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In the decades before the sixties; before women started taking control of their lives, in Hollywood and perhaps in other businesses, women needed to and were often required to perform on the casting couch before they could perform on stage or on the silver screen.

Producers, directors, male stars, etc. made it clear to young up and coming actresses that if they wanted to have a career they needed to spread their legs or get on their knees.

The casting couch was like a screen test; perform well there, and the skies the limit on your success in the movie business. Rumor has it that many of the stars when Hollywood was in its heyday got their foot in the door that way. Not really their foot, but you know what I mean.

I wasn't on the job more than a week when Mr. Joseph Forester, the film studio's producer, called me into his office. I should say, the famous Mr. Forester. He'd won just about every award possible; many more than once. I thought I read he'd just had his sixtieth birthday. He closed the door, and pulled the drapes tight. "Miss Malloy, there's more to this work than just being a good writer. You have a lot of potential, but you need to be a team player."

"I understand. Yes, sir." No, I didn't.

"Miss Malloy, a happy producer insures that he produces a good film. Do you know what makes a happy producer, Miss Malloy?"

"I-I don't, but I'm sure you'll help me understand." I really was that naïve.

Mr. Forester took me by the shoulders and pushed me gently to my knees. "Miss Malloy, if you can make what I have in my pants happy, you'll make me happy."

I was shocked but like Tommy Nicholls and Declan O'Rourke, Mr. Forester was legendary and he wanted me to please him or in his own words make him happy.

He took his cock out of his pants. He was already hard. Was he already hard thinking of me? "Mr. Forester that's a big cock. I hope I can make it happy."

"I'm sure you can, Gloria. Now, be a good girl."

I knew I was getting better and better. I mean Tommy Nicholls called me. I'm talking about THE Tommy Nicholls.

Remember that I thought Declan had a big one. Mr. Forester's was much bigger. You might think that might be a problem. Not for me. I just thought there was more to suck and that he'd fill my mouth. It felt great to suck one so big. "Hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm."

"You're going to do well here, Gloria." He held my head in his hands. "You know what Mr. Forester wants. That's a good girl."

When I finished him, I stood up and wiped my mouth. "Gloria, I'll call on you a few times a month. It'll be good for your career."

Like I said there were numerous men who, how should I put this? I "entertained." Most of them you've heard of, and probably thought they were nice guys. Oh, they were nice; nice to my mouth.

There were some that weren't so famous.

On August 1st, Linda Greer, the secretary who found the apartment for me and took me clothes shopping rang my doorbell early. "Gloria, I've kept something from you, but it had to come out sooner or later."

"What is it?"

"Umm, when I negotiated your rent, I promised Mr. Kowalski, your landlord, that you, actually your mouth would take care of him every month."

I looked at Linda like she was crazy. "I have to admit when I got your

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