Eddie Gets A Tattoo

Brenda looked around the office and pulled her tits out.

"This is why you don't wanna get a tattoo" she told Eddie, holding them up for him to see.

Eddie looked intently and finally asked, "A rose?"

"Bodies stretch and shrink, it lost its color. Do you see what I mean?" she repeated her warning.

Before anyone could even think about getting back from lunch, she made herself decent and wondered why she'd flashed the tech. She could have just told him about stretching.

"But I don't want color, I just wanted a disarticulated skull."

"What's a disarticulated skull?" Brenda asked.

"You know, a skull without a jaw."

"Boy, by the time you pay off that tattoo it'll look like a potato," she admonished him.

Now Eddie became skeptical.

"Do they really stretch that much?" he asked.

She gave him a crooked look and sighed, pulling her tits out again. Except, this time she didn't bother covering up both her nipples so carefully. "Save your money," she said and stretched the skin a few interesting ways so he could better see how it all went wrong over the decades. He examined her tits for far longer than she had intended to let him, but she was protective of him and had really meant what she said. The tattoo was a bad idea.

Soon the lunch ended, and the small office got crowded. Eddie did some work but kept glancing her way. The phones picked up for a while and then calmed down fast. Eddie got bored during the second downtime and was perusing dating sites without bothering to hide it.

"What's a fuddy-duddy?" he asked after a time.

"It means an old person," fat Dwight called out.

"He means old-fashioned," Brenda corrected him. Then after a few minutes she got concerned. Eddie wasn't doing a crossword puzzle, he was flipping through multiple dating sites and asking about unfamiliar phrases.

"What the heck are you doing there?" she warned him off with a scowl. Others looked on out of boredom. Just another amusing adventure with Eddie doing his random things.

Eddie rolled a few feet away from his screen and turned around, inviting a peek. He scratched his head. "Some woman matched and wrote me a note. But it's a bit bizarre. And I don't know, she's older."

Brenda walked over to his desk and looked at the note. The woman wrote something about "liking meat" in his response to possibly meeting at a steakhouse. She frowned and rolled her eyes.

"Edward Ray Paul, you are NOT allowed to date this person," she pronounced her sentence, "look at this here slut. She's not asking for a date, she just wants a roll in the hay. She's married."

"So?" Eddie asked.

Fat Dwight chimed in, "You know, older women know a thing or two about ORAL."

"Hush your mouth Dwight," she hissed at him and his emphasis on the word. As if he'd know. He was a few years away from retirement.

"See that wedding ring? She's a cheater. And city girl didn't even bother hiding it," Brenda complained.

The old balding man stepped out of the noisy server room and started chipping in, "Long ago back in Albuquerque I dated an older..." but Brenda cut him off with a fierce glare, "William, you still live with your mother. You shouldn't be giving anyone dating advice."

He walked back in the room, cowed, complaining about tinnitus. There was a very good reason spaceman was tucked away from everyone else, listening to the Blade Runner soundtrack on loop. It must've been playing continually since the '82 movie came out, Brenda guessed.

"Well. ... yeah," Eddie didn't even pretend having decency. He was down with the idea, just hadn't apparently done it yet.

"Boy, you're a hot mess," she scoffed at him, "you do not need that in your life."

She returned to her desk and frowned some more. As it got closer toward closing time, she wondered about the whole thing. Eddie was already juggling two girlfriends. He was far too young and naive to be entangled in something like that married woman. It just didn't sit right with her.

Ten minutes before five Eddie started packing up. He put his fingerless bicycling gloves on and took off his hoodie, revealing a body-fitting tank top underneath. His abs showed and they were ... shaped. Brenda inwardly gasped at that, staring.

"What?" he asked her, suddenly feeling insecure. She said nothing. Jesus, that here was just raw lust. Some skin and that's all it took to unsettle her. They'd worked together for years, but she never saw him with hungry eyes before. That old city hussy better stay away from him.

"Have a good weekend!" she chirped and smiled at him and watched him steal away early. But her thoughts were far more complicated than that. She later closed the office and sighed, locking the door behind her. She got into her Monte Carlo and cranked up the A/C for a minute before driving off. On the way home, she set a new speed record and jumped her husband the moment she realized they were alone. The kid was at grandma's. Friday night rodeo, riding a hard dick and wearing nothing but a sassy white brimmed hat.

Next week the regular office saga dragged on. Fury of lunchtime calls sandwiched by boredom. Guys were complaining about some fight they wanted to watch but couldn't because it was too expensive on pay per view.

Brenda chuckled at that.

"What?" someone asked defensively.

"Just funny how you city folk haven't solved that one yet, " Brenda replied, her eyes buried in QuickBooks.

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked.

"Well," Brenda pushed her chair off and crossed her legs triumphantly, "out in the sticks we can't get cable. So, everyone has satellite dishes."

"Alright, and?" Eddie was puzzled.

"... and that's just it. You can watch everything for free."

"That doesn't sound right," said Dwight, "don't you have to buy a subscription for those things?"

"Well yeah," Brenda replied conspiratorially, "but it's not like those little dishes talk to anything like the cable box does. If one person has a subscription card, then everyone can copy it."

"Holy shit," Eddie said excitedly, "do you mean you have a ... bootleg descrambler?"

Brenda almost scratched her head, "Maybe? Think that's something different. Like, when you buy one of them dishes, the cable box or whatever that comes with it has a place where you stick this little credit card thingie that comes with it. But instead, you put in a copied one."

Eddie seemed fascinated by this, "Where do you get the other card or whatever?"

Brenda shrugged. "Heck, I don't know. Someone else figured all that stuff out. All I know is you stick this other card in there and you get all the channels for free. Even pay per view. I'll ask my husband about it tonight, see if he knows."

"Shit, that would be great," Eddie was definitely way too eager to find out more about this strange universe, like a kid in a candy store. He'd always heard about these things but never knew anyone who knew about it.

The next day at lunch, Brenda quietly walked up to Eddie, smiled and handed him what looked like a black keycard out of her purse.

"What's this?" he grinned, already knowing. No way. This was ... way unexpected. Brenda came through for him. And so fast! He was simply unprepared, thinking she was just talking yesterday, shooting the shit. Downplaying things. No way this could be real.

"First of all, you get caught using this, I don't know you. Just go down to Walmart and get a new dish system thingie. Like the cheapest basic kind, set it up, make sure it's working, then pull the stock card out while it's running. It'll throw an error on the screen or some such. Put the black card in and it'll just keep going with all the channels."

"What if the power goes out?" he asked. It was a dumb question, he already figured out the answer.

"Duh, then you start it up again with the stock card and swap them out. So don't throw it away."

"Wow. I don't know what to say, ..." he trailed off and got hushed anyway. He was stubborn about it, "no no, I mean it, thanks Brenda. Does your husband want some money for this?"

She looked at him cockeyed.

"Eddie. Eddie. Just don't get caught using it, alright? Promise me?"

He did. Eddie couldn't wait to get off work. He drove to the store and gawked at the electronics section and then realized he didn't have enough money for the dish system. Payday was Friday. So, he had to wait. But first thing that Saturday morning Eddie climbed his parents' roof and nailed a second ugly satellite dish right next to the first one. His dad got woken up by the noise and thought he was crazy.

"Edward, why in THE hell would you buy a different system?" he drawled. They already had the other brand.

But there was no explanation. Still, his dad helped him adjust the dish until he got signal, grumbling and shaking his head the whole time. It took a lot of yelling back and forth. "Little bit to the left." "Go back." "I said go back." "No, right!"

But soon enough it made sense.

Eddie was elated when the signal in his room came on. They got the angle finally right after an hour of tinkering with the azimuth and declination and the signal strength hit the target. But when the promise of free channels came true, he was hollering as he discovered tiers upon tiers of unaffordable entertainment working for him. All the movie channels. Pay per view channels. Same movie on three different channels with staggered starting times so you can catch it whenever you felt like. All the sports. The pay-per-view fights. He hooted at that. Then he hit the page up button a few too many times and ... dirty channels showed up.

"Oh," he said softly and closed the door. Minute later he locked it. This was crazy, a dozen dirty channels, with penetration and all kinds of things he'd never imagined. It was obscene in more ways than one.

The word spread. For a time, he was the talk of his little microcosmos of friends. His dad grumbled at the noise but was secretly happy Eddie got attention. Everyone wanted to come hang out, watch games, watch movies. Flows of friends wanted to see this little secret TV thing, at nights bringing beer and gallons of spiced rum and cheap mixers and stacks of cups. His room size became a chokepoint. And heck, when on some nights people got rowdy, they put on dirty channels. That word spread even faster, to his unexpected glee. People he hadn't spoken to in a year or two were starting to show up, all mildly jealous and asking about how to get into it, but he kept his secret and let them figure it out on their own. He promised. His moral compass was flexible, but he kept outright promises.

One day after work an ex-girlfriend called and said she was getting off her shift soon and was driving nearby. They hadn't run into each other in a while, though she ran with a way different crowd these days. Did he want to hang out?

They caught up and talked for a while. She'd heard about his cable box from a mutual friend and wanted to see it. He showed her the hacked descrambler card, all the channels. He was still so very proud of having this secret thing and enjoyed sharing what it offered. He didn't have much furniture in his bedroom, so she sat on his bed propped up against a wall of pillows. He sat near the foot of the bed and was showing her how there were different release times for movies when she asked a peculiar question.

"So, uh, do you get like... you know, " she giggled nervously, "adult channels too?"

"Yeah," he laughed nervously as well. This was a surprising turn of events.

"Show me," she said and he felt a tingle of nervousness. He switched to one and the two of them just watched it in silence. This was completely unexpected, and very uncharacteristic of Becky. Few quiet seconds turned into a dozen, then those into a minute. Then two.

"You look uncomfortable. Why don't you sit up here?" Becky asked and patted the pillow next to hers. This was almost her normal perky self, but different. Suddenly that sounded like a great idea.

Eddie crept up and sat neatly upright like a tightly wound coil. His throat was dry and he was having problems swallowing. Another few minutes went by with porn on the screen with the two of them just watching in silence. This was so weird. They dated a few years back in high school but hadn't ever gotten to the sex stage. Becky knew he had a steady girlfriend, this felt so weird. And she was dating someone too, engaged actually he thought, and had a serious job at a bank.

"This is fun," she giggled, and he went along and affirmed it emptily, "ha, yeah..."

Then he felt her hand rest on his leg and slowly creep up to nearly over his crotch. She waited there for an invitation. He turned to face her and ... without thinking kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and fondled him through his pants. They kissed for a short time, and it felt familiar, warm, inviting. He missed her, he realized. Her hair smelled flowery. She reached into her pockets and tried to fish out a hair band but couldn't find one.

She looked him in the eyes and said, "Hold my hair."

Becky slid her head down in his lap, released his cock from its prison and proceeded to give him the slowest, most methodical head he'd ever gotten. Watching porn and knowing she asked for it just heightened the sensation and he had no idea that she'd even remotely be interested let alone willing to cheat on her boyfriend. It felt as if this magic box delivered so much. He couldn't pay attention, so she had to admonish him playfully a few times to hold her hair out of the way. The ends kept ending up in her mouth. He tried to focus, but the task just kept drifting away, he was drowning in pleasure. He wanted to give her something back, he tried touching her to please her, but she stopped him.

"Don't, it's that time of the month."

Which somehow made it way hotter because it meant only he could be pleasured, and she came for exactly that purpose. So, he laid back and focused on holding her hair, leaned over to watch her lips sliding over his cock. It felt so porny. He watched her head slide up and down and watched the porn on the screen and closed his eyes and repeated all that in cycles, felt up her breasts. The sense of danger of getting caught fucking another guy's girlfriend added to it all. Of his girlfriend catching them. He didn't think to lock the door, there was no cause for it earlier. Just Becky visiting. Well, she was visiting alright because her mouth suction was amazing. Before he knew it, he came. His abdomen turned into rows of tiny bricks and he shot a large load right into her mouth, four intense spasms. She squealed, surprised, but swallowed it all, then rested her head on his stomach breathing heavily.

After a few minutes she rose and kissed him on the forehead.

"Warn me you're gonna cum next time," she said playfully and started gathering her things. Eddie felt excited that there would be a next time. She apologized, "I'm late home" and ran out.

That summer was fun. Becky kept coming to visit and let him do more every few weeks. Eddie was decently attractive and girls were flirtatious but TV porn seemed to seal the deal. He showed porn channels to a few more girls aside from his own girlfriend and found some were receptive, but, not as eager as Becky. Becky was unique. Becky was astonishingly eager. She confessed she'd been shamed for wanting to watch porn before ... which sounded really uncool. And she gave the best head and wasn't shy to catch it on her face.

He passed up on the dating sites since his bedroom lair had enough visitors and as the winter approached there was less to do outdoors anyway. One girl had these amazingly huge tits and low self-esteem.

Brenda warned him to slow down when he bragged about it at the office.

"Boy, you're gonna be in a world of pain if that guy finds out."

And with the deep winter and that ominous curse, pussy slowly dried up. His girlfriend moved on after catching him with another girl, and far away. So far as to apply for early decision 2 at UC Santa Cruz, luck out, and be gone within the month. It was unpleasant and less he thought about it, the better. The other girl stayed closer, but he was dead to her now. After new year's, even Becky slowly cooled off and hinted to give her a call when he's not single, which confused him very, very much.

Then one Sunday when he and a gang of friends were waiting for the big game to start, the TV just inexplicably went dark.

"What the hell," Eddie said holding a beer and went to restart the box. This time around, the black card didn't do jack shit. He tried a few more times with no different result. He hit the side of his TV in anger and tried unplugging everything for a few minutes. No change. Well, except the bottle of Shiner Bock foamed up and he had to go get another.

He called Brenda for assistance but there was no answer. He tried a few more times, then left a voice mail. There was no callback.

"Shit," he said, and the guys commiserated.

Next day at work, Brenda wasn't there. Fat Dwight explained she took a few days off to do something. Eddie cursed. She was his lifeline to the pirated box, and he couldn't get a hold of her. He tried calling again a few times over lunch.

When she finally called back the next day, she was furious with him.

"Didn't I tell you if you get caught with that thing, I don't know you?"

"But I didn't get caught, it..."

"...yeah, it stopped working. I know. Everyone's calling all of a sudden. They call it the Black Sunday. Satellite company struck back, fried all the pirated cards. But, the nerve, boy. You got that thing for free, and you're leaving me messages on my house phone?"

Eddie felt shame. She was right, and he'd been so incredibly selfish, he realized. He deserved a dressing-down.

"Brenda, I'm so sorry. Look, I won't be a bother." He meant it. The fun toy was gone.

"Do you know how to solder?" she asked after a moment.

"Solder?" Like the electronics thing?

"My husband says you can still get it to work with something called an emulator, you just have to modify the box a bit. Pop it open, solder some wires, some kind of a ribbon ... cable or somesuch, a diode, and hook it up to a spare computer. You're smart. I'll bring you the schematic and the floppy disk when I get back to the office."

Eddie's head spun a little. Opening up a TV receiver and melting wires and all that sounded daunting. Yeah, he had a few spare piece of shit computers laying around but this was all just so confusing. He started asking clarification questions and Brenda lost her patience.

"Shit. You know what? Just bring me your receiver and swap it with ours. It's already modified, I'll get my husband to fix up the other one."

"Really, you won't mind that?"

"No," she lied knowing full well she'll get yelled at for it later, but she felt sorry for Eddie. She gave him directions to their house in the boonies.

He took the next day off from work and Fat Dwight chewed him out for it, but Eddie regularly got away with murder so he didn't sweat it. He drove up to Brenda's house and made it over there within an hour. He was surprised that Brenda made this commute every day. She was a hard worker - always punctual - and he lived around the corner from the office and yet couldn't be bothered to get there on time. He resolved to try harder.

"Where is everybody?" he asked after he pulled in at the ranch and got waved at. He thought her husband and daughter were also home taking time off with her.

"Funeral. I stayed home to take care of the horses. And before you ask, I don't wanna talk about it. It was my dirtbag mother in law."

"Shit. I'm sorry." She handed him an unmarked floppy disk and showed him inside to the family room. Receivers got swapped quickly, her old one having a freaky ribbon cable unnaturally sticking out of the back side.

Two of them just looked at each other. She was sullen, and he didn't know what to say to her. Obviously, there was family friction but family was family. She was going through a thing. No way in hell she cared about his little troubles, not by a bit. And yet she came through for him again. Eddie felt so wholly unequipped to comfort anyone. He started to open his mouth but shut it just as fast, a stupid thought luckily having escaped him. All he had going for him was selfishness and immaturity, he realized bitterly.