Porn

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Monica’s room remained empty the next morning. She’s spent the night with the boyfriend, Katie figured and blew it off. It wasn’t the first time so, with it settled in her mind, Katie dressed in jeans, a checked flannel shirt and headed out. She would grab coffee in the school cafeteria. At the loading gate, she swapped out the SM memory cards before hauling the cases and photo floods inside.

With a coffee in one hand and the memory cards in the other, Kate stopped by the editing studio to check on the availability of a computer. This early in the morning the place was void of both teachers and students which suited her fine, considering the images she was about to download onto one of the school’s machines.

The tennis match had lasted over an hour so with three cameras rolling, Kate had a hundred and eighty minutes of raw material to wade through. She began by editing out any of the shots that included Biff, and especially the spanking. In all likelihood, she concluded, Monica’s boyfriend would not appreciate seeing his girlfriend’s bare bottom being smoked by another man; a stranger, no less.

Kate’s first class was at nine and she worked ‘til ten to the hour before saving her edited footage. It was still too long; almost forty-five minutes long. But she was pleased. All three cameras had provided excellent shots from different angles, well lit and focused. Kate had the groundwork for an exciting, if not a provocative video. Only trouble was, who could she show it to?

She had a full slate of classes but Monica’s nude tennis video was foremost on Katie’s mind. She found herself consumed with the new project and by four-thirty, had mapped out her approach for the finally twenty-minute disc. Kate got comfortable in an editing booth, loaded her material into the computer and began to work.

Kate envisioned a fast-paced video with lots of short, action-packed shots of Monica in motion about the net. But she also interspersed several slow motion sequences: Monica air-borne, her naked body fully elevated as she stretched for the ball. Her skin beaded with sweat, her hair flying, her breasts lifting, her n*****s extended.

Kate dubbed in some raunchy music and adjusted the visuals so Monica belted the ball in time with the throbbing bass-beat. Wearing headphones, Katie watched her work unfold while she hammered the desktop to the pulsating rhythms. It was like watching a rock video. “Yes!”

She placed her disc and memory cards in her shoulder bag at seven-thirty. Katie purged the computer then headed home. The disc seemed to be hot-on-fire and she couldn’t wait to get back to show the results to Monica. Kate took the elevated walkway over the highway, crossed the parking lot and, after using her key in the security door, she turned the corner and looked down the hall. The door to Apartment 101 was ajar.

That wasn’t right. Both girls were fully alert when it came to security and it wasn’t like Monica to leave the door open.

“Monica?” Kate moved the door back with her toe. “Monica? You here?” Kate tried again. But only the empty echoes of a departed girl answered her call.

Katie thumbed the light switch and looked along the hallway. No movement. No sound. She took halting steps and found Monica’s bedroom door open. Katie reached in and flicked on the light. Monica’s clothes and all of her cosmetics were gone.

And there wasn’t even a note.

She twisted the lock on the apartment door before moving to the fridge. Katie sighed. Monica had even taken the leftover pizza. Katie made herself a stiff drink and, disgusted, she tossed the video disc into her desk drawer.

Saturday was dedicated to vacuuming, laundry and a run to the grocery store. Katie dropped by the school to pin a notice on the bulletin board inquiring about a new roommate. She also reserved a shoulder camcorder for the next day. There was a college game on Sunday and she had agreed to work with Erica, filming an interview with one of the team players.

From a hundred yards away, you could tell Erica was a jock. She had the size and stance of a weight trainer, or maybe a roller derby queen. A big boned girl, her parents had immigrated from some cold, snowbound mountainous Scandinavian country. Sweden, or Switzerland maybe. Some god-awful place where all you ever did was ski, or chop firewood; even in summer. But Erica portrayed all of the desirable characteristics that defined her heritage: Head of blond hair, high cheek bones, wide smile and icy blue eyes.

She was a bit meaty and, in later years, a calorie counter would be her constant companion but for now Erica had the randy look of a woman who could take it, as well as dish it out. Erica was second year journalism and had aspirations of, one day, commanding a sports deck at a regional television station. And she had the looks and personality to pull it off.

“Hey Katie,” she beamed, watching Kate haul the video camera from the back seat of the Honda. “Thanks for doing this.”

Kate liked Erica and they had worked together a bunch of times. “Not a problem. Helps my grades too, you know.”

“Still, giving up your Sunday– I appreciate that.”

Kate nodded, shouldering the camera. “What you got lined up for us?”

Erica checked her clipboard. “Interview with the new defensive tackle. Let’s go see how he’s makin’ out.”

They found Angelo seated on the bench and watching two quarterbacks warming up; tossing the ball in tight spirals. Erica introduced herself and suggested they move to a quieter spot, around the end of the bleachers. Angelo seemed to lighten at the suggestion.

Katie ran the microphone cord, plugged in the power-pack and hoisted the camera. “Ready.”

Erica looked up into the camera and smiled “This is Erica Svenson for Sidelines and we’re pleased to be introducing our viewers to The Lancers’ new defensive tackle, Angelo Cane.” She slipped in close beside Angelo to make for a tight shot and positioned the mike so it didn’t cover her sexy smile. “You’ve freshly arrived, Angelo; fitting in okay with the squad?”

Angelo was a big attractive boy, in his late teens. His corn-blue eyes sparkled when he realized he was so close to the big blonde that the hairs on her arm tickled his bicep. “Yeah. Everyone’s been great; the players and the coaching staff. I’m looking forward to learning a lot from Dale.”

“That’s Dale Everette. The Defensive Coach.”

“Mmm. Right. I’ve admired the guy for a long time and it’s a privilege to be able work with him.”

Angelo answered questions easily and Kate adjusted the camera angle to capture the eyes. Erica moved in a little closer and it made for an easy exchange of questions and answers, like she and Angelo were tight, old acquaintances even. Erica was good and put the young player at ease. But then Katie realized that Angelo had slipped an arm around Erica’s waist and was stroking her hip. Erica never let on.

“So you come to us from a small town in Michigan?”

“Yeah. Little place called Strasbourg. About seventeen-thousand,” he smiled shyly, “but we had a great school. Very competitive. We won our division three years running.”

Katie watched Anglo move his arm around and shifted her angle again so she could see.

“I saw you at practice yesterday. You’re pretty good at picking off the passes.”

Anglo was stroking Erica’s ass, his fingertips right in the cleft, groping through the loose folds of her skirt. Erica didn’t even squirm.

“Yeah. I started out as a receiver, but I was too big for it. And not fast enough. But I got pretty good hands. If the quarterback is slightly off the mark and I’m there, I can usually get a piece of the ball,” he continued with a mild hint of self-importance.

Pretty good hands, Kate thought but kept on shooting.

Erica was being molested on camera but if she was okay with it, Kate figured it was none of her business. She kept her eye to the viewfinder as Anglo turned so he could run an open palm over Erica’s tummy. Katie had to shift her feet again to keep him in the shot.

Erica sounded a little breathy. “Anything you want to add?” she asked him, wrapping things up.

His hand slid lower. “I just want to thank everyone back home,” he nodded his head toward the camera lens. “Especially my folks. And hey dad, I still own you gas money, for all those times you drove me to practice.”

Erica turned to the camera. “That’s Anglo Cane, folks. The Lancer’s new defensive tackle. And this is Erica Svenson from Lancer Field wishing you a pleasant evening.” Erica lowered the microphone and, with a little dip, she slipped away from Angelo’s inquisitive fingers. “You get it?” she called to Kate.

Kate lowered the camera. “You bet. You were wonderful. It came across as really natural. The cable station will be pleased.”

“Beautiful,” Erica said with a satisfied grin. “Here, let me help you with some of this stuff.” She leaned down for the power-pack.

The girls turned and stepped toward the parking lot and Katie’s rusty Honda. “Hey?” The voice came from behind. It was Anglo. “Hey? How ‘bout we get together later; after the game?” He put it to Erica, ever hopeful.

Erica looked back and wiggle-waggled a hand in his direction. “Sorry big guy. I’m engaged.” A diamond on her finger caught the sunlight.

Dumbfounded, Anglo’s mouth sagged. He remained rooted to the artificial turf.

Erica took hold of Katie’s arm and hurried her toward the car. “Christ. The kid’s still in his freakin’ teens,” Erica hissed.

Katie stumbled to keep up. “I never knew you were engaged.”

Erica chuckled. “I’m not. The ring belongs to my mother. I use it as a stage prop from time to time. Works pretty well, don’t you think?”

“You b***h,” Katie huffed. “Let’s get outta here before he gets his second wind. How about The Down Under for a quickie.”

“Yummy,” said Erica.

The Down Under was a basement pub not far off campus. On a Sunday afternoon it was quiet, just a few guys taking in a ballgame on the flat screen so Kate and Erica were able to settle into the privacy of a corner booth.

Katie had a dozen questions gnawing, but, chewing a lip asked, “The cable station keeping you busy?”

Erica looked for a waitress. “More like the other way around,” she said. “I keep presenting them with ideas. Sometimes they bite, sometimes they don’t. But I figure the more on-camera experience I get, the better my chances at a job after graduation.” She locked eyes with the waitress and raised a hand.

“You’ll pull it off,” Katie reassured her. “Standing in front of a camera is way more high-profile than standing behind it. And you’ve got the looks and personality. Some station will scoop you up and consider themselves lucky.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Erica said. “But what about you? Any prospects?”

“Hi guys.” A woman in a black skirt and starched arrowhead apron stood at the side of the table. “What can I get you?”

Katie glanced up. “Rum and diet cola, thanks.”

“Rolling Rock on tap?” Erica asked.

The waitress nodded. “Twelve or sixteen ounce?”

Erica looked sheepishly at Kate. “Sixteen sounds ‘bout right.”

The waitress trotted off toward the bar.

Kate picked up the thread of the conversation. “If I’m lucky, I’ll probably end up running wires and plugging in lights for some hick station somewhere. Maybe after a couple of years it will lead to something. I’m prepared to be patient.”

“Yeah. Patience... I’ve got an older sister that might have some options for me. At least I’m hoping she’ll help.”

“An older sister?” Kate’s eyebrows arched. “First I find out you’re engaged and now an older sister. It’s been quite the day.”

The waitress was back with the drinks.

“Alisha ,” Erica said, sipping her beer. “Her name’s Alisha and she’s a sound techie. She’s on the IATSE call list.”

“IATSE? The stage hands union? I hear that’s a hard nut to crack.”

“Yeah. She had a boyfriend who got her signed up. She’s not a full time member but they call her when they need extra help or just to round out the technicians on a project. She works on all kinds of stuff: Commercial work for ad agencies, television productions, movies, even stage shows and concerts. She gets called in enough times to pay the rent and she likes the freedom. It’s not a nine-to-fiver.”

“And she can help you find a job?”

Erica watched the bubbles swirling in her mug. “Maybe not directly.” She took another sip. “But she knows people and she has an ear to the ground. I mean you never know, right? Jobs can come from the strangest places. Before I was born my dad was scuffing around doing odd plumbing jobs. Well he’s working on this guy’s house and the two of them hit it off. Thing is, the guy was with the Fire Department and before long, dad’s working for the City. You just never know.”

That sounded like fairy-tale stuff to Kate but she nodded. They both lifted their glasses, both in thought, both frightened by the uncertainties that awaited them after graduation.

An awkward silence was interrupted when Kate finally stirred. “Interesting interview with Anglo Cane.”

Erica looked up, a dubious cloud of concern hovering about her eyes. “It happens sometimes,” she said, “that’s all...” Her voice trailed and she went back to her drink.

“Sometimes? You mean it’s happened before?”

Erica exhaled and leaned back. “Look. They think they have an advantage; because it’s on camera. Like they’ve got you cornered. I just hope you had the lens trained above my waist.”

“Of course,” Kate reassured her. “None of what he did was recorded. I mean if I hadn’t looked up from the viewfinder, I would never have suspected he had a hand between your legs. It’s just that I have a hard time believing you let him get away with it. You carried on like nothing was happening.”

“I didn’t want to lose the interview.” Erica suddenly smiled. “Mark of a true pro, don’t you think? The show must go on!”

“Sure. Stick it on your resume.”

“Maintains professional, on-camera presence, even while being groped about the crotch.” Erica broke out into a larger smile, her eyes dancing. “Something like that, you mean?”

“Yeah. Something like that...”

“The weird thing is, if he had tried that at a social function, like a party or something, I would have freaked and hit him in the face. But on camera? I don’t know– it’s different somehow.”

“Different?”

“Yeah. Sensual I guess. I get a queer feeling, a buzz, and I kinda like it. I guess I’m a bit of an exhibitionist at heart, but it figures, right? I mean you’d have to be, to stand there and think people watching are interested in you as a person. That they like you. Find you sexy, even. You have to have a certain amount of chutzpah to think that way about yourself.”

Kate wondered what the hell the girl was talking about. Every guy in The Down Under was getting a kink in the neck trying to get a shot up Erica’s skirt. Erica was sexy. Sexy as hell. Kate sighed. “I guess.”

“When I was a little girl,” Erica continued, “I used to perform for my dad. I was into gymnastics, at school, and would work through my routine in front of the television, during halftime. We watched football together.”

Kate looked up, thinking of a young nubile blonde in shorts and tee-shirt doing back-springs in front of a man twice her age. “Like a cheerleader, you mean? Crap. Do I really want to hear this?”

Erica had been moodily talking into the bottom of her beer mug but now, startled, her eyes came up to meet Kate’s accusatory stare. “It wasn’t like that! My dad liked to watch and was always supportive!”

Erica protested with more authority than necessary and the both of them broke eye contact; turned to look in opposite directions. Each feeling the heat rise to flush their cheeks.

The lie was obvious on Erica’s lips. Her father’s behavior had been inappropriate but it had been many years later, after her father was dead and long buried, that Erica had come to realized it. But, in fact, she had never once regretted helping him; she loved her father and gladly complied with his wishes.

It had been Erica’s father who had introduced her to sports. She was an only child and every Saturday afternoon, the two of them would share the old sofa in the family room, downstairs. Her father would cozy-up with the remote and little Erica would stretch out, her shoulder against his thigh. Sometimes he would stroke her arm or fuss with her hair and when he did, she became aware of the spongy stiffness. And when she nestled into it with a cheek, it moved.

Erica knew it was his p***s but the fact her father was growing hard held no meaning for her. She had never seen a p***s before, didn’t know what it was for and didn’t understand the ramifications.

The first time he touched her on the breast, it was more like an accidental nudge. Little Erica had felt his hand linger but didn’t protest. It was her dad, after all, and he loved her. The next time, he had cupped her and sought out the n****e, rotating it beneath his thumb. Her n****e had strained and a quiver ran all the way down past her tummy and for once, Erica lost interest in the football game. She closed her eyes and moaned.

Then one afternoon, he had asked if she could help him out.

Erica loved her father; doted on him, in fact. And was thrilled at the thought that he would ask for her help– that she might prove useful. She felt all grownup, important in his eyes. She had lifted her head from his lap and smiled.

She watched, a little puzzled, as he unzipped and pulled himself into the open. And then listened as he instructed her on what he wanted her to do. To little Erica, it didn’t seem so bad. His p***s was long and smooth with a bullet-shaped head, the skin was as soft as swede and fit her mouth perfectly. It moved against her tongue and she had that queer feeling again, between her legs.

He held her face in both hands and slipped deeper in. She liked the feel of it there, and a bit later, the taste.

It was a taste she began to crave, after she had helped her father a couple of more times. She would lie in bed and think about his p***s in her mouth, moving. And then the contractions, the spurt and the taste. She would get the queer feeling again and learned where to use her fingers to make it better.

Erica felt the dampness between her thighs and was thrust from her dark memories into the here and now. Kate was staring, her lips parted.

“I don’t know– maybe that’s how it all started,” Erica stumbled the words out. “My father made me feel important, special. I guess that carried through into later life, when I stand in front of the cameras.”

“Sorry. I’m missing the connection, here. So you’re telling me you get horny on camera. Because of your father...”

Erica fixed Katie with a hard look. “It shows?”

“Naw. You’re like a flippin’ rock. Very professional.”

Erica’s lips narrowed. “Well someone spotted it. Almost a year ago.”

“How do you mean, spotted it.”

Erica gulped the last of her beer. “Why are we talking about this crap, anyway?” She looked around for the waitress.

Kate swirled an ice cube. “Seems like you’re doing most of the talking.”

Erica seemed to diminish a little. “Therapeutic, I guess. Anyway, I got a note, awhile back, from a dude who called himself a Moon-Dogger– cute, eh? He instructed me to go down into my building’s underground parking lot late one night. He told me to turn on the headlights of my car and then stand out in front. He wanted me to undress myself.”