A Mother-Daughter Act update

Carlie ended up being an hour late, and it apparently she hadn’t spent it getting beauty sleep. Her face was a sallow while and when she smiled, it did no favors to her unbrushed teeth. “I’m sorry,” she said, but more like some engineer had included that in her robotic programming than like she actually meant it. “I got held up in traffic.”

The hand on which Peter wore his watch crumpled into a fist, but he was determined not to give vent to even the most passive-aggressive gesture. He didn’t want to jar Carlie from precarious functionality now that she’d finally entered into it. “Your costume’s in the other room. So get into it. Lana, give her a hand.”

Lana went with her and wasn’t surprised when Carlie undressed without even seeming to notice she was there with her. Despite her sickly pallor and the queasy expression that floated on her face, her body was still young and beautiful. At the peak of health, she must’ve been a knockout—now, Lana could only imagine the camera tricks, make-up, and pharmaceutical aids that would go into making her presentable.

She wondered if Peter had used to fuck her. As trashy as she was, Lana was dyke enough to know that most men would go for Carlie—sort of like how Angelina Jolie with a cold was still Angelina Jolie. But, Lana told herself smugly, if he had, he now seemed entirely blasé towards her… and completely contented with Lana and Lori. Maybe it was like the old expression went. A freak in the sheets was useless if she couldn’t be a lady in the streets.

Carlie was playing the part of a single mother who the hero went to talk to as part of his investigation. Her costume was a frilly pink robe and high heels. The high heels would stay with her throughout the scene. The robe wouldn’t. 

When he went into her apartment to take down her description of some suspicious characters she had seen, she would seduce him. It was written as a flirty, jokey romp, but Carlie didn’t look like she was in any condition to seduce or even to joke around. She looked like she had eaten at a Chinese restaurant right before the health inspector shut it down. Carlie rouged her cheeks to meet the low lighting and soft focus camera halfway, while Lana helped her into her heels.

They started filming, with Bill (playing the main character) coming to the door and exchanging a few words with Carlie. “Have you seen anything suspicious in the last few hours?”

“Suspicious?”

“You know—weird. Wrong. Untoward. Crazy.”

“Nothing’s crazy happened in here for far too long. But I have seen a few people walking around outside my little window. Would you like to come in? I’m sure they’ll all come back to me if you’ll just sit with me a few minutes…”

Carlie looked passable, but her delivery was pathetic. She muttered and murmured, her low voice at strange odds with the exaggerated expressions she delivered, making her look like a malfunctioning animatronic, something from a Disneyland in a third-world country. The sound man shook his head despairingly as he pointed to the readings on his recorder.

“Alright,” Peter whispered. “We’ll dub it later. It’s not like another take would be any better.”

By now, Carlie had dropped her robe and knelt before Bill to unzip him. She fished her hands into his fly and pulled his cock. “Mmmm,” she said unconvincingly, running her hand over it. 

She stuck out her tongue and licked at Bill’s manhood. It was about as sensual as watching someone eat McDonald’s and Carlie seemed to realize that. Without any further ado she took him into her mouth, her lips pinching around his thickness as she sucked. Her head pumped back and forth on his length like a car part after the key had been turned.

Lana felt disquieted watching it—it was like seeing a sportsman try to play when he was clearly injured. She turned to Peter, wanting to suggest they take a break, but Peter was talking to the cameraman. “Zoom in on her. If this is what we’re getting now, I don’t want to think about what we’d get if we reset for a close-up.”

Even with the lights low, they were enough to make Carlie look gaunt and chalky. Lana wondered if Peter’s work was always like this. It couldn’t be. He’d been in such a good mood lately, treating her and Lori so exuberantly. Not that he would take a bad day at the office out on either of them, but she could only imagine that things had been going well until now—that Carlie was spoiling the shoot at the last minute.