The Perils of Praline (20 page)

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Authors: Marshall Thornton

BOOK: The Perils of Praline
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“Yes ma’am,” Praline said contritely. “I’ll get Mr. Gaffer on the line again.”

“Don’t you dare! I’m going to have to call him myself and apologize for your stupidity.” She picked up a big manila interoffice envelope and said, “Run this up to Sid’s office. Give it to his assistant Tammy.”

“What is it?” Praline asked, curious about the business.

“Actors we’re considering for a pilot called
Nightville
, it’s a vampire soap opera.” Her eyes bore into him. “Give it to Tammy. No one else.”

“Not even Mr. Gaffer?”

“You think you’re important enough to talk to Sid Gaffer?”

Actually, he’d just spoken to Mr. Gaffer but decided not to bring that up again. “I just, I think I can hand him an envelope.”

“Only important people hand Sid Gaffer envelopes. Tammy. Only Tammy.” The tone of her voice gave it the importance of CIA intelligence.

As Praline came out of the office, Jason popped out and ran up to him. “She’s right, you know. You have to be very careful up there.”

“I’m always careful,” said Praline
,
and he was, though he had to admit it never made much difference.

“Do you know who Sid Gaffer is?” Jason asked.

“He’s the head of Box Television.”

“And…”

“And, I don’t know.”

Jason looked around to make sure no one was listening
.
“He’s rumored to be the Godfather of the Gay Mafia. Which makes him the most powerful man in Hollywood.”

“But the head of Box Studios is his boss, and Box Studios is owned by General Products, which is a subsidiary of Le Corporation du Français, which is a division of AsiaCorp.” Praline had picked up a lot of important information just by reading Madison Harvey’s stationary. “So how can he be the most powerful man in Hollywood?”

“He just is. Once, he got mad at a very, very famous actor and told him he’d never get laid in this town again…” Jason gave Praline an ominous look. “And he hasn’t. Not once.”

“You’re pulling my leg. No one would be that cruel.”

Jason raised an eyebrow to indicate he wasn’t joking. Praline could hardly believe it. Putting an end to someone’s sex life was a terrible thing and certainly a fate he’d like to avoid for himself. He’d been doing pretty well since arriving in Hollywood. It would be terrible if someone put an end to his amorous adventures before they amounted to more than a few fond memories. He was really hoping to acquire enough adventures for a tell-all autobiography. With sequels.

Maybe Jason was just trying to scare him because he’d stolen his job. As much as he’d like that to be true, it probably wasn’t. Even though he’d only known him a couple of days, Jason definitely seemed like the kind of guy who told the truth no matter what. Damn, now he didn’t want to go upstairs.

When he reached the penthouse, Praline nervously got off the elevator. The whole floor was hushed. Not that it was noisy down in Madison’s suite, but this was a different kind of quiet. Up here it was quieter than quiet. It was sub-quiet.

He walked into the elegantly appointed and carefully lit outer office—the lush carpet prevented his footsteps from making a sound. An empty workstation sat in the middle of the area. Carefully spaced around the room were Emmys and Golden Globes, each on its own little shelf with its own personal spotlight.

In the distance, Praline heard someone speaking—probably into a phone—but he couldn’t tell what was being said. Anxiously, he waited for the assistant to come back. What had Madison said her name was? Tammy? Yes, that’s it. Like the Debbie Reynolds movie and the song she sang to go with it. Without thinking Praline hummed the song. He hummed the chorus and then hummed it again because that was all he knew.

The man talking on the phone hung up and yelled, “Who’s out there?”

“No one,” Praline replied, though he immediately realized it was not the best answer.

“How can you be no one? You’re talking to me.”

Reluctantly, Praline walked over to the office door. When he got there he saw that the office was three times the size of the reception area. The windows were covered with expensive wooden blinds. Behind a mahogany desk the size of a queen-size bed, sat a small man in his mid-fifties. Light from the blinds crossed his face in bars. It had to be Sid Gaffer.

Sid wore a black suit, a bright white shirt and a red power tie. The suit was tailored to his trim, well-trained body. His salt and pepper hair was cropped close to his skull, and he wore a van dyke that looked as though a barber came in each morning to trim it, which Praline suspected was likely the case.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I have a package. I’m supposed to give it to Tammy.”

“The only packages Tammy gets are for me. What is it?”

“Um, I work for Madison Harvey. These are some actors being considered for
Nightville
.”

“Bring it.”

Nervously, Praline walked across the office and handed the package to Sid Gaffer. He quickly opened it and spread the five 8x10 glossies out on his desk. He studied them quickly, then asked Praline, “Which one would you fuck? And don’t tell me you’re straight. I don’t like bullshit.”

Praline studied the photos of the five actors. Of course, he would have willingly fucked any of them, but that was probably not the answer Sid Gaffer wanted. He tried to decide which one he wanted to fuck most. First there was a blond surfer type, he might be fun, or there was the really hot black guy, or the older guy with a really sweet face…it was a tough decision, but then Praline realized that one of the guys, the tightly muscled one with the prize fighter’s beat-up face
,
looked like a younger version of Sid Gaffer. In a flash, Praline realized that half the actors on the Box Network looked like younger versions of Sid Gaffer. He pointed at the look-alike’s photo and said, “That one.”

Sid nodded and said, “Good choice. He’s the one I’d fuck, too.” Then he rested a hand on Praline’s shoulder and said, “Lemme give you some advice. Television is not a difficult business. You hire attractive young people who the viewers at home fantasize about fucking and then you devise storylines that support the viewers’ ability to fantasize about fucking them. When the actors get old or fat, you fire them and hire new attractive young people for the viewers to fantasize about fucking.”

“That sounds kind of like pornography.” Since he’d been to a porn audition, Praline felt he could speak authoritatively on the subject.

“Oh, it’s not like pornography at all. We pay residuals.”

Praline smiled and said, “Well, good luck.” He started out of the office, but the minute he turned around Sid said, “Hold on.”

Looking over his shoulder, Praline saw that Sid was staring at his ass. Quickly, he spun around. “Is there something else I can do for you?”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Since yesterday.”

“So you haven’t had the sexual harassment workshop?” Praline shook his head. Had he sexually harassed Sid Gaffer and not realized it? Should he not have brought up pornography? It had seemed okay, since they were talking about which actors they’d like to fuck.

“Basically, the way sexual harassment works is…” explained Sid, “…the further up the ladder you are the more you get to do it.”

Well, that made a lot of sense, thought Praline. It must be one of the benefits people always talk
ed
about. Sid walked over to the office door, shut and then locked it. “Pull down your pants.”

“If I said anything you found offensive, I’m sorry,” said Praline. Since he was at the bottom of the totem pole, he had to be careful he didn’t sexually harass anyone. Especially someone as important as Sid Gaffer.

“How about I go first, will that make you more comfortable?” Without waiting for an answer, Sid undid his pants and let them drop to the floor. His thighs and calves were well developed, the muscles clearly defined. He wore a black pair of silk boxers with what looked like thick, floating penises scattered about.

“Are those cocks on your boxers?” Praline couldn’t help asking.

“Cannoli. I got a lotta Italian relatives
.
” Sid looked him up and down and said, “Come on, it’s your turn.”

Praline wrestled with the idea. On one hand, he knew he should take Jason’s advice and be more selective about who he had sex with. He’d known Mr. Gaffer for less than five minutes and that probably wasn’t enough time to know whether or not he should have sex with him. On the other hand, Mr. Gaffer could put an end to his sex life, so there really wasn’t a decision to be made.

Praline dropped his pants. Fortunately, he was wearing a tiny pair of Klevin von Cain’s lime green micro briefs that were one size too small and made his package seem huge.

“Unbutton your shirt.” And when he’d done so, Sid told him, “Rub your cock.”

Praline caressed his cock through the silky briefs. He responded, of course, his erection stretching outward toward his hip. Abruptly, Sid walked over and took Praline by the shoulders. The boy thought he was about to be kissed and didn’t mind the idea at all
,
since as a general rule he enjoyed kissing. Instead, though
,
Sid turned him slightly to the right and said, “The light catches you better this way.”

Then, Sid went back to the spot where he’d been standing and slipped off his silk boxers. His cock stood at half-mast. Like the rest of his body it was short and etched with blue veins. Sid’s breath came more quickly
.
“Slowly, ease down your underwear.”

Praline began to pull down—

“Slower than that.”

He inched his underwear down as slowly as
he
could while still making progress. His cock was pulled down with the briefs. Praline bent slightly when he passed his hips, the head of his penis caught in the elastic band
;
he looked up to see anticipation on Sid’s face. Suddenly, his hard dick pulled free and slapped up against his belly with a thwack.

Sid gasped a little.

Praline continued to slide his underwear down over his thighs. When he got pas
t
his knees he let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them.

“Now turn around and show me your ass,” Sid ordered.

“Do I have to?” Praline asked. Though he’d noticed that some people really seemed to enjoy his ass, he was still less than confident.

“Yes, you have to,” Sid demanded.

Praline turned around, and when he was told to arch his back did so with only a slight hesitation. Sid then told him to caress it, slowly. Praline rubbed his hand over his right butt-cheek very, very slowly.

Standing in nothing but an unbuttoned oxford shirt, legs spread, easing his hand across his bulbous ass, with the Godfather of the Gay Mafia’s rapt attention upon him, Praline found himself incredibly turned on. He put his other hand on his ass and caressed both cheeks, spreading them apart, and then squeezing them back together.

“Oh yeah,” Sid muttered, “Oh yeah.”

Without being instructed to, Praline ran a finger down his butt crease until he got to the bottom
,
where he let it disappear as he touched his asshole. Then he bent over slightly so Sid could see exactly where the finger had gone. There was a commotion behind him and suddenly Sid was standing next to him, holding a chair. “Sit here,” he said.

As he sat down, Praline decided to try something he’d seen a cute little twink do on the online porn site, Cocks R’ Us. He sat down in the chair, hanging both legs over the arms and tilted his hips upward. It was uncomfortable, certainly, but this way Sid could easily see both Praline’s cock and his asshole.

As Sid stood across from him, Praline stroked his shaft. He rubbed it slowly, twisting it to one side then the other. Occasionally, he’d throw in a few super quick pumps to peak Sid’s attention. Then he reached around under his butt and stimulated his asshole with one finger, rubbing in a circle. His hips pushed forward without his thinking about it.

Eventually, he pushed a finger through his tight sphincter muscle. Then he moaned and went back to pumping his cock.

“Get on the floor,” Sid told him. “Then put your hips on the chair.”

At first, Praline wasn’t sure exactly why he was doing this, but he followed instructions. When he was in position, he found himself looking up at his own prick. Peeking back at Sid, who was now upside down, he saw that the man was jerking off rapidly.

Praline matched his pace, stroke for stroke. Sid ground his teeth and groaned in a painful, angry way. Two wads of
come
burst out of his dick and spilled over his fist. Praline increased his own pace
;
he didn’t want to get left behind like poor Kelly at the orgy
.
T
hinking of the orgy made him think of Jason and the little tuff of hair above his butt cheeks, his thick little dick which had looked so tasty and—

And then he came. The first thick burst landed on his face just below his left eye. Of course, he should have expected it, but hadn’t. He jumped a bit, and then pumped out another spurt that landed right in his half-open mouth.

“Oh yeah,” said Sid behind. “That’s it.”

By the time he was finished coming, his face was a sticky mess. Sid was nice enough to bring him a tissue from the elegant silver box on his desk. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was Tammy. “Mr. Gaffer, the boys from development are here.”

“Give me a moment.”

They dressed quickly. As Praline was about to leave, Sid stopped him. “One second.” Praline waited expectantly as Sid finished zipping his pants. “Take the cannoli underwear. As a souvenir.”

Praline noticed the silk boxers were still on the floor. He snatched them up and crumpled them into his pocket. As he left the office, three development henchmen entered. They were over-groomed and impeccably dressed. One of them said, “Sorry sir, but we haven’t been able to pin down the rights to this kid’s life.”

“We’ve left word for his mother via
The National Inquisitor
, but no word yet.”

“And Malcolm Wright won’t talk to us.”

When Praline realized they were talking about him, he came back into the office. “Excuse me, who y’all looking for?”

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