Free One with the Wind by Jane Livingston Page B

“Porn filmmakers have the best fucking jobs. Casting calls must be amazing.”
                Josie waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Sweetheart, back to reality, if you truly love me, you’d forget that idea quick.”
                Collapsing back against the seat, he said, “Damn! It was a nice thought.”
                He looked over his shoulder, saw that their pizza was ready and headed to the counter to pick it up. They walked back to campus in a comfortable silence, enjoying the serenity and peace of the night.
     
                Josie woke the next morning to a stinging bright sunshine. She looked out the window and shaded her eyes from the reflection that bounced off the clean white snow.
                Nick raised his arm, cupped her naked breast and pulled her back down to bed. “No need for you to get up now.”
                “Who said I’m getting up? I was just looking out the window.”
                She cuddled close to him as he kissed her face. She felt safe in his warm and cozy arms. Nick glided his erection lightly across her inner thigh and she spread her legs, inviting him to enter. It was something they seldom experienced—morning sex. As far as Josie was concerned, it had to be the best.
                Sure they could rock it pretty hard at nights, but it was different in the mornings. It was before the stresses of the day, which left morning sex pure, easy and comfortable. There were no tensions or anxieties to release, just the simple joy of being together.
                Nick wasn’t really a morning person so she helped him get into the mood either with a blowjob or by guiding him inside her.
                This morning, Nick was still very sleepy, so he just lay on top of her without moving. It was fine for Josie. Morning love-making was slow and lasted longer and when they finally came, they rested in each other’s arms for hours.
                Josie drove home a few days later when the snow started to melt and the roads were cleared. She smiled and was certain that the future was going to be fine. 

The Studio Apartment
                 Nick plugged a cord into an electrical outlet and followed the wire across the blue carpet of the studio toward the camera. He checked all the switches, lights and focused the lens on a small studio with five black chairs positioned in a slight arc.
                He was fortunate to find an internship at a major New York City studio, but it was for daytime talk shows. His entire day was spent listening to caddy problems and complaints. It was rather mind-numbing work—plugging cords into sockets, unraveling wires, checking settings on cameras, and fetching coffee and lunch for the crew. But, he never complained, in fact, he learned quite a lot from the film teamster union.
                Nick checked that the camera was ready for the show and stood to one side. The cameraman nudged him aside and checked the focus. “Good job,” he said. “Do you want to take this one today?”
                “Really?” Nick questioned excitedly.
                “Yeah, I’m tired of watching these old bats slap their gums, besides you can handle yourself behind the camera, can’t you?”
                “Yeah sure,” Nick replied. “Don’t necessarily want to watch the old bats though.”
                The cameraman slapped Nick on the back. “Kid, you have to start somewhere.”
                Nick grinned and covered his ears with the headphones. As he watched the cameraman walk off the set, his stomach twisted in anxious knots. He was only nineteen years old, and filming national daytime television with a large, expensive camera felt daunting. Nick took a deep breath and when the director called, “Action!”, he turned the camera on the old bats and remained steady and