AUTHORS NOTE: Many of the characters in this story have appeared in my previous works.
*
It was an unusual situation, to say the least, especially by Donkey standards, but they had begun auditioning females. It was Jane's idea. Hideki had made but one request: "Blondes, lots of blondes, and Japanese boys, college boys. I can send you ten, twenty, how many you like."
"What about a script," she asked?
"Use your imagination. I want something big, number one in Japan. Your imagination," he said, patting her panty-clad butt as he spoke, "runs wild." Hideki worshipped his bride. Not only was she a good fuck, she was good for business. It wasn't an accident that her towel accidentally fell off at the resort's hot springs, in front of his associates. They had all brought their mistresses, but Hideki's mistress was also his wife, and the other men were jealous. Fuelled by rice wine, and Jane's subtle suggestiveness, the ladies eventually got the men to take part in a penis comparison contest. In this Jane lived up to her reputation as the wild western sexpot who was tamed by the Japanese industrialist; the kicker being that he couldn't eradicate her naughty side completely. It was a popular fantasy that sold well. And judging by the copious amounts of sperm that emanated from her husband's cock that evening, Hideki was a happy camper. Jane earned her keep.
She thus returned to Los Angeles with a mandate, along with a big budget and a big appetite. Jane had a script half-written, two incredible scenes, but she needed more. Monica was still on holiday, having met some young bi-sexual Australians, and was cavorting somewhere with them. Jane managed to reach her by email, and Monica told her to go for it, so she had free reign for the next Donkey film. Her idea of conducting research was to spend an entire afternoon being serviced by Dan. The idea that cemented the video crystallized after a lengthy sexual session, and it was all because Dan was cursing himself over his final ejaculation. "I have to work tonight," he said, ruefully.
"Doing what, stripping?" Jane gazed at his spent shaft in wonder. By her estimation he had cum five times.
Something like that." Dan had a nude waiter business. He didn't do it often; his reputation was solely word-of-mouth, and only in the highest circles, so when he did work it was for top dollar. "I've done parties for some of the richest, most glamorous women in Hollywood," he boasted. He usually worked with two or three other guys, and always had a list of available studs at the ready. One of his selling points, which was even stipulated in the business agreement, was that Dan and his crew would masturbate at the end of the night, usually in front of a roaring, raucous crowd of horny women, no matter how many ejaculations they may have already had.
"Has anybody ever not cum?"
"Once. It happened once...he's not working for me anymore."
"Any of your studs Donkey material? How come you never bring them around?"
"I don't like to mix business with pleasure." Dan thought a moment. "Since you're the best fuck I ever had...I got this one guy, he's an African dude, with the biggest dick on the planet. I'm not kidding. He says he descends from a tribe that was known for having big cocks. I'm telling you, the guy is twice my size..."
"Twice your size? C'mon Dan, get real."
Dan nodded his head and smiled. "I saw it getting measured. It took four girls to hold it up."
Jane turned bright red. "Four girls, she said, smiling? He sounds like a freak."
"That's nothing. We call him the Helicopter. He can twirl it around. It drives the girls crazy. And you should see him cum. It's like a shower."
"Well, what the fuck?" She laughed. "This I gotta see. I want the Helicopter," she said. "I need the Helicopter. Ask him if he wants to make a video." After a moment of thoughtfully contemplating the visual of a roomful of mini-skirted hotties being driven insane - thighs, legs, panties, man-meat, semen - she asked how many girls would be at the party.
"There's two sisters," he said, smiling in remembrance of his previous liaison, "late twenties-early thirties, big inheritance, jewelry, makeup...you know the type. I did a party last month for one sister, and tonight the other one's having it at her house. There could be twenty people or there could be two, depending on how horny they are, but these sisters are fucking delectable."
"You're giving me an idea for a script," she said. "I needed a scene and now I got it. And I need the Helicopter in the worst way."
"What, you gonna film a strip show?"
"Something like that," she said, smiling. Jane was going to reward him with another orgasm but, mindful of his job, she suggested a shower. "Come on," she said, "you can pee on me."
Female casting was critical. Hideki wanted blondes and Jane wanted new faces, so she decided to advertise, even putting it out on the website. Anyone who was interested in becoming a Donkey girl needed only to apply. It was a brilliant promotion. Within a week they had over one hundred applicants. Herman was fixated on the computer, perusing all of them. Jane didn't know what she was looking for, but she'd know it when she saw it, and who better to assist her than a teenager with raging hormones and an anxious cock? She was hoping to find three or four women, and they had to fall into one of three categories: slut, skank, or sexy. Jane wanted at least one for each. Ultimately she found five women that intrigued her, and brought them in for auditions.
"This is going to be fun." Herman rubbed his hands gleefully.
"Listen up, my friend, I don't want you to scare them off. You've been getting a little unruly lately. Don't forget who's in charge. You're here to appraise them and comment on their style. No freaky stuff, okay?"
Mandy was in the outer office acting as the first point-of-contact as the ladies arrived. Jane texted her and said they were ready for the first one. There was a bit of commotion when the door opened. "Hey bitch, I was here first," said a high-pitched, squeaky voice, and after a minor struggle out strode the first applicant.
"I could have searched for a year," Jane would say later, "and not found anyone better," in reference to Arlene, "though to be honest, it was that fucking dress and boots she had on." The slinky black mini-dress that so captivated her had thin white, horizontal stripes running across it, and it made was of thin, satiny, velvety material. It was nearer a camisole than a dress, more like lingerie in terms of body coverage, and Jane admired her boldness. Herman's erection hardened by the second.
Because of the mini, Arlene's thighs garnered a lot of attention. They were taut, toned and fit. She was five foot four, but appeared taller, due to her leggy, thin frame and oval-shaped face. But her dress, it was literally one of those OMG moments. It was exceedingly short, but she managed to sit down without revealing her panties, frustrating Herman in the process, whose boner strained from the pressure. It was sticking out at a forty-five degree angle and throbbing.
Jane cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to say this, but as you can see, my stylist is a pervert. He's gonna stare at your crotch until he sees your panties."
Arlene smiled, and remained unfazed when Herman walked over and touched her hem, and she didn't flinch when he rubbed his hand along her thigh. "I love this material. Oh yes," he said, playing the role of gay stylist, which allowed him to go unchallenged when lifting up her hem up, but he didn't like what he saw. "Black panties? Listen, you need to wear white panties with this dress. Herman lifted her hem higher and stared underneath. "What are they, silk or something? I can see right through them. You got a smoothie."
"That's enough, Herman."
"I don't mind," said Arlene. "When I wear this dress I expect men to stare, I guess I want them to stare, or else I wouldn't wear it, right? Besides, I recognize him. He's the naughty boy in the films who has to wear a cock clamp."
"See, I told you," Jane exclaimed. "You're typecast, buddy."
"I'm not wearing that clamp again."
"Yeah, yeah."
"I love your stuff," Arlene confessed. "I was on the website; that's how I found out about this. I thought, why not? I watch the product. I've gone to strip clubs, so when I saw the ad..."
Arlene was a twenty-one year old administrative assistant who lived for the weekends, especially the Friday nights that she and a girlfriend went to a male strip club, because, "if you're having a night out and drinking, why not look at studs with big cocks parading around? You won't believe the shit the ladies do to them."
"Wait," said Jane, "you go to an actual strip club? I didn't even know they existed."
"Oh yeah, they're still popular. Sometimes there are two hundred women there. It's insane."
"Talk about typecasting. Girl, we're gonna have to talk."
"Do you ever touch them," asked Herman? His cock was rigid, and it was pointing directly at Arlene.
"If I'm drunk, sure, I'll yank it a little. Sometimes I'll even yank it a lot."
"Ever jerked one off," Jane asked?
"No, or should I say, not yet."
"Girl, I like the way you think."
"It's all in fun, but I really do get turned-on. I'm careful about what I put in my mouth, so I don't suck them like some girls do. By the end of the night I can't wait to go home and masturbate."
"I bet you own a world-class vibrator," observed Jane, to which Arlene simply smiled and winked. She had her fill of one-night stands and had grown tired of the dating scene. In addition to watching strippers, masturbating to porn was her short-term substitute.
