Homemade

'We should make a porno,' Richie said.

It was Saturday night. They had had a bite of supper and then they had strolled along to the pub for a couple of hours. Now they were home again and it was bedtime. Richie was standing in front of the dressing mirror. He had removed his lower garments -- his jeans and his boxers -- and he was idly handling his cock, giving it an encouraging tug or two.

Valerie frowned. And then she laughed. 'A porno? You mean a film?'

'A video. Yes.'

'Of us?'

'Of us.'

'Of you and me... well... doing it?'

'Of us doing it,' Richie confirmed.

'Far be it for me to point out, but we are hardly in the first blush of youth,' Valerie said. 'Or had you not noticed?'

Richie laughed. 'Mature,' he said. 'It's all the rage.'

'All the rage with whom?'

'Lots of people.'

'And you know this how?'

'Perhaps I read it somewhere.'

'Where?'

'Can't remember. But somewhere.'

'Somewhere?'

'Somewhere.'

'Perhaps I don't fancy other people watching us. Watching us doing it,' Valerie said.

'Oh? No? It might be fun,' Richie said.

'No.'

'No?'

'No.'

Richie gave his cock another tug or two. It was beginning to fatten. The idea of others watching seemed to be having a more positive effect on him than it did on Valerie. 'And anyway, it might be fun just for us to watch it,' Richie said. 'We wouldn't have to put it out there for other people to see. I mean... well... we could. Of course we could. But not necessarily. We could just watch it ourselves.'

'No.'

'No for others? Or no for us.'

Valerie smiled.

'You'd like to watch my cock going into your cunt, wouldn't you?'

'I need to pee,' Valerie said.

'Can I come and watch?'

'No.'

'Oh.'

'And who did you have in mind to be behind the camera for this little cinematic masterpiece?' Valerie asked when she returned from the bathroom.

'Behind the camera?'

'Yes. Who did you imagine would be the photographer? The cinematographer. Whatever.'

'I didn't. Not really. I thought we could just set the camera up on a tripod. But I see what you mean.'

'What I mean? I don't mean anything. I just got the feeling that you already had someone in mind.'

'So you do think it's a good idea?'

'No.'

'Oh. I just thought....'

'Well, just think again. The answer is no.'

For a while Richie said nothing. And then he said: 'Maggie takes good pics, good videos. That video she made of your birthday....'

'No.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive.'

'I thought that you liked Maggie.'

'I do. But I don't need her peering into her camera while you thrust your cock into me.'

'I thought that you liked me thrusting my cock into you. Into your sexy cunt.'

'I do. But I don't need Maggie filming the whole event. What we do in our bedroom is what we do in our bedroom. That's where it begins and ends.'

'And when we do it in the living room?'

'That's just an extension of the bedroom.'

'OK. Maybe Sophie then.'

'Sophie!? Jeez, Richie. She'd be selling copies to everyone at the golf club.'

Richie nodded. 'Mmm. She does have a bit of an entrepreneurial streak.' And he laughed. 'Not Sophie then.'

* * *

On Tuesday evening, Valerie went to her book group. By the time that she got home, Richie was already in bed. 'How was it?' he asked.

'Same old same old,' Valerie said. 'We seem to keep discussing the same book. Well, we don't. But we might as well do.'

'Oh?'

'The books are all so... samey. And they're all so... well... grim. I think I might have to find a new hobby. Anyway, what have you been up to?'

'Oh... this and that,' Richie said with a sly grin. 'Go and get yourself ready for bed and I'll share something that isn't so grim.'

'Oh?'

'Chop, chop,' Richie said. 'I've been doing some research.'

'Research? I'm intrigued.'

When Valerie returned from the bathroom, Richie had turned down the duvet and he had his iPad resting on his lap. His half-hard stiffy was lolling on the virtual keyboard. 'Come and join me,' he said.

Valerie looked at him. 'Research?'

'I think it was Charlie Chaplin -- or perhaps it was Orson Welles -- I'm not sure -- but one them once said that he never passed up a chance to learn from a master. And, as a new boy -- well, new to the craft of erotic cinematography, anyway -- I thought that I should do a bit of swotting up.'

'Learn from a master?'

'Learn from a master.'

'And how do you know that you are learning from a master?'

'Ah. Yes. Well that is where my cock comes in.' And Richie stroked his cock appreciatively.

Valerie looked at her husband and shook her head in disbelief.

'In your case,' Richie said, 'I imagine the test might be more a question of the degree of wetness.'

'Do you?'

'I do. Unless of course, you have some other more reliable litmus test.'

Again Valerie shook her head in mock disbelief. And then she got into bed next to her husband.

'You, umm, might want to remove your knickers,' Richie said.

'And why would that be?'

'It would make it easier.'

'Easier for what?' Valerie asked.

'To test for the degree of wetness.' And before Valerie had a chance to say anything else, Richie tapped a couple of keys on his iPad and the screen was filled with the image of a middle-aged couple undressing each other. 'Dennis and Denise,' Richie said.

'Dennis and Denise?'

'Or possibly Victor and Victoria. No names, no pack drill. Does she look like a Victoria?'

'Not especially.'

'Perhaps Denise then. But, as I say, no names, no pack drill. However, I thought that you would appreciate her hairy cunt. It reminds me a lot of yours.'

'Really?'

'You don't think so?'

'Perhaps.'

'I think hair down there is making a comeback,' Richie said.

Valerie peered at her own rather attractive thatch patch. 'Mine never really went away,' she said.

'There was that one time.'

'I don't really count that,' Valerie said. 'It was an experiment. An experiment that didn't really work.'

Richie nodded. 'No. Still... you have to try these things.'

'So... how did you find this couple who shall remain nameless?'

'I think they must have got lost.'

'Lost?'

'I was looking for a Tinto Brass movie. Looking to learn from a master. And they were there.'

'In the movie?'

'No. Just... well... just hanging about. Although... I suppose they wouldn't look totally out of place in a Tino Brass movie.'

Valerie smiled and nodded. 'And where were you looking? When you accidently ran into this couple.'

'On the internet.'

'You see... I rest my case,' Valerie said.

'You rest your case? Pray tell.'

'You say that you found them on the internet. And yet, just a few days ago, you were trying to assure me that we wouldn't end up on the internet.'

'Umm... yes... well, as I say, I think they must have got lost. They probably didn't intend to end up on the internet. Still, their minor misfortune is our good fortune. Would you not agree?'

'I suppose that you have watched it. Their little film.'

'I have. I was trying to learn from a master. But I'm more than happy to watch it again. I think you'll enjoy it. In fact... I think you're enjoying it already. Am I right?' And Richie gently placed his hand between Valerie's spreading thighs and slid it up until it was resting at the entrance to her warm fuckhole.

Valerie placed her own hand on top of Richie's hand. 'Possibly,' she said. 'Who wants to know?' And then she said: 'That bloke has a bum like yours.'

'No one has a bum like mine,' Richie said.

'Victor -- or whatever his name is does. It's just like yours. Very sexy.'

Richie studied the screen. 'Interesting.' And then he studied the screen again. 'And now that you mention it, Victoria has a bum very like yours.'

'No, she doesn't.'

'I think you'll find that she does. And I should know. I've spent enough time studying it. Yours, I mean.' And he laughed.

'So that's what we look like,' Valerie said. 'Well... that's what we look like when we're... you know.'

'I suppose so,' Richie said.

'Quite sexy really.'

'It works for me.'

'So it would seem,' Valerie said, taking Richie's growing cock in hand.

For a while, they both studied the screen while fingering each other. And then Richie said: 'Are you sure that you wouldn't like to make a porno?'

'What... so that it could get lost on the internet?'

'No. Just so that... well... just for a bit of fun.'

'We don't have a camera.'

'Don't need a camera. We could use one of our phones. Or maybe both of them.'

'Neither of us is exactly a master of still photography -- never mind movies,' Valerie said.

'The quality wouldn't matter,' Richie said. 'It would just be a bit of fun.'

Over the next couple of days, Richie had another couple of half-hearted attempts to persuade Valerie that making a porno might be fun. But, alas, to no avail.

* * *

On Saturday morning, it rained. It absolutely pelted down. But then, soon after one in the afternoon, it suddenly stopped. There was even a hint of sunshine. 'I think I might go for a run,' Richie said.

Valerie pushed the curtain to one side and looked out the window. 'Is that wise?'

'I think the rain has stopped,' Richie said. 'For the moment anyway.'

Valerie didn't seem convinced. 'Up to you,' she said. 'Any requests for supper?'

'What are the options?'

'I don't know. A lamb curry. Steak and kidney pudding. Lasagne.'

'Oh, yes. Lasagne would be nice. We haven't had lasagne for ages.'

'OK. Lasagne it is,' Valerie confirmed.

* * *

When Richie returned from the park, the flat was already filling with the unmistakable aroma of ragu Bolognese. (Valerie favoured the Marcella Hazan approach: cooking the ragu long and slow. Three hours at least.) 'Oh, yes,' Richie said.

'How was it out there?' Valerie asked.

'Hmm... a bit squelchy underfoot. But not too bad.'

'I've invited Maggie to join us,' Valerie said. 'Do we have a suitable Italian red we can open to go with the lasagne?'

Richie frowned slightly but then nodded. 'I think so. Chianti. Sangiovese. Either of those should complement the rich tomato sauce nicely. Let me go and see what's down there.'

'Maggie?' Richie said when he returned from the cellar with a bottle of Chianti and a bottle of Sangiovese.

'Yes. I ran into her around at the corner shop. She had just got back from Yorkshire. Or somewhere up that way. And she was getting milk.'

Richie nodded. 'I didn't think I'd seen her around for a few days.'

'Probably doing a wedding or something,' Valerie said.

'Don't they have photographers up in Yorkshire?'

'Not London photographers.'

'Oh? Is there a premium on London photographers?'

'I think there must be.'

* * *

Maggie arrived just after six. Her flat was in the same Georgian terrace as Valerie and Richie's flat. Just two doors along.

'A glass of red?' Richie suggested.

'Thank you.'

Richie poured another glass of Sangiovese (he and Valerie had already made a start) and passed it over to Maggie.

'Cheers,' Maggie said.

'Cheers,' her host and hostess chorused.

'I gather you have been venturing north,' Richie said.

Maggie smiled. 'Yorkshire. Yes. Have camera, will travel.'

'Another happy bride and groom?'

'Umm... yes and no. I've... umm... branched out a bit,' Maggie said.

'Oh?'

'Yes. It sort of started about a year or so ago when I did a wedding for an older couple. A nice couple. Both on their second time around. Just a small affair. The bride and groom and about a dozen of their friends. And then, a month or so ago, the... umm... groom got in touch and asked me if I did boudoir photography. I told him not really. But we talked for a bit and -- I don't really know why -- but I agreed to go and take some shots of his wife. Morag.

'They live just outside Harrogate, but I thought that he -- or maybe they -- might like the relative anonymity of a hotel room. Perhaps even down here in London. However it turned out that they were both quite keen on using their bedroom. And so I packed up my kit -- and few props -- and headed north.

'I must admit that I wasn't entirely sure how... umm... raunchy they might want to go. So I decided that we would start out reasonably quietly and then gradually turn up the volume until we had reached the limit of their comfort -- as it were. And... well... it seems their comfort level was way higher than I had expected.'

Valerie and Richie both raised their eyebrows.

Maggie continued. 'Yes. About forty minutes into the shoot, Gerald -- the husband -- had his cock out and was suggesting that it might be good to get a few shots of him Rogering his good lady. From all angles.'

'And did you?' Richie asked.

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. 'They were paying,' she said.

Valerie frowned. 'Were they...? Well, I mean, were they...?'

'Just ordinary people like you and I,' Maggie said.

'And these were just still pics?' Richie said. 'Or did...? Well....'

'We started out with stills. But then we moved on.'

'And were they not worried about their... umm... performance ending up in the wrong hands?' Valerie asked.

'The wrong hands?'

'Well... you know... on the internet perhaps.'

Maggie laughed. 'Oh. Yes. I see what you mean. The only way their pics will end up on the internet is if they put them there. There's only one copy. And Gerald and Morag have it.'

Valerie nodded. But she didn't seem entirely convinced.

'Mind you, they looked a lot more... shall we say arousing?... than a lot of the stuff you do see on the internet.'

'You speak as one who knows,' Richie said with a broad smile.

'Research,' Maggie told him. 'You know... just to see what's out there.'

'Research. Yes. And... well... as you say: they were paying you,' Richie said.

'Maggie smiled. 'Exactly. Although I certainly wasn't expecting that we would be going for the money shot as it were.'

* * *

The lasagne was up to Valerie's usual high standard. And the Chianti (by the time that they started eating, they had already consumed the entire bottle of Sangiovese) was a perfect accompaniment.

'Are you going to continue with your new sideline?' Richie asked Maggie during a lull in the conversation.

'My new sideline?'

'The... umm... boudoir photography.'

'I'm giving it serious consideration. I think there's probably a market. If Gerald and Morag are anything to go by, people seem to quite like being stars in their own little productions. And it's not exactly a chore. For me, I mean. In fact it's quite fun.'

'If you ever need an assistant,' Richie said with a broad smile.

Valerie frowned. 'Obviously I'm no expert in these matters,' she said, 'but I would have thought that there is more... well... pornography... about now than there has ever been.'

'Probably,' Maggie said. 'But, ironically, while the digital revolution has spawned several million porn clips, there is still not a lot of quality erotica. Good erotica -- like good anything -- tends to cost money. The people in front of the camera -- and behind the camera, too, for that matter -- expect to be paid. At least they do if they are doing it for someone else. If they are doing it for themselves on the other hand....'

Valerie nodded.

'Who would you rather watch?' Maggie said. 'A couple of scraggy skanks? Or a nice couple such as yourselves?'

Richie laughed and refilled the wine glasses. This was going to be even easier than he had expected. 'Well, that's not a hard decision, is it? Given a choice between Valerie and some alleged Czech porn star... it's going to have to be Valerie every time.'

Maggie looked at Valerie with a broad smile.

'And you're sure there's no way these things can end up on the internet?' Valerie said.

'Only if you choose to post them there.'

'I'm hardly likely to do that, am I?' Valerie said.

'No. I wouldn't have thought so.'

Once things got rolling, it all happened quite quickly.

'I'll go and get the dessert,' Valerie said.

'Why don't we save that for afterwards,' Richie said.

'After what?'

Maggie smiled. 'I'll just pop home and grab my camera and a couple of lights, shall I? Do you two want to get yourselves warmed up as it were?'