Caught in the Crossfire Ch. 07

"Washington? Which Washington, D.C.?"

"State."

Munch's curiosity just perked up a couple of notches. Retrieving a bottle and some glasses from a desk drawer, he poured each of them a couple of fingers of scotch. Taking a sip, he sat back in his chair, and asked, "Okay, now you have to tell me. What's in Washington?"

Looking thoughtfully at his glass of scotch, Jack didn't answer Munch's question directly, seemingly going off on some tangent, "Single malt, I haven't had this since I was kicked from Metro. I didn't know you had such class, Munch." Taking a sip of his drink, he continued, "It's funny how opportunities present themselves when you stick with something long enough. When all this started, I just thought I'd fuck this asshole's wife and get a few grand out of him in the bargain. As time went on, though, I did some more digging, and saw some things I overlooked. Pretty soon, I figured out how I could fuck the asshole over, but good. I mean, real good. Munch, if I play my cards right, there could be a significant payoff down the road."

"How big?"

"It all depends on the housing market. I figure anywhere between a quarter to half a million."

"Jesus fucking Christ!

"Well, a lot of that's going to Candy if this thing works out like I plan."

"You going to see a piece of that?"

"I should see a pretty fair slice."

"That's my boy, Jack. Now, what does Washington have to do with it?"

"There's an old forensics guy that worked for Metro who retired there. I recently discovered he has some particularly nasty fetishes involving very young girls."

Munch gave Jack a look of disgust, and asked, "Jesus Christ, how young?"

"With a good lawyer, 'ten to fifteen in a state penitentiary,' young. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. I need him. I'm also hoping he's still as possessive of his case files as he used to be." Jack paused to finish his scotch, then continued, "Okay, enough of that crap, why don't you tell me what happened tonight with Candy."

Munch poured them another round before answering, "I got to tell you, for a while there I thought she was going to be a three-ring, megaton, total cluster-fucking disaster. I did what you wanted, kept her out of the action at the start, letting Kimmy do her thing with the guys on her own. As you'd expect, she was nervous and edgy as she was waiting her turn. I'd talk to her during breaks in the action. You know, soothe her spirits, ease her nerves, and give her a little direction on how I want things to go down. Before I know it, she turns into this ball-busting, bitch hellion on skates, not listening to what I have to say. Then she goes off on this weird rant yelling, 'Cock this, and cock that..."

"Cock? She really yelled cock?"

"It's a long story. Anyway, next thing I know she's telling me what's what, just about telling me to stick my direction up my ass, right in front of the crew and everyone. Fuck, I almost told her to bag it, pack it, and keep walking right then and there."

Jack said, laughingly, "Yeah, well, other than screaming 'cock,' that sounds like Candy. There were more than a few times I wanted to forget the whole thing and kick her out the door."

Munch nodded his head vigorously in agreement, then continued, "All that changed when it was her turn at bat. I tell you Jack, I've been in this business for twenty years, and I've never seen anything like it. Not with first-timers, anyway. Hell, even hookers off the street are a little camera shy their first time, but not Candy. Kimmy even took it up a couple of notches working beside her. Well, you saw what they did to Mike at the end. A real stroker. I tell you Jack, she's got it."

"What do you mean? What's 'it?'"

"It's hard to explain. It's just everyone sees something different in her and they all want it, desire it. That's the 'it.' It's different for different people, but the result is always the same: total wood. She has that kind of effect on men. Like earlier with the guys. They couldn't get enough of her. I've worked with most of them before, and I can tell you most of them can hold their jizz. They can fuck hole after dripping hole without once shooting their loads too soon. Well, right off the bat, three of them cream all over her tits as she was going down on them. You know, blowing and stroking three at...

"I get it Munch," Jack quickly said, not wanting to hear the details. "I take it she passed the audition?"

Munch answered, rhetorically, "Could Mays play ball? The first audition, anyway." A sheepish grin creased his lips as he explained, "Usually with the newbies there's a second audition when they sign a contract." He paused for a moment to rub his sore shoulder. "I know she's kinda' your girl, and given your reaction earlier..."

Jack caught his drift, and felt that twinge of jealousy, again. He was going to tell Munch to fuck off, but didn't, deciding it wasn't his place. "That's up to her. If you can get her to smoke your pole, have at it."

Munch beamed a smile, while saying, "You're a good man, Jack. Now the question is, will she sign?"

There was a knock on the door, as Jack replied, "That's up to Candy."

"What's up to me?" Brittany asked as she entered Munch's office.

"Munch will tell you about it." Handing her the paper bag with the money, he adds, "This is for you. I've already taken my cut."

Brittany gasped before breathing a sigh of relief when she looked in the bag. She'd never seen that much cash at one time.

Jack smiled, amused by the look on her face. Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "I'll leave you two to talk over business."

"You're leaving me again?"

He kissed her forehead, again, now amused by her sudden look of terror, and responded, laughingly, "That's sweet of you to care. Don't worry, I'll be just outside the door. Oh, and remember, you asked me how you could make some money. Now's your chance."

When Jack closed the door, Munch asked Brittany, "Care for a drink?"

"Sure, a little."

Brittany's adrenalin and nerves were still redlining from the shoot. Sipping at her scotch took the edge off.

Munch sat back in his chair, and made his pitch, "You did good today, sweetheart. You have the makings of a real star."

"Yeah, a porn star."

Munch noted her sarcasm. "There are worse things, and the stigma of being one isn't what it used to be. I tell yah, I can really use a talent like yours."

"Who knew I had so much talent for sucking dick. Oh wait, I meant cock."

Munch noted her reference to their past argument. "You really are a pistol. It's a good attitude to have in front of the camera, and a real ball-busting downer behind one."

"Sorry. I get snippy when I'm tense. Could I have another drink?"

Munch liked it when they start hitting the sauce hard. It made negotiations easier. Pouring her an overly generous amount, he cut to the chase, "Are you going to let me use your talent?"

Brittany took a large gulp. Although the scotch burned on the way down, it ballooned up nice and warm in her chest.

She couldn't believe she was having this conversation, let alone, seriously considering going through with it, but she saw few options. "How much would I make?"

"I can tell you not ten grand a scene. This was a onetime deal. Jack told you that, right?"

"Yeah, you owed him favors."

"Just as long as you understand. Since you're new, you'll be starting out at base scale. The more scenes you do, the more you earn, and the dollars really add up if you do more exotic scenes rather than vanilla."

"Vanilla?"

"You with just one guy pounding your pussy. Two guys, and the fee just about doubles. Add a girl for a little lesbo action, still more, and so on. One of the real high dollar acts is what you did tonight." Munch paused for a second as if in thought, then continued using a tone of admiration, "I got to tell you, honey, usually it takes the girls a few weeks to work themselves up enough to do a gangbang, but you...oh man, you were smoke..."

Brittany cut him off, "Munch, I know you're just trying to pay me a compliment, but it isn't helping."

"Sorry, sweetheart. As I was saying, in the first year you should clear anywhere between 75 to 100 grand, depending on how much you work. If, and when, you make a name for yourself, and I have no doubt you will, you could take home 250 large. Get a contract with one of the big boy production companies, and sky's the limit. I can guarantee that if you manage your money right, you can retire after five years, living on easy street."

"Funny, I would think I'm too old for this."

"Ten years ago that would be true, but no longer. There will be an earning ceiling for you that the younger girls won't encounter, though, but porn is really opening up. It's really gone mainstream. There's so much variety on the Internet, and everyone's watching. Mommy and MILF vids are a particularly hot item, and those genres are right in your wheelhouse. Now with the Boomers retiring and Viagra, there's a big demand for older mature and granny vids. A big demographic, the Boomers, deep pockets with lots of excess cash. They'll be watching porn for years to come. Really, a girl could enter the business at eighteen, retire at sixty-five, and have constant work. What do you say?"

Her head was spinning from the scotch. Closing her eyes, she tried to think about everything Munch said, but she could only focus on two diametrically opposed thoughts. They rattled around in her brain like ball bearings in a tumbler:

The money sounds right.But it's goddamn porn! An awful lot of money for a couple hours work.It's fucking porn! But the money...Porn! But I need the...Porn! No! It's just sex, and women around the world do it every day for a lot less.

"I'll do it," she said with a certain degree of confidence.

Munch slaps his desk hard in celebration, and making Brittany jump. "That's my girl!" Taking some papers out of his desk, he walked over to Brittany and handed them to her. Munch continued talking as Brittany looked them over, "These are forms you'll need to sign before leaving tonight. The first is a release granting me property and trademark rights for any footage I shoot of you. It just says the video is mine, and mine alone, to do with as I wish. The second item is a standard contract. Mostly it lists the sex acts and what I'll pay you for performing them. Before the next shoot, we'll sit down, agree what you'll be doing, and then you'll sign it. In short, it's a price agreement for services, as well as providing me some legal protection."

Looking at the contract form, Brittany noted that Munch has already filled it out for a video titled, 'Horny Frat Mom Gangbang.' Below the title, and some legalese bullshit, are two columns of itemized sex acts and their dollar amounts. One of the acts, 'No-holes-barred gangbang,' is circled, and the standard five thousand dollar price for the act is crossed out, and replaced with a hand written ten thousand dollar amount.

Brittany continued reading the other items, saying them aloud, "Cum in mouth...facial...spit roasting. Spit roasting? What's that?"

"That's where one guys does you from behind and another guy is at your front," Munch answered.

"Oh. That makes sense," Brittany giggled, visualizing the situation. She continued reading, "Double penetration...Double..." She stops. Looking up at Munch, she asked with wide-eyed disbelief, "Double dick anal?"

"As you can see, that's a big ticket item. Almost as much as a gangbang. Had a girl who specialized in it too, but I lost her to another production company."

Brittany said, panicky, "I don't have to do all these things, do I?"

Taking the forms back, he answered with a chuckle, "No. You can do whatever you're comfortable with. We'll work out beforehand what you're going to do. However, the more exotic, the more money. Remember, you don't want to do vanilla all the time. There're plenty of girls right out of high school who can do that. We good?"

Brittany nodded her head.

"Good, first item down. Now, Candy, I need a last name to make the release and contract offer official, and please, I'm begging you, don't tell me it's Samples or O'Plenty, although you've got the tits for both."

Brittany was a tad disappointed. She liked the name, O'Plenty. It went along with her heritage. She tried running possible names through her head, but the scotch was definitely having an effect on clear thinking. Every name she came up with sounded idiotic to her. She even entertained a last name of 'Corn,' but only briefly. Frustrated with herself, she answered, "Why don't you choose one for me, Munch. You're better at this than me."

"Okay first, let's ditch the Candy for Candice. There are almost as many Candys as stiff dicks in the industry. You want to be unique. Besides, Candice is classier. For a last name, how about Mason, it's short, but strong, and easy for your potential fans to remember. How does that sound?"

"Candice Mason," she repeated to herself. "Fine, it's better than what I could come up with."

"Excellent. Now we touch on the last and most important item. Before I have you sign the forms, there's something I need you to do."

Noticing the sizable budge in his pants, Brittany guessed what that 'something' is, but hesitates.

Seeing the look of comprehension in her eyes, as well as the hesitation, Munch caresses her cheek while saying, soothingly, "It's just a onetime thing I require to seal our deal together. All my girls have to do it. You can tell me no, but I'll just rip up the contracts."

By now, it was an easy decision for her to make. She'd just been gangbanged by a platoon of circus freaks, why not blow a dwarf?

Reaching for his zipper, Munch took her by the arm, pulling her out of the chair. "Time for that later, right now there's something else I want to do. Ever since I saw it sticking straight up at me during the shoot, I can't get it out of my mind."

Bending her over the desk, Munch sits in the chair behind her. Then, with the dexterity of a concert pianist, his chubby fingers simultaneously flip her skirt onto her back and slide her panties to the floor.

Seconds later, Brittany feels her buttocks being spread, followed by a warm, wet tongue tickling her anus.

In between long, low moans, Brittany quietly said, "Just...my luck...another ass man."

********

While waiting for Brittany, Jack's thoughts centered on what he had seen earlier and what Munch had just told him, and getting hard in the process.

Jack had always been a total alpha dog, and hated sharing his women. He didn't do 'seconds,' as he put it to Brittany after their last meet.

Jack always made allowances for the married ones to go on fucking their husbands so that they could continue to keep up appearances; but once they reached this stage of the relationship, earning money by selling tail, Jack would begin backing away from them.

As for Brittany, once he set up the rendezvous between her and the two cousins, he felt their relationship had changed. Now that she would be earning, he saw his role exclusively as a full-time protector and manager—taking his cut, of course—but not as a lover.

However, she has something, something that moves him, causing him to desire her more than any other woman he's known. He can't put his finger on what it is, exactly, but it is making him rethink his personal code about 'seconds.'

He smiled to himself, remembering some of his first words to her. 'You're really not my type,' he had told her. In light of his present feelings, that idea had become absurd.

Munch said she had the 'It factor,' whatever that was; but yeah, she hadIt, and she certainly did it for Jack.

As he was contemplating Brittany's 'It factor,' Kim slid up alongside him. Giving him a friendly hip-bump, she asked, "Hey Jack, whatcha doing?"

"Hey...ah, Kim, waiting for Br...ah, Candy," Jack answered, wincing he almost let slip Brittany's real name, again.

Kim caught the slip, however, and said, laughingly. "Don't worry. We all use fakes. Sometimes I fuck up myself. I remember signing a check once with my stage name. That was embarrassing, especially since the guy recognized my name. Then again, I got a free DVD player out of it. Well, almost free. I gave him a blowjob rather than a check. Hey, how long have you known Candy?"

"A few months."

"How'd you two meet?"

Jack responded with slight irritation in his voice, "It's better I don't tell you."

"Oh, okay. I don't mean to pry. I'm just chit-chatting. I want to tell you I think Candy's a doll, an absolute doll. Everyone thinks so. All the guys went nuts over her."

"That's what Munch said."

"Say, when Candy gets done with Munch, you think the three of us can do something?"

Jack wondered where she was going with this. It was obvious she was 'beating around the bush' about something, and he hated obfuscation. "Kim, if you have something on your mind, just spit it out."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Munch is going to sign her on. You know, bring her into his stable: Munch Price's galaxy of porn stars. Anyway, it was pretty obvious to everyone on the set today that she's not that comfortable with girls."

Jack caught her drift. Lifting an eyebrow, he said with fake surprise, "Yeah?"

Kim stepped closer to him. Playing with his tie in a teasing manner, she responded, matter-of-factly, "Umm, hmm. The thing is she's going to have to go down on a girl sometime if she stays in the business. It's expected of us. So I was thinking we could all go back to my place and I could give her some quality, hands-on training."

Just then, Brittany comes stumbling out of Munch's office with her hair having that, 'just fucked hard' look. Readjusting her skirt, bra, and blouse, she muttered, "Horny little fuck."

Storming up to Jack, she slapped him full across the cheek as hard as she could, and yells, "You deserved that! You and your fucking favors!"

While laughing and clapping, uproariously, Kim yells, "Yeah! Pixie Dominatrix, I think I love you!"

Jack rubbed his cheek, and smelling liquor on her breath, asked, "Are you drunk?"

"Not nearly enough!"

Jack tried not to laugh. "I take it you didn't sign."

Storming away for him in the direction of the warehouse exit, she answered loudly, "I have another shoot on Monday. And I have to get something called a 'Hollywood' before then."

Kim shouts, stopping Brittany in her tracks, "It's a full bikini wax that includes the...ah...well, you know...the area around the backdoor."

Brittany stared at her for a moment, mouth agape. "That's just great! I guess I'm supposed to get a tongue stud next!" Turning away, she stormed toward the exit for a few steps before shouting over her shoulder, "Well come on! I need another fucking drink!"