“I don’t know…” I temporized, now scared and losing
nerve. Its pretty damn easy to be brave when you are
on the phone, but harder when you are face-to-face.

“Its not a big deal,” she said. “We’d just like to see
you, have you look around our studio, see if you are
comfortable, or could be comfortable. If it all works
out, and there is no commitment that it must, then you
can do a screen test.”

“A screen test?” I croaked, almost unable to speak.

“Yes, and that is where we lose all but the most
enthusiastic.”

“Oh.”

“So… can I put you down for tomorrow?”

“Alright, but I have to confess that navigating London
scares me. I don’t know that I could even find your
studio.” It was a last ditch effort to keep myself
safe from my own horniness. But she knew a lame excuse
when she heard one.

“Not a problem,” she said. I could almost hear her
smiling… like a spider smiles at the trapped fly.
“Where are you staying?”

“Um, Heathrow?”

“Excellent! My day job is not too far from there. I’ll
pick you up myself, and we can grab a nibble. We can
talk on the way, and I can answer any questions you
have. I’ll drop you off afterwards too.”

“Is it a long drive?” I was grasping at straws.

“Fairly far, but if it gets too late I’ll pay for a
hack to send you home.

OK?”

It was OK, and I gave her my name and hotel
information before I chickened out. I rung off, not
sure how I had come to agree to meet her. The simple
fact is that I had fantasized about being in a sex
video, and this was probably the best chance I’d ever
have to live the fantasy. She sounded very nice, and
professional, and knew how to answer my worries.

I relaxed a little consciously, but my subconscious
worried over it all night. I found myself tossing and
turning, second-guessing myself. In the States I would
have gotten up and researched Priapus Productions on
the ‘net, but my modem was balking at the funkadelic
UK phone connectors. To say I woke up exhausted would
be a misstatement, since waking involves sleeping and
I hadn’t slept.

My clients made a joke about us crazy Yanks staying in
the pub too late. I laughed with them, but wondered
how they would react if they knew how crazy I really
was. The day went by quickly, as we hammered away at
the Heathrow T5 issue, and I soon found myself back in
my room.

I checked the clock, and saw I had barely enough time
to take a shower and freshen up. I scrubbed up, shaved
my face, and my crotch, and put on a little Dunhill
after donning khakis and a sport shirt. I made it
downstairs early, but not early enough.