Jill found it. It was a little scary how easily she found it.
It only required typing a few keywords on the porn clip site. First, the title of the DVD she appeared in: "Amelia Island Party Girls." But girls party on Amelia Island every Spring Break. So, she added the name of the company that shot the videos: On Break Productions. But dozens of girls appeared in those videos. So, lastly, she caved and added the name she'd used: Jilly, because Jill was a moron at the time, 19 years old, and she figured it'd be fine to give her real name, barely changed, to somebody filming her naked. Whatever---it was just a fun thing to do on a Spring Break afternoon. C'mon, who would ever even notice?
It's not like Jill was the star of "Amelia Island Party Girls," and maybe not that many people recognized her. But for a little while the DVD was advertised constantly late at night on TV. Actually, there were bushels of DVDs: "Amelia Island Party Girls," "Cabo Party Girls," "Miami Beach Party Girls," and on and on. As if the destination mattered, as if there were connoisseurs of the finest temperate locales where one might watch girls do body shots and tipsily hook up in hotel rooms. The ads promoting the videos were filled with quick cuts of girl after girl whooping it up, drunk or pretending to be, and encouraging you to "call now!!" to see more of them. Jill---Jilly---was only in the ad for two seconds (literally two seconds, she timed it, one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand), but it was a memorable two seconds.
Jill standing on a beach, a two-tequila-shot smile on her face, wearing the bikini she'd picked out for the trip. White, barely covering her D cups, and all but transparent if it got the least bit wet. Smiling for the camera, pursing her lips as if to kiss whoever was watching, and then tugging up the bikini bra. Illustrations of two casaba melons covered her bare tits on the TV ads, but only just enough to cover her nipples. Viewers could see Jill's tits, pretty much. How big they were, how they bounced, and how happy Jilly was to show them off. All in two seconds.
How many DVDs did her big bouncing censored tits sell back then? Jill wondered now. Back when men could call a toll-free number at midnight and pay $19.95 for what, by today's standards, hardly counted as porn. Now, for free, with the right keywords, she had found her scene: "Jilly Amelia Island Party Girls---Vintage HUGE TITS Best Version."
Kitty Cameron's grand debut.
"Vintage"---that stung a little. And "huge" was overstating things; though she was proud of her D cups, she didn't have the inflated big tits that seemed to be so popular on tube sites. Still, once she clicked the play button, she couldn't help but be impressed by her more youthful, bouncier self. Somebody from the production company had spotted her on the beach after those two tequilas, encouraged her to lift up her bikini like all the other girls were. But she was the one of the few taken aside by a man and asked to sign a release form and invited to come to a hotel suite the next afternoon for a "fun" shoot. There was money---she forgot how much, probably a pittance, but a lot for a poor college student. Show up sober, please, she was told.
What she did the next afternoon was what she was watching now, late at night, in her bedroom. Her brother, Tim, and his fiancee, Kelly, were in the next room. Fucking, no doubt. She admired how much they took pleasure in each other, physically and emotionally. And Jill, who fucked Tim often, sometimes with Kelly, enjoyed it too. A strange arrangement that she wouldn't trade for anything. But the arrangement had her thinking about her past, so here she was watching this "vintage" video of herself.
There Jilly was in the video, at the edge of a bed, on her knees in a pair of cutoff shorts and a white tank top with a blue bikini underneath. The director told her to arch her shoulders back just a little, the better to emphasize her tits. She was happy to do it, happy to be told what to do.
"What's your name, sweetie?" a man asked off-camera.
"I'm Jill---Jilly."
"How old are you, Jilly?"
"I'm 21," she said. She was 19.
"Having a good time here?"
"The best! It's my first spring break."
"Seems like a memorable one. We saw you in your bikini yesterday and we were like, wow, we need to know you a little better."
"Awww, well thank you."
"Jilly can you take off your tank top there so we can see what you have going on? For the people who missed you in your bikini yesterday?"
"Sure," Jilly said, and giggled nervously. She crossed her arms across her chest, grabbed the bottom of her tank top with both hands, and tugged.
**
The airport's cell-phone lot was surprisingly empty for a mid-afternoon, so instead of having to circle around repeatedly for a spot, Jill had some time to kill. Michelle would be arriving soon, her first business trip since her maternity leave ended. Everybody headed out west to visit after Michelle's son was born---Michelle's husband, David, played the proud father, and Michelle's dad, Eric, played the proud grandpa. Jill scrolled through photos of the trip while she waited, swiping back, back, back into the past, stopping at the one photo she took at Michelle's graduation party.
Michelle, beaming, sitting in a hot tub between Jill and Helena, Eric's girlfriend. Jill and Helena were pleasantly stoned in the photo---their eyelids heavy, their smiles sweetly intoxicated. Michelle, for her part, had an unmistakable just-fucked glow about her, giddy yet flushed and worn-out, like she'd spent an hour at the gym. She came out to the hot tub after getting well fucked by her daddy, her uncle, and her future husband all at once, looking at once dazed and proud. There were smears of cum on her chin and tits, her pussy hair matted with spunk. Helena invited her in, and together they shared a long lingering hug as they soaked.
Seeing her daughter that way made her strangely eager and proud of her. She'd owned her sexuality in a way that Jill had long felt pressured to conceal. Seeing all that, plus the weed, made Jill deeply horny, so that when Eric showed up on the back patio, naked himself, she flirtily invited him in.
Something about that evening felt so amazingly freewheeling. There was no way to explain why she felt so comfortable being close to her ex-husband in the hot tub, to the point that they started making out while Michelle and Helena watched, trading hits off of the vape pen. As politely and smoothly as they could, Jill and Eric excused themselves and moved to one of the poolside lounge chairs, where Michelle's divorced parents fucked each other enthusiastically, Eric on top, thrusting with authority. Jill knew that Helena and Michelle were watching---perhaps appreciating how well Eric was fucking her, since they both knew his cock intimately.
The phone rang and shuddered, shocking Jill out of her reverie. The image of the three women in the hot tub was replaced by the contact photo for Michelle, a headshot of her beaming shortly after she'd come home from the hospital.
"Hello, sweetheart, have you landed?"
"Landed, at baggage claim, ready to go."
"Excellent, I'll be right over."
Pregnancy had done right by Michelle. It filled out her hips and tits in a way that made her look both motherly and lasciviously sexy. Of course her outfit helped---high-waisted, tight black shorts with a chunky white belt, matched by a tit-hugging, low-cut tank top, all finished off with wedge heels. They could probably share bras now, Jill thought. Michelle brightened as she saw Jill pull up. After putting her rollerbag in the back seat of the SUV, she climbed into the passenger seat and gave her mother a tight hug.
"You look amazing, Mich."
