Cal couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was a helluva tease but was also really
great to look at.
“Actually, you look like you can take some serious pain.”
He had no idea what she meant by that. “Looks are deceiving, I guess.”
“You telling me it’s not painful to hoist all that weight on the bench press
machine?”
Apparently she’d seen him in the weight room. She was obviously observant or just
happened to notice him in there when she was walking by.
“I train here once in a while. Whenever I don’t go in to work. I was in there
earlier this morning.”
“I know.”
Cal tried to read her expression. It told him nothing.
“I saw you when I went by to check my mail.”
Cal nodded. Mystery solved.
She picked up her drink again and had another sip, then put it back down. “The
weight room’s on the way out to everything. You’re kind of hard to miss.”
He couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or insult. Some chicks didn’t like
muscular guys. Some said they preferred slenderness in a guy. Others said they liked it
because it made them feel safe.
He decided not to press the issue. This chick didn’t seem the type to mince words.
If she had something on her mind, he’d probably hear it shortly.
“I hope you saw me rather than heard me.”
“Spotted you in the window. Why?”
“I try not to make too much noise when I’m tossing the iron.”
“You mean you don’t grunt and groan like a horny elephant during mating season?”
“I try not to. . .”
“I don’t see how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Not tossing your cookies or shitting your drawers when you’re lifting all that
tonnage.”
That was a tacky way of putting it, but he realized he’d been right. This chick
said exactly what was on her mind.
“It helps if you don’t try to lift more than you’re capable of.”
“I saw you pushing up that entire weight stack. How can you lift more than that?”
“The stack holds three hundred. I stopped at two-eighty.”
She shrugged. “What’s twenty pounds?”
“After half an hour with the lat machine and leg press, twenty extra pounds
would’ve killed me.”
She raised her head and tilted it, watching him, then lay back down and adjusted
her hair over her shoulders. She’d probably just washed it. It glistened in the
sunlight. “You look like you can handle it.”
Yeah, she was definitely a tease.
“I guess I’m used to it by now.”
“You compete?”
“No way.”
She squinted behind the shades. “Why not? You look pretty good.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it. At least you’re not one of those guys who looks like a tank with a
golf ball sitting on his shoulders.”
“I do it to stay in shape and because it feels good. I’ll never compete.”
“Why not?”
Cal shrugged. “You can’t eat junk food.”
She smiled.
He liked her smile. She was definitely a babe he wouldn’t mind fucking. He’d seen
her once or twice before, out here by the pool, usually with two other females about the
same age. One was a tall slender brunette, the other a petite blonde. They usually sat
on the other side of the pool, facing the clubhouse, and only went into the water a few
minutes before they went back inside.
“Haven’t I seen you here with other girls?”
“Two of my buds come over once in a while. Tina and Renee. We graduated from UCF
two years ago. We also work together.”
“Where?”
“At the Florida Mall. We manage Hair Care. Actually, Tina and I manage the place.
Renee’s the one who’s really into hair. Tina and I also do hair, but we’re always stuck
in the back office more than out front. You have neat hair. For a guy.”
“I guess that’s a compliment. Thanks.”
“Most guys have really funky hair. They usually just cut it all off or wear it all
messed up. Then there are the guys with good hair who always cover their heads with
baseball caps, flattening it and making it all greasy. Makes most of ‘em look like real
dorks. I still haven’t figured out why you’d want to cut off all your hair--especially if
it’s good hair.”
Cal shrugged. “Less trouble. A lot of guys who work on cars don’t like getting it
covered with grease and oil.”
“That makes sense.” A warm breeze pushed some of her hair over one side of her
face. She pushed it back over her shoulder. “How come you never came over and talked to
us?”
“I usually keep to myself.”
She shrugged. “A quiet, good-looking guy with a great body who doesn’t hassle
anyone?”
“That’s me, I guess.” Cal spent the majority of his time in downtown Orlando
during the week and most of his evenings alone in his apartment. Since his divorce from
“Material Girl” Alyssa six months ago, he hadn’t bothered looking for anyone to date or
even spend time with. Several cute babes worked in the OSB offices, but they were
professional and business-minded, and preferred fraternizing with upper management.
Cal spent his weekends at flea markets and yard sales, buying CDs and all the old
LP records he could find. He’d been collecting old records for the last five years and
owned nearly a thousand.
He also attended antique car shows when he had a chance. He’d been looking for an
affordable ’65 Mustang but hadn’t yet found one.
He just didn’t spend enough time at the complex to get to know the other residents.
He knew the manager, of course, and the two guards. He knew his next-door neighbors only
by sight. When he bumped into someone in the weight room, he was usually focused on his
routine and never engaged in any serious conversation.
He didn’t feel guilty about keeping to himself. Nowadays, being too friendly could
get you in a lot of trouble. And since people rarely stayed in the same place very long
any more, it was almost impossible to establish any sort of lasting friendship.
She brought her left hand down and adjusted her glasses. He spotted a ring. It
didn’t look like a wedding band but clung to the appropriate finger. Bummer. “You’re from
Building L, yeah?”
She’d obviously seen him going into or coming out of his apartment as well as
training in the weight room. He was beginning to think she actually liked muscular guys.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you the guy who makes movies?”
He stiffened in his chair.
He hadn’t told anyone about his background. He’d been very careful not to mention
it--not even to his few friends at the office.
His college buddy Jack made adult flicks in his spare time. Cal sometimes helped
out when his friend was short-handed or in a rush.
Cal had no idea how this babe knew about this. He knew he shouldn’t be so uneasy
about it. People were much more open-minded about such things nowadays. Kink rarely
raised nearly as many brows as it once did.
And with the younger crowd, such a controversial topic usually served as a
sure-proof conversation starter. A lot of chicks--especially young ones--enjoyed adult
films. Some even readily volunteered their services to fulfill a fantasy and to tell
their friends. They also found it an instant turn-on to see the DVD advertised on adult
sites and in adult stores and also to buy copies of it when it came out.
But he was determined to find out how she’d learned about him.
“Well? Aren’t you?” she asked.
“Who told you that?”
She shrugged.
Not a very revealing answer. He’d have to find out another way.
“How long have you been making them?”
“I’m not the one who actually produces them.”
“But you’re involved, right?”
For the last year, he’d helped Jack out by working as the rigger on the set. Jack
studied filmmaking at college and found out several years ago that a boatload of money
could be earned by making adult movies. After some research, Jack learned that bondage
flicks were instant moneymakers. They were also relatively cheap to make. All you needed
was a motel room or warehouse, a couple of hot young babes, some clothesline and a big fat
roll of duct tape. If you wanted to get fancy, you could use chains and a few overhead
pulleys, as well as an assortment of whips and paddles. Hoods also came in handy and
looked good. All sorts of blindfolds added to the suspense and looked scorching on a
babe--especially when she was gagged.
Other than that, all you really needed were a couple of adventurous young babes who
didn’t mind getting naked, tied up, taped, stretched, slapped around, and fucked.
To make the situation even more fun, finding willing young women with good
bodies--especially in Florida--proved ridiculously easy.
Since Cal had done a brief stint in the Navy, Jack asked if he could put his
knotting skills to the test as a rigger. Cal’s job, in layman’s terms, was to tie the
women in as many tight, sexy positions as could be imagined and make the knots pretty,
symmetrical and effective.
Being a rigger was a truly enjoyable venture. The girls were being paid to act in
the movie. They were there to do what they were being paid to and didn’t care what you
did to them as long as you didn’t hurt them. They’d even used some babes who actually got
off on the pain--making the experience totally win-win for all involved.
Since Cal was an expert with knots, he knew which to use in any given situation,
how much pressure to apply, and where to apply it.
He’d originally scoffed at the idea but soon found how much fun it was. Jack paid
him two hundred bucks a film. The filming usually took a day or two. The rigging only
took a few hours.
They averaged eight flicks a month back then. They were usually shot during the
weekends, in Jack’s leased Industrial Park warehouse, with other scenes done in various
motel rooms and any apartment available at the time. This added activity didn’t interfere
with Cal’s primary job at all.
Cal quit scoffing after his first movie. Tying up beautiful naked women for money
quickly turned into a genuine mind-blowing experience.
“I’m sort of a prop guy,” he told the redheaded babe.
“Prop guy?”
Cal picked up his water and had a healthy sip. He didn’t know this chick and
didn’t have any idea how she’d react. She seemed all right, but you just couldn’t tell.
Even girls who looked like her and dressed like her could be prudes. Some reacted
strangely if you told them something they considered weird.
Cal could tell this babe wasn’t a prude, but he did suspect her motives. If she
already knew he was involved in movie-making, she probably also knew what kind of movies
they were. He didn’t care much for the way she’d deflected his question about how she
knew.
This left an even bigger question to be answered: If she already knew what he did,
why was she asking?
If she knew what sort of movies he made, she probably also knew all about them.
Maybe she was interested in bondage. Many young girls nowadays enjoyed various types of
kink. Maybe she practiced it herself and wanted to seek out others in this field.
Or maybe she wanted a part in Jack’s next movie.
In any event, he had to be careful. He’d been living here since his divorce and
liked the Winter Park area. Most of the residents were retired and usually kept to
themselves, making this a peaceful, quiet setting. The complex saw unusual excitement
only when the neighbors’ grandkids showed up for holiday visits and spent most of their
time creating havoc at the pool or on the tennis court. Or when one of the much older
residents suffered an episode requiring an ambulance visit.
Since Cal generally stuck to himself, he saw no reason to tell any of his neighbors
that he was involved in porn. He didn’t think it was necessary. For one thing, he only
did it part-time. And apart from Jack’s very first effort, Cal was involved only
indirectly.
“What sort of prop guy?” she asked.
“A part-time prop guy.”
“You have another job?”
“Actually, I’m a computer tech at Orlando Software.”
“And you make movies in your spare time?”
“A college buddy of mine makes them. Like I said, I just handle the props to help
him out.”
“You never said what kind of props.”
He shrugged. “You know. Props. Sets.”
“Like, moving things around? Lighting? That sort of thing?”
“You could say that.”
“What kind of movies?”
Cal began growing more and more uneasy. This was not the sort of babe you could
brush off. Most of the females he’d known could be maneuvered by changing the
subject--especially if the subject dealt with how good you thought they looked. Girls her
age were usually so ditzy and flighty that they couldn’t handle a deep discussion about
anything.
However, this one seemed more focused–and much more curious--than those he was
accustomed to.
“Actually, they’re adult films. . .“
“What kind?”
He began wondering how he could get her off this subject. She was as hot as they
came, but she sure was inquisitive. He wasn’t fond of the combination.
He shrugged. “Adult films. Porn. You know.”
She frowned beneath her shades. “No. I don’t. They’ve got so many now. They’ve
got straight fucking, gay, lesbian, gonzo, MILF, S&M, bondage, bi--“
“Why so interested?”
She smiled. “I like ‘em. The dirtier, the better. What kind do you do?”
The dirtier, the better. A girl after his own heart?
Or was she after something else?
He decided to stick with vague and see how this played out. If she was really
interested in kink, he’d know pretty quickly. Hopefully, he’d also know how to handle
this situation. He didn’t usually like one-night stands or simple pick-ups. But when the
babe looked like this one, a guy had to make certain exceptions.
“Like I said, I only do it part-time, and lately, my buddy’s been too busy to make
any. We haven’t done any during the last couple of months.”
“They’re bondage flicks, aren’t they?”
Cal started. He took a healthy swig from his bottle. He cursed himself for not
bringing something stronger. But that would be stupid, drinking beer or whiskey after a
heavy workout. And when you were sitting out in the hot sun, alcohol was the last thing
you needed.
But he knew he was going to have to tread lightly with this girl. She was being
entirely too inquisitive. And she had friends. He knew how girls talked. If she told
her friends, who knew where this would end?
“Where’d you hear that?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t.”
“Then how--“
She grinned. “I saw you.”
“Saw me?”
A nod.
“Where?”
“In a bondage flick.”
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