Stuart was in the front and none too happy about all this horseplay going on in the back but what could I do? Seriously, I spent most of the journey fighting them off, a la George Formby. It was something of a relief when we finally parked up and I could put some distance between them and my boxers.
‘These them?’ Stuart asked, staring across at a row of tennis courts.
‘Yeah. Come on, we’ve got to go and see the man up in the hut before we start. Make sure everything’s still kosher,’ I told him, so we left Howard and the girls to bring up all the stuff. There wasn’t much of it; a camera, a camera bag with rolls of film, a couple of tennis racquets and some strawberries and cream. Get the picture?
‘I’ve booked all the courts for an hour, just for a little more privacy, but I also said we’d give this upstanding gentleman £50 for his troubles,’ I explained, introducing Stuart to this mental stoner who took the money for the tennis courts.
‘Yea’, that’s fiddy quid in cash, I don’t take no cheques, ahhhight?’ the gentleman added, wiping his hands down the front of his jumper. ‘Come on, come on! Yeah, gi’ dat to me, gi’ dit ere, ahhhight.’
Stuart handed over the money, then gave us all a good laugh by asking for a receipt. The stoner looked at him for a second, trying to work out whether he was serious or not, then tore a page out of a blank notebook and wrote £150 on it.
‘Dere, dat’s fa you, I made it fa a ton more so’s you’s can gets more money, ahhhight? You wants annuver wun? I can rites you one fa a million quid if you likes. Makes you rich.’ And he did just that. He ripped another sheet of paper out and scribbled on it ‘£100000 – a milloin pounds (sic)’ and stuffed it in Stuart’s hand. ‘If you get that, haff of it’s mine, ahhhight?’
‘Yes, well, okay. Come on, let’s get cracking.’
Howard clipped together his camera and flash and shot off a few Polaroids, close-up and from afar, to gauge the lighting, but it was a beautifully clear and sunny morning so not much adjustment was needed.
‘Alright, we’ve got an hour so let’s get this done and get down the pub,’ Stuart said, and we set to work putting the girls through their poses. All the horseplay went out the window now that we were under the clock, and we were able to snap off two rolls of intro and possible cover shots in no time at all.
‘Okay, now both of you to the net and kissing. Yeah, that’s it.’ SNAP. ‘Okay, Cindy, you lean right over the net so we can see your bum.’ SNAP. ‘Okay, Howard get underneath them, that’s it down on the ground and you two stand over him so that he’s shooting up your skirts.’ SNAP. ‘That’s good, now let’s do that one with pink.’ SNAP SNAP SNAP.
The Common was pretty deserted so our little show went largely unnoticed. Two teenage truants who picked the day to end all days to bunk off school (but would never be believed by any of their friends in a million years), an old man and his Labrador, a couple of council labourers and a motorcycle courier were the extent of our audience. Them and, of course, our stoner attendant who kept on trying to pass me a big fat joint every time I wandered too near him. To anyone else who might’ve walked past, there was superficially nothing out of the ordinary. The girls still had their outfits on so the only obvious give-aways that something was amiss were the fact that a) they were absolute pin-up stunners; b) there was some bloke photographing their arses and; c) they were quite unbelievably shit at tennis.
‘Here mate, what are you doing this for?’ one of the kids shouted over.
‘Because we love tennis,’ Stuart told him. ‘Why aren’t you at school?’
‘Er… it’s half term,’ he replied, standing there in school uniform with a satchel slung over his back. ‘Are they going to get their tits out or what?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but you’re only allowed to stay and watch if you’ve done your homework,’ Stuart told them.
‘We have,’ they lied, making everyone except the old man and his dog laugh.
I was just starting to think we might even get away with this and do all we needed to do without attracting any unnecessary attention when all of a sudden, motorcycle couriers started pouring in from every conceivable angle. Word had got out; ‘Forget your deliveries and get your arses down to Tooting Common, there’s a porn shoot going on at the tennis courts.’
‘We’d better get this done and fast before someone starts selling tickets,’ Stuart said. ‘Get the girls stripped off and do two rolls of fully naked shots and we can blow them up if need be, but I think we want to be on our way within twenty minutes.’
Before long there were three dozen assorted bikers and passers-by squashed against the fence watching us work, yet it didn’t seem to bother the girls one bit. I asked them if they’d be willing to strip out of their dresses for the fully nude shots, expecting them to knock me back, but the girls didn’t hesitate. A huge cheer went up as their dresses hit the deck and even the old man suddenly started cheering. The girls turned and posed for the audience, teasing them the same way they’d teased me in the car on the way down. They started kissing and stroking each other erotically, just yards from a swarming mass of excited testosterone.
‘Get some of this,’ I urged Howard. ‘Quick, take some pictures. Get the crowd in, this is fucking dynamite.’
The stoner behind Stuart started howling loudly as the girls got funky with each other. Howard knelt here, there and everywhere as he snapped off close-ups of Tanya and Cindy doing the business. And it looked convincing to me, I can tell you that. No more prompting was needed as suddenly I couldn’t tell where simulation ended and real sex began. If anything, we had to calm them down to get shots we could use.
‘Move your hand, pull your fingers out.’ SNAP. ‘Okay, lift your legs a little so you’re not actually on her face.’ SNAP.
One of the bikers looked over at me, a tough, tattooed meat-head on a Yamaha, and said something I’d heard dozens and dozens of times before.
‘Man, you’ve got the best job in the world, you have!’
And you know what, at this precise moment in time, there was no arguing with him. It was a lovely sunny day, I was outdoors, I had two beautiful girls at my feet and the total respect of every biker within a hundred yards of me. Days like these are few and far between. You need to fully appreciate them while you can.
‘Hey Godfrey, want to join us?’ Cindy said, lifting her head out of Tanya’s crotch and looking me right in the eye.
‘Yeah, come on Godfrey, get your cock inside me right now,’ Tanya urged.
The rapidly swelling crowd (and by that I don’t mean their numbers either) cheered for all they were worth and suddenly started chanting my name. Stuart quick-stepped it over and told me to calm the girls down otherwise things were going to get really messy really quickly.
‘How much more do we need?’ I asked.
‘Just a couple more shots. Give them their racquets and do one more roll then we’re out of here,’ Stuart said, then looked at the crowd and added, ‘if they let us.’
We urged Howard on and managed to temper the girls’ behaviour despite the adoration. My mind couldn’t help but turn to my Femmy solicitor mate Samantha and wonder what she’d say if she could see me now. I didn’t know, but I wasn’t sure her opinion of me would’ve improved much.