Roger Fitzgerald: The Hollywood swappers

"Well darling… personally I look forward to that ambitious prick pulsing right up in my pussy… You saw him that time they came over for drinks… He couldn't take his eyes off me… and was doing everything he could to keep from breathing hard… Christ, we could've made it right then."

"My, you are eager, aren't you?"

"Jealous?"

"A little, perhaps, but I always am – for a moment at least. But that doesn't last longer than it takes me to get into the sack with your lovers' wives."

Don took another sip of his martini. "I wonder how she's going to react when I tell her you have to study for a part and that I'll take her out to dinner alone."

"Good luck, love… I'm going to take a nice long bath and get ready for the evening. There's a lovely little orgy out in Topanga to keep me from getting bored."

Rachel stood up and Don eyed his wife's tanned voluptuousness as she walked back into the house. God! It was a natural wonder, like the redwood trees, how that woman's body stayed so beautiful through the years.

Lisa had been upset at the news that Charles would be working late and she had been indulging in Bloody Marys since the phone call. When Don Carpenter knocked at the door she was already more than a little tipsy.

"Hi, darling," Don smiled as the front door opened. "Your leading man has just arrived."

"Wonderful," Lisa said. She hadn't been in Hollywood long enough yet for the magic of famous faces to have worn off. And every time she saw Don Carpenter, whose face, cut from fan magazines graced the walls of her teenage bedroom, she couldn't help but feel a wonderful thrill run through her body. "Would you like a Bloody Mary?" she asked.

"Sounds great…"

"Say… where's Rachel?"

Don sank down in a chair… "Well, she has a script she has to learn for tomorrow – and they want her at the studio at 6am for makeup – so she couldn't make dinner tonight. But I didn't want to have our evening ruined, so I'll take you and Charles out to diner…"

Lisa laughed as she poured Don Carpenter his drink. "Well, Charles is working late tonight too, I'm afraid… maybe we should just do this another night."

"Nonsense… I have no desire to sit home tonight and watch Rachel read a script. I'd much rather watch you enjoying a good dinner."

He helped her on with the lynx coat Charles had bought her for her birthday, and together they walked to Don's Mercedes sedan. And as they drove down Sunset Boulevard to the Strip, Lisa's thoughts were centered not upon the aging movie star who sat beside her, but upon her husband Charles and her marriage. Confused and hurt by the call from his secretary this afternoon, she had no idea how to recapture her husband from his work. She decided that she didn't care about the money, about this so-called "glamorous" life, about anything. As a teenager, she would have given anything to be seated beside Don Carpenter driving down Sunset Strip in Hollywood, but the reality of it now showed those dreams to be the dreams of childhood, not the powerful emotional reality of adult life. All she wanted was her husband back. He had been a stranger for too long, she thought almost desperately.

Was it possible that in the months since their marriage she was losing, or perhaps had already lost her sex appeal? Her mind searched every avenue trying to discover the real cause for her husband's neglect. Of course, Carpenter's career was very important to him – but still, that didn't seem to be reason enough for his neglect of her. Her ears wore deaf to Don Carpenter's continuous flow of words as they drove along the Strip. Laura was oblivious to the bright lights and the traffic, and her mind was already fogged by too many Bloody Marys.

Perhaps, she thought, Charles took her for granted. Perhaps she could make him jealous, and then he would have to pay attention to her. It certainly wouldn't be hard. She wouldn't have to do anything. She could be secretive about her night out with Don when Charles asked her how dinner went. There could be no harm in that.

She smiled and sat a little straighter, adjusting an imaginary out-of-place hair on her head. After all, Don wouldn't mind being used… especially if he didn't know about it.

Lisa had never even flirted with the idea of being unfaithful to Charles. She was more in love with her husband than any man she had ever known. But now, to her liquor-fogged brain, the idea of making Charles jealous seemed like a good one. She turned her attention to the famous man behind the steering wheel. I wonder, she thought, how he is to Rachel in bed. It was a question the entire movie-going population of the United States had asked themselves at one time or another.

"Oh," she said out loud, amazed that she could have had such a lewd thought. Never in her life had she any ideas relating to other people's sex life. It had always been a private thing, not to be discussed or even thought of.

"What was that for?" Don asked her.

"Oh, nothing," Lisa stammered. "I-I forgot to turn the living room light out." She was embarrassed to talk with him after picturing him in bed with Rachel, but somehow she couldn't get the thought out of her head. She even wondered how he might be with her, how he might please her. She fought to purge the images from the back of her head, but they persisted, until suddenly, she hiccuped from the embarrassment.

Don laughed. "How many of those Bloody Marys did you drink before before we left?" he asked. "More than your share I'll bet. Do you feel like continuing?"

"Of course, I want to." Lisa took a deep breath to calm herself, raising her full, firmly set breasts higher, straining against her dress, unconscious of Don's fixed stare at her upthrust breasts. For nearly a minute she imprisoned the air in her lungs, while her face reddened under her light makeup.

Then, feeling more relaxed, she casually crossed her legs and smiled at Don. But his eyes had traveled down to her smooth, bare, tanned legs, for without realizing it she had exposed the soft firm flesh of her upper thighs. Don could hardly keep his eyes on the road while he watched her put her head down between her open knees and inhale another deep breath. Her sensuously tanned thighs invited him to touch them, and it was all he could do to restrain himself and keep his hands on the wheel.

Lisa was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, but was no longer paranoid or worried about the direction of her thoughts. In fact, she was experiencing a kind of bravado and daring that was quite new to her. She became aware of Don Carpenter's sidelong glances in her direction, and enjoyed having him look at her legs. It couldn't hurt anything, and besides, she half giggled to herself, she was titillated by the cool air from the vents blowing up between her opened thighs and gently caressing the softness of her panty-covered pubic mound.

She had a smile on her face as she lifted her head up and exhaled. "Ooooooh… I feel fine now," she said, waiting a moment to be sure. She purposely left her skirt high on her daringly exposed thighs. She wasn't ashamed of feeling slightly excited, if it was only in thought. That much couldn't hurt anything.

"Here, have a little of this," Don said, pulling a thin hand-rolled cigarette from his sport shirt pocket and lighting it with the car lighter.

Lisa instantly recognized the sweet and pungent odor of marijuana. She had tried it once or twice at parties in New York, but was sure she didn't get high. Now, however, feeling bold and, more importantly, daring, she took several deep drags on the joint.

Then stubbing out the joint in the ashtray, he made a sharp right turn into the driveway of Dino's Lodge.

"Hey…" exclaimed Lisa… "Isn't this where…?"

"Right… where Kookie combed his hair… you must have been just a little girl when that show was on."