Home Video in Black and White

Editing was half the fun.

Maybe more than half. Running through the video to select and cut out sections, digitally splice them back together, working out what worked on screen and what to just delete, allows you to relive the scene itself.

You can fast forward anything that drags, or watch in slow motion what really turns you on. You can chose a sound-track that suits the style of fucking, hard rock for faster thrusting, or soft classical for close ups, slowed to let the viewer really take it in. Not that we had close ups first time around. Not even different camera angles.

It was Sarah's idea to make our own. She had caught me watching videos on porn sites on my laptop. Instead of being upset, she had been curious, and we had started watching them together. From the comfort of our couch. Cast onto our sixty-five inch wall mounted screen, instead of the thirteen inches I had been privately watching on.

Not just watch. Sarah liked to comment too.

"They're not married," she said, the first time we were watching one together.

"Probably not," I agreed. "If you were married and living in that place together would you put together a porn video and put it online?"

It was a Penthouse video. The bedroom was more luxury hotel suite than standard private home. A great backdrop to a beautiful couple fucking one another, but not the way most people live, or look.

The video cut to his cock head, opening her hairless cunt. Full screen. On our large screen television his cock head was now football sized, her cunt was stretched wide by its massive flange. Just as well she was as slick and wet as she obviously was.

"Plus, there is no way they took that shot themselves," my wife commented. "There's obviously a cameraman getting in and close to take that."

When it came to the cum-shot, she spotted something else. It was repeated several times, from different angles, but the guy only really came the once, directing most of his semen into his partner's open mouth.

"That had to be more than one camera," she said.

"You really know how to spoil the erotic mood," I laughed.

"Well come on," she said. "Aren't there any that are a bit more realistic? How is anyone supposed to compete with models like that?"

By realistic, Sarah meant real people, normal couples, you and me, videoing themselves. The answer was, there were. Plenty of them. The platform I had found had literally thousands of videos, catalogued by themes, couples, threesomes, gang-bangs, cum-shots, mixed race, cuckold, young with old, blindfolds, restrained. Whatever you could think of, it was there. It mixed professionally made stuff with paid porn stars, with videos that were nothing like the same quality, poor lighting, bad framing, muffled sound, and not so beach toned bodies.

So Sarah had a point. The professionally made videos were part of the body-shaming industry. I could sympathise with her. I do not have a wash-board stomach or pecs that stand out inches proud, so I could not compete with the guys onscreen. Sarah, presumably felt the same about the perfect figures of the women they were fucking.

Not that we are Homer and Marge. I do not have a beer gut, and Sarah is quite a looker. I love her body, not least that she has legs to die for, and breasts that are pleasantly full and still sit proud without support. She may not be the front page of Vogue, but I love her face, her high cheek-bones, blue eyes, and succulent lips, and the way her hair tumbles down to just below her shoulders. Even if it is all natural and not styled by a salon, it all looks good to me.

I had been watching more the Penthouse quality videos, and I guess another difference is the clothes the actors wore. Skin-tight dresses, high class lingerie, leather-wear. My wife wears standard issue jeans and tops, summer dresses, with her two or three clubbing dresses kept for special occasions. It fast became clear that Sarah wanted to watch couples more like ourselves, not fantasy.

"Try that one," she said, as my mouse hovered over the sixteen stills of potential videos offered on the screen.

A nondescript bedroom, the full bed in the still photo, the woman naked on a plain white sheet, wearing a mask that kept her face from being recognisable. I clicked the mouse.

The guy appeared, went down on her, his head pixelated, a side view, her leg obscuring his head. She writhed around a little. Soon he moved up her body, kissing his way as he went, until he was ready to penetrate. He fucked her for five minutes. They came together. Then the screen went black.

"Play it again," Sarah asked.

I started it again from the beginning, intrigued at why she wanted to watch what had been a pretty boring video.

"That's real," she said, as if the other scenes of couples fucking one another had been fake.

"I mean, my guess is they're married, or living together at least," she said. "Look, photos on the bedside table. Normal bedroom. That's where they sleep. The camera isn't moving. It's on a stand, or leaning against something. They're just recording it themselves. It's real."

Her hand was on my leg, but moving north. It found my cock. Unzipped my fly. Angled its way inside. Gently stroked my slowly thickening shaft. She slid from the couch, moved round in front of me, eased my cock out, and started licking at the head.

Happily married for five years, our sex life had been bordering on the routine. Maybe that was the reason for my casual viewing on my own. We always used the bedroom, so this was different. This was my wife giving me head in the lounge. Not just head. When she had me good and ready she climbed onto me, knees on either side, skirt hitched to her waist. She eased her panties to one side and lowered herself onto my rearing cock head.

No need for any foreplay on my part. Her cunt was wet. My cock slid in so nicely. We fucked right where we were. More than the five minutes that the couple had lasted on the screen. Sarah gasping with pleasure as she used her thighs to lift and lowered herself, again and again. My own pleasure almost unbearable, the nerve endings in my cock head wanting her to slow, to ease back from the almost agonising intensity, yet still wanting more.

She came. Crying out and screaming the way she used to in the first years of our marriage. Shaking and shuddering and shivering and trembling. Grabbing her own breasts through her blouse and bra and squeezing the flesh as if she wanted to torment her nipple stubs, but could not quite find them underneath her clothes.

I came. Semen spewing from me, shooting through my shaft, hitting the glans and jetting through the eye. I sensed it filling her cunt. Overfilling. Oozing from her. Staining the fabric of my trousers. Not that that mattered. Not then. Not until later, and inconvenience of the dry cleaner visit and the cleaning charge.

"Wow," Sarah groaned, as she came back down from heaven. "That was so good!"

Which is why we started watching porn together every night.

I still preferred the professionally made stuff. I even carried on browsing it when Sarah was not around. Just for amusement. Not to masturbate to. My semen was strictly for my wife, not to be spilled for selfish pleasure.

Sarah liked the amateur stuff. The real people, in real homes, real bedrooms, real lounges, real showers, real kitchen tables.

We analysed the videos. Sarah loved that part of it.

"I can't believe she sucks him off that long. Did you get the way she took his balls in her mouth? Should I do that to you?"

"How did they get that shot? I mean you can see his tongue right at her clit."

"You'd think they would have made the bedroom a bit more tidy!"

"There's got to be someone else there. Do you think they invite someone in to video them?"

We would take it in turns, after twenty minutes or so of joint viewing, to go down on each other. Sarah allowed me to watch the high-definition porn of my choosing while she lapped and sucked my head and shaft. She would watch her 'real people', while I licked her out. Then, when we were ready, we would fuck.

Sarah even liked to do what she had been watching on the screen. Including sixty-nine. Including doggy. Including her bent over the back of the couch and taking it from behind. Including lying on our sides and facing one another, and her leg crossing over mine to guve me access to her cunt. Including her legs bent to touch her ears with the sides of her calves, while I nailed her to the couch.

Good fucking. Reinvigorating our sex life. Then one video inspired my wife to take things one step further. A 'real-life' wife with a pretty good figure, blonde, like Sarah, on the petite side, like her, and with pleasantly full breasts and wide areolas, similar to Sarah's own.

Sarah gave a running commentary, right from the first scene, full screen on the wife's body, lying on her back, legs in the air, a guy already with his cock onside her, slowly thrusting, just his groin on screen.

"Do you think it's real?" she asked.

"It looks real to me," I said.

"I mean, the way she's looking at the camera, with that little smile on her face, saying 'look at me'. Do you think she's really making it to tease her husband?"

That was how the site had billed the video. "Cheating wife makes video for her husband".

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe it's her husband fucking her, and they're just pretending that she's cheating, to get more views."

"So who's filming them?"

The answer came on screen. Sarah almost laughed.

"Did you see the selfie stick?" she said. "I can't believe she's doing that!"

The screen changed. She had her legs bent right back, almost to her ears. The shot was taken from the side. Her arm was stretched out towards the camera, just her upper arm visible, but it was pretty clear that she was using the selfie stick to take the shot.

"I love the way she keeps looking at the camera," Sarah said. "Those teasing looks, I mean. It could be real. He might not be her husband."

She reached for my cock. We were in robes, and she was just feeling me through the fabric. She grinned.

"You're hard," she said.

"I always get hard," I pointed out. "And she does look a bit like you."

"Fucking someone else?" my wife stated the obvious.

"Or her husband," I said.

The scene changed again. Still taken from the side. She was on her knees, bent forwards, arms out, head turned to keep looking at the camera, while he was fucking her from behind.

"You can see both her arms now," Sarah said. "No selfie stick. Maybe someone else is filming them after all. It could actually be her husband."

"The shot's static," I said. "No camera jerk. They've put it on a stand or something. Then got back to fucking."

A close up, taken from above, the guy's cock sliding in and out of her cunt, the star of her anus winking at the camera.

"He's got to be holding it now," my wife said. "They've obviously worked it all out in advance."

It carried on like that, until near the end of what was a thirty minute video. Back to a side shot, but no longer on the bed. She was kneeling on the floor. He was standing, his cock still hard, while she was giving him head.

He came. Copiously. Some of it hitting her face, some jetting straight into her open mouth. He was still spewing the last spurts when she turned to the camera, opened her mouth to show the semen gathered there, and very deliberately swallowed it all down.

"Do you think he came in her mouth because it wasn't her husband?" Sarah asked, as the video played on. "I mean, I know they were fucking with no condom, but he might have been holding back in case,..."

"You think?" I asked her. "You really think she'd take that kind of risk? Look at the screen."

She was turning round, back on her hands and knees, but on the floor now, and he was kneeling behind her, his cock still hard enough to slide inside her cunt.

"You don't think there's enough semen on his cock to get her pregnant if she's not on the pill?" I asked.

"Maybe," Sarah said. "I still think that it was real. That was not her husband."

"Well it's your husband who is going to fuck his wife," I said.

She grinned.

"Wait," she said. "I just want to try something."

She actually set it up, her mobile, putting the camera on record, leaning it on our coffee table with a couple of books for support. Then we fucked. Later we watched our private video. USB connected the mobile to the lap-top, which cast it to the sixty-five, and there we were, life size, naked, fucking like rabbits.

"You want me to upload it?" I joked.

"Not with our faces showing!" Sarah answered, with not a moment's hesitation. "We need to get some masks."

That was when I realised that she could be serious. Amazon confirmed it. Two days later, grey plastic packaging arrived. A pair of masks.

We used the bedroom. We planned. I did the technical work. Sarah decided on the script, the action sequences. The first video, in the lounge, had been dimly lit, and the angle of the mobile phone had been a little off. I brought in some table lamps to augment the ceiling light and checked the position of the mobile on the dressing table, adjusting it until the bed was central on the screen.

Sarah decided I would sit facing the mobile phone. She would kneel on the bed beside me and suck my cock. That way the camera would get to see her mouth going down on my cock. Then she would mount me, and ride me, and we would get a shot of the head opening her up, and of my shaft while she was riding it.

After a bit she would dismount, so that I could adjust the phone camera's zoom, to get a close up shot when I lay down again, of just my legs and cock in the frame, and she would mount me again, and resume her ride. After I came, she would lean forward, and she wanted my semen to be dripping from her when my cock slipped out. My wife had suddenly become a natural director of hardcore porn.

Which meant no sex, for one entire day, to make sure there was enough build up of semen to get the money shot. Or is that the honey shot?

My first sentence of this piece, editing is half the fun. Fucking to the script that Sarah had prepared was of course good fun as well. More than good fun. Exquisite sex. Holding back that day, I came so hard I was groaning with delight. Sarah came so beautifully as well, in harmony with me. Perfect timing. Coming in unison. All the more intense from knowing we were recording the event.

But editing was something else again. Seeing Sarah as someone else would have done, bent over me, one hand guiding my cock, her mouth enveloping the head, her full breasts pendulous beside my hip, swaying gently as she sucked, was just incredible. Watching her mount me, was beautiful.

Then the closer shots, when she was riding me, spoiled slightly by inadequate lighting below her butt, where my cock was buried in her cunt, were still jaw dropping. The grand finale, Sarah leaning forwards, my cock no longer rigid, sliding out, and semen dripping from her labia onto my shaft, the best scene of them all.

I edited out the bits that were not needed, in particular Sarah dismounting, waiting while I got up, erection bobbing, went to the mobile, adjusted the zoom, got back in position, and Sarah mounting me again. All that had to go. An app I had downloaded to my laptop gave me all the tools you need. I did the job, added a layer of music backing, and sat back and watched it all again.

It was good, I thought. As good as any we had watched. The choice of masks was interesting. Sarah's decision. Batman and catwoman. Not just eye masks, but full head.

Sarah had played ultra safe. She had decided that with her blonde hair and blue eyes, even with an eye mask she would be too recognisable. With the full head catwoman mask she could tuck her hair up. She had also chosen hers to have no eye holes. Just her nose and mouth and chin would be on show. No blue eyes. Too risky.

She looked cute. The cat ears suited her. Feline. Sexy. Fuckable. Photogenic too. Her body loved the camera. The absence of eye holes in her mask, not only meant her beautiful blue eyes would not be seen by anyone we knew, but also left her blind. Which led to shades of grey. The bondage, domination kind of thing.

My batman mask that bit more macho. My body not as muscular as his, but good enough to pull it off, we thought. Eye-holes in mine, so unlike Sarah, I could see. Which is why it was my role to change the zoom mid-way through the scene.

Yet while watching my newly edited version of the scene again, I also had another, not so comfortable thought about the cat mask, and a kind of freedom it afforded through the denial of the sense of sight. Behind the imitation leather covering her head and eyes, my wife could use her imagination in whatever way she chose. I started wondering exactly what she had been thinking while we fucked.

Brad Pitt? She had a thing for him. Bruce Willis? Older, but she loved any film he was in. Tom Hardy? She could have been imagining that any of those men was fucking her instead of me.

Or just a stranger. A cheating wife. Making a video for her husband. To turn him on. Maybe make him slightly jealous. Play with his head. Underline that she was still the kind of woman other men would fuck as well as him.

No condom. No protection. Semen spewed right into her. That shot of my semen dripping from her cunt. It could be anyone. She might be wanting that. I remembered that video she had analysed so much, if it was real or not, if the woman's husband was acting like he was another guy, or if the wife was really fucking someone new.

We watched the home made video together a bit later on that evening, not just once, but several times

"It's amazing," Sarah said. "Did you upload it?"

"Not yet," I said. "I thought you'd want to see it first."

"You can't tell it's us, can you?" she asked.

"I doubt it," I said. "I'd say our bedroom is more recognisable than anything."

"Which doesn't matter," Sarah said. "I mean my parents are not going to find us on that site by accident, are they? Or anyone else who's been here and we've shown around."

"So...?"

"So, if it's okay with you, it's okay with me," she said.

"Okay," I agreed.

I got up. It is easier working with the laptop and the mouse on a table than from the comfort of a sofa. I went through the steps to upload, and the site did what it needed to do in response, confirmed it had been successful, and that it would be checked and would be live within twenty four hours.

We went to bed. And fucked again.

The next day Sarah was watching it when I got back from work.

"Fourteen thousand views," she greeted me with. "Forty-three likes. Six comments. Listen to this,..."

"Thanks guys, great video, love you both!"

"I just love how I can see the cum oozing from your cunt!"

"Lucky sod, getting to fuck that slut. I hope you got her up the duff!"

"Love that you're doing it online, no condom. Are you really married though?"

"Loved it. I hope you do some more. Maybe closer up next time!"

We watched it together later on. Discussing what we could do next time to make it even better. Better lighting. Maybe Sarah in lingerie. An even closer close up. We fucked, of course. Sarah on top. More semen oozing. This was all hot stuff, knowing that so many people had now seen us, that watching us had turned them on.

We played around with what we had. The table lamps put on stools and on the floor to get the lighting right where it was needed. A small table right up by the bed to hold the mobile phone. We practiced. Fucked around. Checked clips we took. Adjusted angles. Kicked over lamps and stools while practicing, more than once. Laughed, while all the time we both were deadly serious. We wanted to crack the home porn scene. To get it absolutely right.