For a long time there has been an argument between those so-called experts that profess to know these things, that who we are is either as a result of breeding, or, just as convincingly, our environment. In support of those on the genetics side of the argument, it would seem that I have a genetic pre-disposition to becoming a whore. On the other hand, it could be that, as the daughter of a whore, there would have been environmental factors that influenced my life.
As opposed to these so-called experts, I am not a whore, I do not sell my body for money for the simple reason that I have no need, financially or emotionally, to do so. There is a difference between my life and that of a whore, I'm in a relationship with a man who I love, that I get paid to maintain that relationship is a bonus. If there is one thing that I have learnt from my mother it is that, even in Tinseltown, a whore has a limited life expectancy. Sooner or later she would no longer be able to attract the attention of those who could pay well for her services, and end her life in a cheap rooming house, either dribbling drunk or off her face on drugs, and needing to turn tricks to buy her fix.
My mother could have been a successful actress if she had so desired. That she wasn't, was a testament to her not wanting to take part in the casting ritual that would usually end up on the casting couch. Oh, she had a few bit parts early on, but it wasn't until she attended a film premiere on the arm of the film's male lead that she realised that she had a better role to play, that of , not a whore, but the professional girlfriend, or, when appropriate, wife. The star in question was contracted to one of the major studios at the time, and the publicity machine took great pains in finding suitably attractive ladies to accompany him to these affairs. The need for this was hidden from his adoring fans, not only was the manly image just that, an image, but he was a raging homosexual, the knowledge of which would, most certainly at that time, seen the end of his career. His Box office status created the imperative that this secret be kept from the public, and this was where my mother came in, she became his 'lover' in the eyes of the fans, a role for which she was paid extremely well by the studio. If they had been lovers she could possibly be classified as a whore hired by the studio, but they were never lovers. They did however marry, and it was to all intents and purposes a happy union. She insisted early on that any gay liaisons were kept away from their palatial mansion, and that she would reciprocate.
I came into this world some time after this marriage of convenience ended amicably, with a suitably high settlement. This occurred around the same time that his ego got the better of him, and he began to make impossible demands of the Producers and the studio. The rumour mill ran hot with stories of temper tantrums on set, and his co-stars refusing to work with him. It was a financial decision to end the marriage, and my mother found herself out of work and with no salary. A visit to the studio heads resulted in a new star appearing on the scene, a star who was not gay, a star who was my father. They played happy families for some three years before he decided to stray with a co-star. This divorce was anything but amicable and the studio hired a good Lawyer for my mother who got her an even bigger settlement, one that allowed her to live a comfortable life as a single mother, at least until a new partner could be found. From her I learned that to be comfortable a girl doesn't have to endure endless cattle calls for bit parts in low budget films with stints of waitressing to make ends meet. From her I learnt that a comfortable living could be made by being a wife or girlfriend of a star.
From her I also learnt to deal with egos, something that I had to put to use very early in my career. He was an up and coming star with Oscar potential written all over him, at least that was the image that he projected, even to his lovemaking, he had to be 'in the zone' before he could perform, something that I had to change. For someone with what I knew of the subject, spontaneity was the key, and by the time he had reached the 'zone' I had lost interest and it became a chore to convince him that he was the world's greatest lover. "Look Rob, (Rob Stone, not his real name by the way) by the time that you get into your zone I have completely lost the urge. What do you say that I help you achieve your 'zone' while at the same time maintaining mine?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just sit back and enjoy it." I kissed him, while, at the same time I opened his shirt, running my hand over his wax denuded chest (the studios didn't like hairy male leads). I pinched his nipples, causing him to squirm, before raising my hands to his face. Using the tip of one finger, I traced irregular patterns around his face, around his lips, pushing them apart and inserting a finger into his mouth. He sucked on it briefly, only because I pulled it out just as he got interested in it, before continuing around his neck and gently into his ears. By this time he was getting into his zone, his hand beginning to wander over my body. "No." I told him. "Not yet."
Makeup were not going to be happy with me as I gave him a large love-bite. He, on the other hand, enjoyed every minute of it, his body began to writhe around on the bed and once more he tried to cup my breast. "No." I moved his hand away. "Not yet."
"When?"
"When I let you."
My hand slid down his belly with its thin layer of fat over his six pack, until I reached his trousers. I loosened his belt and slid my hand under the waistband, meeting his cock half-way. It wasn't a big cock by any means, but big enough if he knew how to use it, which he didn't yet, that would come (no pun intended). My finger circled the tip of his cock, causing him to squirm even more, resulting in another grab for a breast. "No." I told him as I removed his hand. "Not yet."
"Fuck." He said as he came on his belly.
"Who's the eager beaver then?" I chuckled, as I resumed his treatment, kissing him and caressing him, paying special attention to his now limp cock, my barometer of his desires. It took some time before he began to respond (his cock that is) and rise to meet my finger. Tentatively his hand reached for a breast. This time I allowed it to cup me, this was accompanied by an audible sigh. I lifted my top to allow greater access and his hand slid under my bra and pushed it up over my breasts. He now had full access, his hands cupping my breasts while his fingers worked on my nipples. "Gently now, you don't want to put me off." He reduced his enthusiasm to a much more pleasant level.
He kissed me and his tongue found mine, but for a while it reacted as if he'd learned tongue technique from a textbook, because there was no feeling involved. I withdrew my tongue and stopped kissing him. "What's wrong now?"
"Have you ever made love to a woman before?"
"Yes, plenty of times."
"I mean made love as opposed to fucking?"
"Is there a difference?"
"The fact that you asked that question answers my question, allow me to demonstrate." I kissed him and gently inserted my tongue into his mouth, this was not a fight for supremacy between two tongues, this was a meeting, and he soon got the message.
After several minutes of this, I felt his hand slide under the waistband of my pants and my underwear, and a finger slide into my now wet pussy. He hand was applying the message he'd learnt and his insertion was gentle, and I loved it. I raised my hips and he pushed my pants down, I figured that he was now in his 'zone' and had decided to let him take control. His cock was up to the task despite his lack of size, it was as if he sensed what would turn me on and did it. I already knew what got him off and we reached the conclusion at the same time, that this could be a very satisfactory relationship.
"You are good, do you know that?" He whispered to me as we caught our breath after a prolonged session of love making. That it was long was as much a testament to his staying power as it was to the pleasure that I got from him. That it was good, if not great, was a testament to me leading him without appearing to take total control of the process, his ego would not have allowed that, and tonight was all about him, about him realising that he wanted me.
That he wanted me became obvious the next day when I got a call from the studio where he was making his latest film. "Madeline Donovan?"
"Yes."
"Mr Lawrence of Amity Studio (the studio head) would like to speak with you."
"What is it about?" I had a good idea, they were not going to allow any relationship that would impact negatively on his career and the studio.
"Mr Lawrence will make it all clear when you get here, you will be expected in an hour from now." No negotiation as to time, I was under orders to be there.
"I'm sorry but I can't make it at that time, I have another appointment to keep, a prior appointment."
"Cancel it."
"I can't, it is important for my career."
"We were not aware that you had a career."
"Not yet, but I'm working on it, and unless I get a better offer than the one that's on the table, I'm afraid I will have to take a raincheck."
"I'm sure that Mr Lawrence will want to make you a better offer."
"You're sure. Look whoever you are, do you speak for Mr Lawrence when you say that? If he can guarantee me a better deal then I might consider obeying his command and see him in an hour, but I will not break this appointment on the vague chance that he just might have a better offer. If you can give me his guarantee, then I will see him in an hour, if not I will call him and arrange an appointment at my convenience." My mother had taught me well, it was all about confidence, and the ability to convince others that you are confident.
I was placed on hold for a couple of minutes. "Mr Lawrence will see you in an hour."
An hour later I was seated in a comfortable chair sipping an excellent coffee, I had declined the offer of a stronger drink, but that didn't stop Mr Lawrence from having one. "Now Madeline, the most important question here is, what are your intentions with respect to Rob?"
"My intentions are strictly between myself and Rob, I don't see that it is any business of yours."
"It is very much my business, my studio has a great deal of money invested in our star, and anything that impinges in a negative manner on the plans that we have for him, will cause me to look upon the cause of that with a great deal of anger. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, very. Now I have to ask you, was there a difference in Rob this morning from previous mornings?"
