Page 170 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

156 Jack Fritscher

began to book her films in as under ground/underwater
cult and camp features. Adult bookstores noted a brisk
up surge in the sale of her movies on 8mm and Super-8
film. The money was roll ing in. She was famous the way
she wanted to be famous.
I was balling with her every night. I wanted it. She
wanted it. She needed it.
One night, laid back on her big heart-shaped wa-
terbed, she said, “I want to do something bigger, better,
outrageous. I want to top everything I’ve done. Everything
you’ve done. I want us to be so fantastic and far out that
the world will have a hardon forever. They’ll never forget
us. I want us to make a movie that will shock the public.
Entertain them. Get them off. I want it erotic, beautiful,
and very, very, very different. I want to make one last
film, one last truly great X-rated spectacle. Then I will
retire forever from films. Just one great last big splash.
Will you write it for me?”
I got up from the waterbed. Her firm, warm body had
left traces of its secret moist smells on my mouth and
hands and dick. I could smell her hot musk dampness on
my body. I walked over to the cold salt water aquarium
tank that gurgled under hidden fluo rescent lights against
the far wall.
“Will you think up something special for me? Please.
For this one great last movie.”
I drew a blank. She was right. We had to make one
last shot at a picture that would play the theaters longer
than Deep Throat. There’s only so much anyone can do in
a career before they start repeating themselves. Stella
and I never wanted to do the same thing twice. Never.
“Something different. New. Outrageous. Something

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