A Place to Call Home

Dozens, if not hundreds, of results popped up on the monitor, and I had no idea where to begin. Most were links to her videos, and there were a ton of them! Jill placed her hand over her mouth as I scrolled down page after page. After page. After yet another page.

"Oh my god!" she gasped softly, dropping her head in shame. "That's really me?"

"Looks like you're famous." I said dryly. "Wait, here's one that's different! It's got your profile or something."

It was a site that was like an IMDb knockoff for porn stars, and I clicked on it. Sure enough, up came Jill's gorgeous face, along with a list of all of her movies. We both stared in stunned silence as I scrolled through them.

"There must be a hundred titles there!" Jill gasped in disbelief. "Thank God I can't remember making any of them. I still can't believe that's me!"

"Me neither," I replied, "but I don't know her. I know YOU. I hope you understand the difference."

Jill nodded.

"I do." she replied. "Thank you."

"Here's your profile." I said, as I clicked a hyperlink. "Let's see, you were born in Bellevue, Nebraska in 1979, as Patsy Mae Whipple."

"What the fuck kind of a name is that?" Jill demanded. "No wonder I changed it to Sylvia Silverstar! Jesus, I'll bet I got called 'Patsy Nipple' or something in school, with a name like that."

She sighed loudly.

"This is a lot for me to take in." she admitted. "Thank you for being here with me. I still feel so ashamed, but having your support means the world to me, Jack. I just can't believe that I used to fuck for money."

"If it makes you feel any better," I offered, "after watching you in 'Around the World in Eighty Lays,' when I got home, I thought about you and jerked off."

"Really?" she inquired. "I turned you on that much?"

"You did." I admitted. "I guess that's why I kept you in the back of my mind and why you seemed so familiar to me. I fantasized about having sex with you a long time ago. I didn't even realize it when it actually happened."

"Was I as good as you imagined?" Jill inquired awkwardly.

"Even better!" I said with a smile. "But it doesn't matter. I fell in love with you, not your talents. I fell in love with Jill; not Patsy or Sylvia, or any other name you may have had in the past."

"I wonder what else there is to know?" she mused. "This is all very heavy to me, Jack."

"I can certainly understand that." I replied.

Suddenly, a flash came over me.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

Jill jumped.

"What's wrong?' she inquired.

"I just remembered." I responded. "I heard your name the other night. You were on the news. I was so tired that I went to bed and then I forgot all about it. Let me try something else in the search engine."

I typed in her name again, but this time I added another word... "DEAD."

Numerous articles suddenly popped up, all with similar titles: "Former Porn Star Dies in Explosion," "LA Rocked by Explosion that kills Former Porn Star" and "Former Porn Star, Sylvia Silverstar Dead at 41."

"Oh my fucking god!" I burst out.

We turned and looked at one another in shocked disbelief. We both uttered the almost same reaction at the exact same time; "You're dead!" and "I'm dead!"

"This can't be right!" I muttered, as I clicked on one of the video links to a news story from Los Angeles.

It had been a live feed from the scene of a horrific explosion. Smoldering ruins of what was either a row of businesses or a bigger building, could be seen smoking in the background, as firefighters were still battling to bring it under control.

"I'm here on scene, at what used to be Rockhard Promotions." the reporter began. "Less than thirty minutes ago, a tremendous explosion ripped this production facility apart. We still have no details on the cause, but there do not seem to be any survivors at this point. Among the deceased is the former porn star-turned-straight, Sylvia Silverstar. The bodies are all burned beyond recognition, but the partially melted license plate of Ms. Silverstar's Porsche 911 was found several hundred feet away, and her purse was recovered intact, from the alley behind the facility. The force of the explosion must have been horrific!"

"You own a Porsche?!" I inquired incredulously.

Jill shrugged.

"I dunno. This is all news to me too, Jack. For all I know, I could own a Yugo."

"How the hell much money did you make?" I wondered aloud. "You know, I always wanted a Porsche. I even named a blue cat I had, Porsche, because I knew I could never afford a real one."

The question was of course rhetorical, as neither of us had a clue as to what was going on. Jill shook her head.

"I have no idea." she managed to reply. "You said you had a friend who was looking into this? Maybe he could help, now that we both know who I am."

"All he has to do is contact the Medical Examiner's Office." I responded. "We all know who you are now. The question that's bugging me, is whose body they have that they think is yours. Somewhere, there is a grieving family that doesn't even know it yet."

Jill sighed.

"That is so sad." she said quietly. "I wonder if I have a family that's grieving over me?"

"Let's find out!" I urged.

I reached for my cell phone and quickly dialed Mike's number, out in Los Angeles.

"Seems like I just talked to you." he quipped, as he answered his cell phone.

"I know who the mystery chick in my bedroom is." I informed him.

"Do tell!" Mike responded.

"Sylvia Silverstar!" I said emphatically.

"She's dead." Mike replied in a professional monotone. "She was killed a couple days ago in an explosion at the film stage where she used to fuck on film. I guess she was a glorified secretary now or something, but either way, she got toasted like a marshmallow, Jack. It can't be her. I'm telling you, she's dead."

"And I'm telling you, she's sitting right next to me, Mike." I said quietly. "Trust me, her tattoo is the same. Along with her face and..."

My voice trailed off, as I tried to find a polite and non TMI way to say what was on my mind.

"And what?" Mike demanded.

"Her skills." I finally managed to mutter. "It's her. I don't know whose body you think is hers, but I can guarantee you, it's not her. I've got the real deal, I can promise you."

"Shit!" Mike burst out. "This was an open and shut case, at least from my end. Thank you so much for throwing a wrench into my gears."

"You're welcome!" I said with a grin, as my sense of humor overtook the situation. "Now all you need to do is find out who YOUR Jane Doe really is. By the way, my Jane Doe still has no idea who she is. Her real name is Patsy Mae Whipple, from Bellevue, Nebraska though. I did manage to find that."

"Hang on a sec." Mike responded. "Let me put this in... Patsy Mae Whipple. Shit. She's in the system, Jack."

"For what?" I inquired.

"Two counts of solicitation for prostitution here in LA." he replied. "1998 and again in 2001. I'm sorry, Jack."

To my surprise, I wasn't stunned at all. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have been expecting bad news. I mean, come on; the perfect woman of my dreams is wandering by my mailbox and this is supposed to end like a Doris Day film? Shit!

"Any outstanding warrants?" I queried, trying to remain professional.

"Nope, just the two I told you about. Seems like the second time she got busted, a sympathetic producer who was posting bond for one of his clients, paid hers as well, and offered her a job getting paid for getting laid."

I was initially annoyed at his remark, but then it hit me that he was still speaking as one detective to another. He wasn't even taking my relationship into consideration.

"Can you email me her sheet?" I inquired, regaining my composure. "I'd like to see it for myself."

"Yeah." Mike replied. "I'll send it out."

"Thanks." I responded.

Suddenly something hit me.

"Hey Mike, you said there was a missing Hispanic woman from the same time frame." I said thoughtfully. "What's the deal with her?"

"Lemme check." he answered. "Shit, almost the same background as your lady friend. She had a bunch of drug and prostitution arrests. Her boyfriend reported her missing the day after the studio blew up."

"There's your additional body, no doubt." I noted. "What was the cause of the blast, by the way? Has it been nailed down yet?"

"Gas leak. Doesn't appear to be any foul play involved." Mike replied. "It's one less angle I have to focus on. I'll call the M.E. and have them check dental records for one Martina Figueroa. I'll let you know what turns up. If she's the one lying in the morgue, then your lady friend has a new lease on life. Email sent, by the way."

"Thanks Guy. Out for now."

I printed the email out and sat down with Jill to read it together downstairs in the living room, and it was not easy. Her parents had been killed in a car crash in Lincoln when she was only two, and she had been placed into foster homes off and on until she ran away at the age of sixteen. She had no siblings or direct relatives, so no one was going to miss her, except for a few adoring fans who were no doubt going to be crushed at the news of her death.

Jill seemed to be in a bit of a daze at learning all of this. She shook her head blankly and stared at me.

"I still can't believe that's who I am." she finally managed to mutter softly.

"I still can't believe you have a Porsche." I said with a smile, trying to raise her spirits a bit.

"I mean it, Jack." she said seriously. "How can you even look at me the same way after all of this?"

"Because I love you." I replied. "I told you before, I didn't know Patsy or Sylvia; just Jill. The woman that has been staying in my house for the past few days is the most beautiful woman I ever ever known. You are kind and caring, and you can cook too!

"After Ann passed, I never thought I could love someone like her ever again, but I can and I do. Whatever you did before I met you on the side of the road makes no difference to me. Mike will help us sort all of this out and get to the bottom of everything. Then if you want, you have a place in my life. I love you, Jill."

"Oh Jack!" she cried, throwing her arms around me, "I love you too! Thank you!"

We embraced tightly for several moments, and I felt my eyes misting up as I held her. I was so happy! I hadn't felt like this since Ann had died, and to be quite honest, it was a wonderful feeling to have inside of me again.

"We'll get through this together, okay?" I said quietly, as I continued holding her dearly. "Once everything gets cleared up in Cali, we'll figure out how to proceed with all of this."

"Okay." she agreed. "I just have no idea what kind of life I had out there. Well, I mean I know sort of, but I don't know if I have any debts or what I even own. Maybe I don't even want to know. Maybe I'm three months behind in my rent!"

"We'll find out soon enough." I replied soothingly. "As soon as Mike determines that you are not resting in the county refrigerator, you'll be able to get your purse back. It'll have all of your ID and stuff, so you can at least prove who you are for the insurance claim on your car. It's a place to start at least. Then, I'll know which name you're using in real life, so I know what to call you."

Jill smiled.

"Jill will be fine." she said happily. "Just like you, I don't know who either of those two women are or were. Patsy is a horrible name, and I'm sure as hell not going by my porn name either. Jesus, I hope I didn't have it legally changed."

"You know," I said wistfully, "You could always legally change it to Jill."

"Jill what?" she responded. "I don't like the name of Jill Whipple either."

"I was kind of thinking that... well you know... maybe Jill Laporte."

"Why Laporte?" she asked in a puzzled tone.

I suddenly realized that I had never actually told her my own last name; only that I wrote under the pseudonym of Jack DeVille. She had obviously assumed that it was my real name.

"Well," I said slowly, trying not to ruin the moment that I had most likely already destroyed, "it's my last name, and I was kind of hoping that maybe you might like to take it too. Jack DeVille is my 'nom de plume' for my books, so I guess we both have alter egos to deal with."

It took a few seconds for my suggestion to sink in, and Jill sucked her breath in as she realized what I was actually trying to say in all of my awkwardness.

"Are... are you asking me to marry you?" she inquired incredulously. "Is that why you want me to take your last name?"

"I guess I am." I replied with a feeble smile. "I sure ruined the moment by presenting it that way, but yes. Jill... will you marry me?"

She nodded vigorously and burst into tears.

"Oh yes!" she gushed. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"Oh yes, I'll be your wife!" she exclaimed. "Jill Laporte, I love it! Oh Jack, thank you! I'll make you so happy! I promise!"

"You already have." I said with a smile.

Suddenly Jill's facial expression changed, and she looked at me with a bit of trepidation in her eyes.

"What about Ann?" she inquired cautiously. "Jack, you still love her."

"I think she'll be okay with it." I replied. "I think she would want for me to meet someone as sweet and caring as she was, and for me to be happy. Let's go tell her."

Jill nodded, and we headed for the grave atop the other hill. The sky had clouded over, and everything was a little dull outside, but it didn't look like rain, although everything was dead still. We reached the headstone, and I placed my hand atop it as I always did when talking to Ann.

"Hello Sweetheart." I said softly. "I'd like for you to meet someone."

Jill stepped forward somewhat awkwardly, and placed her hand next to mine on the large slab of pink granite.

"This is Jill." I explained. "I found her all alone and she needed help. I've come to grow very fond of her, Ann. I miss you terribly, but I hope you understand that it's time that I move on with my life. I will never stop loving you, ever, but I really love her too. I've asked her to marry me, and we hope we have your blessing."

The dead calm was suddenly replaced by the sound of wind rushing up the hill through the pines. As it got closer, the clouds parted for a few seconds, enveloping the small plot in bright sunshine as the breeze engulfed us. Then, just quickly as it had started, the wind subsided and the sun disappeared once again.

"Was that her?" Jill whispered quietly. "Was that a sign, do you think? It sure was weird."

I nodded and smiled.

"I believe it was." I replied. "I think that was her way of telling us that everything's going to be okay."

"Then let's go to your special place." Jill suggested. "I think it should be OUR special place from now on."

I nodded in agreement, and we walked hand in hand to the bottom of the stepped water chutes, where the tinkling waters sounded like bells, as they cascaded into the circular pool at the bottom. We shed our clothes and embraced once again; our ardor surging, as our mouths pressed together in urgent response to our feelings. I led Jill into the shallow pool, where we dropped to our knees and continued making out, as the cool water enveloped us.

"Sand bar!" I rasped hoarsely, and we rolled onto the pile of wet mica sand.

Jill ended up on her back, and I slid my cock deeply into her cunt. I pumped her vigorously for several minutes as we both grunted in pleasure. I was beginning to tire, so I pulled her up.

"On your hands and knees!" I panted.

I slammed into her from behind, reaching under her chest and squeezing her soft tits in my hands as I fucked her. Jill was moaning loudly, as my dick slid in and out of her slippery cunt.

"It feels so good!" she whispered. "Oh Christ! Fuck me, Jack! Fuck me harder!"

I continued my assault into her cunt from behind, and Jill was really getting wild. Thank god this place is so remote! I think her screams were echoing in every direction, as I pounded her relentlessly.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" she screamed. "It feels so good!"

"It does!" I agreed, as I could feel my own impending orgasm building.

Jill bucked wildly and almost pulled off of me, but I managed to hold her long enough to finish my own orgasm. I shot spurt after spurt of my hot semen deep inside of her belly as she wailed like a climaxing banshee. Slowly, our movements subsided, and we collapsed onto the cool, wet sand; our hearts beating fiercely as we each gulped for air.

"You are incredible!" I gasped, as my chest heaved in its quest for oxygen.

"So are you!" she squeaked in reply. "God, we are going to be so happy together!"

"We are indeed." I agreed, as I slowly got to my feet and helped her up. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you!"

"Me either." she said warmly, as we snuggled. "Do you want kids, Jack?"

"Very much." I answered. "I was too busy when I was working, and then Jill- I mean Ann, got sick, and we never had the chance."

"I do too." Jill responded. "It's time I settled down and became a mother. Of course, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, but then again, you probably don't either."

"A gold star on that!" I agreed. "I can't wait to learn with you, though."

We picked our clothes up but declined to put them back on, instead opting to walk clothes-free back to the house. We were both beginning to like walking around without any clothes on, and we decided to be that way as much as we could, from here on out. Upon returning to the house to shower, we were stunned to discover Jill's new wardrobe laid out neatly on the bed, with one of Ann's ensembles crossed over it. Jill's flashy new sunhat had been carefully placed on top of everything, and we stared at one another in awe.

"I think that means that her things are now your things." I said quietly, as tears streamed down my cheeks. "We have her blessing, Jill. It's okay to take over."

Jill and I spent the next few days catching up on what a long-lost couple would tend to catch up on, and then I finally got a follow-up from Mike about the case. I put the phone on speaker so that Jill could hear what he had to say as well.

"Well, you were right." he commented. "The body we thought was Sylvia, turned out to be Martina Figueroa, also known as Martina Melons. We notified her boyfriend, and just like Miss Silverstar, she had no family."

"No one is going to miss either one of them." I said sadly. "Do me a favor would you, Mike?"

"What's that?"

"Don't release this to the Press. Let sleeping dogs lie. As far as they know, Sylvia Silverstar is dead. There's no reason to drag Miss Figueroa into this."

"Will do." Mike replied. "Her death certificate has been signed, so your friend is still legally alive. By the way, I have her purse if you'd like me to send it to you."

"Please!" I acknowledged. "She'll need her ID to take a new name and start over."

"She'll need it to collect on her insurance for the Porsche, and for the inheritance she's getting too." Mike said enthusiastically. "Apparently, her secretary job was just a front for her boyfriend. She was tight with the producer, and when he got lunched in that explosion, he left everything to her. The company, a beach house in Malibu and a dozen sports cars. The lawyer handling the estate has been notified that your gal pal is still alive and well. Get her out here when you can. In the meantime, I'll overnight her purse."

"Oh thank you!" Jill burst out. "I don't want any of that stuff though. It's part of me that I never want to remember. Can't I just donate it to charity or something?"

"You'll have to inherit it first. That's the law. Then you can do what you want with it." Mike responded. "If you want to sell it all off and donate everything to a charity, that will be completely legal. You can just write it all off."