Chapter 7: Movies And A Long Weekend

By the time the first fevered frenzy ended, so did the movie. Ted slipped another flick into the VCR, and everyone settled back to quietly fondle and watch.

Now, let’s face it. These things are not going to win Oscars. They’re not ‘Gone With The Wind’. I mean, they’re not even up to ‘Plan Nine From Outer Space’. If these people could act, they be acting, right?

Still, there’s gradations even among porn movies. The better ones have at least some level of plot, and a script consisting of more than just dubbed-in moans. The cast has met certain minimum standards for physical attractiveness. And it doesn’t look like Junior did it with Dad’s HandyCam for a grade school project.

And then there was this bomb. How it ever saw the light of day, I’ll never know. I’m not sure I want to know.

After about five minutes of steadily declining quality, several of the guys complained and demanded it be yanked. But, almost en masse, the girls loudly cried to keep it going. They were having a blast! They were laughing to bust a gut!

Now, I’ve often watched dirty movies with women. Debby and I rent one every couple of weeks and watch it after the kids go to bed. Hell, we even made one once. But for us it was simply a form of visual foreplay. We’d watch and play with each other, and then fuck towards the middle or end. We rarely saw the entire thing.

The women were just shrieking with laughter! “ ... look! She can’t even get it up! ... who moans like that? ... those aren’t love handles, they’re spare tires ... he’s got to hold it or it’ll go limp! ... yeah, right, a bikini and an C-section scar ... Christ, if they had put in any more silicone she’d fall over...”

For a second I thought it was just me. Maybe I was just too dumb to figure it out. But I looked around the room and met incredulous stares from the other guys. Without question, all the men had been transported to the Twilight Zone. And the women to the Comedy Club.

“ ... men are such pigs! ... I wouldn’t touch our mailman with a ten-foot pole ... that’s not a cock, it’s a mutation! ... who’d get a tattoo there? ... well, no wonder! She’s so coked up she couldn’t remember the lines with the script in her hands ... and clapped up to boot...”

Thank heavens the abomination was as mercifully short as it was mercilessly bad. But all the women loved it. After a final rousing chorus of “Men are such pigs!” they trooped off together to the bathroom. The remaining six of us were left, simply staring at each other, with dicks and dignity wilting.

The party resumed shortly thereafter. And the wait was worth it. The girls had all washed up and redone their makeup and hair. And Alice had everyone strip and had loaned them matching thigh top stockings to go with their heels. They were intensely eager by the time they came back. But they selected the films the rest of the night.

We got home around one or so. I paid Jenny and watched as she crossed the street and went home. When I came back in, Debby had gone upstairs. I did a fast check on the house and followed her. Didn’t find any evidence of ‘studying’. Maybe I was wrong. Or maybe not. What would constitute evidence?

Debby had simply collapsed on the bed. She looked up when I said I was going to take a fast shower and nodded. But by the time I came out, she was sound asleep. I left her as she was, crawled in on my side, and was sleeping inside of five minutes. At least we had fucked before the party, if not after.

I woke the next morning to an empty bed and the sound of Debby showering. I rolled over sleepily, hoping she’d want to crawl back in with me. When I heard the bedroom door open and close, I realized my luck was shot. Gotta feed the boys. Fuck it, I could use the sleep.

I slowly awoke from a wonderful dream involving Miss November and a blow job to the realization it wasn’t quite a dream. Looking down, I saw Debby kneeling on the bed sucking my early morning erection. She had pulled the covers completely off me. She looked up and smiled. “I told the boys that if they wanted to live beyond today, they’d keep quiet and watch cartoons. And if they didn’t, we wouldn’t visit my mom today.”

Debby for sure hadn’t worn her present outfit down to feed the boys. Bright red crotchless panties and a bright red transparent nightshirt. She took me in her mouth again, and I stretched out and put my hands behind my head and watched. Yes, Alice was great. But Debby was even better. Familiarity does not always breed contempt. In this case, it bred proficiency.

After several minutes of passive, but pleasant, watching, Debby swung her body upwards along the bed. She lay on her side, still doing me, and lifted a thigh, giving me a great shot of her wet, pink cunt. I moved one arm down and began fingering her squeaky-clean clit. A slight shudder went through her body, and a low moan passed her cock filled lips, and she stuck a finger up my ass. Needless to say, I exploded in her mouth.

After licking me clean, Debby crawled up and collapsed half on my chest. One hand stayed on my cock, idly stroking, as she slowly licked my nipples. Yeah, I know, some guys get turned on by this. Not me. But women are always doing this in the movies and romance novels, and I guess she figures it’s sort of automatic. But how do you tell something as stupid as that to a woman who’s really trying to get you going. I think she really believe it works, and it’s not because she’s usually jerking me off or fucking me that has me hard. Like her jerking me off now was getting me hard again. I suppose she feels the same way about something I do to her. Honesty is not always the best policy, and ignorance can be bliss.

Debby drew her legs up and knelt. Straddling me, she used both hands to spread apart the panties and her pussy lips, and slowly sank onto my rigid shaft. She kept both hands on her clit and began slowly rocking back and forth.

Her nipples were rock hard, protruding a full inch from her gently swaying D-cup breasts. I reached up and unbuttoned the nightshirt. It fell from her shoulders, down her arms, and stopped on her forearms. Her hands never left our joined crotches. I moved the shirttails behind her hips. I put both hands behind my head again to watch.