The Porn Flick 

The Porn Flick

Not too far from our house is one of these video stores that has pornos in one end and regular movies in the other end. I had dressed again and was anticipating the reaction I might receive in the X-rated half of the store.

Truth be told, M. and I don’t watch much porn. We both have vivid fantasy lives, which we willingly share, and we are both up to trying new things. Maybe M. is thinking porn is a new thing to try? Anyway, this was my first trip into this end of the building by myself and I was a little bit disappointed to find no other customers in the place. I wandered up and down the aisles a bit, utterly turned off by all the “Fuck My Ass, Number 124” type videos, as well as the stupid real movie take-off titles. Finally, I saw a section called, “Femme” and noticed that the covers seemed different. Classier. The back covers implied more of an actual storyline. I picked one up: “My Surrender.” All right!, I thought. Maybe a little domination and submission with a name like that, eh?

I paid for the movie without really noticing the store clerk. I think he tried to chat me up, but I was getting anxious to get home. Maybe I needed something new….


By the time M. and I were ready to settle in for the evening with our porn flick, I was really looking forward to enjoying it. The set-up was interesting: April is hired by hetero couples to film them having sex and fulfilling their fantasies. Poor April is so afraid of getting hurt again, that even though she is surrounded by sex, she never has any. Until Robert comes along. They have one date before she tries to shut him out—but she keeps fantasizing about his kiss—and he keeps trying to break through her defenses.

The pace of this film is so slow that M. began to snooze. I was interested enough, and intrigued enough by the title, to continue watching. In the third section, April is fantasizing that Robert has snuck into the building, where she is seated on the soundstage. He picks up one of her cameras and begins taping her. She tries to leave and he orders her to sit—she does. “Oh, Oh, M.! Wake up, here comes the good part,” I cried as I shoved at him. He makes her admit her desire for him. Then; oh, yeah!; he picks up the scarf she’s been playing with and winds it around his hand and her face and my heat is really rising now! I’m getting set to really get me rocks off when he ties her up. But then he doesn’t. He plays with her some and she stops the fantasy. The film moves on to the next scene.

“Damn!” M. looked over at me as I turned off the video and flung the remote.

“Problem?,” he teased.

“They didn’t do it right!,” I wailed. “He was supposed to USE the scarf! He was supposed to keep DEMANDING her obedience.”

M. chuckled at me and left the room. After a few moments he returned. In a stern voice, he said, “Follow me. Now.” I did. He took me to the Great Room. The lights were dimmed, but there was one light positioned to spot light one of the bar stools. “Sit.” I did so. M. picked up our video camera and began taping me, like Robert had done in the porno flick. Aaahh—I should have known M. would rescue me from frustrating porn!

He told me to sit in certain ways, certain provocative ways, while he taped, always speaking in a demanding tone of voice. I was really getting into instant obedience when he set the camera onto the tripod and walked over to stand behind me. He began kissing my neck and caressing my breasts, as in the movie. He demanded I tell him I desired him. I did, eagerly. From somewhere he pulled a long silk scarf, one that we had previously purchased together for bedroom use. He used it to caress my skin for a few moments.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and tied the scarf around it. I struggled against it—but silk is very strong! He grabbed my other wrist and wound the scarf around it. Then he knotted the scarf to the back of the barstool so that I had little mobility; a position which, not-so-coincidentally, forces my chest and tits up and out. M. began to rub and squeeze my tits, lick and bite my nipples. I protested against the rough treatment so he brought out another silk scarf and tied it around my mouth. He started to push my legs apart, but I squeezed them together as hard as I could.

“Open to me!,” he demanded. I shook my head. He began caressing my thighs, as if he thought persuasion would work better. He ran his fingers lightly along the tops and the sides of my thighs and then down the sides of my legs. He encircled my ankles with his fingers—and then squeezed. Tight! I gasped. He brought out another silk scarf and lashed my ankles together and to the barstool. Then he stood up, reached his arms around me and, grabbing my buttocks, scooted me forward to the edge of the barstool. I was now in quite an awkward position, having to lean back to alleviate the tension in my arms. But, I saw that defiance was futile. So, when he quietly demanded, “Open to me,” I did.

“Good girl!” He rewarded me with a pillow behind my back…and an achingly sweet kiss. I knew that kiss made my eyes get all heavy-lidded, my nipples to jut, my breath to quicken, my cunt to cream. He picked up the video camera again and told me to beg for him. I did, eagerly, “Please! Please, give me what I want! No one’s as good as you are, M. No one’s as big. No one satisfies me like you do. Please! Please, satisfy me!”

He set the camera down again. He stripped out of the pants he was wearing, revealing a full, stiff, proud tool. I smiled at the knowledge that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I jumped ahead in my mind, realizing that the position he had put me in had me opened to him perfectly for fucking. I think I even began to pant.

“Now, you’re being naughty, aren’t you? Thinking naughty thoughts, aren’t you? Naughty girls must be punished!” I was surprised at that. I really thought we were both as ready as we could possibly be without actually cumming. But M. had more surprises in store for me.

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