Married to Porn Pt. 03

"Why."

"We are LAPD homicide division."

"Uh oh." Damon says under his breath.

"Homicide? What could you possibly want with my husband?" Diane asked.

"How about you ask him AFTER we have our chat?" Barbosa said abruptly.

"The hospital has been kind enough to loan us a spare room to talk, unless you'd like to go down to the station." Hernandez assured him.

"Do I need counsel?" Damon asked.

"If you lawyer up, we may just charge you right here and now." Barbosa told him in no uncertain terms.

"Mr. Hartsfield. If you'd like to consult with an attorney that is of course your right. But for now at least, we are viewing you as a possible witness only."

"Baby? What is he talking about? What did you witness?"

"Diane, I promise I'll tell you all about it. But let me sort this out with these two detectives."

"Come on "Master D" time is money, right?" Barbosa quipped. Damon wasn't sure if this was simply "good cop/bad cop" or did this asshole have something personal against him?

After the three had walked away, and went into the makeshift "interrogation room", the three sat around a round table and Hernandez started to lay out the reason for their visit.

But first...

"First I want to say on behalf of LAPD, we are very sorry for your loss. I knew Mr. Cazale and despite my not being in agreement with the way he made a living, he really was a fine man." Hernandez said.

"Yeah, a real pillar of the community. Tell us "Damon" what do you know about Tony Fishtank's death and who popped him?" Barbosa demanded.

"Tony Fishtank? What makes you think that I..."

"You gave the phone that you called 9-11 on to a homeless man. We tracked it right to him and get this...he said, "It was the damndest thing...Master D gave me his cell phone." Barbosa chuckled. "Who the fuck knew that they could get porn on skid row?"

"You were there Mr.Hartsfield. That much we can prove. If you didn't pull the trigger, now would be a good time to come clean and...excuse me." Hernandez said as he proceeded to answer

an incoming call.

"Detective Hernandez here."

........

"Really? Well, that was fast."

...........

"I know...I know....21st century ingenuity."

...........

"Perfect match you say?" Hernandez asked as he leered intently at an already highly agitated Damon.

..........

"Well thanks...I'll be in touch."

...........

After Hernandez clicked off, he whispered something to his partner who broke out in a huge, satisfied smile as he listened.

"Mr. Hartsfield, our records go back around 25 years and while we haven't cross referenced it with state or federal databases, we can now place you at the scene with 86% accuracy."

"What do you mean by that?" Damon asked.

"Your DNA was at the scene." Barbosa explained.

"My DNA? How do you know that it was mine? Wouldn't you need a sample from me?"

"You're a scum bag porn star. Your "DNA" is all over Southern California." Barbosa quipped. "We can swab the twats of half the women in the valley and get a sample of your building blocks."

"Would you like to actually talk to us now?" Hernandez asked.

Damon sighed deeply. Either way he was fucked. Either he kept quiet and got a murder rap pinned on him, or he talked and possibly faced the wrath of the LA mafia.

"I was there ok. But only after the fact. Fishtank was already dead when I walked inside."

"And you went there why?"

"He's a bookie and I have a gambling problem. I had placed a bet and won 30k that I went to collect on."

"That gives you motive. He welshed on the 30 large and you popped him one." Barbosa explained.

"I've never fired a gun in my life. Fishtank never fails to pay off a bet. That's why he takes so much pleasure in torturing the poor soul who can't pay when he loses a bet."

He was linked to at least one homicide in recent days. Some failed Hollywood writer. You're lucky to still be alive after dealing with such a monster."

"Maybe...but I still don't see how my DNA...mother of God!"

"What? What is it?"

"I...I need to check into something. Am I under arrest? Am I free to go?"

"Currently no. You're not under arrest. But do yourself a favor. Don't leave town."Hernandez cautioned.

"In other words genius; yeah, you're free to go. For now." Barbosa told Damon, who with no need to be told twice, quickly bolted from the room as the two detectives compared notes.

"Noway Hartsfield whacked Fishtank." Barbosa admitted.

"I agree...although...it would appear that he at least thinks he knows who might have done so."

"Pure fucking genius the way you faked that DNA test thing. The look on his face when you said..."

"I didn't fake it. We really do have his DNA in our database. In order to get a lic to work in adult films in California, you're required to give a DNA sample. His really did match blood found at the crime scene."

"But to get it back so quick? That's a hell of a turnaround time."

"It's dirty test"; it wouldn't hold up in court but it keeps us from chasing our tails while we wait on official results to show."

"I was a beat cop in NYC for five years before moving out here. A single shot behind the ear? Only the mob kills like that. Fishtank was executed by some fat fuck in a jogging suit."

"Or someone wanting us to think it."

"So what do we do about "Master D?"

"We will keep tabs on him. See what his "sleuthing" turns up. In the meantime, let's rattle a few mafia trees."

Five minutes earlier...out in the hallway.

"What the hell do the 187 boys want with Damon?" Devonte' asked Diane.

"187 boys?"

"LA Penal code for homicide. I'm talking about the detectives."

Diane nearly fell but Devonte' caught her.

"Easy sis. Easy. Here...have a seat right here." He says as he directs her to a chair right next to a couple of vending machines.

"To be honest with you Devonte', I haven't processed quite that far. I'm still stuck between just finding out that I'm married to my half brother, to my mentor in the porn industry passing away right in front of me.

My husband currently being questioned by homicide detectives is currently number three on my list of things to completely freak out about.

I'll get to it in a second."

"Is there anything we can do?" Dionne asked her sister.

"In all of this...I have been ignoring the fact that this has affected you two as well. How are you two holding up?"

Dionne blushed and took Devonte' by the hand. Well, you can't help who you're related to, and you damn sure can't help who you fall in love with."

"So...the two of you?" She asked.

"Yes...the two of us." Devonte' said as he smiled at his lover.

"If this info gets out, it will destroy us all." Diane cautioned.

"Have you made your mind up then? You're not going to tell Damon the truth?"

Diane stared at the ceiling briefly. She next rested her forehead in her left palm. She reached into her purse with her free hand and handed two zip locks to Dionne.

"What's this?" Dionne asked.

"One of these has Damon Jr's DNA in it, and I want it tested against the stuff in the other zip lock."

"And the DNA in the other zip lock belongs to...?

"It belongs to someone whom i'm not ready to name right now. For now though, I'll be satisfied with not having fathered children with Jack Martin if that's what the findings show."

"You're in luck sis. It's official....Jack Martin is NOT the father." Dionne declared happily as she read an incoming text from her phone.

"Oh thank Christ! Talk about a nightmare scenario."

"I agree. Who'd want that ball busting prick as a baby daddy to their kids?" Dionne said as she recounted her sexual and post sex experiences with Jack Martin.

Just then, Cassandra "Tracee Fountains" Banks interrupted the meeting with news from the hallway.

"Diane?"

"Yes? What's going on Cassandra?"

"They are about to transport Caz's body down to the morgue. The hospital chaplain wanted to say the Lord's Prayer while we all join hands."

"A bunch of porn stars joined together and reciting the Lord's Prayer has got to be as funny or ironic as the meme of the strippers all holding hands and praying before they go out on stage and slid down the pole naked." Diane remarked. "Ok, I'll be right there Cass."

After Cassandra/Tracee had gone, Diane turned back to her siblings. "Take care of that for me. Try to find a different clinic if you can though. I don't want to give extra ammo to the blackmailers."

"Got you covered sis." Devonte' assured her.

"Good. And now

that this is being handled; I'm free to lose my shit over my husband being questioned by the police for possibly witnessing a murder."

Chapter 10 ten years ago

This place hotel by The Jacksons

Live in sin

Ten years ago on this day

My heart was yearning

I promised I would never ever be returning

When my baby broke my heart and left me yearning

As we walked into the room

There were faces staring

Glaring, tearing through me

Someone said welcome to your doom

Then they smiled with eyes

That looked as if they knew me

This is scaring me

We walked up the stairs

Still concealing gloom

There were two girls

(Sitting in my room)

She walked up to my face

Said this is the place

You said meet you right here at noon

This is Heartbreak Hotel

Welcome to Heartbreak Hotel

So this is Heartbreak Hotel

This place is Heartbreak Hotel

The Beverly Hills mansion of Salvatore Cazale.

"Meester Cazale?"

"Yes Blanca?"

"A Diane Hartsfield is here to see you."

"Right on time as usual." Caz smiles as he takes a sip of scotch and sits the glass back down onto the marble coffee table. "Bring her in here Blanca." He instructed his domestic.

As Diane walked into the enormous residence, several sights caught her attention. Out of one window she could see the horse stables where three African American men attended the prized race and show horses on property.

She could see into the kitchen, where an Asian man prepared dinner while a man of possible French descent created what would later be dessert.

A tall, uniformed Englishman, stood at the butler's pantry and prepared cocktails, while five or six naked blondes frolicked playfully outside in the giant-sized pool.

Salvatore Cazale had made several fortunes using the pussies and cocks of her and her peers; not excluding her own husband and he basted in the glow of that opulence.

And what of Damon? Why did he so easily buy her story of going to the spa for a massage and facial? Why didn't he question her? Why didn't he tell her to stay home today with him?

She had just shot her first six man gangbang; one would think that a husband would want to spend as much time with his wife as possible after witnessing her endure something of that magnitude.

Giant white cocks in her ass and pussy; her face plastered with jizz...

And her husband at the dog track today with the ring leader of the six.

Jack "Richard Dick Biggs" Martin.

She would've never dreamed that her former lover, and currently main costar and her husband would become tighter than Dick's hatband.

Damon is such an anomaly. Tall, handsome, powerfully built, a dick as thick as a coke can and as long as a metric ruler.

Did he even belong in this industry? With the shape that he's in, the pretty boy good looks, and his natural acting abilities he'd make a great action movie star.

Will Smith went from corny rapper to A-list box office dominance in a relatively short period of time. Why couldn't her husband do likewise?

"Because he does porn you idiot." She said silently, admonishing herself.

One doesn't make the leap from "this to that".

"Just look at you!" Caz gushed as she entered his private domain." Just the way I wanted to see you."

Diana had "dressed" for the occasion as a very sexy airline stewardess. The short baby blue skirt, the tight white blouse that buttoned just above her navel and the thigh high black boots were all props that she had borrowed from the studio.

But it was also the same outfit that she had worn, howbeit briefly in "The Mile High Black", where she gave "special attention" to the first class passengers as the "plane" cruised at 30,000 feet.

Sometimes Caz would tell her what costume to arrive in, and sometimes he'd tell her, "Surprise me baby."

Today was one where he specifically told her to wear this outfit. He had been on set for the shoot and by his own admission it had been the "Hottest fuck scene he had ever witnessed up to that point."

She didn't used to feel guilty about this. Afterall, many women fuck the boss in order to climb the corporate ladder. But now at least, she was married. Her husband of one year understood the nature of the business they were in.

And as long as they were apart of it; fucking others or getting fucked by them came with the territory.

But this... wasn't that. This felt very much like adultery.

Just as it did each time she snuck off to Caz's place since the day she said "I Do" to an unsuspecting Damon.

"Mr. Cazale? Can we talk for a second?" She asked as he took hold to her hand and lowered her beside him to the floor where he lay on a plush oriental rug.

"What's on your mind Vivian? And please....call me Caz. How many times must I say it?" He told her as he addressed her by her stage name.

If he didn't personally sign her paycheck every week, she wondered if he'd even know her real name.

"Caz...this has to be the last time." She said as she shucked off the skirt and unbuttoned the blouse all the way. "I want to take my marriage vows seriously."

"I do...understand." Caz says as he freed himself from his own clothing which revealed a very rigid and ready member. "I don't like it. But I understand."

"But also Caz", she said right before she began to deep throat him, "You can't cum inside of me. I Stopped the pills because Damon and I are trying for a baby."

"Well don't you worry that pretty little head about that." Caz assured her as her head slowly bobbed up and down on his cock. "I had a vasectomy a few years ago. While I might shoot straight, I'm only loaded with blanks."

Caz had the entire porn industry at his disposal. Beautiful, single women of all races who would sell their souls for the chance to relieve his billionaire cock of all stress.

What was it about this black girl from Compton Ca named Diane McGrady Hartsfield that kept his attention to such an extent almost bordering on obsession?

"Who gave a fuck?" He said to himself as he laid her onto her back and guided his white cock into her tight ebony sex box while her legs rested on his shoulders.

The truth was that Diane "Vivian Starr" Hartsfield was far more than just some "hood chick" from the wrong side of the tracks. Diane was arguably one of the most gorgeous women in the industry. A modern-day Desiree West who could give Beyonce a run for her money in a beauty contest.

Her and Damon...with those genes? They would reproduce some beautiful children.

After he had deposited his own seed into Damon's wife one last time of course.

"Fuck me Caz...Fuck me!" Diane said to her boss as he continued to stroke her from the missionary position on the unrelenting floor.

She ran her hands through the curly thick locks on his head as he kissed her deeply.

She returned the kiss as she came forcibly on his cock. The kiss scared her. She knew better. For her, kissing was more of a betrayal than fucking was. But what was she going to do? Tell her boss, "No kissing"?

A few months after she had gotten into porn, her mind and emotions were all over the place. Everyone she performed with seemed to be "imprinting" or leaving his mark on her heart.

She sought the advice of an expert. She journeyed back to Rosecrans Ave in Compton where she met up with a prostitute whom she had known very well from the neighborhood, Pearl "Mini P" Waters.

"Gurl...I almost answered one of those "modeling" ads onetime before I started hustling out here." The somewhat diminutive light skinned 4ft 11, 34b-24-38, street walker said to Diane. "Theres no telling where I'd be had I became a famous porn star."

"I could talk to the studio head if you..." Diane started to say but Mini P waved her off.

"Thanks so much, but we all have our parts to play in this deterministic thing called life. Diane, I'm a hoe, that's what I was meant to be.

I'm supposed to walk up and down this Avenue in hot pants and heels giving married men what they can't seem to get at home." She chuckled, "if some of these uptight housewives would listen to me for ten minutes, I'd transform their loveless unions into marriages to be envied by all. Do you know what I'd tell them?"

"What would you tell them?"

"I'd be like..."Bitch...suck some dick, ask him how his day went, stop nagging him about every little thing he does, wear the damn nurses costume in bed. Cook him a nice meal. Yes, he wants to fuck your best friend, so give him that threesome for his birthday. Give him some anal every now and then".

They could pay me those thousands of dollars that they willingly give to their therapists and marriage counselors week end and week out."

"That's why I'm here Ms. Pearl. I need some of that advice."

The middle aged sex worker heard Diane's issue without interrupting and then gave her the advice she needed.

"So, how do I fuck all of these men on a regular basis out here and avoid catching feelings?"

"Yes. That's what I'm struggling with."

"It's simple. No kissing. Keep your tongue in your mouth."

"Wait...that's it? Just don't kiss?"

"Unless you are really digging the guy and it's more than just business? The no, don't kiss."

"When she first met Damon at his "audition"; it was her job to give him his tryout. She had initially told him, "Don't cum in me and don't kiss me." The latter of the two she had heard from Mini P months ago.

After the tryout commenced, she found herself somewhat smitten by the shy, inexperienced and handsome 18-year-old, and gave into her urge to stick her tongue into his mouth while he fucked her in front of both Caz and Wally Wally.

A few moments later she whispered into Damon's ear alerting him to the fact that she also wanted him to cum inside of her.

She needed this to happen quickly before the next forbidden thing that she gave him would be her ATM pin number.

And now here she was with Salvatore Cazavle and reliving an emotional sexual experience all over again.

It wasn't like she wasn't at all attracted to the swarthy Italian lothario. He greatly resembled her favorite thespian, Richard Gere during the actor's salad days.

This was one for the ages...her she was, cheating on her younger and more youthful husband with a much older man. Any moment now, Rod Serling was going to cut in with a voice over.

"I love your tight dark twat." Caz whispered to her as he continued to fuck his most coveted starlet. "I love burying my cock inside of you."

"I...I...need to get home Caz...I need to get home to my husband." She advised as she clamped down on his dick with some of the strongest vaginal muscles in the industry and started to furiously work her pelvis in an effort to hasten him to a final climax.

Her efforts worked splendidly as his entire body tensed up while he howled loudly and emptied his seed into her vulnerable and unprotected pussy.

After the shockwaves subsided in both, Caz extracted himself from Diane and turned over onto his back right beside her.

"You know...not for nothing Vivian, you have got to be the greatest piece of ass this side of eternity. You made that dick of mine hurt when it finally released."

"I've really got to go Caz. Damon may be waiting for me at home." Diane said as she rose up, still wearing the black boots and nothing else and bolted toward the nearest bathroom.