Radical Encounters

by Radclyffe

  “I can wait.”

  “What are we seeing?”

  “Seed of Chucky.” Her eyes widened and I grinned. “How about Bound? Ever seen it?”

  “As a matter of fact, no,” she said contemplatively. “But I’d like to.”

  I nodded toward the reception desk where a thin, balding man appeared to be dozing behind the counter. “I’ll get some sodas from the machine outside while you get settled. Coke okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  I leaned against the fender of my rental car, wishing it was a ’57 Bel Air convertible, and drained one can of soda while I waited for Sheila to change. She came out wearing khaki shorts and a tank top and looking as fresh as if she’d never been kissed. Maybe she hadn’t. Not by someone like me.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, regarding me curiously.

  I jumped and spun around the car to open her door. “Everything is just fine.”

  She slid in and didn’t ask me anything else, and I was glad. How could I tell her that the hot summer night and the fresh, simple way she looked and the buzz of anticipation in my belly made me feel as if I was sixteen again and about to go on the date I’d always wanted, but never had.

  While I fiddled with the radio, she navigated, searching out the small blue road signs that marked the county roads. We missed a few turns and had to backtrack a time or two, but it really didn’t matter if we were late or not. The journey was proving to be every bit as enjoyable as the destination hoped to be. We didn’t talk about our jobs or where we lived or where we were going. We talked about the last books we’d read and the music we liked and laughed when I had to stop for a flock of chickens in the middle of the road that appeared wholly unconcerned by our presence. Sheila leaned out the window and made shooing motions while I inched the car forward, praying that I wouldn’t feel a bump at any moment.

  Finally we saw the giant movie screen looking obscenely out of place amongst the rolling hills and valleys, and I turned onto the macadam road that sprouted clumps of scraggly grass through cracks in its uneven surface. I hitched up one hip to pull my wallet from my back pocket but Sheila stopped me with her hand on my arm.

  “You buy the popcorn, I’ll get the tickets.”

  Her fingers were cool and firm. She leaned across me to extend a $20 bill out the window and her breasts pressed against my bare upper arm. I jammed my foot down hard on the brake to keep my hips from jumping, but it didn’t do anything to stop the wetness I felt pooling between my thighs. I stared straight ahead and hoped to God she didn’t recognize the sex seeping from my pores.

  When she settled back into the passenger seat, I inched the car forward over the rough ground. A half dozen cars were scattered over a lot the size of a fairground.

  “Where to?” I asked in a strangely gravelly voice. I tried to swallow around the desire in my throat and started to cough.

  “Here,” Sheila said, offering the can of soda she had been sipping from on the drive. “Let’s park in the back. The angle is always better that way.”

  I nodded and drank, aware that as my lips touched the can they were exactly where hers had been only moments before. I wondered if that counted as some sort of phantom kiss. I jockeyed us into a space that actually had a speaker attached. At least half of the places within sight had only wires dangling from bent poles.

  “This place is in pretty rough shape,” I commented.

  “It’s good we came when we did, then,” Sheila said pensively. She reached down beside her seat and worked the controls for a few seconds before turning to me. “Can you pull the car forward a little bit so that we can see the screen from the backseat? I can never get comfortable with my legs under the dashboard.” Then, without waiting for me to answer, she opened the door, hopped out, and just as swiftly got back in the rear. She rolled down the windows on both sides, then leaned over my seat, one hand on my shoulder, her breath warm in my ear. “Go ahead. I’ll tell you when it’s just right.”

  I turned the key in the ignition so hard I was surprised it didn’t snap off. With one quick glance at her out of the corner of my eye, I drove us forward until she said, “There. Stop.”

  “Is that good then?” I asked inanely. All I could think about was her hand on my shoulder. Her fingertips rested just beyond the edge of my T-shirt collar, against my neck. I wanted to rip my shirt off and scream, “Oh please touch me.” My nipples ached from the constant contraction, and I knew that only her fingers rolling and tugging them could soothe the hurt.

  She brushed her hand lower over my chest, then drew away. “After you go get us some popcorn and come back here with me, everything will be perfect.”

  I was out of the car so fast it must have looked like the seat was on fire. As I hurried off toward the low, square building that housed the concession stand and the restrooms, I heard her laughing. On the enormous screen behind me, the credits started to roll.

  Ten minutes later I was back, my arms filled with popcorn and fresh sodas. The cardboard containers of Coke were sweating and the insides of my arms were wet from condensation. I stopped next to the car and leaned down to look in the open window. Somehow she’d managed to push the front seats forward and she was stretched out with her legs propped on the console between them, her head tipped back. She turned lazily when she saw me and smiled.

  “Oh good. I missed you.”

  My knees got wobbly but I managed to stay standing. She held out her arms and I passed the drinks and popcorn in to her. Then I followed. The movie was already in progress, but I wasn’t watching the screen. I angled in the seat so I could see her profile while I pretended to watch Jennifer Tilly. I couldn’t remember now why I’d thought Jennifer was so hot. My whole body was wet and it had nothing to do with the heat.

  I couldn’t get comfortable. My stomach hurt from tamping down the arousal that sluiced through my cunt like a raging river cutting canyons in age-old rock. I shifted, trying to find a place where my muscles didn’t cramp and my clit didn’t ache.

  “Stretch your legs out next to mine,” Sheila said, leaning forward to set her drink and popcorn in the front seat. When I eased my legs onto the console next to hers, she settled back, one thigh half on top of mine, and put her hand in the bag of popcorn I held in my lap. “Do you think she’s sexy?”

  “Who?”

  Laughing, Sheila gave me a look. “Are you watching this?”

  “Seen it.” My insides tightened into a hard knot. What the hell. “You’re much sexier.”

  Her breath caught and she took my soda from where I held it balanced on my knee. She sipped through my straw. “Are you flirting?”

  “Do you want me to be?”

  “Have you ever made love at the drive-in?”

  I groaned and my thighs jumped with a life of their own. She must have felt it. “Not exactly.”

  “Meaning?”

  Her voice had gotten low and soft.

  “Meaning I rolled around a little in the backseat when I was a teenager, but I’d hardly call it making love.”

  “Mmm,” she said musingly, dipping into my popcorn again. “There’s something to be said for taking your time with the good parts.”

  “Sheila,” I started to say, not sure what I was going to say next. I’m so hot I could burst into flames, I’m aching to touch you, Do you even want me to touch you…but the words died in my throat when she dropped a handful of popcorn in my lap.

  “Oh, sorry,” she murmured, delicately reaching between my legs to collect the fluffy white blobs. The backs of her fingers brushed my crotch.

  My hips jolted so hard, my body levitated and my breath whooshed out like I’d been punched.

  “Sorry.”

  She didn’t sound sorry. More amused. And when I looked down, her hand was still there, her fingertips resting gently on the seam of my shorts right over my clit. She pushed in, slow and steady, and I crushed the paper bag of popcorn in my fist. A mushroom cloud of kernels erupted all over us both.

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nbsp; “Uh,” I muttered.

  “Don’t worry. I was done.” Sheila leaned over me, her hand squeezing down on my crotch, and kissed me lightly on the mouth. “With that.”

  Then she took the soda from my other hand, poured the contents out the window, and dropped the container on the floor. While I looked on in a haze of confused lust, she calmly braced her arm on the seat next to my head and levered herself over me until she straddled my waist, a knee on either side of my hips. My body finally caught up, and I tugged her blouse from her shorts as gently as I could.

  She made a little humming noise when I slid my palms up to her breasts. Her bra was tissue-paper thin, her nipples small and hard. Before I could, she reached one hand down the front of her blouse and unhooked the clasp between the cups. Her full firm breasts came spilling out and I squeezed, not so gently now.

  “Oh yes,” she sighed, moving her hands from the seat to grasp fistfuls of my hair. “Play with them. Just like that.”

  While she kissed me thoroughly, her tongue starting at my lips and exploring every dip and hollow deeper inside, I circled her nipples with my fingers, closed down around them, and thumbed the tips. She drew back and caught her lip in her teeth, watching my hands move under her blouse while she rocked in my lap.

  “Take your blouse off,” I whispered hoarsely. There was no one nearby, and the movie flickering on the edges of my vision afforded me enough light to see her. And I wanted to see all of her. I kept up the nipple play while she bared her upper body. The instant her breasts appeared I covered one nipple with my mouth. I licked and strummed it with my tongue and she crooned with pleasure. I was so lost in the sound and the sweet taste of her I didn’t realize she’d put her hand down the front of my shorts until I felt a vise-like grip on my clit. I groaned with the sudden stab of pleasure and almost came. “Easy.”

  “You know,” Sheila panted unevenly, “I always wanted to do this.”

  “What,” I asked, kissing my way back and forth from one nipple to the other.

  “Make love in a car at the drive-in.”

  “Why didn’t y—” I choked when she twisted and tugged on my clit and my vision went red. “You’re going to get me off doing that.”

  “Keep pulling my nipples,” Sheila ordered, jerking me off more gently. “I want to come with you sucking them.” She slid one finger down between my lips and dragged hot, slick come back up over the head of my clit. “Lick me while I make you come. I want to feel you come in my hand.”

  I sucked and bit and squeezed and she rubbed and pinched and stroked.

  “Oh yes I’m coming soon,” she whispered, her mouth against my ear. “You’re making my clit tingle so…nice. Oh. Are you…coming? Come soon. Come…oh.”

  She writhed on my lap, rubbing herself against her own arm where it disappeared down my pants. I didn’t care about coming—I just wanted to watch the pleasure shimmer across her face. Her breasts got hot and heavy in my hands. She shook and shuddered and moaned and while she came I unzipped her shorts.

  “Oh nice,” she finally sighed, sagging against me.

  “Yeah,” I said and skimmed my fingers over her hard clit. She twitched and gasped. “You’re not done.”

  She laughed. “Not hardly.” She sucked on the skin just above my collarbone. “You didn’t come.”

  “I got distracted.” She still had her hand in my pants and slid half off me so that her head was on my shoulder and her body curled along mine. Her fingers skittered over the stiff length of me and I groaned. Now I felt how close she’d gotten me with all the clit play.

  “Who’s not done, huh?” she teased.

  “Ten seconds,” I said through gritted teeth. I was lying. It took three seconds and two long strokes down my cleft and back up again to send me shooting off like a cannon. I must have done something to her clit while I was bucking and shooting because I heard her cry out in surprise and then she was pushing my fingers inside her and coming all over them.

  “What a great movie,” she murmured some time later.

  “Uh-huh.” My hand was still inside her and my arm was cramped from the angle but I didn’t care if it fell off from lack of blood flow. Not as long as I could feel her pulsing and quivering all around me the way she was still doing.

  “You know when I first saw you outside the motel,” Sheila said lazily, “I thought you looked just like Gina Gershon.”

  “I thought you’d never seen this movie before,” I said with a laugh.

  “Mmm, well, not at the drive-in.” She kissed me and ran her finger lightly back and forth over my clit, making me shiver. “And you may not have noticed, but Gina’s got nothing on you.”

  I pressed my palm down on my shorts over her hand. “You’ll get me wired up again.”

  “Well, I like reruns.” She tightened inside around my fingers. “And there’s still plenty of popcorn.”

  Interview with a Porn Star

  “How can you fuck strangers for a living while people stand around and watch?”

  That’s the question everyone wants to ask me, although most people try to sound more polite. Sometimes. I hate doing interviews because no one ever believes my answer. It’s too simple, I guess. The truth is, acting in erotic videos is the perfect job for me because I never have to fake coming, and you can always tell when a girl is faking it. Of course, when I say that, they either look really, really skeptical or say, “But how can you come when it’s all so fake?”

  Sigh. Like girls can’t get off just like guys for no other reason than it feels good?

  Then I have to explain that there is nothing fake about having a girl lick your pussy or stroke your clit. And that I really get off on people watching her do it. Having sex in front of other people makes me come like nothing else. Oh, I get off plenty of other ways and it’s always good, but I never come as hard as I do when I know someone else is looking. So the minute I walk onto the set, even if the director and the cameraman and the sound techs aren’t standing around the bed yet, my pussy gets wet. Put me with another actor in a roomful of people watching us fuck or go down on each other and my biggest challenge is not coming before I get through the scene. I still have to concentrate on holding off until the director wants a come shot, but I’ve been working on that ever since the day I completely embarrassed myself at my first film audition.

  I didn’t know what to expect, so I was psyched when it turned out the director was a hot woman. That was the first plus for me. The second, even better bonus, was that she was looking for an actor to make it with other girls. I have nothing against guys, but girls really do it for me. There’s nothing quite like a pouty mouth slick with lipstick cinched around my clit, unless it’s a small, hard fist pounding inside my cunt. Besides, girls look so sexy when they come. It doesn’t matter if I’m fucking them or sucking on their hot, hard clits or watching them do themselves, I love the way their mouths open with surprise and their eyelids flutter and their bellies quiver just before they cry and throw their heads back and gush all over.

  Oh yeah, I like to watch almost as much as I like to be watched. Almost.

  So I told the director I was good with the girl action and we got through the age thing and the health thing and all the other routine stuff pretty fast. Then she put the paperwork aside and stood up.

  “Do you mind if I take some stills for the Web site? I like to feature our new actors before the film release.”

  “Sure. That’s fine.”

  “Right this way.” She led me into an adjoining room that was set up like a photography studio. Except this had a big bed right in the middle of the room. We were the only ones there.

  “Go ahead and take your clothes off. Then stretch out on your back on the bed.”

  While I got comfortable against a pile of big fluffy pillows, she fiddled with the equipment.

  “Let’s run through the basics,” she said as she walked to the foot of the bed with her camera. “Are you comfortable masturbating in front of other people?”


  I almost laughed. I first discovered I really liked people to watch me come when my housemate walked in on me one afternoon while I was masturbating to a porn video. She wasn’t supposed to be home for another two hours and when the front door opened and she strolled in, I was like thirty seconds from coming. My clit had done that thing where it plumps up right before I pop and little electric shocks were running through it into my stomach and down the insides of my legs. The girls on the screen were sucking each other’s pussies and the way their mouths sounded on each other’s cunts, wet and slippery and yummy, had me rubbing my clit as hard and fast as I could. I turned my head when I heard the door and saw her and my orgasm stalled just before I hit the top, but my cunt was so swollen and achy I couldn’t let go. She looked at the TV and then at me, her gaze zeroing in on my skirt hiked up to my waist and my hands working between my legs.

  “You’re home early.” I gave her a lazy smile and slow-stroked my clit, my fingers coated in juice.

  “Sorry,” she said, but she didn’t look sorry. Her eyes were huge and I could see her breathing fast from across the room, her nipples hard little balls under her tight tee.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured breathlessly. “But do you mind if I finish? I really need to come.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” she said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. “Could I…could I watch?”

  The look on her face, so hungry and helpless, made my hips jump and oh, God I was on the edge again, every bit of blood and bone and muscle coiled so tight it felt like my clit would shatter. And it was so good, I knew I’d come really hard, even harder than when I was about to come from watching the movie.

  “Sit next to me.” I circled my clit as softly as I could so I wouldn’t come right then, but I really really wanted to.

  She just about ran across the room, but she didn’t sit on the sofa like I expected. She knelt on the floor between my knees, put her hands on the inside of my thighs, and leaned over until her face was a few inches from cunt.

  “You like it?” I asked, flicking at my clit with a fingernail.