“Holy… holy shiiiiit…” Jeremiah loses his ability to speak as his orgasm racks his body. Actually loses his ability to speak. His body shudders above mine a few times before he collapses on top of me, spent.
His breathing back to normal, he lifts his head and kisses me on the mouth, letting his lips rest there. Content.
“How many orgasms did you have, baby?” he whispers, gazing down on me sweetly.
“Um, I lost count after three.” A giggle escapes my smiling lips—an actual giggle, because who knew the idea of voyeurism would be such a turn-on to me?
Not me, and certainly not my husband.
So maybe technically a sex tape isn’t voyeurism. But there is a camera involved, and it’s definitely risqué—two things that could be found under the definition of voyeurism.
Earlier this evening, I decided to bring the video camera out of hiding, casually set it up in the corner of the room, and pitch the idea of making a sex tape to Jeremiah. He promptly jumped me from behind and had his naughty, naughty way with me.
It was the most amazing sex we have had in weeks.
My face gets hot just thinking about it.
Jeremiah kisses me again before slowly pulling out and climbing off the bed. I watch his fine white ass make its way to our bathroom, and throw my head back on the pillow when he disappears inside.
“I can’t wait to watch this video and see what we look like on camera,” he calls out, grabbing a towel off the rack and cleaning himself up.
Wait. Did he just say…?
“You turned the camera on?” My eyes dart to the video camera sitting on the tripod and notice the blinking red light. How did I not see that? How could I have missed the little red light? Ugh. I was completely distracted by all the hot sexy sex steaming up my bedroom windows.
Distracted when my inner porn star came out to play.
But I didn’t think we’d actually had the camera on!
Jeremiah comes sauntering back into the room with a big grin on his face, stepping into his boxers. “Well, yeah.” He actually rolls his eyes at me while walking up to the camera and turning it off. “I thought that’s why you set up the tripod at the foot of the bed.”
“I did. I mean… I was suggesting it. I just didn’t realize we were going to actually do it.” I pull the bedsheet protectively over myself, suddenly feeling exposed.
Jeremiah immediately grabs the sheet and yanks it off me. “Stop hiding, babe. Now you have me worried that I shouldn’t have turned the camera on. I’m sorry. I thought you knew I had started recording.”
I wave my hand in dismissal and roll to my side. “No, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m actually kind of relieved I didn’t know.”
He quirks an eyebrow as he lies down, mirroring my pose to face me. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I was pretty self-conscious thinking about my naked body being on TV.” My voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.
“Babe,” he starts, the tone of his voice telling me he’s going to try to make me feel better. I interrupt him before he goes any further.
“But I never had the chance to get nervous or think too hard about what I looked like because I didn’t know it was on. So in a way, you did me a favor. It let me be… free.”
“So you’re not mad?”
“No. I’m actually proud of myself for going through with it—proud of us, I should say. How not-boring are we?”
Jeremiah breaks into a smile. “Good,” he says as he leans forward, kissing me again. “Because I am dying to watch this video!” He jumps up from the bed and begins fiddling with the CD in the camera before inserting it into our ancient DVD player.
Note to self: I really need to get our family a Blu-ray player for Christmas.
After pulling my jammies back on, Jeremiah settles himself back onto the bed, arms around me, and points the remote in the direction of the TV. “You ready to see us make some movie magic, babe?”
I snort. “I may be hiding my eyes the whole time, but yeah. Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
Jeremiah leans forward and presses play. It takes a second for the white screen to change colors, roaring to life. The moment of truth.
And there I am.
On TV.
In my cotton PJs, turning down the bed, my back to the camera.
“So that’s why I didn’t see you turn it on,” I say.
We watch as on-screen Jeremiah comes up behind me, moves my hair out of the way, and starts kissing the back of my neck. Just how I like it. I watch as my on-screen persona leans her head back onto his chest and moans.
“Oh no,” I say, hiding my eyes behind my hand. “I can’t watch.”
“Shh,” he says, waving his hand at me to quiet down. “I’m trying to pay attention to the movie.”
I quirk an eyebrow and look up at him. “Because there’s so much dialogue to interrupt, right?” I say sarcastically.
“Shh!”
“Fine,” I grumble, settling back onto his chest. “Jeez.”
We watch as Jeremiah continues to kiss up and down my neck, shoulders, and spine. Then off comes my shirt and I’m topless on TV.
Holy hell, I’m topless on TV!
I watch in fascination as Jeremiah continues to kiss all over my body. A body that, even I have to admit, looks way better on screen than I anticipated. Part of me wants to let Janine watch the movie just so she can see the results actually working out can have.
“I think I’m getting turned on again just watching this,” Jeremiah says, eyes riveted to the television as his on-screen persona strips the rest of my clothes off and lays me down on the bed. Porn-star Becky then uses her toes to pull Jeremiah’s boxers off and kick them across the room.
“Did you see that move?” I say excitedly. “I didn’t know it looked so sexy when I did it!”
Another thing I’ll have to share with Janine!
Jeremiah laughs. “See, babe? You’re really sexy when we go at it!”
“I am!” I resist the urge to clap with delight.
“We should make movies every day.” His voice is thoughtful, and I can almost hear the wheels turning inside his head.
“Don’t push your luck, buddy.”
“Hey.” He chuckles. “You never know when the job market is going to plummet and you’ll need a back-up plan.”
“Being porn stars is our back up plan?” I giggle.
“Have you seen some of those porn movies?” he says, looking down at me. “We look way better than some of the things I’ve seen.”
“Don’t remind me,” I shudder. “You think they look nasty on TV. You should see them live and in person.”
We watch the rest of the movie in silence, which is only about ten minutes long from start to finish. Ten minutes doesn’t sound like a long time, but when you’re dog tired from chasing five kids around all day, there’s no way for hanky-panky to last much longer than that without falling asleep. And it’s a major kill to the husband’s ego when you fall asleep during sex.
Jeremiah turns off the TV and reaches over to turn out the lamp as well, plunging us into darkness. Once he settles in, I roll over and snuggle up next to his chest.
“Thanks for turning on the video camera,” I whisper into his chest as he strokes my hair. “That was more fun than I expected.”
“Every time is fun with you, babe,” he says and kisses the top of my head. I’m so content that I fall asleep without even rolling over to my side of the bed.
The next thing I know, I’m hearing the sounds of early morning… Owen playing a video game downstairs, the twins helping each other get the cereal down for breakfast, Sophie cooing in her crib, and Jacob sitting on our floor watching cartoons.
Those cartoons sound really strange.
They sound like me. Or Jeremiah.
They… sound like me and Jeremiah.
They sound like me and Jeremiah having sex.
Holy shit!
OHMYGOD IT SOUNDS LIKE HE’S WATCHING OUR SEX TAPE!
“Jeremiah!” I shriek as I launch myself out of bed, grabbing the remote out of Jacob’s hands and throwing it back at Jeremiah in a panic.
It hits him on the chest and he sits straight up in bed. “I’m up! I’m up! What’s happening?”
“You never put the movie away last night. You know—The. Movie.” I hiss as I bend over, covering Jacob’s eyes. Men are so clueless sometimes. “Turn off the fucking TV!” I screech.
Jeremiah’s eyes widen as my f-bomb registers. He knows when I start dropping those he’s in some serious shit. Especially if I’m dropping them in front of the kids. He fumbles with the remote and starts frantically pressing buttons. “I’m trying, babe! I’m trying! Why won’t the TV turn off? Why did you throw the remote at me?”
“Because I panicked!”
We’re both panicking now.
Jeremiah’s hands begin digging through the sheets at a lightning pace. “It’s the wrong remote! Get the other remote! You lobbed the wrong remote at me!”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?”
“Hey, mom! Do you know where my new Minecraft game is?” My head swings towards the door as I simultaneously hear Owen walking up the stairs towards our room and the loud moaning from my impending orgasm on the TV. My head swings back to look at Jeremiah, whose eyes have widened in horror. Complete horror.
He begins frantically mashing buttons on a different remote this time, trying to get our nakedness off the screen.
“Did you hear me, Mom?”
It all happens in slow motion from there.
As Owen steps foot into the room, Jeremiah launches himself off the bed and into the wall, unplugging the power strip, and essentially shutting down the TV, DVD player, cable box, stereo, lamp and any other random electric devices that are plugged in.
Crisis averted.
Or so we think.
The impact of Jeremiah’s shoulder on the wall apparently knocked the TV loose. I watch in horror as the TV slides off the wall and crashes to the floor.
“You broke the TV?” Janine screeches as she holds on to the cart I’m pushing in an attempt to not fall over as laughter takes over her body.
“Hey,” I say, grabbing a box of size three diapers off the bottom shelf of the baby aisle and sliding them underneath the cart. “I’m just glad it slid straight down the wall and didn’t fall towards Jacob.”
“You moms. Always worried about the welfare of your children.” She gives me a wink and obediently follows me down the center aisle. “Speaking of the little monster, how in the hell did he get your movie on in the first place?”
I sigh and make my way around the corner, heading towards the groceries. “He comes into our room every Saturday morning to watch cartoons. Apparently Jeremiah turned the TV off last night but didn’t switch modes or something. So when Jacob turned it on this morning….”
“Surprise! Mommy’s naked tatas on TV!” she yells, drawing the attention of several elderly people doing their price comparisons. One woman with a stack of coupons narrows her eyes at us.
We keep walking.
“Would you keep it down?” I hiss at her and roll my eyes.
“Oh, whatever. They’re lucky they can hear us at all without cranking up their hearing aids.”
“Anyway, I’m not sure how much of it he saw. But it was enough that he’s been stealing the twins’ Barbie’s all day. We keep finding them in compromising positions.”
“Your mother-in-law is going to flove that next time she babysits.”
“I know, right? Tell me about it.” I grab a cantaloupe from the display and hold it up for her inspection. “Does this smell ripe to you?”
She takes a big whiff. “I have no idea what a ripe cantaloupe is supposed to smell like.”
“You’re no help,” I complain as I put the fruit down in the basket. Janine grabs a handful of grapes and starts eating them. “Are you planning on buying those?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, Officer Worrywart. I’ll pay for the grapes.”
“They charge by the pound…”
Janine huffs and sets the grapes in the cart. “Happy now?”
I grunt, and she gives me a nudge with her elbow. “Why did you bring me here, anyway? You said we were shopping for my date.”
“I know, I know,” I say guiltily. “I just won’t have another chance to go grocery shopping this week.”
“Why didn’t we just go to a regular grocery store, then? You know I hate coming to Walmart. You know when you drag me here I buy too many hair products. Not to mention it’s all old people…”
I shrug noncommittally. “I figured we could head over to the beauty aisle to see if there’s anything you want to get before your date.” Janine can never resist a new lipstick color to match her mood.
“Ooh!” she says excitedly. “I was hoping to get some lipstick that’ll brighten up my face in this dreary weather. Fresh snow might be pretty, but once it’s been on the ground for a while, it starts to lose its appeal. Now everything just feels dirty and grimy.”
I snort and half listen as she goes on a tirade about the slush puddles, future forecasts, and her desire to move to a tropical island when she retires to avoid living through “another godforsaken winter.”
“I mean, Jamaica is nice, but it’s got such a bad reputation,” she prattles on. “Maybe the Virgin Islands or something… OUCH!” she squeals. I turn to see her bouncing up and down on one foot. “Did you see that? That grandma just ran over me! I told you I hate coming here!”
“Get your foot out of the aisle, floozy!” the offender yells over her shoulder.
Janine’s eyes widen and her jaw drops open. “Do you kiss your grandkids with that mouth?” she yells back.
I can’t help but start laughing as I open the freezer door and pull out a package of peas.
“Why are you laughing?” Janine asks. “That hurt!”
“Because it’s karma for always making fun of the old people in Walmart,” I say as I push the cart towards the make-up aisle. “Come on. Let’s get you some new lipstick for your big date.”