The A.V. Club - Ch. 11

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Eleven: Emily Eats at Denny's

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission. This story is copyright©2016 J.K. Ermon.

~~~

On our way home from Scarlett's show, we all stopped at a Denny's just a few minutes down the highway from Tin Pan Allie's. I checked my watch as we got seated and was startled. It was only a quarter-to-ten. Once again, I was amazed how much life-changing stuff could get crammed into just a few hours. I should have learned that by now from my experiences with Emily in the portable.

It was wonderful to gobble down stacks of pancakes while we were all still high from our night out.

"Oh my God," moaned Donnie. "I can't believe how good this tastes."

Emily made an inarticulate groan of agreement as she stuffed her face with a big wedge of flapjack.

Another good thing was that our dining section was nearly empty. We could talk freely.

"Okay," Frank was saying amid all the chomping and gulping. "We all know what happens to men when they're intimate with emergent women. After that Sunday with Betty and Pauline, I realized it's always been less clear what happens to women."

"Their boobs get bigger, don't they?" asked Mark indistinctly.

"Not necessarily," said Frank. "If you recall, Betty had small breasts, and she'd been with Pauline for years."

"Small, yes," Jack said. His face took on a dreamy expression. "But also perfect. Small and perfect."

"I agree," Mark said, and a fond reminiscent look came over his face as well. "They were perfect. Perky and firm and...sassy."

"Who's Betty?" asked Emily.

"Pauline's manager-slash-traveling companion," Frank said.

"Her bitch," clarified Mark.

"Oh," said Emily. "Her performing partner?"

"Pretty much, yeah," said Mark. "Where did you hear about that?"

Emily shrugged. "Bobby gave me some magazines."

Frank cleared his throat. "I asked Dee-Dee about it tonight, after the show. She was really nice. Apparently, for women, the health benefits occur just as soon they do for men. The appearance benefits, however, tend to line up according to the woman's body type and personal aesthetics. More interestingly, however, over time, women gain an unprecedented control over their own reproductive functions."

"What does that mean?" asked Donnie.

"The way Dee-Dee described it, 'whenever I have sex with a man, if I want to conceive, I conceive. If I don't want to conceive, I don't.'" He made a little 'ta-da' kind of flourish and I nearly dropped my fork. "Apparently, she and Ronnie have four kids. The oldest one just started high school."

There was a kind of awed silence.

"Wow," said Mark. "Can you imagine having Dickgirl Dee-Dee for a mom? Shit. I'd breastfeed 'til college."

"It does kind of make sense," Donnie said in a hushed voice. "All that weekend, Claire was popping birth control pills like candy. Betty never did, once."

Emily cleared her throat. "Did she say...how long it takes for that particular ability to kick in?"

"Depends," Frank said. "If the exposure is intermittent, months. If it's sustained - say, daily - less than two weeks. Dee-Dee told me...back when she was a teenager in the forties, she ran away from home--"

"Hold up," I said. "She was a teenager in the forties?"

"Correct," said Frank. "She's forty-two. Her youthful appearance is also in line with prolonged exposure to emergent DNA. Anyway, when she ran away, she fell in with Candi Gatling."

"Wow," said Jack with real respect. Donnie whistled.

"Who?" asked Emily.

"Candi Gatling," Mark said. "That's Candi with an i. A first-generation DG performer. She emerged in 1939, a year after Seahag. Became one of the trailblazers of the first sausage circuit."

I nodded. "That run still exists today. The Ozark Twister. From Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, through Missouri, to Hanging Rock, Kentucky. Thirty stops."

"Apparently she owns half of Vegas, now," said Jack. "I think I still have a couple of her trading cards."

Frank said, "Dee-Dee, as she put it, 'rode the Twister' with Candi that whole summer. It took about a week of daily intercourse before it happened."

Emily asked, "How did she describe it?" She was very interested. She'd stopped shoveling pancakes into her freckled maw and was looking at Frank intently.

"She said it was like discovering a new set of muscles. As soon as she started fiddling with them, she said she understood, instinctively, what they were for."

"Wow," said Emily.

"And that's not the only benefit," Frank went on. "Dee-Dee confirmed that men who are intimate with emergent women over time gain vitamin J in their semen."

"Harold's sperm was like that," said Emily.

"You're kidding," exclaimed Mark.

"She's right," I confirmed. "It wasn't as strong as a dickgirl's, but definitely present." I looked at Frank. "Did she say how long that takes?"

He shrugged, "Again, it depends on the level of exposure. Daily exposure, maybe a month or two. Intermittent, it could take years."

He raised a finger. "An even more interesting point - women who are regularly exposed, over time, gain that same ability in their touch alone."

There was another brief silence.

"Seriously?" Mark said. "Dee-Dee said that?"

Frank nodded. "She demonstrated it. She touched me. I felt it." He nodded at me. "Like Bobby said, it wasn't as powerful as directly ingesting their sperm, but..." he shrugged. "It was definitely there."

Donnie said slowly, "I think I felt it too. When she was kissing me. I was already so high on Scarlett's stuff...I thought it was because I was so excited. The good feelings spiked."

"Dee-Dee also said," Frank said, and stopped. A bunch of other diners had come into the restaurant and our waitress was ferrying them into our section. He lowered his voice.

"She also said, that emergent women who've been active the longest, those Candi's age, can do it without even touching you. Just their proximity is enough."

"Get outta town," said Mark. "Really?"

Frank shrugged. "Dee-Dee certainly believed it. You know how I feel about anecdotal evidence, but I trust her word."

"Wow," Jack said quietly.

Our waitress came around and we asked her about the new arrivals.

"You got in just ahead of the rush," she explained as she refilled our drinks. "The drive-in just let out. We always get crowds about now."

We changed topics to safer high school stuff. Emily talked about her AP correspondence courses. She was sailing through them. My friends asked about her astronomy coursework and it segued into a deep discussion about the physics of warp travel on Star Trek. I was happy and proud to see she could more than hold her own talking science with us.

Then Mark dropped a bomb on us.

"Marjorie's leaving in two weeks."

"What?" we chorused.

"Leaving?" asked Jack. "As in, moving away?"

Mark nodded glumly. "She told me today. We were...talking, in the second-floor mop cupboard."

Our high school's second floor utility storage room was known as the Grant Hilton. It was a well-known make-out-spot-slash-malt-shop.

"Didn't she just get here?" Donnie asked. Mark shrugged.

"Her dad's in some kind of trouble. She doesn't know what's going on, but they have to move again. It's the third time since the school year began. She's really upset."

"That's terrible, Mark," said Frank. "You just met her."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Will you be staying in touch with her?" Emily asked.

Mark shrugged. "We'll try, but right now she doesn't even know what state they're moving to. She just knows it's someplace far away." He sighed. "We'll have to see. All we can do now is make the most of the next two weeks."

~~~

A brief side note: the saga of Marjorie Stahlberg's family was fascinating stuff. We later found out that her dad was a mob accountant who'd ran afoul of his paymasters. He took his family into hiding (which is when they came to Point Pleasant), and then Witness Protection. When the full story came out months later, the whole town was abuzz. It was the most dramatic piece of news to hit our burg since Ziggy Owens set fire to the school in '64.

~~~

"Sweetie," Emily said sympathetically to Mark. She glanced around the restaurant, then casually undid her dickey and stuffed it in her coat pocket. The vee between her lapels was suddenly filled with cleavage. We all brightened, especially Mark. He was right next to them. "Here."

She undid the second button of her trenchcoat, keeping the first button below the lapels closed. She opened the flap a little.

"Put your hand in," she said. "Get a nice feel. Cheer you right up."

Emily was sitting sandwiched between Mark and me. As he reached into her coat, she cautioned him, "Keep your arm below the table."

Mark kept it discreet. There was only the barest hint of rustling as he fondled her breasts. Emily smiled at him and her cheeks went pink. I looked around the place. No one noticed him feeling her up under her coat.

My friends, however, were staring avidly.

Donnie cleared his throat. "Um...I have a brother in Vietnam. I could use some cheering up too."

"Seriously?" said Jack. "You're gonna exploit Richie's predicament like that?"

"Um," Frank said. "I have struggled with social handicaps my entire life. It's been very rough. I would like to be cheered up too, if that's okay."

"I have asthma," Jack put in quickly, exhibiting blatant hypocrisy.

Emily clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gales of giggles. I'm certain that including hers, there were six very hard cocks under that table.

"Oh crap," said Mark suddenly.

His eyes were wide and he was staring across the restaurant. His hand slithered out of Emily's coat.

I followed his gaze and the others did likewise.

"Oh, crap," Jack and Donnie said at the same time.

Marianne Fleischmann had just entered the Denny's. She strode in with a couple of other senior girls flanking her.

"I totally forgot." Mark's voice was faint. "This is her favorite stop on the way back from the drive-in."

"Jesus, Radakovic," Jack said with a grimace.

"I didn't know she was going there tonight!"

Emily looked at me askance. I whispered in her ear, "She's Mark's ex-girlfriend. A real nightmare."

Mark looked down and tried to conceal his face with his hand. It was too late. She'd already spotted us. She quick-marched over to our table with a big scowl, which was kind of her default expression.

I could almost hear the whistling sound of our cocks deflating.

~~~

Marianne Fleischmann was a short, chunky girl with a swarthy complexion, great masses of frizzy brown hair, and a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her large nose. We'd all known her since grade school.

She'd come back from her yearlong bout of mono with a sour disposition, a caustic tongue, and a grown-up pair of boobs. Any boy that tried to ask her out, however, got shot down in spectacular, vituperative fashion. Mark was the only one who could joust with her. When he wasn't trying to be suave, he could be quite funny. It took a few months of verbal fencing, but by Thanksgiving their patchy relationship was underway. We'd all figured Mark stuck it out with her because of the old axiom beggars can't be choosers.

She stood in front of our big L-shaped corner booth with her hands on her hips.

"Markian Radakovic," she said in a carrying voice. "Explain yourself."

"What, Marianne?" he asked. He sounded resigned.

"What's all this horse-puckey I'm hearing about you and Marjorie Stahlberg?"

He looked up at the ceiling, drew a breath and looked back at her. "Yes. Marjorie and I are dating. So what?"

"So what?" Her voice rose in pitch and volume. "What do you mean, so what?"

Other diners' heads began turning.

"Marianne, you broke up with me months ago."

"That's not how it works and you know it!"

Mark crossed his arms. "So how does it work, Marianne? I put my whole life on ice until you deign to call me?"

Her mouth opened. I could tell she was about to say, Well, yes. To be fair, that was how it always worked in the past. She shut it instead and changed tactics.

"I," she said with great exasperation, "called you last week."

Mark looked blank. "You did?"

"You know I did! I left three messages."

"Oh. With my sisters?"

"Of course with your sisters! Your parents never pick up the phone!"

Mark winced. "I'm sorry," he said. "The girls...aren't great at relaying messages."

This was true. Mark's sisters hated Marianne. They made a point of not passing her messages on to him.

He took a breath. "Okay, well, that's unfortunate, but it's also moot. Marjorie and I are going steady." He gave her a pointed look. "When I took her out on Tuesday, she made it official."

We all knew what that meant. So did Marianne. She looked more shocked than the patrons at the Tin Pan when Emily dropped her trenchcoat. Not only was she upset, but also terribly confused. Mark pulling the plug like this wasn't in her script.

Marianne noticed Emily. "Who's this?" she asked tightly.

"My name's Emily," she said. "I'm Bobby's girlfriend."

"I'm not talking to you," Marianne said. "And I recognize you. You're that fat girl from the shortbus. The retard."

"Marianne!" I barked. "You're out of line."

Puberty does weird things to you. My voice had been reedy for so long. I wasn't expecting the deep, outdoor voice that came booming out of my chest. It shut Marianne up and brought her attention over to me. The others were bristling too. Emily's head was pivoting, looking around a table full of young men suddenly in War Mode.

Our section of the restaurant got very quiet.

"Don't call her that," I said. "Or anything else."

Again, I had no idea where that Charlton Heston voice came from.

Marianne shifted back to Mark. "Oh, I get the picture. You needed a girl who doesn't challenge you intellectually. My God, you are beneath contempt."

I spoke again, this time lowering my voice. Our waitress was watching and the manager was sticking his head through the kitchen transom. "Marianne. Emily is my girlfriend. Watch what you say to her."

"You shut up," she said furiously. "This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me when you insult my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" she said, her voice rising in shrillness. "Really? Is that what they call bagging a girl from Special Ed these days? You're pathetic. You're all pathetic. A pathetic bunch of ugly losers."

I was drawing breath for another booming comeback when Emily silenced me with a hand on my arm.

"Marianne," she said gently, "we're having a nice meal here. You're embarrassing yourself."

For some reason, that punctured her. The wind went right out of her sails.

Without another word she spun on her heel and did another quick-march straight out of the Denny's. Her two friends, who were already seated, traded startled glances and ran after her. One of them called out plaintively, "But I was hungry..."

There was a somewhat stunned silence.

"Wow," Emily said, eventually. We all nodded.

Frank looked at Mark. "Would I be correct in assuming that relationship is now over for good?"

Mark nodded and sighed. "Sorry about that, guys. Emily."

"I don't get it," Emily said.

"What, babe?" I asked.

"Why would she call you ugly?" Emily looked around the table. "I mean, none of you are."

Frank shrugged. "We all had pretty bad acne until...recently. She's used to seeing us a certain way."

Donnie looked at Mark. "What did you ever see in her, anyway?"

Mark sagged back in his seat. "Well, she's smart. I mean, smart as a whip. She's not afraid to trade fire with me. She's funny and sharp and sometimes...she can even be kinda sweet. When my humor gets dark or close to the edge, she's okay with it. She encourages it. Her humor is the same."

He sighed. "But then, I don't know, we reach some point where she just clams up inside. It's like...she's afraid of me getting any closer. And she pushes me away with some really inventive put-downs."

Emily looked around at us. "You all got angry when she insulted me...but not when she called you losers."

"Pretty sure you were included in that," said Donnie. "You're a loser too."

Emily laughed, and so did we.

"Seriously though," she said. "You didn't even react when she called you some horrible names."

"We've been called worse," said Jack with a shrug.

"So have I," said Emily. "But never 'retard' though. Usually it's the opposite. Egghead, four-eyes, brainiac..."

"I knew it," said Jack, slapping the table. "You're a nerd too."

Emily smiled. It was a slow, thoughtful smile that told me she'd made a significant decision. She cleared her throat.

"It's not true, you know."

"Sorry, what?" asked Frank.

"You're not losers. None of you are. You're all smart and funny and...weirdly fascinating. I'm glad I got to meet you all." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And...you know. All the fellatio."

My friends all grinned and blushed at that.

"Bobby tells me there's an AV Club meeting this Sunday?"

"Y-yup," said Jack.

"If it's okay, I'd like to attend. And...participate." Her cheeks colored a little but her smile remained steady.

"Puh-participate?" Jack stuttered. Emily nodded.

"Bobby told me about the Treatment," she said. Her voice dipped a little. "I'm really looking forward to experiencing it."

There was a somewhat strangled pause.

"Any opposed?" croaked Jack.

Absolute silence followed that.

"Passed," he gasped. I expected him to grab for his inhaler, but instead he drew a deep, happy breath.

~~~

We had just settled the check and were gathering up our things when Emily excused herself to go to the ladies' room.

"We gotta leave, Emily," said Mark with deep regret. "Jack's gotta get back to the Admiral. Can't wait around."

Jack nodded. "Vernon only let me go if I promised I'd come back and help him clean up after the late show."

"Okay," my girlfriend said. "I'll say my goodbyes now."

She began hugging and kissing my friends goodbye. The kisses were quick but very tonguey. "Good night, you sweet, sweet boys."

We both waved goodbye as they filed out. "I'll bring the car around," I told Emily. She nodded and scurried off to the restrooms.

I parked the car at the front door and waited. I didn't feel like sitting there so I got out and strolled a bit down the bushes hugging the side of the restaurant. I lost myself stargazing for a moment. I spotted Canis Major and took a deep, happy breath of my own.

I couldn't believe how good I felt. I had met (and fucked) both Dickgirl Dee-Dee and the Topeka redhead that night. And not only that, all my friends were there to share in it, as well as the girl I loved.

"Oh, I can't believe you, Marianne!"

It was Emily's voice, coming from behind the building.

"Pulling me out of a Ladies room? What is the matter with you?"

"Did you put him up to it? Did you, you tramp?"