[robotmelon] 
Pornotube
A Critico-Phenomenological Investigation
Or, Love in the Time of Commodities
(censored for your pleasure)
The girl sitting on the black leather sofa
in the teacher’s lounge is in her late teens. She has black hair and is skinny
except for her unusually lush, round a_s (known in the business as a ‘bubble
butt’), which is one of her biggest selling points in real life and why she is
here. Another reason is because she is horny all the time.
She really really wants to get f_cked.
Twirling her pigtails looking bored when a
man walks into the room. He is much taller and fatter than she is and looks
like he used to be a football player a million years ago when he was in high
school. He has a haircut like a marine or an a_shole. His first conscious act
is to pretend he didn’t just look at her legs which aren’t even a little
covered by an ironically short grey frilly skirt by going over to the water
cooler and pouring himself a cup of water. Actually he pretends not to have
noticed her at all. This is probably because deep down he knows what she wants
but also feels the performance of her desire as a challenge and that noticing
now would be the same as losing. All of this is ‘implied.’
Next to the water cooler is a table with a
collection of newspapers and magazines. Their covers are blank.
“So much suffering in the world,” the man
says, looking at them and shaking his head compassionately.
The girl reaches into her purse, pulls out a
cigarette pack and a lighter, and lights up.
He notices. “What the - Amy you can’t smoke
here! Put that f_cking thing out!”
She keeps right on smoking. He gets up and
smacks the cigarette out of her hand. She stands up and looks him in the eye. “What
the hell is wrong with you, Amy?”
“Mr. Johnson, I need to talk to you,” she
says.
“You don’t have an appointment with me.”
“I’ve been waiting here for an hour and Mr.
Davis hasn’t shown up. So you can be my counselor.”
“Amy, you need to make an appointment. I’m
sure Mr. Davis will show up soon. Now get the hell out of here. You should be
in class.”
“Look you’re a counselor. It’s your job to
help me. Mr. Edwards is a f_g and won’t pass me. So what are you going to do
about it?”
“What do you want me to do, Amy? You don’t
do your homework. You don’t put in any effort at all. He told me himself you’re
his worst student.”
“Just tell me what I can do to get an A?”
she says.
“You’re so hot but there’s nothing I can do
Amy. Go on now.”
They have a moment where neither of them
move or speak.
“Go on,” he says again, very quietly.
Amy pushes Mr. Johnson down on the sofa and
tries to mount him. He acts pissed even though he is clearly letting her do
this.
“What the f_ck!”
She puts his hands on her a_s.
“F_ck!”
She starts grinding on his crotch.
“I could lose my job for this, Amy!”
Like he just reminded himself of something,
he pushes her off his lap. She sits on the couch armrest opposite him and
spreads her legs. “Don’t be a p_ssy like Mr. Edwards, Mr. Johnson,” she says,
rubbing herself obscenely.
“Anyone could walk in here!”
“Don’t you want this hot p_ssy?”
“I don’t believe this!”
“I want that A, Mr. Johnson.”
“Look at you! You’re not even wearing
panties!”
“I’m not leaving until I get that A.”
“This is so wrong,” Mr. Johnson says as he
massages his enormous c_ck through his pants.
Amy walks over to him and he stands up,
gasping like he’s going to have a heart attack. She kneels down in front of
him.
“So f_cking wrong,” he says.
She pulls his c_ck out and starts slapping
it against her cheeks. “You want to f_ck this face? Huh?” It is a rhetorical
question.
She puts it in her mouth and starts bobbing
her head back and forth with her eyes closed like she’s listening to a really
good song.
He takes the rest of his clothes off while
she sucks him. Tie, shirt, and blazer pile up on the couch one after the other.
A blank white wife beater keeps his ’70s chest hair and bowling ball gut from
being present in an offensive or challenging manner. She makes little gagging
noises as his c_ck hits the back of her throat over and over again.
She comes up for air. Little strings of spit
and c_m dribble from her mouth and land on her chest.
“Take off your shirt so I can see those
t_ts,” he says as he starts taking off her shirt.
“Yeah!” she says, “do it!” in between
mouthfuls of c_ck, as he’s slapping her t_ts. Every time her mouth lets go of
his penis it makes a humorously loud popping sound.
“Oh, f_ck,” she says.
“Ah, f_ck,” he says.
“Don’t you wish this was yours?” she says
into the camera.
She’s riding him. She goes slow at first,
presumably so the viewer can dwell on the sight of his c_ck sliding slowly in
and out of her c_nt.
“Uhhh oh yeah!” he says.
“F_ck yeah,” she says.
They go on about similar things.
She f_cks him faster. He pulls his c_ck out
while spreading her a_scheeks open with his hands, so that the waxed skin of
her perineum stretches thin like silly putty and the viewer gets a clear view
up both her holes, which are empty. Then he slams his c_ck back inside her and
they keep f_cking.
Mr. Johnson’s a_shole, which
counterintuitively is not much hairier than Amy’s, is mostly obscured by his
fat a_scheeks, jiggling even though he is sitting on them.
“Is that p_ssy tight enough to get an A?
Huh?” she says.
“Uhhh!” he says.
“You’re all f_cking alike aren’t you? You
can’t resist this tight p_ssy, can you?” she says, acting really turned on by
the intensity of the f_cking.
“You’re going to get such a good f_cking
grade!” he says.
New position. Her on her knees on the couch
with her a_s in the air as he f_cks her standing from behind. Both of them are
still wearing their socks. His modestly hairy balls slap against her cl_t. She
makes fists and closes her eyes and screams things like “F_ck me! Yeah, f_ck
that p_ssy! F_ck it!”
She opens her eyes. “You want this p_ssy
too!” she screams into the camera.
The whole area from her p_ssy to her a_shole
is visibly glazed, sort of like a doughnut right after the glazing process.
Eating her out. He laughs when he sees her
a_shole twitch.
Mish spread eagle. From underneath their
f_cking looks, to this reviewer, like a machine made out of skin. A perpetual
motion self-reflexive Rube Goldberg device cranked up to its maximum setting.
From a distance it looks like two people
f_cking and yelling things.
It feels like this reviewer’s lubed-up hand
squeezing this reviewer’s c_ck.
“Oh sh_t baby, I’m gonna c_m,” Mr. Johnson
says suddenly, pulling out and jerking himself. His semi-hard c_ck spining
around crazily as he does so.
Amy gets on her knees in front of him and
smiles and opens her mouth.
“Uhhhh, uhhhhh, uhhhh!” he says, jerking and
jerking.
This reviewer c_ms before he does, hard,
ecstatically, everywhere. But this reviewer doesn’t make any noise.
“Cover that face, motherfucker!” she says.
Her left hand playing with his balls.
“OHHH! OHHHH! OHHH!! YEAAHHH!” he says. A
few thick drops of c_m smack against her cheek and run down her face. “OOOH!!
UUUHHH!”
Amy cups some of it in her hands and holds
it up to the camera. The rest collects in a glossy film around her mouth and
drips off of her chin. She holds it up in her hands and she laughs and laughs
and laughs.
“Oh baby, you got that A,” he says, “you got
it.”
“Did I Mr. Johnson?”
“Yeah, baby, you sure did.”
For a while everything is black. Then it isn’t.
There are two different people in a
classroom. One is a young, fit male with glasses. He is the teacher. The girl
is a little bit chubby and has implants. She is dressed like a Catholic
Schoolgirl. Sometimes this reviewer actually likes dialogue. This reviewer
likes it when there’s no acting and no lines or sometimes when there are but
they’re not trying to act or they’re so bad it doesn’t make any difference. But
the dialogue in this scene is boring so, now there isn’t any. This reviewer is
unfamiliar with the Task of Criticism. The girl is blonde. Her facial
expression doesn’t change when she rubs her c_nt. This reviewer’s c_ck starts
getting hard again. She sucks him. Then he f_cks her.
He f_cks her like. He f_cks her like
nothing. He just f_cks her. And she just gets f_cked.
Ryan Vu lives in Durham, North Carolina. He does not believe in free market capitalism or the sovereign individual even though they support his existence. His blog can be found at amstranger.blogspot.com, where he justifies that position over and over again.