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Chapter Two: Coming Home

“Rod,” or rather, “David Rodriguez,” slid his hands out of the leather restraints and headed towards the lawn chairs, keeping his eyes on his feet. He had been co-starring in these films for a few months now, but he still felt rather self-conscious about it. For most of his life, only doctors and girlfriends had ever seen his schlong, and as soon as the cameras flipped off, it was like being back in the high school locker room. He would try to hide how his dick slapped against his thighs and other guys would laugh and crack jokes. At least he’d finally found a way to make it pay the rent, however briefly.

David retrieved his clothes, putting them on as the crew packed up. He knew they weren’t supposed to be out there, that they were filming without a permit, and that he needed to collect his pay before everyone bugged out. They would give him shit, they always did, accusing him of being an illegal immigrant instead of just an out-of-work actor from west Texas. And for some reason, this supposed illegal status gave them a license to try and screw him.

He patted his pockets, making sure his wallet and keys hadn’t gone missing, then looked around. Everywhere the crew was packing up in haste, tossing things into the back of windowless vans and preparing to head out. There were still beers floating in the tub of ice on the craft services table so he grabbed a couple. Rather than drinking them, he secreted them into the saddlebags of his motorbike, saving them for later. He’d promised his girlfriend he’d bring home a few beers, and free beer always tasted better.

The crew was queueing up around the director’s limo, taking their cash before heading out. David got in line behind the gaffer, staring at his boots as he waited. His co-workers disgusted him. A pastiche of ugly, lazy bodies, all of them chasing after quick cash. Drug addicts and thieves didn’t stay employed for long, but you didn’t get into this industry because you were hardworking, talented and had the right connections. You did this shit because you wanted to get paid fifty bucks to hold a boom mike over a couple of fucking strangers. Real talent could get real jobs.

Of course, David knew that on some level, he was just like them. He had bummed around through various community theaters, had entered and then dropped out of acting school due to lack of funds, had tried and failed to appear in several commercials. “People just aren’t ready for a reptilian face trying to sell them corn flakes yet,” his agent had said. “But I know some guys, some good guys, who can get you paid. Tax free, even.”

This didn’t mean David had actually cheated on his taxes, other than that he lied about where the money came from. His uncle had lost a store due to nonpayment of taxes, and he wasn’t about to risk the IRS’s ire just because it was “fashionable” for spoiled rich idiots to lie about income these days. He wasn’t spoiled, he wasn’t rich, and he wasn’t an idiot. But he did just stick his dick in a vixen he didn’t know and didn’t respect. And now he was going to get paid cash for it.

“What did you do?” The driver was handing out the money skeptically, peeling bills off of a wad. He was a large, heavy-set dog of indeterminate breed, looking out of place in his chauffeur's uniform. He was no more a chauffeur than David was a movie star, but he was tough and stupid enough to be trusted with someone else’s money.

David sighed. “Do you not recognize me? I’m Rod Thicke. I’ve been in four films with this company already. That means you’ve paid me four times before. As the co-star. Fuck, my goddamn name is on the VHS boxes.”

The driver began counting out bills, his fat fingers squeezing each one firmly as he set it aside. “Yeah well I gotta ask.” He shoved the bills towards Rod. “Here you go.”

“I was promised five hundred. There’s only three fifty here.”

“Yeah well that’s what I was told to pay you. Fuck off.”

David couldn’t believe it. Was this idiot trying to stiff him? Or did the director really think he could screw around? Either way, David was having none of it. “Look, you pay me the five hundred I was promised or I’ll start shit.”

The driver huffed. “You start shit with me? Fuckin’ try it, asshole. I’ll break your fucking neck.”

“Not with you, with whoever’s dirt we’re fucking standing on. You know you’re not supposed to be here. So pay fair and then I’ll fuck off.”

It took a few minutes for the big dog’s mind to finally click over, his fingers pawing at the wad of bills and counting out the remaining money. “Fuckin’ scaly bastard, shaking me the fuck down.”

“And a good afternoon to you too, sir!” David bowed a little, trying to play things up a bit even though he knew no one was looking. Best to leave on a high note, and get out of there before the dog decided to re-open the discussion. He shoved the money in his boot and mounted his motorcycle.

The engine roared to life as he turned the key and blipped the throttle, the Honda two-stroke thrumming happily between his knees. He strapped on his helmet and headed out, zipping around the cars and vans that were queueing up to go out the single gate back onto the highway. Once there he let the engine roar, pulling him up to the speed limit and setting him on his way.

The hot wind on his face was comforting, as was the setting sun on his left. He’d be back at his apartment in half an hour if everything went right, leaving him with plenty of time before his girlfriend got home. Time to shower, clean up, and get his story straight. He went over everything in his mind, trying to make it believable but boring, something she wouldn’t ask too many details about. He’d been out in the desert being an extra in a sci-fi film. No, he didn’t know the name, something to do with a space war. No, it wasn’t Star Wars. He’d picked up a couple of beers at the bodega on the way home, and his agent would call if he was needed tomorrow. Then he’d shift the conversation to her day, and all he’d have to do is listen.

He turned off the highway and down assorted run-down streets. The pavement and buildings grew more and more worn as he cruised through the “low rent” district. He hated living like this, hated being told that this was “right” for him, hated that everyone expected him to speak Spanish just because he had scales, hated how everyone thought he was from Mexico and treated him like shit. But he loved Maria, and this is where she wanted to be, near her family, near where she grew up, in an apartment they could actually afford to rent. Most of the time, anyway.

Rather than parking his bike out front, he carefully moved it into the back, navigating it behind assorted trash cans and garbage. There was a struggling assortment of shrubbery between the back door and fence, untrimmed hedges fighting for sunlight. He shoved his bike into the gap between them, retrieving a lock and chain from one of the saddlebags. He chained the frame to the base of one of the shrubs, then grabbed the beers and opened the back door to the building. A few moments of scrambling up the steps and he was home at last.

“Hello honey! Class let out early, one of the professors was sick.”

David was caught off guard by the presence of his girlfriend, Maria. She usually had class until nine, meaning she didn’t get home until the both of them were just about to go to bed. There would be just enough time to turn the sofa into a bed, do a little hanky-panky, and catch the late-night talk shows before falling asleep. He liked it that way — no need to talk meant no need to lie. But since she was here now, he might as well play it cool and make her happy.

“I made some dinner. I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, so it’s in the fridge.” Maria smiled at him, her lizard lips complementing small, delicate teeth. She was working on homework, an assortment of legal pads and textbooks sprawling across the kitchen table.

“Thanks, sweetie.” He held up the two beers, then put them in the fridge. “I swung by the bodega on the way home. We can enjoy these while we catch Carson later.” He retrieved the mixture of ground meat, onions, tomatoes and peppers and began to smear it on a tortilla.

“You shouldn’t shop at that place, the prices are so outrageous. For what he charges for two beers, you could get a six pack down at the grocery.” Maria didn’t take her eyes off her book as she worked, continuing to fill out her legal pad with equations.

David bent down and reached into his boot, retrieving the wad of cash. He tossed it on the table, grinning. “It was a good day and I wanted to celebrate without getting too drunk.”

Maria gasped, picking up the wad of bills and quickly counting them. “There must be five hundred dollars here!”

“Exactly five-hundred. So not only will rent and electricity be covered, but we have a little left over too.” He pulled off five of the twenty dollar bills, stuffing them into his pocket. “I’ll just keep this for gas. And I need to do something about my bike’s shifter, it’s gotten loose again.”

“I don’t like you riding that thing, it’s dangerous.” Maria gnawed on her eraser. “One of the guys in my class, he was riding one of those things, and got hit by a car, and he died.”

“But it’s so cheap! I mean, I barely burn any gas, and anything that goes wrong with it, I can fix on my own.” David picked up the burrito and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing eagerly. Even cold it was delicious. Maria was always so good at this “girly” stuff, like cooking and cleaning. Without her he’d be naked, hungry and knee-deep in garbage. “Besides, only idiots get into accidents. I bet that guy was drunk, or running a light, or something.”

“I can’t believe you eat that without microwaving it first.” She giggled, setting her pencil down in her textbook and coming over to give him a hug. “My mother gave us that thing as a housewarming present and you barely ever use it.”

“What are you talking about?” David finished his meal, licking his claws and then giving his girlfriend a hug. Her scales were much softer and smoother than his, and she felt warmer too. Probably because she’d been slaving over a hot stove for the past hour. “I microwave burritos and pizzas in it all the time. I just clean up afterward.”

“You shouldn’t eat that frozen-and-reheated garbage, not when I can cook wonderful meals for you.”

“Well, your cooking is pretty wonderful, but there are other ways I prefer you to spend your time.” David’s hand slid down, cupping around Maria’s pert rear end and giving it a good squeeze. Her backside had always been his favorite, even back when he first met her. Things had only gotten better over time, especially the way her long, thin tail complemented the curve of each firm buttcheek. So different from his own. So female. So reptilian. It always got his motor revving.

“Well I suppose my homework is mostly done already…”

Within moments they had folded out the bed, shoving the kitchen table and chairs into the kitchenette to make room. The apartment was tiny, the queen-sized sofa bed taking up an entire wall opposite the dressers. The dressers themselves had to play home to the tiny TV that David had snagged at Goodwill, the record player, a couple dozen records, and the clock radio that Maria tuned to NPR while she was studying. Even though they had so few possessions, David always felt cramped in the space, which was barely bigger than his childhood bedroom.

David threw himself on Maria, touching and fondling and feeling her all over. There was a hot wind leaking in through a nearby open window, tickling David’s back as he removed Maria’s pants and panties. He loved to touch her down there, loved to feel her intimate parts, loved the fact that she only let him go down there. He hated that he couldn’t assure her of the same monogamy on his part, but for some reason, she had never asked. He hadn’t really dallied around much in high school, but there was that vixen in acting school he’d met right after he moved out to LA. Then there was that skunk who’d ultimately introduced him to his agent, who’d had David participate in a threesome with his wife to “test things out” before connecting him with his first production. He hated not telling her, but nothing had come of it, so he felt there wasn’t any harm. Besides, if anything happened, he could just go to the doctor and get it solved with a few pills, like everything else.

There was nothing like being inside Maria. The girls from the studio were all whores, figuratively if not literally. They put things inside their body, whether it be drugs or dicks, with no question other than if they were getting paid. Their holes had less tread than his long-suffering motorcycle tires, and even his enormous length found little resistance. He might as well be shoving a toothpick through the middle of a hula-hoop. But Maria — she was soft, she was warm, she was tight. Though they had been at it for almost four years now, every bit of it had been great. She knew his kinks, knew his little spots, knew how to make him feel loved for every minute they spent locked in one another’s embrace.

After a few minutes, Maria was riding him, her chest heaving as she bounced up and down. Though she was small, she was certainly energetic, and her day job waiting tables gave her immense strength in her arms and legs. David grinned, gripping her thighs as she rode him up and down, her small breasts bouncing wildly. She had put on a little weight in recent months, probably due to all the free leftovers she got at the restaurant. It sat well on her. Especially on her ass, which he groped happily.

“You like my pert little culo don’t you?” Maria grinned, bending over and squeezing on him firmly. She licked at his face and neck with her long, reptilian tongue, nibbling and grinning happily. She was riding him faster now, focusing on speed, building it up as she moved towards her climax.

David knew how to respond, kissing her and groping her breasts, rubbing up and down her back and thighs to keep her fully stimulated. He would be going off any moment now, and he needed her to finish first. After all, as big as he was, he couldn’t keep it up for long after going off. Even with Maria it was tough enough getting more than mostly hard. The feel of her juices running across his length, the way she trembled and shuddered when she reached her peak, that let him know he’d done it right. He pulled out, releasing himself on her back, panting and groaning as he did so.

Maria collapsed on top of him, closing her eyes and rubbing his chest. “What did you do that for? You know I’m on the pill.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna take chances.” David kissed Maria on the cheek, hugging her close. “Plus you know how it gets all oozy and messes up the sheets and then you wake up with a big sticky patch on your thighs.”

There was a loud thwap as Maria smashed a pillow across David’s face, playfully smacking him with it a few more times for good measure. “Like you care, you’re not the one who does laundry around here! And how sticky are the sheets going to be when I roll over? Now I’ve got to go towel off, and you better do so too.”

“I’ll do one better.” David got up, pulling a pair of towels out of the bathroom, wiping himself before coming back over to Maria. He rubbed up and down her back, cleaning her at first, then shifting to a back massage. “Dos cervezas, querida?”

“Si, gracias.”

David turned on the television as he went over to the kitchenette, the old cathode ray tube producing a slowly expanding white dot while the speaker grumbled out the evening’s news. Some disgruntled postal worker in Oklahoma had shot a bunch of people. A large stash of marijuana had been confiscated in downtown LA. There had been a brush fire, but it had been put out. The Soviets were rattling their sabres. The Iranians and Iraqis were still killing each other. It was going to be a sunny day tomorrow. “Why do we even watch this garbage? It’s just the same shit every day.”

“It’s important to keep tabs on the world.” Maria caught the beer as David tossed it to her, cracking open the can and taking a long sip. She drank like a man, despite her small size and feminine body. It was sexy, at least in David’s mind. “Even if we can’t do anything about it, it’s a good idea to know when you need to move out of the way.”

“I think there are other, more important things we can focus on.” David ran his fingers up and down her stomach, then began to tickle her, making her giggle and kick her feet.

“Don’t make me spill my beer!” Maria was laughing now, delicately balancing her beverage even as the playfully swatted at David.

For his part, David cracked his beer and downed it in one long gulp, letting out a massive belch before resuming his fondling and groping of Maria’s stomach and backside.

“For a guy who never went to college, you sure do know how to act like a frat boy.”

“Oh yeah? Can the frat boys do this?” David slipped under the sheets, putting his muzzle between her thighs, teasing her sex with his long, thin tongue.

“Now you’re definitely going to make me spill my beer!” Maria set it down on top of David’s head, forcing him to hold still, or else risk sleeping in a puddle of stink all night. She let it sit there for almost a full minute, then pulled it off and began to sip slowly.

“Now, go back to what you were doing, but be careful. You remember the rules, he who spills it, sleeps in it.”

“You’re still upset about that incident with the Pepsi, aren’t you?” He kissed her lower lips, letting his tongue slide into her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too, David.”