My name is Jim David. Yes, that Jim David. The guy who writes, produces and stars in those off off Broadway plays with all the female nudity that all the critics-- and all the males in the audience-- love, and which all other normal people passionately hate.
Would you believe I started posting those plays on a website just like this one? Fresh out of college with a degree in English Lit and my only chance to work was for free for my last professor. Uh huh.
Posting my most insane fantasies in play form was just my way of coping. Until an equally insane investor contacted me, insisted he was real, and offered to produce my works.
Within a year, my first play was out there. It was a strange story in which a young man (played by me) continuously fantasizes about what the women in his life look like nude. Naturally, every female in the play appears naked to me and to the audience, although they remain dressed in the play's reality.
Dismissed as "sexist bullshit" and "masturbatory material" by some, a major media outlet praised it, and they actually got my point: Jim is so lost in his fantasies, he can't see how good he really has it.
Then came a call from my favorite (and only) investor to come out to his estate in the Hamptons to talk about turning my plays into an erotic streaming series.
Dennis Caine was a bit of a Hollywood legend. He had produced two series that became cult favorites. One was science fiction and was cancelled after two seasons. Somehow he got a movie version of 'The Planet Thieves' out there and sci fi fans turned it into a surprise hit. That paid for the estate.
The second cult series? 'Candi Sweet, P. I.'
Believe it or not, that was all about the adventures of a sexy female detective named Candi Sweet. Candi was played by Carly Conners, who soon become the number one poster girl in teen boy bedrooms, including mine.
5' 8" and 38C - 25 - 36 if I recall (and of course I do. Her measurements I'm sure were memorialized as many a young man's locker combination.)
The series was of course dismissed as a ripoff of 'Charlies Angels.' Candi always was seen in mini skirts, bikinis, lingerie or just happening to be stepping out of the shower. She would go undercover as a call girl, a stripper, or at a nudist colony. The key was that she was secretly smart and played up the sexy part to distract the bad guys.
Dennis ended up a hero in my eyes when he married Carly. This was like Ringo marrying Barbara Bach. And fifteen years later, they were still together.
Then at the last possible minute, Dennis called and asked me to come over a little earlier for a pool party. I was about to protest that I didn't do pool parties when he added "Carly has actually snuck in to see your play; she's dying to meet you!"
Carly Conners at a pool party. I was twenty-nine at the time, a regular wunderkind, but I instantly flashed back fifteen years to the many times I had 'entertained myself' watching Candi Sweet partially undressed. I was probably about to see Carly poolside -- in the flesh-- how could I say no?
Traffic was awful and of course I was late. I never got to see much of the vast estate, which consisted of several buildings centered around a house out of 'The Great Gatsby.' No, being late, I was ushered out in back to a pool that was the size and shape of a small lake. The pool was next to its' own buildings: a changing room with showers and a boathouse.
My immediate concern was to look for sweet Carly-- and to help myself to drinks and hors d'oeuvres served on silver plates by smiling hostesses in matching white bikinis. Ah, how the other half lives!
Just my luck to be targeted by a failed playwright who always seemed to find me at parties. "Oh Jim! I have another dynamite idea!" was Walter's way of saying 'hi.'
So there I was, nodding occasionally, trying to stay awake by scanning the vast pool with my sensors on high and... she emerged.
I swear that the whole area went silent and a sunbeam picked her out. Well maybe not. There were ladders leading out of the pool at intervals and just across and to our right she started climbing. Long wet auburn hair that still looked fantastic, lightly tanned shoulders and back just cut by a half-inch strap. And then her bottom.
The lilac bikini was so tight and so wet that it looked like body paint. The cheeks of her perfect ass were globes unto themselves; each a world to explore. And then she had legs!
Always, even then, Carly made those silly internet lists of best celebrity legs. Climbing up that ladder, she had the strong, muscular legs of the world's sexiest long-distance runner. But when she reached the top and stretched out to dry, they were the luscious limbs of a cabaret dancer, lifting her skirts to show off legs and lace.
I had a sudden feeling that my immediate area had gotten quiet-- too quiet. I turned to see not only Walter (nearly drooling) but grinning just behind us, the lovely Mr. Carly... husband Dennis.
We instantly went stiff, and yes, I mean all of our other parts went stiff. But then he clapped us both on the backs a little too hard. "It's alright, it's alright," he assured us. "I understand. I might as well tell you two to stop watching the sunset."
And then he went off-- but not before inviting me to spend the night.
I spend the next hour or so stuffing mixed drinks and exotic food inside me when I'm tapped on the shoulder. "I've been looking for you" said Carly Conners, beaming at me in a diaphanous white coverup, all legs and curves, bikini quite visible underneath.
"Oh," I said, "Hi!" I continued, already the brilliant conversationalist. I got a quick hug and a peck on the cheek and was stumped as to where to put my hands on her fine form when I hugged her back.
"I loved your play and I don't understand the controversy. I mean, haven't we gotten used to tits and ass by now?"
I sent a mental message back in time to my younger self, like in a Stephen King movie. You will:
1) be standing next to a bikinied Carly Conners who will use the phrase "tits and ass;"
and
2) you WILL lose your virginity. Soon. One day.
We attempted to engage in more small talk. My small talk consisted of: "Oh!" and "Yes!" and "I see!". After a while she grinned.
"I'll see you at dinner and I promise I'll be dressed. Then maybe your tongue will be untied." Then she gave me a really warm hug, and a kiss that was equally warm and lingering, as she waved and moved her legs and her curves back into the crowd.
I would like to say that, that night, unable to sleep, there was a soft knock on my door. It was of course Carly wearing nothing but a flimsy negligee.
"You can't sleep either" she said, wrapping her arms around me. "I'm only here to see if that tongue of yours is still tied."
I would like to say that, except that nothing of the sort happened. Except that I was wide awake for a while with even naughtier thoughts of Carly filling my head.
Months later, play number one is losing ground; time to stir up some interest with play number two. The plot involves a young man in the future who orders a very realistic sex doll. She comes with an A.I. whose personality adapts to his. Soon, he's more interested in intense discussions with this female robot than in sex.
The big nude scene occurs after she's unwrapped. The actress will be totally nude on stage (although possibly with some kind of pussy cover) facing away from the audience.
The instruction manual is written in cutesy terms: "spin her dials" equals play with her nipples; "open the top cabinet and find the hidden button" means to spread her outer lips and check out her clitoris.
All the pussy handling is supposed to be faked, although the man (lucky me) is supposed to withdraw his fingers at the end of 'checking out her cubbyhole' and mutter "too much lubrication!"
We put out a casting call and crossed our fingers and everything else. We let it be known we were looking for a fairly well known actress who was willing to put up with such indignities.
That first day, we got:
1) a girl who had just done a memorable body lotion commercial; everyone was turned on by her mouth-watering shower scene. Turns out she was wearing a flesh-tone bikini then and was horrified about a nude scene now.
Talking her out of her clothes and auditioning this shaky little cutie nude... I wanted a cigarette afterwards, but I didn't smoke.
2) a sort of well known porn star who had made an X-rated movie that had gone mainstream. We really appreciated her showing up but, she had not only aged, she had artificially enhanced certain assets beyond belief.
