Poem: Feeding Frenzy
You wouldn’t believe how long since my last
But I woke up all ready, got to break my fast
Just look at me now, you can see how I feel
I’m a fast-growing boy and I need a real meal
There’s an empty space inside where my hunger resides
There’s only one thing to do, think I’m gonna eat you
I want to snarf you down, your neck’s where I’ll begin
Hit every spot that you’ve got, wherever there’s skin
Gonna eat what I will until I’ve had my fill,
working down and back around and then I’ll come back again
I tried Mrs. Paul, she’s a cold, fishy treat
Got a taste of Little Debbie, she’s a little too sweet
Julia Child has never served what I need
And Chef Boy-ar-dee just doesn’t do it for me
You’re what I want to munch, I need a Hungry Man lunch
I want a dinner hot and steamin’ that I can put some cream in
I want to gobble you up, I want to taste you all day
You’re my all-you-can-eat, you’re my favorite buffet
I want some thighs and a breast then I’ll savor the rest
with strawberries, chocolate, and chilled chardonney
First course will be tongue, delicious and wet
I’ll sample your peaches but I’m not done yet
A piece of your rump roast will do me right
then I’ll gobble your taco the rest of the night
My whole menu’s the same and it all has your name
I’m going to give you five stars, do you take MasterCard?
I want to feed my face, I want to eat at the “Y”
Gonna eat ’til I’m bursting, then wipe my face dry
I hope you got a whole lot and you’re keeping it hot
‘cuz I’m getting up for seconds and a big bite of pie!
Working on your facials
I’d like to take a moment to talk about an important device in your sexual toolbox: your orgasm face.
Do you know what yours looks like? Next time you’re with your lover, ask him or her for a description. Trust me, they’ll be happy to provide one, with the same sort of helpful and enthusaistic imitation they use when demonstrating your snoring for house guests and fellow bus stop patrons. Most likely you’ll see your partner twist his or her face into a pained grimace of soul-wrenching anguish, such as might be seen on a small woman who was giving birth to a luxury car.
Most orgasm faces are wild, uncontrolled, and about as erotic as watching someone get a root canal. And sometimes this is exactly what you want. There are times when the sex is so fantastic you actually experience a phylogenic reversion and drop back a few evolutionary steps to bellow out the war cry of prehistoric man getting a hummer, and that’s great. But that shouldn’t be your only expression. Sometimes it’s the look on your face that tips your lover over the edge and it’s worthwhile to have a few in reserve.
The Lotto Winner
This is the unbelievably happy, open-mouthed grin of a person who can’t comprehend their good fortune, the one that makes you look as if any minute now you’re going to yodel. Think of the hysterical housewives on “The Price is Right” when they win a car, or the teenage girls in old Beatles newsreels. Ideal for your first time, or for your first time with someone you’ll admit to publicly.
The Joan
A “Joan” is what you have during a religious experience. An expression of wonder, of blissful joy, of transcendent pleasure enfolding the Divine, as if in the final moments of your lovemaking you were abruptly touched by God, which is a pretty freaky thought all by itself. An excellent expression for the romantic, it’s often seen during a person’s first encounter with oral sex.
The Scream
Remember what Christopher Reeve looked like when he was Superman in the first movie and he hadn’t stopped the missile in time and there were earthquakes and he’d just saved Jimmy and dammed up a little model city and he found Lois but she was dead and he was too late and he takes a breath and screams loud enough to kill her if she wasn’t dead already? That’s the one. You’ll need that for the first time someone discovers your G-spot and/or prostate, especially if they have cold hands.
The Clincher
So called because this one is guaranteed to utterly melt the heart and crotchal region of anyone. Just as you feel the edge of the orgasm hit, quietly but forcefully say your lover’s name to get their attention and then maintain eye contact as you spasm, letting your lover see exactly the effect their actions are having on you. Keep your eyes open the whole time and try to keep your expression under control; the combination is devastating. Avoid using it during encounters when eye contact is problematic, when there’s more than four people involved, or if your loved one doesn’t actually know you and they’ve just found you standing by their car in the grocery store parking lot.
The Earnhardt
The triumphant face of a winner after a long and physically demanding ordeal, especially those that require goggles. Characterized by good sportsmanship, a determined grin, a cocky attitude, a lot of sweat, and the intense stare of a person white-water rafting through a canyon pass without a paddle. Peter North uses this one a lot.
The Power Grunt
A single impassioned “Uh!” followed by an immediate return of decorum. Perfect for business lunches and people who suffer the ordeals of animalistic mating as their duty to perpetuate the human race.
The Aretha
The one that goes on forever, with a shriek that travels through five octaves and can crack sheet glass.
The Hamilton
A suave and debonair smile, just enough to signal “Yes, I came, and it was just fine, thanks” without messing your hair. Often accompanied with a wink and by making that gun-shooting motion at your lover with your thumb and forefinger while you click your tongue.
The Oh Shit
What you get when you orgasm immediately after being distracted at a crucial time, when for a brief second you forgot you were having sex and were forcefully reminded again with unexpected pelvic spasms.
The Aiken
The kind of face you make when you’re nervously enjoying your first gut-wrenching orgasm after major surgery; you’re loving what’s happening but you’re not confident enough in the integrity of your stitches to really let go. This is the one you use for quiet, intimate moments, like when her parents are still awake. Also often experienced by people trying to do the Scream when they don’t look like Chris Reeve.
The Mona
This serene expression signals the mutually-agreed-upon ending of half a day of tantric non-effort, not much more than a sign to your lover that you’ve peacefully moved past the building-of-shared-kundalinic-energy phase and into the desperately-needing-a-towel phase.
The What-the
An expression of total and flabbergasted surprise, like you’d get from a person who kicked a snowball and wiped out a ski lodge. The effect you want here is the expression that what you’re currently experiencing came out of nowhere and completely snuck up on you. Very handy for pretending that you never knew you were turned on by latex undergarments, or that you had no clue your premature ejaculation was going to happen before you even signed the motel register.
We’ll Always Have Paris Hilton
The blurry-deer-in-the-headlights expression of a person almost too drunk to realize a climax has occurred in their immediate vicinity.
The Squeak Toy
This is the repetitive, involuntary gasping made when the right spot is suddenly found and the person performing the expression wishes to make it clear that he or she will kill you with a cinder block if you don’t keep doing whatever it is you’re doing to that spot until you’re given written instructions to stop.
The Oscar
The expression of bestial glee that you’ve practiced in your mirror until you can snap it off picture perfect at any time. Good for reassuring husbands, impressing business superiors, and getting rid of dates who have been pumping away for a damn hour, it seems like.
The Bonus
The delighted, slightly stunned and very grateful expression of someone who clearly hadn’t expected the second orgasm.
Shock and Ohh
If you’re going to lose control, this is the one to do it with. From this expression, not only is it obvious to the casual observer that you’re wallowing in the greatest feeling you’ve ever had in your life, but you’re not entirely sure you can stop now that you’ve started and one or the both of you may not survive the experience, and you don’t care. Hard to describe, but you’ll know it when you see it, after you come to and check the tape.
Mix and match them according to your needs, and don’t forget that when you’re at your highest point of release and personal joy, your lover can see right up your nose. Have fun!
Gay, Filing Jointly
Current activities in California, Massachusetts, Oregon, and Congress concerning legally-accepted gay marriage is, without a doubt, a huge step forward towards acceptance of alternate lifestyles. For the first time in the history of the United States, significant portions of Americans are willing to acknowledge a commitment between two people of the same gender and extend the same legal benefits that they would to a traditionally marriage, such as the one enjoyed by romantic traditionalist Britney Spears. Obviously this is going to cause a bit of a stir in the different local, state and federal departments as they attempt to modify their existing procedures to accommodate the new customs, but we’re proud to announce that the paper people are more than up to the task, if a bit confused. The Internal Revenue Service has wasted no time in preparing ways to tax this new situation, and we’ve been fortunate enough to obtain a first draft of one of the suggested forms, presented below.
Form 1040Q – Income Tax Return For Single and Gay Filers With No Dependents
Your first name and initial, last name
If a joint return, your spouse’s first name and initial, last name
If a joint return, which one of you is “the girl?”
Home address, number and street, city state and zip
Presidential Election Campaign – would you like to donate $3 towards the election of someone virtually guaranteed to oppose your very existence no matter how obviously butch he totally is?
1. Total wages, salaries, and anything tucked into your Mae West garter during “Hollywood Night.” This should be shown in box 1 of your W-2 form. Please refrain from including comments about your spouse’s financial worthiness.
2. Unemployment compensation, state tuition program earnings, parental “go away” money
3.. Add lines 1 and 2. This is your adjusted gross income.
4. Can your parents claim you on their return? Do your parents claim you when their friends ask?
5. Subtract line 4 from line 3. This is your taxable income.
6. Allowable Deductions – (including, but not limited to, hairdresser tips, approved ointments (see attached list), leather accessories not exceeding $50, charitable donations, and those darling little Rivoli pumps)
7. Earned sexual credit – devices or accessories you have purchased to be used in sexual practices that did not result in a child, thereby saving the state tons of cash.
Dildos
Vibrators
Dental dams
Really soft rope
Condoms, lots of ‘em
Instructional videos
Batteries
Diana Ross CDs
Those butt plug things
8. Add 6 and 7, subtract the total from 5, add an additional $1000 annoyed Christian charge, and then just send us the rest.
9. Special bonus question: could you, y’know, tell us what it’s like? Maybe with pictures?
There are notes scrawled across this form, along with many areas scratched out and some interesting doodles. Some of the suggestions included possible tax breaks for windows and windshields broken in religious fervor, depreciation on last season’s clothing, and deferred state taxes on Melissa Etheridge concert tickets.
Well, they mean well.
Story: P.O.V.
The moon breathed bright blue light through the lace curtains, light which caressed my skin with icy hot fingers. I twirled once, twice, letting my light summer dress swirl around my legs for Robert’s enjoyment. Even though I didn’t dare look at him yet, still I could tell that I had captured his complete attention.
The evening had been more perfect than I had dared hope for. Romantic music, elegant dining, a walk on the beach trading ever more daring flirtations and caresses, and now I was throwing caution to the wind and bringing him into my rooms where the walls were suddenly far too close to contain our passions. His eyes were glittering, shining in the night air, and I could feel the intensity of his stare like a physical thing as it traveled, slowly, across my body. He claimed me with his gaze, and I waited trembling for him to take possession of his new prize.
This has to have been the dullest goddamn night I’ve ever had, she has to fuck me now. Jesus God, please let her fuck me now, maybe a little head action.
My breath caught in my throat when he took a step towards me. In the theater and on the beach, he seemed a virile but charming man. Here in this enclosed space he seems a barely-controlled tiger, a powerful, caged animal eager to let his hunger consume the both of us. I wonder if I’ll be able to handle that which I have called forth? He’s taken only a single step; could he possess that much steely control? For I could plainly see the most visible evidence of his lust for me, pulsing beneath his clothing, twitching promises and ecstasies. A wave of scarlet emotion swept through me and I went to him, casting aside any pretensions towards dignity or my ladylike demeanor.
Oh yeah, she wants it, she just scoped out my dick. Don’t want to look desperate; I’ll let her come to me. C’mere, you hot slut, c’mon and… no! No! Don’t just stand there! What the fuck is she doing?
I stopped before him, trembling. Our eyes never left each other, even as my hands leapt to my breast and began to tug at the buttons on my lavender lace blouse. The soft cloth pulled deliciously across my drum-tight rosebud nipples and I gasped as the chill night air touched my exposed skin. I had to have him, had to have his fire, had to feel his touch, had to surrender myself completely to his rampaging attack and pray that I regained some small scrap of consciousness afterwards.
Goddamn, she has got the sweetest knockers! Billy swore they were fake, ha! Sumbitch owes me $10 now. Let’s see, he’ll probably be at the bowling alley by the time I get out of here… Jesus, if I touch her I’m gonna pop, I know it. I’m throbbing like a diesel rig. Baseball, baseball… Dream Team! Starting pitcher… Koufax? Seaver? Maybe Palmer…
He stood there, dark and handsome, silently daring me to come closer, making me come to him. His masterful command of my emotions only increased my desire, and the courage of my wanton act seemed almost childish in comparison. I could feel the heat between my legs infusing my thighs with electric pulses of energy, I could feel my very womb clutching in the maddening desire to be filled. He remained stock still even as I put my arms around his neck and cried out when the bristles of his chest hair brushed across my tender, tightening nipples. I pressed myself to him, pushing my body to mold to his hard contours, only thin layers of cloth separating us from our rapturous bliss.
CATCHER! Ivan Rodriquez! Um… shortstop… oh, fuck it. I grab her and start kissing her hard, shoving my tongue into her mouth like there was beer in there. Grabbed a big round funbag in each hand, did a little hip-thrusting move into her cooze and started laying the moves on her. Chicks dig it if you tongue-kiss for at least 15 seconds before you go for her twat, shows you’re sensitive and shit. Six-one-thousand, seven-one-thousand…
His muscular tongue thrust itself down into my willing mouth, quickly overpowering me and laying to waste my last few lingering thoughts of resistance. I felt my breath leave my body as I clung to him, cradled in his steel-cabled arms and fighting to return passion to match his own. Just when I thought I might be able to simmer my boiling blood and allow thought to guide my actions, he pulled away from me with the timing of a bullfighter and thrust his hand into my skirt, completely taking me by surprise with his audacity and nerve. His thick fingers flexed between my legs, darting here and there in a maddening, unpredictable whirlwind that nearly caused me to swoon with delight. Helpless with the sensations, I tried to thrust against his fingers but I could not match his movements or find his rhythm and the efforts left me breathless and aroused beyond belief.
Where is the goddamn thing? Is that…? No, that can’t be… I think that’s a mole, but… son-of-a… just rub, dammit, you’ll hit it sooner or later.
My arms fell to my sides as I collapsed against him. No worry of falling; he held me easily, one arm around my shoulders and one hand alternately caressing and stroking the very spark of my fire. Not content to pluck the strings of my fleshy lute, his hand roamed where it would, exploring my deepest secrets as no man ever had. I felt as if I were a doll, picked up and pleasured by a giant as I rode on his hand.
Christ, she weighs a ton! I work the button and get her good and wet ’til she’s begging for it, and then drop her on the bed so I can get my pants off. Oh, yeah, this is gonna be good!
My giant released me to fall from the heavens to bounce on a cloud, and he stood over me like a gathering storm, preparing to drench me, buffet me and strike me with lightning, again and again. I laid myself open to him, with no more control over my fate than over the sky itself.
That oughta be enough, she’s dripping. I yank my belt open and drop trou. There he is, my best buddy. Nine solid inches of manmeat and it’s all ready for her. I stand there with my hands on my hips and wait for her to start gobbling.
He revealed himself with a flourish and my last bit of resistance melted away. I don’t flatter myself that I am irresistible, but what other man on this earth could remain flaccid in this situation? His love and his respect for me were made manifest by his simple demonstration of vulnerability and trust. Where I had been nervous before, now I was completely at my ease and my feelings of wantonness returned; reaching up, I touched his member hesitantly, like stroking a baby bird. Like that bird it stirred beneath my touch and so I laid it on my palm and kissed it, lightly, as it began to stretch and rise to greet me.
With a mighty gulp she takes my stiff cock into her mouth and doesn’t stop until her nose hits hair. Her head pistons back and forth and her tongue works it’s magic up and down my shaft while her hands grab my ass to pull me farther down her throat. I grab the back of her head and hold it steady so I can fuck her mouth, and she fucking loves it, sucking harder than ever and moaning. I can see her hands moving down to squeeze her titties and work the nipples while I pound into her face.
What a wonderful present he gave me! Just when I was mentally preparing myself for ravishment, he puts me in control and at ease, and so naturally I became even more lascivious and hungry for him. He looked down at my ministrations with a calm smile, and I ached to force a passionate response from him. I wrapped my hand around my new toy and stroked from the base to the tip in long, even strokes while looking him straight in the eye. He closed his eyes for a moment and gasped, and suddenly my fingers were forced apart, struggling to touch each other around the hard velvety shaft as it grew with every throb. It was a mighty beast, proud and firm, with a thick mushroom head and velvety skin stretched tight over a taut muscle. He stood perfectly still as I ran my hands back and forth across him, exploring his every hidden pleasure and crevice until there was no part of him that was unfamiliar to me. By now the cicada cry of my womanhood was buzzing for attention, surely he could hear it? I could hear nothing else. Surely he would take pity on me and grant me my deepest desire?
Just as I was about to lose and spurt all over her face, I pulled her off me and pushed her back to the bed. She spread herself with her fingers, begging for it, but I had other ideas in mind. I knew what would drive her wild, cuz of what Jimmy told me that night after his prom, and I needed to throttle back before I blew a load over her sheets. I grinned at her and planted my face right into her muff.
God help me, I was undone! When he eased me gently back amongst the sheets I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for his rough entry, but he surprised me once again. My demon lover’s tongue struck like snakebite on my most private places, leaping here and there before his mouth opened and he all but devoured me. I writhed and tossed my head back and forth as his ravenous mouth took me in entire, and a small voice in my drowning consciousness feared he would not stop until I died, while the rest of me feared he would.
I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I know I lick this part, I think, but am I supposed to stick my tongue in here or what? She’s no help; she jumps around no matter what I do. God my neck is getting sore. How long do I have to do this before I can stop without her getting mad? I need to talk to Jimmy some more? Okay, thirty more seconds and then I fuck her before my tongue falls off. One-one thousand, two-one thousand?
Mindless and animal, I rode his powerful jaw and danced on the tip of his tongue until the surges nearly overcame me. Again and again he brought me to the very brink of ecstasy, always stopping with the precision of a master musician. I was breathless and shaking when he sensed that I was nearly dead from pleasure, and he moved up to rise over me. Oh, has there ever been a greater moment in my life, when my one true love looked down upon my naked form and found me fair? For I could see the fires in his eyes, banked but not cooled, and I ached to draw out that flame and blend it with my own. He entered me then, without warning or preamble, and made me his forever. But again he surprised me, because after his single masterful thrust he stopped, filling me utterly, and kissed me with infinite gentleness. It was as if he wanted my body to know that it was forever his, the attitude of a man entering his house for the first time. I was possessed.
Thirty! Time for some serious deep-dishing! I got up on my knees and rammed it home. Jesus! Damn, that feels good! I had to stop immediately cuz I could feel my balls tightening up and I knew if I shot off that fast she’d be mad. Um, um? third baseman? No, no, try math. Eleven times eleven is a hundred and twenty-one, eleven times twelve is? jeez, I’m not gonna make it?
Finally he began to move, with an aching slowness that allowed me to feel every ridge and valley on that blessed invader. Back and forth, maddeningly slow, until out of desperation at my own condition I began to rise against him, arching my hips and lunging to meet him as he descended. Ah, sweet heaven, I cannot describe the sensations as he silently taught me the ways of being a woman! Striving together to bring each other such pleasures as we could never achieve apart! My blood sang in my veins and crashed in boiling waves in my brain as we clung to each other with our arms and legs and minds. Just as I could hold back no longer I gazed deeply into his fevered eyes and saw his passion ready to release. Suddenly he moved with a terrifying intensity, thrusting into me with maniac strength, finally driving me over the edge of insanity and into the screaming abyss.
Oh shit, I’m losing it! I was okay til she started moving, goddamn, here it comes? ah yeah! Yeah! Fuck yeah! Yeah! Take it you bitch! Unh!
Sweet merciful God! Ah! My mind explodes into a thousand scintillating bits as the universe pours itself into me and fills me with power and heat and searing hot liquid. I am the earth, fecund and new and rolling with volcanic explosions, and lightning has struck me, again and again, to create life! When the sensations finally fade after a thousand years, I looked up to see my demon lover gazing at me with a boyish grin and a lover’s sure knowledge. I threw my arms around him and held him tight, at once embarrassed that any person could have such perfect control over my body and mind, and filled with delight that it was this man and that we were now together for eternity.
Damn, that was good. Jeez. Maybe now we can skip all that dating shit and get straight to the humping from now on.
Wonder what’s on tv?
Story: Fast-Forwarding
One of those occasional coincidences; I was heading in my apartment the same time that my neighbor Bert was coming out of his. “Hey, Lee! Glad I caught you, man, I’ve been wanting to get this back to you.”
He ducked back in his doorway and came out with my video camera. “I really appreciate you loaning us this. We taped our whole weekend, it was great!”
“No problem, dude.” And it wasn’t. Bert and Gina were one of the nicest, happiest couples I’ve ever met, and more to the point they were good people to live next to. No weird bumps, no odd smells, no kids, quiet pets, and if they had a loud party they invited me to it, so no problem there. An example was the camcorder in my hand. They’d borrowed it for the weekend and here it wasn’t even dark Sunday night before they got it back to me. Good people. “You could have kept it longer if you needed to.”
Bert grinned. “Might take you up on that. We had a lot of fun with it. I gotta go pick her up from her sister’s, I’ll see you later. Thanks again!”
I walked slowly when I entered my place so as not to kick the cat I knew would be winding himself around my feet. It’s nice to have someone happy to see you when you come home, and Buzz was a pretty happy cat. I bent down and scratched him under the chin for a minute before heading for the fridge. Beer, beer, beer… ah, beer! A cool can or four and already my workday started to fade.
All the elements of a perfect single guy evening were before me – many beers, a comfy couch, and my devoted mistress: cable. Was there ever such a loving and loyal lover? She was always there for me, she could be turned on with a single touch, and she never complained if I twiddled her knobs in the middle of the night or fell asleep while she was still going. I kicked off my shoes, sat back, and waited for her to dance for me.
She let me down, the bitch.
The Simpsons was pre-empted for some political crap. No good shows or games on, no exciting disaster to watch, nobody getting kicked off an island or having their singing voice nationally insulted. Even the Spanish channels were boring, and they’re almost always good for a wild game show or a steamy soap. Feh! What was I supposed to do now? Read?
Ah, well. Like many another guy whose ladyfriend wasn’t in the mood, I turned to porn. Another benefit of living alone: you can whack off whenever and wherever you felt like it, a perk I took full advantage of as much as the flesh allowed. However, this required different props.
Lotion and a towel, first off. Whichever sin I ultimately committed, it would require lubricant and proper cleanup. If you’ve ever woken up in the morning to find that someone had broken into your house in the dead of the night and dripped airplane glue all over your stomach, you understand perfectly why cleanup is so very important. Doubly so if you used lotion, something that isn’t strictly necessary for successful and entertaining whacking, but the difference between slippery strokes and a dry hand was like filet mignon versus a Big Mac. Fortunately I keep both of these essentials close at hand.
Next was inspiration. This presented a problem. I was too wiped out to go online and surf for anything, and everything I had in the house was well-used and familiar. I really, really didn’t feel like going out to see what my favorite sleazy pornshop had going, and that left old memories or pay-per-view. For a brief second I thought back to the wild and intoxicating jackal sex I’d had with my ex-girlfriend, and even managed to start getting hard before the inevitable memory of her hurling a CD player at my head muscled into my brain.
Pay-per-view it was!
I set the tools of my trade on the coffee table and looked around for the remote. Whoops, there it was, up on the kitchen counter. What asshole left it there? Duh, me, five minutes ago, while I was pondering my options and getting another frosty one. I pushed off the couch, stumbled back into the kitchen and started to grab the remote to begin my wank session. Hey, there’s the camcorder!
I’m the first to admit, I’m a slob. I dress okay and keep myself cleaned up, but my apartment is a total wreck. No one here to please but myself, and as long as I know where everything is I’m okay. I’ve found that after a year or so the laundry and dishes have achieved a sort of balance where clean articles are produced at roughly the same rate as old ones are soiled, and most of the rest exist in a dream-state of various levels of dirtiness. But my electronics are different. They represent my main avenues of escape and as such must be kept in top working order at all times, which is why even in my current level of inebuation… inebreehation… inoob… shitfacedness I immediately grabbed the camcorder bag to get it charged up and put away.
Huh. It was fully charged. Now that was really cool of them, to give it back just like they borrowed it. Best fucking neighbors in the world! I raised my can to them, or at least towards our shared wall, and then went to put the camera away.
There was a tape in it.
Oh, man, that’s too bad. They forgot their tape! Shit. I’d better get it back to them, they might be going crazy trying to find it right now. I got halfway to the door before I remembered that Bert had left for Gina’s sister’s place, and that was an hour away. Oh, well, they can pick it up tomorrow, Maybe I can put it in their mailbox or something. I popped it out and looked at it. No label, and it was rewound. Maybe it was blank? I flipped the little window out and switched it to Play to check it out. No sense giving them back a blank tape, it might even be one of mine I left in there.
Nope, it wasn’t. Right away I saw Bert’s silly grin. He backed away from the screen and I could see a bedroom behind him, he must have been playing around with the camera to see how it worked. Ha! Too bad he didn’t point it at Gina! There’s someone I’d love to see barefoot up to her eyebrows. Hot, hot looking babe there. I hadn’t talked to her as much as I had Bert but every time I did I had to fight to keep my eyes above her neck. The cool thing was that it was always obvious she knew it, and was trying not to smile. I must’ve gotten points for trying. With any luck she’ll be home tomorrow when I hand this back, and she’ll smile at me again.
On the tiny screen, Bert sat on the bed, said something, and waved at the camera. I waved back, and then started to turn it off when Gina walked into view.
She wasn’t naked, but it was a near thing. It looked as if someone had thrown scarves at her from all directions and some of them had stuck. She stopped in front of Bert and a scarf slid off her thigh and fluttered to the ground. Bert took a deep breath. So did I. She was glorious. Thick auburn hair curled in jungle snarls halfway down her back, and there were no visible tan lines on her very visible ass. She put her hands on her hips and started to sway back and forth in a very slow, very rhythmic movement that had Bert’s full attention. There wasn’t a man alive who could tear his eyes away from that sight.
I slammed the screen shut. Holy shit holy shit holy shit!
Five minutes later I was still rocking back and forth on the couch with my arms wrapped around my knees, staring at the camcorder on the coffee table in front of me. I was proud of myself; I had only started to turn it back on about a thousand times. My neighbors, my incredibly attractive neighbors had taped themselves fucking and I had the tape. And they weren’t around. And I had no idea what to do about it.
I couldn’t keep it. Leaving it in the camera was too obvious a mistake, they’d ask me about it sooner or later and I always was a shitty liar. “Say, Lee,” they’d say. “Did we happen to leave one of our tapes in that camera?” And I’d say something brilliant and debonair like, “Why yes, I believe you did. Hang on while I go get it out of the bathroom.” I couldn’t hand it back because then they’d know I watched it or I wouldn’t have known it was theirs. “Here, this must be yours, I dusted it and none of my prints were on it.” What did that leave? Mail it to them anonymously?
You have to understand, I was a nervous wreck. Not only was I half-drunk and in a state of high arousal from just a glimpse of Gina’s scarf-wrapped behind, I was seriously worried that I was witnessing the crashing end of what should have been a pretty good friendship. If this had been two total strangers, or if I hadn’t liked them, no big deal. But even if they didn’t know I had seen this, in my mind it would push our relationship over an edge. All over a stupid mistake. Better if they lost the goddamn tape. Maybe I could destroy it and just act stupid if they ask about it.
Or… wait wait wait wait wait. If they can’t find it at all they’ll be worried sick wondering where it’s going to turn up. How about… how about if I just left it in the camera and stuck the whole thing in a closet somewhere? Then if they ask I could go, I dunno, lemme check, and we’ll find it together! Perfect! Then they’re happy and relieved, I’m happy (and relieved), and the problem is solved.
Except for one thing. I really, really wanted to watch that tape.
I mean, damn. Gina was probably the most incredible woman I had ever seen in real life. Bert wasn’t a dog himself, and if I were being completely honest (which I was, as long as no one could hear me) I wouldn’t mind seeing him naked either, but there was no question which one would have my attention. How could I let this once-in-a-million opportunity pass? My dick had already voted with a big thumbs-up. Maybe I could just watch the strip show part, and then stop before it got too intense. Maybe I could swim to the moon if I could hold my breath long enough.
I suddenly realized I was gripping my cock through my pants, just at the thought of watching the tape.
That did it; there was no way I could ever sleep again if I didn’t deal with it. I jumped over the coffee table and leaped at the video rack by the TV, hunting furiously for the minicassette adapter. Bad enough I was going to violate my friends’ trust, but damned if I was going to do it on a teeny little video screen. I found it under a stack of old vacation tapes and reverently laid Bert and Gina’s sex life into its snug container as I knelt before the TV like a kid watching cartoons on Saturday morning.
Then I panicked, and ran to lock the door and pull my shades down. And lock the cat in the bedroom. And unplug my phone. For the first time in two years I was feeling masturbation anxiety, and it was an odd sensation indeed. The feeling that there were eyes everywhere, that the second you let your guard down and relaxed in the moment, someone would bust the door down and catch you shooting goo all over your belly. It’s a truth that during masturbation the most sensitive part of your body is your ear. No matter how much your mind tells you that you’re deep-dicking Angelina Jolie in the forgotten tomb of an ancient pyramid, your ears know that your mom, wherever she is, can hear you, even if she’s dead. The feeling is exponentially worse relative to the amount of accessories or procedures you regularly enjoy. If someone strolls in while you’re just yanking away it’s not nearly as bad as if they caught you with a bucket of baby oil, a handful of goose feathers and a catcher’s mask on. It looks more premeditated.
In this case it was even worse. What could you say to someone who walked in you while you were pleasuring yourself to their sex life? “Hey, I was just thinking about you!” It lacked something.
I stopped short of taping over the keyhole, then I taped over it and the peephole anyway.
On the couch, got my beer, got the remote, lotion and towel are standing by. I clicked the remote and Bert was grinning at me again. Once more I watched him back away and sit down, again I watched him say something and wave. I didn’t dare turn up the sound for fear of hidden listening devices my priest might’ve planted (masturbation anxiety is a crippling thing) so I contented myself with pulling my pants down and waiting.
Gina came back out, and I thanked the gods I had popped for the 36″ Trinitron. Oh, Jesus. I couldn’t find a flaw on her, and I looked really hard.
This time when she danced I let her keep going. She kept eclipsing Bert as she jerked her hips in little hula movements, but I could tell he was smiling wide enough to hurt. She turned around and bent over a little, which put her exquisite butt in his face and let her breasts swing free and heavy under her scarves. I reached for the lotion. And she smiled at me.
What the fuck?
I paused the tape. She was bent low, hands on her knees, while Bert was gripping her legs and busily doing something between her legs. And she was smiling at me.
Duh! At the camera! She’s smiling at the camera, she doesn’t know I’m alive. Fucking paranoid idiot, drunk idiot. I clicked the Play button and she said something, still smiling, and suddenly it was vitally important to me to know what she said. I stood up and waddled to the set, pants around my ankles, turned it up (fucking remote’s for the VCR, no idea where the TV one is) and hit rewind. She wiggled crazily for a minute and stood up; I hit Play again and watched her bend forward slowly and smile up at me. “You like?” she said.
That didn’t sound like they were making it for themselves. Unless she was talking to some future Bert, and that didn’t sound right. I rewound the tape and started it again, and this time when Bert sat down he said, “You ready? Hope you like it.”
This was too fucking weird. They made a sex tape for somebody. They meant for someone else to see it.
Maybe me?
Maybe they left it in the camera on purpose?
No way. This doesn’t happen, I’m not one of those “I never thought it would happen to me” people, I’m not a student at a small Midwestern college, and I didn’t order pizza or maid service. They must’ve made it for friends. Only I’ve never noticed them socializing with other people. Their parties are usually people from the building or from their jobs, and I didn’t see them mailing it to her sister. Or maybe they did, what the fuck did I know?
Or – the thought wouldn’t go away – maybe they made it for me.
My cock certainly seemed to think so, but I couldn’t bring myself to continue. It still didn’t seem fair to me. What was I supposed to do now? Hand it back, go, “Thanks, nice tits, see ya later”? Whatever you can say about me, and people have said a lot, I believe in balance, fairness. And I was just drunk and horny enough to think of a way to make it seem right, or at least even the potential humiliational playing field.
I showered and shaved. Brushed my hair, put on nice clothes, the works, just like I was going out on a date. I set up the camcorder with a fresh tape and my tripod, pointing at the couch. I even cleaned up a little in that area, shoving papers and cups out of range. Then I hit Record, and sat on the couch. “Thanks,” I said to the camera, loud and clear, and I hit Play on the remote and watched my friends play with each other.
While it played through the opening scenes I unbuttoned my shirt. When it got to where she turned and bent over I let my hands roam over my chest the way I wanted to touch her tits. I was suddenly glad my job kept me in shape. I wasn’t Brad Pitt, but at least I wasn’t packing a spare tire yet. On the TV she cupped her magnificent breasts and held them up for me to see, and I let a hand drift down to rest on the length of my jeans zipper. She caught her nipples between her fingers and rubbed them for me. I spread a bit of lotion over my chest and my own erect nipples. One thing I’ll say for my ex-girlfriend, she helped me discover a lot more fun things you can do besides pump your dick.
Gina stepped away from Bert, who was looking a bit frazzled. His hair was messed up and his pants were definitely full. Gina walked towards the camera, curves combining and swaying, and adjusted it until it was focused tight on Bert’s crotch. While she walked back to him I unbuckled my belt and laid my right hand flat, ready, just underneath my waistband. She knelt on the floor by their bed and, watching something offscreen for guidance, she turned him so the camera caught them in profile. She rubbed her hands back and forth over the tented front of his shorts, and I ran my hands over my own bulging jeans in response.
A quick zip and my cock, impatient and angry, leapt forth even as she yanked Bert’s shorts down to release his own happy flagpole. She seized it in both hands, stroking and rubbing, before giggling at Bert. Then she turned and smiled at me, and, never losing eye contact, she opened her mouth and swallowed him.
I began to stroke in time with her.
Up and down and around and around she went. There are some girls who act too hesitant when they blow a guy. They’re afraid they’ll look weird, or they don’t want to do it in the first place, or they don’t really know how. Gina sucked cock like she lost her wedding ring in there and had to get it out quick. The urge to jackhammer myself and come right away was overpowering, but I restrained myself. I had my pride, and permanently recording my premature ejaculation on tape wasn’t the best way to win friends. Instead I downshifted and just gave myself maintenance strokes to keep things hard. Like it really needed it, my dick was so hard it felt like my entire lower body was erect.
Gina was using her hands on him now while she sucked. That seemed like a really good idea, so while I kept stroking with one hand I moved the other down to my balls. I tugged at the loose skin there and got everything in one hand, mostly, and gently squeezed and moved it around in a circle while I let my right hand slowly stroke from base to tip at the same time. Every time my hand hit the sweet spot under the head, my whole cock jumped and I made a little “ah!” noise that I hoped the camera was picking up.
Bert had had enough. He sat up, momentarily pushing Gina’s head out of the picture, and I was treated to a view of his wet cock bouncing madly as he twisted around on the bed. This was replaced with Gina’s stomach as she sat down, and then her beautiful pussy when she laid back and spread her legs. She had thick and meaty lips, already glistening and starting to gap open, and I hungered to taste them. Bert did it for me, with loud smacking sounds, and Gina made some loud smacking sounds of her own to encourage him. I stopped stroking almost entirely, afraid I’d lose it and wanting desperately to wait until he and I entered her. Also because, while I love few things better in life than to go down on a juicy woman, I usually fast-forward past that part in my porn. Not visual enough, I guess. Doing so here seemed rude however, so I waited it out and imagined being Bert just then.
He kept at it for an admirably long time until she finally came hard enough to bruise his nose, and the sound of that almost caused me to lose it no-hands. She sat up and kissed him deeply. I reached for the lotion and doled out a handful. Keeping one hand firmly on my nuts I brought the lotion-filled one around until it was just above my straining dick, and I waited. On the screen Bert laid down again and Gina straddled him, facing me. She lowered herself slowly until the head of his dick nudged the dripping lips of her pussy; I let my hand drop until my cock pushed against its slippery bottom. At the same instant he slid into her I forced my dick into my fist, and almost immediately I came hard and fast, long ropes launching from me like Silly String. My hips jerked over and over and I grabbed my cock with both hands, fucking them harder and harder until the spasms subsided.
When I could breathe again I was sitting half on and half off the couch, my hands and lower body a gooey mess, and on my television a beautiful girl was bouncing madly on a good-looking guy’s crank.
Okay, so he lasted longer than I did. But in my defense it must be noted that I had been saving up, and I had plenty more tape to fill before I gave the camera back to them.
Boy, I really, really hoped they did mean for me to see this.
