The A.V. Club - Ch. 17

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Seventeen: Emily's Trip

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.

~~~

Thursday at noon was more of that same wonderful hanky-panky. Marianne could finally have worry-free intercourse with a sexually compatible boy. She went wild. She rode me hard for half the session and wanted me to ride her just as hard for the remainder. She was rougher, nastier, and more of a biter than any girl I'd laid. I found her delightful. Emily was also very pleased, even if she didn't get to participate as much as usual.

I drifted through my afternoon classes in a noticeably languorous fashion.

In AP Biology, Mark leaned over and whispered, "Jesus, Halverson, what happened? Did you just get laid or what?"

"Tell you later," I said, grinning.

Others were noticing the difference in us as well. That day, for the first time, I saw girls ogling my friends.

On our way out of AP Bio, Frank stopped to bend over a drinking fountain. Heidi Miller had come out behind him and ahead of me. I caught her doing an actual double take.

She stared: first at his hands, and then over the arch of his back down to his butt. Her mouth was open and I half expected to see her tongue loll out. She reminded me of an audience member at a sausage joint.

At first, I wondered what the hell was wrong with her. Then it hit me--she was really seeing him for the first time. His newfound potency was registering with her. When she looked at him now, she saw the actual him, instead of her old impression of him.

I was impressed. I never thought of Heidi as the kind of girl who could see past her own conditioning.

It made sense, though. All that dickgirl cum Frank had been gobbling had given him a clear complexion and a lush, healthy head of almond-brown hair. He'd grown taller, so like Marianne, he was overall more proportionate. His blocky head had become a chiseled, iron-jawed visage. His big hands and feet, which were so ungainly when he was younger, now fit him perfectly. They gave an impression of masculine power. He had muscular arms well-displayed by his short-sleeve button-down and a stack of books by his size-twelve loafers with a folded-up chess set sticking out of his knapsack. Brains and brawn. Heidi looked dazed and a little flustered behind her thick-framed glasses.

I hid a smile, turned a corner and saw Linda Carruthers talking with Donnie. They were both leaning against the lockers. Donnie was talking earnestly about something and Linda was...all ears.

She's got a crush on him, I thought at once. How does he not see that?

Donnie had grown into his looks as well. His long face and sharp features were now more reminiscent of a young Al Pacino than a marsh-wiggle. He was sinewy, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped. These days he favored dark polo shirts, the most casual boys' tops allowed by the school dress code, and tight slacks. He bulged in his clothes almost as much as Marianne in her old nightgown. He wore his hair slicked back almost like one of the greaser kids in vocational tech. Linda was leaning in towards him, clearly hanging on his every word. Her lovely blue eyes were wide and bright. I could see her nostrils flaring and her throat working as she gulped.

Wow. She looks ready to give him head right here in the corridor.

It took no more than two seconds for me to register all that. I shrugged inside and made my way to AP Calculus.

~~~

Later that evening, as my Fotomat shift was ending, I was surprised when Gladys Nessman drove into the parking lot. I'd half expected her to not show up at all. I locked up the place and went over to her. She watched me approaching. The look of happiness on her face touched my heart.

She's been looking forward to this all week. The notion came to me out of nowhere, but I didn't doubt it.

We drove to the Montgomery Pond overlook. Once again, thankfully, it was deserted. Once again, she started out shy, but as soon as we began making out, she ignited. Her passion blazed up even quicker than before and burned super-hot.

This time, as she was sucking my cock, I found myself coaching her along a little more. I guess I'd been spoiled by all the great head I'd received that week. She was obliging and eager to learn.

"Good!" I gasped as I filled her mouth with another splendid ejaculation. "Oh, that's good, Gladys."

She groaned in ecstasy and swallowed like the wonderful old slut she was.

She was even more passionate when I slid my dick into her. She caught my rhythm immediately and raked my back as she came. Afterwards, her kisses were soulful and endearing. She abandoned herself to a much greater degree than before.

She was quieter on our way back to the Fotomat hut. Then, out of the blue, she mentioned, "I'm sorry if I'm not as good at it as the girls you've dated. The fellatio, I mean."

She was the first person other than Frank or Emily I'd ever heard use the word 'fellatio' in a spoken sentence.

"What are you talking about? You did fine."

"The women of my generation...we just didn't do that. It's not something we grew up with, not like these young girls today. I know they're all better at it than I am..."

"Hey," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. "I came, didn't I?"

She laughed. "Yes."

That was an understatement. I'd come three times in her mouth and a few more in her vagina. She herself had come more times than I'd bothered to count. It left her mellow and thoughtful behind the wheel.

"Then you did great. Period."

"Okay," she said, and gave me a smile.

This is so weird, I thought. I think I might be starting to love Gladys Nessman a little. It wasn't the same as my feelings for Emily, but more like the affectionate sexual bond I shared with Marianne.

As I studied Gladys's fine profile, I had the whimsical thought: I wonder if I'll have to go on a practice date with her, too.

~~~

"Marianne," asked Emily, "have boys started asking you out again?"

We were driving back from our Friday lunch session. I was feeling a little woozy from all the sex and vitamin J. Marianne, lolling in the back seat, looked pretty woozy herself. She'd become quite the wildcat.

"Well," she drawled, "they've been noticing me more. But no one's asked yet."

"Excellent. That's our next step. You need to start dating."

"What?"

"I want you to go out with the next boy who asks. Be agreeable on the date, like you were with Bobby. Give him the best head you can. I want you to get a reputation."

"As a slut? No thank you."

"Not a slut. No intercourse, just oral. The same thing every other girl does on a date. No more, no less. I want word to get around that you're good at it."

"Good?" She sounded affronted. "I'm great at it."

I spoke up. "I can vouch for that."

"Thank you, Bobby." Marianne sounded pleased. "Where on Earth are you going with this, Emily?"

"I want Mark to hear about it. That's how we reel him in."

Marianne paused. I could almost hear the clockworks whirling in her mind.

"If I'm dating some other boy, how's that going to work?"

"I'm not talking about going steady," said Emily. "Just one date per boy. When they ask you out a second time, refuse. Just say it wasn't what you expected."

"So I go out with a bunch of random guys..."

"Not random," said Emily firmly. "No jocks. No one who's ever beat up Mark or his friends. I don't think he'd forgive that."

"That doesn't leave a big dating pool."

"Just use your best judgment."

Marianne blew out a breath.

"Fine," she said with a long-suffering sigh. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Emily, I have to say...hanging around with you and Bobby has been a real trip."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

~~~

My Saturday shift at Fotomat was busy. It was supposed to end at two PM, when my boss would come around to collect the all the morning rolls for developing and Dwight Gillespie, the two-to-closing guy, would arrive.

My boss showed up at one-forty instead. She was a plump, no-nonsense woman in her forties named Norah Withers. She was a brusque and tight-lipped woman, but strangely today she wanted to talk. She came into the hut and put her back to the door with her arms folded while I faced her on the stool. Her mood was very serious.

"Bobby," Norah said, "I just want to say...I know adolescence probably hasn't been a cakewalk for you. That's why I was happy when you started finally filling out this spring. This last month...you've really come into yourself."

To my startlement, I caught a flash of something that might have been admiration or attraction. It quickly faded into her overall grim resolution. I was mystified as to where this was going.

She sighed. "But then, Oscar, the Sears night security guy, tells me he saw you let some chippie in the Hut a week last Thursday."

I felt like I'd just taken a dodgeball to the head.

"They have...a night watchman?" I croaked. Inside, I was thinking, Oh...shit.

Norah nodded. "Usually he sleeps through his shift, but I slip him an extra five bucks a week to keep an eye on the Hut 'til it closes."

I thought of Emily. And Connie and Ruby. And Gladys. And all the other nights I'd brought a sausage mag for a leisurely on-the-job wank. I never once thought there was anyone around to see me after hours.

"According to Oscar, not only did you get up to all kinds of monkey business in the Hut with this blonde girl, you also drove off with a customer at closing time, an older lady. He said you chatted her up earlier. While the chippie was still in the Hut with you, hiding." She whistled in both amazement and disgust. "Remarkable for kid your age."

"I--"

"Shh." She held up a finger. "Now, I wasn't inclined to believe a story like that, at least, not from Oscar. He's harmless, but he does start hitting the bottle around dinnertime. Also, I always thought you were a good kid. So I couldn't believe you'd do something like that."

Oh shit I'm getting fired.

My brain belatedly put it together. That's what that look in Norah's eyes meant. That's what this long preamble was about. Norah was about to can me.

It was surprisingly upsetting. I always knew this job wasn't forever, but I still liked it and would have preferred to leave it on my terms.

My brain began working at light-speed. I came up with a slew of denials, but then vetoed them all. I figured I was already screwed. There was no point in trying to weasel out of it.

I decided to get through this with as much dignity as I could.

She sighed. "So, I came out this Tuesday to see for myself."

Oh shit. My mind blanked. Tuesday? When Ruby and Connie showed up?

Where was she watching from? Where was Oscar watching from? I never saw anyone...

Her voice rose in anger. "And what do I see but you, bailing on work early to go carouse with a couple of hookers."

"They weren't hookers," I said quickly. "They were just...some very nice ladies. I didn't pay them."

"Oh, well that makes everything all better, doesn't it?"

I winced. "Okay, okay, Norah, I'm sorry. I know I messed up."

"Okay, Norah?" Her voice got louder in a dangerous way. "Half a dozen customers showed up while you were...amusing yourself in there."

I winced again. Oh, double shit. I began feeling genuinely guilty.

She drew a breath and then really started to unload: "I swear, I do not know what is wrong with your generation. You seem to have lost all morals and scruples and...damn common sense!"

I'd heard different versions of this grown-up tirade my whole life, always directed at some other kid. It was the first time I ever earned it. I was surprised how much it hurt. I'd always liked Norah and it was awful for her to be so angry at me.

"I'm sorry," I said. To my horror, I found myself getting choked up. I'd never been fired before, and I wasn't ready for the sudden shame and bad feelings it evoked.

"I'm sorry too," she said. "You were a good kid, but no sooner did your pimples go away than you become some...damned irresponsible skirt-chaser."

She took a breath. "I am so fucking disappointed in you."

That shook me. Ordinarily, Norah Withers was the kind of adult who never swore around kids.

"You're fired," she said. "I think you know this, but let's make it official. You're fired. This was your last shift." She threw an envelope onto the counter. "That's your pay for this week. Clear out your crap and get out of here."

"Okay," I said stupidly.

I grabbed my knapsack and looked around for my stuff. I really had to fight the tears back, hard. This place had been my summer job Freshman year, and I'd worked there, year-round, ever since. I had surprisingly few knick-knacks lying about. It took no time to collect them, which was kind of depressing.

"Norah..." I swallowed. "Can I say something?"

She rolled her eyes. "Go ahead."

"I know I'm fired," I said. "I know I'm done here. I wouldn't try to talk my way out of that, I know I can't."

I took a breath. "I just want you to know that...I'm not a skirt-chaser. I'm not a bad kid. Everything that's happened...it all just kind of dropped into my lap by accident."

That was putting it mildly. My newly-minted sex life had jumped off into the deepest of deep ends. Just when it looked like it might be handjobs with the fellas until grad school, bang. Orgies! Dickgirls! Love and commitment!

Norah's eyebrow went up. "And the hussies last Tuesday?"

"Norah...up until this year, girls ignored me. And then...suddenly, they're not ignoring me. They're throwing themselves at me. I mean...how do you deal with that?"

I knew what Emily would tell me to do. Enjoy it, you deserve it. Which as a philosophy was fine until it got you fired.

Norah stared at me. "Jesus wept, Bobby, are you trying to justify yourself, here?"

I sighed. "No. I guess I'm trying to say...you're right. It isn't like me. But neither is all these girls being interested in me. I'm sorry I got a little crazy."

"A little crazy?"

"Okay, very crazy. And irresponsible. I'm sorry."

Norah let out a snort at that. "Look. I let you finish out the week because I like you, and I didn't want to send you on your way without a full paycheck. But that is as far as my goodwill goes."

Her voice softened a little. "You were acting wild, Bobby. You can't do that. I'm sorry I had to be the one to teach it to you, but better me than someone else. Someone else mighta put the cops on you."

She swallowed, drily. She wasn't as unconflicted about this as she was trying to portray. Part of her didn't want to fire me.

I had a sudden insight. Norah had seen me going into Connie and Ruby's campervan. That meant she had seen my dick. She'd seen it hard, and the girls playing with it.

Sheesh. No wonder she's so wound up. Must have been a surprise to see what the Scarecrow was packing.

Then another thought popped in there: Did it arouse her?

I kinda thought it did.

I had another thought. Maybe I could turn on the charm with her. All I had to do was start thinking about dickgirls. I could change her mind about firing me, maybe even...

"I'll see you around Norah," I said. I slung my knapsack across my back. "I'm sorry about everything."

"I'll see you around too, Bobby." I could hear the emotion in her voice. "Good luck with college."

"Thanks," I said, and left the Point Pleasant Fotomat Hut forever.

I blamed it on my upbringing. I didn't have it in me to try to wrangle out of a firing that I honestly deserved.

~~~

Driving home from my final shift, the song Get a Job by the Silhouettes came on the radio. I was not amused by the timing.

Sha na'na na, sha na'na na'na na...

"I'll figure out something," I said aloud. I wished I could've said it with more conviction.

When I got home, I thought about calling Emily or maybe one of my AVC friends. The thought of a sympathetic voice was strongly appealing. I decided against it. I felt ashamed and I didn't want anyone to know yet.

~~~

Sunday morning dawned on a warm, sunny day. I was still down in the dumps.

That lasted exactly until Emily climbed in the passenger side of the bananamobile a block from her house. The smell of her, the presence of her, automatically lifted my spirits. She leaned over and kissed me and I felt about eighty percent better.

"What's wrong?" she asked me.

I sighed. There was no point in trying to keep secrets from her. "I got fired yesterday."

"What? How?"

As I drove us to Jack's place, I told her about Ruby and Connie, and how it got back to my boss.

"Oh, sweetheart." She shifted over to me and laid her head on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You'll get another job."

She paused. "Now I feel guilty about spending so much of your money with Marianne."

"Oh, don't worry about it." I paused. "How much did you spend?"

"Give or take, maybe...six hundred dollars?"

Oh, perfect. I sighed. "It's okay."

I was gripping the steering wheel pretty tight. I looked at my whitened knuckles and realized: I was strong.

One of the things I'd always liked about my job at Fotomat was that it was an indoor, sit-down gig. The work wasn't onerous, and I could study while on shift. I'd always shied away from jobs involving heavy lifting or working outdoors. I'd always thought of myself as fragile, like Jack.

That was no longer the case. I, like my friends, had become fitter. I could dig ditches, work construction, do whatever guys did in manual labor jobs. There was a whole host of higher-paying work I could excel at, now.

I realized: I would get another job. I didn't have to worry. In fact, I could afford to start not giving a fuck again.

I blew out a breath.

"Better?" asked Emily.

"Better," I said.

"Good," she said, and kissed my cheek.

My heart filled with love for her. I kissed her forehead. I drove us to the AV Club meeting with a much easier mind.

~~~

That Sunday meet-up was another momentous one, but for entirely different reasons.

Because of the nice weather, Emily wanted to perform the opening observances outdoors, on Jack's sprawling, cornfield-adjacent back yard. She was wearing a sunflower-yellow halter dress. It had a modest hem and neckline, but the bodice hugged Emily's small waist. Her bust made a big ledge.

She scampered onto the grass and faced us with a grin. She reached behind herself to unzip.

All the other guys gasped. She was wearing her new lingerie underneath. Once again, she had dispensed with the panties. The sight of those filmy pink stockings disappearing into her sensible-for-tromping-about tennis shoes was utterly adorable.

"It's so...pink," breathed Jack.

She undid her bra. It was practically see-through, but even so, when she removed it, my friends all gasped at the reveal of her big breasts with their fat nipples.