Hollywood's Secret Baby

“Sorry,” I say so quietly that I’m not sure she’s heard. She smiles and then is gone again.

Cory, either oblivious or simply optimistic, raises his eyebrows. “Ready for the second take?”

I’m not, and it shows. This time I screw it up when I bump his nose with my chin. After resetting, we go for it again, but my problem this time is when I knee Cory in the balls as I go to slide down him. He groans but claims he’s fine for the next take.

After his breathing normalizes from the shock of pain, he leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Remember that night in first class? Just do me again like that.”

From here, that memory is like a distant dream, too far away for me to remember how I felt at the time or what made me act the way I did. That Augusta was so confident in her decision. She would be embarrassed of the girl straddling Cory now.

So for that girl, I reset, placing my legs on either side of Cory’s waist. I lower my breasts into his face and dip my lips so they’re just barely grazing his ears. I know I’m on the right track when he gasps at the touch and stutters as he calls out, “T-Take four!”

This time, I cheat. I don’t follow Sarah’s advice to be the character. I’m just me. But while I try to envision myself in that first-class cabin with Cory, it’s no use. Everywhere I look are people with headsets on, their eyes on my performance. I can’t pretend that they don’t exist, but I can turn my focus to Cory.

My body moves independently of my brain.

I make a big show of licking up the length of Cory’s ear, ending with a nip, all while wondering how my body seems to be moving independently of my brain. Then I grab his hair, digging my nails into his scalp as I dive down and tease kisses down his neck. A deep breath reveals that he’s wearing the cologne I recognize from his bathroom.

Am I really doing this?

The answer is a resounding, Yes.

Cory is doing something that’s not in the script as well. Unless an erection growing against my thighs is something I missed in my initial read. This isn’t just a scene between a John paying his favorite girl for a tug and suck; it’s me and Cory. The same guy who gave me a Cinderella-like chance to escape my hometown and come to Hollywood of all places to actually star in a movie. A movie that I’m not about to screw up from the very get-go. So even if there’s a voice screaming in the back of my head that this is the most embarrassing situation I will ever be in, I throw myself into my actions more. I tell myself that, if nothing else, this is the perfect chance to try out a bit or voyeurism and see if I’m into that sort of thing. And the thing about me is that when I try something new, I go all in.

Which is exactly what I do with Cory next.

When I press my breasts against his face, there’s still the lacy bra between my nipples and his lips, but the fabric is so thin that I can feel his tongue dash out. But I want more. So I pull away from him, sit straight up, and pull the bra off, flicking it over the edge of the bed.

Cory reaches up and takes my nipple in his mouth, his tongue working a very real gasp from between my lips. This prompts me to slide down him in a flash, taking his nipples in my mouth, lashing them with my tongue. Then I’m working down him further, unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants, and pulling them down until his stiff cock is ready to burst out and—

“Cut!”

I’m panting when I look up, my fingertips still under the hem of his boxers. For half a second, I’ve forgotten where I was. But now lights are coming up and people are running up to us to reset for the next take. I reach for the robe and pull it around myself.

Cory takes one look at me trying to cover up my chest and says, “I think that’s a take.”

No one argues, and I tell myself that’s because the performance was good and not because they’re afraid of disagreeing with their boss.

“Can someone get me out of this?” Cory calls out, to which one of his assistants runs up and begins unstrapping his hands from the bed frame. When she’s gone, he grabs my hand and pulls me off the bed. To Barry, who I met this morning and know to be the set manager, he says, “Get the next scene set up.”

“That’s the next clip for the montage, isn’t it?” Barry has something like a British accent that makes me wonder how he ended up working under Cory in Hollywood.

I make a mental note to ask him about it some time, because it would probably be an interesting story, but Cory shakes up my brain like an Etch-a-sketch as he pulls me off stage and into the small changing room where I’d been all ‘gussied up’ earlier for my inaugural appearance on screen. He locks the door behind him and licks his lips.

“You really know how to drive a guy wild.”

I wasn’t sure what this was about while he was dragging me away from everyone. An insecure voice inside me warned that he didn’t ask for another take because I’d been so bad, so carried away, that he knew I’d never make it. And the reason he pulled me off stage so vehemently was to explain how I would never be an actor, that all of this was a mistake, and that he now had the arduous task of finding my replacement.

But from the bulge still pressing against the crotch of his pants, it’s clear he’s got other plans. Plans that are a direct result of my acting, which apparently wasn’t as bad as I feared.

Cory grabs my waist and pushes me up against the make-up table, lifting my ass slightly up on its surface. After a swift, fierce kiss, he says, “If my hands weren’t tied up back there, I’m pretty sure we’d be filming a porno right about now.”

“So I was good?” I ask between more kisses as our hands slide under clothing. His fingers find the edge of my breast while I reach down to grab a hold of his stiff cock.

He leans his weight against me, sandwiching me between himself and the desk. At the same time, he grinds against me. “Good enough that I wanted to kill the little shit who called ‘cut’.”

My reply dies in my throat as he sucks at the nape of my neck and rubs his fingers across the thin lingerie locking away my entrance. I reach down, unzip his pants, and try to pull them away while he’s still devouring my neck, moving up to my earlobe. Finally, he gets tired of my slow progression and drops his trousers on his own. His fingers then move over to me, where they slip under the black lace and rub up my slit.

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one turned on.” He slides a finger inside me and I gasp. “How are you liking your first day of acting?” he asks with a smirk.