A Mother-Daughter Act update

Lana had heard of how Peter made his money. He’d started off as a photographer, taking nudes of some of the hottest acts in town. Mary Jane Watson, Gwen Stacy, even Felicia Hardy. His knack for dealing with starlets who were a cut above the usual desperate strippers and callgirls made him a natural fit for harder and harder stuff. 

First Maxim, FHM, then Playboy and Penthouse, then out and out porn. From there, the natural progression was to do video. Peter’d taken to it with the same professionalism and careful diligence as he did his photo shoots, making him a dream for ‘actresses’ to work with. It didn’t hurt that he’d been involved in some leaked sex tapes that were better shot than most things on Pornhub. Soon, he was a name director, working with high-caliber camgirls and Instagram models who could use the money, but preferred not to be treated like sides of beef.

As Peter explained to her on-set, today they would be filming two separate sex scenes and some dialogue. Lori showed up, though she didn’t have anything to film. Lana thought she was there to keep an eye on her, while Peter thought she might want a shot at the craft table. Either way, she was good for morale, socializing easily with the cast and crew. And she set a good example for Lana. Every time Lana wanted to drag Peter off and have her way with him, she reminded herself that Lori was there and she was managing to hold herself back, despite being far more addicted to Peter.

As the day wore on, Lana realized that acting—even in a porno—was a job like any other. The people were hot, they got naked, they fucked, but they also had to memorize lines, follow their blocking, and otherwise perform at least the vestiges of acting. 

Of course, they were largely there to bone. If they weren’t comfortable with doing that on camera, they’d be in another line of work. Still, it surprised Lana a little just how comfortable they were with fucking on film. A delicate little blonde got fucked in the ass by an enormous black man. A spicy Latina took two men on at once. Lana found herself growing blasé about the whole thing. 

None of the actors had a thing on Peter. He could get them to go through the motions, make it look good for the camera, but Lana could tell the women weren’t getting that special something that Peter himself provided. Poor bitches didn’t know what they were missing.

After breaking for lunch, the crew set up the last scene. Once this footage was shot, the film would be in the editing room, which would only be a quick stopover before release. And Lana would have Peter to herself until his next project.

There were a dozen people on set, some of them hangers-on like her. Lori played cards with a girl Lana’s age in a corner—they’d had a lesbian scene together the other day. The cameraman went over his equipment like an assassin in a movie, making sure his sniper rifle was in perfect working order. Peter put Lana to use helping him block and light the scene, picturing himself as the hero and Lana as the vixen. 

It was a sequence that Lana would’ve been happy to live through, but the paying public would only get a cheap facsimile. Peter didn’t do the dull, repetitive work of fucking on camera. That, in part, was Rudy’s job. He sat in a chair with his name on it, reading The Brothers Karamazov.

The other half of the scene was Carlie Cooper, who hadn’t arrived yet. Lana was used to Peter being unflappable, but her lateness had him full of nerves.

“Sexual revolution my ass!” Peter snarled to Lana. “Why can’t someone like Emma Frost or Tigra get into porn—they love showing themselves off already! How come two-thirds of any cast I can put together can’t take this seriously? Ten to one she’s decided to visit her dealer, or go to a spa, or get her taint sunned, just assuming we’ll reschedule everything for her!”

Lori came over to commiserate with Peter, making it clear by her sympathy that his anxiety was no joke. As she’d later tell Lana, a delay in shooting could wipe out the nice little bonus the production would get from coming in on time and under budget. Carlie’s irresponsibility could be the difference between a healthy payday and people having to take out a second mortgage.

“Can’t you just skip the scene?” Lana suggested.

Peter shook his head. “I was contracted for an eighty minute movie. We’ve been editing as we shoot to save time. Everything we’ve got now puts us at just over an hour. We need a fifteen minute sex scene to tie together what we’ve already got. Even if I had another scene to replace this one with, I’d still have to find a girl with some starpower—not some dead-eyed Russian immigrant from the nearest strip club. Someone people want to see fuck, will pay top dollar to see fuck. And unfortunately for all of us, the boys upstairs love Carlie Cooper. Hell, some days I think they’d rather see her on film than Mary Jane Watson, even though she’s a supermodel and Carlie’s—“

“A crack whore?” Lana said.

“Yeah.”

“I think she’s more of a meth girl,” Lori said.