“Won’t that show up on the bill?” I gaped at him as the loud sounds of people having sex filled the room.
“The record company’s paying, remember.” He cocked his head, looking at the screen. “And they kind if expect it.”
“They expect you to watch porn?”I looked at the screen and saw a blonde with very large, very fake breasts doing a little striptease.
“They’d pay for escorts too, if I wanted them,” he replied casually, his hand stroking my thigh.
“So this is porn.” I watched as the blonde spread her legs for the camera, spreading her labia with nails so long they were more like garden tools.
“You’re kidding me?” Dale sat up. “You’ve never seen porn?”
“No…” My eyes widened when the blonde started putting her fingers inside. “Not movies anyway… she’s going to hurt herself!”
Dale looked and laughed. “That’s what I always thought too. Those fake tits and the bleach blond hair and those nails. Ugh.’
He grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
“There’s more?” Now there were two women kissing, touching each other.
“Mmm. Nice.” Dale perked up and I saw his cock tenting his boxers.
“You like that?” My fingernails traced the hairline at the nape of his neck. “What if I told you Aimee and I did that?”
He turned to look at me, mouth hanging open.
“I’m kidding.” I giggled. “No way. Gross. Never happened.”
“I didn’t think so.” He scoffed, making a face and looking back at the girls. “But for a minute there, you got me thinking about it…”
I watched the dark-haired girl spread her legs for the blonde. At least these two women were far more real. Their breasts didn’t defy gravity and their nails weren’t registered as deadly weapons. The blonde kissed her way down the brunette’s smooth, taut belly. I ran my hands down my own, stopping at my scar.
“Am I ugly?” I asked, getting Dale’s attention. His hand had wandered under his boxers and his attention had clearly been carried away by the image on the screen.
“Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed, his gaze roaming over my body. I was uncovered, my thighs slightly open, leaning back on the couch.
“My scars, I mean.” I winced, running my fingers over the raised spots. They were hard, knotted.
“No baby.” He leaned over and kissed my fingers, my scar too. I wouldn’t let him see me naked for months afterward. Sex always had to be with the lights off. “You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful you make my heart ache from the inside out. And the best part about you is you’re real.”
He glanced back at the screen, making a dismissive noise in his throat.
“That’s fun, sometimes, but it’s fake. You’re real. You’re you.”
“But you like that.” I nodded toward the screen.
“I like watching, sure. I don’t know any guy who doesn’t. Any straight guy,” he added. Then grinned. “And gay guys just watch gay porn.”
“There’s gay porn?”
He laughed, grabbing the remote, pushing the button.
“No!” I protested. “I don’t want… oh. Wait.”
Now the image was of a couple. They were kissing, fondling each other, getting undressed. I watched her unzip him, his cock springing free. I loved that feeling, when Dale’s cock practically escaped out of his jeans into my hand.
“You like that?” Dale cocked his head, smiling.
My sex clenched. God I was so sore from him inside of me. I couldn’t count how many ways or times we’d had sex. The kitchen, the bathroom, the bed—oh god, those damned Skittles—and then the kitchen again, this time with me on the counter…