Traci’s original name was Mary Crouch. The only reason she was in Hollywood High was because her father was a set designer who met a costume seamstress during a movie production, married, and combined their savings to buy a small, aging two-bedroom bungalow in Hollywood. Mary was their first, and only, child. They loved her very much, but she was not the Hollywood ideal and they weren't sure if she would even ever marry.

       Among all the wannabe movie stars in ZIP Code 90201, Mary did not stand out. She was an average student who took homemaking courses because she didn't think she would go to college. Watching all the other students try to get attention in all the cliques that formed: the geeks, divas, goths, surfers, jocks, millennials, scientists, writers, actors, songwriters and singers that vied for position. So many trying to attract the many recruiters from the studios that dropped by occasionally to find young blood for the movie industry.

       Worst of all, was her physical appearance. She was skinny and had a pasty complexion with a few pimples here and there. Her hair was an unruly dirty blonde. She had no real figure with boobs so small and embarrassing with erect nipples that showed through any blouse or shirt that was the least bit thin. She didn't have the need to wear a bra. She liked athletic activity but hated undressing in the girl’s locker room or showering, faced with snickers from the developed girls.

       Her friends were like her, struggling to get a date. But she began to have those hormonal urges and wanted to date very much. She sent some notes on paper and even some text messages to guys who turned her down or even ridiculed or dissed her. Worst of all, when her junior prom came, she didn't get a date, even when she made an effort to approach some of the guys who couldn't get a date.

       Late at night, she often turned to porn sites and marveled at the women there who seemed to enjoy sex so much, even though some of it seemed way too violent for her taste. And, too quick. She needed time to warm up to sex that those stars didn't seem to. Maybe it's fake, Mary often thought.

       But shortly after the junior prom was over and she was looking for a summer job, she saw an ad for a movie audition. They were looking for a waif to play the part of the early life of a fictional shipping magnet of the mid-19th century England. She seemed to fit the description they were looking for. A teenager with the characteristics of someone deprived of nutrition in the slums of London.

       With no other job prospects, she had her mother drive her to the audition at a major studio. She wore a very straight, well worn, off brown housedress, her favorite when she wasn't wearing jeans around the house. She actually liked dresses because she could feel the air coming up under her skirt that pants did not allow.

       Mary purposely didn't comb her hair or brush her teeth in an effort to look as much like what they were looking for as she could. When she arrived, there were already about 30 girls signing in ahead of her. And, she was amused to see that most of them were well endowed, were heavily made up and some were even, tattooed inappropriately for the 1800s. There were those that were obviously very athletic and only a very few that approached her look, right out of Charles Dickens's London.

       In all, there were about 50 girls waiting to go on stage. There was loud chatter in the room as they all vied for position, wanting to be first or noticed. Mary stayed silent and waited her turn. They were called onto the stage five girls at a time according to when they signed in. The first group didn't come back, but after about five minutes another five were called to the stage. It wasn't really very long, maybe 20 minutes, when she was called to join four others with growing tension in her stomach, doing something she never thought she would ever do.

       She told herself… Don't throw up… You don't have to go pee–hold it!

       Through the bright lights, Mary squinted and saw three men and two women in the first two rows of the otherwise, empty, small studio theater. One guy, probably the casting director, was in charge. The first thing he said, was, “You, the one on the left. You're out. Exit left, thank you.”

       He spoke in such a matter-of-fact voice as though he were bored with the whole process. But, Mary could feel the girl's pain to be the first denied. Two others swiftly followed. And then, the director ordered… “Please, turn around slowly so that I can see all of you.”

       Mary and the other girl turned around and Mary knew that that girl with her new dress and high-heeled shoes wouldn't make the cut. She felt a lot better. The director soon directed the other one stage left; while she was ordered stage right where an aide took her to a room and gave her some lines to memorize. There were three girls in the room when she got there, but none looking as waif-like as she.

       The first girl was called to read her lines. It was nearly a half hour before the second one was called. Mary was the fourth with three remaining after her. Luckily, she had time to use the restroom before she was called and plenty of time to memorize a few lines she was given. Yet she still was apprehensive when the other girls didn't come back and she was called.

       Once on the stage, the other man, maybe the film director, asked her to assume certain poses, and then, read her lines with a male actor reading the other lines. She was being punished and had to act it. The way she felt, Mary was halfway there already. She didn't have to act.

       When her reading was over, she was told to exit stage right and brought back into the room to wait her fate while the other three gave their auditions. When none of them returned, Mary became more anxious with every passing minute.

       Finally, the five people who had been in the theater came into the room and up to her. The man, who had directed her, introduced himself as the director of the movie and his greeting was full of superlatives about how she was “perfect” for the part and so glad that she had chosen to audition. Said something about, “We won't have to go to England to get someone, after all. Your accent was good but needs to get better.”

       When her mother picked Mary up, she was amazed that she was chosen and grateful. She was so worried that Mary would have to work hard sewing like her or some other menial job all her life. She couldn't wait to tell Mary's father when he got home that evening. When he heard, he was overjoyed and hugged them both.

       He cautioned… “Mary, do your best on this part. It could make you a star or could bury you in lackluster roles like this one. I've seen so many actors start out beautifully, and then, fail, fade away. And, beware the casting couch. From my experience with studio people, they are all out to take advantage of young starlets.”

       Mary didn't want to let him know that she wanted a man very badly, any man, so she hugged him again, looked him in the eye, and said, “I will do my best, Daddy. I never thought I would be in movies like Mom and you. And, I've heard that studio people prey on young stars. I'll watch out for that.”

       “I want to be there when you sign a contract.”

       “Okay, Daddy, I'll make sure to do that. I don't know anything about contracts.”

       On the day of contract signing, Mary's parents were there along with a lawyer he hired. During the negotiations that followed, the director questioned Mary's name.

       “Mr. and Mrs. Crouch.” Nodding toward Mary's mother, “This is a big-budget movie based on a best-selling historical novel. The role of the childhood of the Ship Dowager, consort to Queen Victoria, is critical and the actress playing the part should have a star's name…”

       He paused for a moment looking out the window and saw the prominent name of a major hotel off Wilshire Boulevard. “I think you're a Traci… Montrose… Yes, what do you think of that, Mary, what if we call you, Traci Montrose?”

       George Crouch winced when he heard the name the director offered. He replied, “Well, … I know that names have been changed here forever. It's really up to Mary whether she wants to do it or not. Mary?”

       Mary answered quickly. “I don't know. It seems strange. But that name you suggested sounds more attractive to me. I'll take it.”

       After the lawyer and her dad carefully reviewed and negotiated the money, Mary signed her contract with the studio in the name of Traci Montrose.

       While most of the Hollywood High seniors were into their summer job around the LA area, Traci spent half her time at the Hollywood studio and half on-site in London. It was a whirlwind time for her and the money was almost unbelievable to her and her family. Her coaches and makeup people, along with costume designers, made her into the waif who became a powerful woman in London and worldwide shipping affairs, consort to the Queen, played by another actor.

       Like most blockbuster movies, there was a lot of advertising everywhere so that the public knew that the movie was coming and also that the movie would be a contender for the Oscars.

       When Mary returned to her senior year in high school as Traci, everything changed for her. The top girls in the school were jealous of her but tried to befriend her anyway, and the top guys shyly asked for dates that she mostly turned down knowing how those same guys had treated her before.

       Instead, she started to date up-and-coming stars, but found little satisfaction with all the publicity involved and cameras everywhere, especially from her growing fan base who hadn't even seen a movie by her yet.

       The Ship Dowager premiered in London with a lot of fanfare and blockbuster box office receipts and residuals. Nominations in many Academy Award categories, including best picture, came along, including a nomination of Traci for Best Supporting Actress.

       The big day came, Traci was fitted with the finest gown, a stylist hairdo, and professional makeup for the Red Carpet where she shown like a fresh new light on the Hollywood scene. She won and was instantly thrown into fame.

       Many roles followed. The money bought retirement for her parents and a mansion in the Hollywood Hills with servants. Along the way, Traci had on-and-off relationships, used the casting couch to get roles, and, by the time she was 21 had filled out and her skin made radiant by frequent spa visits, workouts and other perks of stardom. While she avoided plastic surgery and tattoos, was becoming sexually addictive and alcoholic. 

       At parties there were drugs. One time, after a party, she woke up in a cheap motel where she had been dumped. She asked the clerk to use the phone to call Arthur, her chauffeur, to pick her up. On the way back to the mansion, she asked his advice.

       “Arthur, I don't remember what happened last night. But I'm really sore. I'm sure I've been raped, but I don't remember who it was I was with? What should I do?”

       Arthur had become like a second father. He answered. “I've watched you deteriorate a lot since I first started driving for you. Don't fall into the traps I see stars caught up in. I know a good place where you can get over your alcohol addiction. Drugs if you want to.”

       Traci took his advice and went into rehab and cleaned up her act. Stopped drinking and made sure she avoided any drugs offered. It was hard, but her addiction to sex in her mid-20s grew to where she began using the Internet and sex toys to feel fulfilled and able to sleep. Her relationships with men all seemed to fail because the men she dated could not keep up with her desires. Early on, she got an IUD to avoid having any children. To avoid STDs, she often insisted on the use of condoms.

       And then, when she was 27, a routine examination found a precancerous condition in her ovaries and she was forced to have them removed. Strangely, now unable to have children, her sex drive was stronger than ever.

       One day while reviewing her fan base that was mostly young girls, she noticed that there were date starved young men there that kept writing for her advice on how to date women. She got an idea…

       She called Homer Garner. She had befriended him visiting his back room sex toy Emporium where the stars got their toys.

       “Homer,” She said, “Can you do me a favor?”

       “Anything Traci, for you. What is it you want?”

       “Well, I've decided to give some of my younger fans, guys, the thrill of their lives. I plan to pretend to be an automated, AI driven, sexual companion for these guys who are sex starved like I was as a teenager but aren't getting any.”

       “You aren't getting involved in some dangerous sex, are you? Homer looked worried on her phone.”

       “No… No. I have thoroughly investigated these guys and they are harmless and clueless when it comes to pleasing a young lady and even getting a date.”

       “Again, what can I do for you?”

       “It's easy. All you have to do is send, from your company, emails I will send you addressed to some of the guys that I hope to give a real thrill to. I'll do the rest.”

       “That sure will be easy. Don't get you or me in trouble now…”

       “No trouble, it's going to be fun!”

###

       Andy couldn't do anything all day on Saturday, it was worse than the day before. He masturbated a couple of times over the thought of what was going to happen, but couldn't eat at the thought of being able to talk to and touch his ideal girlfriend; it was overwhelming. At least his mother calmed down when he came home on time the night before, unscathed, but happy. He couldn't.

       Finally, it was 8 pm and the limousine pulled up again. When Arthur opened the door to the limo, he caught a glance of Traci, again sitting in the middle dressed and looking like a teenager from his school with a bare shoulder and midriff spaghetti strap white top and a yellow, very short, skirt.

       Traci greeted him. “Hi, Andy, so glad you could make it. I'm really looking forward to our date tonight. You hungry?”

       While his stomach was still in knots, Andy was. And just shook his head, Yes. He took his place on her left side, and she snuggled up against him, smelling like strawberry ice cream and feeling so warm and real this time.

       They drove off, while Andy remained speechless but began to put his arm around Traci while she smiled and nuzzled him. Gradually, he put his left hand on her midriff moving it back and forth and upward until he discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra. He kissed her.

       Traci kissed him back and just enjoyed Andy's hand exploring her breasts as they drove through the night to their first destination–Bell's Drive-In.

       It was rather strange for a limousine to pull up amidst the flock of classic cars that always hung out there. Arthur lowered the window on Andy's side and Traci said, “Why don't you order for us?”

       A young girl in roller skates, who could have been from Andy's class, but thankfully, wasn't, came to take their order. Andy ordered two burgers, fries and a shake for himself and a burger and lemonade for Traci.

       The carhop seemed very curious looking in and seeing what looked like Traci Montrose with a date that was a real dork. Maybe he's a relative, she thought. By the time she got to talk to some of the other carhops about it, the limo had left.

       The food was just what Andy needed. Traci put a little gin in her lemonade and shared it with Andy. Before long they arrived at a private beach in Santa Monica and drove right in. In the parking lot, Traci pulled off her top and wiggled out of her skirt, revealing no panties. And then, she started undressing Andy until they both were starker’s except for their sneakers–soon, they were off, too.

       Traci said, “Let's go for a run.”

       Andy worried, “Will we get in trouble?”

       “Heavens, no. I've been here before. It's clothing optional.” She was out the door and hitting the sand. Andy had trouble keeping up, but it was exciting watching her legs move and catching up to her beautiful bare butt. He caught her finally and they rolled in the sand. Came up laughing. A woman was on the deck of a beach house directly across from them. Traci and she exchanged waves and took off again. Others, more discreetly, were probably viewing them with their telescopes not trained to view ships or anything out to sea.

       The run was invigorating in the cool night air. When they got back to the car they went in the surf and got all of that sand washed off of their bodies. But the water was bitter cold and Andy's member was deflated from what it had been earlier. Still, he had to pee badly.

       Traci saw his concern and smiled. She squatted down in ankle deep water and encouraged him to do the same. She squealed watching him urinate in front of her. Others may have been watching from the decks or beachfront windows.        

       From there, it was a long drive up Mulholland to the famous overlook where there were a few cars already, but they were able to get away from them and gaze at the sparkling lights of the city below.

       On the way, Andy had explored Traci's thighs all the way to her Brazil waxed pussy and was stroking her clit the way her hand directed him the whole time until she was breathing heavily and kissing him hard. She had removed his pants again and was stroking his member to the point where he felt like he was going to come. She stopped and whispered, “Not yet, hold it if you can.”

       All of the foreplay had made her ready, so she climbed on top of him and with a couple of quick moves, they both had orgasms like neither had before. It totally surprised Traci the way she felt. Was it love? Or just lust from having sex with a teenager. She didn't know. But wanted to know.

       When it was over, Andy was concerned. He asked, “Was that okay? I did something I shouldn't have done. I should've worn a condom. Shouldn't I? What if you get pregnant?”

       Traci answered. “Don't worry, Andy, I wanted you to have that experience, unhindered. I don't have any diseases because I check regularly, and I can't have any babies. Let me explain.” She kissed him softly on the lips and stroked his member gently as she savored the afterglow.

       On the trip back home that had him arrive at an early hour, Traci explained why she couldn't have a baby and why she was dating him and might date others, if he would only understand.

       And, she confessed, “I like you so much that I'd like to have more dates with you in the future. We could start with next Saturday. Is that okay?”

       Andy was so on cloud 9 that he didn't know what to say. “Sure, anytime you want. I promise if you go out with other guys I won't be jealous. But there is one thing that I've been thinking about and want to ask you.”

       “What's that?”

       “My junior prom is coming up next Saturday and I don't have a date. I asked a couple of girls but they've turned me down politely. Would it be possible…?”

       “That would be fantastic! I could come as Mary Crouch from Valley High. Disguise myself and act… I am an actress… Like I'm not Traci Montrose, but just a pretty girl from another high school that none of those stuck ups from your school know and it will leave them guessing long after the prom… Okay?”

       “You're the best, Traci… I can't wait.”

       Andy floated on in and told his mother that he was going to the prom with the girl in the limousine and couldn't contain his excitement all week long, sleeping little and masturbating a lot.

Read Part 3 to find out what happens at the prom and how the story ends.