Author's note: this story follows characters first introduced in "What Cums Around Goes Around" and "What Cums Around Goes Around, Again," this is designed to be read alone or for added enjoyment, in conjunctions with their first two stories.
The doorbell rang as James descended the stairs on his way to the kitchen for a glass of OJ.
Hearing her voice in the kitchen, his mind reminisced and realized it had been a couple of months since the event he and Melanie agreed to tell no one about, especially his wife Andrea. Little did he know it had been only a month since Andrea and Melanie endured a similar experience.
Melanie was the only one who knew exactly what they both wouldn't tell the other; the only admission of what they'd done to her were the occasional knowing glances she exchanged with each. She didn't resent either of them; she was well aware there was nothing they could've done, and, in a way, she was glad they'd been the ones.
James secretly admitted to himself it wasn't a wholly unpleasant experience. Sure, he felt bad about being forced to cheat on his wife, and he felt sorry for Melanie having her first time filmed in the back of a van, but it could've been worse...
Andrea hadn't changed her tutoring arrangement with Melanie because it would've raised suspicion and required an explanation which nobody could really brainstorm. Plus, Melanie was still college bound and needed all the assistance she could get, and helping her achieve her dream seemed like the least Andrea could do.
"Honey, can you get that; we're working in here on this epic application?" called his wife from the living room.
As he peered through the peephole, he saw the top of a UPS hat with its telltale patch looking down as its owner typed away on a tablet.
"Awesome," delightedly thought James, "I love packages; I hope it's for me!" gleeful as a kid on Christmas.
Mike was actually a nice enough guy, or at least he thought he was; even when he considered what he did for a living, he still didn't view himself as a bad person, per se. He avoided violence at nearly all costs. And he justified his actions by feeling Life had dealt him a bum rap and now he had a rap sheet which quickly brought his "promising" film career to an end.
Like many fresh graduates from film school, he'd been approached by the porn industry. He had no real interest in it, but as the bills were building and his loans were looming, their offer began teaming with temptation. He had no intention of making it his career, but a few shoots couldn't hurt. Mike thought he'd take one or two jobs, for some quick cash and then get back on track.
If he'd only known how much one choice would derail his future. Sure, she looked young, but the producer assured him she was legit, and Mike foolishly (or wishfully) believed him. One thing led to another and before he knew it, charges were flying: exploitation of a minor.
Such a mar on your career prevented you from ever being mainstream. That blemish even prevented him from working in the industry that got him into all of this trouble in the first place: porn. Poor guy, when he was released he was quickly faced with a life of meat packing or garbage processing.
A director/cinematographer needs a film crew and that is where Alex and Todd came into the picture. Alex was guilty of mail fraud, and Todd was a foolish guy who agreed to transport drugs to make a little extra. They'd all met in prison, and when they got out, they decided to start a business together—the rest is history.
James was too distracted by the large package Mike handed over to even recognize him and once he did, it was too late. Having to drop the package before he could push back gave Mike and his crew just enough time to get their foot in the door. Hearing the crash of the box, Andrea asked, "Who is it Honey?"
"Oh, just an old acquaintance," answered a familiar voice.
Both Andrea and Melanie grew pale as the placed the utterance, "Mike...?"
Their mutual question was answered as they saw James being brought in, his mouth covered and arms held behind his back, by Alex.
"How did you find us?" asked Andrea, frustrated James had just let him in.
"Well, I caught you in this neighborhood both times, so I assumed you must live around here; it took only a matter of days before I saw you enter this house—it's not rocket science," he explained.
Continuing his assessment of the situation, Mike noted, "It's always best when the whole original cast comes back for the third one. You always know it'll be a flop when they start hiring new people. Plus, people love triangles, especially one as complicated as yours." Gazing off into the distance, "It's like this story is cumming full circle," Mike began to wax poetic. But only the guys seemed to recognize the perverted slight Rambo reference.
"Now I don't want any of you to be holding a grudge; you should all know the films have been huge hits, and once again, the demand for a conclusion necessitated a third outing. But, you have my honest to goodness word this time round will be the last. You can always tell a series has gone on far too long when they start churning out a fourth and a fifth and so on," assured Mike looking around.
"Plus, just look at this set," directed Mike taking it all it, "it is a perfect combination of functional lived in realness and quintessential bourgeoisie; it'll really up the production value to have this one shot in something other than the van."
"I must admit, I've never had a cast so large—it isn't easy fitting three plus me in the back of the van. Sure we've had solo projects before where a girl has to perform all of the parts herself." Reminiscing as if to himself, "Actually, those go pretty smoothly since she is so relieved to hear all she has to do is rub one out and take a dildo or two on camera," Mike explained.
