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Double Take, Part Five: Good Vibes, Big Apple free porn video
Double Take
© 2003 by Nom de Plume
Episode Five: Good Vibes, Big Apple
After two nights without sleep, Sandy was having trouble keeping his
eyes open as he drove down Santa Monica Boulevard towards the
Hollywood Hills. The evening rush was thinning out, but the surface
streets were still a better bet than the freeways, and he tried to
unwind with his favorite shock jock as he coped with the stop-and-go
traffic.
His cell phone rang. It was Ashley, asking him what time she should
expect him. "About forty minutes," he said as he stopped for another
red light.
"Take your time. I made an appointment to get my nails done in half
an hour. The coat I slapped on them after my night as your boyfriend
isn't making it."
Sandy smiled at the memory. "Call them back and make an appointment
for me, too."
"Why? Your nails look great."
"Not any more. Where's the salon? I'll meet you there." She gave
him the address. "Okay, I'll be there in half an hour."
"What are you wearing?"
"That skirt and sweater again."
"How sweet."
"You liked what it did for me last night." He laughed as she
whispered something obscene before they hung up.
Sandy's Audi had a manual transmission, and his short skirt kept
riding up his silky legs as he played with the clutch. He was
wearing Ashley's coed costume, except he had on a pair of sheer black
tights. The nylons he wore the night before had been torn to shreds
when Ashley undressed him on the sofa.
Sandy found the strip mall where the salon was located, and parked in
the lot. Ashley was just getting out of her car. She was dressed in
an identical outfit, only her skirt and sweater were a different
color than Sandy's, and her legs were bare. "What look are we going
for - 'The Olson's Go to College?'" he asked.
Ashley stuck out her tongue at him. "I always wanted a twin sister
and a sensitive boyfriend. Now you're both mine," she said as she
took his hand and led him into the salon.
* * *
Their nails restored, Ashley and Sandy walked hand-in-hand down
Sunset Boulevard, turning heads as they went. Not an easy thing to
do in West Hollywood, where celebrities rub shoulders daily with
specimens of every known lifestyle, and a few that have yet to be
classified.
As they strolled along, it occurred to Sandy that unless he planted a
kiss on her, it would be impossible for strangers to take them for
anything other than a fun pair of loving twins. Their close
resemblance was a natural antidote against their being mistaken for a
couple of lesbians.
At the same time, it occurred to Ashley that the presence of her
look-alike seemed to cloak her identity as the TV star Ashley Vaughn.
People weren't coming up to her for autographs like they usually did.
It was almost as if they could only see a pair of identical twins,
who happened to look like somebody famous.
As he glanced at their reflection in the shop windows, Sandy wondered
whether he would miss all this when his fantasy life with Ashley came
to an end, as it surely would some day. He was hopelessly in love
with a woman who shared his most secret desires. Magic like this
only happened in the movies.
And as she watched him maneuvering in a short skirt like he was born
to it, Ashley wondered how she had ever gotten along without Sandy
Lane in her life. It was wonderful having a soulmate who understood
the little things a woman had to put up with every day. Was this guy
perfect, or what?
They spied a Mexican restaurant with some quiet tables on an upstairs
terrace. Over margaritas and quesadillas, they caught up on their
days.
"Pay your mortgage?"
"Oops."
"Sweetheart, you're going to get your ass kicked out of there if you
can't remember to pay your bills."
"Then I'll have to move in with you."
"Will you cook for me every night?"
"If you let me pick out my own clothes."
"What happened to your nails?"
"Uh, I was fixing a ding in an old surfboard, and I got acetone all
over my hands."
"You're such a guy."
They chatted throughout the meal about nothing in particular, content
just to be with each other, sharing a special kind of bond that few
men and women will ever experience. While they were waiting for the
check, Ashley rubbed Sandy's tights under the table. She pressed her
head against his and whispered, "Let's fuck."
"Baby, you're gonna put me back in the hospital," Sandy sighed.
That night, they undressed each other slowly, lovingly, before they
fell naked into Ashley's bed. After the past two nights, Sandy
wasn't sure he had another orgasm left in him. He was about to
suggest that they call it a night when he heard Ashley opening the
drawer on her nightstand. There was a buzzing sound, and his penis
jumped when she started to massage his aching balls with her
vibrator.
As he began to stiffen, she slid the vibrator between his legs and
gently inserted it into his ass. Bit by bit, she eased it higher and
higher as they lay side by side. At the same time, she was coaxing
his weary penis back to life with her tender fingers. When he
started to groan, she pulled him on top of her and guided him in,
keeping up the pressure with the vibrator as she rocked back and
forth. When the tip of her vibrator grazed his prostate, he cried
out in ecstasy, and his whole body shuddered from the excruciating
waves of pleasure. Ashley cried out with him, lost in the throes of
her own multiple orgasms.
They lay together quietly for a long time, their hearts pounding in
unison as their panting slowly subsided. At that moment, there was
no distinction between man and woman. Sandy and Ashley were
absolutely, totally consumed by their love for one another. When
they finally fell asleep, he was still inside her.
For the first time since the death of Toby Goodfin, Sandy slept
soundly through the night, surrendering himself to his sweet dreams.
* * *
The studio wakeup service had to call Ashley's number twice before
she finally picked up the phone. Five o'clock in the morning! They
staggered out of bed and pulled themselves together for another day
on location at Lunada Bay. They dressed alike again, only this
morning they looked like refugees from a women's college on a
dateless weekend. Ashley ran into a Starbuck's to grab some coffee
for the drive across Los Angeles, and they sipped their lattes
contentedly as they drove to work together.
Two hours later, they emerged from the makeup trailer, drop-dead
gorgeous in their hot pink wetsuits. Sandy and Ashley never flirted
with one another on the set, their torrid romance a deeper Hollywood
secret than the sex of the surfer who did Pepper Reef's action
scenes. But today, it was hard for Sandy to keep his hands off her
when they were in the water together, out of sight of the cameras and
crew.
"I thought I wore you out last night," she said as she took his hand
off her ass. "Stop that!"
A shrill whistle pierced the air. They looked up to see Darla Palmer
waving at them from the rocky shore, looking out of place in her suit
and heels. Sandy and Ashley got on their surfboards and began to
paddle in.
Darla eyed them warily as they came out of the water. She knew
trouble when she saw it, and these two had trouble written all over
them. Just what the network needed: a secret love affair between
their hottest new star and her stunt double. God knew what would
happen if the tabloids got wind of it. What could be worse? The
innuendo that Ashley Vaughn was a closet lesbian, or the revelation
that her stunt double and secret lover was a closet crossdresser?
She waited until they dried themselves off and peeled off their
wetsuits. Dressed in matching sweats, they looked adorable as they
joined her in a small tent which had been set up at the base of the
bluff. "Coffee?" she asked as they sat down next to her in canvas
yacht chairs.
Both nodded yes, and she watched intently as they took their mugs and
sipped the hot coffee. Sandy Lane was a gifted mimic, and a natural
actor. If a person didn't know them, it would be impossible to tell
the man from the woman. "I wanted to bring you up to date on a new
direction that the show is going to be taking," she said at length.
The both looked at her expectantly as they sipped their coffee. "Our
ratings are still way up there, but they're starting to slip, and we
need to spice up the story line a bit. It's going to make things a
little crazy on the set, but it should be fun for both of you."
"What are you talking about?" Ashley asked. Or was it Sandy?
"We're going to be introducing a new character."
"What kind of character?" Sandy asked. Or was it Ashley?
"Pepper Reef has an identical twin sister."
"What?" they asked simultaneously.
"That's right. A citified, girly-girl who lives in New York. Her
named Coral."
"Coral Reef. Give me a break," one of them said.
"She's the brainy one. Pepper was always the tomboy. So Ashley is
going to play Coral, and Sandy is going to play Pepper. Coral will
have most of the lines. All Pepper has to do is look hot and surf
like a banshee."
The both had long faces. "Ashley, I'm surprised at you," Darla said,
still not sure which one of them was which. "This is a chance for
you to show some range."
"What about me?" Sandy said, finally spoiling the game. "I signed up
to surf, not to play the dumbo in a sister act."
"That's what worries me," Ashley broke in. "I've worked hard to make
Pepper Reef credible. It hasn't been easy with the crap your writers
are turning out."
"Well, you're going to love the next episode. Pepper saves Coral
from a freak tidal wave that strikes New York."
"That's ludicrous!"
"No more than Mitch performing open-heart surgery on a surfboard on
Baywatch. People are still talking about that episode."
"Still laughing at it, you mean. What if we refuse?"
Sandy answered for her. "I know, I know...read our contracts."
Darla got up to leave. "This is a huge opportunity for us to
penetrate the New York market, so you'd better get with the program.
We're on location in Manhattan next week."
* * *
Sandy and Ashley paused to look up at the Christmas tree at
Rockefeller Center, lost in love. They were just like hundreds of
other couples passing under the majestic boughs of the brilliantly
lit Norway spruce, with one little difference.
Once again Grace had performed a miracle, for Ashley this time. She
was very distinguished with her straight nose and rakish mustache.
With lifts in her Gucci loafers, a man's brown wig, and padded
shoulders on her Armani suit, Ashley Vaughn was tall, dark and
handsome. Her crisp white shirt and Hermes tie peeked above the
lapels of her black cashmere topcoat. A $100 tip to the head of the
costume department had worked wonders.
As for Sandy, he was radiant in the same little black dress he had
worn during his love scene with Randy Romaine. His white fox jacket
drew angry stares from animal rights activists, but that was their
problem. His only problem was the cold wind blowing through the
concrete canyons of midtown Manhattan. When Sandy surfed the waters
of Alaska, he was never near this cold. His legs were purple under
his sheer black stockings as the wind whipped his dress around his
knees.
No matter. Just one of the many joys of being a woman, he said to
himself as he tottered along beside Ashley in his high heels. They
window shopped in front of Saks Fifth Avenue, like all the other
tourists, before they started walking through the busy sidewalks
towards a French restaurant in the theater district. They had to
hurry to make sure they would be finished with dinner in time for
their Broadway show.
When they entered the exclusive restaurant, Ashley took Sandy's coat
and handed it to the check girl. A murmur swept through the elegant
clientele as they were shown to their booth. "That's Ashley Vaughn.
You know, the TV star." Ashley beamed while Sandy stopped to sign an
autograph for a nervous high school girl at a nearby table.
Ashley ordered for both of them, Martinis to start, and then a bottle
of expensive Champagne to accompany their five course dinners. Sandy
just kicked back and went with the flow, reveling in the sensations
of being a pretty girl out on the town. Flickering candles danced in
their eyes as they shared their fantastic secret. When Ashley
reached under the table and put her hand on Sandy's knee, he slid it
all the way up his silky thigh, a hint of things to come that night.
* * *
They slept past noon at their suite at the Waldorf Towers, utterly
sated from the most spectacular night of their lives. Again and
again, Sandy and Ashley had come together in shattering orgasms that
took them both to places they had never been.
It was Sandy's turn to put on the nose and mustache that morning.
They had one more free day before shooting began on the tidal wave
episode, and Sandy told Ashley he wanted to take her Christmas
shopping. She was content to let him be the guy today, and it
excited her to see him as a handsome man for the first time.
Someday, maybe...
After a room service breakfast, Sandy and Ashley walked along Fifth
Avenue, holding hands as they made their way through the bustling
crowds in the brisk December air. Sandy wore a turtleneck under
Ashley's Armani suit, while she had on a jacket, pants and high
leather boots. With her sunglasses and beret, she was unrecognizable
as a Hollywood star, and she was enjoying her anonymity and wondering
what to get him for Christmas when he pushed her through the brass
doors of Tiffany's.
"What are we doing here?"
Sandy led her over to the cases full of engagement rings. "What do
you thin?" he said. She was trembling as he pointed out a two carat
diamond in a Tiffany setting and asked a salesman to get it out for
them. He slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly.
Sandy dropped to his knee and reached up for her hand. "Ashley
Vaughn, will you marry me?" The customers and sales personnel burst
into spontaneous applause as she dragged him to his feet and hugged
him, crying, "Yes! Yes!"
He kissed her passionately, as if they were the only two people in
the world. "Merry Christmas," he said gently.
"Oh Sandy, I haven't gotten you anything yet," she cried.
He wiped a tear from her eye. "All I want is more batteries for your
vibrator."
The salesman raised an eyebrow. "Shall I wrap it up for you, or
would you like to wear it?" he asked discreetly.
"I'll wear it. But first, let me try something." She slipped the
ring off her finger, and tried sliding it onto the ring finger of
Sandy's left hand. With an effort, she got it over the knuckle.
"You never know," she said as she pulled it back off. "I might feel
like wearing the pants again some day."
The salesman didn't bat an eye as she slipped the diamond back on her
finger. That's what he loved about New York. Just when you though
you had seen everything...
* * *
Back at the Waldorf, Ashley and Sandy lounged on the sofa in the
parlor of their suite. After sharing a room service dinner and a hot
bath, they wore nothing but the Towers' signature terrycloth
bathrobes. Ashley's head was on Sandy's lap as they read through
tomorrow's script together:
1. Int. Day. Oscar's at the Waldorf. Marketing executive
CORAL REEF, dressed in a severe black suit, is sitting in a booth,
studying The New York Times. A headline on the first page reads
"UNUSUAL SEISMIC ACTIVITY OFF COAST OF NEWFOUNDLAND". Her identical
twin sister PEPPER REEF, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, joins
her.
CORAL (pouring skim milk into her muesli)
You're late.
PEPPER
What a hassle! How can you live here?
CORAL
What's the matter? Couldn't find a place to park your skateboard?
"God, this is so lame!" Ashley sighed as she turned the page.
"At least we get to go back to California for the water scenes."
For the hundredth time, Ashley held up her hand and admired her ring.
"I'm gonna hate having to take this off tomorrow."
"Won't be for long"
"What do you mean?"
"Wet Girls as about to jump the shark."
"Huh?"
"Remember that scene on Happy Days when The Fonz jumped over a shark
on water skis? The show never recovered. Same thing's gonna happen
after this episode."
* * *
Lieutenant Goering and his teenage daughter sat on the edge of their
chairs in front of the television in their family room. Pepper and
Coral were riding tandem on a longboard through Central Park, dodging
the tops of trees as they dropped down the face of a fifty foot wave.
"Yes!" his daughter shouted as they shot out of the tube and rode the
tsunami towards New Jersey, their skimpy dresses clinging to their
wet bodies.
"How did they do that?" the lieutenant asked.
"Special effects, Daddy. They really aren't surfing in New York."
"I know that. But there are two of them. They must really be
identical twins," he said as the incredible possibility slowly
registered.
"Oh Daddy," she sighed. "They just morphed Ashley Vaughn's face onto
some other girl's body."
"They can do that?"
"Sure. Remember the end of Jurassic Park, when the raptor almost ate
the little girl? That was a gymnast, and they morphed the girl's
face right onto her."
"Oh."
After she left to do her homework, the lieutenant pondered in silence
for some time. Could it possibly be? Could one of them have
committed the perfect murder, while the other one provided the
perfect alibi?
Nah, he said to himself as he switched on the Lakers game. That sort
of thing only happens in TV land.
To be continued? Let the readers decide...
By the author of The Jessica Project,
www.geocities.com/thejessicaproject/author
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