Rod, sitting at the kitchen table in his pajamas, looked at the sample logos that Trent had made for Tami’s clothing designs. It seemed unlike the naturally modest Tami to blow her own horn so, but apparently it was recommended for fashion students to create a “brand” for their designs, for copyright protection purposes. He could understand that.
Trent was an art major and, unlike some of the others, was actually good at drawing human bodies and faces. Rod respected that, down-to-earth engineer type that he was. Trent and Tami had gone through a hard time after 9/11, dealing not only with their grief but also their guilt. Both had been invited to Jeffrey’s photo exhibition that day and had not gone; Trent because he had the flu, and Tami declining the ride down with Mandy because she didn’t want her nakedness to distract everyone from what was supposed to be the first big day in Jeffrey’s professional career. Like many others who had lost loved ones that day, Trent and Tami had formed a bond.
Trent’s empathy for Tami came through in his drawings. They were not detailed but they were realistic. The one Tami preferred was a plain line drawing of a girl holding a long coat in front of her. You could tell she was naked from the shoulders, the exposed hip, the toes on the feet below. It was unclear in the drawing whether she was offering the coat to the viewer or about to try it on herself. The ambiguity was a nice touch. Below, the motto: “It’s a Tami Original”.
Now Tami padded in, rolling that damned “trial bag”. She hefted it onto the table and sat up next to it in her usual cross-legged position.
“I don’t really want to look through this stuff,” Rod said.
“I don’t either, but I suppose we should see what’s here,” she said. “So what do you think of Trent’s logos?”
“They’re a product of real talent,” Rod said, “speaking as an engineer who can draw nothing but blueprints. I like the one you circled too. Tami, you really are ‘an Original’.”
“Oh Baby.” She was so limber that it was easy for her to bend her head down and give him a wet kiss. “Not an original-sounding motto, though. I can’t think of anything better at the moment.”
Rod smiled. “I like your new clothes. I mean your old clothes. That really is your color, Babe.”
Tami, still sitting cross-legged, opened her legs some more to show her lower hair. “Plum is for me, I think. It matches my little thing.” She leaned back a little, spread her lips and made her clit jump. “Hi hi! Now... what do we have here?”
As they rummaged through the bag they saw it was a collection of unmarked DVD’s and a few VHS tapes. They sifted through them silently.
“I say, throw them all out,” Rod said. “I don’t know how you can stand viewing them anyway.”
“Maybe... Let me think about it.” She laughed. “Maybe I’ll get Gretchen to sort them out.”
Rod chuckled, glad that so much time had passed that she could laugh at such things. “Don’t torture that poor girl... So you’re going to go down with her?”
“Yes.” Tami was going to Providence to see her parents this weekend. Rod couldn’t go; he had National Guard service.
“I don’t think the VW is going to make it,” Rod said. They drove in it yesterday and it pooped out on a hill, forcing them to turn it around and jump-start it by pushing it back down.
“It just needs the timing checked. I can do that next week. We’re taking her car anyway. Wow, look at this.”
A brown bag obviously holding VHS’s. On top was a handwritten note: “Found these at the house. George Halifax.” Halifax had moved into the college attorney’s house formerly lived in by you-know-who. “Oh Lord!” They were commercial porn tapes. Tami took out the first one. On the box was an interracial couple that looked almost exactly like Rod and Tami! “This we’ve got to see!”
Rod wasn’t that into it but Tami set it up like a movie night. She had him microwave popcorn while she pushed the couch in front of the TV and dug out the VCR that hadn’t been used in about two years. She cut the lights and they sat in their usual TV-watching position, him with the popcorn beside him, she stretching her naked self along the couch, her legs over his lap so that he could idly play with her pubic hair. Her dexterous toes tapped on the remote sitting on the arm of the couch.
Rod had seen more porn than he liked to admit, but for Tami it was a new experience. She watched entranced as the first few minutes showed the white woman with red hair writhing on a bed in a tiny negligee, stroking herself, not very skillfully portraying a bored, frustrated wife. She must have been bored by the decor as well: her “bedroom” looked like a motel room.
Now a sudden blast of gangsta rap and a black man in a pimp outfit climbed through the window. He wrestled the woman until she was pinned to the bed, her eyes showing that she was not very interested in resisting.
“Oh Babe, this is insulting.” Rod was offended and embarrassed by hip hop culture.
Tami had long been aware of that, but said, “Let’s see what happens,” as she inhaled another handful of popcorn. Now the man had his pants off and was slapping his half-erect penis across the woman’s face.
“Wow,” Tami said. “That guy is huge.”
“She’s got awfully big hands too,” Rod said. Tami guffawed as he saw what he meant. The effect of the camera angle and what must have been a fish-eyed lens became clear as soon as the woman put her fingers around the porn star’s dick. If his penis was huge, her fingers must be the size of bananas.
Then they both got a laugh as she started sucking him. The camera was from above and the lens made her nose get dramatically bigger with each upstroke, throbbing in size like a cartoon character who has just gotten punched.
About five minutes later, with no discernable advancement of either plot or technique, Tami said, “This is getting boring.”
“Welcome to the world of porn, Babe.”
She flexed her pinky toe and was about to hit “stop” when the man pulled back and shouted, “Take this, bitch!!”
As the music crescendoed the woman smiled and a big spurt hit her on the chin. Then a few dribbles before the black penis above her stopped quaking.
“That’s weird,” Tami said. Rod was surprised at this comment but then reminded himself: the “money shot” might be a convention of the genre, but despite what Tami has been through, she’s hardly ever seen any porn.
“That’s called a ‘facial’,” Rod said.
Tami decided to give up on this movie. “Let’s try one more.” Rod sighed in resignation.
This movie -- apparently Henry Ross only liked interracial, black male-white female porn -- was a bit easier to take. The black male was a tall skinny guy who was always smiling. No gangsta rap. He seemed to get a kick out of having two blond girls chasing him. At one point he had his pants half down and was trying to run down the stairs away from them, his dick flopping in front.
Ten minutes later, he too doused the white woman’s face with a few hits of semen, with great yowls that sounded like, “Yeeahhhhh --- ohhhhh --- yeahhhhhhh!!” Rod snorted. But Tami said, “It’s great that he can express himself like that. Why should women be the only ones who get vocal?” It was only then that Rod realized he had snorted to cover his embarrassment.
The blonde gathered up the semen with her finger and slurped it up like it was caviar. She really hammed it up, rolling her eyes. Again Rod snorted. But Tami said, “That’s exactly how I feel. Semen is the stuff of life.”
“It must be an acquired taste,” Rod said.
“Only the first couple of times. When I realized how much your body works to produce it, and how much you loved me, it became yummy.” Of course, they kissed after she said that.
“One more,” Tami said as Rod sighed.
In this one, the black man talked constant trash while humping the white woman from behind. “Take this bitch, you stinkin’ ho, take this n----r dick all the way, you ain’t nothing but --”
“UGHHH!” Tami said, thudding the “stop” button forcefully with her heel.
They looked at the blue screen for a moment.
“Who watches stuff like that?”
“White guys.”
“So what do black guys watch?”
“Me, I used to watch black on black porn. There’s not a lot of it around though.”
Tami brought her foot up and stroked behind Rod’s ear with her toes, and behind the other ear with her hand. She was getting good at knowing this sensitive area and his dick began to stiffen. With her other hand she munched on a handful of popcorn. With a half-full mouth she said, “What if I told you to pick out what porn you wanted and masturbate to it, what would you pick?”
“I don’t think I would watch porn now. Or even jerk off. It just doesn’t compare with being with you. It’s like playing with a toy, then having the real thing.”
Holding onto Rod’s neck, she did everything with her feet, tapping the “off” button on the remote, then reaching forward to hit the “eject” button on the VCR, then, swinging a leg over, grabbing the tape with her toes and dropping it into the bag. “Ooo ooo,” Rod said playfully.
Rod hefted his naked white prey onto his shoulders and carried her to bed. He kept one eye on the clock radio and decided to lick her for one hour exactly. He realized with some amusement that his motivation was to do better than the TL’s. Pacing himself, he succeeded in managing her orgasms so that she came once every two minutes, ending up with 28 for the hour. Like the TL’s, he knew Tami hated being counted (though only he knew the reason), so he kept the number to himself.
At the end Tami was sweating all over and Rod’s tongue was tired, in fact his whole body was tired. But Tami was not winded in the least. After holding his head against her breasts for a few minutes, she made him stand up and revived him by sucking him.
The porn movies had made an impact on her. As he got close she said, “Come on my face!”
He was surprised and might have been turned off, her sucking tonight was especially ardent and deep. He pulled out at the right moment. He hadn’t come in a few days and it was a big load. He even let himself groan out loud -- “Ohhhh Babe!” The four biggest arcs landed on her face, striping it from forehead down to her chin, a little dripping onto her breasts.
Rod, drained, catching his breath, looked down at his handiwork with mixed emotions. He did NOT want to be one of those pimped-out porn minstrels. But he was proud of being able to produce such a big load for Tami. Almost her whole forehead was coated.
Tami quickly unmixed his feelings. She was able to open her eyes and led him to the bathroom where they looked in the mirror, her face next to his.
“You marked me, you dog,” she said with a giggle. “I’m your bitch.” Then she smeared the semen over her face. “Well, it’s good protein, right? Good for the skin.”
He kissed her gently, not even minding that he got some on his own face. Tami could make just about anything sexy and loving.
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