Casting About: Part 4 [MF][ENF][Exh][Voy][Mast]

**Casting About: Part 4**

**Previously…**

Benson Darling, a not-quite-washed-up actor opened a production company with the intent of doing casting couch videos and sampling the models in the process. After sweeping up Sheryl Clement, a talented but fully-washed-up actress, in a porn shoot, he brought her on as partner, fixer, and creative with the intent of expanding the business…for real.

—-

**Darling Adds to the IT Department and Goes to the Beach**

Sometimes I think Sheryl has played me from the start. I went to her new place to convince her to do more work for the site, and she answered the door naked. Threw me completely off my game. Fuck, I mean, I like her, and sure, maybe I wouldn’t mind fucking her, but my production would fall apart *without* her. I kind of realized that midway through my pitch to her, and basically ended up convincing *myself* that she should just stick to producing and writing. Fucking and producing don’t mix. Take that from a pro.

When she accidentally spilled her drink on herself, her nipples shrunk down in a snap, and all the blood rushed between my legs to the point that it was hurting to sit down. If she hadn’t covered up, I might have been in trouble. The little minx, and then she spread her legs! She knew how to negotiate, that’s for sure. I mean, really, people are supposed to be wearing clothes at business meetings, even in the *movie* business.

The next day, she came into work as if nothing had happened—nothing had, I guess—but she went right to work, barely acknowledging my presence beyond a hello and to give me a coffee she bought along the way (which was nice). I had nothing scheduled for filming that day, though things had slowed down a little since we built up our cadre of girls. Some of them had moved on, of course, but plenty were willing to keep going. On that note, I had a photoshoot scheduled for a tall Latina, Marisol, that night. Her first video was lackluster, barely getting any hits, but she was a natural beauty, full breasts, full lips, a surprisingly full black bush, and I was looking forward to seeing what my art school dropout could do with her. I left later that day for lunch and saw a dozen—to put it politely—*not* attractive men in the waiting room. Your typical Reddit users.

“What’s up, Lucy? Who are all the extras?” Lucy glanced up from her social networking efforts and adjusted her bra.

“Computer geeks. Here for the job.”

“So, *not* extras. Jesus, I just asked Sheryl to get on that *last* night.” I muttered.

“Ms. Clement is very smart, Mr. Darling.”

“I know…” I looked at Lucy. “Wait, are you saying I’m not smart?” She said nothing. “And why are you calling her Ms. Clement and not Sheryl? She works for *me*, you know. I’m *her* boss.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I’m going to lunch. Text me if she hires someone before I get back.” I left Lucy and the lingering body odor of the waiting room and got in my car. It was a nice day, good for riding with the top down. I went a few miles down the road and stopped at a taco truck, relaxing with a lime soda and fish tacos. My phone buzzed just as I was finishing: *Ms. Clement has hired a computer guy. Please buy some air freshener on the way back.*

I stopped at a store half-way back and bought a few scented air fresheners, sprays, plug-in things, whatever, knowing that it probably wasn’t a bad idea to keep the office from smelling of sex and IT guys. The waiting room was empty when I returned and I left a can of vanilla air spray on Lucy’s desk without acknowledging her. Sheryl was talking to someone as I walked into the main room.

“And this is where a lot of our shoots take place, so you might not want to sit on that couch.” She laughed.

“Hello,” I said turning the corner, “I’m Benson Darling, the—you’re a woman?”

“Darling,” Sheryl gave me a quick frown, “this is Lisa Stemmons. *She* will be our new web designer and all-around IT systems manager.” We shook hands. “She has a master’s in computer science, and she’s worked for a handful of tech companies including two major search engines, so, I think she can help us out in more than one way.”

“Great, um, great…look…call me Darling, okay? Everyone does. Sorry about the ‘woman’ thing, it’s just, when I went to lunch there were a dozen extras from Lord of the Rings out there, all of them smelling like they walked from Narnia.”

“From the Shire, or Mordor, maybe…but not Narnia.” Lisa said. “Different book.” She smiled, pushing up her rectangle frame glasses.

“Uh, yeah, I know…just a bad joke. Anyway, if you’re such a hotshot, why work with us? You know what we *do*, right?”

“I’m tired of barely scraping by in places like San Francisco, for one. Second, the corporate climate is not great for the progress of young women, particularly those who code, and third, yeah, I *know* you run a porn site…a decent porn site, though, I should add. Honestly, porn pays. It’s better than working for stock options that may never materialize. Google only wants to hire people on as contractors, Facebook is, well, like signing up to work for Lex Luthor, and the rest aren’t too different. Besides, I wouldn’t work for a place that was *really* skeevy. I did my research.”

“Good to know we’re not skeevy, I guess.” I said.

“Well, to clarify, you’re not *really* skeevy…” She smirked.

“Hmm.” I nodded, acknowledging the joke. I looked the girl over. I couldn’t help it. She was a little shorter than Sheryl—scratch that—almost a head shorter. I hadn’t noticed the thick soles and heels on her mid-calf boots. Her skirt just reached her knees, and she was wearing patterned black tights—sexy. She had a wicked sense of humor, and wasn’t shy about teasing her boss on her first day. The red hair was nice, shoulder-length loose curls, creamy skin, a few freckles, blue eyes behind the glasses. The breasts were hard to judge under her blazer, but I realized I was sizing her up for a shoot, not for running our computers. Still, I liked what I saw.

“Would you like me to start today,” Lisa said, “or what?”

“I tell you what,” Sheryl said, “why don’t you get settled in and start fresh tomorrow? Oh, before I forget…” Sheryl went back to her purse and came back with a set of keys. “Here you go. I already texted you the address, so let yourself in and get settled. The room that’s, um, *clean*, is yours.”

“Thank you, Sheryl, Darling,” she shook my hand again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I waited a few beats before turning back to Sheryl.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“You don’t think she can do the job?” Sheryl said.

“She’s moving in with you?”

“She needed a place.” She said.

“So, just so we’re clear, I’m paying you, and *you* are renting your place. I’m paying *her*, and she’s sub-letting a place from *you*, and,” I paused, “*and* you want me to pay you *more* when we use your place for shoots?”

“That’s all correct.” Sheryl said, taking a moment to scratch her shoulder.

“And you don’t think that that’s, um…like, unethical or something?”

“Lisa’s nice, close to my age, friendly—I like her. She’ll make a good roommate, probably.”

“Not what I meant.” I muttered. I did that a lot around Sheryl. “And if you have to fire her?” I asked.

“Fire her? *You’re* the boss. That’s what Lucy told me after you left for lunch.” She squinted at me. I bit my tongue. “So, you’ll do the firing.” She was testing me, and she smiled. “Look, she’ll be fine. She bathes…first of all…and she won’t be drooling after all the girls, right? Win-win. I didn’t pick her because she was a woman. None of the other candidates were even as remotely qualified. Especially with the SEO stuff.” I blinked at her. “Search engine optimization…” She rolled her eyes. “It will help horny people find our site easier while typing with only one hand.” I was not…well…computers weren’t my thing.

“But we can’t be paying her that much.”

“We’re not. I’m giving her a good deal on rent, and I promised her a percentage if she boosts our page hits. She literally knows how to tweak all that stuff to get eyes—meaning wallets—to our site.”

“Sheryl, you can’t just go giving everyone a cut.”

“Lesson learned, boss, no more, okay? But the points only kick in based on conditions. She has to *meet* them, right?” I shrugged. “Still, if she significantly boosts our traffic, giving her a point off the backend will not hurt us one bit.” She left me standing there, and I had no idea if I’d won or lost the argument. I went about my business, and when everyone else had left for the day, Primo and Marisol were buzzing at our security door.

“Come on up,” I told them. Primo’s real name was Jonathan Primavera, though he wanted everyone to call him Primo. I didn’t care. He came cheap and brought his own camera equipment. Marisol looked stunning; I’m not sure she could help it. She followed Primo into the photo stage I put together in one corner of the office.

“Hello, Darling.” She said, waving and putting her purse and phone on the conference table nearby.

“Hello, Marisol.” I said, moving over to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat while Primo gets set up.” We sat down and Primo went about his business of setting up lighting stands and tripods and whatever else—I wasn’t a photographer. You’d think video and still images were more or less the same thing, but not really. There were things that I could achieve on video that I just didn’t quite get with a regular camera. I didn’t really care, but that’s just how it is. “Listen, I’m going to be straight with you. You’ve seen your residual checks. They’re tiny. No one’s watching you on our site. We’re still weeks away from shooting any real film, but I’m not sure you’re going to be the type of draw we need. And look, *also* to be clear, you’re gorgeous. I love the look, but numbers don’t lie. The photoshoot, we’ll see if that helps—and I hope it does—but you have to give us gold tonight, okay? Really shine.”

“I—of course, yes, of course. I understand.” She was shaken, I could see that, but I wasn’t lying. I was sending her checks for tens of dollars. That was barely fast food money. There wasn’t much point investing more time in this girl if she didn’t have the charisma to pull in views. She’d done a few regional commercials, a couple of catalog shoots, some lingerie shoots for a webstore where they didn’t photoshop out the nips and bush, but nothing notable. She really wasn’t much of an actress, and I had been the one who pushed for her, thinking we might get something authentic…but, well, here we were.

“I’m pretty much set up, Mr. Darling.” Primo said.

“Thanks, kid.” I said to him, though he might not have been ten years younger than me. “Marisol, why don’t you get changed.” She went off to the changing stall we’d put in, just a curtain in an alcove, and came back out a few minutes later completely naked. She’d been out in the sun since her video shoot, though the tan lines suited her. I had a hard time picturing her in the bikini that left those tan lines, especially since it looked like her bush would have been spilling out of it. I was old enough that a liked a girl with a hair between her legs, but Marisol…you couldn’t see her actual pussy. Her bush was so dark, the curls so tight and thick, you’d think she was wearing a merkin if you saw her in a real movie.

Of course, those nerds on the internet claim *every* bit of bush onscreen is a merkin, but let me let you in on a bit of how the industry works. If you’re shooting a full nude scene, and you have the choice between just going naked or spending an hour or two in the makeup chair—putting glue around your junk—and then hours on set making sure you don’t mess up your pussy toupee, what are you more likely to do? Get naked and put on a robe when the scene’s being reset for reshoots—because there are *always* reshoots. So, yeah, a lot of the bush you see onscreen is real, even when the actors claim otherwise, because being an actor myself, I know how fucking lazy we are for certain things. I could go on about how time is money, and director’s have little patience for an actor’s prudishness, especially after they’ve already signed a nudity waiver—but that’s just beating the bush, right?

It worked for her, though, it really did. Most of the positive comments about her on the website were focused on that black Bermuda triangle. An area I’d love to get lost in. I let Primo do a series of warm-up shots, a lot of the standard poses, and it was all good. They popped up on my laptop as I sat there, but it just wasn’t working for me. This beautiful girl was showing off her all, and I barely had a chub. I got up and rummaged around in wardrobe for a few minutes and came back, tossing some things to Marisol.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“Costume change. Put it on—here’s fine.” I said, stopping her from going to the changing booth. I looked to Primo. “You, keep shooting the whole time.” Primo fired away as Marisol pulled on the white string bikini I’d tossed to her. It was small, and she was tall. Just as I suspected, even after re-tying it, it rode up her ass, sat low on her hips, with a hint of her bush peeking out, and in the camera lights was mostly see-through. Her dusky nipples were fairly visible through the white fabric of the bikini top that just—and I mean just—contained her breasts. I was getting hard. I was liking this. Primo ran her through a few more poses, and I noticed the bikini was loosening and slipping in places, a little ass-crack, part of a nipple, a little more hair visible between her legs, but she was smiling, laughing as she fought with the ill-fitting bathing suit.

“How’s it looking, boss?” Primo asked.

“Very good, actually…but, you know, fuck it! Let’s go to the beach.”

“What?” They both asked.

“Seriously. Primo, grab a camera, a light stand, whatever you need, Marisol, fix your bathing suit so it’s decent—or decent enough—and let’s finish the shoot the beach. The sun’s almost setting…close enough to the golden hour, no one’s on the beach around here this time of day…let’s go.”

—-

**Sheryl Puts Darling in His Place**

When I came in the next morning, Darling wasn’t in. That was unusual since he was a morning person and usually beat me in, but then, I was slightly early since I brought in Lisa as well. She wasn’t dressed for success that day, resorting to a denim skirt, and some geek-joke tight t-shirt, but she still wore another set of patterned tights, blue with swirls, and those boots. It worked, though, but I was kind of glad no one was trying to show me up in the wardrobe department at work.

“Go set up in the middle office. There’s a laptop and PC in there. Let us know if you need any more equipment, and we’ll start budgeting. No thousand-dollar coffee machines, though, okay?” I smiled.

“No problem, thanks for giving me a lift in.” She disappeared into her new office. I went into my mine and sat down at my computer. There was a folder of new photos from the shoot the prior night. Primo’s camera was wireless and dropped everything onto our system as he took them.

“Ah, that’s right, Marisol…” I muttered to myself. The pictures were blah. And there were a lot of them. Then she was putting on a bikini. The tone shifted. This was new, different at least. Something seemed to shift in the way she was presenting herself, and pictures of a beautiful girl changing into a swimsuit – even if she was starting from naked – wasn’t a bad idea. She was enjoying herself, smiling—and spilling out of the bikini—and it was pretty good.

The next set of pictures shifted scenes to the beach. By the timestamps, I knew they were more or less across the street. “Shit.” I muttered. They wouldn’t have had a permit, and this was the sort of thing that could cause more bad press than good with a headline like ‘Benson Darling Arrested for Indecent Exposure’. Marisol did a few sandy shots on the beach, looking good, a little slippage on the bikini that was way too small on her, a bit of areola here, ass crack there, a little bush—well, a lot of a bush—but she made it look good.

Then she was in the surf, laughing, and I knew what was coming next, the waves loosening the bikini, the fabric pretty sheer, especially with her dark nipples and the black hair between her legs. Everything was showing at one point or another, even as she laughed her way through struggling to keep covered. Then the top was off, then the bottoms. Marisol was naked in the shallows, not shy, per se, but a little embarrassed—it was real, since the girl couldn’t act—but it worked. Very sexy. Given the tightness of her nipples she had to have been close to freezing, but she sold the imaginary tropical fun.

The scene shifted again, though now it was just a blanket on the beach. Marisol was spread wide, showing the pink between her legs, touching herself, her bush still wet. Then she was making herself *really* wet. I raised an eyebrow as a naked man appeared, from the chest down, and fully erect. She started blowing him, then he was fucking her. The camera was right in there with them. And then it hit me. “Asshole.” I swore. It was Darling. I’d really only seen him jack off with his cock out, not much else showing, but it was him. Part of me was expecting the next group of pictures to be the police rounding them up, but he came on her belly and bush, white lines of ejaculate showing up like quicksilver in the flash of the camera, dusk having set in while they were fucking.

She was laughing at the come, the starkness against her black bush, but it looked real, honest, and I was half-tempted to include a couple of those photos with no lead-up. Instead, I selected five photos and tagged them as ‘promo’, then another twenty-five as premium. We’d decided the only real editing we would do would be a small watermark, just the website name, really, and that was it. I went over to Lisa’s office and knocked on the door.

“What’s up, boss?” She said.

“Don’t say that around Darling, okay? He’s sensitive about the ‘boss’ thing.”

“No problem, I just sort of say it, though. Good timing though, I have some mock-ups for site improvements. It should save us a decent amount of bandwidth too.”

“That was fast.” I said.

“Well…” She paused.

“What, Lisa?”

“It’s just, the site was poorly built, *hastily* built. It doesn’t take much to improve on that. Even the way you load and cache photos, pay processing, that sort of thing, a few basic tweaks, and I gave you probably 10-15% efficiency.”

“I really don’t understand *how* a lot of that works, but I do understand what you’re saying, so thank you. I’ll let Darling know when he gets in.”

“Does he normally, um, fu—.” She stopped herself. “Does he normally have sex with the models?”

“I’m assuming you saw last night’s photo shoot.” I said.

“Considering I’m your network admin, yeah, I see all the upload activity. That *was* him though? Not too bad, given his age, but not really my type.”

“I will not respond to that age comment, given he’s only a few years older than me, and we’re both in our fucking *thirties*.” I said flatly.

“No offense. It’s different for women, anyway.”

“It’s worse.” I muttered. “But yeah, it was him.” I sighed. “I’m not going to lie. It’s probably not the last time you’ll see his cock. He’s definitely not celibate, but it’s not the *only* reason he works here. In my opinion, he overstepped by including himself in the shoot, at least in public. They could’ve all gotten arrested last night. For all I know, they did.”

“Who got arrested?” Darling stepped up behind me with a cardboard coffee tray. He handed me one, then offered another to Lisa.

“We were wondering if *you* did, based on last night’s shoot.” I said.

“That was pretty hot, right?” He grinned.

“Up until some random dude started fucking our girl.” I countered.

“She *asked* me to do that.” He held up his hand. “Really. No bullshit. I wasn’t going to say *no*. When was the last time someone who’s barely old enough to drink asked you to fuck them?” He waited a beat for answer, which I didn’t give him. “That’s what I thought.”

“You put the whole company at risk, Darling. What if you had been caught?”

“I literally know all eight cops who work in this town. I’d be fine.” He looked at Lisa’s screen. “Do you have them uploaded yet?”

“No, Mr. Darling, Sheryl just tagged the ones she wants put up on the site.”

“Bring them up.” He said. She opened them in our image editing software, adding a watermark automatically as she went through them. “Wait, those are all Marisol…where’s the, um, the hardcore stuff?”

“We already agreed we’re not doing that.” I said. “Not for the photoshoots, not until we’re more established as a place for men *and* women. You go all ‘fucking and comeshots’ out of the gate, and we’re just every other website out there.”

“But our videos have comesh—.”

“They make us money because they provide a *story*,” I cut him off, “and now we’re going to start shooting short films, more story, more erotica, *less* hardcore.” I pointed to the screen. “These are great, inspired, even.”

“The bikini stuff *is* hot.” Lisa chimed in. I didn’t need her input, but she wasn’t wrong.

“All I’m saying is that Marisol wanted me to fuck her—not me, personally, I get that—but she wanted the shoot. Hell, and she wanted me to ‘shoot’ on her. Some women are into that, you know.” He said with a bit too much accusation behind it. I sighed.

“Do you disagree with my photo choices?” I asked. He shook his head. “Good. Lisa will have them up soon. I think this will be really good for Marisol’s page hits, so you did great in that department. As for the *extra* photos, we’ll save them, maybe have a double-secret premium area in the future, but for now, they’ll be archived.”

“Okay.” He said. “I get it. What we’re trying to achieve here, branding-wise, I do. I was just excited about last night’s shoot.”

“We all saw *exactly* how excited you were, Darling.” I said, with slight smile.

“Speaking of which,” he looked at Lisa, “are we going to initiate our latest hire into the company, or what?”

“Darling!” I snapped.

“What’s he talking about?” Lisa asked.

“He’s not—.” I started, but he cut me off.

“Sheryl got started at this company by stripping down and blowing Michael on camera. We weren’t even going to use it after I hired her as producer and head writer, but she insisted.” I blushed. “Since Michael and Sheryl already showed off their talents onscreen, Sheryl demanded I…” He made a jacking off gesture. “On film, as well. That way no one can jump ship and fuck things up out of spite.”

“And yet, last night, you tempted fate all the same.” I said.

“You want me to masturbate on camera…” Lisa said, frowning.

“No.” I said. “No. I am explicitly saying we *are not* implying, asking, or requiring that in any way.” I turned to Darling. “You are going to get us sued. What if she had been one of those Cheeto-dusted stink balls in the waiting room yesterday? Would you ask him to do the same thing?” Darling looked away. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“To be fair,” Lisa said, “based on the way those guys were looking at me and Lucy in the waiting room, you would have likely caught one of them spanking it in here, regardless. That said, I probably won’t be doing any initiation today.”

“To be clear, again, we *never* asked.” I added. “Officially or unofficially. On the record.”

“I get it.” Lisa smiled. “Really, I’m not offended. Even if you try to pressure me, I’m not going to put up with it, for this or any other things. I’ve worked with plenty of assholes since I’ve been out of college, and you two are so far down *that* hierarchy, I think we’ll be okay.” She smiled, and I found myself smiling back. “I *know* this is a porn company, so I can’t exactly get annoyed with the sex talk…harassment, on the other hand…” She squinted theatrically at Darling, but then grinned. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to upload some tits, ass, and a staggering bush—sans my employer’s jizz—to our website.” We left her to her work.

—-

**End Part 4**

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/l0rdc0/casting_about_part_4_mfenfexhvoymast