Second Installment: The Movie
Tom had texted me for other illicit rendezvous twice since then but I'd been unable to make it to the second because I couldn't get away from Rob. As a result I was getting increasingly horny and the video wasn't seeing me through as well as it had been, so eventually I had to pick up the phone, apologise grovellingly and arrange a meeting between us myself. That meeting was tonight, and it was going to have an extra element of excitement involved, specifically due to my growing disenchantment with the keepsake of our first session.
I found the video and stills that Tom gave me disgustingly arousing. When Rob went out I'd switch on my laptop and rub myself raw watching the footage of Tom giving me a darn good seeing to. That final scene alone was well worthy of a youtube 'best of cumshots' compilation, though thankfully Tom was very discrete about the movie. He had copied it onto a CD for me and labelled it as 'The Best of Curtis Stigers'. No way would my husband ever put that CD in anything other than a dustbin, so unless either of us were very careless our dirty little video secret was relatively safe. After a while though (call it twenty or so viewings) I began to long for something a little bit better. Blocky, jerky, low resolution mobile phone footage isn't all that great and if you set it to play on fullscreen you have to sit right across the other end of the room to get the best of it. We had a nice big HDTV mounted on the wall, a blu-ray player underneath, and I could easily imagine myself spread out on the sofa watching Tom screwing me on his bed in glorious high definition instead of having to balance my laptop on a dining table chair if I wanted to give myself a comfortable fingering.
Tom had felt similarly, and when I asked him if we could do it again, but with a proper video camera instead of a mobile phone he quite literally jumped at the chance. To cut a long story short I was to dress provocatively tonight and he would have everything ready when I got to his house at about half past seven. Telling Rob that I was out on a hen night with some girls from work, I got in my little Ford Fiesta and set off for my third extra-marital excursion with hands and knees already trembling with excitement and anticipation and the region between my belly and my pussy aching with lust. How I managed to drive to Tom's house without crashing remains a mystery to this day.
My first surprise came when I knocked on Tom's door and he let me in. I was expecting him to start tearing my clothes off the moment the door slammed behind me as he had last time, but instead he led me through to the lounge where a strange man sat smoking a cigarette, a large digital camcorder resting on his lap. "Tracy, this is Martin." Tom began. "I've done some work for Martin and I've asked him to do the filming tonight. Relax, he's a professional photographer, knows what he's doing, and he promises me we won't even know he's here."
"You're fucking kidding!" I exclaimed, eyes wide with horror. He expected me to jump his bones in front of a total stranger? Fuck that, was my initial reaction. Martin got up and offered me his hand. I hesitated for way too long before accepting it and shaking it loosely, the gulf of silence in the room communicating exactly how I felt.
"Hi Tracy." Martin said softly, a thin smile upon his lips. "Now this is all going to seem very strange and surreal at first, but all you need to do is relax and make sure you concentrate solely on enjoying yourself you'll find I'll melt into the background before you know it. I've done this a couple of times before, it's no big deal to me, I'm totally professional about how these things are conducted. All I want from tonight is to walk away from here having given you guys the best memory of this evening possible."
"I don't know about this," I stuttered, glaring at Tom. If I hadn't been driving I'd have told him to get me a tumbler full of fucking vodka.
Tom squeezed my hand gently and put his arm around my shoulder. "Hey, I thought this was what you wanted," he said sounding hurt.
"No, I thought it would be like last time with you holding the camera, not half a fucking film crew directing me in a full-on porno clip. Jesus Tom, you could at least have given me some warning for fucks sake!"
"If you want to back out, that's fine." Martin said soothingly. "I can leave the room while you discuss it if you like."
"That'd be good." I said, glaring at Tom. When Martin had left I nearly slapped Tom in the face. "What the fuck were you thinking?" I said, shaking my head.
"Sorry Trace but I honestly thought that this was what you wanted. You said you wanted decent quality video of us making out so I sorted it." He shrugged. "Martin's a proper professional and he doesn't mess around. Some of his stuff looks incredible and its totally safe. Nothing we do here leaves in that camera unless you want it professionally edited, so there's no way any of the stuff we get up to tonight can get on the internet. He's on the level, and he doesn't come cheap, but if you don't want to go through with this I can ask him to leave."
By this time my anger had diminished somewhat. I wasn't in any way eager to go through with this but my negativity was wavering in the face of Tom's assurances and my own curiosity as to what sort of memento we might get by the end of it. "How much?"
"A grande." Tom confessed. I almost bit my tongue off. "What?" I spluttered.
"The money ain't important." Tom sighed. "What we get out of it is. C'mon, Trace. I didn't want some cheap and jumpy point-of-view camcorder stuff. I've always wanted to film myself with a woman but never got up the nerve to ask them if they'd let me, and I'm pretty sure none of them would. When you rang me about this it was like all my Christmasses had come at once. I just thought that if both of us wanted to do this, then we should do it properly and not go about it half-arsed and end up with something no better than what we got last time."
I wavered some more, but I must admit that I was warming to the idea. This was, as Tom had implied, quite possibly a once in a lifetime experience and while the fully working part of my brain was yelling at me to back out and run away fast, the parts that were under the spell of both Tom and my own libido were urging me to at least give it a chance. If the camera started rolling and I got stage fright then I could call it off then, but it would be a little conservative and unadventurous of me to just kick Martin out ithout having a go. At least I wouldn't spend the rest of my life wondering what might have come of it, kicking myself over my own timidity. "Call him back in." I sighed.
"Well?" Martin asked as Tom led him back into the room.
"How does this work?" I asked him.
"How do you want it to work?" He enquired.
"You're the expert." I told him. "What's expected of me."
"Just be yourself," Martin said soothingly. "There's generally two ways of going about this. The first way starts with the pair of you just doing what comes naturally and I'll record it all. I'll stay out of the way, as silent as the grave, and after a while once you've started enjoying yourselves you'll have forgotten that I'm there. Once you've finished I give Tom the hard drive out of my camera and that's it."
"And you charge a grande for that?" Jeez, I should start a business doing that I said to myself.
"The hard drives in these things aren't cheap." Martin laughed, tapping the side of his camera lovingly. "In fact they are bloody expensive for what they are, and this sort of thing isn't the sort of service you can advertise in the post office."
