Chapter 1

 

I settled back to watch the taped interview. The subject was a woman that appeared to be somewhere in the neighborhood of mid-twenties. I knew she was older than that. She was sitting alone on a chair showing a lot of leg. She was wearing a short black skirt with a white frilly blouse. She seemed to be at ease being on camera. Even sitting she appeared to be a small compact woman. The interviewer, a man, was off-camera.

The interviewer started by asking her some friendly questions about the weather, if her trip was pleasant and the like. She responded in a well-modulated voice that she was enjoying the warm weather and that she had a pleasant trip. The rest of the interview went like this:

Q: What is your name?

A: Debbie Gant (Debbie was true, Gant wasn't unless she has changed it recently)

Q: How old are you?

A: Twenty-five (Wrong! By over five years, but she could get by with the lie)

Q: Is this your first trip to LA?

A: No, I came here with my ex-husband several years ago. (Yes, that was true. Three years ago to be exact)

Q: May I call you Debbie?

A: Certainly

Q: Thank you. You are an actress?"

A: Yes

Q: To be specific you are an actress in adult films aren't you?

A: Yes

Q: How many films have you been in?

A: I think it's ten now (Actually it was twelve, but maybe she wasn't counting the first two.)

Q: You specialize in something. Can you tell us what it is?"

A: I mainly do films where I am the only female. All the other actors are black men. I specialize in double and triple penetration. In some of the films I have been the object of an all-black gang-bang. One woman and five or more hot virile black studs.

Q: Do you enjoy your work?

A: I do. I really love my work and the pay is great. I have met a lot of wonderful and interesting people. (I don't know about wonderful, but I'm sure she found them very interesting.)

Q: We hear about people, women especially, in the adult entertainment industry that claim it is all business. Some have stated they don't care for sex at all. So let me get right down to it, Debbie. Do you like sex?

A: I do. I love sex. I love every kind of sex. (I suppose I'd have to say that's true. It wasn't always that way, but she changed and I suppose I'm the cause)

I paused the player, stopping the phony interview. I knew it was nothing but a promotional gimmick anyway. Phony, but damn, she looked good. As good as I ever saw her. Even better than when she was actually twenty-five. I should know because I'm her husband. Ex-husband, I should say.

In the interest of accuracy I need to back up and start again. As in most cases there is more than just one side to the story and I've endeavored to tell at least two sides.

 

Joe's story:

 

I suppose I'm like a lot of married men. I wanted my wife to be a slut. I also wanted her not to be a slut. I know that is confusing, it is to me, too. I want my wife to be a total slut and to fuck anybody anytime I say. On the other hand I want her to be a chaste wife and good mother to our children when we have them. I'm bewildered, but not stupid, so I know it can't be both ways. It's just that I can't make up my mind on which side of the issue I want to come down on. My name is Joe Hawkins.

My wife, Debbie, is twenty-five years old and one hell of a looker. It's not just me that thinks that either. Deb is a petite woman only five feet-two, but boy is she stacked! Thirty-eight D's on top and a nice tight ass. Her hair is such a deep red that it is only red in bright sunlight. She normally wears her hair about shoulder length. Deb worked as a fashion designer for a large company until the last merger put her out of work. She has spent much of the last month having interviews and putting in her application at various places.

Normally Debbie is a sexual dynamo and ready for sex anytime. She's adventurous, skilled, and she'll try anything at least once. The unemployment situation had put a major crimp in our sex life. It seemed she didn't have the old drive or her normal spark.

We weren't hurting for money because, for the most part, we have lived a frugal life. Deb insisted we save most of her paycheck so we had a nice financial cushion. I make good money as the assistant vice president of a consulting company. The big problem was Deb was used to working, she wanted to work, and she was frustrated that she was unemployed.

One of my company's clients is a boat manufacture with plant and headquarters out in the suburbs. The president of the company is a man by the name of Moses Moss. He prefers to be called Mo or Mo-Moss like it was one word. Mo is about fifty or so and a large man. He played professional football for a few years. Mo and I hit it off because we both are ex-jocks. I played round ball and ran track in college.

On that fateful day I was on my way to Mo's office when I happened to see a notice on their bulletin board. The company was looking for beautiful ladies to help show off their boats at the upcoming fall boat show. I immediately thought of Debbie because she looks damned good in a bikini. I doubted she would do it because she is a little bit shy.

"Hey Joe!" Mo boomed at me. "Come on in my office, man. How they hangin'?" I assured Mo that they were hanging fine. Frankly I've never been sure how to answer that question and he always asks it. "I got your recommendations and I've had my staff looking over them. So far they look good."

"That's what I'm doing here," I said. "I'm here to answer any questions you might have. Hey Mo, before we get into that, can I ask you about the boat show you got coming up?"

"Sure. What about it?"

"I saw that you were looking for women to help show off the boats. How's that going?"

"Good God Almighty Joe!" he said with his booming laugh. "There ain't any shortage of women who want those jobs. You know somebody who is interested?" I told him about Debbie and he gave me a long serious look. "Joe, there are two basic requirements for the gig. One, they have to look hot in a bikini and two, they have to look hot in a bikini. They need a couple of arms to point at the fuckin' boats and legs to walk around the boats, but most important they have to look hot in a bikini." I showed him a photograph I carried of Deb at the beach. She would be mad if she knew I showed it to anyone.

"Okay, she looks hot in a bikini," Mo said after looking at the photo for a long time. "You sure you want your wife being ogled by a bunch of horny men?"

"Sure, why not? Lookin' don't hurt anything, does it?"

"No, but some men can't handle that very well. You sure she would want to be ogled?" I told him I wasn't at all sure she would be interested. "I need to make a decision by next week. Ask her and let me know. I'll leave her a slot until next Friday."

Deb wasn't overly thrilled with the job offer. I brought it up, as we got ready for bed. Deb had another miserable day beating the bushes.

"How much does it pay?" she asked after turning it down flat.

"A hundred bucks for four hours work. Mo has filled the day shift position. You work from eight PM to midnight. The boat show is Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Twenty-five bucks an hour with no chance for advancement or promotion. You furnish your own bikini and high heels."

"So this is just a T and A thing?" Deb asked.

"Yeah, that's exactly what it is. Tits and ass make the world go around. Show as much skin as the law allows and make it look like owning a speedboat is a lot of fun. Your message is, 'hey, buy this boat and you'll attract girls like me.' Something like that I guess. Easy money anyway you look at it."

"It's not all profit, you know?" Deb said.

"What do you mean? What's your overhead? I'll give you a ride and pick you up after the show. You own a nice suit."

"Bikini wax, Joe," she said as if I should have known that. "My old bikini has to be replaced. There's a third of the money gone right there. And no, you wouldn't be transporting me to and from. I'm a big girl and I can go on my own."

"Are you actually considering doing it?" I asked, not believing my ears

"I'll talk to Mister Moss tomorrow and then make up my mind," she said, ending the conversation.