I wouldn't want to deceive you, Ms. Cain," Turner stated. "My pictures are strictly hardcore. That means intercourse, cunnilungus, fellatio, group sex, anal sex, lesbianiam ... in detail ... in close-up."

"When do I start?"

Turner laughed. "You're hot to trot, aren't you? Don't you have any reservations at all?"

"None whatsoever."

Turner glanced at Gordon who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Well," sighed the producer, "as it so happens, I can use a girl for a scene in my latest film. I was going to use one of my regular starlets, but she wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Would you mind auditioning for the part?"

"Of course not."

"Would you be available this evening?" asked Turner.

"Sure. When and where?"

Turner handed her his card. "That's the address of my studio. Eight p.m.?"

"I'll be there," Melinda promised, stashing the card in her apron and dashing off to pick up an order.

She arrived punctually at the loft building down on Warren Street. She rang the only buzzer on the metal entrance marked Sweet Treat Production Company. An overhead intercom inquired, "Yes?"

"Melinda Cain to see Mr. Turner," she announced herself.

There was a long pause, then she was buzzed in. Melinda climbed a long, narrow stairway to the reception area of an office upstairs. There, behind a cluttered desk, she found Les Turner rummaging through his paper work.

"Hi," he greeted, setting his documents aside and rising from his chair. "Welcome to the den of iniquity."

His humor helped to put Melinda at ease. "Quite an empire you have here," she whimsically mused, glancing around the small room.

"There's more," he said, motioning for her to follow him through another door.

They stepped into a much larger studio complete with scaffolding, lights, microphones, several movie and video cameras, and a set composed of bedroom furnishings. Turner pointed to a king-size bed with satin sheets and pilowcases. "At least two hundred people have gotten laid in that bed," he proudly declared.

"Not all at the same time, I hope," Melinda quipped.

Turner burst out laughing, put his arm around her shoulder and gave her an affectionate hug. When his laughter subsided, he asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Melinda nodded less than wholeheartedly. "As sure as I'm ever going to be," she answered.

Just then, the door opened and in strode a handsome, robust, Hispanic man dressed in a red T shirt, designer jeans and boots. "Sorry I'm late, Les," he politely apologized.

"Here's your leading man," Turner sarcastically announced. "Melinda, this is Ariel Sanchez, alias Johnny Lancer," he introduced. "Ariel, Melinda Cain."

"Nice to meet you," said Ariel, extending his hand.

Amused by the formality, Melinda smiled and accepted his gentle handshake.

"Shall we get down to business?" Turner suggested.

"What's on the agenda?" asked Ariel, so business-like about the whole affair.

"I'm testing Melinda," Turner explained. "I'm going to have her strip, then I want the two of you to get it on in various positions. I'm videotaping it and then we'll play it back and see how it looks. Okay?"

Ariel nodded.

"Okay?" Turner asked Melinda. She bit her lip and nodded with a hint of anxiety. "Melinda, would you please stand beside the bed," Turner directed.

As Melinda took her position, the producer lifted a video camera off its tripod and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Peering through the lens, he adjusted his picture of the aspiring actress whose image appeared on an off-set monitor.

"Okay," said Turner, "without looking at the camera, pretending you're alone, start to undress."

Under the glare of the hot lights, under the watchful eyes of two virtual strangers, Melinda slowly disrobed. She unbuttoned her ruffled white blouse and kicked off her black, high-heel shoes. Next, she unzipped her tight, black tweed skirt. As she popped a side button, the garment fell to her ankles and she gracefully stepped aside, leaving it on the floor in a crumpled heap. Then she removed the blouse, her breasts brimming from the cups of a white lace bra. Her half-slip soon followed as she stripped down to bra, panties, garter belt and stockings.

"Nice," Turner murmured, assessing her attributes through the camera lens. "Very nice. Now take off the bra and panties, but leave on the garter belt and stockings."

Obediently, Melinda unsnapped the bra and shrugged the straps from her shoulders. In the same fluid motion, she peeled her skimpy bikini panties down her legs and over her ankles.

"Looking good," Turner declared, zooming in for a close-up of her full, firm tits and luscious crotch. "Now lay down on the bed. Ariel ... get undressed and join her."

As Melinda sprawled across the bed, Ariel yanked off his shirt, removed his boots and tugged off his skin-tight jeans. He wasn't wearing any briefs. At the sight of his muscular, nude body and well-endowed genitalia, Melinda's nipples hardened. Ariel moved toward her with a casual, disinterested look on his face. After all, she was just another piece of ass. He must have fucked dozens of women in his line of work. But his dispassionate attitude strangely enticed Melinda, heightening the anticipation of the intimacy they would soon share.

"Give me lots of foreplay," Turner requested, moving closer to get a tight shot of the video lovers.

Ariel's lips covered Melinda's mouth with a lingering kiss. She responded with enthusiasm, opening wide to his probing tongue. As he kissed her, Ariel explored her with his hands, gently but thoroughly caressing her naked flesh, fondling her breasts, bare and stockinged thighs, and buttocks.

"Good," Turner remarked. "Touch her all over."

Ariel did so without having to be told. He stroked her cheek, her neck and shoulders, his fingertips gliding around and around her stiff nipples, then sliding down her belly and into her warm, hairy crotch. He went on sucking her mouth as his fingers traced the rim of her vagina, stimulating her with his slow, patient technique. Then he inserted his middle finger and drove it deep into her cunt, down to the knuckle. Melinda broke the kiss and moaned with unmistakable pleasure.

"Nice move," said Turner, concentrating on the embedded digit. "Now finger her hole."

Ariel licked Melinda's ear and nibbled on her neck while he finger-fucked her. In no time, her pussy was moist and Ariel worked on her clitoris, rubbing her raw, pink button until her snatch yearned for hard meat.

"Suck her tits," Turner ordered.

Complying with his director's wishes, Ariel lowered his lips to Melinda's buxumous boobs, rolling his tongue around her pert nipples, flicking and licking her tantalizing tits. His hands reached up to clutch her breasts and held them firmly as he took turns sucking each one.

In the meantime, Melinda got a grip of Ariel's prick. She repeatedly yanked his stiff dick until she had him groaning, his mouth stuffed with her succulent mammary and his joint being jerked off.

"All right," Turner interrupted, moving around to the foot of the bed, "now I want you to go down on her."

On cue, Ariel removed his lips from Melinda's nipple and ran his nimble tongue down her belly and into her navel. It lingered there for a moment, tickling her. Then the young stud buried his face in Melinda's beaver and shoved his tongue deep into her tasty twat. She stiffened as he licked her clit and dug her fingers into his dark, curly locks.

"That's it," Turner encouraged, getting down on his knees beside the bed to get an extreme close-up of Ariel's darting tongue. "Eat her out! Eat her out!"

Ariel's talent for sucking pussy was indisputable. Melinda could not imagine how many women he had serviced, but could tell he had plenty of experience. He mauled her muff with his greedy mouth, hoisting her thighs onto his shoulders and slashing her clit with his flicking tongue. Tugging on his hair, Melinda began grinding her pussy against his face. He reached up and squeezed her tits, pinching her nipples between his fingertips. Melinda twisted her head toward the camera and gasped.

"Cool it, Ariel," Turner advised. "I don't want her to come yet. It's her turn to give head."

Abruptly, Ariel released Melinda's tits and withdrew from her saturated slit. He rolled over on his back beside her, his swollen dick stretching up to his belly button. She sat up and gazed at his muscular anatomy.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Turner impatiently.

"I was just admiring his body," Melinda explained.

"Never mind his body. I want you to go down on him."

She reached down to pet his prick and soon found herself massaging his entire crotch, kneading the taut muscles of his thighs and groin, fondling his cock and balls. She bent down to kiss the tip of his penis, then glided her soft lips along the shaft, dipping low to lick his balls, then slowly dragging her wet tongue up the length of his organ as if toying with a lollipop. Then holding it upright, Melinda lowered her gaping mouth and proceeded to suck his meat.

"Slowly," Turner coached. "Remember, you're not making love to him, you're making love to an audience."

The whole experience reminded Melinda of a cross between one of her acting classes and one of the tricks she had turned while waiting tables at the diner. There was a thin line between the fantasy world of acting and the reality of hustling a career.

While she worked her mouth up and down on yet another hard cock, Melinda couldn't distinguish the difference.

"Terrific blowjob," raved Turner as if he were the recipient.

"Muy bien," moaned Ariel in agreement.

"All right," Turner interrupted, "now I want you to straddle him."

Melinda took Ariel's dick out of her mouth and looked at the camera. "Straddle him?"

"Yeah, fuck him, but with you on top."

"Oh."

Melinda knelt astride Ariel's hips and held his cock steady as she lowered her cunt. His slick tool slid smoothly into her snug snatch, a fit so right that Melinda closed her eyes and swooned.

"Nice bit of acting," Turner complimented, not knowing any better. "Now ride that stud."

Melinda bobbed up and down as if riding a carousel, her pussy packed with nine inches of solid penis. Murmuring in Spanish, Ariel ran his hands up her stockinged thighs and gripped the straps of her garter belt, tugging on the elastic strips as if they were reins, pulling her back down every time she lifted herself up.

"Whew!" Turner whistled. "I love it! I love it!"

Melinda threw her head back and let her golden blonde hair hang down, her spine arching, her nipples pointing straight up. She put her arms behind her and clutched his knees to steady herself as she pumped her pussy on Ariel's meaty throttle. Writhing with unendurable pleasure, the horny Hispanic palmed the cheeks of her ass and squeezed the firm, plump mounds of flesh.

Turner backed off a bit for a wider shot. "Sit up, Ariel! Rock it!"

Sanchez shot up and pressed his face between Melinda's breasts. She cradled his head in her bare bosom and purred like a kitten. Embracing tightly, they started to rock back and forth.

"Faster! Faster!" Turner shouted. "Push harder and harder until she tips over on her back with you on top."

Ariel and Melinda seesawed to and fro until Melinda toppled backwards to her shoulders and Ariel assumed the superior position. Pinning her to the sheets, he locked his arms around her thighs and balled her with ferocious vigor, weaving in and out, around and around, skewering her sheath with his sinewy shaft.

Turner got so excited, he nearly dropped the camera. "Hot damn! Keep it up and you'll melt the negative!"

Keeping it up was exactly what Ariel did. In a business where he got so much pussy he had to turn it away, Melinda was by far the best piece he'd had in a long memory. His hot breath murmured endearments in her ear, all in his native, romantic tongue, while his riveting rod provided the punctuation.

Melinda rubbed the back of his thighs with her nylon limbs and clawed red marks across his writhing back, provoking his mounting lust. Her nipples prodded his hairy chest and her wicked tongue lashed out to lick his neck and chin, tasting his salty sweat.

"Change positions," Turner instructed. "Sidesaddle."

Without withdrawing from Melinda's cunt, Ariel crossed her leg over his head and turned her over on her side, then went right on drilling her while he fondled Melinda's tits.

"Bend that knee, Melinda," said Turner. "Don't be shy. That's it. I don't want to leave anything to the imagination."

Melinda complied, offering the camera a close-up of her scrumptious pussy accommodating Ariel's slithering cock. The camera panned slowly to Melinda's face which had become a portrait in ecstasy. Her eyes, dazed with rapture, gradually closed tight, creased with intensity. Her nostrils flared, her mouth gaping, her complexion burning bright red. It was as erotic an expression as any assortment of cunt-fucking and cocksucking Turner had photographed for film. He knew he had found himself a first-rate, high-class porno queen.

"Doggie position!" he barked, creatively inspired.

Snapping to Turner's commands, Melinda got up on all fours while Ariel knelt behind her. Sinking his fingers into the soft flesh around her waist, he plied her pussy with deep, deliberate thrusts.

"Ah-h-h-h!" gasped Melinda, pleased beyond her expectations, rotating her hips to enjoy and absorb every lean inch of him.

"That's it! That's it!" panted Turner, running his own tongue over his parched lips. "Grind, baby, grind! Crank that crane!"

Biting her lip, Melinda withstood Ariel's persistent buggering, expanding and contracting her vaginal muscles to make his entry as tight and pleasurable as she desired. She groaned when he reached up and squeezed her tits, milking her like a cow, fucking her like a sow. She spread her legs wider and wider, wishing he were a foot longer, as hungry for his meat as he was for her snatch.

"I want you to come in her ass," Turner insisted.

"Oh, please!" Melinda objected. "I'm so close to coming myself! Don't make him stop!"

"Don't worry, babe, Ariel will get you off," Turner promised. "But I want him to fuck your asshole."

"Anything you say," Melinda breathlessly agreed. "Just do it! Do it! I want it so bad!" Ariel withdrew from Melinda's slit, pried apart the cheeks of her ass and shoved his cock straight into her anus. Melinda gnashed her teeth to stifle a cry of pain, then pushed back to jam the rest of his dick into her throbbing asshole.

Ariel placed his hands on Melinda's firm belly and started poking her butt, his bony hips pounding against her ravaged rump. Moments later, he spread his fingers and moved then into her clammy crotch. Both hands massaged her pussy, whipping her into an instant frenzy. Melinda quivered and whimpered as if tormented, but it was an exquisite torture that satisfied her deepest yearning.

When Ariel pressed down on her clit, Melinda jumped. "O-o-o-o! That's it! Touch me there! Oh! Oh! Rub it hard! Oh, yeah! Yeah! Harder! Harder!"

Sanchez crushed his thumb against the tender spot and slammed into Melinda's hole.

"Uh!" she grunted. "Again!"

He repeated the potent combination. Again Melinda cried out. "More! More!"

Pinching her clit, Ariel fucked her ass with relentless fury. It was more than enough to trigger an innumerable series of orgasms for Melinda. Finally letting go, Ariel forced his cock in all the way and came with a shudder. He clung to Melinda as he creamed her ass with his spurting load. Then he fell back on the bed, utterly exhausted., Turner zoomed in for a shot of Ariel's cum seeping from Melinda's red, raw hole before her knees gave out and she collapsed on her face.

"Dynamite!" hailed Turner, turning off the camera. He fetched a pair of dry towels and handed them to Ariel and Melinda, then hurried over to the video monitor. "I want to play this back."

After wiping herself, Melinda gather her clothing and started to dress, self-conscious of her nudity. Ariel, on the other hand, was sprawled out on the bed, contentedly recuperating from the strenuous workout.

Turner replayed what he had recorded and was exceedingly pleased with the results. "Check it out," he said excitedly over his shoulder to Melinda. "You look fabulous!"

Melinda watched quietly as her video twin stripped down to her garter belt, entranced by the spectacle of herself on a small screen submitting to various carnal acts with a strange man. It was when she viewed herself giving head to Ariel that Melinda's fascination began to turn to embarrassment, then to shame. She could not bear to see herself being eaten out and fucked, and while Turner reveled in the erotic quality of the tape, Melinda started to cry.

"Hey, hey, what's this?" asked Turner, rushing to her side. "What's the matter?"

"I-I-can't-watch it," she sobbed uncontrollably.

Bewildered but concerned, Turner put his arm around Melinda's shoulder and comforted her. "For Pete's sake, don't cry. It's all right."

"Please, turn it off!" she bawled hysterically.

"Okay, okay! I'll turn it off!"

While Ariel looked on with utter indifference, Turner shut off the monitor, but it wasn't enough to pacify Melinda who went right on weeping. "I hate it when they cry," Turner mumbled, sitting down on the bed next to her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I feel like such a tramp," said Melinda.

"Look, it's your first time ... it's only natural for you to feel a little ... strange about this kind of work. I warned you it wouldn't be easy.

"It's not just this," she tearfully told him. "It's everything. The way I live, the way I behaved, all the compromises I've had to make. I came to New York with a dream, an ambition. I'm a serious actress. I have a talent, a gift. Why am I doing what I'm doing? How did things get so out of hand?"

"I think you're overreacting," said Turner, trying to comfort and reassure her. "You were great. You have a natural flare for this kind of product."

"I don't want to be a product. Don't you understand? I'm not saying it's wrong or indecent. But it's not really me. I thought it was. I thought it could be. I thought I could settle for this. But I can't. I didn't realize it until I saw myself on tape. I've been letting men use me and if I'm ever going to be a success, I can't let myself be used anymore."

"Okay, okay," Turner reluctantly conceded. "So it's not your cup of tea. I think you're making a mistake, but if that's what you want...."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Turner. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"No harm done," Turner kindly assured her. "You learned something about yourself tonight. That's what's important. I could sure use someone like you, but I'd rather see you happy."

"What are you going to do with the tape?" asked Melinda worriedly.

"Erase it, of course."

"You're really a very sweet man."

"Of course, I am! I've been telling people that for years. Now why don't you run along. Go home and take it easy. If you change your mind, call me. I won't forget you."

"Thanks," said Melinda, kissing him on the cheek. "And thank you, Ariel."

Still lounging in the nude, Sanchez raised his head to bid farewell. "Hey, listen ... why don't I give you my number? Anytime you want to get down again...."

Melinda smiled. "Thanks just the same. Bye."

"So long, sweetheart," said Turner.

After Melinda had left, Ariel slipped back into his jeans and lit a cigarette. Slapping Turner on the back, he laughed, "That was one fucked-up chick. Nice piece of tail, though."

Turner ignored him and rewound the video tape.

"You ain't gonna erase the tape, are you?" asked Sanchez.

"Right now," Turner replied.

"Are you crazy, man? You could sell that to every loop joint in Times Square. She'd never know."

Turner cast a cold, disapproving stare at his prolific stud. "I don't operate like that. Believe it or not, I have my integrity."

Sanchez clapped his hands and howled with laughter.

"Go on and laugh, you big prick," Turner muttered with a grin. His smile faded as he reflected on the evening's events. "She's a cute kid. She'll be a pleasure to watch on the screen someday." Then abruptly dispeling his lapse into sentimentality, Turner cleared his throat and proceeded to erase the tape. "Did I ever tell you about the time I met Marilyn Monroe?" he asked.