Nancys Second Act Ch 01

(1 of 3)

Author's note: I don't know how the entertainment industry works. This story is for masturbatory purposes only.

*****

Alan Aarons:

To be honest, I was glad to have the house to myself. I mean, it's great spending more time with Nancy, now that we're empty nesters. But you know there is such a thing as too much togetherness. With her out of the house for an evening I would have some time to indulge in my more private hobbies. I'm getting back into using FotoFix and have been experimenting with some of the spicier uses for the software. I'm talking about porn fakes. I like to put my wife's face on other womens' bodies.

Not that Nancy doesn't have a great body for her age. She is a very attractive woman -- way out of my league. I met her on the set of a popular TV show back in the 90s. I was an assistant director and she was a budding actress. She didn't get any lines but you sure knew when she was on screen. I have no doubt she was destined for greatness before we got in a family way. Now, kids and grandkids later she's as beautiful as she ever was, at least to me.

So why the fakes? Nancy was always a bit of a prude. Not that she wouldn't wear bathing suits or lingerie. But she wouldn't pose in them the way I would have liked her to. And she sure didn't like having her picture taken in a lewd or suggestive way. She would do it if she had to, for a role or for publicity stills. But she didn't like it. Nowadays I see guys sharing pictures of their wives and girlfriends and I feel like I missed out on something.

I started by putting her into iconic fantasy and sci-fi scenes. Tame ones to start, photographic cosplay -- Star Trek, Xena, etc. Nancy liked the pictures I showed her at first. She was impressed with my skills, I guess, and flattered that I still saw her that way. I put her on Princess Leia's body, the gold bikini, you know, very sexy. She didn't like that one as much. After that, I didn't show her every little thing I was doing. When I put her on Barbarella's body, wow, I knew then that I was going to cross a line.

So I put together a collection of images, images of women who somewhat resemble my wife but are posing in a way that Nancy never would. I'm not going to share these pics so don't ask. I just want to look at them and think back to when we had that, you know, young lust. Obviously, this isn't something I can work on when there is a danger of her looking over my shoulder.

It's actually for a pretty cool reason that Nancy is out of the house tonight. Since the kids have all moved out she is trying to get back into acting. It's heartbreaking to help her deal with rejection after rejection. But finally she is getting callbacks for a role in a promising new TV show. She has a meeting with studio management this evening. That can only be a good thing, right?

*****

Nancy Aarons:

The offices were a marvel of opulence and modern design. Nancy felt like a tourist as she followed the receptionist through the maze of suites. The tall elegant woman, Gwendolyn her name was, led her into the inner sanctum, all the way to the office of Moore Gold, president of Halogen Productions.

She was expecting to meet with a committee so she was a little confused to find only Mr. Gold waiting for her, sitting behind his enormous desk and talking on the telephone. He glanced at her and gave a friendly wave before going back to his call. Gwendolyn directed her to the black velvet sofa. The young woman wished her luck and pulled the door shut as she left.

Mr. Gold hung up the phone and crossed the room to greet her. He shook her hand with both of his which made her feel special. She felt awed by his presence. Was that because she knew who he was? A man of great wealth and influence? He wasn't imposing, physically. Just shy of six-foot, overweight but not obese. Hair starting to go thin on top. He roughly resembled her husband. But this man carried a lot of weight in the industry. At his word, hundreds of millions of dollars would move.

"I want to thank you for coming tonight, Nancy."

"You're most welcome, Mister Gold," she replied. "I appreciate the invitation."

"Please, call me Moore. I was going to make myself an amaretto and soda. May I offer you something?"

"Thank you. I'll have the same." She didn't really want a drink but thought it polite to accept.

Moore went to a lovely cabinet and opened it to reveal a well-equipped dry bar. Unlike the sleek modern outer offices, the furniture here was old wood, ornately carved, exotic looking. Everything in the room exuded wealth and quality, really. Even Moore's clothing had the look of custom tailoring to it. Perhaps that contributed to his aura.

He returned with two low glasses filled with a light brown beverage and a large ice cube floating in each. He handed one to her and, though there was a matching chair across the coffee table from her, he sat down next to her on the sofa. Nancy had a sudden sense of foreboding. She glanced at the closed door, at the gaps in the vertical blinds that shielded the office from view. The outer offices were dark now. They were alone.

Moore took a sip of his drink and gave a satisfied sigh. "I was an assistant producer on your show. Did you know that?"

"I'm sorry. I don't remember that."

"It was in the third season, after you left. I remember you, though. You were the best part of the show, in my opinion."

Nancy preened, despite her nervousness. "I hardly got any screen time... and no lines."

"True. But every time you walked into the scene and gave the captain your clipboard to sign... best part of the show."

"So you knew my husband, then, Alan?" She thought it best to remind him of her marital status, just in case he got too comfortable.

"Yes, a good guy." Moore quickly changed the subject. "You didn't work again for a long time after that."

"Well, I was busy raising four wonderful children. I also did summer stock with the community theater, of course."

"Yes, of course, I did see that. You did 'The Robber Bridegroom' with Larry Wilson. That must have been fun."

"It was a thrill to meet Larry."

"If you pull off this role, he'll be thrilled to meet you."

Nancy laughed excitedly.

"Then I see you did some commercials?"

Nancy blushed, embarrassed. "Well, yes. Alan helped with that, I have to admit."

"Is that what he's doing these days?"

"Yeah. Not as exciting as prime time but a lot less drama, you know?"

Moore toyed with the binders and industry magazines fanned out on the coffee table. He took a swallow from his glass and set it down on a coaster.

"This show, Nancy, is a big deal. And the mother-in-law role is going to be crucial to its success. I would be taking a big chance to entrust it to an unknown asset."

Breathlessly, Nancy blurted, "Mister Gold... Moore... I know I can do it. I really, really feel the part."

Moore nodded his head, still looking down on the table. "I think so too, Nancy. I just... I just want to make sure the part goes to someone who has... passion."

"I..." Nancy searched her mind for the words but something was derailing her train of thought. "...have passion."

Moore picked up a pair of binders and handed one of them to Nancy. "I'd like to read through a scene with you, if you don't mind."

Nancy looked at the cover page. It was the pilot episode of the show she was auditioning for and over the past few weeks she had pretty much committed it to memory. But when she looked inside she saw that the highlighted lines were not for the mother-in-law. They were for the male lead's mistress. Her misgivings were officially now a panic. Again she looked toward the closed door. Then she lowered her eyes and recited a verse of 'Antagonish' in her head.

"I'm ready. Mister Gold," she said, turning back to him with a wan smile.

They read through the scene, a flirtatious exchange between an emotionally unstable rock star and his manipulative on-again, off-again girlfriend. It was a sexually charged scene, replete with innuendos and insinuations. Moore Gold delivered his lines flatly, matter of factly. Nancy relied on ability to make her delivery believable. Every line felt like a step toward her execution.

"Mister Gold... I..."

"That's not right. The next line is 'Then I guess you'd better kiss me.'"

Nancy opened her mouth to form the words. Her mouth closed. She opened it again.

"Then... I guess you'd better kiss me."

And he did. She relied on her ability, made herself a machine, a conduit for a character, someone who wasn't her. As she responded to his hateful tongue in her mouth, as she permitted his horrid hands to push into her clothing, to clear her mind she recited to herself, "Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there..."

*****

Judith Wasser:

I was shocked when Nancy showed up on my doorstep, disheveled and looking all cried out. She asked if she could take a shower so I drew her a hot bath and got her undressed and into the tub. After a strong gin and tonic she was ready to talk about what happened. What she told me was even more shocking. I had unwittingly sent my client, my friend, into a lion's den with no warning or preparation.

"I mean, I knew he did that sort of thing. But with young ladies, not, uh, grown women. I swear, Nancy, I didn't even imagine."

"Apparently he was a fan," Nancy replied, her eyes closed and her arms resting on the rim of the tub as I poured more hot water over her chest.

"I feel just awful, Nancy. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me forever. But if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'll work the rest of my life to make it up to you."

"I don't blame you, Judith. I blame myself." Nancy stood up in the tub and let the water cascade down her statuesque figure while I draped a terrycloth robe over her shoulders. "If I had said 'No' I'm sure he would have stopped. But then I... I don't know..."

I interrupted as Nancy's voice trailed off. "You did what you had to do. If it's any consolation... it worked. The email came in while you were in the tub. A pretty strong offer if you're willing to consider it."

Nancy stepped out onto the mat and toweled the fringe of her hair that had gotten wet. "Foolish of me not to, considering what I did to get it."

"Let me take your undies out of the dryer so you can get dressed. Then come to the kitchen and we'll go over the contract together."

"Thanks, Judith. I really needed a friend. I couldn't go home right after."

"You come to me any time, dear. For what it's worth, you have it made at the studio now. You can appreciate that, right?"

Nancy regarded her reflection in the mirror. "It's something. Would hate to think I betrayed my husband for no damn reason."

I hugged her. Her body was warm from the bath. "It's not your fault, baby. It's not your fault."

*****

Nancy Aarons:

If her first encounter with Moore Gold wasn't her fault, she certainly bore some responsibility for the second. Of course he would be back and she didn't feel like she could refuse him. So she resolved to take charge of the situation. If she was to be used that way then it would be on her own terms. And maybe, just maybe, she might find a way to enjoy it.

The cast would be making a cross-country press tour. Moore asked her to join him at a spa in Palm Springs before the tour kicked off. It was easy to explain to her husband. They wanted her looking and feeling her best so they were giving her the star treatment. He acted sad to be apart but she knew he liked his alone time well enough.

As for Moore, she made some requests. She asked him to shave his private areas. She also gave him a bottle of her favorite body wash to use and asked him to lay off the cologne. This might have offended him but she decided not to worry about that. Her thought was that if he preferred younger women he probably liked them to be submissive and easily impressed. So she would be the opposite.

"You seem to have everything figured out," he observed as she elaborated her appetites over a preparatory glass of wine.

"Well," she replied in what she hoped was a callous tone, "If I'm going to cheat on Alan I might as well get my freak on."

He didn't react at all when she mentioned her husband's name. But it needed to be mentioned. She had to call attention to her marital status, had to name him, someone he knew, a former colleague. It made her sick to betray the good man who married her and raised a family with her. But she wanted Moore to think it was no big deal to her. Maybe she did this all the time.

She readied herself for this encounter like she was preparing for a role. For once in his life, Moore was going to make love to a mature, experienced woman, or at least someone who played one on TV. She practiced by watching dirty movies on the internet, rehearsing what she would say and do, shopping for strumpfhosen, watching herself in the mirror while she made love with her husband.

He was hesitant to go down on her. It didn't surprise her that he wouldn't like that. Or maybe he only didn't like it with her. Asshole. She made it clear it wasn't optional. He did himself proud, though, once he got started. Nancy tried not to think of her husband, tried to pretend to be someone else, someone who got off on being licked by a wealthy stranger in a luxurious hotel room. And having pretended, she succeeded.

Old Moore Gold somehow filled up three condoms that night and took her in a variety of ways. She gave an oscar-worthy performance every time -- clawing the sheets, moaning like a whore, rubbing herself all over. In between bouts she walked around in just her heels, her old lady breasts flopping around. She talked too much, laughed too loud, acted like she thought she was quite the thing.

When they finally went to sleep she clung to him though he crept farther and farther to his side of the bed. When they awoke she knelt between his legs and avidly sucked his penis and hairless balls until he came. She proudly showed him his deposit on her tongue before swallowing it. Then she crawled on top of him to share a wet, loving kiss, one that he didn't want but couldn't refuse. After that, he dressed quickly and left.

"Don't you want breakfast?" She asked him in a slightly ditzy voice.

"No thanks, busy day," he replied, not making eye contact. "Get whatever you want from room service."

Nancy didn't doubt he'd call on her again some day. But she imagined it would be quick and he wouldn't hang around for small talk afterward. After freshening up and making a phone call to Alan she decided to skip the mud bath and go back to bed. She felt dirty enough as it was.

'Was it worth it?' She asked herself. It didn't matter now, it was done. She was going to take what was due her and give back what she had to. Her fingers gingerly explored her poor battered vagina. 'Wow, three times!'

*****

Alan Aarons:

I was so happy for her when she got the job. She wasn't the leading lady but the role was meaty and gave her a real opportunity to show her dramatic chops. Of course, it kept her out of the house for long hours. Script meetings, rehearsals, night shoots... she had to go on a week-long press tour as well. I miss her when she's away but I wouldn't begrudge her this opportunity.

On the bright side, this gave me time for my hobbies, especially the one I told you about. I have to confess that after pasting her into three dozen centerfolds I got kind of bored with the project. So I did something unforgivable. I put her into pictures of women who weren't just showing off their bodies but were using them too, if you know what I mean.

It's crazy to look at a picture of my wife getting railed from behind or sucking a dick or doing both at the same time. I know it's not her. But I'm getting good enough at it that it is very hard to tell that the images are faked. And unlike nudes, the sexual images never get boring. There is so much material to work with... a million different situations to put her in. I even fake her into lesbian scenes, something she would never ever do.

I've tried adding her to videos but the results were less than spectacular. I could make it look true to life if I used the pro equipment at my work. But I didn't dare even try. Imagine getting caught. Imagine trying to explain why I'm fabricating videos of my wife having sex with guys, like hardcore porn sex. Imagine having to explain that to Nancy.

Oh well, the project won't go on forever. Soon enough it would be just her and me again. She'll have the memories of performing in a big television show and I'll have her and my secret pictures and videos too. I might even try talking her into posing for some pictures for real. But I doubt that would ever happen. Nan is far too modest for anything like that.