Tucker's Studio Ch. 09

I have a whole series of these stories written. They work pretty well as stand alone stories, all revolving around Tucker Sims and his porn studio, but some things will make more sense if you read them in the order they were posted. I hope you enjoy them. As usual, the people and places are fictional. All characters are over eighteen.

———————

Ginger and the Paperboy

"Nancy? Can you come over? There's something I need to show you."

Linda reached for the keyboard on her laptop as she put her phone down. She clicked the volume key a few times and the sound of sex joined the crisp, high definition video image on the screen...

"Bad girls need to be fucked!" the girl sighed. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

An older man was fucking her hard, his body slap slap slapping against her young ass from behind.

"Oh yeah! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she cried. "Oh God yes!"

—

Ten minutes later Nancy walked across the quiet suburban street, coffee mug in hand, to her best friend's house. She went in through Linda's garage, into the kitchen, like she always did.

"Hi Lin. What's up?" she said when she saw Linda sitting at the table. She could hear the sex sounds coming from the computer. It took a moment for it to register, because it was so surprising.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking shocked.

"I know. This isn't like me, but...well...look at this. Does he look familiar?"

Linda turned the laptop around so Nancy could see the wild fucking.

"Lin! What the...!" Nancy said as she slowly sat down in a chair. "You watch this stuff?"

"Sometimes," Linda said sheepishly. "That's not important. Look at him. His face. Think."

Nancy watched. Linda watched her eyes dance around the screen, taking in all the wild action.

"His face Nancy. His face."

Nancy held her gaze on the man's perspiring face, trying to see what Linda had seen. She shook her head.

"I don't know. What am I supposed to see? Who is he?"

"Think back. From the neighborhood. Who used to deliver our newspaper?"

"Our newspaper?" Nancy said. "Have you been drinking?"

"Forty years ago. When we first moved here."

"David Jenson!" Nancy said quietly, like she could hardly believe it. "Oh my God! It can't be...can it?"

David was a good looking boy of about fifteen when he had his paper route. Nancy and Linda were young wives, new to the neighborhood at the time. The two women, both in their twenties, quickly became friends, and often giggled together about the handsome young boy who came into their kitchens when he did his weekly fee collecting. When he turned sixteen he got a better job, but they saw him around quite a bit as his body filled out and he became a man, and they knew his mother.

"I think it's him," Linda said. "Even the voice fits. Remember what his father sounded like?"

"Oh my God!" Nancy said as she continued to watch the wild action, slowly realizing Linda was right. "David Jenson! How did you find...what are you, a porn watcher now?"

"I guess so," Linda said. "I never thought I'd be admitting that to anybody. You don't?"

"No, I don't," Nancy said, still watching the action. "But God almighty, maybe I should! Is there more of him? What is this place?"

"It's a website called Tucker's Studio. Lot's of amateur stuff."

"What do you mean? Like homemade? This doesn't look homemade."

"No, like the girls are amateurs. That's what it's supposed to be anyway. I don't know if they really are."

"So he's...a pro? You think? Oh my God. Do you think his mother knows? What's her name...Brenda?"

"Yeah, Brenda. I haven't seen her in years, but she still lives over on Maple I think. She's probably in her eighties now, right?"

"God, he so..." Nancy said as she watched him bring the girl to a shattering orgasm. "Jesus!"

Nancy and Linda fell silent as they watched 'Daddy McQueen' mold the girl into another position and plunge his big cock in for more.

———————

Linda spent the whole afternoon in front of her computer, doing searches, watching porn. The searches were for more Daddy McQueen content, but they came up empty. The two videos at the Tucker's Studio website seemed to be all there was of him. They were both recent, posted within the last month. There was nothing on the website about where Tucker's Studio was located, but there was a 'Contact Us' link. Linda clicked it. A message box appeared to type a question or comment into. She sat and looked at it, blank, with a flashing cursor egging her on.

I'd like to contact Daddy McQueen, she typed, and then she backed up the cursor, deleting what she'd written. She started over. I guess this is fan mail. I was watching Daddy McQueen. Where is he from? she typed. She sat and stared at it for a minute. She had to make up a name for herself. She'd come across an old rerun of Gilligan's Island on TV the other day and was amazed at the sexiness of Ginger. Way back in the day there was the "Ginger or Mary Ann" thing. Linda was a Mary Ann, but always wished she was a Ginger. So that was it, she signed her name Ginger, typed in her email address and hit send, quickly, before she overthought it. Her heart pounded as she looked at the screen...

Thank you for contacting T.S. Productions. We'll get back to you soon.

T.S. Productions. I could google that, she thought, and she did. There were quite a few hits relating to it, most about some awards won at an adult video awards show. She read one of the articles and was shocked when she learned T.S. Productions was in her city. There was a picture of Tucker Sims, dressed in a nice suit accepting an award. He didn't look sleazy, she thought. A nice looking young man, with a genuine smile. There was another picture of him, and one of Donna Deeper and Dickie Biggers, accepting another award. They look different with clothes on, Linda thought, all dressed for a fancy night out.

So that was it. As she scanned the google hits for more information she realized that yes, it had to be David Jenson in those videos. He must still be living around the city somewhere, and he was making at least a little porn, right there in her hometown! The revelation drove her heart rate even higher, and she suddenly realized her fingers were inside her stretchy yoga pants, playing with her hairy pussy!

"God! What is going on?" she said quietly to herself. "Get a grip girl!"

—

The next morning there was an email in her in-box from T.S. Productions. She didn't click on it. She got up and went to refill her coffee, and then stood next to her chair, nervously wondering what it might say.

"This is crazy. Open it you old fool!" she said to herself. She sat down and clicked on it.

Thanks for contacting us Ginger, and for your interest in Daddy McQueen. I'm afraid we can't give out personal information about our performers. I'd be happy to discuss you doing a scene with him, if that's something you'd like to consider.

Thanks for watching,

Tucker Sims

T.S.Productions

"Good Lord!" Linda said, loud enough to wake her sleeping cat.

Her coffee had cooled off by the time she stopped staring at the email. She took a deep breath, got up, and started in on her daily chores.

———————

The next day was Friday. Linda had a standing invitation to Friday dinner at Nancy's house, ever since her husband was killed way back in the Gulf War. She didn't go every week, but she enjoyed Nancy and her husband Bill's conversation, and she felt like she needed to clear her head from all the 'paper boy porn star' thoughts, so she walked over at six o'clock, bottle of wine in hand.

"Ooo! Big bottle this time!" Nancy said, smiling as she greeted Linda.

"It was on sale. You know how I like the cheap stuff," Linda laughed.

The dinner was pleasant. Bill had work to do for a presentation at the office the next morning, so after dessert he went to his study and the girls hit the wine harder than usual. They got giggly talking about paper boys and lawn boys, wondering what they'd do with their lives when they grew up.

"I still can't believe that's David," Nancy said.

"It is. I'm sure of it," Linda said. "I did a little more sleuthing. It's him."

"It's so crazy, isn't it?" Nancy said. "But I guess people do crazy stuff these days. Do you think he's married? I doubt it, if he's doing that."

"Yeah, I don't know. He's awfully good looking, but then he always was," Linda said. "I wonder...do you think he was built like that...you know...when he was doing the paper route?"

"You mean when he was way too young for us to be thinking about?" Nancy laughed.

"Yeah. I remember...thinking about him. Inappropriately."

"He didn't even have his driving license, so he was probably fifteen! But yeah, I thought about him too. We were so bad! But he was mature looking for his age, and we were young...ish."

"Yeah. And now, he looks so good compared to most of the fat bellies out there."

"There's a fat guy who does porn. I saw a story about him on the TV."

The girls giggled. It was the first time they'd ever talked about porn. Nancy didn't watch it, but Linda did, off and on, ever since she got her laptop a few years ago. She'd always felt really guilty about it, but laughing with Nancy about it helped her to feel more comfortable about her 'bad habit'.

The conversation shifted to what their friends were up too, and another neighbor's divorce. After they'd both had one too many glasses of wine Linda walked home, glad she didn't have to drive.

It didn't take long for her to open up her laptop and re-watch the two Daddy McQueen videos. She was breathing hard and was horny as hell when they finished.

"Good God, what are you up too David Jenson?" she said, petting the purring cat curled up in her lap.

She clicked on her email and stared at the one from Tucker. There's no harm in being curious, she thought, and it's not like he knows who 'Ginger' is. She clicked reply and started typing...

Dear Mr. Sims,

Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I apologize for asking for personal information. That was stupid of me. It's just that Mr. McQueen caught my interest, and there's just the two videos of him. Does he work regularly for you? You mentioned doing a scene with him. As intriguing as that sounds, I'm sure I couldn't. I'm 63, and I know you have women my age on your site, but as far as me, well, it just seems...well, you know. I'm sure you've heard all the excuses before. Thank you again for replying, and I'm sorry if I'm taking up your time. Give my best to Mr. McQueen. Please tell him he has a fan out in the suburbs.

Ginger

Linda read it over ten or more times. Finally, when her mind was completely mixed up with wine and excitement and confusion, she hit the send button. Fifteen minutes later, when she was watching another video on Tucker's website — a fifty-something woman with Mitch's huge cock in her mouth — her email in-box chimed. A jolt of adrenaline hit her when she saw it was from Tucker.

Hi Ginger,

Please call me Tucker, Mr. Sims is my father, and he's in a much more boring business. I will absolutely tell Mr. McQueen (we just call him Daddy around here) he has a fan in the 'burbs. I'm always happy to know there's local women watching our content.

As far as the idea of you joining us to have some amateur fun, yes, I have heard lots of excuses from women and men who couldn't quite get themselves to do it. But I must tell you, in all honesty, the ones who do it have the time of their lives. I'm guessing you can tell that from watching the videos. And your age shouldn't worry you. It certainly wouldn't worry us. Please think about stopping in for a tour. We are in the Warehouse District downtown, and I've been told many times, "Gee, this place isn't sleazy at all." I'd love to show you around.

Take care Ginger,

Tucker Sims

Linda was astonished. Crazy, crazy, crazy!, she thought. There she was, listening to the sound of an older woman being fucked by a gorgeous younger man, while she was corresponding with the man who made it happen. Nutty! And he was asking her to be next! As long as there was wine in her she knew she was in grave danger of doing the wrong thing, so she shut her laptop and walked away from it. Twenty minutes later she was back. She re-read the email, four or five times, but fought her instinct to reply. Instead she searched for more amateur porn, finding very little around the web that intrigued her as much as Tucker's. Before she knew it it was three in the morning. She walked groggily to bed and slept soundly.

———————

Morning's were Linda's favorite time of day. Even with too much wine and a short night's sleep she was up early. Newly retired, she loved having her days free to work in the garden, and she was a member of the community garden club as well, helping to maintain a small park, and some flower beds at the entrances to her suburban neighborhood. One of those beds needed weeding, the one up on the main road that she hadn't worked on before, so she put her kneeling pad, some tools and a plastic bin in her car and drove over to it.

It was a warm, late summer day. Linda wore a t-shirt and stretch-cotton capri pants. They were pants she used to wear to yoga class, but they'd gotten old so she wore them for gardening. In her own semi-private yard she never thought about it too much, but on that day, in the golden morning sunlight, she was amazed by what was happening.

She was on her hands and knees, pulling weeds with her backside facing a busy four-lane road. A horn honked. And then another. At first she didn't put two and two together, but then a man yelled something out his window as he passed. She couldn't make out what he said, but she looked over her shoulder and knew the look on his face.

My ass! Oh my god! They're honking at me!

She blushed and quickly turned, hiding herself as best she could. Her nipples were hard, so she hid those too, even though she was sure no one could see them.

"What an idiot," she muttered to herself. "I'm daydreaming about making porn and I'm embarrassed fully dressed next to a busy road."

She looked between her legs and realized just how tight and thin the old yoga pants had gotten. You could clearly see the old camel toe, even though Linda didn't know what it was called. Oh my God, she thought to herself, what does it look like from the back when I'm on my knees!

She thought it through. She could take a few minutes to go home and change, or she could show off. Other women do it, although they're usually younger. The men driving by obviously liked it or they wouldn't have been making spectacles of themselves like they were. It's a long way from making porn, but hey, it's something. And that adrenaline felt kind of good when she saw that guy looking. He was young too! Looking back over her shoulder at him was just what that girl was doing when David was fucking her from behind. More adrenaline coursed through her when that little thought rolled through her brain.

She stood up and pulled her t-shirt down tight. The thin bra wasn't doing much to hide those big nipples, now that she thought about it. She could never go in the grocery store knowingly looking that way, but maybe she had! It was her favorite bra lately because it was so comfortable. Oh my, time to re-think things!

Another horn honked, and she was just standing there. Okay, she thought, I'm too old for this to be happening to me. Why am I dressed like this? Was it subconscious, coming up here to the main road like this, because of the whole porn thing? Am I gardening or am I showing off? And what does a sixty-three-year-old woman have to show off anyway?

Linda took a deep breath, got down on her hands and knees and pulled weeds. She couldn't see it, but an extraordinarily well defined camel toe and a beautiful looking ass was greeting all the passing cars. As she worked horns honked and men cat-called. Linda smiled.

———————

Twenty-four hours had gone by since Tuckers last email. It had been a fascinating day for Linda. A morning of showing off by the main road, followed by an afternoon of showing off in her front yard. She had felt so alive after all the ass waging and horn honking, she went home, had some lunch, took off the bra that was under the little t-shirt — it was making her sweat was the argument she used in her head — and gardened all afternoon in her front yard, waving at the neighborhood men that passed by. A quiet dinner with a glass of wine, and then another glass of wine, and then the computer was switched on for an hour of porn before bed. David Jenson porn. She couldn't stop herself from watching it.

After her newly discovered excitement at showing off all day she was extra horny when she watched David do his thing, and she masturbated. Right there in her comfy living room chair, she rubbed her pussy 'till she came. She moaned and groaned so much it agitated the cat.

Dear Tucker,

I've been thinking it over. I'm still far from ready to make a commitment, but I might like to visit your studio, just to satisfy my curiosity. Would that be possible?

Ginger

She sat quietly, reading the little email message over and over before she sent it, the laptop covering the big wet spot on the fresh yoga pants she was wearing. Pressing the send button felt like a big deal, and her mind flip-flopped in ten different directions before she did it. After the message flew off into the cloud she closed the lid and put her porn machine to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.

———————

"I want it shorter, and red. Bright, flashy red, but natural looking. Have you ever seen Gilligan's Island?"

"Wow! What's gotten into you!" the hairdresser said. "You haven't changed your cut since I've known you, or the color."

"I know," Linda said. "It's been the same since the seventies. I don't want to look like that anymore."

"Good for you," the woman said. She handed Linda a book of hairstyles. "Here, look through this for a few minutes. See if anything jumps out at you."

Linda was overwhelmed with all the choices. When her stylist came back she closed the book.

"Can't you just do what looks good? Shorter, and red?"

"How about this," the woman said, opening the book to a picture of Jennifer Lawrence. "It's a long bob, with some soft curl, like sexy bedhead. It's all the rage right now. I think your hair's perfect for it, and in red it'll be killer."

"It's not too young for me?"

"Nope. With your body you can definitely pull it off."

"Do it," Linda said.

Two hours later she looked like a new woman, which was just what she wanted. If she turned out to be insane enough to go through with anything at Tucker's Studio, she didn't want to be instantly recognizable as Linda Smithson. She was going to be Ginger, and in Linda's mind Ginger was a perky redhead.

"Try pink lipstick, and gray eye makeup with those icy blues of yours," the stylist said when she was admiring her work in the mirror. "You'll knock 'em dead."

———————

"Come on in Ginger," Tucker said through the intercom.

The big yellow door buzzed and she walked in. Her heart was pounding and she wasn't sure how her feet were working, but she seemed to me moving down the hall.

"Ginger, hi! I'm Tucker," he said, extending his hand as he walked out of his office. "I'm so glad you decided to come have a look-see. I call this my fantasy factory."

"Well thanks for...inviting me," Linda said, her voice slightly shaky from her nerves. "It seemed like too interesting of an opportunity to pass up. I never would have though you were here, just ten miles from home."

"Yeah, a lot of people say that. We try and keep things under the radar, so if you could do me the favor of not telling too many people I'd appreciate it."