drive in with some buddies when they were old enough to drive and sneak in.  While the other guys where gawking and saying “Look at those tits!” and “Fuck that pussy!” Ian was guffawing and remarking, “What on earth could the camera guy be thinking when he’s that close” and “does Shakespeare have this effect on everyone?”

It was probably just the alcohol he had had Saturday night.  He never was much of a drinker.  He usually could handle three scotches though without struggling like this.  He knew alcohol was a depressant, but shouldn’t it be depressing him instead of making him take every horny superstar up on their sexual invitations?  He looked down at his crotch as he drove toward the office, “Bad penis!  Bad penis!”

He was kind of queasy, was it possible to get pregnant the first time swallowing semen? Wouldn’t that be a hoot!  He could see the headlines splashed across “Us Magazine” now:  “Television Executive Confirms Sexiest Man Alive fathered his love child, Songbird Sings the Blues”.  Ian chuckled to himself, glad he wasn’t writing headlines.

“Holy crap!” Ian thought.  He’d seen almost every film Jeremy Tyson had made, and never would have dreamed that one day he’d be between his legs and hear him say, “Oh, yeah, fuck me baby.”  He had many times dreamed of the words that Susan said to him, and pleasured himself thinking about the things that they did.  It was Jeremy being thrown into the mix that perplexed him.   

His train of thought was interrupted by his cell phone.  He hoped he hit the right button for the speaker thingy.  “Hello?”

“Ian, this is Hooper Felder.”

“Hooper?  How you doing?”

“I’m sorry to call you, but I talked Marc into giving me your cell phone number.”

“No, that’s fine, we’re old friends.”

“Appreciate it.  I’ll not delay your morning and get right to the point.”

“Okay.”

“Can we get together today?  I have something I want to show you.”

“I hope it’s not in your pants”, was the first thing that Ian thought.  He panicked a little, hoping he hadn’t actually said that.  Hooper’s tone actually sounded a little urgent.  “Sure, Hooper.  I’m on my way to work, can it wait?”

“It may be nothing at all, so it can probably wait.  Why don’t you call me after work and I’ll give you directions to my apartment?”

“Sure.  I’m not sure what time that will be.  I’ve got a couple of big meetings today, it could be late.”

“I’m a night owl; just call me when you get off.”

“Will do.”

“And Ian?  It sure was great to have you with us Saturday night.”

“It was fun.  Maybe I’ll get drunk and we’ll do it again sometime.”

He heard Hooper laugh.  “We’ll talk.”  He said and the phone when dead.

He was within seeing distance of the guard shack at the entrance to the lot.  It was always a kick to start the day, pulling up and having a guard peer in the car and say, “Have a good day, Mr. Justyn.”  He felt like he was driving into some 40’s movie.  Today would be no different, or would it?

There seemed to be a large crowd gathered outside the gate, and guards were having to keep the way clear.  As he got closer he saw that