Six Characters in Search of Erotica

{For Ravenfox who gave me the idea.}

*

"But I don't want to," whined the winsome young ingenue. "Why do I have to be the naked one?" She twirled her hair around her fingers and looked around the bare room at the others.

"Because," explained the young stud standing beside her, "this is a porn site and us guys wanna see naked women!"

"Yes, I know that," she answered, "but there are several other women here. Why can't one of them be naked for a change?"

"Don't look at me, dearie," answered the little old lady sitting in a rocking chair in the corner. "I'm pretty sure I'm just here as a bit of comic relief between sex scenes."

"Besides, you got tits I could bounce a quarter off of," chuckled the man in the recliner with a remote in his hand. "Huh. I guess I'm the lecherous old coot in this one!"

"I don't even know what 'tits you can bounce a quarter off' means!"

"It's just filler until the author can think of a better simile. She'll change it before this one gets submitted," assured the other woman in the room.

"She's a woman, too. Can't she get naked?" asked the younger woman.

"Yeah. How 'bout it? Two naked women would be even better. Maybe a little girl on girl action," the young stud said.

"I don't think so, stud. She's not my type. I'm strictly into men." She looked down at her leopard print top. "Apparently this is our author's subtle way of indicating I'm a 'cougar'."

"Or a wild woman," replied the only other character not heard from.

"Who are you supposed to be, ol' man?" the young stud asked, flexing his muscles.

"Let's see. Corduroy blazer, chinos, glasses. I suppose I could be the cuckold in Loving Wives..."

"Ewwwwww!" the entire room cried in unison.

"But," he continued, "I think I'm the mature male who introduces the protagonist or maybe it's the antagonist -- The author can never keep those terms straight. -- to sexual bliss."

"Neither one of them had better be me, mister! I don't do Gay Male!" The young stud glowered at the other man.

"Now, now, children. No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do. She hasn't written a non-consent story yet and I doubt if she's going to start this soon before the contest," piped up the little old lady in the rocking chair.

"Hey! Are those chocolate chip cookies?" asked the lecherous old coot.

"Yes. It was either that or knitting. Our girl does seem to write in stereotypes," she replied, passing a plate of cookies.

"Which is why you have to take off your clothes! There's always a naked girl in porn. It's a rule!" The young stud made hurry it up motions with his hands.

"Oh, okay, I guess," the young ingenue said, unbuttoning the first few buttons on her shirt, "but this seems awfully quick. I don't even know your names."

"Call me Brittnee," the old lady called out from her rocker, "with two t's and two e's."

"Brittnee?" asked a voice from the couch. "Isn't that rather 'young for you?"

"Perhaps, but if I wait on that author, she'll name me Myrtle. She always does. You want to be a Myrtle?"

The ingenue stopped her unbuttoning and said, "I kinda like 'Myrtle'. It's sweet and old-fashioned."

"You're welcome to it, sweetie," Brittnee said, pulling out her knitting.

"Thank you," the ingenue newly christened Myrtle smiled and resumed her unbuttoning.

"Well," said the lecherous old coot, "I guess that means I'm ... Uh. Who's Brittnee got the hots for this week? Our author hasn't checked the tabloid headlines in a while. Oh, yeah. Brad Pitt. I'm Brad Pitt," he announced to the group.

"Hey, Brad Pitt isn't --" the young stud began before he was interrupted by Myrtle.

"He can be Brad if he wants to be. We still don't know your name," Myrtle pointed out.

"Can't you just get naked and worry about my name later? It's not like you're ever gonna see me again, anyway. She never writes sequels."

Myrtle stopped her unbuttoning, flounced over to the couch and plopped down between the cougar and the mature man. "I'm not getting naked in front of someone without a name who isn't even going to call me in the morning."

"All right. All right. I'm Dirk. Happy now?" the young stud answered.

"Dirk, hm? Oh, I like that," purred the cougar as she crossed the room and stood beside Dirk. "That's a very sexy name." She toyed with his chest, running her nails across his t-shirt.

"You're kinda hawt for an old broad," Dirk replied.

"Don't talk, Dirk. You're much better off if you just keep your mouth shut," she replied, placing her fingers on his lips, "unless, of course, you're kissing me."

Dirk took the hint and began to kiss the cougar, backing her against the door. She responded by breaking the kiss just long enough to pull Dirk's shirt over his head.

"So, young lady. Myrtle, was it?" The mature man on the couch leaned over to catch a peek of Myrtle's breasts concealed only by the white lace bra and her unbuttoned blouse. "My, that's a pretty bra you're wearing."

"Thank you," Myrtle preened, her blouse falling out of sight and out of the scene. "My author likes lacy lingerie. It's kinda itchy, though."

"Oh, we wouldn't want those pretty breasts to be uncomfortable. Why don't you just take it off? Here," he said, one arm reaching behind her, "let me help you with the clasp."

Myrtle rubbed her breasts, paying close attention to her nipples. "Oh, that's so much better."

"No, my dear. What would really be better would be me doing that for you," he demonstrated by cupping her breasts in his hands and flicking the nipples with his thumbs.

"Wait. I still don't know your name," she protested, brushing his hands aside.

"Oh," he looked around the room for inspiration. Table. Tab? No. Chair. Charlie? No. Chad? Not quite. Chaz? Yes. "You can call me Chaz."

"Chaz? Cool name," and Myrtle places his hands back on her breasts as she glides a hand slowly over his knee. "I've never known a Chaz before." Chaz guides her body until she's stretched out on the couch.

"Mmm," he murmurs as he begins suckling her nipples.

"Well, I guess that leaves just you and me, Brittnee," Brad said, patting his knee. "Wanna join me in my recliner?"

"Hell, no. My sciatica can't take that anymore," Brittnee replied.

"Oh," Brad replied, "it was just a thought." He reached for the remote, but was stopped by her next words.

"There's a bedroom right over there," Brittnee continued, putting aside her knitting and getting up from her rocker. "Come on, Brad."

He took her hand and walked through the other door. "Let's show these young whippersnappers how it's done."

All was quiet in the room, the only sounds moans and gasps and whispers. The pounding on the other side of the door Dirk and the cougar are leaning against went unanswered. The rattle of the doorknob went unnoticed. No one paid any attention to the new voice.

"Damn! What was that password again? If I can't even get into the thing, how am I ever supposed to get this one finished in time for the Nude Day contest?"