Men, Women & Children (11 page)

Don watched his wife’s buttocks move as she had sex with him. He hadn’t seen them from this position in almost a year, and he was saddened by what he saw. His wife’s body was never perfect, but it had been, at one time, beautiful to him. Her buttocks were his favorite part. They weren’t muscular or amazingly shaped, but they were exactly what he liked in that part of a woman’s body, slightly flabby without being dimpled with cellulite, and easy to grab hold of while in certain sexual positions. All of that was gone. All Don could see was cellulite and an absence of form. He was almost too repulsed by the sight to conclude the act, but he was uncertain about when his next sexual encounter might occur, so he forced himself to continue. He fantasized about Stoya and tried to ejaculate as soon as possible, in order to end what he felt was a perversion of the sexual memories he had of his wife. While he was thinking about his penis entering Stoya’s anus, and the look of excitement and happiness on her face as he did this, Don was able to ejaculate after only a minute and forty seven seconds of being inside his wife. Both he and Rachel were relieved upon the conclusion of their sexual act.

C
hris sat at his computer desk while Hannah sat on his bed. He offered to transcribe the interview with his parents, based on the fact that he perceived himself to be the faster typist. The transcription took around forty-five minutes. After finishing, Chris turned to Hannah and said, “So should we work on how we’re going to present this, or . . . ?” Tired of wondering if Chris was ever going to make an advance, Hannah said, “Or . . . we could do something else.”

Chris, still believing that Hannah had lost interest after their initial kiss and flurry of sexually explicit text messages, said, “Like what?”

Hannah rolled her eyes and said, “Come here.”

Chris left his computer chair and sat beside her on the bed. She kissed him, this time for much longer than their first kiss after the football game. Chris was more than happy that the second kiss of his life seemed to be better than the first. He could feel an erection developing as he grabbed the back of Hannah’s hair and pulled her head back hard. He had seen this maneuver employed in virtually limitless numbers of pornographic videos and the women always seemed to respond well to it. Hannah’s reaction was to say, “Ow, what are you doing?”

Chris said, “I don’t know. Sorry.”

Hannah said, “It’s cool. Just like you don’t have to be so . . . you know?”

Chris said, “Yeah, sorry.”

She took the hand that Chris had used to pull her hair and put it on one of her breasts, then said, “Here.”

It was the first breast Chris had ever felt. He had seen countless breasts in the various videos he watched, of all shapes, sizes, and colors. He was surprised at how soft Hannah’s were. He was under the impression that breasts would be harder, like a flexed muscle. Hannah said, “You want to feel them under my shirt?”

Chris said, “Yeah,” and put his hand under her shirt and then wedged his fingers under her bra until he flipped the cup up over her breast, exposing her nipple to his fingertips. His erection was full now as he felt Hannah’s naked breast in his hand. She said, “Do you like it?”

Chris said, “Yeah.”

Hannah said, “Have you ever had a blowjob?”

Chris said, “Uh . . .”

Hannah said, “It’s cool if you haven’t. I’m not expecting you to be, like, all experienced or anything.”

Chris said, “Then no.”

Hannah said, “Lay back.”

Chris lay back on his bed as Hannah unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down around his knees, followed by his underwear. She remembered the only other time she had performed oral sex as being a rather quick process that ended with an unexpected ejaculation in her face. Wanting to avoid a similar scenario, she said, “When you’re about to come, just tell me.”

Chris said, “Okay.”

Hannah licked the underside of Chris’s penis and noticed that it wasn’t quite as hard as it had been when she felt it prodding her through his pants. With each passing second, Chris’s penis became more and more flaccid. Hannah said, “Am I doing something wrong?”

Chris said, “No. Just keep going.” Chris was embarrassed and unsure of why he was unable to maintain an erection. His mind could only conjure images of a pornographic video he had seen called
Cockgobblers 4: Facefuck Mountain
. The women in this video allowed the men to thrust their penises so far into their mouths that they frequently caused gagging, tears, and, on occasion, vomiting. This is what Chris wanted. This is what he thought of when he thought of oral sex.

Hannah said, “This isn’t working. Do you want to try like squeezing my boob or something?”

Chris said, “No, sit up against my wall,” as he positioned her on his bed, sitting with her back flush against his bedroom wall. He took off his pants and then said, “Now open your mouth.” Hannah did as she was instructed, and then Chris put his limp penis between her lips and began thrusting in and out of her mouth. After several seconds he began to achieve another erection.

As Chris continued to thrust in and out of her mouth, he closed his eyes and conjured images from
Cockgobblers 4: Facefuck Mountain
, specifically the image of a girl with red ponytails crying as two men, each holding one of her ponytails, using them as handles for her head, forced their penises into her mouth at the same time.

Hannah didn’t know how to react to the situation. She had been the initiator and the one to control the situation the first time she had performed oral sex. In this instance she felt as though she wasn’t even there. She felt as though Chris could have been inserting his penis into any inanimate object and there would have been little difference. This feeling wasn’t pleasant for Hannah, but she endured it because her end goal was to have sex with Chris—not specifically with Chris, but he was the best candidate for it, especially at this point. Hannah was determined to lose her virginity as soon as possible and to potentially have intercourse a few more times before the end of eighth grade. She thought there might still be a chance to lose her virginity that night.

She reached up, pushed Chris’s hips back far enough to force him to stop what he was doing, and said, “Do you want to fuck me?” Chris did want to have sex with Hannah, but he was unsure if he could maintain an erection at that moment without reenacting something at least vaguely similar to a scene from
Cockgobblers 4: Facefuck Mountain
that contained nothing but aggressive and, in some cases, abusive oral sex. Chris said, “No, I just want to do this.” Hannah acquiesced and allowed him to insert his penis back into her mouth and continue to thrust.

She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed. She looked around his room, noticing small details she hadn’t seen before as Chris used her mouth, adding a bit more force as their encounter continued. He had a small stack of CDs on his desk. She wondered why he had CDs, where he bought them. She assumed they were gifts from someone. She wondered who. She saw that he had an Einstein mouse pad and wondered if that too was a gift, or if Chris idolized Einstein in some way. She didn’t figure him to be the type who would.

Chris thrust into her mouth as hard as he could three more times, bringing Hannah to the verge of gagging, until he began to ejaculate. He then pulled his penis out of Hannah’s mouth, giving her the opportunity to cough and choke as he ejaculated on her face and in her hair.

Chris put his underwear and jeans back on and then offered Hannah a box of Kleenex. She said, “Thanks.” Chris said, “No prob. Do you want me to like, you know, go down on you or something? I mean, I could probably do it. I think I know how, kind of.” Hannah had never had a boy perform oral sex on her, but was slightly too traumatized by the sexual encounter she’d just experienced to consider anything further. She said, “You can next time. I should probably be getting home,” as she wiped the semen and tears from her face.

Chris said, “Oh. Okay. I’m just saying, I mean, I’ve never done it before, but I’m not opposed to it or anything. I really wouldn’t mind.”

Hannah said, “Yeah, it’s cool. Next time. Can I use your bathroom, maybe?”

Chris said, “Sure, it’s just right around the corner. I’m pretty sure my parents are in their room, so you should be good.”

Hannah went to the bathroom. As she cleaned his semen out of her hair, she thought about what sex would be like with Chris, what it would be like to lose her virginity to him, if this first encounter was any indication. Even if it was, she didn’t really care. She needed to lose her virginity this year, and she felt like she was close to being able to do it with Chris. She finished her clean up and went back into Chris’s room.

Chris said, “Do you need my dad to give you a ride home or anything? I can get him.”

Hannah said, “No, I just have to call my mom. She’ll pick me up.”

Chris said, “Okay, cool.”

Hannah called her mother and then sat on Chris’s bed with him for another fifteen minutes before her mother arrived. They talked about their school project for the entirety of the fifteen minutes, choosing to evade any possible conversation about what had just happened between them.

Once in her mother’s car, Hannah received a text message from Chris that read, “I luvd ramming my cock down ur throat.” Hannah replied to Chris’s text message with one that read, “It made my pussy so wet—next time I want u 2 fuck me.” Chris replied with a text message that read, “Send me a pic of ur pussy.” Hannah replied with a text message that read, “Not til u fuck it.”

Chris turned on his computer and attempted to masturbate while watching pornography depicting regular vaginal entry sex between one man and one woman. He was unable to maintain an erection through the process and ultimately was only able to ejaculate while watching a video of a bound woman having live eels inserted into her vagina and anus.

When Hannah got home, her mother said, “So how was the project with Chris?” putting an emphasis on Chris’s name that denoted romantic interest on her daughter’s part. Hannah said, “It was fine.”

Dawn said, “Just fine? Did you guys, like, totally make out?”

Hannah thought about telling her mother everything that happened but instead said, “No, we didn’t, like, totally make out. We just worked on the project.”

Before she went to sleep, Hannah turned on her computer to see if there were any new subscribers to the members-only section of her website. There were none.

chapter

ten

P
atricia Beltmeyer had only hosted three meetings of her Internet watch-group, Parents Against The Internet. Each of these meetings generated what Patricia considered moderate interest, attracting anywhere from three to six parents of her daughter’s classmates. After increasing her group’s visibility by introducing an e-mail list as well as through fliers she left in Principal Ligorski’s office each week before her meetings, Patricia hoped that the fourth meeting of PATI would yield a higher number of attendees. In anticipation of a more robust turnout, Patricia ordered two large cheese pizzas from Papa John’s and asked Allison Doss’s mother, Liz, if she could bring over a few pies from Marie Callender’s, where she worked. Liz had attended two of the last three meetings. She had only a general interest in policing her children’s use of the Internet, but found the group to be a welcome opportunity for social interaction outside of her family and coworkers.

Liz was the first attendee to arrive. She brought with her two pies, a lemon meringue and a blueberry. As she handed the pies to Patricia she said, “So does it look like there might be a few more people tonight?”

Patricia said, “I can’t be sure, but I think so. Did you get a chance to do any of that stuff we talked about last week—adult passwords for your family computer or anything?”

Patricia had a list of computer and cell-phone protocols that she recommended all parents follow in their own homes, and with their own children, in order to ensure what she called an Internet-safe environment. Liz had implemented exactly none of these protocols. She had little knowledge of computers or technology in general, and despite Patricia’s tutoring in these meetings, Liz retained too little of it to be able to apply it when she returned home. Beyond that, she had almost no concern that her daughter, Allison, or her son, Myron, were being exposed to any of the risks Patricia seemed to be concerned about when they used the Internet. Liz viewed these meetings as nothing more than a chance to get out of the house and talk to people who were not a part of her immediate family.

Liz said, “It’s going pretty good. Seems like my kids are safe.”

Patricia said, “And what about your husband?”

Liz said, “What about him?”

Patricia said, “It’s not just your kids who are at risk when they use the Internet or cell phones or video games. Your husband is at risk, and so are you, Liz.”

Liz couldn’t imagine how she would ever be at risk as far as her use of any of the things Patricia mentioned was concerned. She said, “Oh, well, I’ll keep that in mind next time I check my e-mail. How do you keep your family safe?”

Patricia said, “Well, my husband doesn’t use the Internet, really. He’s kind of old-fashioned that way, I guess, and, you know, I make my daughter give me all of her passwords, and I monitor every text message and e-mail she gets.”

Liz said, “Are they here tonight?”

Patricia said, “Ray’s playing poker with some friends, and Brandy’s up in her room. I tried to get her to help me tonight, you know, to show everyone that you can still be a cool parent to your kids and keep them safe from the Internet at the same time, but she has a lot of homework to do, so she’ll probably be in her room all night.”

Patricia’s excitement to hear a knock at her door was quelled when she opened it to find the Papa John’s delivery man. Patricia paid for the pizzas and Liz helped her set them out on the kitchen table along with the pies and two two-liter bottles of Diet Coke. As they finished preparing the refreshments, the next actual guest arrived.

Kent Mooney had no idea what to expect when he’d decided to attend this meeting, but he thought it might give him some insight into why his son, Tim, wanted to play online video games instead of football. With his wife gone for more than four months at that point, he had also begun to think about dating again. He knew he wasn’t fully ready to do it. When he and his wife, Lydia, had been separated, but still lived in the same town, he never saw a need to consider other women. Now that she’d been living in another state for four months, he began to realize that at some point he would need to put himself back out in the world and interact with women again. He thought that this PATI meeting might be a decent place for him to practice, to at least talk to a woman in a social setting.

After Kent introduced himself, Patricia said, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for coming, and we’ll make you feel just as welcome as we can for your first meeting. There’s some pizza and pie in the kitchen. Help yourself, and we’ll start just as soon as a few more people get here. Should be in the next ten minutes or so.”

Kent went to the kitchen and immediately questioned his decision to attend his first PATI meeting. He wondered if he would actually gain any knowledge about his son, anything that could help him get Tim to play football again. He felt certain, after meeting Patricia and Liz, that this meeting would not yield any valuable interactions with the opposite sex. He began to convince himself that he should leave, faking an urgent phone call or something similar. He concocted a plan to walk back into the living room, start a conversation with Patricia about online video games, pretend that his phone was vibrating, answer it, act surprised and concerned, and then say, “Okay, I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” flipping his phone shut and apologizing profusely for having to leave while explaining that an emergency at home was forcing him to go before the meeting started.

As Kent came into the living room, Patricia was answering the door, and as she opened it, Kent saw Dawn Clint for the first time and decided that maybe he should stay at the meeting after all.

Although Dawn considered herself Internet-savvy, especially since she’d started running her daughter’s website, she had become increasingly concerned about one of the members on that website who had begun to request photos of her daughter that were of an increasingly pornographic nature. She was worried that, by even reading the e-mails, she might be creating some grounds to implicate herself in some kind of Internet or child-endangerment crime, even though she made very sure that the images of her daughter on the website were not even remotely pornographic and were only slightly lewd, which, she rationalized, was subjective anyway. Dawn realized that she could just have looked up the specific laws she was concerned about on the Internet, but she felt, no matter how irrational she knew her feelings to be, that a Google search of these laws might alert the authorities to her activities. She wanted no record on her computer that might indicate she knew she was doing anything wrong, just in case it could ever be used against her. Instead, she thought she might be able to bring up certain issues in the meeting that might illuminate her on the specific laws that she felt she was coming increasingly close to breaking. She hoped that Patricia would know something about all of this, and although she thought the watch-group itself, and the meetings it held, were ridiculous, she hoped they might help her this one time.

Dawn came in and introduced herself to Liz and Kent. Kent immediately noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and thought about slipping away to the bathroom to remove his, but it was too late. He saw Dawn look down at his hand at the same time he looked at hers. He made a mental note to take the ring off after the meeting.

Although Kent held on to a small sliver of hope that somehow he and his wife would work things out, he knew that she was in California with Greg Cherry, having sex with Greg Cherry. At the beginning of their separation, he was too emotionally distraught to think about having sex with anyone other than his wife, and he remained so for many months after she had moved out of their home. But since she moved to California, his libido had picked up. In the past month or so, he had promised himself that, even if he and his wife were to work out their differences and end up together, he would not squander this opportunity to have sex with someone who was not his wife—perhaps even more than one woman if he could. He had begun to see his wife’s decision to leave him for another man as an insult, and where he once felt only emotional pain, he was now beginning to feel anger, and with that anger he was beginning to subscribe more and more to an eye-for-an-eye philosophy. He wasn’t sure yet how he would let his wife know that he was having sex with another woman—how he would get the information to his wife that he was no longer a broken man without her, but instead a man who was desirable to other women and capable of having sex with them—but he knew that once she was aware of the fact, she would more than likely regret giving up what they had together for the company of Greg Cherry.

Dawn Clint was the first woman Kent had seen since his separation who made him think about sex again in a carnal and pornographic way. As their hands touched in a brief handshake, Kent imagined what her breasts looked like, what her nipples were like, if she liked to have them sucked during the sexual act, if she had ever engaged in anal sex or had any kind of sexual interaction with a woman. These thoughts seemed almost foreign to him, because he hadn’t had them in so long, but they were welcome.

Dawn found Kent attractive and wondered who his wife was, if she had met her through her dealings with the Goodrich booster club or other various school functions. She said, “So, does your kid play football or. . . . Just trying to figure out if I’ve met your wife or anything. My daughter’s an Olympianne.”

Kent said, “No. You haven’t met her, I’d guess. The short version of the story is, my kid doesn’t play football this year. He did last year, but he decided not to this year. Plays a lot of video games instead now. That’s why I’m here, I guess. And my wife is in California.”

Dawn said, “Oh, business trip or something?”

Kent said, “No, more like she’s living with another guy.”

Dawn said, “Oh, oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I saw the ring and just . . . I’m sorry.”

Kent said, “It’s okay. I probably should have said ex-wife. The divorce is still a little fresh, I guess.” Not wanting to give the impression that he still had any feelings for his ex-wife, Kent added, “But we’ve been separated for a long time, so . . .”

They continued to talk for a few more minutes, Kent shifting the conversation to more innocuous topics like movies and television shows. When he asked what she did for a living, Dawn just said that she worked for an Internet startup company as a webmaster. Kent found himself more interested in the specifics of her job than he would have thought, but his lack of skill in talking to women stopped him from probing the matter further. His lack of interest in his own job, accompanied by that same lack of skill in talking to women, led him to answer the same question, when it was posed to him, with, “I work in sales for a shipping company. Nothing exciting.” Despite Kent’s missteps in the conversation, they got along well; they shared an easily recognizable attraction, made stronger by the fact that they were each aware of the other’s mutual availability.

Dawn had been involved with only a small number of men in the thirteen years since moving in with her mother after her life in California. She had considered only one of them a boyfriend, and she knew from the beginning of that relationship that it would never result in marriage, based on her inability to ignore certain of the man’s habits that she found unbearably disgusting, including his habitual use of chewing tobacco. Something about Kent made her irrationally hopeful. She was hesitant to let herself think that anything would come of their meeting, especially given the fact that Kent’s marriage was only recently legally concluded. Nonetheless, she found herself flirting with Kent uncontrollably and hoping that he would ask for her phone number before the end of the meeting.

Eventually, five more parents of Goodrich Junior High School students arrived, and Patricia decided to start the meeting after each of them had had a chance to eat some pizza or pie. She gathered everyone in her living room and said, “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. And I’d like to start by letting you all know that you should be proud, because this is the biggest turnout Parents Against The Internet has ever had. So when you go home tonight, feel free to send out e-mails or pass on fliers letting even more people know about our meetings.

“Now, I usually like to start every meeting by opening it up to anyone who might have specific questions, but since we have a few new faces tonight, I thought I’d kick it off by telling you guys a little bit about us, about PATI, and then you can all introduce yourselves.

“I started PATI, which stands for Parents Against The Internet, a while back, after I just read and heard too much about how dangerous the Internet and cell phones and video games and all that stuff can be if you’re not careful—especially for kids who are reaching the age ours are reaching. I basically just want to help as many parents as I can to be informed about what they can do to protect their kids and their families and even themselves from the dangers of the online world, which get worse and worse every day as new technology comes out. I guess that’s about it. So, now, Kent and Dawn, why don’t I turn the floor over to you, so you can tell us a little bit about yourselves and also how you heard about PATI?”

Kent and Dawn exchanged a knowing glance, slightly horrified and slightly amused by what they realized they had stumbled into. Kent said to Dawn with mock chivalry, “Ladies first,” to which she replied with mock flattery, “How gentlemanly of you.” They were clearly bonding to some degree in their mutual assessment of their inaugural PATI meeting as being slightly absurd.