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DRIVER 1: Here ya go. Be careful with it now, it’s an import.

JIM: Oh, yes sir, I will. Bill, could you…?

[JIM jump in the car and squeals off. There is a distant sound of metal crumpling against something large and unyielding]

BILL: Jim is now parking the man’s car, both to cement his disguise and to help defray the costs of our show. Here he comes now.

JIM: (out of breath) Right. We should be seeing her any moment now…
[Another car drives up]
Oh Christ.

DRIVER 2: Hi, here ya go. Hey, what’s up with that car over there?

JIM: Ah, which one, sir?

DRIVER 2: The one that’s on fire?

JIM: Irritable bowel syndrome, you never knows when it’ll strike. Thank you ma’am, enjoy your meal. Be right back.

DRIVER 2: Oh my god…
[She watches, horrified, as Jim peels off]

BILL: Any moment now we’ll see Jim’s remarkable tracking skills in action as he tries to accurately locate Jacqui Harmony’s clitoris. Wait! Wait, I think I see… yes! It’s Jacqui Harmony now, with her current boyfriend and co-star from her latest movie “Not My Proctologist”, Lucas Fromm. Jim better hurry if he wants to… Here he comes! Ooh, this is going to be tricky!

JACQUI: Hi, park it somewhere close, would you?

BILL: Um, yes ma’am. Um, say, um, could I have an autograph?

LUCAS: Oh jeez…

JACQUI: C’mon Luke, gotta be nice to our fans. Thank you, I’d love to. Your clipboard?

BILL: Yeah, that’d be… (coughs, lowers voice) ahem, that’d be great. Right here.

LUCAS: Bad enough you have to make us late with your damn “I don’t know what to wear, I don’t know what to wear!”

JACQUI: (smiling sweetly at Bill) Shut up, Luke. I’m really sorry about this, he’s still pissed about the Golden Globes.

LUCAS: I am not!

[JACKSON comes running up and stops on the other side of the elegantly-manicured bushes next to the restaurant. He is breathing heavily and seems to have a stitch in his side, but at the first sight of JACQUI he drops immediately into a crouch and peers at her through the branches.]

JACQUI: (to BILL) Anyway, thanks a lot. Here you go. What’s this on your clipboard, anyway?

[BILL tries to hide the paper - JACQUI's itinerary, on "Clitoris Hunter" stationery - from her and a brief struggle ensues. Meanwhile, JACKSON skulks around the car and eases forward, step by step. The background music turns dramatic. A small crowd begins to form on the sidewalk around them.]

JACKSON (voiceover): I saw my chance. While her attention was on my assistant and their sissy fight, I worked my way around her. I remained downwind at all times, as ingénues have an incredible sense of smell, plus I had to avoid the direct gaze of her mate. I knew I had to time it just right…

[With a triumphant cry JACQUI wrests the clipboard away from BILL and turns to show it to LUCAS. With the speed of a jungle cat JACKSON sprints forward around her other side and thrusts his arm down JACQUI'S stretch pants.]

JACQUI: Hey! What the hell are you… whoa!

JACKSON (voiceover): I was fortunate in that she was wearing Lycra, which has an easy give so that I could get in there before she had time to react. If you’ll remember, last week’s target was wearing Faded Glory jeans which made my job that much tougher.

LUCAS: What the fuck are you doing to her, man? Goddamn pervert, get off… (he moves to manhandle JACKSON away)

JACQUI: Whoo! Oh god, god!

JACKSON: Easy mate, I’m Jim Jackson.

[LUCAS changes expression instantly.]

LUCAS: Wow, the clitoris hunter? Aw, man, I watch you every fucking week, man! (he starts looking around for the camera and finds it, grins widely) Yeah! (he flashes a double thumbs up)

[Meanwhile, JACQUI is twisting happily around JACKSON'S arm. JACKSON has a grim, determined look on his face. BILL works around him with the hand Arriflex, getting close-ups.]

JACKSON: Now, the… unh… celebrity clitoris is a different beastie fro our usual prey. It can be easy to find, like with your Angelina Jolies, your Drew Barrymores and your Judi Denches, or it can be a hidden thing like with your Sandra Bullocks or your Hillary… Almost…Ha! There she is!

[JACQUI shrieks once and wraps herself tightly around JACKSON, who gently pries her off and, never losing his grip, uses his other hand to carefully spread her across the hood. JACKSON is sweating now, but his self-confidence is apparent as he takes out his hunting knife and c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y cuts around his hand until he can lift the piece of fabric away to expose JACQUI'S entire groin. His right hand never stops stroking, and he uses his left to delicately spread her sweet flesh to reveal his right forefinger squarely on the ridge of JACQUI'S clitoris. LUCAS and the crowd gather around.]

JACKSON: Isn’t she a beauty? It is truly amazing that such a common creature is so incredibly difficult to find, but it takes years of training and practice, as well as a certain natural cunning.

LUCAS: (looking close) Wow. So that’s what it looks like.

JACQUI: Yeah, right there, right FUCKING THERE, yeah, yeah…

JACKSON: Now she’s a shy beastie, and likes to hide under her little hood, but let’s just see if I can coax her out, shall we?

[He drops his face down between her legs, and she convulses once before flinging her arms wide and grabbing the gull-wing mirrors for support.]

BILL: What Jim is doing now is soothing the clitoris with his own tongue, hoping to relax it enough so that it trusts him and is comfortable with its surroundings. He’s very good at it.

LUCAS: I’ll say.

JACQUI: Jesus! Fucker! Jesus! Fucker!

[Around them the crowd begins to applaud; a few take pictures. From behind JACKSON can be seen pulling his head back and forth, darting here and there almost too quickly to be seen. His hands are deft and sure, pulls away. BILL steps up with a Jim Jackson brand neckerchief and JACKSON wipes his face. JACQUI'S clitoris is extremely visible now, and we switch to BILL'S handheld camera for a closer look.]

JACKSON (voiceover): See that pulsing bit, that’s the clitoral glans, at the end of the shaft. (On the screen a small arrow appears, pointing as JACKSON speaks) These lips here, these are the… hold still girl, that’s the way… thems the crura. Very sensitive they are, all by themselves.

LUCAS (voiceover): Right there?

JACKSON (voiceover): No mate, that’s the labia majora. Easy mistake, they tend to run together, but an experienced guide knows. Ah, she’s latherin’. Better back up, this could get nasty.

(We’re away from the close-up and the crowd and LUCAS are being gently but firmly moved back by BILL.)

LUCAS: What’s he gonna do now? Is he…?

BILL: Yes, Jim is a true sportsman, and doesn’t believe in unnecessary cruelty. He only hunts what he is prepared to eat.

JACQUI: YES! YES! Lick it lick it lick it lick it lick it lick it lick it lick it suck it YES! AHHHH! AHHHH! AHHHH!

BILL: Well, that’s all for tonight’s “Jim Jackson, Clitoris Hunter.” Thanks for watching.

(Theme song plays, credits roll over slow-motion shots of JACKSON licking long and hard, JACQUI twisting the car’s windshield wipers into knots, and LUCAS beaming excitedly.)

Nah, knowing him he’d wag his finger at me and tell me which city statute I just violated, little lady. He’s just too damn clean for that kind of thing. He’s never even been seen in public, you know, with anybody, male or female, so if he has a sex life it was a secret, which made sense ’cause he wouldn’t want them endangered, right? But damn. Even the years I was with somebody I was still lusting over him, and since I’m still “presently single” – and have remained “presently single” for two years – I was aching.

He reached St Mark’s and turned slowly to float back down the street and I got to see him from every angle, like he was putting on a display just for me. Big, savory, muscular body in tight spandex, impossibly handsome face with piercing blue eyes and a jaw you could break rocks with, and huge hands that I burned to feel on my body. If it wouldn’t have caused the tourists behind me to have heart attacks I’d have had my hand down my pants already. Turn for me, baby, let me see it all!

His cape fluttered in the wind as he sailed slowly past – oh, jeez, look at that basket! – and a flash of something above him caught my eye. There was something bright spiraling down fast from above and it was headed right for- “Captain Ultimate!” I screamed. “Above you!”

The instant I yelled he was spinning in the air like a gymnast, but he wasn’t in time to avoid the golden missile striking him in the gut and driving him down into the street. The sidewalk rocked and me and a lot of other people nearby got jolted off our feet, but while everyone else was cursing and looking around I was scrambling up to see what happened. There was a largish hole in the road and sounds of battle were coming from below. Oh jeez, oh jeez. What do I do? I could call 9-1-1 but I didn’t know if they handled this sort of thing. Maybe they could connect me with the Justice Team or something.

As I dug in my purse for my cell I heard one big whack! and the gold thing flew out of the hole and smacked into the apartments across the street, taking out some guttering and an entire cornice before falling to the ground in a glittery heap. It looked like a guy in a full-body gold suit, like the shape-changing Terminator in T2 but more economically stable. Then I remembered hearing about this guy, he was called Goldenrod or god or something stupid like that. Bad guy, I think he was the one that blasted the children’s hospital last year. It was hard to get a good look at him, he reflected sunlight like he was mirrored. Of all the times not to have a camera!

Captain Ultimate floated up out of the hole and it was like a freaking movie. He was perfectly clean and neat, like he had just stepped out his front door, and he landed lightly next to where the Golden guy was just getting up again. I gasped when Goldy crouched real quick and slammed a fist into Captain Ultimate’s face, knocking him back through two benches and a mailbox. Jesus, he must be strong as fuck! Goldy laughed and jumped up to ram his foot through Ultimate’s face but Ultimate wasn’t there anymore, he had moved faster than I could follow and he came up behind Goldy to get him in a full nelson.

“Give up, Goldengod,” he said. Yum! My panties plastered themselves to my skin when I heard his voice. So deep, so commanding! “You can’t win!”

“Oh, blow it out your ass, Ulti- whoa!” Goldy shrieked like a little girl as Captain Ultimate picked him up in one hand and slammed his face into the brick wall. While Goldengod was watching the birdies Ultimate grabbed the broken lamppost and quick as a snake twisted it around the glinty bastard like a bow. Goldy dropped to the street with a clank, and Captain Ultimate turned towards me.

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, I just trembled as he floated over and dropped lightly down right in front of me. He looked me right in the eyes and he said, “Thank you, miss. Without your warning he might’ve gotten the better of me.”

Oh my sweet hula-hooping Christ. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a god come down to earth and thank you for something, but if you can manage it I recommend it highly. I couldn’t get the guy at the coffee shop to look my way and here was the most perfect man in the world tugging his forelock at me. I tried to say something worldly and I think I said something like, “Juwabbla frufy?”

He just smiled and took my hand. My heart was pounding and my brain was busy re-routing all the liquid in my body to my crotch. His hand was larger than both of mine and it felt like a concrete catcher’s mitt. I could feel the restrained power in his fingers as he shook my hand once, gently. “I’m in your debt,” he said, and then he smiled and started to turn away and I knew I’d never see him again and there weren’t any coherent thoughts running through my head and my brain shut down and I totally lost it.

“Please fuck me!” I cried, and the world stopped. I heard no traffic, no people, no emergency vehicles as police arrived to arrest Goldy, no nothing. All I could hear was my own heart pounding and my inner voice calling me thirty-three kinds of idiot. Any second now he’d fly off, thinking I was some slut, and I’d never-
He turned around. He actually turned around, and he looked at me. I mean like a man looks at a woman, head to toe and back up again. He lingered right at the places I hoped he would, and I wondered what his super-senses were telling him. Could he tell that my pussy was a marshland and my throat was bone-dry? Could he tell that my nipples were diamond-hard and aching? Okay, you didn’t need super-senses for that one, people across the street could see that, but still. He stepped back towards me and said, “Excuse me?”

Now I had a choice. I could come up with something innocent and non-sexual – “breeze shucked me” or something – to pretend to have said, and I knew he would accept it like a gentleman. Or I could step closer, feeling my breasts spread deliciously across his broad chest, and repeat, “Please fuck me.”

I went with the second one. Hey, I got to push up on him, and just the feel of his rock-hard pecs would fuel my masturbatory fantasies for years to come.

He looked around at the gathering crowds, looked back at me, and then made a split-second decision. Suddenly I was in steel cable arms and we were flying straight up over the rooftops. I wasn’t the slightest bit scared; I was far too busy being excited and aroused beyond belief. Oh god, oh god, tell me this is going to happen! We landed on top of an apartment building in the Village where there was a small garden and a pigeon coop on the roof. Was this where he lived? I resolved not to ask. I didn’t want to know anything about his secret identity, his other life, or any of that shit. I wanted him! As soon as we landed I grabbed his head in both hands and kissed the hell out of him.

Or at least I tried to. His lips wouldn’t bend when I touched them, and when I tried to force my tongue between his teeth it felt like I was trying to French kiss a counter-top. His skin was hot, way hotter than human skin is, and it made me feel even hotter as I dragged my body across his. Even that was more uncomfortable than I expected; his body didn’t give. I mean, at all. He was aroused, I could tell that much (god, could I tell) but even pushing as hard as I could with two fingers I couldn’t make a dent in his skin. He just looked down at me sadly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s the price I pay for not feeling pain or hunger or shock. I can’t feel anything else, either. I was hoping this might have been different, finally.” He smiled a pitiful smile, and even though he was this big-deal superhero I could tell it was the same sort of “this isn’t going to work out” smile I had already seen way too many times in my life. Next would be the crime-fighting equivalent of “it’s not you, it’s me,” and I didn’t need that right now. Besides, I was still dripping and something had to be done about that. Before he could turn or fly away or anything I grabbed the waistband of his trunks and yanked them down in one swift motion.

Surprised the hell out of him, I’ll tell you that. When his shorts hit the ground it put my head at his crotch level and suddenly I wasn’t alone. There in front of me, bouncing gently and mesmerizing me like a venomous snake, was the biggest goddamn dick I had ever seen, with some apple-sized balls swinging under it. I couldn’t help it, I grabbed it in both hands just to feel the heft of that monster and was reminded again of who I was dealing with. It felt like an iron bar. There were thick veins running the length of it, all the way up to a head like a baby’s fist, but try as I might with both hands I couldn’t budge the skin on it. I’ve stroked teak that was more flexible.

Well, fuck it, it wasn’t like I had never stuck inanimate things inside me before, and this one had a man attached. While Captain Ultimate stood there, looking heroically silly with his uniform around his ankles and a startled look on his face, I yanked my dress over my head, stripped off my bra and panties, and dropped to the floor with my legs wide. “C’mon, hero,” I purred, holding myself open for him. “Do your duty.” His mind (or whatever) finally caught up to the situation and he sank to his knees between my legs with the most grateful look I have ever seen on a guy, and I’ve dated comic book fans. I grabbed his cosmic cock with both hands and pulled it up against me. That candy-apple head pushed up against my pussy and I just gushed all over it. It took almost five minutes to work it inside me, and by then I was sweating and screaming from little tremor orgasms. Captain Ultimate hadn’t broken a sweat, of course, but he did look extremely happy. Maybe even if it wasn’t doing anything for him, the sight of me clutching my tits and writhing on his cock would fuel _his_ masturbatory fantasies for awhile, and that was fine with me. He leaned forward and put his hands on either side of my head, looked right in my eyes for a timeless moment, and began to move his hips. I forced myself to relax as much as possible, and then he…

…cried out as a blast struck him from behind and he fell over, slipping out of me with an audible pop. There behind him was Goldengod, mad as hell and fired up. His hands and eyes were glowing with power and I could smell the ozone in the air. “You left me for the cops so you could go tear off a piece? You son of a bitch!” He started laughing and walking around us. “Works for me. Never thought I’d catch you with your pants down, old man, and now it’s time for a little payback. I’ve always wondered what would happen if I fired off a megaburst right into both your ears at once!”

“Oh, thank god,” I breathed, thinking like mad. “I’ll bet you’ve got a real cock in there somewhere!” Goldy turned away from his fun to look at me. I was still lying spread-eagled and gaping, so I arched my back a little to give him a real show. Goldengod straightened up and took a half step towards me. I squeezed a tit and licked the nipple hard before looking up at him. “I can’t fuck him, he’s all invulnerable and shit. Can’t scratch him, can’t bite him, can’t stick my finger up his ass if I ever want it back, can’t do nothing.”
Just to add a little show biz I ran both my hands down my body and stuck them between my legs. “I need to fuck somebody real bad,” I said.  “Are you real bad?” And I gave him my best sex kitten smile.

I couldn’t see his expression through his featureless face, but I did notice a sudden buttery-gold bulge sprouting between his legs. He leaned over and stroked my puss from bottom to top with one long, thick, metallic finger, sinking deep into me as he went, and I gasped from the electric feel of it.  “No,” I managed to say, “I don’t need a hero, I need a man!”

He stood back up and looked at me for a long moment. I was just starting to wonder if I was about to die naked on a roof in the Village when he reached up to his waist and touched something there. With a loud fzzzz noise the gold coating around his body was absorbed into a little egg-shaped belt-buckle and there before me was Goldengod unmasked. He wasn’t bad. Not cute but attractive, in a rugged kinda way, with a cruel look to his eyes. He was busy shucking his pants so I stood up to help him. We kissed deeply and well, chasing each other’s tongues around and around while my fingers solved the mysteries of his trousers and they fell away, revealing a respectable dick indeed. I stepped back to look at it and he stroked it alive for my viewing pleasure.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, with a little smirk on his face. He was still flushed with the thrill of knocking out Captain Ultimate and here was what had to be the big bad guy fantasy.

“Oh, yes,” I said, and I kicked him square in the balls. He kind of hopped when I did that, and screamed, and fell on the roof grabbing at his privates. I took the opportunity to kick him in the head a few times and then hit him with a potted plant until he was out cold.

Great, now I was naked on a roof in the Village with two pantsless mega-humans, each one more than capable of leveling a city block. My horoscope hadn’t mentioned this possibility at all. I looked back at my dream date. Captain Ultimate was lying on his back, arms spread, mighty cock still pointing straight up. God, what a waste of meat! I’d have to be a superhero myself to do anything with…

Goldy’s belt was a basic leather thing, probably from Target, but the buckle was a custom job with an inset-jeweled egg. I put the belt on, said a Hail Mary, and touched the egg.

Instantly I felt a hot buzzing sensation, like I had just stepped into a vat of boiling honey. Something rushed out from my waist and covered my arms, my hands, my feet, my head. I had just enough time to start to scream before it covered my face, and then everything changed.

I had Power.

Suddenly everything around me was crystal clear, like I could see for miles. I felt strong, impossibly strong, and gravity suddenly seemed to be largely optional. I clenched a fist and, as an experiment, punched through the side of the stairwell wall. Didn’t feel a thing. I looked at my hand and admired the way the sunlight played over its shiny metal surface. This was too fucking cool, I was a supervillain! No wonder they acted up all the time, the urge to go kick the shit out of a public building was incredible. I wanted to fly, I wanted to throw cars around, I wanted to…

I knew what I wanted to do.

I wanted to fuck a god.

I knelt between Captain Ultimate’s legs and hesitantly grabbed his horsecock in one hand. At first it felt the same, like grabbing a lamppost, but with a little exertion I was able to grasp it and move the thick skin up and down. I did that for a moment, admiring the way the skin slid gracefully over the massive head only to let it reappear right away, and then I took his cock in my mouth. Have you ever laid your hand on the hood of a running car and felt the power inside? That’s how his dick felt in my mouth. I fought to stretch my jaws wide enough to accommodate him but I could feel the ridges with my tongue, I could squeeze his head between my lips. I used both hands to feed him to me but once I got going I stuck one hand down between my own legs. The golden coating parted immediately for me and my fingers found the old familiar places right away, although they seemed much wetter than usual.

Captain Ultimate woke up. He blinked a couple of times, and shook his head, and then opened his eyes wide. I didn’t stop what I was doing but I did look up at him. He got all panicky and flustered and tried to push my head away. “Uh, Goldenrod, uh. Um, look, I’m not really _that way_, you know, not that there’s anything wrong with-”

I disengaged long enough to say, “It’s me,” and then I dove back in.

“You? Miss? But…” He looked wildly over to where Goldengod, now a butt-naked middle-aged guy, was snoring peacefully. “How did you…?”

I let him pop out of my mouth again but I squeezed him hard with one hand. He jumped. “Do you want exposition,” I said, “or do you wanna fuck?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Oh, thank you,” he said, and he pulled me up to him in a cosmic embrace. This time his lips felt soft and pliable but he still burned hotter than human. He kissed and bit along my neck until I was dizzy with want and he seized my breasts in both hands. They were metallic and durable now, but in his huge hands they bulged and thrilled to his touch. “I’ve never been able to do this before,” he said, with wonder in his voice. He bent and took a gold nugget of a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard with enough power to stop a tornado. It felt heavenly.

Enough of this shit, I had been ready for an hour now. I sprang to my feet, spun around, and leaned against the railing at the edge of the roof. It had taken long enough, now I was more than ready to get pumped good and hard.

And again he surprised me. Captain Ultimate came up behind me, grabbed my hips, and rammed himself home, filling me to the core. As soon as he struck bottom we both cried out, and then he wrapped a mighty arm around my waist, bit my neck, and took off.

I had no time to panic. Suddenly we were a mile above the city, and the sensations of being so completely filled, being stretched were so incredible I didn’t care. I hooked my feet around his ankles and we were off.
We soared back down to swoop through the buildings, zooming around and between them like fighter pilots. We rocketed down the length of 5th Ave, the sounds of people cheering dopplering past us, and then he fucked me down into the subway tunnels. Lights flashing and trains hurtling by did nothing to slow us down. I kissed him hard over my shoulder as he corkscrewed himself even deeper into me and we overtook the B train like it was standing still. He damn near split me in two and I was doing my best to pinch his dick right off his body, and I think we both succeeded. By the time we emerged from the 33rd St station I was being held up by his hands on my tits and his cock deep in my pussy, and that’s how we remained as we left the atmosphere. I had both hands on his ass, pulling him deeper into me, and we erupted together in low orbit where the freezing cold of outer space bit at my stiff nipples and stole our screams away.

One nice thing about cosmic-powered protective full-body armored biocoating; it absorbs fluids nicely.

 

A week later he tapped on my window. I let him in before anyone could see him hovering 70 feet over the sidewalk and we both just kinda stood there, a little embarrassed. Finally I broke and asked, “Seen the papers, huh?”

He looked over at the stack of newspapers and magazines on my coffee table. The sixty-point headlines all said things like, “Captain Ultimate: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell?” and “Ultimate Rough on Crime” and “Ultimate Outed.” On top of the stack was the Post and its full-size front page pic of heroic squeaky-clean good-guy Captain Ultimate apparently buggering the evil villain Goldengod across Manhattan. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve seen ‘em. Leno was worse.”

“Cause you any problems?”

He sat down heavily on my couch. My cat Lady Godiva immediately jumped up on his lap; he stuck a finger out so she could scratch herself on it. “Well, the Justice Team isn’t contacting me right now, I think they’re consulting counsel to see how best to handle it.  The Scarlet Vacuum has been calling me night and day, however.”

“Can’t you just tell them it was me?”

“Not without endangering you, and Goldengod won’t say anything. He’s too embarrassed, the guys in his cellblock won’t stop calling him the Ultimate Bitch.” He chuckled. “On the other hand, no one messes with him.”
I sat down next to him. “But what about you?”

“Actually it’s helped my crime-fighting. Soon as I show up, all the bad guys surrender right away and scream for police and protective custody. It’s been a tremendous time-saver.” He set the cat aside (something only an invulnerable person can do with impunity) and stood up. “You know, I’m going to have to ask for Goldengod’s Mega-Belt back.”

I stood up too, and put my fists on my hips. “You’ll have to come get it,” I said, and I powered up just enough so I could give the front of his trunks a healthy stroke.  “I’m keeping it. It has certain, advantages, that I like.”

He shuddered as his cock shazammed to life. “You’re going to become a superhero? Fight crime and protect the earth?”

“No,” I said, putting my arms around his neck, “but I’ll be here waiting when you get done. You think we can make love without leveling the building, hero?”

His mighty arms wrapped tight around me. “No promises.”

Diltman answered the door on the second knock and stared right at the bag in my hand immediately. Yeah, this was a sale. This mook had probably been oiling himself up all day, just waiting for this. He looked like a man made outta milk, all ivory white and smooth. Little bit of slick, black hair, coulda been painted on, WalMart slacks and a button-down shirt buttoned up to the neck. Not a muscle on him. For all I could tell he didn’t have bones. There weren’t any pens in his pocket but this might be his casual look.

“Mr. Jackson?” he said. Even his voice sounded milky. It was mild and cool and made me a little sick to my stomach. Guess I was Diltman-intolerant.

“Who else,” I said. He let me in, fidgeting like a little kid.

“No one followed you?”

I gawked at him and laughed. “This ain’t a fuckin’ drug deal, boss. Not like I’m dealing in nukes or little boys or something. We’re just two guys doin’ a little business. Got something for you.”

Time to show him his candy. I had places to be and things to buy. I reached in my bag and pulled out the tape. His eyes bugged out. I had to fight the urge to move it around to see if his eyes would follow along.

It was a plain black videotape, like you’d use to tape football games and shit. On the label someone had hand-written “4-24-04″ and added a little heart, so goddamn sweet I wanted to cry.

“Oh, my God,” he said. If Jesus climbed down off the cross and goosed the Pope, you wouldn’ta seen a more awestruck expression. “Is it… real?”

“Yep. First class home-made porno tape of–”

“Don’t say her name!” His scream echoed around the room, startling both of us. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then continued like he was explaining something to his parole board. “Please, I’d rather you didn’t use her name. It seems… wrong, somehow.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Whatever you say, whacko. “Bet you never thought you’d ever see her naked, huh?”

He let out a long, heartfelt sigh. “My fantasies are my own, thank you. But I certainly never expected this. Wait a minute! Oh God, I need to preserve this…” He had a spinning little hissy fit and dug through the stuff on his shelves and on the computer desk just inside his living room, finally turning around with a digital camera in his pudgy mitts. “I want a picture of it.”

“Look, after I’m gone you can–”

He screeched at me. “Now!” Jesus. He was strung tighter than I thought. Suddenly I was sorry I hadn’t just mailed it to him. “Hold it up, quickly!”

I held the tape out at arm’s length while he took some quick shots, praying the whole time he wasn’t going to ask me to lube him up or hold the TV for him to aim his whanger at or something. Wasn’t there a Star Trek convention somewhere he should be at?

Finally he stopped and looked at me. “I’ll need to… um… you know…”

“You want to check it out? Don’t blame you, my man. All those celebrity sex tapes out there, there ain’t a hint about this one, and it blows ‘em all away. You got a VCR?”

“Of course, it’s… um… over here,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the living room. I looked around a little. The inside was even more boring than the outside. I seen crack houses had more décor. It was desperately clean, though, in an eerie, Stepford Wives kinda way. Shrine was probably in the bedroom but there wasn’t enough rubber gloves and Lysol in the world for me to go back there.

Dinky TV, didn’t even have cable, but he had a decent VCR and DVD setup. I popped the tape in while he sat nervously on the edge of the couch. “Takes a minute to get to the good stuff, but it’s worth every minute,” I said over my shoulder. When I looked back I saw the first hint of his real life: there was a rack crammed full of DVDs and videos, and every single one of them had her in it. I mean, I guess, ’cause some of ‘em I’d never heard of. Foreign films, old b-movies, some obvious home-made tapes, everything. Even one that looked like a studio audition tape. Damn. Wonder what that was worth? He might not notice if I…

“You’ve watched it?”

For a second I didn’t know which one he was talking about. Oh, right, the smut. I punched Play and sat back on my heels. “Wouldn’t known what it was otherwise, would I? Sweet stuff, I’m telling you.” The screen fuzzed for a second and then snapped into focus. “I mean, Pamela Anderson doing this kind of shit on camera you expect, you know? Centerfold and all that. But the most prissy, dignified, stuck-up actress in the free world gettin’ nastier than a Hong Kong whore. Boggles the fuckin’ mind, man.”

Showtime. It was obviously a home movie. There was a blonde woman standing in a kitchen, stirring something in a pan and trying a little too hard to ignore the camera.

Behind me, Diltman gave a little gasp. Even without the makeup and fancy lighting, no way that face could be anyone else. After a minute or so she looked up and faked being surprised, really cheesy like. I chuckled. “The Oscar people saw that, they’d make her give hers back.”

That’s the best part of these celebrity sex tapes, watching some famous chick get down and dirty. Pam Anderson, that skating chick, Gena Lee Nolin, Paris Hilton, that lady wrestler, the babe from Survivor… all those years of acting high and mighty before their lowly fans and then there they were on all fours, fucking and sucking away. What’s not to love?

‘That’s her,” he said. “It’s really her.” I looked back. He was fuckin’ captivated, leanin’ forward and starin’ like he was starving and she was made outta peanut butter. Right away I decided to double the price.

On the screen a hand appeared, obviously belonging to the cameraman, and started grabbing at the woman’s buttons. She giggled and pulled away but not before a couple of them popped. She was wearing a white lace bra underneath, real plain, like my sister used to wear. The woman pouted at us and tried to pull her shirt back together. A male voice said, “Come on, babe. Let’s see you.” She made kind of a frowny smile at him and turned away, like she wasn’t gonna do it.

Then she turned back and her shirt was hanging open over the bra. She started doing a sexy little dance.

“Turn it off,” Diltman said. His voice was all shaky.

I couldn’t believe it. “What? This ain’t nuthin’, you gotta see what she does with–”

“Turn it off, I said.”

Huh. Whatever. Guy must get embarrassed easy. But me, I was getting into it. Maybe one more quick peek… I hit Stop and punched Fast Forward real quick, and turned back to hide it. “Hey, no problem, whatever you want. Me, I was paying that much, I’d want to see it first, but it’s your deal. Whoops, here we go,” I said, and hit Play again real quick.

Things had progressed. Now she was bareass and bent over a couch, facing the camera which musta been set down somewhere. Her husband was behind her, pounding her into the upholstery. Her face, even twisted up in that pleasure-pain thing, was something to see. Those famous, world-class titties were squished between her arms, bulging with every thrust, and you coulda cut sheet metal with them nipples. For a woman who made her career playing high society ladies and god-fearin’, inspirational, chick flick women, she sure yelled some nasty shit.

I started getting a boner myself. Goddamn, this was sweet! The lighting sucked, the angle was wrong, and neither of them were doing anything particularly cinematic. They were just fucking the living shit out of each other and the shock of seeing that angelic, dignified face doing those dirty things got me harder than calculus. Last time I saw her in a movie she was playing some imperiled nun or something, and now this. “Not bad for her first-ever nude scene, huh,” I said. I had hit it just right, any second now was the part where she–

Diltman stood up, shaking, and yelled, “I said, turn it off!”

Jesus, for a second I thought he was gonna hit me. “Got it, chief!” I couldn’t help it, I laughed a little while I popped the tape out. He was standing there all imperious but he had a little chubby action working in his slacks. “What, am I sullying the moment for you? Intruding on your special time?”

He twitched a little. There was finally some color in him; he was turning red as a beet. “Let me get your money,” he said.

“I think the price might have gone—” I started to say, but he interrupted me by pulling a bank bag out of a desk drawer, reaching in, and shoving a wad of cash in my hands. Before I could bitch about how small the wad was I saw the numbers on the bills and stopped cold. “What the… this is, like, three times what I asked for!”

“Yes, it is,” he said. His voice was really tight and he was working that empty bag between his pudgy hands like a rosary. “I’m not haggling with you. I have to have this.”

“Hey, no problem,” I said, and handed him the tape. “Glad I could help. Hope you two are very happy together.”

He wasn’t listening. He had the love of his life in the palm of his hand. “She is without a doubt the finest actress of this generation, and I am, without question, her biggest fan. I have seen every movie, play, commercial, and home movie she has ever appeared in, no matter how small or obscure. I have seen the two movies she did that were never released. No one else can own this.”

I started edging towards the door. Got my money, I didn’t need to hear about this chump’s pathetic life. I stopped when he asked, “And this is the only copy?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

He followed me to the door, still clutching the bank bag. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get it?”

“You askin’ if there’s more? Don’t think so. I know her husband a little, they invited me over to a barbecue they had last month. When I ducked inside to take a piss I saw the door to their video cabinet open and this was in the VCR. Seemed like a wise investment, you know? Guys made fuckin’ millions off Pamela Anderson and Paris Hilton and shit. Better than a fuckin’ lottery ticket.”

Diltman nodded. “Do they know you have it?”

“Ha! No way, boss. No one knows but me and you. When I asked around online for buyers I didn’t mention the name, figured I could charge more if I sold the surprise along with the tape. Savvy, huh?”

“Very,” he said. He stepped into his tiny kitchen and came out with a bucket. Something sloshed inside, and there was an odd chemical smell. He looked at the tape for a long second, and then he dropped it in the bucket. There was a hissing noise.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I cried. I lunged forward in time to see the acid bubbling around the plastic case. Already the tape inside was melting away. “You goddamn idiot! If you didn’t want it why did you–” I pulled back when he shoved his face over the bucket and took another picture, this time of the dissolving tape. “You didn’t even watch it!”

He stuck the camera on a little stand by his computer and pressed a button on it. A window popped up on his screen. “I didn’t want to.”

Look, I got no problem with someone wasting money as long as I get it, but this made no fuckin’ sense at all. “The hell you didn’t want to, you were slobbering all over your coffee table! You said you were her biggest fan!”

Diltman stood in front of me. Suddenly he looked less pathetic than he had before. Well, no, he still looked pathetic, but now it was in a scary, Norman Bates kind of way. “I am,” he said. “I love and admire her above all others. No one knows more about her or understands her better. Not her husband, not her mother, not her dog.”

“Then why–”

“Do you think the man that sold the Paris Hilton tape loved her?”

I had to take a second to change gears. The sound of the hissing plastic was distracting. “Wasn’t that her boyfriend?”

“To display a woman to the world in such a situation, without her consent. That’s a kind of rape, I think.” He walked over to his computer and started typing something. “No one who truly loves someone would want to publicly humiliate them like that. I couldn’t bear to see such a private moment downloaded from every x-rated website on the net. They’d stream it, offer clips, make wallpaper, use screenshots to make animations. Inside of a month they’d be selling DVDs from some Russian website and her life would be ruined.”

I backed up against the door. “Well, whatever, but I’m keeping the money.”

“Go right ahead. We made a deal, you and I. And I know that you were truthful and there are no other copies. If you lied and there are more, I expect you to destroy them immediately. Neither will you try to impose on their friendship to look for more, ever again.”

“What? That’s wasn’t part of the deal!”

He reached into the bank bag and pulled out a little snub nose pistol. Piece of shit for anything farther than three feet. Just perfect to tag someone standing in your foyer, though. Fuck.

“I’d like to show you something.” He brought up a window I recognized as an e-mail. He must have had it all ready, with big type so I could read it from where I was. It had my name, what I look like now, a description of my car, my license number, and my apartment address. I felt a headache starting. “This one’s addressed to your wife,” he said. “She’s been looking for you and your missing support payments for quite some time, now.”

“How the fuck–”

“You gave me your real name when you wrote me. There was no  reason not to, I’m harmless. I’m also very, very good at finding things online. Rare movie clips, one-of-a-kind photographs. Police records.”

“Don’t..!”

He clicked once and it disappeared. I screamed at him but he ignored it and brought up another right away. Same thing, this one addressed to the local police department.

“I figure you’ve got some time before your wife gets to you. She might not check her mail that often, might not be able to get here fast enough. The police would show up right away, though, they’re good at that. Outstanding warrant for breaking and entering, another for grand theft auto, and they’ve got some questions to ask you about racketeering. Half an hour after you leave this house they’ll get this, so that’s how much time you have to get away.”

Double fuck. Two clicks of a fucking mouse and this geekwad was ruining my life. I screamed at him. “Why are you doing this? You got the tape, I got the money, what’s the goddamn deal?”

His eyes were dark, glittering beads. There was a beast hiding in the milk now, lurking below the surface, and it was furious. “You raped my beloved. You took something from her that was not yours to take, and you were willing to humiliate her to the world just because you could. There must be a reckoning.”

“Christ! You’re fucking crazy, you know that, right?”

“I prefer ‘devoted.’ One more thing. See this?” He gestured towards the computer screen one last time. There was the picture he’d taken of the tape, clear as anything, with me holding it and smiling like a car salesman. The label was plainly visible. Triple fuck, with almonds.

“If one word of this tape’s mere existence gets out, or there’s any sign that more tapes are missing, and I send that picture to her. She and her husband can make your life much more miserable than I can, I’m sure.”

“I stole a three dollar videotape!”

“Ah, but look what I was willing to pay. That makes it grand theft, at least. I’d certainly be willing to testify as to its intrinsic value.”

He sat back down, keeping the pistol on me, and starting typing left-handed. With every keystroke I could feel my world crashing faster.

“I’m writing her now, anonymously, and sending her the picture of the tape in the acid so she won’t worry. She must be frantic. She needs to know that her private life is still private. You can let yourself out, can’t you?”

For a split second I leaned forward, ready to rush him anyway, but finally I turned and ran for it. Didn’t want to take a chance on Mabel getting her mail and calling the cops to get me. I tore ass home and packed up, left half my shit behind and was out of the state in three hours.

I did take a moment to burn the backup tapes I had made for myself, just in case. Fucker might be watching me, for all I knew. I caught myself looking in corners and hallways for hidden cameras.

For the life of me, I still don’t understand. I mean, you loved someone, you’d want to see her naked, right? Right? When nobody else would know?

Wouldn’t everybody?