Casting Traps: Girl On Girl

Two girls walked into my apartment thinking they were reading for a real part. I’d placed an anonymous ad, and they answered. They showed up bright-eyed, sure the scene was theirs to win. I told them the story: newly-out lesbians meeting for the first time. They were shy but hungry to please. I promised the sex would be faked. Later, I watched them from behind the lens and decided faked was not enough. “Real sells,” I said. They blinked, cheeks pink. Still, the rent was due and I had the tape rolling, so I pushed. They shed their clothes and moved in together. One went down first, tongue working—slow, then hungry—until the other arched and cried out. Then they switched. They went at it like they needed proof they weren’t dreaming. I never corrected them. Never mentioned the tape would never leave my hard drive. They moaned, licked, slicked each other’s thighs, convinced every sound earned another line in the script. When they finished, they looked to me for notes. I nodded, rewound the reel, and let the truth stay on the couch where they left it.