The Seduction – Chapter 1

I wrote this a while back, and passed it by Rob before publishing it on the previous site, so I know it’s okay to republish it here. Hope you all enjoy it.

THE SEDUCTION
CHAPTER 1
C 2002 JoJo

Sex was a problem from the beginning of our relationship – he wanted it, I didn’t.

“But I have sex with all my leading ladies!” he said with a note of grievance in his voice.

“Yes, I know. But I’m not one of your leading ladies. I’m Jenny Carmichael, your biographer, remember?”

Richard Bradley, stage and screen idol, winner of not one but two Oscars, wasn’t used to getting rejected. His next question surprised me.

“How come you know I have sex with all my leading ladies?”

“Well, how do you think I know?”

“Are you telling me you’ve actually interviewed some of my past leading ladies?”

“Not some – I’ve interviewed all of them.”

“My God, you are thorough aren’t you?’

I straightened a pleat in my skirt. “I try to be.”

He coughed. “What did they tell you about my … er … technique?”

“Well, some of them told me you were so hot under the sheets it was a wonder they didn’t spontaneously burst into flames, I believe one of them referred to you as a real ‘stud bug’ (whatever that means) and others compared you to a cross between Don Juan and Casanova, only better. Only one of them expressed … dissatisfaction!”

“Who was that?” he demanded, filled with indignation.

“Sorry, I can’t reveal my sources, but then you know that. I think that with a track record like yours, of REALLY pleasing the ladies, you shouldn’t have to worry about one … er … dare I say it? … flop!”

He looked pleased, and preened like a peacock. “Hey, you’re right! Anyhow, must’ve been that one time when I’d had too much to drink and wasn’t up to par! Can’t even remember who she was!” He paused, then added “Well, there you are – see what you’re missing! So why won’t you go to bed with me?”

“Because I’m frigid.” I said, thinking this would put a stop to all his questions.

I’d managed to surprise him. He looked stunned and disbelieving. “You’re putting me on, aren’t you? You’re just saying this as an excuse for rejecting my advances.”

I crossed my arms and sighed. “No, I’m afraid it’s perfectly true. I’m frigid – cold as the inside of a refrigerator.”

There was a long silence while he digested this information.

“I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a frigid woman – only a man who doesn’t know how to turn her on!”

“Really?” I yawned, looking (I hope) unimpressed.

“Yes, really. Give me an hour and a half, and I’d have you humming like the G string on a guitar.”

“An hour and a half? My God, maybe your leading ladies weren’t exaggerating when they claimed you had incredible staying powers.”

“They said that?” he said with a smirk. “Well, they’re right! I believe in giving my sexual partners value for their money.”

“Don’t tell me they actually PAY you for your services?”

He frowned. “Of course not – that was just a figure of speech!”

“Listen, I’m supposed to be interviewing you – not the other way around. Let’s start at the beginning. Where were you born?”

“Oh come on,” he sputtered. “If you’ve done your homework, you know damn well where I was born, the date, the time and …” he paused for greater effect “You even know how many hours my mother was in labour.”

“Twenty six, long, painful hours,” I leaned back and crossed my legs.

“Oh my God – you’ve spoken to Mother.”

“Yes, well like I said – I like to be …”

“…thorough, ” he finished the sentence. “Yes, I know.” He lowered his head onto his hands and groaned. “Shit, I’ve heard it all my life.” His voice became a high pitched imitation of his mother’s. “Richard, I had meself six babies before you came along, and they all popped out quick and easy, like olives out of a jar, but not you, oh dear me no, I endured twenty six, long, painful hours before you decided to be born – and you’ve given me nothing but trouble ever since!”

I laughed.

“You think that’s funny? Believe me, she meant every word! She was so pissed off over my birth, she never let Dad touch her again!”

This was interesting stuff – I took down some notes.

“Say, you’re not going to write that in my biography?” he asked anxiously.

“Trust me, your fans will love to read this – it’s the kind of background information that will make you seem … real and human to women all over the world. They’ll all be aching to mother you to death and give you the maternal love you obviously didn’t have at home.”

He brightened visibly. “Hey, I didn’t think of that angle! I must remember to use it next time I get a lady into bed!”

“If she gets into bed with you, she ain’t no lady,” I replied primly.

“Gee, you really are frigid aren’t you?” I thought I heard a note of admiration in his voice, and it made me squirm.

“Say, you aren’t a virgin, saving yourself for marriage and all that crap – are you?”

“No,” I hotly retorted. “I can assure you I’m NOT a virgin!”

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you only had one lover then, and he was a lousy one at that who put you off sex for life. That’s it, isn’t it?”

I winced. “No, there were three of them – three,” I whispered.

He rushed over and put his arm around my shoulders. “Oh dear God, you were raped, weren’t you?”

I hung my head and fought back tears then I shrugged his arm off, got up and walked over to the sofa. “Listen, I’m here to interview you, and I resent you turning the tables on me and prying into my personal affairs which are none of your business.”

He looked contrite. “Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Go ahead and ask me questions.”

I took a deep breath to compose myself. “Now, where did you go to school?”

“Give me a break,” he snorted. “I don’t want to talk about school!”

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I want to talk about my sex life!”

I sighed. “Why aren’t I surprised? Okay, how old were you when you had your first sexual experience?”

He grinned. “That’s better. I was thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” I squawked. “That’s impossible!”

“Believe me, it was perfectly possible. Mary Lou Timmins gave me a blow job behind some bushes after school.”

“How old was she?”

“Sixteen.”

“That’s statutory rape!” I cried.

“No, it was just a blow job!”

“Did you boast about it after to the other guys?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Too honourable, eh?”

“Shit no. I kinda hoped she’d do it again, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have had I bragged about it.”

“So, did she ? … do it again?”

“No, she never gave me another blow job – from then on, we just went all the way! I owe a lot to Mary Lou – what she didn’t know about sex would fit on the head of a pin! You know they say, don’t you?”

“No, I can’t say I do, but doubtless you’re going to tell me.” I sighed.

“Yes, well they say that behind every good male lover, are women who showed him how! Like I said, I owe a lot to Mary Lou.”

“I hope she feels the same way about you.”

“You can bet your great pair of … legs, she does.” He grinned.

“Good heavens,” I muttered feebly, feeling disconcerted that he’d noticed my legs and not being sure how to respond to his remark. I got up trying to act brisk and matter of fact. “Well, I’ve got enough here to be getting on with. When are you free for our next … er … interview?”

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