I was lying naked, post-orgasmic, following a wonderful time with a girl. I call her a girl but she was a woman about thirty and we’d met a few hours before in a bar in the seedier end of Hollywood. I’d gotten her back to my place and one thing led to another and I discovered she was pretty keen on my strappy and wasn’t too fussy about where I put it.

God, but I love a girl who takes it in the ass. She was noisy, messy and no slouch when it came to using the strappy on me either. We didn’t get a lot of sleep.

She handed me my phone when it started warbling at around nine in the morning. I answered it blearily and found it hard to concentrate because as I spoke to the caller, she, name still unknown or, if she’d told me, forgotten, was back between my thighs with her tongue doing very distracting things to my cunt. Sally, I discovered later. Nice.

My name, now anyway, is Cora Rubens. I had been called Cora Rubenstock when I first met Hattie Thorne. At that time she was the American head of the Caterham Agency and it was she who’d called me that morning.

“Flick,” referring to Felicity Caterham, “will meet you when she’s next over from England. She’ll decide whether we will represent you but I’ve recommended you and she normally goes with my opinion.”

Hattie was absolutely fucking gorgeous and disappointingly straight. She had legs that went on and on, tits to die for and a face to match. Her accent was pure English crystal and she exuded class. I met her after I’d been working on a film with Faye Millerton. Well, that’s putting it a bit strong.

Faye had been the lead and I’d played a very small part but she seemed to like me and suggested I should see Hattie because Caterham represented her. She was sure they’d look after me better than the sleazeball I’d been saddled with when I’d left drama school in Brooklyn.

Flick was pure Brit class. She was a dynamo and arrived at our first meeting like a whirlwind.

“I’ve seen some of your stuff. Impressed. We, Hattie and I, think you can do well but you have to do two things. Change your name is the first. Cora’s fine," gee thanks, “but Rubenstock isn’t. So, we change it to Rubens.” Whatever. “Next, the accent.”

“What the fuck is wrong with my accent?” I was getting a bit antsy now.

“Darling,” she said with a sweet smile, “it has the quality of a cat’s claws sliding down a blackboard. I’m not suggesting you lose the New York, it’s part of you, but a good voice coach will soften it and you’ll also learn to do English.” Her smile was seductive.

“I speak English.” Christ, this broad was getting on my tits.
 

"Of a sort, yes, I grant you. But, and you have to trust me here, with a bit of work your accent will be less of a barrier to good work. Take it or leave it. You can stay with Arny Hemmerman and be a bit-part player or you can join me and maybe, just maybe, be a star.”

So, I took it. Fast forward a few weeks and I went to a party at Millerton’s Hollywood home. Apparently I was presentable by then. Fucking Brits! I was chatting to Faye. She was hot but at that time she was kinda loved up with a doctor called Eleanor, another Brit, and so I’d have been wasting my time trying to get in her panties. She’d made it very clear she was a one girl, girl. Anyways, there we were talking away when Flick suddenly appeared at my side. She kissed Faye, then me.

“Faye, darling, do you mind if I borrow Cora for a while? There’s somebody I am very eager for her to meet.”

“Of course not. Watch her, Cora. She’ll have you working for some slave driver and take ninety per cent of your fee.”

“Ninety-five, darling, ninety-five.” Flick scooped her arm through mine and dragged me across the room. At one point she stopped. “Dolly Stern is making a new film and Faye’s the lead. She suggested Dolly meet you. Dolly’s as gay as a carousel and you’re just her sort.”

“I don’t,” I said angrily, “fuck to get work.”

“Jolly good.” Thus dismissing my outburst she continued, “Be nice.”

Dolly Stern is a legend. I’d seen a lot of her work and the thought of working with her was exciting.

“Dolly, meet Cora!”

“Flick.” They kissed. “Are you ever off duty?”
 

“Dolly, darling. You know I only ever bring you the best. Get to know each other. I have to circulate. Be good.”

And with that, she was gone. Dolly looked me over. “Faye says you’re good.”

“Faye’s very kind, Miss Stern. I think she saw me at my best when I was her maid in the last film we did together.”

“Dolly. It was the first you’ve ever done with her, too?” She raised an enquiring eyebrow.

“True.” I smiled. “But I was brilliant.”

“Modesty, I love. Your voice has changed. I saw that film. You were good but your voice wasn’t.”

“Flick sent me to a voice coach. She said I sounded like a cat’s claws scraping a blackboard.”

“Did she no?. Lift your chin.” I lifted it. “Nice bone structure. Did Faye fuck you?”

“No, Miss Stern.”

“Call me Miss Stern again and I’ll shoot you.” Her smile softened the warning. “It’s good to meet you. Tell Flick I didn’t proposition you, won't you?”

“Yes, er, Dolly, sure.”
 

“Good girl. Got to mix. Enjoy the party.”

When I next saw Flick, she was in a bit of a huddle with Hattie and a tall, ash blonde butch girl. Flick turned to me.

“How did you get on? This is Marilyn Foster.”

The ash-blonde smiled, “Call me Maz, everyone does.”

“Hi. Dolly told me to tell you she didn’t proposition me.”

A huge grin spread across Flick’s face. “Well done you. Time Flick and Hattie got to work. Come on, Hat, let’s earn some money.”

The two of them walked off, heels clacking leaving me with Maz. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Dolly never, ever fucks anyone she may be working with, is working with or has worked with. It’s a rule she never breaks. If she hadn’t considered working with you, she’d have tried to get you upstairs. She has an insatiable urge to fuck.” Things were getting clearer. Maz smiled. “Now, on the other hand, I have no rules. If I see someone I want to fuck, work or no work, I’ll give it a try.” She moved closer.

Faye appeared at my side with her woman, Eleanor. “I see you’ve met Maz. Meet Eleanor.”

We all said our hellos and a waitress arrived with a tray of drinks. We chattered as we sipped champagne before Faye and Eleanor left us to circulate. In the corner of the room, a small band was getting ready and I watched a rather beautiful girl polishing her sax. Maz nudged me. “Pretty isn’t she?” I nodded. “You going to dance with me?”

I looked up at her. “You always dress so butch?” She was wearing a pair of black leather trousers, a white button-down and a black linen jacket. It was all class, down to the little black ankle boots with low heels and buckles.

“Always. Not your thing?”

I was wearing a deep blue evening dress that came to my ankles and scooped my tits (34c, if you’re interested) rather nicely, I thought. I’m a femme les and actually like butch women.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant is it the natural you?”

“Absolutely. Flick says I should tone it down but hey, I am what I am.”

“Good for you. No, I’m not going to dance with you unless, that is you mean horizontally?”

“You don’t fuck standing up?”

I grinned. She was so direct, so open it was refreshing. My kind of girl. “For the right woman I fuck any way she wants.”

She led me out of the room, holding my hand. We ascended a flight of curving stairs and along a corridor to a room overlooking the beach. The clothes strewn on the floor were obviously Maz’s. “I wasn’t expecting a visitor so I didn’t tidy. Who cares?” She was taking her jacket and shirt off as she spoke. “Actually, standing up rather does it for me.”

Two can play at that game. I leant back against a wall and lifted my dress. I was wearing a black thong and Maz smiled as she saw me push it down to expose my bald cunt with a clit hood ring. I started stroking myself with one hand while the other hand liberated my left tit and squeezed the nipple which was getting very, very hard. Maz watched as she slipped off the boots and pants. Dark blue boxers came off next and then she got her girls out and came close to me, covering the hand between my legs with one of hers.

“Keep going, babe. Maz is going to get her joystick.” I watched as she went to a drawer and pulled out a lovely pale purple strappy and stepped into it, watching me as she did so. Straps tightened, girly wang bouncing before her in her hand she pushed my hand aside and felt me. “Cora’s nice and damp for me. I do so love a wet yank.”

“Had a few have you?”

“Dozens, darling.’ Further words were impossible as her tongue pushed into me and her dildo stroked between my legs until with a gentle shove from her and a moan of delight from me she expertly drove into me. Kissing, tongues and one of her hands on my breast, the other on my ass she plundered me, increasingly forcefully pushing into me, pulling out then driving back.

Several minutes of that and I was close.

“Hold your horses, darling.” To my dismay she pulled out of me then turned me to face the wall, pulling my hips so my ass was high and head low, hands on the wall and she lifted the dress and pushed back into me, doggy style. Now I have to admit, I love being fucked that way. I pushed back against her and she knew how much I was loving it. Her body curled over mine, her hands found my breasts and she worked my nipples which ached and hurt so good.

My dam broke when her finger found my clit. I bucked under her, neck arched, mouth open in a silent scream that ceased to be silent as the orgasm ripped through me. I’m an occasional squirter and this was one such occasion. I guess it was my orgasm and the earthy messiness of my cum flooding down my legs and hers that flipped Maz over the edge too and she drove deep inside me and held there as she gave a loud bellow close to my ear that was something like ‘Jee-fu-chris-i’m-cummmmmm’ but I may be wrong.

We stayed in that position for a while before I felt Maz start to move again, like a railway train easing away from the station. Christ, I thought, she’s going to do me again and I was right. She was relentless, and, panting behind me, she worked herself and me to a second orgasm in a very few minutes; quieter, less violent but nonetheless satisfying.

Later, in bed, my clothes lying mixed with the mess on her floor, me naked like her, our bodies like the clothes on the floor, tangled and disheveled I kissed her mouth. “Are all Brits as eloquent as you when you cum?”

“Oh, no darling. Some become seriously incoherent.”