DARLENE AND THE OTHERS were waiting for us when we got to our hotel room – it was a vast expanse of plushness at the very top of the hotel. No expense had been spared for the filming of our movie, and there were extravagant arrangements of flowers, bowls of delicious looking fruit (some of which, even I didn’t recognise!) and – of course – myriad bottles of the very best Champagne on ice.
Darlene wasted no time in setting up the next scene, mumbling something about not wanting to lose the s****l tension that had already built up between Rowan, me and the almost unbearably attractive futagirl, Charlene. So the three of us sat patiently on one of the wide, distressed leather couches whilst Darlene busied herself checking light meters and ambient sound and where the best angles would come fr
