I smiled, happy with my work..happy with my life. And who in their right mind wouldn't be? I mean, hey...the magazine wasn't the New Yorker or anything spectacular like that. And with the type of stuff we'd been publishing, it surprised me that we'd yet to be compared to Hustler, but all in all, it wasn't bad. I was now well on my way to making a living by photographing and fucking celebrities. How lucky can a guy get?
The "interview", for wont of better term, with Alexandra Paul had started the ball rolling. I photoed her naked body. She got turned on immensely by it. And we had sex for hours. Then, if you can believe it, she told me I could write about it! Yes, my friends, life was swell.
Then, oh yes..it gets better, I was given an assignment to "interview" and photo Brook Burke. Tan, tall, outright stunning...and the photo shoot was outdoors, which just made it better. And after an hour of photos, I come to find out she got so turned on by reading about my exploits with Alexandra, the whole reason she called the office about the interview was so she could beat the former Baywatch babe in a one-upsmanship contest...by fucking the holy Hell outta me!
Needless to say, the articles got plenty of attention. The fans ate them up. The celebrities either talked trash, or wanted to be a part of it all. And the office...well, they were the most envious group of S.O.B.'s I'd ever met. The guys all wanted my job, and the ladies were beginning to pay particular attention to my lower regions...especially one of the female columnists, who'd made a point of taking me home with her at least once a week for a love making session that seemed like it took days to complete. Like I said, life was great.
Today though, today was something else. I'd just got to the office, after cashing my latest royalty check, (I'd been getting a lot of those since these interviews became popular and the magazine began re-printing its issues. The Brook Burke copy was now in it's fourth printing.), and found a note on my desk that I was to see Frank, my editor, ASAP. With that, I strolled to Frank's office, stopping by a certain columnist's desk for a quick smooch and grab, to see what was up.
"Jake, my boy!" he shouted as I entered the office. He'd taken to calling me that ever since he'd gotten a raise due to our outstanding sales, and my interviews that caused them.
"What's up, Frank?"
"Very much...very much indeed." He replied, hefting a stack of paperwork from his desk. "These, my boy, are the legitimate requests we've had for an interview by our star columnist."
I almost lost control of my bodily functions as I looked at some of the names. Christina Augilara. Carmen Elektra. Denise Richards. Hudson Leik. Mitzi Kapture. The list seemed to go on forever. From the mildly attractive to the women most guys would give everything to spend five minutes with. I was amazed.
"Here's the one you're going to do next...eh, no pun intended." Frank chuckled, handing me the plane ticket and a picture.
"Charisma Carpenter? She's a little unknown for this, don't you think? I mean...especially considering some of the other names." I replied, tapping the papers I'd just finished sifting through.
"True, true." Frank replied. "But...her fans have been rather...well, we've gotten a lot of requests."
"I see." I said. "Okay, when do I leave?"
"You're scheduled to be at her place in about three hours."
"Great."
