I Hate Porn!

Jason and Emma cozied up on the sofa, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm ambiance in the room. Wrapped in the comfort of Jason’s arms, Emma was wholly engrossed in the moment. Her eyes sparkled with an affectionate gaze, fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on his broad, lightly fuzzed chest. She craved and relished this physical intimacy.

The atmosphere painted the picture of mutual adoration, effectively masking the subtle tension kindling beneath the surface. Despite Emma’s genuine affection, Jason had become increasingly hesitant about the prospect of a long-term relationship. He not only found her clingy, the disparity in their desires became more apparent with each passing moment. The weight of her expectations, both emotionally and materially, loomed in the air, creating a subtle rift between them.

Jason was well aware of Emma’s materialistic tendencies. Over the fragmented course of their relationship, he took note of her ever watchful eye. How she sized up his belongings, be it a watch or the luxury sports car, as if her internal processor was calculating their value. The way her face illuminated whenever he discussed the vague elements of the business that netted such luxuries. Emma’s aspirations for glamorous amenities and extravagant experiences subtly underscored a mismatch in priorities.

“Oh, we’re watching THIS kinda movie.” Jason forged a grin as a series of preview trailers began to cast from the VHS cassette.

“Surprise, surprise,” Emma slyly replied as she embarked on her descent into Jason’s lap.

Clingy. Materialistic. Short-sighted. Neither demerit hindered Emma’s one true superpower — the innate ability to pleasure a cock with her mouth. There was no playing hard to get when her mouth and tongue combo went to work, taking Jason from flaccid to rock-solid in seconds.

Emma had the situation firmly in hand, her fist a steady anchor for a hot, slobbery ride to hedonism. That didn’t stop Jason from lending an assist. He scooped the strands of hair and gathered them into a ponytail, which he held within his own fist as she bobbed up and down. In a state of attention purgatory, Jason’s eyes rotated between the inside of his eyelids to the TV, which cast a montage of visuals and moan-full sounds from the trailer of the feature presentation.

Per usual, Emma performed her role superbly, a seasoned flautist masterfully blowing her favorite instrument. Her tongue sailed along his shaft, striking up a symphony of pleasure, each note perfectly tuned to his liking. Hands slick with saliva, she worked her mouth up and down the shaft, her tongue swirling around the tip once working her way back up top. Meanwhile, the flick blared on, its explicit sound effects mingling with the soft moans and slurping from its captive audience.

On the brink of ecstasy, the moment turned on its head when a suddenly engaged Jason turned his focus back to the flick. As clear as the crystal blue sky on a perfect Vegas afternoon, Victoria’s face was plastered on the TV screen. Layered in glitzy makeup and a ridiculously tiny bathing suit, she performed a steamy striptease, eyes fixed dead on the camera. Her image sharpened further, causing Jason’s body to tense up as his eyes widened in shock.

“No! Ohh my God, no!” Jason sat up abruptly, effectively terminating sucky sucky time.

Emma could feel the tension in Jason’s body, see it emblazoned in his face. She tried to make eye contact with him, but he turned away, his face contorted in disgust.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, her voice filled with concern.

“This was a bad idea,” he finally answered.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I don’t even like porn, alright? Just go.”

“Oh my God, you are a piece of work.”

Realizing that their night of passion had come to an abrupt end, Emma began to scramble for her clothes, seething all the while. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“Me neither,” Jason flippantly added. “And don’t forget your tape.”

Clothes balled beneath an armpit, Emma sucked her teeth and stomped over to the TV. “So childish.” The hasty ending to a supposed night of passion lingered with a bitter aftertaste. Angry eye brow furrowed, hands trembling, she impulsively hit the eject button … even though the movie was still playing. The VCR whirred in protest, the cassette stubbornly clung to the mechanism, threatening to be chewed up by the unrelenting machinery. A surge of panic and regret swept over Emma as she watched the delicate filmstrip teetering on the edge of destruction.

“Fucking kidding me!” She frantically pressed buttons and tugged at the tape, her heart pounding with both anger and desperation. The financial repercussions of losing the movie, which she rented from the video store on the way to Jason’s apartment, added another layer of stress to an already turbulent night. The delicate balance between her emotional turmoil and the technical malfunction intensified the chaos in the room.

Amid palatable frustration, irony was not lost on Emma. The malfunctioning VCR became a metaphor for the unraveling of her night, a tangible representation of the chaos that had unexpectedly taken over. Each tug on the tape mirrored the internal struggle she faced, a tangible manifestation of the turmoil within. As she fought to rescue the movie, she grappled with the harsh reality that some things, once set in motion, were difficult to salvage.

After a lucky tug, Emma freed the stubborn tape from its mechanical prison. Slight warping on the exposed reel didn’t stop her from stuffing it beneath the protective flap and slamming the cassette inside the generic rental casing. The familiar click of the plastic closing echoed in the room, marking the end of the unexpected battle with the VCR. Emma couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph, however minor, as she held the now-rescued movie in her hands.

“Asshole!” She spat while storming out of the room.

“Lock the door,” Jason said.”

“Fuck you!”

The front door slammed, leaving Jason alone with his own tortured thoughts. Isolation suffocated the room and emotional turmoil had taken residence within him. Once again, a revelation wrapped in Victoria, landed like a punch to the gut, an unexpected blow that shattered the perceived boundaries of his reality. He stared at the snowy static screen in utter devastation, struggling to reconcile the familiar image of the woman he thought he knew.

Jason’s emotions churned in a cocktail made of equal parts confusion, betrayal, and profound sadness. Victoria’s secret life as an adult film star had unfolded before his eyes, leaving him grappling with the inevitable confrontation that lay ahead. At the same time, he felt a gnawing sense of responsibility. The protective guardian in him had always yearned to shield Victoria from the harsh realities of the world — even if he continually failed and she had already been exposed to the worst of it.

Confronting Victoria about her secret life was a chaotic collision waiting to implode on impact. Her natural response was tuned to combative. Alone in the quiet aftermath of a night gone awry, Jason stared into the abyss of uncertainty, grappling with the shattered illusions of family ties and the daunting path that awaited him in the wake of Victoria’s hidden identity.

Victoria is the ultimate disruptor in Lady Cosa Nostra: Amanita Rising. Now available.

Contel Bradford is a mystical and complex individual. You can attempt to unravel some of the mystery by visiting his author site at countkrewpublications.com.