A Girl's Gotta Earn a Living Ch. 01

AUTHORS NOTE: Many of the characters appearing in this story were first introduced in previous works, including Donkey Boy William, Big Jim and Little Tim, and 14" James - Undercover Cop.

*****

"A girl's gotta earn a living...oh my God," Jane cackled. "That's it. That's the fucking title!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Monica knew the stalled project was back on, but she still had to ask. "What about Dan's Penis?"

"Fuck Dan's Penis. If I can't persuade him..."

Monica cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner.

"No, seriously, I don't control him, hard as that is to believe. That fucker likes to show his independence every now and then, and I let him. Trust me, it pays off in the end. Besides," and here Jane smiled coyly, "I'm not even sure he's best for the part. Look what I got." She scrolled her phone, looking for a photo.

The concept of Dan's Penis emerged during the filming of Men will be Men. No one took Jane seriously at first, but her enthusiasm for the project kept it alive. But she then got racked with self-doubt. Ninety minutes of nothing but Dan's cock might be too much, notwithstanding her personal deviant interest. She accepted that the audience might not follow her on this one.

"Use it as a masturbation fantasy," Monica quipped, and it appeared that Jane had forgotten about it, when all of a sudden things started to click. She fleshed out the plot, created a semblance of a script, developed characters, and even started thinking about casting. Explaining the motivation for a character's behavior, she inadvertently came up with the new title, and with the new title came new confidence. Monica was starting to believe. "I'll direct," she said. "You have to play Doris...you are Doris, and you can't direct and star at the same time."

Doris was Dan's long-suffering wife who was to serve as ringmaster for the circus that would take place while Dan slept, or someone, if not Dan.

"Doris, huh?"

"The legs, Janey, the legs. Doris spends most of her time facing the camera..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"Did you know there's a website devoted solely to your legs?"

"Get out!"

"Okay, I made that up. But there will be, as soon as I talk to Olivia and Mandy about it."

"Bullshit."

"Seriously, Janey. Mandy says the blog got a lot of action when someone started talking about your legs; the pervs have spoken...I'm not making that up."

"There's a blog? Donkey has a blog?"

"It's new. Mandy started it."

The compliment may have appealed to Jane's false modesty, but casting her as Doris increased the pressure to get Dan to play her husband. Monica was convinced that an "art imitates life" angle was crucial for the film's success, because they would be selling reality this time around - alleged reality, anyway. The viewer might know it was staged, but Donkey would make it easy to suspend disbelief. The sexual chemistry between Jane and Dan couldn't be faked, and the presumption was the viewer would feed into that.

Jane found the photo she was looking for.

"Wow," was Monica's one-word comment, which pretty much summed it up.

King William, Big Bill, porn star extraordinaire, the main attraction in Men will be Men, had sent Jane a text. He was standing next to another man, and they were both naked. 'A star is born' read the caption.

"He certainly made his mark, didn't he," Monica said, dreamily.

"Who, William? Let's see...he fucked you, right? He fucked me; he fucked Olivia and her two fags. If that's what you mean by making his mark...Pete's young cunts, men, boys...Yup, Big Bill made his mark."

Monica still had guilt over mixing business with pleasure. But what pleasure it was, worked over by both Sunny and William. It was torrid, more so because of Sunny rather than William, which shocked her. Sunny started out as a tag-along, but she ended up being the main event.

After the threesome fucked and sucked their way into exhaustion, a small and probably unnecessary sales pitch ended with William agreeing to stay with Donkey. They would pay him a retainer when he wasn't filming, so he could pump iron to his heart's content. Got to work those muscles. There wasn't an exclusivity clause, but one probably wasn't necessary. William told her he was through with gay porn. That made the retainer viable from Monica's perspective, because Donkey's main competition didn't come from the hetero porn industry, which was corporate, and cranked out product with a stale, predictable and boring formula that was decidedly non-erotic. A few of the fetish-themed porn makers had imagination, and could be a dangerous rival, but they were low budget operations that couldn't afford William's salary.

Donkey may have started out as a low budget operation, but now they had money to throw around, for reasons best explained later in proper context.

To stay busy William appeared in some photo-shoots. Olivia photographed him with Huey and Dewey over a period of several days, and the Donkey website added a gallery section to house them. Most of the pictures were soft-core nudes, but Olivia threw in a little fondling; just enough to create an urban myth that a hardcore version of the photos existed somewhere, and probably a video as well. Roland was constantly badgered about it in every one of his West Hollywood haunts, and he would say that he had no idea, often followed by a wink, suggesting that he did know but wasn't telling. The web traffic was mind-blowing, and an ambitious expansion was planned. To whet the appetite, Huey and Dewey had some manly fun, their exploits getting regular updates on the site.

"Too homo," said Jane.

Monica agreed. "CFNM is our foundation," so Jacky, the former stunner turned MILF extraordinaire, was recruited to watch over the two miscreants as they wrestled each other, and she dazzled in old school, dolled-up glamour. One could easily imagine the boys' boners were her doing, but maybe not. The sexual ambiguity was the tail that wagged the dog.

Research showed that a lot of people who viewed the images also purchased the DVDs, and the gallery would mimic the videos in style, content and approach. Future photo shoots would include women, beautiful, smutty women, in deliciously short miniskirts. Trophy cocks deserved nothing less, and there'd be plenty of those to go around. A photo shoot might even serve as an inspiration for a video, and Donkey Productions had a need for more videos too, something again to be explained later, in proper context.

Olivia excelled in photography, and she was entrusted with building the gallery section into something worthy of the Donkey brand. Mandy had taken over a lot of her office tasks, including some of the bookkeeping, website stuff and, along with Roland, the marketing. Mandy's goal was to become a media mogul of porn, and she wanted to learn the business from the ground up, hence her interest.

There would always be a market for William, but it had to be managed properly. Monica didn't want to overexpose their meal ticket. "Are you sure William's right for the part?"

"No, not Bill. Take a closer look."

"Who, the other dude?" William had so diminished the man in the photo that Monica scarcely noticed him.

"Yes," Jane replied emphatically, "the other dude." Standing next to William, arm wrapped around Big Bill's waist, was a man in his early twenties. That he had been diminished said more about the muscular black Adonis than it did him, for he was quite a hunk in his own right. He was six foot tall and had the classic southern California beachcomber look; blond and tanned, and his nudity confirmed that he wore speedos when out in the sun. His hair was short, but not too short, and he combed his bangs down his forehead in a way that partially obscured a side of his face. It made him look mysterious, sensual and menacing, all at the same time. He was lean and fit, and his handsome, rugged appearance also suggested rough trade. Jane's first impression was that he was a male hustler who sold his ass to the highest bidder. But she thought he had an interesting cock; it intrigued her. Monica could be forgiven for overlooking him, because most people would see William's member and not give blondie a second glance, but Jane sometimes saw things that other's didn't.

Blond boy had the right equipment to be a hustler. He seemed good-sized, despite the handicap of standing next to William. He was semi-hard in the photo, and it was a splendid specimen too, about eight inches long, with a promise of further growth. You could just tell it had a high ceiling. It tantalized. Jane was guessing ten inches when it was all said and done.

Jane could tell a lot from a penis. This guy looked like he was born with a bone, which fascinated her. It wasn't just his cock, but his attitude as well; his subtle arrogance, a confident smile that showed no fear, telling the world he had the balls to hang with The King. His penis stuck out horizontally, his cock-head facing the camera, making his pee-hole very prominent. His shaft was thick at the bottom but tapered as it went up, which gave the cock-head additional allure.

"You think we should interview him?"

"Yes," Jane replied, without hesitation, "but be warned. He's a hustler, or else Billy wouldn't be playing penis tag with him."

"This is your baby," said Monica. "You do the interview. I'm going to Palm Springs for a few days and bake."

"Alone?"

"Let me put it this way, Sunny..."

"Oh my God! Moni, who knew? Is this a one-off or..."

"Just a one-off."

Sunny was going to be a star someday, Monica would be her tutor, and Donkey would reap the benefits. Why Sunny? Perhaps the thought of her ex-husband taking advantage of the sweet, innocent thing struck a chord inside of her.

****

Jane's screen test took place in her condo. At the appointed time Johnny - that was his name - arrived with William. Jane wore an old favorite for the occasion, a long-sleeved, black mini-dress from the retro store that had white lace trim on the collar as well as on the sleeve cuffs. It was ridiculously short and had a lot of upskirt potential, which would be her way of finding out what surfer-boy was made of. She thought long and hard about her underwear. What message did she want to send? She stayed retro, and settled on panties that were a dark pink, or magenta, color which had a white lacy stripe on the top, similar to that on her dress. She doubted the screen test would lead to bra exposure but she wanted to be prepared, so she chose one of brilliant white, with lace trim on the top of the cups, knowing it would go well with the rest of her outfit should things escalate to a dress removal. Dan, that dumb bastard, had been entrusted with hand washing her bras and arranging them in her bureau. She expected them to be sorted by color, and she didn't like it when the moron threw them in haphazardly. But as long as he kept fucking her the way he had been lately, he could sort them any way he pleased. That Dan was allowed the honor of washing and drying her bras meant a significant bump in their relationship. Jane only had one rule, but it was ironclad: "No jacking off in the cups."

Jane's crossed leg waved back and forth as she looked him over. Johnny's tight fitting jeans gave credence to her theory that he was always semi-erect. Finally, the moment of truth had arrived.

William had been acting very protective, which suggested to Jane that Johnny must be a damn good fuck, and he continued along those lines, trying to help his buddy out. "I'll strip too," he said, "make Johnny feel comfortable."

Jane couldn't hide her grin once Johnny's cock popped into sight. She assumed this hustler never had a softie in his life, and her theory gained credence when it showed up aroused on arrival. The tapered shaft was practically vibrating with excitement, straining in an attempt to get even firmer. Johnny's penis had personality; Jane liked personality.

William apparently liked cocks with personality too, judging by the way his was reacting. Surfer boy couldn't take his eyes off of it, and Jane sadly realized that Johnny's arousal had nothing to do with her. His shaft stuck out horizontally just like in the photo, and the top third of it bent in a slight downward direction. It reminded her a little of Dan's arc-shaped cock; maybe that's why it intrigued her. Johnny had the makings of a mini-arc. Penises sure are weird. Was it genetics, the luck of the draw? What makes a cock distinctive, what makes it hang a certain way, why does one stand out from millions of others? Who knew, but whatever it was, Johnny's had it.

"What do you think, his anxious benefactor asked?"

Jane's leg kept rocking. "Well, Billy Boy, he ain't bad, but a lot of guys look good when their cocks are hanging out. That doesn't mean they're ready for Donkey. Tell me, blondie, have you ever done porn?"

"Of course he has."

Jane was perturbed. "Billy, I have an idea. What don't you go out on the balcony and relax. Jerk off if you want to. People across the way train their binoculars on me, so make it worth their while."

"Way over there? That's over a hundred yards. They must have good binoculars."

"I'm worth it."

"No arguments there." William beamed. "You know what? I think I will beat off."

"Close the door. We don't want to hear you slapping. And whatever you do, don't stand up and shoot your seed over the balcony, capeesh? I don't want the neighbors to complain. And be fucking quiet. I have business to discuss with surfer John...you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"No," he stammered.

"What's the matter," Jane asked? "You're not scared of me, are you?" He shook his head no, but his body language suggested otherwise. Jane used that moment to uncross her legs, which either snagged him, and all she had to do was reel him in, or else he was a fucking, raging homo, in which case he could look for work in someone else's movie. The star of her vehicle had to be hetero, or at least look hetero. Johnny looked gay; too gay to be glossed over. Doris couldn't be married to a gay man, and one of the film's selling points included an unsuspecting hetero penis undergoing a homo invasion.

Without warning, Johnny's cock started to retreat, probably as a result being alone with Jane. But it withdrew, it softened, it shrunk. But it wasn't a deal-breaker; his flaccid penis was still a cutie, and there could room in the film for a soft one under the right circumstances, so this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but maybe not good for an audition.

Johnny's gayness would disqualify him from being cast as the lead, but Dan didn't know that, and maybe if he got wind that Jane was auditioning a new boy he'd be more willing to accept the part. Johnny's California blond, beach boy look had a certain charm. He was also a new face, which was important. His cock was Donkey-ready, he had a nice tan line, and he reeked of sex, all the more reason for Dan to stop playing hard-to-get. As for Johnny's gayness, it would be just like Jane to cast against type. The thought of lying in bed, saying nothing and doing nothing, didn't appeal to Dan, but neither did he want Johnny and his Donkey-ready penis in close vicinity to his cock-crazed lover.

Jane rose off the couch and walked the few steps to where Johnny was standing. She paid no mind to the muscular black Adonis exercising his love muscle on the patio lounge chair outside, undoubtedly increasing the sales of binoculars as word of his performance spread; just a typical day at the office in the life of Jane.

She rubbed Johnny's lower back with her hand. "Do you like it when Billy plays with his pecker?" Johnny smiled. He couldn't object to surfer John when The King had also been given a nickname.

"You both look like husbands to me. Whose the wife, you or Billy?" Again, he smiled, followed by a nod.

"Man of few words I see."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"He speaks!" Jane moved her hand down to his firm rump and kept it there. She was hoping to see some movement, but his cock remained soft. It seemed to have even shrunk more, if such a thing was possible.

She refrained from asking whether he knew the color of her panties. Surfer Johnny wasn't yet ready for that, but he better be soon if he wanted to work.

"Did Billy tell you what we do here at Donkey productions?"

"Make fuck films," he replied, still smiling, but also uneasy.

"Let me explain how it works. We like straight men to do homo. A gay man, we throw him to the female wolves. Now take Billy Boy," she said, looking at the patio. "Billy goes both ways equal, so he gets to fuck girls and boys. That's why he's a star. Do you want to be a star?" He replied in the affirmative.

"In that case, you need to relax. And you don't have to stand at attention. C'mon, I'm not gonna bite, relax." Johnny looked down at his package, which was now dead on arrival.

"Penises are very important in our films, probably more important than the body it's attached to. That's why we hired Billy. He's got a big one...you think?"

"Look," he exclaimed, smiling broadly, pointing outside where William was ejecting his sperm over the railing.

"That filthy pervert. I told him not to do that..." Jane collected herself. "I guess I can't be upset. Look at him; he's built like a marble column. Dumb and hung, that's how we like them. If they're too smart they can't get a hard-on." She began to squeeze and massage his butt cheek. "We have to talk about your thingy. It was so hard when you took it out. I know you're not smart...what happened?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

William returned to the living room. This was not an opportune moment. Jane was being challenged. One way or another Johnny wasn't leaving without an ejaculation, which was no longer a sure thing. "Why don't you do some jumping jacks or something...wait, now that you're here." Jane took a step to the side and stared at Johnny's organ. "Billy," she said, not looking up, "you know where I keep my tape measure?"

"In the in kitchen drawer, right?"

"Well, don't be a fucking dimwit, go get it." She shook her head for Johnny's benefit. "You see what I have to put up with? Have you ever been measured?"

"A few times."

"I bet you have," Jane replied, reassuringly. "People always want to get their hands on big fucking stud-ponies. Now you might not think that this is a good time to be talking about measurements, since you've gone all teeny. But trust me, surfer John, you're gonna get a huge hard-on before we're through. I'm talking boner, the kind that gets so fucking hard it feels like its gonna break off it's so heavy. You dig? C'mon, you like to show off your woodie for your friends, don't you? Think of me as a friend." Jane massaged his butt cheek as a sign of friendship.

William returned with the tape measure. "How big are you," Jane asked? "I'm guessing ten inches."

"Uh, not quite, but close."

"You're modest too," she said. "I like that. Most men lie, but I guess you don't have to lie when you got what...a nine-and-a-half incher?"

"Exactly."

Jane knelt down in front of Johnny. "It's okay if you look down my dress. That's why girls wear bras. You're not gonna spill and stain my dress with your sticky stuff, are you?"

"No," he grinned.

"My bad, of course you're not. You can't spill with your little soft-boy, but maybe I can change that."

Jane gently toyed with his cock; barely, touching it as delicately as she could, but still making her presence felt. Nothing seemed to work, not even having William in the room. With no incentive in keeping him around, he was again banished to the balcony.

Jane noticed that Johnny was shaking. "You're not still nervous, are you? There's nothing to worry about. Come on, let's sit down on the couch."