Ronna's Adult Video Store

I drove by it on the way to school.

It caught my eye every time.

"Ronna's Adult Video" the sign said.

There was parking in front, but I couldn't. It sat right beside a busy street. What if someone drove by that knew me and saw me going in?

I watched it as I drove by and almost crashed my car. A city bus was entering traffic a few cars ahead and they were all slowing down but me. I was staring at the front of the store, watching a man in a business suit walk out to his SUV. How could he do it knowing that everyone driving by would be watching him, searching his face to find out what kind of person would go into a place like that.

I saw the red brake lights just in time.

The next day as I drove by, there were no cars in front, and I saw a sign that read, "Parking in rear."

Parking in rear.

I imagined parking in the rear. I rolled the word, "rear" over my lips. It was a sensual word, full of the promise of smooth skin and legs dancing before my face. If I could park in the rear, I could get inside without being seen by the searching eyes on the road.

After school, I decided I would do it.

As I drew near, my heart was pounding in my throat and my hands were shaking and cold, clammy, slippery with excitement. Could I actually do it, I asked myself. Could I actually park my car in the rear, step out into the open air, and make my feet move my body into the store?

I left the main road, and went down a little side street with alders and birches hanging out over the road, shading the street, closing it in like a tunnel. I passed a the rear of the bar on the corner, then the rear of the dumpy motel, and then found myself in the tiny rear parking lot of the video store.

I parked my car and turned off the engine. There was a flight of rickety wooden steps in front of me that lead up to a door that was marked with a white sign declaring, "Adults only." The engine pinged and ticked while it cooled. All else was silent except for the blood and adrenaline pounding in my ears.

I took my keys, opened the door, locked it, stepped out onto the black top, put my keys in my pocket and closed the door. I could barely breathe. I thought I was going to pass out.

But the fire was in me, and I wanted to go inside. I wanted to see what was in there, to see what it was like. I moved my feet forward, up the stairs, and pulled the door open.

Inside was a dark hallway that smelled of cigarette smoke, cleaning fluid, and something else, some unidentifiable sweet, rotten smell. Down the hallway I went, where I was greeted by a life size poster of a naked girl sprawled on a bed with her hair a golden halo around her and her hand buried in her pussy.

To my left was the cash register with an old bald guy sitting on a stool flipping through a Readers Digest. He looked up when I appeared, nodded once, then went back to his reading.

I strolled past him into the magazine area. There were old Penthouse and Playboy magazines, dogeared and wrinkled with use. There were also other things that I had never imagined existed. Glossy magazines that showed everything. I lifted one off the shelf, flipped it open, and found myself looking into the face of a girl, her eyes half closed with either pleasure or pain, or perhaps both, as another girl shoved her whole hand up into her vagina.

I was glad that I had worn my shirt untucked or my swollen cock would have been painfully obvious. But then, I thought, isn't that what a store like this is all about?

I put the magazine back, turned, and found a table full of plastic things, dildos and plastic pussies, blow up dolls and something called a cock ring. I looked for a bit and found them interesting but not very arousing.

I passed the cashier again and walked to the video section. There were lots of videos. I pawed through them for a bit, but then my attention was drawn to the sound of sex, the sound of a girl screaming out her pleasure.

I had to know what was happening.

There was another hallway that lead to a darkened room with a row of doors on either side. The sweet, sort of rotten smell was strong in here, as was the smell of smoke. The sound of sex was blaring from one of the booths. They were video booths of some kind.

I chose one at random and opened the door, entered it, and closed the door behind myself. It was small, with a chair, a garbage can, and a video screen that was attached to what looked like the dollar bill feed for a vending machine. The floor was slightly wet and a little slippery. Cum. Someone had been here before me and masturbated while they were watching a dirty movie, and they shot their cum on the floor. And now I was walking on it.

It was disgusting, and I wanted to do it too.

I pulled a dollar from my wallet and fed it into the machine.

The screen flickered and then the sound of two gay guys blared out at full volume. I jumped, and found the volume control and then the channel control. I surfed through the channels, finding some revolting things, like the gay men, and two men that were taking a crap on the face of a girl, but there were other things, like lesbians licking and nibbling on pussies, big black cocks stuffed into creamy white asses, and then I found the one I decided to stay with. It had three girls playing with toys, and cramming huge, enormous things into their pussies. I was astounded. I was horny beyond belief.

I pulled my pants down, careful not to get them in the puddle of cum, and took my penis in my hand and started working on it. I stroked up and down, up and down. I make a lot of precum when I'm turned on like this, and I was drooling all over my hand, making things slippery.

The volume was down, almost off on mine, and the sound of sex coming from the other booth either ended or was turned down as well, so I could hear the sloppy slapping sounds as I moved my hand up and down, building myself to orgasm.

Then my time ran out, and I was staring at the blue screen again.

I madly fumbled for my wallet, fed in another dollar bill, and continued where I had left off.

A girl was sitting on some kind of vibrating machine, cuming in great gushes which splashed out and danced on the base of the vibrating dildo stuffed deep in her cunt. Her face and chest were red with exertion, and the strain of her intense orgasm was painted all over her face. She was gasping and moaning, and holding her breath then letting it out in short explosions, while the other two girls diddled her clitoris and tweaked her nipples.

Suddenly, she was screaming out, her body convulsing, and I was shooting with her, spraying my semen all over the video screen. It streamed down past her heaving breasts, past her quivering pussy, and dribbled onto the floor.

I zipped my pants, quietly slipped through the door, down the hallway, out the back door, down the stairs, and sped away.

I was elated, I was floating, I felt like I was covered in smoke and dirt and needed a shower.

I went home and masturbated twice more to the memory and planned for my return.