Chapter 12

Dale always thought of himself as a lover and not a fighter. He didn't want to have any problems with Irv or anyone for that matter. He tried to placate Irv, "For crying out loud, Irv ... what are you getting all upset about? I didn't mean...."

"I know what you mean," Irv said. "And you're wrong. What goes on between you and Kathy is your business. I can't stop that. But I can stop you from using my friends."

Dale was only interested now in placating Irv. "Who's using anyone? I came here for a party, that's all. So maybe later I do some business with Mitch. Is that a crime?"

Irv was finally weary of it. "Maybe you're right. Who the hell am I to tell people what to do. But here's something I want you to know, insurance man. No matter what you think of swingers, there's one thing we don't do-sell ourselves." He smiled for the first time and said, "Come on. Let's give the girls a treat."

As Dale and Irv came into the living room, Kathy looked askance at Dale's happy coat. "You look silly," she giggled.

Irv said. "We can't all be Mister Americas." Natalie with her big eyes devoured Dale and said, "He'll do until something better comes along."

Now Mitch and Mike were fooling around with the projector, trying the switches and moving the screen around.

"I'm ready to roll," Mike said. "All right, girls, move a little. This is a big production. You don't want to miss anything."

Natalie said, "I'd like some popcorn. I don't like to watch stag films without popcorn."

"Drink instead," Mitch ordered.

The men were busy toting furniture around so the screen would be visible.

Natalie tapped her glass against Dale's and offered a toast. "Bottom to bottom, top to top. Once we get started we'll never stop."

"Okay," Mitch said. "On with the show. Someone get the lights."

Everyone scrambled for their seats. The lights went out and the movie flashed on the screen. Mitch sat next to Kathy and let his hand slide down the flimsy front to her soft breast. His eyes were on the screen. Kathy made no move to escape. She was trapped and she was in it now to the end.

Thelma said, "I never understand this whole scene. Here we have the real thing and we sit around looking at a silly movie about it."

Irv said, "Darling, it's a conditioning process. It's supposed to make us all raving sex maniacs."

Natalie clamped a tight embrace on Dale now that the lights were out.

The film came on. It was shoddy and grainy in quality. The main title was quite obviously of the home va- riety (the letters which are assembled on the title card come in a kit).

The first title card reads, "Tobasco Productions Presents." The second card jumped onto the screen reading "Connie & Blyde." A third card read: APPROVED BY THE LEGION OF INDECENCY.

There is a crude fade-in to the interior of a motor court bedroom. The furniture is shabby and the whole place gives off the unmistakable aura of the 1930's, with a faded photograph of Franklin D. Roosevelt on the wall.

A door flies open and Connie enters. She is followed by a breathless Blyde, clutching a cardboard suitcase. Connie is wearing a white beret, jersey top and mid-calf suit with a vest. She had on a buttoned shirt without any necktie.

Connie is obviously a housewife and what is even more obvious is the fact that the couple have produced, directed and starred in this bedroom epic.

Connie takes off her beret, shakes out her hair and sits up on the bed, her head leaning against the headboard.

Blyde perches himself on the foot of the bed and opens the cardboard suitcase which is bulging with bundles of dollar bills.

In a slow slurring Oakie accent, Connie says, "Ah declare, Blyde, robbing banks shore makes me hot."

Blyde is totally unperturbed by her remark and starts to count the money he has spread out before him.

Connie fidgets and continues since she has been ignored by Blyde, "You can count that money later. Ah need some lovin' so bad I could dah."

If Connie has a bad accent, then Blyde's is the worst. He looks up momentarily at her. "Ah keep tell-in' you ah'm no good at thet stuff."

Connie has moved over to Blyde's side now and kicks the suitcase off the bed. She pulls him down onto the bed beside her, and attacks him with feverish kisses until he responds.

Connie begins to move down to Blyde's frontside and he tries to push her away. We see her head go down below the frameline of the picture screen. Suddenly Blyde jumps up from the bed and with his back to her and the camera, goes over and stands in front of the window even though the shades are down. He speaks as if to the blind, "Ah tol' you I'm no good. I just cain't help it."

A disheveled Connie is seen lying on the bed with a lot of thigh showing. She is irritated. "You're tellin' me! That's all you're good for. But I got to have it now. All that shootin' just drives me crazy."

Connie suddenly starts to writhe on the bed in a burlesque parody of a woman in heat. Blyde turns around and watches her, impotent excitement in his face. Connie grabs a pillow and begins making love to it as if clasping a man to her. Blyde just watches. Then with a sudden resolve he runs to the door and yanks it open He speaks to B.S. who is out of camera shot. "Hey, B.S. Git over here!"

B.S. appears in the doorway; a dazed expression of ferret-like stupidity exudes from his putty faced features. Blyde motions him toward the bed where Con- nie is doing delicious things to the pillow.

Blyde motions to him. "Git over there and do yore stuff, boy!"

B.S. has an agonized expression on his face "What?" he asks in pained expression 'Not again Ah quit.'

Blyde yanks his pistol from his shoulder holster. "You can't quit. We all got to do our share."

B.S. moves towards the bed, sits beside Connie. He slowly begins the ritual of removing his clothes. It is ludicrous. Under his windbreaker there is a mechanic's shirt and under that a kind of undershirt that used to be known as a singlet. He keeps that on. Connie is also undressing and turns to B.S.

"Hurry up, honey. Ah cain't wait." She is breathing heavily.

But B.S. has his own hang-up. He has some business with his ankle top shoes which he has to unlace and is experiencing considerable difficulty with a knotted lace.

Connie down to panties and bra draws B.S. onto the bed with her. She is in a hurry. Her urgency shows itself in comedic relief.

Blyde, seated on a hardback chair, has his hand still clutching the gun which he holds between his legs pointed at the floor. His face portrays a different sort of interest. We all now sense that the comedic aspects of our home movie are over and that the pornographic aspects are about to begin.

There is a series of shots indicating B.S. and Connie's frantic sexual activity. They go into a tight embrace with B.S. on top of Connie whose legs are wrapped around his waist. He is pumping into her in long rythmic strokes. He is obviously built for one thing. He has an erection like a stud horse. And that's exactly what Connie wants. She grunts and groans under his pressure and then manages to flip him over on his back, holding onto him in the process, so that she is now over him and she is doing the pumping.

Then Connie has another idea. She gets off top of him and tells him to sit up with his back against the headboard of the bed. The dumb B.S. does as he is told. He looks somewhat bored with it all but his erection is right where it is supposed to be. Standing up like a flagpole and almost as round.

Connie is like a maniac. She is tonguing his chest and stomach and when his large tool touches her cheek she greedily puts her mouth over the head and tries to see how much of it she can swallow. She has difficulty just getting the head in her mouth because of the size of the moronic B.S. who is totally unaware of his potential. As she works her mouth around, B.S. begins to get a good feeling and he leans forward, caressing her head like a lap dog licking someone's hand.

There is a close shot on Blyde who is now slack-jawed, drooling and glassy eyed. He watches but it is difficult to tell what he is getting from it all.

Once Connie realizes she has B.S. worked up into a real passion again she has him mount her dog-fashioned and he really gets with it now. Connie, too, is nearing climax and the camera closes in on her face. She grimaces in impending orgasm. Her breathing is loud and labored. Suddenly it changes into an accelerated succession of cries, which ultimately culminate in one long piercing shriek as she has her orgasm.

Connie's body jerks and wrenches and she now struggles to free herself of the monster on her back. But B.S. has been aroused and her movement only intensifies his own effort.

By the time B.S. reaches his own peak and unloads himself inside Connie she is beating the headboard with her fists with frustration at his inconsideration that her peak has passed and he should get off now.

B.S. has a twisted, crooked smile on his face as he has his orgasm and the ecstasy of the act makes him swoon. He releases his hold and Connie pulls away from him and allows him to just flop on the bed in exhaustion.

She moves away from him and begins to pick the money up from the floor and starts to count when the film fades out.