Lights, Camera, Action

Courtney and I have been dating for over five years and things are getting boring. Don’t get me wrong, I love Courtney with all my heart, but lately our sex life has been more predictable than the last two seasons of Game of Thrones. Sometimes we only have sex once a week, sometimes less than that, and we always follow the same routine: we crawl into bed in the evening—usually after watching something on Netflix or HBO—we take our clothes off, and we rub our bodies together until I cum, and then we roll over onto our sides of the bed and fall asleep. I’ve stopped even trying to make her cum. Courtney has made it clear she would prefer to get a full night’s sleep than to have me fumble around down there forever, trying in vain to get her off.

So tonight, when Courtney suggests trying something different, I’m all ears.

“What’d you have in mind, babe?” I say. “You mean, like, toys?”

“No, Riley,” Courtney says, shaking her head. “I can do that fine on my own. I mean something both of us might enjoy.”

I tilt my head. “Role playing?” I ask. I imagine dressing up like Jon Snow, long cloak and black leather vest. Courtney would be a hot Ygritte, all wrapped up in leather and fur. I’m getting turned on just thinking about it, when Courtney shakes her head again.

“No,” she says. “And I know you’re thinking about Game of Thrones, but don’t get any ideas in your head.”

“Well then,” I say. “What are you suggesting?”

“You remember a few years ago?” Courtney says, “That crazy night with our friends Maria and Keynon?”

It was Courtney’s best friend’s birthday night, and the four of us had gone out for drinks at the Ace of Spades bar, before going back to Maria and Keynon’s apartment, getting drunk, and fucking each other on the floor. It was a wild night, and honestly one of the best times Courtney and I’d ever had together. But Maria and Keynon broke up a few months after that, Maria took a job in another city, and that night eventually became, for Courtney and me, something like a wonderful dream we’d once shared together. It had briefly rekindled our sex life, which even then was getting dull, but over time the memory began to fade, the dream retreated into reality, and we slipped back into our old routine.

“Yeah, I remember,” I say to Courtney. “I mean, it was a while ago, but I remember most of it.”

“You remember how much it excited us?” Courtney says. “Not only while it was happening, but afterwards? How we were fucking pretty much all the time?”

“I definitely remember that,” I say. “That’s when we had to buy a new mattress because we’d broken the springs in our old one.”

“Exactly,” Courtney says. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“What exactly?” I say. “Are you going to call Maria? Because doesn’t she live, like, 400 miles away now? And I don’t know what Keynon’s been up to, but it’s been a few years and who knows if—”

“No, babe,” Courtney says. “It doesn’t need to be Maria or Keynon. It doesn’t matter who it is. I mean, of course it matters, but not really. We’d have to decide together, obviously. Anyway, what do you think about inviting someone else over?”

I take a deep breath and nod my head, like I’m thinking it over. I don’t want to seem too enthusiastic, too quick to say yes. It could be a test, after all.

“Is that what you want?” I finally say.

Courtney narrows her eyes at me. “Of course it is, Riley,” she says. “I’m the one who brought it up.”

Courtney and I spend the rest of the evening trying to think of friends who might be down, but most of our friends are married, some even with babies, and those who aren’t married are not exactly threesome material—or even twosome material, to be honest. I suggest hitting up some bars, but Courtney quickly shoots that down, saying she’d feel like I was pimping her out.

Finally Courtney sits up straight on our couch and spreads her hands, as though suddenly receiving divine instruction.

“What the hell?” she says. “We live in the 21st fucking century. Everything we desire is right at our fingertips, at the push of a button.”

“With the download of an app,” I say.

“Exactamundo,” Courtney says. I love it when she speaks Spanish.

Courtney grabs her phone and begins tapping the screen. I haven’t seen her do anything this purposefully, with such steadfast resolution, since applying to grad schools.

“Jesus,” she says. “There are a lot of hookup apps, specifically for threesomes. I mean, how do you even choose? Fuck it, let’s download them all.”

“Hey babe,” I say. “So we haven’t discussed, you know, what, uh, kind of person we’re looking for.”

Courtney turns away from her phone and looks at me. “What kind of person? You mean, like, a Republican or a Democrat? A cab driver or a horticulturalist?”

“No,” I say, scratching my head. “That’s not what I mean.”

Courtney laughs. “Relax, babe. I know what you’re getting at. I want a woman, too. The last thing I need is two guys fumbling around trying to get me off.”

After Courtney installs the app, she types our names and information into our profile, stating who we are and what we’re looking for. We both agree we want someone close to our age—28 to 33—but other than that we’re not particular. Courtney slides over next to me on the couch, holds her phone up for a selfie, and tells me to smile. After taking a dozen or so shots, she looks at her phone and swipes through the photos.

“Jesus,” she says. “We look like a couple of squares. Who’d want to fuck these two nerds?”

“Maybe it’s the angle,” I say.

“It’s not the angle,” Courtney says. “It’s the models. We need a photo that says we are fun, exciting, and especially down to fuck. The people in these photos are looking for someone to join their adult softball team. Here, hold this.”

Courtney passes me her phone, then stands up from the couch and strides into the bathroom. She emerges a few minutes later, wearing bright red lipstick. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Courtney in red lipstick. She’s also plucked the rubber band from her ponytail, and her sandy blond hair is deliberately disheveled.

“Wow,” I say, as Courtney sits down again on the couch. “I didn’t even know you owned red lipstick.”

“I was saving it for an emergency,” she says.

“You look great,” I say. “But what should I do? I don’t have any emergency cosmetics.”

“Hmm,” Courtney says, sizing me up. She then teases her fingers through my hair, giving me a similarly disheveled look.

“That’ll have to do,” she says. “But maybe try not to look so scared, OK?”

Courtney takes her phone back from me and shoots a dozen more selfies of us. Rather than smiling, we pucker our lips in our best attempt at a sexy expression, but when we review our photos we look instead like parents making stupid kissy faces at a toddler.

“Fuck,” Courtney says. “This isn’t working. Are we really so unsexy?”

“We’re sexy once someone gets to know us,” I say.

Courtney laughs. “Maybe we should put that in our profile.”

She stares off for a moment, deep in contemplation, then passes her phone back to me. She sits forward and lifts her t-shirt up and over her head. She’s wearing her white bra, which accentuates the smooth curves of her breasts. Courtney’s breasts aren’t large, but they are perfectly shaped, and so soft and light I could blow on them and make a wish—which I’ve done more than once.

Courtney sizes me up again for a moment, then grabs for the collar of my t-shirt and, with a strength that surprises me, rips the collar open, baring my chest.

“Shit, babe,” I say. “My shirt.”

“Oh, get over it,” Courtney says. “You paid four dollars for it at Goodwill. You’ll be fine.”

“To be honest,” I say, “that was actually pretty hot.”

“I know,” Courtney says. “That’s the idea.”

I hand Courtney her phone and we pose for more selfies, but now, whether because we’re feeling sexier or because we’ve embraced the ridiculousness of it all, we’re feeling more relaxed and playful. Courtney grabs her tits with her free hand, and I stick my tongue in her ear. Courtney licks the side of my face, while I grab a fistful of her hair. She sits on my lap and rocks against me, and I feel myself getting hard as she continues shooting selfies of us.

“These are beginning to look much better,” she says.

Courtney rocks back and forth against me more firmly, and I let out a moan as she takes another photo.

“Yes,” Courtney says, reviewing the photo. “That looks good. I’m going to upload a couple of these for now, OK? Just as placeholders. I think we’re getting closer, but we’re not quite there yet.”

Courtney reaches down with her free hand and undoes my jeans. She reaches for my cock and strokes me. My eyes close as I let out a deep moan. Courtney takes a photo.

“Mmm,” she says. “Yeah, much better.”

As Courtney continues to stroke me, I reach up and begin massaging her breasts over her bra. I’m staring into the camera now, watching myself squeeze Courtney’s tits while she jerks me off, and I have to agree with her, we’ve definitely made some improvement.

“Look at us,” I say. “We’re pretty sexy.”

“We can still do better.”

She sets her phone down on the couch and stands up. She pulls her leggings down to the floor, hesitates for a moment, then pulls her underwear off too. She’s now standing above me wearing only her bra.

“You too,” she says.

“Umm?” I say. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to show these bitches we mean business,” she says.

I take my shirt off, then slide my pants and underwear down to the floor. I’m completely hard, staring at Courtney’s body, her bright red lips pressed together in firm determination. Courtney looks me up and down. She then bends forward, picks up her phone, and hands it to me.

“Your turn on the camera,” she says.

Courtney kneels in front of me on the couch and pushes my legs apart. She looks up at the phone in my hand, then tells me to flip it around so the screen is facing her.

“I want to see myself,” she says. “I want to be sure we get the best angle.”

I hold the phone in front of Courtney as she takes me in her mouth. I’m trying to hold the phone steady and take photos, but Courtney is sucking me off so good I can’t keep still. My hand is shaking, and I’m sure all the photos are coming out blurry. Courtney must’ve noticed, because she reaches up and grabs hold of my wrist and holds it steady while she continues to suck my cock.

After a few minutes, when I feel like I’m going to explode, Courtney takes me out of her mouth and grabs the phone from me.

“I think we got some good ones,” she says, wiping her mouth. Her lipstick is smudged, and then I look down and see streaks of red on my cock.

“Oh yeah?” I say, breathing heavily. “You think that’ll do it?”

“Oh no, babe,” she says. “We’re not through yet. We need to show them everything, so they know what to expect.”

Courtney sits on the couch, then lies her head back against the armrest and spreads her legs. I kneel over her and take photos of her as she touches herself. She slides one finger inside and I take a photo. She slides two fingers inside. I take another photo. She looks directly into the camera as she reaches behind her back and unfastens her bra. I take a photo as she pulls her bra away and exposes her breasts to the camera. She slips her fingers in and out, squeezing each of her breasts one at a time, as I take photo after photo.

“Fuck,” she says. “This is making me wet.”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I say.

“Hand me that phone,” she says. “And come put your mouth on me.”

I drop to my knees on the couch cushions and dive between Courtney’s thighs. Her pussy is so wet and warm, and she moans as I press my lips against her. I lick her slowly, from the bottom, near her ass, up to her clit. I give her clit a flick with my tongue, and I feel her shudder at the same time I hear the camera shutter.

“Yes, baby,” she says. “That’s good. These are good. Don’t stop.”

I’ve eaten Courtney’s pussy many times, but I’m sucking on her now like I never have before. I draw circles with my tongue and tease her clit with my teeth. I spread her labia with two fingers and slide my tongue deep inside her. I feel her hand grab the top of my head, and I hear the camera shutter again and again.

“Oh fuck yes,” Courtney says. “So good, so good.”

I don’t know if she’s talking about how I’m eating her pussy or how the photos are turning out, but either way I’m happy.

Courtney now lifts my head and sits up straight.

“Lie down on the floor,” she tells me.

After I’ve rolled off the couch and stretched out on the floor, Courtney kneels over me and hands me the phone.

“Pretend like you’re playing one of your video games,” she says.

“What does that mean?” I say.

“Don’t stop shooting,” she says.

Courtney guides my cock into her pussy and we moan together. She rocks slowly against me, back and forth. I focus the camera on her body and press the shutter. She begins grinding hard against my cock as she looks at the camera and bites her bottom lip hard. She sticks three fingers in her mouth and begins sucking on them, then takes her fingers out of her mouth and teases her nipples.

I’m watching all of this on the phone’s screen, taking photo after photo, but I’m so turned on it’s hard for me to focus. Both of us are breathing and sighing heavily, and soon Courtney presses her hands against my chest and begins to bounce up and down on my cock. She closes her eyes and moans.

“Yes, Riley,” she says. “God, yes.”

Courtney opens her eyes again and stares defiantly into the camera lens.

“Keep shooting, baby,” she says, as she goes back to grinding against me. She presses herself hard against my cock, and I can feel her body trembling on top of me. She sticks her fingers in her mouth  again and looks at the camera, as if watching herself being watched. She begins breathing heavier and heavier, and then she pulls her fingers out of her mouth and gasps.

“Holy shit,” she says, rocking back and forth faster on my cock. “I’m going to cum. Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum.”

“Oh god, I am too,” I say, and no sooner do I say it then we’re both howling and shaking like crazy as we cum at the same time. I somehow manage to get one final shot of Courtney in the throes of orgasm, head thrown back, mouth open wide, and beads of sweat on the tip of her nose, catching the light brilliantly. It’s the best shot yet, in my opinion.

Courtney collapses on my chest and we lie there panting on the floor as we catch our breath. I set the phone down, then run my fingers through her hair and kiss the top of her head. She lifts her head up and kisses my lips.

“Well,” she says. “That was something.”

“Certainly was,” I say.

“I guess we probably got some good shots,” Courtney says with a laugh. “But to be honest, I’m kinda over the app idea already. I mean, that—whatever just happened—was exactly what we needed. What do you think?”

“I agree completely,” I say. “I’ve already forgotten about that dumb app. It seems like we don’t need it, after all.”

I lift Courtney’s face to kiss her again, but right then we hear a sound come from the phone. Courtney reaches for her phone and looks at the screen.

“We got a match!” she says.