I hear that Miss Sharon Stone has been reworking the old formula that made her the queen of soft porn. Good luck to her. Watching Miss Stone pretending to have an orgasm is probably the closest that many men will get to satisfying a woman. And even a gorilla can admire those wonderful noises she makes when simulating sex. I doubt that many human females sound as good when they’re actually feeling the earth move.
I once met Miss Stone at a party given by the circus after a show in Los Angeles. She was eager to meet me in person after watching me perform in the ring.
“How ya doin’ big guy?” she inquired merrily. “I just loved your act with the clowns!”
“Thank you, Miss Stone,” I replied. “I hear that you too are a practitioner of the performing arts.”
“Jeez you sound so smart!” she remarked. “I’ve got the lead part in a movie called Basic Instinct and shooting starts next week. Got any acting tips you’d like to pass on?”
I suspected that her inquiry was not entirely serious, but as I happened to have pertinent views on how thespians should approach their craft, I decided to make the most of her invitation.
“Try to improvise and react like Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront,” I suggested. “That’s the kind of performance that will bring you critical acclaim.”
“Screw critical acclaim!” she exclaimed, twisting her finger into my chest. “I just wanna give guys a hard-on!”
“I see,” I replied. “Does the film have scenes that would facilitate this worthy objective?”
“Oh, there’s loads of nudity,” she declared breezily. “But the sex is all pretend, it’s not hard-core.”
“In that case, you should exploit the opportunities for seductive teasing,” I advised. “I notice, for example, that you are blessed with smooth, unblemished skin. This will serve you well. But suppose you were to briefly – but deliberately – expose an area of your body with a covering of hair. A glimpse of such furry secrets might drive a man insane with lust.……and even impress a gorilla,” I added.
“I like the way you think!” she purred, drawing her fingernail over my forearm. “I’ll talk to the director about it.”
I heard no more about Miss Stone until after the premiere of Basic Instinct, when I learned that she had followed my advice to the letter. Her pubic exposure helped to make the film a huge commercial success, but at the expense of winning her notoriety as a vulgar female flasher.
The ringmaster’s wife came to see after she had seen the movie.
“I heard that you spoke with this Sharon Stone in Los Angeles,” said Cécile . “What kind of woman did she seem to you?”
“I found her friendly and frank in her opinions,” I replied. “I would describe her as a convivial young woman, quite devoted to her profession…….”
“Devoted pah!” interrupted Cécile. “You know what she did? She sat on a chair with her legs wide open and wearing no knickers. She allowed the camera to film so everyone could see her bush. What kind of woman does such a thing?”
“Really, Cécile, she was only doing her job!” I protested. “There’s no need to be quite so judgmental.”
“Why are you so keen to be her protector?” asked Cécile. “I think maybe you have a little crush on Miss Stone, no?” she added with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t be silly!” I replied irritably. “I just don’t like people being maligned unfairly. I mean, do you really think it was her own idea to expose herself like that? It must have been dreamt up by the scriptwriter or director…. or someone.”
“Well, if this silly person were here, I would turn up my nose to him like this,” declared Cécile, who tossed her head and marched away with her petite proboscis pointing towards the pole star.
I once met Miss Stone at a party given by the circus after a show in Los Angeles. She was eager to meet me in person after watching me perform in the ring.
“How ya doin’ big guy?” she inquired merrily. “I just loved your act with the clowns!”
“Thank you, Miss Stone,” I replied. “I hear that you too are a practitioner of the performing arts.”
“Jeez you sound so smart!” she remarked. “I’ve got the lead part in a movie called Basic Instinct and shooting starts next week. Got any acting tips you’d like to pass on?”
I suspected that her inquiry was not entirely serious, but as I happened to have pertinent views on how thespians should approach their craft, I decided to make the most of her invitation.
“Try to improvise and react like Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront,” I suggested. “That’s the kind of performance that will bring you critical acclaim.”
“Screw critical acclaim!” she exclaimed, twisting her finger into my chest. “I just wanna give guys a hard-on!”
“I see,” I replied. “Does the film have scenes that would facilitate this worthy objective?”
“Oh, there’s loads of nudity,” she declared breezily. “But the sex is all pretend, it’s not hard-core.”
“In that case, you should exploit the opportunities for seductive teasing,” I advised. “I notice, for example, that you are blessed with smooth, unblemished skin. This will serve you well. But suppose you were to briefly – but deliberately – expose an area of your body with a covering of hair. A glimpse of such furry secrets might drive a man insane with lust.……and even impress a gorilla,” I added.
“I like the way you think!” she purred, drawing her fingernail over my forearm. “I’ll talk to the director about it.”
I heard no more about Miss Stone until after the premiere of Basic Instinct, when I learned that she had followed my advice to the letter. Her pubic exposure helped to make the film a huge commercial success, but at the expense of winning her notoriety as a vulgar female flasher.
The ringmaster’s wife came to see after she had seen the movie.
“I heard that you spoke with this Sharon Stone in Los Angeles,” said Cécile . “What kind of woman did she seem to you?”
“I found her friendly and frank in her opinions,” I replied. “I would describe her as a convivial young woman, quite devoted to her profession…….”
“Devoted pah!” interrupted Cécile. “You know what she did? She sat on a chair with her legs wide open and wearing no knickers. She allowed the camera to film so everyone could see her bush. What kind of woman does such a thing?”
“Really, Cécile, she was only doing her job!” I protested. “There’s no need to be quite so judgmental.”
“Why are you so keen to be her protector?” asked Cécile. “I think maybe you have a little crush on Miss Stone, no?” she added with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t be silly!” I replied irritably. “I just don’t like people being maligned unfairly. I mean, do you really think it was her own idea to expose herself like that? It must have been dreamt up by the scriptwriter or director…. or someone.”
“Well, if this silly person were here, I would turn up my nose to him like this,” declared Cécile, who tossed her head and marched away with her petite proboscis pointing towards the pole star.
“And this from a woman whose nation invented the can-can!” I muttered grumpily as I watched her saunter off.
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