## Archive-name: vsr-tape

From: snarler@maple.circa.ufl.edu (Drifter...)

Subject: VSR Tape - A Green Hell production

Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica

VSR.TXT - Written in December-March, 1990-91
- Completed in December, 1992 ("Long time, long time coming...") Copyright (C) 1990 by Green Hell, Inc. (Unlimited distribution permitted as long as file goes unchanged)

"VSR Tape"

The black plastic case was warm to Greg's touch. The envelope it had been sent in had insulated it in the mailbox during the heat of the day. Greg's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out why his girlfriend had mailed him a videotape rather then sending a letter. Musing, he wandered over to the VCR and TV set-up in one corner of the small apartment.
During the summer Greg was staying in a small rural town in Virginia, working as a data entry manager for the local outlet of a small chain of clothing stores. It was part of the Co-Op education plan at his college in North Carolina. Unfortunately, it had meant leaving Rhoda, his girlfriend, while she took summer classes at the college to finish up her Film major.
Greg sat on the lumpy and stained couch, sighing as he relaxed the muscles in his feet by propping them up on the small, worn coffee table that was between him and the TV. Having to walk back and forth between work and his apartment was an annoyance and somewhat tiring.
It was also annoying that he hadn't seen Rhoda in over six weeks. They had had a wonderful goodbye fuck which had left him sated. For about a week. By the end of the first month he had become rampantly horny. He was too used to regular sex with Rhoda and found the adjustment hard to make.

"You promise?" Rhoda had asked him, laid out on top of his black body, her usually pale, oval shaped face flushed pink from a recent climax. Her light brown hair was too short to drape across Greg's face as she looked into his dark brown eyes.
"Honey, I already promised. I'll promise again, ok?"
"You looked guilty."
"What?! Come off it, I did not."
"If I even think you are fooling around over there, it'll be over," Rhoda said seriously, eyebrows tucked down slightly. Her thin lips disappeared whenever she did this.
Greg sighed. Rhoda had a jealousy complex. "I can go without sex for three months and not rape someone. Jeez..."
Rhoda pouted. "So how come you have to have it every day with me, huh?"
Greg smirked. "Because I can. *You* were the one who was getting all grabby, anyways."
"Was not."
"Were too."
"Fuck you."
"Please do!" Greg replied gleefully. He giggled as Rhoda slapped his smooth, ebony chest and lifted herself up into a straddling position.
"Just for that, you have to stay on the bottom again," she said, rotating her hips to encourage her boyfriend's semi-soft cock back to life. Greg didn't protest.

Greg adjusted his jeans to accommodate the shifting bulge in his crotch. It was likely going to be yet another night of stroke power and an old wash cloth. But at least he had gotten something from Rhoda. Greg leaned forward with an "umph" and managed to stick the tape into the VCR. The blank face of it slid into the darkened recess of the machine with an accompanying clatter.
The apartment had turned out not to have any phone hook-ups available, and Greg couldn't afford to pay for installation as well as the phone for only three months. When he had written his letter to Rhoda a little over a week ago, he had been particularly bothered that evening. The letter had changed from a general information, I-Miss-You sort of writing to a Wait-Till-I-Get-Back-And- Boink-The-Hell-Out-Of-You type. He had even put in a few of his fantasies that he had previously not mentioned to Rhoda.
Now he mused that perhaps his somewhat serious and intellectual mate had sent him a porno movie rather than write a reply. He almost half-hoped that she had, since it would provide some visual distraction. The stuffy apartment had no cable and the UHF stations were a paltry mix of old-time revival, New Zoo Revue re-runs, and any movie that starred Omar Sharrif. The two video rental stores were no better, and expensive.
Greg waited for the VCR to crank up to speed, laying back on the couch and slipping his shoes off. The tape started but was a flickering mess.
"Shit" he muttered, than leaned forward again and fiddled with the tracking until the image cleared up and locked in place. It was a test pattern.
"Come on..." Greg complained. He waited for a few moments, than impatiently hit the little silver-gray FF button, making the image skip until something different appeared. He rewound a ways, then set it on play and plopped back down on the couch. The test pattern remained for a few seconds before fading out.
An image of Rhoda appeared. "Hi darling," she said. "I got your letter today."
She was seated at her work-study table, a large adjustable one with a top that could be tilted back and forth to varying angles. She used it to draw sketches for her film ideas, as well as for doing some photography and films of layouts. She was sitting in her adjustable height stool. Apparently she had setup her video camera to record her reply. Greg smiled.
"I haven't read it yet," Rhoda continued, "because I have this project. We need to tape a subject doing something that evokes different expressions and emotions, without any acting or prompting." Greg frowned. She didn't mean she-- "So I'm going to record myself reading your letter outloud, and since I haven't read it yet, as Mr. Dunloff will be able to tell," holding up the unopened envelope "I should give some useful, realistic reactions."
"Oh fuck..." Greg moaned. He hoped that this tape would end suddenly, with Rhoda turning off the camera before she got to any of the nasty bits. Then he wondered if she were mailing the tape to him because she was pissed off and wanted to end their relationship. Rhoda wasn't too prudish but she was shy and reserved about her sexuality. Greg started to consider fast forwarding to the end of the tape.
"Lemme see..." Rhoda said, adjusting her position on the stool. She was evidently looking at some monitor off to the side of the camera. She had on a very yellow but simple blouse and light blue slacks. "Color balances are not evidence of great talent" she had told him once when gushing about her work. "A lotta times, though, it impresses the teacher." Greg felt a twinge of jealousy slip through him as he wondered how much of Rhoda's body impressed teachers.
When she was apparently satisified that the camera would view her reactions in the best possible manner, Rhoda opened the envelope and pulled out the thick sheaf of paper. She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Were you bored, or have you simply forgotten how to type?" Greg snorted. He shifted into laying in a horizontal position on the couch, hands under his chin. He had decided not watching the tape all the way through would be a bad idea.
Looking at the letter, Rhoda cleared her throat and began to read. Greg envisioned her reaction when she got past the first couple of pages. But the vision was short lived when he considered how reserved Rhoda normally was, except under "romantic" conditions. As she read through the initial rambling, lingering occasionally to make a comment to him (or to the teacher?), Greg started to get mildly bored.
"'It's not too bad here, weather-wise. It's not like when we were in Florida during spring break, with all that damned humidity. Which is good because this apartment doesn't have it's own air conditioning.'" Rhoda stopped reading and said, "You spelled 'its' wrong there. Possessive pronouns don't use apostrophes in their plural form." She smirked at the camera for a moment. Greg decided he'd erase that part of the tape.
Rhoda continued on until: "'My boss is a real pain, kind of over-demanding. But she's fair--' She?"
Uh oh, Greg thought. Rhoda was looking at him from the TV. No, he corrected himself, she was looking at the camera when she was recording it.
"You didn't tell me you would have a woman for a boss," Rhoda said a bit cooly. She was a protective type of woman, and didn't like her mate being available to any other females.
"I didn't know," Greg muttered. "Read the rest of the damn letter!"
Rhoda kept looking out of the screen for a moment, then went back to the letter, snapping out the next few words. "'But she's fair and good natured. I guess grandmothers can't be mean--'" Rhoda looked slightly embarrassed for a moment, then continued sheepishly. "'--mean to anyone, even their workers. The amount of work she gives me is tremendous though. I had to re-do their data base system because of a change Mrs. Cullery wanted in the inventory system.'"
Greg sighed as he remembered the painful re-writing using Lotus 1-2-3.
On the screen, Rhoda shifted on her stool and put an elbow up on her work table, resting her head on her hand. Computers were not a strong interest point for her. "'The new system had to have extra entries for texture of the clothing as well as some color scheme refrencing system I still don't understand. I hope you can explain it to me when I get home.'" Rhoda smiled. Greg smiled too, though it was more of a grin.
"'I wish I didn't have to wait the next six weeks to see you again, baby. Remember when we were talking before I left and I said I'd survive?--" Rhoda begin to blush slightly, but she continued with only a slight hesitation "--I lied. I'm stuck with work that's boring as hell and when I come home there's no one here to kiss me like you do.'" Rhoda was definitely blushing now. "Greg, you didn't have to write this..." she said, looking at him through the camera and the spool of videotape.
"Yes I did," Greg muttered. He had worked himself up into a real frenzy when writing the letter and had jacked off two times before mailing it, and a third time afterwards.
Rhoda hesitated before continuing. "'When I remember our last--" she muttered the word "--I get sweaty and anxious. I know I promised you I would never even flirt with another girl,--" Rhoda's expression darkened for a brief moment "--but it's very hard. Right now, in fact.' What the hell? 'If I were there with you now I'd be--' Oh jeez!" Now Rhoda was blushing darkly.
This is it, Greg thought. She's going to drop it. I wonder how pissed she is? Was?
"Well honey, I guess I can't use *this* as my project," Rhoda said to the camera. "Too bad you can't handle no sex for a little while." She giggled and smirked while Greg frowned.
"A little while, ha ha. Bitch," Greg muttered. "Just you wait..."
"But I miss you baby," Rhoda said seriously. "I wish you were here too. Once my project is done I'll have a lot of free time and no one to share it with. And even busy, I miss you." Rhoda looked a little sad and Greg felt a bit of sourness in his insides. Here he had been thinking about nothing but sex, ignoring his feelings for Rhoda. He promised himself he would *not* forget what he felt for her. And if that meant he had to spend more time with her, so be it.
Hardly an unhappy arrangement.
On the screen Rhoda's image looked wistful for a moment, than glanced back at the letter. She started reading from it again, casually. "'If I were there with you now I'd be slipping myself into you so fast you wouldn't be able to breath. You'd be on the bed with your legs way up in the air on either side and I'd be giving it to you hard.' Rhoda smirked again. "Real master of the written word, aren't you?" Greg growled. "'Did you know you look really sweet when you close your eyes and come in that position?'" Rhoda was giggling slightly. "No I don't. You really are desperate, y'know?"
Greg had obtained a building hard-on hearing Rhoda read his letter. He wiggled around to try and make the bulge more comfortable. No shit he was desperate!
"'I know you probably think it's terrible for me to write this but I am too excited to stop. I keep dreaming about you and I wake up with this hard-on that doesn't go away very fast, even after I jerk off.' Oh Greg... You men are so unlucky." She licked her thin lips nervously. As if revealing a dark secret, she said quietly "I've been dreaming about you too."
Greg raised an eyebrow.
"'When I get home in August, you had better be ready for a very horny guy who will fuck your brains out.' How ready do you think I should be, Greg?" Rhoda asked. She seemed to be breathing slightly harder.
"Naked, on your back in front of the door, with your legs spread," Greg said. He had thought about writing that into the letter but had chickened out.
"Maybe I'll be wearing a negligee. Or my teddy. You like black lace." She smiled with a hint of her sensual self coming through. She went back to the letter, a bit more intently than before. "'Maybe during the last week before I come home I'll save it all up for you. We can try out that trick we talked about.' Oh! I forgot about that! 'But I don't know if I have that much control.' Yes you do. I should know." Rhoda smiled wickedly. Greg noted that she had changed her sitting position on the stool so that her legs were propped open a ways. Was she consciously or unconsciously giving him a crotch shot? Not that he could see much, even through the tight slacks.
Rhoda seemed to be reacting a lot more openly than he expected to the letter. Maybe the camera had loosened her inhibitions. Or perhaps it was the distance between them, acting as a buffer.
Whatever it was, he wasn't complaining. Neither was his enlarged penis.
"'I get hard-ons at work sitting at my station in the back of the storage room, thinking about you and how much I miss you and your body. I swear to myself that when I'm back with you I'll make you think you've died and gone to heaven.'" Rhoda's legs were swinging open and close slightly, a regular rhythm of motion. "'I'll tease you and play with your pussy until you scream. I can see it so clearly in my head. Your legs are spread out wide on the bed'" Rhoda unconsciously slid her legs down until the feet were just touching the floor. They swung open. "'and your pussy is already damp because you know how much I'm going to make you come.'"
Greg's hard-on was too painful to leave restrained anymore. He sat up and managed to hit the pause button on the VCR. Then he undid his belt and slipped it out of the denim loops before dropping his jeans around his ankles and then stepping out of them. He hadn't bothered to wear any underwear, so his thick, short cock bobbed slightly in the stuffy air. A thin film of sweat was clinging to his dark brown balls. Still in his shirt, he unpaused the VCR and sat back on the couch, legs propped up on the scruffy table in front of it. The tape continued.
"'I place my hands on your thighs and rub them, massaging the muscles. My mouth goes to your pussy and I kiss you there. I lick my way around your mound, tasting your pubic hair.'"
Greg wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a dark spot starting to appear in the crotch of Rhoda's slacks. The video lines made it hard to tell. He was definitely sure about her flushed face and heavy breathing though. Unnoticed, his hand was gently rubbing his cock.
Rhoda had always enjoyed being eaten out. It had been new for her when they started dating. It quickly became one of the best ways to turn her on and satisfy her. He listened to Rhoda as she continued to read huskily.
"'I love to lick your pussy. You taste sweet and salty as I suck on your pussy lips while you moan and beg. I really love it!' Oh god Greg, *you* love it? Why do you think I want you to do it?!" Rhoda's slender lips curled laciviously around the pink tip of her tongue. There was no doubt in Greg's mind now that she had a damp crotch. The stain was clearly visible between her legs. He rubbed his index finger around the sensitive point just under his glans. Thin, clear fluid oozed out of his piss hole and gleamed on the ebony head. Seeing his girlfriend getting hot over something he wrote was turning him on fiercly.
Rhoda seemed hesitant as she opened her mouth to say something else. Her pixelated image rippled as a bad spot on the tape rolled past the video head. "Greg," Rhoda said in her breathy voice, "I know I act kind of prudish some of the time. I can't help it because it was part of the way I grew up. I've tried to change that, especially with your help." Greg began to feel embarrassed, listening to his girlfriend's sudden outpouring of honesty while he had one of his hands on his cock. "And I want you to know that I'm *not* a prude."
With those words, Rhoda got off the stool and started to unbutton her blouse. Greg's throat went dry. His girlfriend's blouse came open with the last button and her small, flatly nippled breasts appeared. Greg sighed, his eyes eagerly roaming over the video-small reproduction of two of his favorite organs.
"Damn it," Rhoda said, as she noticed the dark stain in her slacks. "Look what you did!" she accused. "You and your pussy eating..." Rhoda's hands roamed over the crotch of her slacks, assessing the level of damage done by her natural lubricants. Greg stroked his prick, hoping Rhoda would do what she had not let him see her do before.
"Ummm..." The sound escaped from Rhoda's throat suddenly. Her hand was rubbing her crotch in a new but familiar way, the fingers held together. Her eyes were closed. Greg had his wide open, his fist sliding up and down his cock. The pulse of blood ran through it with regular throbs, twitching the dark length slightly. Rhoda's image stopped rubbing herself suddenly as she realized what she was doing.
"Shit," Greg exclaimed, hoping this wasn't the end of what was turning out to be a very great tape. It wasn't.
"I'm going to give you a present, baby," Rhoda said. She was taking off her slacks as she spoke. "Because truthfully, I've been pretty horny too. And I am *not* a prude!" This last comment seemed directed more at herself than at Greg. Her slacks off, Rhoda stood with her hands on her hips, facing the camera. She was looking towards the side. "I'm too fat," she said towards the monitor.
"Bullshit," Greg said. Why the hell did she always think that?
"Anyways, I'm going to do myself right here and tape it and send the tape to you. And I'll be reading your letter while I do it!" Rhoda gave one of her sexy smiles, eyelids lowered seductively. Greg groaned in appreciation. It was a fantasy coming to life. It was an unexpected surprise. It was making his balls pull up into his belly.
Rhoda sat down on the stool again, her legs spread open and crooked up part way so that she was perched with her cuntle fully visible. She picked up Greg's letter from the tilted table, the paper rustling as she flattened it out so she could hold it one hand. "Where was I? Umm..." Rhoda skimmed over part of the letter, than found her spot. "'I really love it! I love to taste your juices and feel the hot skin of your thighs against my cheeks. You make happy and excited sounds as I tongue your clit and then suck on it gently.'" Rhoda's right hand was between her legs now, rubbing and stroking her snatch. The camera wasn't close enough for Greg to see the details enough, which was frustrating. He did enjoy seeing her whole body, however, as she played with herself. Especially her face. There was a look of concentration and excitement on it, a quick darting of the tongue to moisten the lips.
Rhoda was concentrating on the letter, her voice starting to quaver here and there as she read it. "'I'm visualizing myself making you cuh-come with my tongue and lips. My tongue is inside your vagina, wiggling from side to side' Ummmmm... 'and then up and down. I flutuh-tuh-ter the tip of my tongue and it makes you squeal when I do.' Oooh! I love that! 'And I'm sssucking on your mound all this tuh-time until you start cominnngg all over my face.'" Rhoda's breath rasped slightly as she read, her chest heaving. She had two of her fingers in her cuntle, using a stirring motion, eliciting moans and gasps from he parted mouth. Greg used the index finger and thumb of his right hand to stimulate the head of his cock, its helmet shining darkly with pre-cum. Each stroke seemed to add another notch in the belt of tension surrounding his balls and cock.
"'I've gotten so hard writing this that I've had to ssstop and take my dick out of my pants.' Aaaah! 'I know that I'm goingGNH to jerk myself off befFFFfore long, thih-thinking about you and how wonderful it'll be to fuck you again. To hold you steady as I pump into you, your puh-pussy grabbing me and tryinngh to hold me still. I-I have to relievvve it nnooowwww.'" Her eyes fluttered slightly and Rhoda leaned back slightly.
Greg's long fingers stroked over the length of his cock. The warm pads of his fingers gripped the burning skin of his erection, coaxing out more pre-cum from the tip. He was pulling himself closer to the point of grabbing the length and stroking. Dry heat gently sucked sweat from him, hist shirt sticking to his back and armpits.
"Ooooh, was my baby hornnny?" Rhoda's voice was tense and sensuous at the same time. "Ummmm... 'I just finished. All I had to do was thinnnk of you and I couldn't hold back. All over the wuh-washcloth.'" Rhoda's right hand wiggled at the end of its wrist. Two fingers slid up and down just inside the inner edges of her pussy. But the view wasn't clear enough for Greg to see the glossy juices coating her fingertips. "Aaalllll over the washcloth, baby?" she said huskily. "You have big loads, but not that big!"
"Jussst wait," Greg husked, starting to pull the foreskin of his penis up over the head and then back down. A slow, steady rate, for now. "Hoover dam, Rhoda, just you wait..."
On the slightly dusty TV screen, his girlfriend was squirming and fiddling, looking into the camera as if she wanted it to grow a fleshy rod for her to play with. "I'mmmm sssoooooo hot now, Greg," she whispered. "I can't sit on this stool anymore." She got up and put the letter down, then went up to the camera and suddenly there was a flickering of silent snow. Before Greg could yelp a protest, the image returned. With a new perspective.
"How's this, honey?" Rhoda said, laid out on the tilting table. She had adjusted it so she could lay back with the support of some pillows and prop her legs open, feet resting on the ledge of the table. The camera had been shifted closer to the table, aligned precisely with the vertical purse between Rhoda's pale thighs. A naked, wantonly displayed woman, filling the TV screen.
"Ooohhhhhh, fuck," Greg moaned. He could see the sheen on Rhoda's puss, drops of her dew entangled with the curly, dark brown pubic hair. Fist squeezing, he stroked his root with vigor. The belt was growing tighter, tingling around and in his cock base.
"I bet you'll be jerking your thing when you see this!" Rhoda breathed. She pinched her nipples, hard and round already, then rubbed the base of them with her index fingers. Cooing, she pulled out Greg's letter (now distinctly wrinkled) and once more held it in her left hand to read from. "'I know you'll probably be reading this and blushing and getting upset--' Do I look upset, Greg?" Rhoda put on a coy expression, which didn't come off well with her fingers wiggling in her snatch, "'But I can't help myself. I luuhve you and I love your body. I want you ssso bad it hurrrts. I'm still huh-hard.' Oh yeah, you arrrre my hard baby who's going to *fuck* his darling when he ggGUHets home!" Greg arched his hips up and a little bit of semen drooled out of his cock. He was close to coming now, with each delicious stroke. But he held back.
"Ummmm... oooh close..." Rhoda's eyelids fluttered again, one of the unmistakable signs of her preparing for climax. "Unnnnmmm, oh your letuh-tuhter... 'And I think I have to tell you about wuh-what I've been fannghtuhasizing lately. You'll hate me for it but I-I need to write it downnn.' ooh? 'I've thought abow-bout it... before, not too offften though. I imagine layinGGNH.. your beautiful body outuuhhh on a four-poster... bed? and tying your... Legs and Arms down with SCARVES and then slowly making LOVE to you' oh *GOD I'M GONNA COME*!" Rhoda's volume jumped up at the end of her sentence like a bolting animal. Her left hand trembled as it crumpled the letter in it. Her lower lip slipped totally under its partner. Greg's semen started to push out of the hard stones in his scrotum.
Breathing like a locomotive, sweat slicking up his arms and chest and buttocks. Rhoda wailing and arching her hips to her hands clutched there, the letter getting stained with juices that sprinkled out with her vaginal contractions. Greg grunting and then crying out and letting loose a shower of cum, hundreds of little drops sprinkling his thighs and pelvis, his hand and forearm. Pale white on dark browm. Rhoda's image on the phospher glass twisting, moaning, jerking.
"UUUHH! UUHHHHNNNGGGGGGGHHH!!" Greg's semen sprinkled out again, seperating the tiny edges of his cock slit. He forced the rest of the juices out with hard, squeezing strokes. He panted and watched Rhoda recovering from her own orgasm. She had let loose so suddenly it had torn his lust open. "Ummmm... oh fuuuuhhck that was good..." Greg rubbed his slightly softer prick gently, because it was so sensitive. He enjoyed listening to the little sounds that issued from the TV speaker. His girlfriend sighing and panting over a climax HE had made with what he had written.
"Ooohhhuuuuuhhh... huuhmmmm... Oh God, aaaaahhh... oh yeah..." Rhoda's voice crept to a mumble. Her head drooped to one side and she let out a shuddering, ragged sigh. Greg's heart swelled, seeing his girlfriend so relaxed and glowing. He'd never seen her masturbate before but she had always been beautiful when she came. It was true just as much now as when he was with her.
"Umph," Greg dropped his feet from the ragged coffee table and got unsteadily to his feet. He paused the VCR, then stripped off and got a damp washcloth and cleaned himself up. Phallus bobbing at half-mast, he gulped the rest of his semi-cold beer and retrieved another one from the kitchen. The fuzzy, tangy suds crackled down his throat.
Thinking of how much better this was than just playing with himself in the bathroom, fantasizing, Greg unpaused the VCR and plopped down on the couch. The air was again filled with the quiet sounds of Rhoda's heavy breathing and little sighs. Then she spoke.
"Oh Greg... God you don't... know... Oh, I've never told you, ummm, it makes me shiver when I think about," she opened her eyes and looked into the camera, "about being tied down. Not helpless but just... paralyzed. Whheeeww..." The crinkling sound of the letter as Rhoda lifted her hands out of her groin. She giggled. "I came all over your letter baby..." Greg's staff twitched a bit. "I could *never* have told you about it... It's so embarassing..." Rhoda was blushing slightly again. "But now... you know... We can try it... Ummmmmm!" She giggled again.
Greg made a note to buy some sturdy, colorful scarves from work to bring back home. Long ones.
It had only been ten minutes since his climax, but Greg's peter was getting harder again. Just thinking about the fantasy that could now come true made it bob into full hardness again. And a similar effect must have occurred with his girlfriend.
"I'm still hot. Let's see what we can do about that..." Rhoda's hand caressed her breasts some more, eliciting sighs from her delicate mouth. Then the hand went back to roost between her thighs. She started reading again. "'And now that I've admitted that, I'll be happy to just fuck you regularly. I can't wait until you're on top of me again and making those neat sounds while you ruh-ride my cock.'" Rhoda gasped slightly, her busy fingers having found a particularly sensitive spot. Greg was holding his breath as he pumped his cock slowly, the wonderful friction charging his glands.
"'You feel wonderful puh-pushing down on me and making me feel so good. You have a perfect pussssy, it tastes great and it can fuuuhn--fuck forever.' uh-uh-uh, god..." Rhoda panted in time with the insertion of her index and middle finger, pushing the folds of her slick twattles aside. 'I can feel every little bit of yuh-your insides on my cuh-cock, uummm, pressing against me. And you slide that wuh-wonderful pussy up and down, maa-makingggnh my cock wet and slippery, oh, so that it fits inside that ssspecial little spot a little be-below your belly buttonnn...' Oh yeah, fuck me baby!" Rhoda closed her eyes and pumped herself with her fingers, gasping. "Fuck oh please yeah, oh Greg I want it!" Greg was furiously stroking his cock, wishing he had some baby oil or vaseline or animal fat or *something*.
"Fuck fuck fuck," Rhoda panted on the TV screen, the small speaker making her cries a little bit tinny. The index, middle, and ring finger of her right hand were glistening gently, the first two knuckles worth occupying her pussy as she shoved them in, than appearing momentarily almost to the clear nails before vanishing again. "Oh God I wannnt you ssssooo bad Greg," Rhoda whimpered, her voice catching. His cock throbbed with need, pliant but hard. "Please bae-baby," Rhoda cried on the video, "please come and ta-take me. Ooooohhhh Gawwd..." Her eyes fluttered. "I need it... I need *you*!" Greg felt his heart leap at the intensity of emotion in Rhoda's plea, the wild look in her beautiful eyes. She really did need him, body and soul. "Come, come, come to me," she was chanting, wildly.
His chest was heaving as air jumped in and out of his lungs. Sweat dimpled Greg's body, collecting in natural crevices and pockets. Saliva and pre-cum lubricated his palm, making a tight and slick orifice for his rigid, swollen cock. The apartment had grown stuffy and thick with his masculine odors, the sound of flesh on flesh. "Unnnnngh," he groaned, sweet pleasure prickling through his testicles and shooting into his cock. "Come come Come COME *COME*!" Rhoda's image shouted, her fingers pumping in a frenzy. "oohhhhh GAAAAWWWD I LOVE YOU GREG!" His eyes snapped open wide and Greg grunted, hips pushing into the air. Rhoda was orgasming loudly, an expression similar to pain on her face as her skin flushed a visible dark red. Greg gasped as semen came streaming out of his straining penis, white jets jumping into the air to land on his short, curly pubic hair. "Baby," he gasped as he watched the screen, seeing his girlfriend's thighs shaking as she shivered in the throes of some sort of throwback climax. Never before had he wanted her so badly, to sleep with and hold and cuddle and snuggle next to. The last of his semen dribbled out as the videotape continued to unwind, the image of Rhoda slowly relaxing with her head hanging down. He could faintly hear her quiet little sobs for the next several minutes.
Then the image flickered away. A test pattern was slowly revealed from behind a field of temporary snow.
It was ten minutes before Greg was recovered enough to get into the bathroom and shower. It was several hours before he had everything packed and was heading out the door, back to North Carolina.

| Drifter... Homo Postmortemus |
| ~~Annuit Coeptis Novus Ordo Seclorum~~ |
| ObQuote: The sweating, bruised, insect-bitten, food-splattered priest |
| said "Where's your external data tap?" --The Exorcist |
| ObClaim: Freedom isn't a right, it's a state of mind. |
| Internet: SNARLER%oak.decnet@pine.circa.ufl.edu -or- 7%arms.uucp@ufl.edu |

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