While Natalia and her minions worked on redecorating, Janique reviewed the existing footage to determine how much usable video she had so far. It was hot stuff, for sure. Mia and Gia were naturals on camera, and had been proven to do pretty much anything. Lateesha's bathroom sodomy was an intense vignette, but had only lasted about twenty minutes or so.
Still, she had about three hours of footage, all told. Enough to advance her plans, she decided, but she needed more. Janique realized that the spontaneous nature of the encounters were part of what made them so enticing, and set about devising more scenarios.
But before she could move forward, there was business to attend to. Always business. She loved the act of creation, and enjoyed being hands-on, but had decided that she needed to offload as much of the day to day drudgery as possible. Too much of her energy was being diverted to the details of running things, and interfered with her art.
She walked into Janice's office, and the receptionist (office manager, she reminded herself) quickly put away the yellow legal pad she was writing on.
“Hey, Janice. Whatcha doin'?”
“Oh, just some creative writing. For a little critique circle I'm a part of.”
“Cool!. Looks, I think we need nametags and business cards. Do you have a printer you can recommend?”
“Indeed, madame.” Janice consulted her personal Dayrunner and wrote down the name and address of a company she used for manuscripts. “Romeo should be able to provide anything you need.”
“Romeo? That's hilarious.”
“Oh, it gets better. I won't spoil it for you.”
“Perfection Printing. Nice. In Beverly Hills, no less.”
“They do a lot of high-end business work. Business cards are his specialty. He also does run-offs of scripts for a lot of major studios.”
“Excellent. I'm going to work out exactly what I need, and then take the girls on a little field trip.”
“Do you need anything from me while you're away?”
“Oh, just keep an eye on Natalia. Don't let her smoke in the office.”
Janice smiled. “I don't think that will be a problem.”
Janique returned to her desk and began to work out what her cards needed on them. A smile crossed her own face when she came up with the phrase “Private Independent Movie Producer”. P.I.M.P. She loved it. The fact that she had started a completely legal escort service wasn't enough. She wanted to run the authorities' noses in it.
She went through the racks of her own costumes and selected three schoolgirl outfits for Mia, Gia, and Lateesha, and one for herself that suggested a principal or headmaster.
Janique found them involved in the process of setting up their bedroom, and distracting Natalia's movers tremendously.
“Get dressed,” she told them. “We're going shopping.”
The girls squealed with delight.
“And leave your panties and bras here,” she added.
She changed with them, and the sight of all that firm young flesh made her indescribably horny. The schoolgirl outfits from Japan only heightened the effect. One advantage she had in sticking with a particular body type, so far, was that all of her many outfits fit the girls as well. Lateesha's exaggerated tits and ass strained the limits of the fabric, however.
They changed heedless to the workmen coming in out of the room, each of whom suddenly found reason to stay and aimlessly move boxes around. Only Natalia had returned to the truck.
“Line up and touch your toes,” she told the girls.
When they had, she flipped their skirts up, exposing their bare asses. One of the workers dropped a lamp he was holding, and it shattered.
“Idiot!” Natalia screamed as she walked in. Realizing what the problem was, she said, “Get out!” and her hired hands reluctantly left the room. She stayed to watch, however.
The girls, with Lateesha in the middle, forming a reverse Oreo, widened their stances to keep their balance as Janique slapped each of their asses hard enough to leave bright red hand prints.
“Thank you, mommy,” they responded.
Then she knelt behind them and passed her tongue up and down their exposed pussies and asses, relishing the scent as they grew increasingly wet. It was so intoxicating, it almost turned into a scene right there. She stopped herself with some reluctance before it did, and made a mental note to someday develop a perfume that smelled like pussy, After “Still Life With Woodpecker”, Chris had read “Jitterbug Perfume” to her, igniting a love of fragrances that had persisted ever since.
Finally, she replaced their too-short skirts and told them to stand. Janique smiled at a stunned Natalia as they walked out.
Outside, Janique hailed a cab, and two of them screeched to a halt at the sight of them. Nice, she thought, and selected one based on the appeal of the driver. She opened the back door, and the girls piled in.
“Can I ride in front?” she asked.
“Lady, you can do whatever you want,” he said, and tripped over himself as he got out to open her door.
When he had returned to the driver's seat, Janique said, “Beverly Hills, and step on it.” She had always wanted to say that.
In the back, the girls had assumed the same formation as they had upstairs, and couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Each of the twins was taking turns kissing Lateesha as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Janique watched with interest, and fired up a Marlboro. She noticed the driver's momentary discomfort and rolled down her window.
“Problem?” she asked.
“No, ma'am,” he said. “I mean, technically, they're supposed to wear seatbelts, and no one is allowed in front, either. But...” He glanced in the back and realized what was happening, losing his train of thought.
“Hey!” Janique said, and the girls snapped to attention. “No orgasms.”
They laughed and went back to what they were doing. After that, the driver had trouble focusing, and his eyes kept moving from Janique to the rearview mirror. When his inattention to driving caused him to run a stoplight, she took his hand and put it in her pants.
“Eyes on the road,” she said.
He nodded vigorously, and after that, his driving was as excellent as his fingerwork. I love my life, Janique thought. She couldn't help but be reminded of “Even Cowgirls Get The Blues”. It was just a Tom Robbins sort of day.
They slowed down as they entered Beverly Hills and made their way to Rodeo Drive. Janique realized he was trying to drag out the trip, but she could hardly blame him. She was so wet, she had to force herself not to cum, as well.
She was thinking about Chris.
They had spent a lot of time on the highway with Janique's legs up on the dashboard, her tits out for passing truckers. More than once they had caused massive slowdowns and traffic snarls as drivers tried to keep her in sight.
At the printer's, she had to remove his hand herself. Without a hint of self-consciousness, he rubbed it all over his mouth and mustache. He's be smelling her for the rest of the afternoon. Then he reached for his wallet and tried to hand her sixty dollars.
“Don't be silly,” she said, handing him a hundred of her own, instead. The business side of her wanted to turn a profit, but she was too sympathetic to the plight of working people to allow herself to do that. “Thanks, sweetie. We make movies. Ultimate Hustle. Remember the name.” She almost added that he could have any of them for three thousand dollars an hour, but resisted the urge. He probably had a family to take care of.
Janique smiled. She liked making other people happy.