Chapter Five
Valentine's Day Wedding
Three years later we got married on a day and a date that we would always remember. It almost didn't happen.
"You have to take the job," Jill insisted 7 months earlier as she rode my cock on the big comfortable bed in our Gramercy area apartment we decided on as a compromise for her Upper Eastside job and my Bowery one. She actually paid more of the rent, insisting it only fair since she made more than twice the money I did. Even that was a compromise because negotiations started with her paying it all which we both knew would have been burdensome, not to mention unfair, even with her six figure editor pay.
She had taken me to bed after I showed her the letter from the very successful director/producer of both soft core and extreme hard core films, offering a role in his productions as an assistant director. It meant relocating to LA. She had taken me to bed to relieve the guilt and worry the letter brought me, with the joy of accepting creating a stepping stone to directing my own commercially viable projects contrasting with a need to move away. She knew how to distract me.
"But I can't leave you," I told her, stopping the erotic bouncing of her tits with both hands and squeezing them. "And Manhattan is the center of publishing."
"You have to take it. It's a chance of a lifetime," she huffed, riding me harder.
"There's got to be a way to make this work," I said, gaining confidence as the friction around my cock gained excitation, whispering at completion, though I knew it would wait. It would wait for me to roll her over and become the fucker and her the fuckee. Her riding me cowgirl had the advantage of delaying my orgasm even as it thrilled both of us as much as any position, especially visually for me watching her titties bounce. "There's got to be a way."
Confidence brought out the pounder in me. I thrust up against her downward thrusts with greater power until I pulled her hard against me, my glans mashed just hard enough against her cervix to set her off as it often did with a surprisingly quick if low level orgasm, and rolled us over still firmly connected and recommenced the fucking as hard or harder than her riding had been. I added harder squeezes of her nipples, and after a passionate kiss, some chewing on them as well. No more conversational words occurred, only words of passion from Jill's bee stung lips, mostly "fuck."
"Oh God Joe," she growled as a mighty orgasm overcame her, her body pressing upwards as I continued pounding into it. She writhed against me until all movement ceased and I felt the wild rippling surround my cock and the hot stream of fluid cover my balls.
I felt these things because I too had stopped my thrusting, pressing deeper than ever inside her and against her roiling cervix which I hosed down and through with ecstatic ejaculations, sending seed eager to mate with an egg that proved non-existent.
The next day I took the chance of negotiating with the porn director via phone call. He must have really been impressed by my amateur work, artistic if cheaply made yet erotically stimulating and, if I take the word of classmates and teacher and Dr Bob and of course my lovely Jill, beautiful, because he listened to my pleas.
"I need her with me," I told him. "Not only is she the love of my life, but she's my muse."
"It's a cold world no matter the heat of the imagery," he countered. "Love can become a liability or even more likely completely vanquished."
"I can imagine," I told him, thinking of the often cruel if well crafted double and triple penetrations he subjected his female porn stars to. Love never entered into his schemes. Even the softcore had more to do with lust and avarice than anything approaching love. "But it's been well tested," I continued. "That's me fucking that gorgeous Jewish lady who happened to be Jill's roommate at the time and my ex, and not only did Jill watch it, she filmed it."
"She filmed it?" he responded, obviously impressed despite his typical low key speech patterns.
I caught it. "She can be an amazing cameraman or person for the second unit." After a pause I added, "And she's an editor."
"I've got a great editor," he said.
"Not film editing. She edits books, both novels and nonfiction. She's brilliant at it, one of the top editors at her publisher despite her young age. She edited the book of poetry I sent to you and she also edits my film scripts."
He chuckled. "Ah, at last the grist."
"Don't take this wrong, but your scripts could use her skills."
"Even I cringe after the fact," he admitted. "Actually I thought I'd use you for writing as well. It was to be a reward for good work which I figured I'd see from you. Just like anything in our business, instant gratification and all that, I guess rewards are never delayed."
I chuckled with him. "We work as a team," I said.
"And without her you don't work at all?" he asked.
I had nothing to say to that. It brought my back against the wall. Like Jill had said, it was a chance of a lifetime.
Thankfully he agreed. "Anyone else?" he offered jokingly.
"Need a sound man?"
"You might," he chuckled.
It turned out Dave had the same dilemma as me. How he tempered the party girl Monica enough for them to sustain a relationship surprised me. Except I knew it was more like him going with the flow, partying as hard as her, including sharing her with men, mostly Bob, as she shared him with women, mostly Bob's nurses. She got the most out of it though, discovering her bisexual tendencies at that shoot at her parents' estate. Neither Dave nor Bob had the least interest in fucking each other.
So in the end, his desire to remain with his love kept him in Manhattan. That both of them had moved into better positions in their professions, she finally getting an editing position after a couple frustrating years manning the front desk as receptionist, and he about to take over the jeweler/watch repair business from the ancient master for which he had been apprenticed, definitely added to his decision to stay.
Jill and I had to delay our move west for awhile. In a sense the porn director tested both of us during that time. He sent Jill screenplays to edit and had me work Manhattan as location background. And Long Island as well, since he liked Monica's parents' estate he'd seen in my little film.
It would have been nice to avoid another New York winter, but in the end it worked out great. Dave became my best man and Monica Jill's maid of honor. Her family could attend easily. Most, including her aunts and uncles and cousins, despite their multitude of ethnicities, resided in either New York or in a relatively close eastern city, and there were many of them. She herself had two brothers and a sister from her parent's original marriage, and half siblings and siblings in law from their second marriages.
My family actually had several from my father's side, he having been raised in Brooklyn, residing close by. In fact his oldest brother, in the entertainment business as the head contract lawyer of the second largest talent agency in America, had been of great assistance in not only letting me bounce ideas off him but in introducing me to powerful men in the film business, most productively the director who moonlighted as the featured instructor in film at NYU, essentially letting me pass hurdles to get enrolled there. This assistance happened despite Uncle Howard's absolute objection to my career choice. What a mensche.
"I do," I said most happily on Valentine's Day despite my unmanly tears looking into those incredible dark Asian eyes just as moist as mine. Her vintage bridal gown looked incredible on her, fitted to a t and flaunting her perfect abundance. But at that moment all I saw were her eyes, accepting, loving, as ecstatic as mine. Not an ounce of reluctance showed through, nor shyness.
That shyness, nearly crippling, I hardly ever saw by then, though people I met with her and who she had met without me earlier had remarked at her transformation into confident woman when in my presence. I guess she still needed me. I had no problem with that because I needed her too.
We finished our vows in the huge Manhattan pier we rented and celebrated afterwards when it became the reception hall. Hundreds of guests barely filled the place, but it was an impressive crowd for us two usual recluses.
"You weren't nervous at all," I said into her ear as we sat awaiting the usual events, including being coruscated and flambéed by my best and all too witty friend. We sat at the head of a large round table like king and queen surrounded by a court of relatives and friends.
"I get to marry you, silly boy. It's something I've been looking forward to for some time. Besides, I've been stared at before by a lot more people."
"You mean the films?"
