L.A. Lives
A major new series, this is exclusive to the readers of LITEROTICA.COM… based around the exploits at a Los Angeles talent agency.
Episode One.
Scene One
I sat back in my chair, head lolling into the comfy leather rest, sinking right in. The chair was pushed back from the desk, but my hands were firmly gripped to it, flat out, arms outstretched. I grunted incoherently, 'hu-hurrrrrrr' and raised my hips back and forth in fast, eager thrusts.
I was looking down and could hardly believe my eyes.
'You must w-w-want this job preeeeetty badly…' I said between gasps. The pretty red lips stopped sliding round the end of my dick. The girl looked at me, devilishly smiled and made to speak. I instinctively took my right hand off the desk and started whacking my dick roughly against the young model-turned-actress's cheek as she tried to nod and smile. 'Huuuh… For fuck's sake, keep sucking, hmmmm…'
I was about to shoot a fat load of gloopy jism into another would-be starlets mouth. Just a few more strokes with those masterful lips. The flood-gates would soon be opening…
'That's it, honey… Roll my balls between your fingers. Dig in those shiny red nails. Ahhh, you ARE good… I'm gonna make you a star… gonna be the biggest star… the brightest in the whole of Hollywood… Just another sec…'
BRIIIIIIIIIING – BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.
'ahh, jesus…' I brushed the young woman away from me, trail of precum running from her smudged-lipsticked lower lip to my pants. God, she looked fine. I quickly buckled up, and waved her to go sit on a sofa in the corner of my office. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck…' I zipped my fly up.
The girl slinked away, wiping her lushious lips on the back of her hand. I leered at her perfect ass as she went. She slumped down on the sofa, picked up a glossy magazine and started to flick through it. I grabbed the phone and barked into the receiver. 'What the fuck is it, Rachel? This better be good, and I mean good…'
My PA the incredibly sexy, incredibly English Rachel was not taken aback by my manner. I imagined her coolly raising an eyebrow. She knew me… my bark was worse than my bite.
'Look Paul,' she said. 'Your father just called… Your meeting with him is cancelled. Remember - The one this afternoon…'
'You interrupted my appointment to say that? Jeez….'
'I know you're…' (…pause…) 'busy, Paul, but he told me to tell you right away. Besides he's on his way over… now…'
'Now? NOW? Oh Christ… Didn't you tell him I was interviewing fresh talent till lunch?' I looked longingly over at the nubile woman on my sofa, my cock twitched wistfully in my boxers. My heart went out to it. I trailed my eyes over the woman. Down her legs, long tanned, gorgeous, hmmm… Those strappy shoes and pointed heels… 'Hang on. Just a minute Rachel…' I placed a hand over the receiver.
'Penny…' The girl looked up from her magazine.
'It's Penelope, actually…'
'Whatever. Could you get your feet off of my coffee table. Please…' She looked at me, disbelieving then sulky, then slid her perfect legs onto the floor.
'Thank you…' I went back to the phone. 'Look Rachel this is not good timing for me… Not good at all.'
'Well, tough. He'll be here in ten minutes.' The line went dead. She'd hung up on me. The fucking bitch hung up on me? 'That girl has got serious discipline problems. What the fuck do I pay her for…' I muttered aloud. Of course, I knew exactly why I paid her. Because she looked fucking amazing...
'Get your coat… I'll show you out…' I said, turning to the sofa. The girl frowned.
'So…Am I on your books?' she said.
'Sorry?'
'Does the agency want me?' She was really trying to be seductive but I could see she thought I was an asshole just for telling her to get her feet off the coffee table. She was a spoilt rich bitch who'd probably never been shouted at in her life.
I smiled. 'We'll be in touch. The agency has a lot of talent to get through.' I held the door open for her, surveyed her ass at close range as she stepped out. 'See you… Penny.' I watched her walk away, through the glass partition at the end of our waiting room. She made her way to the elevator.
'So…' said Rachel, looking up from her desk. 'You going to hire her?'
'Huh? Nah. She can't act for shit.' I watched as the tall, slim blond stepped into the elevator. 'Shame though…' I traced my way with my eyes from the top of her ankles to the top of her butt as the doors slide shut. 'Really a shame…'
Rachel smiled, shook her head.
'So how long before pops arrives?' I said 'long enough for me to fuck your brains out darlin'?'
Rachel glanced at me over her specs. She scrunched her nose. 'About ten minutes. And no. You couldn't afford me. And even if you could, I'd never say yes in a million years… Besides I think he's got something important to tell you… You ought to be ready and waiting…'
Damn.
I'll screw Rachel one day. I vow it.
Scene Two
This is the deal. My dad runs a casting/modelling agency in LA. He's had it since he was a young man and before that his dad ran the show. And in a few weeks it'll all be mine. The old guy's retiring.
Now you might think everyone in this town wants to be a star. And you'd be almost right. Everyone that is apart from my dad, my gramps before him and now me. And of course a few other agents who've realised that this is the job where the real perks are at…Screw acting… you get to bed more talent in week as the guy who hires the actors than some jobbing actor will fuck in a lifetime… trust me. Hell, you don't even have to look that good.
When I was a kid I told my pops I wanted to be a firefighter.
My dad smiled, said I'd change my mind. Then, when I was about fifteen, I decided I was gonna be a lawyer. Again dad said I wouldn't stick it.
'The family business,' he would say with a wink. 'You'll take it over one day… it's in your blood… like father, like son…'
I suppose I was about eighteen, it was thanksgiving… My pop and gramps were drunkenly reminising one evening about work.
Gramps started telling us this long rambling story climaxing with him titty fucking Marilyn Monroe in a limo. I never did believe that story, but he told it with such a glint in his eye, so maybe…
…'that's nothing' my dad chipped in as Granddad finished his story. 'I remember sharing a bath with Goldie Hawn and Jane Fonda one time. Between 'em those girls made me cum so hard.. my dick was aching when they'd done… Aching.. And they still wanted more. Those two were devils. They were sure fine though, back in the day…'
I swigged my beer, listening. Fuck being a lawyer, I thought.
Scene Three
Anyway. Back to the here and now.
I did, as you've gathered, join the family business. I'd been working there a couple of years which means I had a nice desk, nice office. Mansion, cars, the works…
A fucking incredible PA who flat refused to bang me (…God, you can be so cruel sometimes…).
My job description was to find and cultivate new acting talent… And generally this meant interviewing young girls who'd made their way from shitholes like Oklahoma or Kansas with crazy dreams of making it big. Sometimes I'd find them a walk-on part in a music video or whatever.
Believe me. You would be amazed at what these girls would do if they thought for a second it would help them get famous. Really.
And there were the other girls. Usually from Europe. From London, Paris, Milan. They would slap you in the face as soon as you explained to them the way Hollywood really worked – i.e. you fuck or you don't work. They'd storm out, all indignant.
But usually they'd be back after a week or two… Saying they'd changed their minds… Sometimes I'd make them beg me to give them another chance. After I'd unloaded onto them or into them I'd boot them out and tell them their services wouldn't be required after all.
As you can tell. I am a bit of a bastard.