Chapter 12
Needless to say, Lars Lissaker was beside himself when he heard his prot'g' from the Midwest had decided to return to Ohio.
"Are you crazy? Are you out of your fucking mind?" Lars ranted. "Sally Ann, we may be finished with shooting and dubbing, but obviously you don't know enough about filmmaking to understand that's only half the ball game."
Sally Ann was in Lars's spacious-but-Spartan Tribeca loft. She'd called him the night before, intending to tell him a sudden tragedy had occurred-her mother was in the hospital recovering from a car accident-but Sally Ann was the world's worst liar. Instead, she decided to make an early morning "appointment" with her Svengali, be honest with him (after all, Lars did give her her first big break) and talk to the director privately.
"Can't you at least give me some idea of what all this is about?" Lars asked her. "You know I'm very busy with the film now, Sally Ann. Isn't there another time-"
"No," she interrupted. "Lars, I've got to talk to you right away."
"Okay, okay. Be here at eight A.M. Whatever you have to tell me, make it brief."
She hung up the phone, feeling a knot tighten in her tummy. Sally Ann hoped it wasn't the first sign of an ulcer. God knows, I've never been so anxious about anything like I am about this, Sally Ann thought. She felt like a Benedict Arnold, cutting out early rather than face the music. Would he think that she was not grateful? Would he yell and scream at her, as he sometimes did with other actors on the set? She made herself a cup of tea with honey. The warm chamomile helped calm her nerves. She wished either Deke or Josette were there to rehearse with her what to say to Lars, but they'd gone out to see a movie.
One thing Sally Ann knew for certain: There would be no turning back once Lars learned she was leaving. In fact, maybe he'd be glad-one less temperamental actress for him to deal with. Besides, it wasn't as if he was losing the "star," Lilac. Sally Ann was a mere chorus dancer. She fell asleep that night with fitful nightmares of Lars-apoplectic with anger. As she tossed and turned on the futon, she imagined the worst: Lars cutting her out of every scene from the film. Wouldn't that be poetic justice for Lilac, who'd failed in her attempts to shame Sally Ann? She already could see Lilac relishing Sally Ann's humiliation.
The Midwestern temptress knew there would be repercussions, she just didn't know what they'd be. And it was the not knowing that intruded on her sleep. When the alarm clock rang the next morning, Sally Ann was so tired from her insomnia, she wondered if maybe she should just skip town and catch a train back to Dayton.
Her worst fears were confirmed now. Lars was chain smoking as he paced back and forth in his loft.
"I just can't believe you're flushing a possible film career down the toilet," he raged. "Sally Ann, I had high hopes for you. You saw the rushes. Did they leave no impact on you at all? Were you that disappointed with your work?"
"Of course not, Lars. I was beside myself with happiness, seeing my face forty-feet high on the screen. Considering that I came into the film with absolutely no experience, I know I'm in debt to you for educating me, molding me, spending time to make sure I did everything right."
"I made you dance captain, Sally Ann," Lars reminded her. "I chose you because you seemed, more than the other dancers, so willing to commit yourself completely to Naughty In New York. Obviously, I have underestimated you."
Sally Ann quaked inside, trying not to lose control, not wanting to let the incident with Lilac and Emmett slip out. But when it became apparent Lars would not back down, Sally Ann felt she had no choice but to defend her reasons for going back to Ohio. Briefly, she recounted Lilac's foray with the video camera. When she finished telling the sad and evil story, Lars snuffed out his last cigarette and sat down with a heavy sigh on his sofa.
"My God, Sally Ann. Why didn't you tell me until now?"
"I didn't want to burden you, Lars, especially watching you work full tilt. I didn't want to cause friction on the set."
Lars picked up his cellular phone and began dialing.
"Who are you calling?"
"Who do you think?"
"Don't Lars, please. It will only make things worse. Lilac Veracruz will stop at nothing to get what she wants, the way she wants it, at anyone's expense. If it wasn't for her miscalculation in trusting Emmett, I might be dead. She said it was all in jest-just to have a little fun, but it wasn't fun. I was scared to death."
Lars put down the phone and started pacing again.
"Please, Lars, stop with the smoking, the pacing. You're making me even more nervous than I already am. Just let it ride, pretend it never happened, and get on with finishing your movie. That's what you should be worrying about, not me."
"When are you leaving?"
"I bought my train ticket for tomorrow afternoon. I haven't even told my family I'm going home. They'll be so surprised."
Lars shook his blond mane, sadly trying to comprehend the story he'd just heard. Then, he muttered something in German, and gave Sally Ann a searching look with his red-rimmed blue eyes. It was apparent the man was working himself to death.
"Do I have to spell it out for you."
"Spell what out?" Sally Ann queried.
"Then, I guess, you don't feel the same way that I feel about you."
"Lars, I'm not understanding what you're trying to tell me."
"From the moment I first saw you at Chez Pierre, Sally Ann, I was infatuated."
Sally Ann flashed back on the huge tip he'd given her before leaving the restaurant.
"And when Jean-Claude told me you had aspirations to be in pictures, well, I thought that was one way I could get closer to you."
"So, you just assumed I was a lousy actress, but you wanted to fuck me anyway," Sally retorted testily.
Lars continued. "I arranged your audition to see if you had talent as well as beauty. You probably won't believe this, but even if we'd not had sex, the actual dance performance you did was like a slap in my face."
"That bad, huh?"
"Not at all; just the opposite, Sally Ann. You were magnificent with that music I gave you to dance to. I'd already determined I'd use you in some capacity in Naughty In New York, because I had this terrible schoolboy crush on you. Then, I find out you're riveting to watch as a dancer, as a performer. There was another young woman I'd invited to audition for me here later the same day, but I canceled out after seeing you."
"Really?" Sally Ann was overwhelmed by the compliment, but she still didn't trust that Lars was telling her the truth. Perhaps he was rattling on just to keep her in New York. Sally Ann had learned the hard way about the ulterior motives so many New Yorkers-especially in the entertainment industry-had, luring unsuspecting wannabes like Sally Ann into a vortex of false hopes and promises. Again, she flashed back to Lilac. How could she ever make a career for herself working with bitches like her?
Lars moved to the sofa Sally Ann was curled up on, and began massaging her neck.
"You feel comfortable here, don't you, my love?"
"I've always had a weakness for oversized leather arm chairs and sofas," she confessed.
"Sally Ann, I wasn't asking your opinion on interior design. You feel comfortable with me, no?"
"No, I mean, yes," she stammered. Lars's massage was really relaxing her now. The tight muscles in her neck uncoiled. He rubbed her temples gently with his fingers. Sally Ann closed her eyes. "Yes, I feel comfortable with you, Lars."
In an instant, Lars hurdled the sofa and was next to her on the leather sofa.
"Wait a minute, Lars. What's happening here?"
In lieu of a reply, the German director put his hands on her breasts, feeling her nipples hardening through her blouse as he massaged her firm, fleshy mounds. No silicone here, he thought. Lars had had his share of tits; he knew the real from the surgically "enhanced."
Sally Ann was in a quandary. Here she was, trying her best to convey to Lars why she wanted to leave Manhattan, and, instead, she was relenting, giving herself over to the pleasure in his massive hands. She dug down deep inside and pulled away from him.
"Lars, there's something else you should know."
"Whatever it is, I don't want to know," he replied firmly.
"I'm in love with someone else. You don't know him; he's not in showbiz, and he loves me dearly-at least, he once did."
"Some Ohio hayseed?"
"Don't call Freddy that," she said curtly. "Un-like the men in New York, he doesn't expect me to always be 'on call' for him. We'd been together ever since high school and were planning on getting married before I decided to try my hand at New York City."
"Why do you feel so compelled to tell me this, Sally Ann? Is he that much of a better lover than I am?"
"Actually, he's quite a good lover, Lars. He may not know all the tricks you do to make a woman cum, but he's no slouch in the bedroom."
She sat back down on the sofa, Lars immediately resuming the breast massage.
I'll just get this over with as soon as possible," Sally Ann told herself. I'll fuck Lars one last time, and get the hell out of this town!
Lars, surprised at Sally Ann's abrupt acquiescence, moved in for the kill. He placed one of Sally's hands on the long tube of cock that snaked down his leg like a python. Sally Ann unzipped his fly, unbuckled his belt, and dove into the musky-smelling, tantalizing groin.
"Wait, let's get comfortable," Lars said. He stood up and shucked off his clothes as Sally Ann did the same. He took her by the hand and led her behind a large Oriental rice screen, where his king-sized bed was discreetly hidden. He lay her down on the bed and was on top of her in a flash, his cock digging deeply into her pussy mound. There was no foreplay, and Sally Ann's cunt was not moist enough yet to handle the penetration.
"Don't you at least want to cuddle first?" she asked him. "Women love foreplay. You, of all people, should know that."
"I only know that I want you now! I don't care about foreplay; I don't care that you're dry; believe me, I'll get you heated up as long as you give in to me.
For some reason, Sally Ann stopped thinking about Lars and, instead, fantasized about Freddy. Every time Lars pounded her pussy with his roto-rooter, Sally Ann pretended it was her long-time companion's delectable dick. How she loved Freddy's prick. It may not be as impressively large as this lusty German's, but it tasted briny and sweet at the same time. She savored it whenever Freddy wanted to have her perform oral sex on him. Freddy knew that-however problematic their lives might be outside the bedroom-in the sack, Sally Ann became insatiable for sex with him. She could suck his cock and swallow his seed for hours. It didn't even matter to her when he'd climaxed down her throat. Sally Ann loved to suckle his spent penis. Eventually, all the oral ministrations paid off. Freddy's cock would pop up like a flagpole, and they'd start their sex-fest all over again.
"Look at me, Sally Ann," Lars commanded, jolting her back to reality. "What are you thinking about? This Freddy guy? Don't you want me?"
"Yes, of course I want you, Lars," she lied, wanting to end this session as soon as possible so she could begin packing her luggage.
"I don't believe you."
"Well, then, what would it take to convince you?"
Lars quickly flipped Sally Ann on her stomach. "Fucking you up the ass. Fucking your fanny hole."
Having just experienced anal sex with Josette and Deke the night before, Sally Ann could no longer claim to be an anal virgin. But getting plugged up her butt by Lars's long schlong was beyond comprehension.
"I'm sorry, Lars, but I don't think so."
"So, you're rejecting me again?" If his ploy was to make Sally Ann feel even guiltier about leaving the city, Lars had succeeded. She buried her head in one of the huge silk-covered pillows, stuck her ass up in the air as Josette had done only last night, and spread her cheeks.
"That's more like it, my love." Lars reached into a nearby night table, extracting a condom and something called "Love Lube" that was cloyingly sweet-smelling, like overly ripe cherries. Sally Ann had never seen a man so adept at putting an extra-large condom on his prick. Although she could see that the rubber was already lubricated, Lars applied a generous amount of the pale pink "Love Lube" to his dick, then to her ass-hole. This act was quickly followed by an index finger pushing open the small, succulent hole below her blonde pussy. "like it, bitch?"
"Love it," she replied, wanting desperately to get this over and done. The moniker "bitch," which often turned her on during sex talk, now sounded mean-spirited, venomous.
"Well, fasten your seat belt, bitch. We're going on a bumpy, freaky ride."
The lube-oozing prick worked its head into her rectum. Surprisingly, Lars was not slam-dunking his dick into her as he'd done with her pussy. Whatever motives he had for fucking her after she told him she was leaving, Lars was respectful enough to minimize the initial pain she normally felt when a finger, dildo or dick was in her ass.
"That feels wonderful," Lars moaned. He reached under her and played with her nipples a while before moving lower and diddling her clit. It was an almost perfect replay of her rendezvous with Deke and Josette the night before.
"Yeah, baby, fuck that hole. Plug me up good with your big pink cock," she urged, realizing the dirty talk would help bring him to a climax faster.
Lars gently slapped her ass. "Shut up, bitch. I'll tell you when I want you to talk to me."
Again, the tone in his voice was venomous. Feeling uncomfortable, Sally Ann clenched her ass-hole. But it was too late: Lars's cock was already firmly lodged up her shitter.
"Loosen up, damn it!" he commanded, slapping her ass harder this time.
"Ouch! Lars, take it easy, okay, honey?" Sally Ann had always been open-minded about sex. She had, in only the few months of her stay in New York, feasted on an extensive menu of sexual delectables. But pain was not one of them. And she wanted Lars to know she could make it very difficult for him to cum by clenching her cheeks. Because her ass-hole had rarely been used for fucking when she lived in Ohio, Sally Ann was one tight babe.
"Just let me inside," Lars demanded.
Sally Ann sighed heavily. What's taking him so long? Why isn't he cumming? she wondered, finally giving in, forcing herself to relax, and letting him have his way.
Although Sally Ann was no Lilac Veracruz when it came to anal sex, Lars Lissaker knew he could proceed with this busty blonde and urge her on. He placed another finger in her ass, gently rubbing her clit, feeling her backside muscles relax into him. Then, he began to seriously ass fuck her.
Surprisingly, Sally Ann experienced no pain anymore. The magic combination of having her two holes filled at once was working. Lars screamed his invectives, but Sally Ann was too lost in her Freddy fantasy to react to them.
Then, he came. She sighed with relief that it was over. Sally Ann felt the condom balloon inside her pussy, and knew Lars had reached his peak. He abruptly pulled out of her ass and slapped it again, this time, playfully.
"I've got to wash up," Mr. No-nonsense told her. Despite his earlier confession that Lars had had a crush on Sally Ann from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, at this moment she was just another chorus dancer to him.
While Lars was in the John, showering off Sally Ann's fluids and the icky-sticky "Love Lube," Sally Ann quickly dressed and left the loft. She scribbled a brief note: "Thanks for the memories. Best of luck with Naughty In New York," left it on the perspiration-stained, flame-red satin sheets, and quietly closed the door behind her. Intuitively, she knew she'd never see Lars Lissaker again. Sadly, she realized he and Lilac, despite their nonstop feuding, were cut from the same cloth.
Poor Jean-Claude. Eventually, they'll use him, too. He really seems to love Lilac, she thought. Jean-Claude deserves better, but he'll have to discover that on his own.
Sally Ann deserved better treatment, too. Her heart was racing, racing, racing as the taxi drove her back to the quaintly converted carriage house she'd called home during the last months. She was experiencing an urgency to leave "the city of Sodom" that was almost palpable.
Lord, just get me back to Ohio," she pleaded inwardly. Take me back to my family. Take me back to Freddy. Take me anywhere but here. I promise I'll never roam again.