She lay on the bed. He lay on top of her under the covers. He was thrusting his body onto hers.

“Oh,” her voice echoed in the room. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Fuck me! Oh, fuck me! Oh…”

He continued, his eyes closed, teeth clenched.

She threw her head back, wanting to get louder. “Your cock is so amazing! I love it. Oh! Oh! Oh, yeah! Ooh, yeah. Oh!”

“I love you,” he said to her, facing the wall, eyes still shut tight.

“But my sister!” she said to him.

“I hate her,” he said, too quietly.

She tapped him angrily.

“I hate her,” he yelled out.

“But she’s your wife!” she cried out.

“I want you. Don’t you want—” he began.

“Then fuck me, Joe. Oh, fuck me, fuck me. Oh! Just—”

Suddenly she sat up on her elbows on the bed. The man continued pressing his body into hers until he noticed she stopped moving.

She sighed and shook her head. “Oh, who wrote this shit?”

She patted James, who was on top of her under the covers.

“Off,” she told him. He got off the bed as she sat up, topless, leaning her arms on her bent knees. Eleazar, the director came running up to her in his red cap and leather jacket.

“Donna, baby, what’s the matter?”

“This is bullshit. I’m not feeling it.” She glared at him. “And take off that silly cap, Eli. You’re no Steven Spielberg.”

The workers got busy with the lights and the audio equipment. One of the producers cursed out loud and asked who wanted a drink from the minibar they had in the corner of the bedroom. The cameraman, Gomer put his Steadicam camera on the table to get a drink.

“Come on, baby, you’re doing great,” Eleazar begged her, sitting on the bed.

“Great? ‘Oh, oh, fuck me’? Seriously?”

“That’s what the script says, baby,” Eleazar said, flipping through the sheets on his clipboard.

“That’s some crap writing, Eli.”

“I wrote this last night. It’s good.”

“It’s a fucking porno.”

She swung her legs around Eleazar and jumped to her feet as Daphne, her assistant ran up to her with a robe.

“I resent that, Donna!” Eleazar said as she marched away from him in only her white panties, ignoring Daphne with the robe. “It’s an indie. Indie. It’s sophisticated. It’s, it’s real.”

“It’s a fucking porno.”

“It’s a sex scene. That’s all.”

“I hate it.”

Donna continued moving to the door as workers scrambled out of the way of her angry strides and her bouncing breasts. Daphne finally managed to wrap the robe around her.

“The highlight of my career,” she scoffed to no one in particular.

She stared over the balcony of the second floor, looking at the statues of women, the polka dot furniture, and the wall-size TV that decorated the large Beverly Hills house.

Here she was, she continued thinking. Doing a pornographic love scene in this shitty little indie movie at this gaudy house of that rich sleaze financier who won’t stop hitting on her. She only had three scenes, only one with halfway decent dialogue, and two where she had to show her tits.

And why not? They were nice tits. But, to her, they were wasted on this…

“Shitty ass movie,” she muttered to herself.

“Maybe if we do a little talking scene before the sex,” Eleazar was saying as he joined her on the balcony with James behind him, putting his shirt on.

“You’d have to write it first,” she said without looking at him. “More of your shit dialogue.”

James shrugged. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, shut up, James,” Donna said, but then turned to Eleazar while pointing at James. “Maybe he’s the problem. I’m not feeling him.”

“Who? James? He’s a sweet guy,” Eleazar said, his voice high-pitched.

“He’s a moron,” Donna said, turning back to the balcony. “And his character…underwritten. Like him in real life.”

“He’s been studying his role for weeks, Donna, baby,” Eleazar continued. “He’s a good actor. You should’ve seen him onstage. He’s awesome.”

“Well, he’s not awesome here. And besides, I’m sure he had a good script and a good role and a good director showing him what to do on that stage.”

“Come on. Let’s have a drink and try again,” Eleazar said, looking from James to Donna. “Maybe try a little ad-libbing, what do you say?”

Donna looked at James. “What do you think?”

James shrugged again.

“Exactly,” Donna nodded and rolled her eyes again. “Nothing.”

James sauntered away to get a drink.

Eleazar began, “James is all right, he’s—”

Donna interrupted him. “He’s one of those actors. Empty without a script in front of him. No personality if it’s not in the script.”

“Give him a chance. It’s just this one scene with him.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. A long bumpy road to Hollywood, she said to herself.

Eleazar and a few other crewpersons jumped out of her way as she marched back into the set they had created out of a bedroom. Daphne gave her a glass of wine, which Donna drank quickly. She threw the robe off and let it drop on the floor. Daphne scooped it off the floor quickly. Gomer finished his drink and grabbed his camera. The dimmed lights were fired back up again.

One credit leads to more credits, Donna told herself as she got back on the bed. One of the workers lifted the blanket up over her and waited for James, who was still talking to Eleazar.

“Try to feel this shit,” Eleazar was saying to him. “You want this girl. She’s like, I don’t know, that girl you hate to love but love to fuck, you know?”

James nodded, his eyes down to the floor, his shoulders hanging. Donna watched his body language and made a face.

“Let’s get this shit over with, people,” Donna called out.

James hurried over and positioned himself missionary style on top of Donna. Someone threw the covers over them.

The teen named Rachel ran up with the clapperboard and announced in her baby voice, “Scene eight, take thirty,” and then giggled. Donna rolled her eyes. That was Eleazar’s goofy niece.

Donna sighed and got herself comfortable in the bed. She closed her eyes.

“This is your sister’s husband,” Eleazar said in a low voice. “You’ve been dreaming about fucking him. He’s finally yours. All you want to do is kiss him and fuck him. Fate wants you two to fuck forever. You want that big cock inside you. Don’t you?”

She opened her eyes and looked at Eleazar. “Shut up, Eli.”

Everyone quieted down for the scene to start.

When she got a nod from the director, Donna gave a bored smile to James. “Kiss me,” she said flatly, her first line of this scene.

James moved up to kiss her but stopped near her lips. She waited. Instead, he kissed her chin. Her neck. He was under the covers, kissing her breasts.

How are they going to see you, you idiot? she wanted to say.

Now he was kissing her navel.

Okay. We’re doing improv, she figured. But they still need to hear her.

“Ooh,” she said to start her dialogue. “Ooh, Joey.”

His lips were on the hem of her panties. She wondered what he was doing.

Then she felt it. A nibble. What the hell? A bite. She could feel his lips between the lips of her pussy. She jerked up a little. He was kissing her down there. There was a layer of silk between them, but this son of a bitch was actually kissing her pussy.

She told herself to keep acting.

“Unh!” she cried out.

Eleazar was nodding and grinning.

Her body was starting to squirm. She could feel a wetness. Was his tongue out?

“Ooh,” she moaned as she reached down, not to stop him, but to place her hand on top of his head. He was still under the covers, like a ghost lying on top of her.

Eleazar motioned to Gomer, who started inching closer to the actors on the bed with the camera.

Donna watched from the corner of her eye. She turned to face the camera with her eyes closed and let out a hesitant, “Ooh, ooh, ooh,” before settling into a nice long, “Ahhh.” That was for the camera. She started grinding her body into the bed and groaning, “Unh, unh.” That was for her. James continued nibbling on her. She felt his hands grabbing at the hem of her panties. Her eyes opened suddenly.

Eleazar and Gomer looked like they were about to cut the scene. She began cooing again, “Ooh, ooh, ooh,” to show them she was still into the scene.

Eleazar motioned to Gomer to keep recording.

She could feel James’s hands pulling down on her panties. She was worried that people would see what he was doing. She decided to put the focus back on her face as she said more of her lines.

“Oh, yes, yes! She doesn’t deserve you, Joey.”

James started emerging from the blanket. Her panties were down below her knees. He used his legs to push them further down to her ankles.

“Do you still love her?” Donna said, in her character.

“Don’t you worry about that bitch,” James said. “I hate that bitch. I want you. You know you want me, too.”

“I do, I do, I do,” she said, although she was only supposed to say it once.

Now this was the part where he was supposed to slam his body into hers, pretending they were having sex. They had gotten to this part before at around take fifteen. But that was when she had started realizing how much she hated the lines, the movie, her part and her life in general and began causing problems. This time, they were going further, finally.

His arms were still under the covers. He was supposed to be wrapping his arms around her and kissing her before he started “fucking” her. But only one arm was up.

The other was between her legs, rubbing her hard and fast. Her squirming was making the bed creak and shake.

Some of the tired crewmen stopped what they were doing to look.

He stopped pleasuring her. She wondered what his hand was doing. It was holding his cock and rubbing it against her. She gasped and eyed the cameraman again, hoping he hadn’t caught that. James was guiding that cock into her.

She didn’t know what to do. She squirmed and gasped again. She could have easily told James to stop. She had bossed him around plenty of times before. But she was frozen. She was panting, staring at James.

James had always been a simpleton to her, a quiet, unassuming, passive guy with no ambition. Especially compared to the other guys—Eleazar, whom she was dating, the ballsy, handsy producer who cast her, or even the assistant who kept buying her lunch. But here he was now, doing something this bold, this brazen.

Eleazar was nodding, liking how the scene was going.

James’s other arm finally emerged. Now his face was near hers.

She stared into his face, a little frightened and excited about what he was doing in front of so many people. He had a grimace on his face, looking at her with this ugly, menacing frown, as if he disapproved of her, hated her, or wanted to rough-fuck her and then discard her or something. It was a nasty, fiery, look on his face.

She liked it.

“I want you to be my bitch,” James said.

That was not in the script. But he looked like he meant it.

“I’m nobody’s bitch,” she told him.

His character was supposed to be telling her how beautiful and sweet and cute she was. Instead, he said, “You crazy, slutty, trashy, sexy snob bitch!”

“Fuck you!” she replied through clenched teeth. Just then, his face fell on hers, and they descended into a desperate kiss. She pulled away to throw out her scripted line. “I’m not my sister,” she said, before going back for more kissing and tongues dogfighting for dominance.

“You’re worse!” he said. More hungry kissing.

“I’m hotter,” she said.

He kissed her some more. “You’re right about that,” he said.

And then he slammed into her.

“Fuck!” she yelled out, grabbing his shoulders. Everyone in the room jumped.

She quickly added at a slightly lower volume, “Yes, fuck me.” With the next thrust, “God damn!”

Eleazar was clapping quietly and giving them two thumbs-up. He started making gestures towards her to keep talking, to let more out.

“Oh, shit, Jesus, fuck!” she cried out as he continued slamming into her. She wrapped her arms around him and threw her head back.

“Who’s my bitch?” James asked.

She closed her mouth, just wanting to enjoy the cock banging into her.

“Who?” he asked again. When she didn’t answer, he started banging into her harder again.

She winced and looked away. He kissed her defiant face, and after a moment she sighed, annoyed at herself, and turned to let him kiss her.

“Who’s my bitch, huh?” he asked, staring into her eyes. “My sweet, cocky little bitch,” he said.

He pushed into her hard, then back. She was scratching his back. He pushed into her even harder, then back. She threw her arms back.

She grunted in frustration before throwing her arms around him again.

“Come on. Who?” he asked again.

“Me,” she said finally in happy defeat. “Me, you fucker.”

He smiled and continued grinding into her but gentler.

She closed her eyes and let her hands go under the covers and grab his ass as he pounded away.

“Say you’re my bitch,” he commanded her. She shook her head and groaned, but he said it again and again. “Say it.”

“I’m your bitch,” she said, sighing heavily. “I’m your bitch,” she said again.

He strained into her as he orgasmed. She moaned as she felt the wetness. Then he collapsed on top of her. She held him. They were both breathing hard.

Eleazar was about to yell “Cut!” when he saw Donna take James’s face. He waited.

Donna kissed James slowly, her tired, confused eyes looking up at his scowling face. The scowl broke into a small smile. “Sweet slut,” James said to her, so gently the boom mic might not have gotten it. But Donna heard it. She looked at his fierce eyes, not sure how to respond. So, she kissed him again.

Eleazar nodded and raised his hand again, but saw Donna was still kissing James.

“You nasty…two-timing…pig,” she said to James between kisses, trying to think of more insults she could add. He gave her that angry look again and gave her one last thrust with his retreating cock. It surprised her, and she yelped before smiling and kissing him again.

Eleazar had a curious look on his face, his hand still waiting, a finger out telling Gomer and the crew to hold on.

Donna kissed James’s face one last time before wrapping her arms around him again.

Eleazar dropped his hand, rolled his eyes and waited, tapping his heel. He sat there with his chin in his hand, his eyes squinty and suspicious. Once he was sure they were finally done, he said, “And cut.”

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the room slowly began to bustle again. One person applauded, which helped break the tension when others laughed and started talking in excited, hushed voices.

James was about to get up. Donna whispered to him, “Don’t you fucking move.” She motioned for Daphne, her helper to come over. But Eleazar’s niece, Rachel ran up to her first, still clapping.

“That was so awesome,” she said with a goofy, nervous giggle and proud, clenched fists. “You’re such a good actress. I wanna be like you.”

Donna smiled at her. “Thanks, sweetie.” She made a gesture for her to go away. “Now shoo! I have to change.”

The girl giggled again and curtseyed and hurried off to wipe clean her clapperboard.

Daphne, with a tiny grin on her face, came to them and told them how great they were. Donna made sure James had pulled her panties back up before she emerged from the bed and went right into the robe, which Daphne wrapped and tied around her quickly.

While Donna tied the robe, she glared at James, who was still on the bed, looking up at her with a cocky grin on his face.

Eleazar came to them. “Now that was fucking good. See, I told you it was a good scene. And you guys were improvising. That’s cool. It worked. Next time, let me know you’re gonna do this so I can be ready, you know? But it’s cool. How do you guys feel about it?”

Donna’s eyes were still on James’s grin. And his lips. His chest. And his hand hanging lazily over his inner thigh, his legs still under the covers. She pulled her eyes away from him.

She shrugged at Eleazar. “It was all right, I guess.”

“You guess?” Eleazar shook his head. “Come on. Since when are you so humble? The Oscars need a category for best fake orgasm.” He laughed. “Right?” He tapped her elbow. “Fake. Right?”

“Oh, shut up, Eli,” Donna said, turning to walk away, her helper in tow.

This being her last scene to film, they gave her a little farewell party. James and Donna stayed far away from one another.

It was a small role in a small low-budget movie, but it led to other, bigger roles that helped her career.

A myth grew around the movie, spread by reviewers and cult fans and people who had worked on the movie, that some of the sex scenes were real. Eleazar would get so antsy and fidgety when asked about it during interviews that viewers thought he was being coy. But the producers didn’t mind the mystery and notoriety since it helped spark interest in the otherwise forgettable movie.

James and Donna, on the other hand, deny to this day that the sex was real. However, some people think the now infamous scene was why they dated for a year after the movie’s release.