The A.V. Club

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Six:

Movie on a Sunday Afternoon, Part One

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.

~~~

I woke up Saturday morning feeling great. I frowned.

I shouldnothave been feeling great. I should have been sore in every muscle and hungover as hell from mixing beer and weed and Mad Dog 20/20. Instead, I woke up rested. I had a Beatles song in my heart (Drive My Car) and a towering case of morning wood. I felt...optimistic. It had been so long since I'd felt anything like that, at first I didn't recognize it.

In the bathroom, I was even more unsettled by the state of my face in the mirror. My complexion was better. I hadwayfewer zits.

At breakfast, my mother asked me, "How was your night out, Bobby?" and I almost choked on my Corn Flakes.

"Swell," I eventually gasped out.

I ate two more bowls. I was ravenous. When I got up, I sprang out of my chair, filled with energy. Curiouser and curiouser.

My shift at Fotomat ran from ten to two on Saturdays. I worked alone. This made it a good meet-up spot. Around eleven a.m., the AVC all congregated around the service window.

My friends all looked better too. Donnie showed the most startling improvement. Every last bit of his acne had disappeared overnight. He looked like a different kid. A handsome kid with a long jawline and a thoughtful, strong-featured face.

Frank was a close second. He had only one visible pimple left. It was, unfortunately, a doozy, and front and center on his nose.

Everyone else had clearer skin to varying degrees. There were other improvements, too. Jack's black eye was almost fully healed. The dark circles under Allen's eyes had gone, and Mark's sallow mortician-like complexion had metamorphosed into peaches-and-cream. Moreover, they all looked cheerful and rested. We all usually looked wary and frazzled in public.

Jack produced the list and we divided it up.

"Masks?" asked Jack.

"I have ten pairs of Groucho Marx sunglasses," said Allen. "If we wear hats, that should do."

There was a brief silence.

"Why thefuh-" Mark caught himself. "Why in theworlddo you have ten pairs of Groucho Marx sunglasses?"

Allen shrugged. "Whenever we go on vacation, I always get one from a local joke shop. They're kind of souvenirs."

There was another brief silence, then we all mentally shrugged. Allen's oddities were no weirder than any of ours.

"Alright, so masks: check," said Jack. "Now where the hell are we gonna get a bunch of varsity lettermen jackets?"

"I can get them," I answered absently. I was thinking about the old generator in Jack's barn and if we could get it to work. If we couldn't power the lights, camera and sound equipment, this enterprise was over before it began.

"Really?" asked Jack. It took me a second to realize he meant the jackets.

"Yup. No problem."

"Yeah, but they can't sayGrant Highon them," said Donnie. "We can't put identifying stuff like that in a dickgirl flick."

"Don't worry, they're unmarked." I thought of something. "There is one thing, though..."

"What?" asked Mark.

"We kind of have to break into school."

~~~

Technically, it wasn't the school we had to break into, just my storage portable. The Drama Club stored costumes there on wheeled racks. The most recent production that year wasWest Side Story.The fifties-style collegiate jackets worn by the male chorus members would do nicely.

By two-fifteen Mark had his van parked in the laneway behind the bleachers. I jumped out and took a furtive look around. The field was vacant, as was the lot where the portables sat. I hopped the fence and jogged over.

The storage portable was unlocked. That gave me pause. I went inside anyway, and found all the lights on.

The blond girl with the freckles was there. Our eyes locked.

She was seated in front of an easel, painting a vase of flowers sitting next to her on a little table.

"Hi," I said stupidly.

"Hi," she replied.

"What are you doing here?" we both asked at exactly the same time.

She answered first. "I'm doing my homework. For art class." She gestured at the canvas. "I can't take all this stuff home with me. They let me come in on weekends."

She looked at me, clearly awaiting my explanation. I looked at the floor. That was a mistake.

The floor was dusty. I knew it was dusty, that was why I always knelt down on a jacket or something when I jacked off in there, but with all the overhead bulbs blazing, I could see justhowdusty it was. Dusty enough to leave footprints--myfootprints--clearly showing the path I took to and from the trunk where I hid my stash. Not to mention the huge disturbance where I knelt. And other, smaller footprints beside them, mingling with them. She had followed my trail.

I looked at Freckles. She blushed, bit her lip and looked down at the floor too.

Motherfucker. Sheknew.My stomach plummeted to my knees.

"I won't tell anyone," she said.

She sounded a little nervous. An immature part of me wanted to retort,you bet your ass you're not gonna tell anyone, not if you know what's good for you,but some internal compass vetoed that as soon as it manifested. I couldn't bully a girl.

The AV Club had a protocol in case of exposure: deny, deny, deny. I had my next words all lined up:tell anyone what?

"My name's Emily," she said. She held out her hand. I didn't even think. I moved forward.

"I'm...Robert," I said. "Bobby."

I gave her my grandfather's handshake and smiled by reflex. She smiled back. Her smile wasn't perfunctory; it was spontaneous and genuine. It made her pretty. It also showed off an overbite that gave her a very healthy dash of cute.

My brain whirled. She had found my magazines...but she wasn't embarrassed or disgusted. It didn't make sense. Also, the handshake had me distracted. Her hand was soft and warm and small. It just about disappeared in my big mitt. Below the chalky smell of watercolor paints, I could smellher.Soap and girl and some light perfume. She smelled really good.

She carefully placed her paintbrush in a glass of cloudy water on the easel.

"I would like to talk about...your magazines," she said. "I found them a few days ago."

What magazines?It should have been out of my mouth instantly. Instead, I just looked back at her.

"Did you look at them?" I asked.

What the hell are youdoing,my tyrannical better judgment screamed at me.

"I--" she blushed slightly. It was adorable. "I looked at thePlayboys, a little. Then I opened one of the other ones, and...I couldn't even get past the first page. It was just so...weird."

That was an understatement when it came to most sausage mags.

"Did you...tell anyone?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Who would I tell? I wanted to talk toyouabout them."

"Okay," I said. "What would you like to know?"

Are youcrazymy better judgment screamed again and was duly ignored.

"Everything," she said with a nervous little laugh and looked down shyly. "There's so much I don't know."

She was curious, I realized suddenly. Not upset, not angry, but very, very curious.

Well I'll be damned,I thought.Another convert like Claire.

My gaze wandered over to the costume racks. I remembered why I was there. My friends were waiting on me.

"Emily," I said, "can we talk about this on Monday? I'm just here to borrow some costumes...for a shoot. I really don't have any time."

"For the yearbook?" she asked. I nodded, grateful for the alibi.

"Can I see you here lunch period?" I asked. "Monday?"

"Okay," I could tell she was a little disappointed at being put off, but she accepted it graciously enough.

I grabbed a bunch of jackets off the rack and headed for the door. "I'll see you Monday," I said.

"See you," she said. She smiled and gave me a little wave.She's looking forward to it,I realized. I waved back as best I could with my arms full. I paused at the door.

"Thank you," I said, "for not telling anyone. I promise I'll go over everything Monday."

"Okay," she said again.

I got the hell out of there.

"What the hell kept you?" said Mark as Donnie hauled open the side door of the van.

"Nothing," I said. "Let's go."

Donnie stared at the spoils as I dumped them on the van's shag-carpeted floor. "Who the fuck are theJets?"he asked.

~~~

Pauline's pick-up trundled up Jack's dirt drive at noon sharp Sunday. She had her Shasta camper in tow and Claire's newly-repaired little orange Fiat following. We were all out waiting on the porch. Claire tooted a cheery greeting on her horn.

All three of them gave us hugs and kisses on their way inside. Pauline and Betty got reacquainted with my fellow AVC members and did their best to get their names straight.

"Now then," said Pauline. "Before we get started with the filmmaking, there's something we need to attend to first."

She took off her kerchief and ovular white-framed sunglasses. She put them into the pocket of her duster, shrugged out of it and hung it on the coat rack. She wore a conservative teal housewife dress underneath, with a tightly-belted waist.

"It's best if we have this discussion in here," she said, and turned and walked into the airy front room of Jack's house. Betty and Claire followed her, and after trading bemused looks, we followed them.

Pauline took a seat in the big armchair and gestured for the rest of us to do likewise. We all sat on the sofas while Claire and Betty stood flanking Pauline's chair. Claire wore a lovely yellow paisley mid-thigh dress with long sleeves that flared widely at the cuffs. Betty wore snug black stirrup pants with a sleeveless green tunic top.

"In the old days," Pauline said, "undercover police officers would sometimes try to infiltrate smaller get-togethers like this one. Well-established sausage joints like the Ogilvie always had longstanding arrangements with local law enforcement, but little parties like this, which pop up in odd places, were often unfairly targeted."

"Seriously?" squeaked Jack.

"I heard of that," said Frank. "I thought it only happened in the bible belt."

"It could happen anywhere there was an ambitious sheriff up for re-election," Pauline said. "It was an easy way to court the self-righteous citizens vote."

She stood up and unbuckled the belt of her dress.

"A very simple-but-effective security measure evolved. All attendees have to blow the entertainer at the door. Those who balk are denied entry. Problem solved."

Pauline reached behind herself and unzipped her dress.

"Seriously?" Jack squeaked again, this time with considerably more interest.

"You're suggesting we do that now?" asked Frank. "Surely you can't think any of us are policemen."

"It's customary," Pauline said breezily. She shimmied out of her dress, andwow!Every tanned and gorgeous square inch of her was suddenly justthere,in front of us. She worenothingunderneath that dress. We could see her penis rising to its full and formidable size. A shockwave went through Jack's front room.

"Unless," she asked delicately, "you object?"

"No," said Frank. There was a glint behind his glasses I'd never seen before. "I have no objections."

None of the rest of us voiced any objections, either. Mark and Allen and Donnie were already slavering at the sight of Pauline's member. It bobbed, and a big tear formed in its eye. As she stood there, naked, rampant and bathed in sunlight from Jack's big bay windows, I found myself salivating as well. My own dick had risen and strained against my pants. I had that sense of the situation slipping away from me again, into possiblyout-of-handterritory, but this time, I welcomed it.

It was amazing how Pauline commanded the whole room. That sexual power that she demonstrated so handily Friday night was back in full force. As she stood there, it was like she glowed with some kind of invisible light composed of sexual fascination instead of photons. She shook out her hair, and the other boys and I all sighed.

She pointed at Frank. "You first, big boy."

He practically leapt into place in front of her. He knelt, and she removed his glasses and beeped his nose. Then with a smirk, she put on his glasses, perched low on her nose, librarian-style.

I wished I had my camera. The sight of her, wearing nothing but those taped-up glasses while that fat, curved prick loomed before Frank's face was magical.

Frank smiled up at her. He actuallysmiled.

She smiled back and took hold of his head with both hands. She bent down and kissed him. Then she straightened and pressed his face against her prick. She moved her hips to rub it on his nose and mouth.

Frank took action. He wrapped both of his big hands around her shaft and pulled back her foreskin. She released his head and let him do as he pleased.

He licked her bright, shiny dome and then sucked it out of sight. His head went all the way down, which was amazing. He buried his face in her tummy. He then proceeded to give her head with hard-sucking plunges.

Damn,I thought.Frank's been practicing. On what, though? Carrots? Cucumbers?

"That's it," she sighed. She petted his head, sifting her fingers through his unruly brown hair. Her eyes lidded and her face grew slack and lovely with pleasure. "Oh, you've already got the hang of it."

She looked around the room, making eye contact with all of us. She let out a husky chuckle.

"This is just wonderful. Once Frank here is done..." she let out a little gasp, "...which won't take long..." she pointed at Jack. "You'regoing to suck my cock." Then she pointed at Donnie. "And thenyou'regoing to suck my cock." Her slack mouth smiled, but her voice was full of anticipation. She pointed at each of us in turn. "You're going to suck my cock...and then you're going to suck my cock..." Lastly, she pointed at me. "Andyou'regoing to suck my cock, too."

I felt afrissonof excitement at that, and my rigid dick oozed into my pants. She was calling it, like Babe Ruth pointing the trajectory of his home run. She almost sounded smug about it.

Frank slurped and grunted. Both of her hands were back on his head now, urging him back and forth. Her cheeks were pink. I could actually see her nipples swelling and elongating. They stuck out like blunt spikes. Her hips were moving, making her breasts jostle as she fucked Frank's mouth. Her large, pendulous balls swung and slapped Frank's Adam's apple at first, then his chin as they rose up and enlarged. Then they pulled up so tight they barely moved. When he took her balls-deep, his tongue slithered out and licked them.

"Okay, sweetheart," she said tightly. "When I come, there's going to be alotof it. Do your best, but don't choke yourself. Alright?"

Frank groaned affirmatively. The hunger he had for her cock and the pleasure he took in sucking it were very evident.

"Alright," she said. "Here it comes...yes...ooh!"

Her face twisted prettily as she ejaculated. Frank swallowed, but couldn't keep up; sperm slopped out of his mouth and dripped onto his shirt. He struggled gamely through it, though, and worked her to the end of her climax.

"Okay," sighed Pauline. "There we go. Well done, sweetheart." She pulled her cock out of his mouth. He made a regretful little noise and sucked hard as it exited. It emerged spit-shined clean.

Frank rose unsteadily to his feet. He was flushed and grinning ear to ear. His eyes glittered with Seahag fever and his pants bulged massively in front. It was weird seeing him so demonstrative. It was like seeing Mr. Spock fromStar Trekgrin. Unsettling, but at the same time, kinda awesome.

It was also weird seeing how different he looked without his glasses. His eyes were big and green and striking without those massive hornrims hiding them.

Pauline made to return them, but Jack suddenly snapped, "No."

The whole room looked at him. He had risen from the couch and was moving to take Frank's place before Pauline.

"No," he said more calmly as he sank to his knees. "Leave them on."

Pauline looked at Frank. He shrugged and nodded. Pauline looked down at Jack.

"Okay, sweetheart. You ready?"

He nodded and licked his lips.

Her penis dripped with her sperm and Frank's spit. She shoved it into his mouth.

He was just as eager as Frank, but struggled more. Claire had to coach him a little.

"Relax your jaw...now relax your throat..."

Watching that big bratwurst slide in and out of Jack's pretty-boy face was actually quite sexy. I caught myself rubbing the bulge in my pants. I noticed others doing the same.

"Don't get carried away, boys," Claire spoke up. "I'll need you all with full mags for the shoot."

"Don't be a tyrant, Claire," murmured Pauline.

"Hush, Pauline," said Betty. "Claire knows what she's doing. They can pop as much as they want...afterfilming."

"Whatever you say." Pauline rolled her eyes. "Okay, Jack, get your tongue under my foreskin. Scrub it. Especially the underside. Yes."

Moments later she was sighing, "Okay, yes, now you've got it. Just...keep doing that."

Jack had two hands around the haft of her tool. He pumped it while sucking on the head and a third of her shaft. Gradually, he was able to take more of it down his throat. At her gentle cues, he synced his hands with the shuttling of his mouth. He was able to take two thirds of her pole by the time he made her come.

She gasped as she flooded his mouth. Surprisingly, he did a slightly better job of swallowing her cum than Frank. Only a couple globs wound up on his shirt. The candy store aroma of her semen filled the room.

"Thank you honey," she said breathlessly. "Next, please."

Donnie did a better job of sucking her than Jack, but lacked Frank's natural finesse. When he released her penis to reach up with both hands and fondle her breasts, Claire cleared her throat.

"Our time is limited today..." she said.

"It's fine, Claire," said Pauline with her eyes closed. "I like it. The joy he takes in my breasts is...exquisite." She rubbed his forearms. Her voice tightened. "It's such a needy,tactilething. Full of shame and...ferocity. So delightful..."

I got goosebumps. She spoke about his feelings like she could taste them, like they were chocolates.

Her voice grew more urgent. "That's it, Donnie. Just keep working the head. Focus on the split underneath. That's it.Ooh!"

Her dick pulsed in his mouth. Donnie gulped and groaned. He didn't lose a drop. Nor did he stop squeezing Pauline's tits once.

"Yes...yes..."

Mark was next. He was a natural like Frank. He could even swallow her deluge of jism just as well as Donnie. Incredibly, Allen was the same. None of them, not even Jack, took longer than four minutes.

"Oh!" she gasped. "You boys are just wonderful. Making me feelrealspecial."

By the time it was my turn, she was panting and Frank's glasses were askew on her face. She was all sweaty and a little wild-eyed.

The A.V. Club Ch. 06

Discussion(0)