S
Strangebuddy
Guest
Mike Sherry was about to leave for the day when his secretary called him on his phone to remind him of his last interview for the day. The producer sighed, reclining in his swivel chair.
When the 50-year-old man had started his career, this is what he lived for: meeting beautiful young women who were willing to do anything to get even a piece of stardom and didn't mind if the producer wanted a "test drive"
Nowadays though he dreaded it. For every starlet that was worth a damn, he screened a dozen that either chickened out on their first shoot, started balling during the interview, or didn't have enough brains to understand what they actually did around here...as if the spread-eagle silhouette behind the "Lucious Media" logo wasn't enough of a hint.
Which was why he had no intent of trying to sell this girl on a career in porn. He was either going to end the day early, or fucking the brains out of his studio's newest talent.
"Send her in."
The room was a simple set up. A leather couch stood against one wall while Mike's large oak desk stood across from it, only a few feet away. The only thing of special note was an HD camera that stood atop a tripod, pointing its lens at the couch.
When the 50-year-old man had started his career, this is what he lived for: meeting beautiful young women who were willing to do anything to get even a piece of stardom and didn't mind if the producer wanted a "test drive"
Nowadays though he dreaded it. For every starlet that was worth a damn, he screened a dozen that either chickened out on their first shoot, started balling during the interview, or didn't have enough brains to understand what they actually did around here...as if the spread-eagle silhouette behind the "Lucious Media" logo wasn't enough of a hint.
Which was why he had no intent of trying to sell this girl on a career in porn. He was either going to end the day early, or fucking the brains out of his studio's newest talent.
"Send her in."
The room was a simple set up. A leather couch stood against one wall while Mike's large oak desk stood across from it, only a few feet away. The only thing of special note was an HD camera that stood atop a tripod, pointing its lens at the couch.
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