Portmanteau: Gone Hollywood

"I have to be on the set in a few hours," Jackson replied.

"And I have to be at the register of your grocery store in a few hours," she said with a laugh.

"Don't tell the others you'll be banging the boss later tonight. I don't want HR calling me tomorrow."

"Will I? Okay then, I better get home and ready for a long night of sexual harassment."

"I'm borrowing Ewen McGreggor's motorcycle to ride us back to L.A. You up for some dirt in your teeth?"

Two hours later, the helmeted duo cruised down the 10 Freeway on a BMW R1150 motorcycle en route to their everyday lives; his as a movie star and hers as the grocery checker whose face would be on the cover of every magazine in the checkout line.

____________________________________________

Hours later, Jackson sat on a sound stage at the studio back lot in his, rehearsing a tunnel breach with Curt Jeske.

Gretchen approached with several Hermes bags.

"You just got a delivery from the Riviera in Palm Springs. A bunch of Hermes dresses. Are you thinking of a fresh look for the fall?"

"They are for Cinderella," he said with a smile.

"Get the fuck out. That woman you were photographed with last night?"

"Yeah." He said with a smile.

"Who is she? What show is she on? I want to IMDB her."

"She's not an actress?" Jackson added in.

"Does she work with the studio?"

"She's not in the business. She's a checker at the grocery store I own."

"You had obsessive dreams about a grocery store worker?"

"Yes, I did," he replied.

"So, is she nice? Wait, you own a grocery store?"

"She is, and I do, and thank you for asking. Most people would want to know if she's good in bed or after my fame."

Gretchen noticed Hailee walking across the set in their direction.

"I'm glad you found Cinderella, but don't forget, there's an evil stepmother for every Cinderella out there. By the way, your agent is here."

Hailee barged into the area, "That's right, you little rascal," she said, locking eyes with Gretchen. "Be sure to give me your Dad's address so I can fuck him, marry your mom and kill your family dynamic...and then become your evil stepmother. Now run along. Future step-mommy needs to talk to Prince Charming."

"So gross, so inappropriate," Gretchen muttered as she left.

Jeske greedily eyed the sexy agent.

"Hey, sailor, thank you for your service, but this ship does not take on any seamen. So, fuck off."

"Sorry Jeske, she's not herself in daylight.

"Not an issue, boss. I'll be right over here if you need me to kill her," he offered in jest.

"Why do I ever leave my office and come to the Valley? Enough about that, so I came here because I got a call today from a gentleman named Gunner Becker. He's a fashion photographer. Your mystery girl did some photo shoots for this guy 20 years ago."

"Nudes?" Jackson asked.

"Nudes? Everyone has nudes these days. Nudes are nothing. You want a nude of Dame Judy Dench? I can get you one. No, these were more than nudes. Let's just say there is a Hub for this material, and Gunner claims he will sell them but thought you might like them for your private collection."

"This fucker is blackmailing a grocery store checker?" Josh said in disbelief.

"Well, no. He's blackmailing you. Is she a grocery store checker? Really? He's betting you don't want anyone seeing your girlfriend licking some tall blond chick's asshole. Although, I do."

"How do we know it's her? I mean, this was 20 years ago," Jackson asked.

"Well, let's see. He sent me the ass-licking photo. She looks like your girl, but the photo is old. Hair is different. She looks fit, awesome tits. They real? Oh, she has a really big clit. Damn, I would like to play with that. Just slap it around for a while like a misbehaving soldier. Tell me, was that thing fun? Just lie to me if it wasn't."

"Jesus, as if Hollywood didn't beat this girl up enough. What are our choices?" Jackson asked.

"We can pay him, get the copyright. Don't pay him, he sells the pics to the top bidder, and she's internet famous for a week. Or you could ghost her. Don't call her back. He'll publish the photos, but we deny you knew her. Just some big clit girl at a restaurant."

"How much does he want?"

"A million, and frankly, if we agree, expect it to be two million, maybe more."

Hailee turned to leave.

"You need to move on this fast, Jackson," she said, "things are happening at the studio level, and this German cocksucker will fuck things up on the Superman side. Talk to your grocery gal and tell her to clean up her aisle."

As Hailee left, Jeske sat down next to Jackson.

"You catch all that?" Jackson asked.

"This guy is a terrorist," Jeske replied.

"I know I've got you and the boys busy with Donnett," Jackson started, "but this girl is special, and this guy, he's a piece of-"

Jeske interrupted him before he could go on. "What have I told you about plausible deniability?"

____________________________________________

Lisa entered the house to find Jackson sitting on his deck, looking at the lights below. Upon hearing her enter, he met her with a deep embrace and kissed her deeply.

Joining him on the deck, Jackson decided to take the direct approach.

"Do you know a man named Gunner Becker?"

Lisa didn't flinch. Not even a look of surprise.

"I'm going assume he resurfaced from the bottom of the barrel."

"He's going after you through me. I assume you know about the content he has."

"I arrived in Los Angeles 20 years ago and tried to make a go of it as an actress; that was tough. I got work as a fitness model. Gunner was one of the photographers I worked with. He was charming and convincing, and I fell for him. He had a girlfriend, Mayla. She was great. Gunner decided we should do some erotic art.

She walked to the edge of the deck, staring off into the distance.

"He had me and Mayla do some intense stuff. He was obsessive. He obsessed over Malya's nipples, and he obsessed over my clitoris. He took photos, shot video, and even brought in some friends."

"What happened to all that?" Jackson asked.

"I stopped dealing with him, but he would resurface now and again, demanding I come back and pose some more. He would send pictures of me to my jobs and tell people I was a porn actress to keep me unemployed and needing him."

She looked at Jackson, holding back tears.

"I got into climbing to work out my issues. Finally, he lost interest in me until Mayla got the nerve to leave him a few years ago. She moved to Boston. That left him alone, angry, and needing something to obsess about. Now he's back."

"He has a price. I'm willing to pay it," Jackson added.

"No, he doesn't have a price, Lisa stated. "He wants access to you. You pay, and he'll still be there. This isn't fair; you don't need this in your life."

Jackson's cell phone dinged as text arrived. He ignored it.

"I need you in my life," Jackson said.

"Why? Why me? Because you had some wet dreams?" she asked.

"Because you don't care who I am," he replied. "Look, this is about us and will remain about us. Let me pay him. I'll get my lawyers on it. He'll sign an NDA. We can do this."

The phone rang again. It was Cecelina Lyon calling.

"Let me take this; then we'll get some dinner and make this happen."

Lisa nodded sadly as Jackson walked away and took the call.

"Hold for Ms. Lyon," the voice said.

"Jack, this is Cecelina."

"Hey, not a fun time. Can I call you in the morning?"

"Just give me a second. Josh is out. He's been removed by the board. Between you and I, he's in rehab. Serious drug problems."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Jack said facetiously.

"I'm the new studio president. This will be in the trade papers in the morning, but I wanted to get to you before the madness. There's a change coming. Superman. The role is yours if you want it."

Jackson smiled. This was good news. Great news, and he wanted to share it with Lisa. Looking at the deck, he noticed she was gone.

"I'm in. I've got to fly right now."

"I see what you did there. Way to embrace it, Man of Steel."

Jackson ended the call, went to the deck, and Lisa was gone. He looked down to see her climbing down the hillside struts of the deck to the ground far below.

He called to her, but she quickly disappeared into the wooded hillside of Laurel Canyon.

Jackson's phone rang with the name JESKE. He answered and listened. But he said nothing. Plausible deniability.

____________________________________________

The sun had already risen over Eagle Mountain in Joshua Tree.

Lisa sat atop the giant boulder looking out over the desert landscape. Hundreds of miles over the horizon lay Los Angeles, with its complications. Thousands of miles behind her, the east coast, once her home, offered the promise of anonymity. This was her crossroads.

In the distance, she swore she heard her name echoing off the rocks. Then the silence of the wind through the odd-shaped Joshua trees.

"Lisa," a familiar voice echoed.

Moving from her position, Lisa peered over the edge of the massive rock to see Jackson free climbing upward.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she yelled down at him.

"I have no idea. But I could use some help," he said in a panic.

Moving into action, Lisa turned and began to free-climb down the rock toward Jackson.

"This was a bad idea," he yelled up to her.

"Yes, it was. Right from the start, you should never have called me."

"No, I meant climbing this rock."

Lisa got to Jackson, who was visibly nervous in his predicament, some 80 feet off the ground and 30 feet from the top.

"Seriously, are you trying to kill yourself?" she demanded.

"No, I'm trying to be romantic. I'm doing that movie thing where the guy stops the girl just before she boards the plane to attend art school in Paris."

"I was sitting on a rock. It wasn't going anywhere. This could have waited."

"I see that now," he replied, looking down at the arduous path back.

"Okay, follow my lead, listen to my commands. Do as I say, and we'll get down."

"Can we go up?" he asked.

"Why?"

"So, I can see the world from your favorite place."

Lisa rolled her eyes. It was easier to go up at this point than come down.

Barking commands to Jackson, the two moved slowly and deliberately up the final 20 feet of the rock face until they both rested atop it.

Breathing hard, Jackson lay on his back to let the warm sun rejuvenate him.

"I usually have a stunt guy for this kind of thing," he said breathlessly."

"Now that you are Superman, you can fly up here next time," she said with a smile.

Jackson sat up on his elbows.

"You heard about that?"

Lisa nodded yes.

"You are about to go from being Hollywood's fifth most famous man to the most famous. I'm happy for you. You deserve it."

"But?" he asked.

"But you don't need me. I'm nobody. I have this fucked up past that won't go away. You're a Hollywood ten, and I'm a Burbank six at best."

"Do you know who Billie Veron was?" Jackson asked.

"No."

"She was Jimmy Cagney's wife. He was famous for playing-"

"I know who Jimmy Cagney was."

"Well, he and his wife were married for 64 years. They lived on a farm in upstate New York. He made movies and always came home to her."

"You want me to be a housewife?"

"No, I want you to be happy. I want you to climb rocks, mountains if you like. But I think you will be happier with me in your life. Now, tomorrow, and at least for the next 64 years. I'm not just saying some lines from a movie. This is me. This is real," Jackson said hopefully.

"I know, you're not that good of an actor," she jabbed.

"Ouch. Fair enough."

Lisa slid next to Jackson, securing him with her body.

"You really could have killed yourself getting here. Then everyone would blame me for slaying Superman."

"I don't see you as a Lex Luthor type. So, what do you say, will you be my Lois Lane?"

"I want Clark Kent. You can be Superman when the cameras are on, but Clark Kent when you are with me."

"The two turned to face each other, their lips touching in a tender emotional kiss."

"Not to make this about sex, but you realize we've never finished inside each other. We did about everything else."

"I can call the hotel," he said with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"Why go to a hotel when you have a perfectly good rock in the desert?"

With that, the two brought their bodies together, preparing to consummate their bond on top of a flat rock in the middle of a desert, miles from nowhere.

____________________________________________

Epilogue

The small Encino home was dark as Gunner Becker slept peacefully. In his dreams, a snake had slithered in close, and then he felt the pain of fangs in his neck.

He woke with a start to see three men clad in black, wearing tactical gear, their faces covered.

"Time to go home," Jeske said.

One of the men held a bag with stacks of videos, photo albums, negatives, computers, and hard drives.

"Who are you?" Gunner asked in fear.

"I am the ghost of You done fucked up big time, Gunner," the man said as he injected Gunner with a red solution.

"In three minutes, you'll be asleep. You'll wake up in a truck driving to the Mexico City airport in ten hours. You'll have a ticket to Germany. Go home. Your Hollywood privileges have been revoked," Jeske said.

"I promise I'll never do anything-"

With that, Gunner was asleep.

Hours later, he woke in the back of a truck approaching Mexico City's airport. He was covered in dust. A one-way plane ticket to Germany was stapled into his hand.

Hollywood Nights

And those Hollywood nights

In those Hollywood hills

She was looking so right

In her diamonds and frills

All those big city nights

In those high rolling hills

Above all the lights

She had all of the skills

He'd headed west 'cause he felt that a change would do him good

See some old friends, good for the soul

She had been born with a face that would let her get her way

He saw that face and he lost all control

He had lost all control

Hollywood Nights lyrics © Gear Publishing Company Inc

____________________________________________

UNCHAINED MELODY (Part II)

"What about him?" Cecelina inquired about her boss.

"He'll wake up in the alley in a few hours. I doubt he'll have any idea how he got there," Danny said.

"I owe you both. You'll hear from me. That's a promise," Cecelina said warmly.

"I'm glad you're safe," Maurillia added.

"Safe and ready to make this guy pay," Cecelina replied.

11 o'clock rolled around, and as the restaurant was closing, Maurillia finished her bar work as Danny approached.

Where did you leave the scumbag?" she asked.

"He's next to the Arby's dumpster. There are always a lot of cats near there, so he'll have friends. You ready for our first official date?"

"Could you not make this so dramatic? I'll drive," she said.

"It's a block away," he replied, "and we walked here, so drive what?"

The Pacific Coast Highway, past Malibu, was dark, with only a few vehicles heading southbound toward Santa Monica. The headlights of a fast-moving vehicle split the night, and the red McLaren shot by going no less than 100 miles an hour.

At the wheel, Maurillia was charged up with the big dick energy that a McLaren provides. Danny was somewhere between terrified and titillated.

"We might want to slow down; after all, we are borrowing this car."

"We stole it, Danny. We stole it," she said with a pleased smile.

"Well, we're going to return it; you said we would. So technically, that's us borrowing it."

Maurillia turned the car off the Pacific Coast Highway onto an unpaved road which was not what a McLaren P1 was built to handle. The road took them to an empty field on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The moon illuminated the car as it rolled to a stop.

She exited the car and looked at the incredible vista before her. Danny joined her.

"So, Danny, before we return this car, how about you fuck me on the hood?"

Danny was caught off guard. Not that he hadn't hoped for another chance to be inside Maurillia, but he had not planned to do it on top of a stolen $350,000 vehicle.

Maurillia backed up to the car and sat on the nose of the sports car, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her small braless breasts and white skin. Danny approached, standing before her, his crotch at her face level. With a mischievous grin, she unzipped his fly to reveal his erection, which sprang free and ready for action.

Giving her hair a flip, she leaned forward, taking him deep in her mouth. Her mouth and throat surrounded his flesh, then the velvet friction of her tongue as she began to bob up and down. Danny marveled as she slid her mouth down his shaft until she reached the hilt, then held it there with zero gag reflex.

He knew he could explode at any second but allowed Maurillia to milk his cock with her mouth until he began to edge. At the tipping point, he slowly drew back and marveled at the beautiful woman before him. Her open shirt blew out in the breeze, and her nipples hardened.

Maurillia stood, eyes locked on Danny's, then slid her skintight pants to the ground. Wearing only the open shirt, she back reclined on the car hood and scooched upward. Danny knew he would enter her soon but longed to taste her pussy first.

He pushed her legs open, and her vulva opened like a sideways mouth longing to be kissed. Leaning in, Danny pancaked his tongue and took a long slow lick up her crease. The move was tactically perfect as she shuddered from the teasing pleasure. Pushing her thighs to hold her legs back and open, he buried his face in her pussy and began to explore.

The heat from the performance engine made the hood warm to Maurillia's ass and helped her relax despite the firm surface. As Danny explored her pinkness with his tongue, she slid her hand in to gently probe her clit.

Danny stopped his tongue work and slid her forefinger in his mouth, sucking it and then releasing it, wet and ready to do work as he pushed her legs even wider and upward, revealing her bleached pink rear entry.

Gently pushing him lower, she clenched her ass muscles, causing her tight knot to open and close like a winking eye. She beckoned his tongue lower without words until Danny circled her rear rim. Her pussy, reacted with a rush of fluid in competition with her starfish, begging him to return. Maurillia let out one of her loud groans.

"I'm going to cum," she uttered between moans.

Danny had held off cumming because he wanted to be inside Maurillia when he climaxed. But her muscle contractions told him there would not be time for that, so he doubled down, pushing his nose against the top of her slit so it tickled her clit as his tongue explored up from her clenched rim and along her perineum, then deep into her pussy.

Maurillia shook with pleasure as the orgasmic wave hit her hard. She felt paralyzed momentarily, followed by a rapid flush across her skin. Her orgasm struck in three waves, the first building, the second climaxing, and the third easing off as her body went limp.

Danny stood up, his face soaked in her effluence, and looked at the spent beauty splayed on the hood of the exotic car. She lay there with her shirt open, her breasts red with a sex flush, her long wild black hair spread out on the hood. This could easily be the best advertisement for a McLaren no one would ever see.

Danny needed to cum badly and began to stroke himself. Maurillia stirred from her post-orgasmic state and sat up, watching Danny work his cock.

She stood up, turned away from him, and laid face down on the hood of the McLaren, legs on the ground, her ass facing Danny. She opened her stance, slid a hand under her legs then fingered her still-soaked pussy. Her long, pronounced labia minora had sealed shut from the contractions of her orgasm. Maurillia glided a finger down, gently separating the sealed flesh petals, opening them like curtains in a theater, revealing her wide and wanting pussy.