The A.V. Club

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Rooks, Crooks and Hookers

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission. This story is copyright©2016 J.K. Ermon

~~~

The next morning, I cut my morning run short to go to my darkroom-slash-garden-shed and develop Emily's photos.

It was exciting watching the pictures slowly appear in the trays of photographic emulsion. I had no idea what to expect.

Emily had shot a full roll of thirty-six exposures on standard full-color Kodachrome. Thirty-four were nudes, two were fully-clothed portraits. In most of them, you could see the shutter release cable in her hand with her thumb on the button.

The first one that faded into existence was a doozy. Emily was standing, bare-assed naked in what I guessed was her bedroom. She had her shoulders back with one hand on her hip and the photo clicker in her other. Her breasts were thrust out proudly and so was her penis. She was very erect. She was giving the camera a big, dimpled grin. She stood in a three-quarter profile so you could get a sense of the length of her dick sticking out in front of her.

I stared thoughtfully at her dong as it slowly materialized under the red lights.Is it just me or is she getting longer?

She looked just as thick as ever, but I honestly thought she might be creeping up into Lucy Long territory.

That first one came out a little overexposed, making her skin look paler that it was. She'd gotten a bit of a tan from running around naked at Jack's farm. Her complexion had definitely shifted from milky-white to peaches-and-cream. The photo did manage to capture her skin's fine texture and glossy finish, so I considered it a keeper.

In the picture, her hair was well-brushed and held back from her adorable freckled face by her favorite pink hairband. She had chosen to wear her old black-framed cat's-eye glasses and that, the hairband, and her strapped pink high heels were all she wore. Her stance made no secret of the projecting curve of her bottom. The hand on her hip emphasized it.

I gulped. My girlfriend wasincrediblyphotogenic.

As I studied the other developing pictures, I was wryly amused at my own rapid heartbeat. I had seen Emily naked in the flesh, touched her, kissed her, had sex with her more times that I could count; seeing those nudie shots, however, was like discovering sausage mags for the first time. It was a revelation. I had an absurd urge to share them with my friends (which I suppressed).

The photography was amateurish-but-inspired. A lot of them were blurry, and a few had her head or other important bits out-of-frame. In one, the flash had bleached everything to empty whiteness.

But some of them were amazing. Emily had taken a lot of shots of her beating off and the blur of her hand on her penis made for some great action pics. She'd even caught half-a-dozen or so viable photos of herself ejaculating. In some, she was lying on her bed, and in others she was standing upright. Her sperm made long, white, flying smudges in the air. The open-mouthed and closed-eyed look of ecstasy on her face really did it for me.

In some, she'd placed the camera on the floor, lens-up, and squatted over it for very intimate shots of her most private stuff. She'd taken similar ones on all fours with her ass pointed at the camera. In those, she was looking back over her shoulder with an in impish smile.

The last pic I developed was taken just after one of her orgasms. She'd gotten cum all over her belly, breasts and face. She was holding up her glistening breasts and laughing out loud with her sperm-covered tongue extended. There was a big glob of cum on the right lens of her glasses. Her visible eye was crinkled in fun. This pic looked handheld, with her holding the camera overhead while she lay on her bed.

I couldn't help it; I unzipped and started masturbating. When I came, I almost hit that photo with my sperm. I was glad I missed, but it was another of those moments when I felt close to Emily because I could come like she did: with a big barrage of fluid projectiles.

"Guff!"

I had a clothesline strung up in the shed and black curtains to block outside light hitting the development area. I hung up the photos with clothespins to dry them off and studied them.

I felt it was odd that as intimate as Emily and I were, I had never seen her bedroom. For that matter, she'd never been in mine. Her room had a hardwood floor and walls with constellation star charts posted everywhere. They shared space with a Jane Austen poster on one wall and a Beatles poster on another. Her bed had a red-and-orange check comforter with a stuffed Curious George sitting on the pillow.

The two portrait shots were basically shoulders-up grad photos with a smiling Emily seated in front of her star maps. She was fully dressed in those, wearing her yellow gingham dress. Her smile touched my heart; it was knowing, open and affectionate.

One portrait was in noticeably better focus than the other, which made my choice easy. I made two copies of that one; one wallet size, and one eight-by-ten to put in a frame on my dresser.

~~~

When I saw Jack in the hallways at Grant High that morning, he was wearing a letterman jacket and carrying a rifle.

I recognized the gun. It was a Winchester.22 target shooter that I'd seen around his house. It was older than he was. I had no idea it even worked, or that he knew how to use it.

I greeted him with the secret handshake and nodded towards the Model 52.

"Since when are you in the rifle club?"

"Please, Bobby," he said, pretending to be offended. "It's theMarksmanshipClub. The Minutemen Marksmen. And I've been in for almost a month now."

He turned and showed me the shoulder of his letterman jacket. The club patch was a pair of crossed rifles embossed right where the rook emblem was on mine. Sure enough, arching over the rifles were the wordsMarksmanship Club.

"I didn't know they gave you jackets."

"They just did. We've been winning all the intramural tourneys. State finals are in two weeks. Our odds are good. We may even make nationals."

"Yeah. Same thing with Chess Club. We got jackets too. I suppose they gotta put all their rah-rah school spirit somewhere."

Just then the P.A. came on. The prune-like voice of Miss Stevens, the school secretary, spoke. "Will the members of the Grant High Minutemen Chess Club please report immediately to room 212." She said it twice for good measure.

"Shit," I muttered. "Speak of the devil."

~~~

"Young man, where is yourjacket?"

Mrs. Cheevers snapped that at me the second I stepped inside room 212. It was an unused classroom this period. All the other members of the Chess Club were present, and of course they were all wearing theirs.

"It's...at home."

"You are required to wear that jacketat all timeswhen you are on school property and duringallClub events. You are thecaptainof your team. You are arepresentativeof your school."

I had to bite my tongue before I could say, "It's not team, it's a club." Thankfully, it stayed behind my teeth.

"Now that we'reall here," Ms. Cheevers said, looking daggers in my direction, "as I'm sure you're all aware, we won the last of the regionals earlier this week. The state championships are next. It's that time again."

I straightened in my chair. Iwasn'taware it was that time again. I hadn't been paying attention to our ranking at all.

Mrs. Cheevers went on. "This means a minimum two-day-and-one-night field trip to Cleveland. I hope I don't need to tell you how important this is for the school."

She did not sound like she thought it was important. She had no interest in chess. Being a faculty advisor to a school club was a job requirement for her, and it was no secret she disliked it. She particularly disliked having to go on overnight field trips with teenage boys.

She wasn't wrong though. Winning, or even getting through the round robin to the finals would be a great source of prestige to our hayseed institution. The state championships happened every year, but with everything else happening in my life that spring, I had completely forgotten about how it might impact me.

We'd never won before. In earlier years neither my parents nor Allen's would sign off on overnight field trips. My parents were too worrisome and Allen's thought chess tournaments were stupid. Neither let us attend. Without their two ringers, Grant High never made it past the round robin.

I was eighteen now, so I didn't need parental consent. That was hardly any comfort, since I really didn't want to be apart from Emily for a day, never mind half a week.

I put up my hand.

"Yes,Bobby?" Mrs. Cheevers asked in a long-suffering tone.

"When is the tournament?"

"We have to be in Cleveland for sign-in no later than noon tomorrow. We'll be leaving at eight in the morning."

There were a bunch of stifled groans at that.

"But that's...tomorrow," I said stupidly.

"I justsaidthat." She addressed the entire team. "Make sure your families know you might not be back until Tuesday."

"Five days?" I gasped.

"Correct." Her tone saidI really don't have time for your silly concerns.

I opened my mouth again and then shut it. If I refused to go, there'd be hell to pay. Quitting a club in its Time of Need would not look good on my school record. It wouldn't negate my scholarship, but the faculty would find ways to get back at me for it, especially if we lost because I wasn't there. I gritted my teeth and folded my arms. I waited until Mrs. Cheevers finished handing out forms and tournament rules (of which there were many, and in block type) and dismissed us.

~~~

My brothers in the AVC had a much better morning than me. At our study hall group-sex meeting (which Emily called our 'plooking appointments') Jack, Frank and Donnie were all hopping with excitement. Stephanie, Heidi and Linda had all approached them, respectively, between classes and made it clear they wanted to be asked out on dates. The boys all did so. Even Frank had taken the hint, and Heidi had kissed him right there by his locker. Emily looked fit to burst, she was so pleased.

Donnie looked stunned and Jack couldn't stop grinning. Frank looked as imperturbable as ever, but there was a telltale glow of color in his cheeks and a gleam in his eye.

Emily's elation lasted until our daily lunch date in the portable, when I told her I was leaving for a few days.

"Oh,no," she exclaimed. "Did you at least get a chance to develop those pictures?"

"Yeah," I said. "About twenty or so turned out pretty good."

"Well that's something," she said a little despondently. "At least you'll be able to take some of me with you."

"Yeah," I said. Then I just blurted out, "Emily, I amreallygoing to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too," she exclaimed, and hugged me so hard and abruptly she almost knocked me over on my back.

~~~

I stayed behind in AP Biology and spoke to Mrs. Cheevers about transportation. I explained I had a reliable car and didn't see the need to take the school bus with the rest of the team. She rolled her eyes and gave me the addresses of the high school that was hosting the event and the hotel where the team was booked. She told me in no uncertain terms that any tardiness or failure to appear at tournament events would not be tolerated. Not only would I be sent home early, but would also receive a two-week academic suspension.

Jesus.That would kill my scholarship for sure. I could tell she knew that, and took a spiteful pleasure in letting me know it.

I gulped and told heryes ma'am, thank you ma'am.

As a rule, adolescence sucks. Some adults really enjoy making it suck worse.

~~~

My family was almost as unhappy about me going away as Emily, but for different reasons.

"Why didn't youtellus?" my mother wailed.

"I only just found out today," I protested.

"But you must have known it was coming," my father said. "You never even told us the Chess Club had made it to the finals. It would have been nice to know that."

He kinda had me there. Being tight-lipped about my extracurriculars had become a habit over the years.

"It came as a surprise to me too," I muttered churlishly, feeling like an irresponsible teenager. Which I was. I sighed.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry. I...messed up. I should have kept you two informed."

"Did you at least clear this with your work? Does Norah know?"

"She knows," I said hurriedly. "I spoke to her today. She wasn't happy about the short notice, but she gets that it's for school."

Like the Grinch, I'd thought up a lie and I'd thought it up quick. I was both impressed and a little disgusted with myself.

"Well, you're not going," my mother said.

"Of course he's going," my dad said. "He can't back out now, he'd be letting the team down."

"But he's just a boy! He'll be on his own in a big city! He's not ready yet."

I felt like rolling my eyes, but thankfully didn't. This was always the reason my mother refused to sign permission slips for overnight field trips.The boy's not ready.Something about one of her kids going more than ten miles away from her immediate vicinity set off her alarm bells.

"Technically I'm an adult," I interjected. "And I wouldn't be alone. I'd be with the whole team plus a faculty chaperone."

"Which chaperone?"

"Mrs. Cheevers."

Mom snorted. "Thelma Cheevers is a dizzy dimwit and always has been. She'd sneak in boyfriends when she was babysitting."

I blinked. "She would?"

Now my dad interjected. "That's hardly relevant. The important thing is, Bobby won't be on his own. He'll be supervised."

"That's true," I said. "They keep pretty strict tabs on us during tournaments."

That was another lie. I had no idea what level of supervision was standard for overnight field trips. I'd never been on one. Thankfully, though, my parents were no longer arguing with me, but with each other. I could tell my father was the horse to back in this particular heat.

"It's not like they let us roam around Cleveland, seeing the sights," I told my mother. "We go from the hotel to the school, play against the other kids, and then back to the hotel. That's it."

Again, I was completely inventing that. I didn't know what the itinerary was, and probably wouldn't find out until we arrived.

"If he doesn't go," my dad said, "it'll look bad on his school record. I don't think we should risk that at this stage of the game."

That shut Mom up. She was well aware Dad couldn't afford to put me through college while he was already paying Patrick's way. My parents weren't about to do anything that put my eligibility for scholarships at risk. That trumped all of her misgivings.

She sighed. "Do you have enough clean clothes?"

I nodded. "I've got plenty. I'll start packing now."

As I headed up to my room, I belatedly realized Alison was the only person who hadn't contributed to the discussion. It was unlike her. She just sat quietly at the dinner table and watched all the back-and-forth while picking at her food.

~~~

Late that night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, I snuck out of the house. I disengaged the parking brake and pushed my car down the driveway and onto the street before getting inside and hitting the ignition. I drove on dark country roads up to New Richmond.

I stopped outside Emily's house. All the windows were in shadow except one. Feeling like a burglar, I fished my binoculars out of the glove box and spied through the open curtains. I could see constellation maps and a familiar Beatles poster. It was Emily's room.

There was a white-painted wooden trellis overgrown with flowering vines running up the side of the house. It surrounded Emily's window and continued all the way up to the roof.

I paused. I had only come to steal one last look at Emily's house (and maybe Emily herself) to bank some of her presence for the trip. Now I was seeing opportunities for more. I couldn't believe what I was planning, but at some point I had decided to proceed.

I moved my car down the street and parked it. I walked back to the McPherson's, carefully checking for watchful neighbors. There were none.

I crossed their lawn and took one last look around. The coast was clear. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself slowly and silently scaling the trellis up to Emily's window. It was startlingly easy. I seemed to weigh next to nothing in terms of the effort it took to haul all one-hundred-and-sixty-eight pounds of me up there.

I looked through the window and Emily was sitting at her desk studying. Her face was less than three feet from mine. She was looking down at her correspondence workbook while scribbling notes in a three-ring binder. I gently tapped on the glass.

She looked up and her eyes popped when she saw my face hovering in the darkness. Her mouth opened to suck in a lungful of air. I swiftly held a finger to my lips before she could let it out in a scream. She stifled it and regained her composure with admirable swiftness. She looked over her shoulder and then stood up to open the window.

There was a goose-necked lamp on her desk and plastic cups filled with pens and magic markers. She quickly moved everything aside to make room for me. I carefully crawled in over her desk blotter, trying my damnedest not to knock anything over.

"Bobby," she said in a whisper, "are youinsane?" She looked both scandalized and delighted. She was wearing an ankle-length baby-blue nightgown.

"Maybe," I said, pitching my voice just as low as hers. "I needed to see you before I left for the tournament."

"My parents are just down the hall. And they are verylight sleepers."

For a second I feared she was going to tell me to leave. Instead, she said, "We'll have to beveryquiet."

Greatly relieved, I said, "I brought you something."

I reached into my knapsack and pulled out a sheaf of five-by-three photographs. "Thought you might like to see how they turned out."

She sat down on her bed and I sat down next to her. She shuffled through the photos, examining each one. "Bobby, thank you, this is so thoughtful."

I plucked the one that had her standing with her hand on her hip. "This is one of my favorites. I really dig that you wore your glasses."

She gave me a sidelong glance that was both smug and amused. "I thought you might. Now I wish I'd modeled my Playboy bunny outfit."

I gulped. The thought of a full picset of Emily in that costume, or her pink lingerie, was arousing indeed.

"Maybe when I get back from Cleveland, we can do a little photoshoot," I suggested.

"That's a good idea. What did you have in mind for tonight?"

I paused. I really wanted her to fuck my butt and fill me up with enough vitamin J to keep me buzzed the whole trip. Regrettably, I knew there was no way to do that quietly.

I looked at her hopefully. "Can I...suck you off a few times?"

The A.V. Club - Ch. 26

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