I stopped in my tracks, feeling foolish and uncomfortable in the center of the room.
'Would you mind answering a few questions before we get on with this, my dear?' he asked. 'No, not at all.' I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I tried folding them. That didn't work, and I finally let them hang at my sides. They felt very long and very heavy.
'What made you decide to answer my advertisement?' he asked.
He was talking about his ad in an L.A. sex paper. I was reading the Personal Column one day, and the ad caught my eye. I read it and called the number feted. I was told to leave my name and telephone number. About a half hour later, I received a call from a Mr. Harrison Miller, Mr. Burroughs' attorney, although I didn't know that at the time. Mr. Miller questioned me about the ad, testing my sincerity, I guess, and then he made an appointment to see me in person. I met him the next day, we talked about sexual matters, and he had a photographer take some naked photos of me. He paid me one hundred dollars and said he'd be in touch with me. A week went by, and then Mr. Miller called me again. He asked me if I was still interested in the ad. I said I was, and he gave me the name of Mr. Lawrence W. Burroughs, gave me this address, told me how to get here and when to come. He said I would receive a check in the mail the morning after I had come here for one thousand dollars. And that was it. 'The money, I guess,' I answered. 'The money.'
He shook his head, and I had the feeling it might fust roll from his shoulders if he moved it too rapidly. He made a tisking sound in the back of his throat.
'Just the money, my dear?' he asked. 'Surely that wasn't your only consideration.'
'Well, no. I guess it wasn't. I had… other reasons.'
'Such as, my dear?' he asked. He folded his hands in front of him, pressing his fingers against each other in a bridge. 'What would make such an attractive, young girl like yourself want to do something like this? Want to make you appear in an erotic-no, pornographic film?'
A tremor of sexual excitement went through me. It was really going to happen, I thought to myself. It was really going to happenl
I shrugged my shoulders. 'I don't know. Maybe I found the idea exciting. You know… sexually exciting.' 'And did you?'
I thought about it. 'Yes. Yes, I did. Very exciting, in a perverse sexual way. Maybe I'm an exhibitionirt at heart. Maybe all people are. But there just seemed to be something… very erotic, very senusal in knowing that you are going to appear in a pornographic film.'
He seemed pleased with my answer. 'He rubbed the side of his jaw with a trembling hand. 'Have you ever done anything like this before, Miss Bryant?'
'No, not exactly like this,' I explained. I told him frankly about the Geisha, and that too seemed, to please him. I left out the part about my being a prostitute, for I wasn't sure how he would react to that. Then, when I was finished, I added: 'To me this was a new experience, something IVe never done before. I enjoy trying new things.'
'You would say then that you have a strong, healthy sexual appetite?'
'I've never thought about it in that way, but I guess there's truth in what you say. I've always enjoyed sex very much.'
'Good, good!' he said. He hit the arm of his wheel chair for emphasis. 'Then you are a woman after my own heart. I, too, was a sensualist. I spent my whole life, my whole fortune in amassing every conceivable sexual experience. Look around you. At these books. The world's largest private erotic library. Every book a treasure.'
I looked around-me in amazement. Every book in the room: pornographic! It was hard to imagine.
'In my lifetime, my dear, I have made love to, seduced more women than ten men could in one hundred lifetimes. I have made love to queens, my dear. Royalty! Actresses, heiresses, the wives of ^millionaires. Some of the most beautiful women in the world. Some names, that if I would tell you, you would be shocked. Shocked.'
He sighed deeply, moving his hands weakly around in front of him in a helpless gesture.
'But,' he said, sadly, tiredly, 'no more. That part is over for me. Over for many many years. So now I make films, sexual films, and I watch others doing what I cannot. I find the most beautiful women in the world, women like yourself, and I couple them with men who are equipped with formidable sexual equipment. I film those coupling for myself, and I watch them, using their youthful passion to rekindle the final, dying ember of my own. Sexuality is a very solitary experience for me now. Very… lonely.'
He brushed aside his mood again, like any annoying fiy buzzing inside of his brain.
'Enough,' he said. 'Let us get on with the reason for your visit. If you would be so kind as to push me, my dear.' He indicated the wheel chair.
I felt sorry for him, and I moved to help him. 'Which way, Mr. Burroughs?'
Through that door, back down the hallway, and to the right. It's the first door.'
I followed his instructions, knocking on the door. It opened, and a young man in a blue demin shirt held it open for us. I pushed the wheel chair into the room.
I saw immediately the room was decorated like a motion picture studio. There were rows of bright lights above us, snakes of cabled wires littering the floors, and huge, professional movie cameras set up in strategic places in the room. There was a bed in the center of a spotlight, very brightly illuminated. I suspected that was my stage.
The man in the denim work shirt took Mr. Burroughs from me, and pushed the chair across the tangled floor to a position near the bed, but just outside of camera range. I wandered over to them and stood at his side.
'Forgive me, Sally,' the old man said. 'I forgot to introduce you. Sally Bryant, this is Lance Kemmel-man. Lance is our cameraman.' I said hello.
'I don't know whether you are a motion picture fan, Sally, but Lance here is a very famous Hollywood cameraman. He has already received an Academy Award for…' He named a very famous film that I had seen the previous year. It was a fantastic financial as well as artistic success. I remembered the film work vividly.
I was impressed and I think it showed. I think I said something inane.
Lance laughed, and the old man joined him. ‹sYou see, Sally,' Mr. Burroughs said, 'what you can do if you have money. There is almost nothing that you cannot buy.' Lance laughed. 'You should see some of the films 156 Mr. Burroughs has in his private vault. Films of world famous actors and actresses… performing for him for pay. Some of them Award winners.' He named an unbelievably well-known husband and wife team.
Mr. Burroughs waved his hand again. 'Enough, enough. Look, Billy is here already.'
I turned, and standing there, stark naked was a slender, blondhaired boy. I say boy because I'm sure he could not have been older than fifteen or sixteen. He had a slender, almost effeminate build, with thin arms and legs, flat stomach and ribs pushing through his gauntly pulled flesh. His body was completely hairless, even his pubic region, but that wasn't what made my breath suck in so deeply. It was the sight of his cock. It was longer and thicker than any organ I have ever seen in my life. I guessed that it had to be at least ten inches long. I found out later that it was closer to eleven inches in length.
I think my mouth must have dropped open, and I know that I felt an unmistakable throb in my cunt. My mouth went very dry, and I couldn't help staring at the fantastic organ. It looked like the end of a baseball bat.
Billy saw me staring, and he touched himself with his shallow hand. He caressed his mighty weapon, sliding his hand protectively, proudly up and down the endless pink shaft. He said: 'Hello.'
I answered him, I think, suddenly very frightened and envious. I ached to touch that colossal hardness, to see if it were real, and I hated his hand for the ease with which he fondled it. But my cunt was terrified. There was no way, no possible way that I could get that log inside of me without ripping me in two. 'Hello,' I finally answered. 'My God.'
Burroughs laughed, without any envy, and a sort of strange pride. I think he almost identified with Billy.
'It is impressive, isn't it?' he said. 'And more so because of his tender age. Billy's not yet sixteen, are you, lad?' Til be sixteen on November 9th,' she said.
Burroughs shook his head. 'Can you imagine, Sally, what Billy will be like when he has fully matured? Can you imagine that?'
I could hardly imagine it. I could hardly believe what I saw right in front of me. I was overwhelmed.
'Why don't you go over and touch it, Sally?' Burroughs suggested. 'Go ahead.'
