Charlton Heston is a director on a movie and I am hanging around. He calls me over and asks me to evaluate a scene he is going to shoot. I am very pretty and young. I look over the scene: a pond where groups of men are set up in twos and threes ready to ambush the hero. I notice that they are all attached with a rope. I decide this is a "one," a highly difficult scene, because of all the elements. I tell Charlton and he is pleased with my answer. He is now flirting with me and gently maneuvers me into a quiet room and finds an excuse to shut the door. We chat and I am aware of sexual attraction. I know he is going to make love to me and that he is married, but this is OK with me. I like him and am attracted. He lays down on me and I am pleasantly excited and expectant. We manage to get out of our clothes and so on. It is all sort of innocent and one-step-at-a-time as I watch him maneuver the whole thing. Now I am his assistant director and mistress. It all seems OK and nice.