Into the Red Zone

Her smile vanishes as she leaves the sponge atop the hood, then folds her arms against her chest. "What sort of video?" Her eyes bore into him as if daring him to answer.

"You've made more than one?" He could kick himself for asking such a fucking, stupid question. He always does that when he's nervous, asks dumb questions, shoves his foot in his mouth. "That's not what I mean. What I mean...″ He shakes his head, afraid to proceed.

"Yes? I'm waiting." She keeps her position, glaring at him. Then, after a few seconds of silence, she speaks up. "You know what, Mr. Horvath? I think I'd better let my dad handle this."

She turns and starts to leave, when he says, "Look, let's forget it, okay? I made a mistake." She stops and looks back, then strides quickly toward her house.

Glenn knows he's in trouble. He can either face her bad-ass dad or hightail out of there. But then what? Jim Martin might be the sort of guy who doesn't let things go so easy. He might be at Glenn's door in minutes. He started something that Jim might finish; and his finish might not feel so good. One thing's for sure—Marissa's hostile reaction leaves little doubt in Glenn's mind that she and Jim are indeed the dad-daughter couple in the video. He makes his way across the street, almost shaking with angst.

*****

Marissa can relate. Her angst is on the flip side of the same coin. Her dad had been wrong—they'd been recognized. After telling him about her encounter, she says, "No, he didn't spell it out, didn't say which video. But we both know what he was referring to, dad. He's on to us. So much for anonymity." She rubs her goose-bumped arms, shivering from the AC.

Jim's in shorts and sweat shirt, relaxing in a La-Z-Boy, feet propped up, watching MMA on his big screen TV. "Calm down, Marissa, it's not as serious as you think. He doesn't really know unless we admit it. You didn't and I'm sure as hell not going to say anything. Relax."

"How do you know he won't blab to our neighbors? I mean, we don't really know this guy."

"Horvath would then have to tell them where he saw the video, thereby incriminating himself as a porn pervert. Anybody he tells might think he has designs on his own daughter. Won't happen. Now, before you catch cold, why don't you go finish washing the car."

Marissa's concerns soon become Jim's concerns. He finds it difficult to enjoy what he's watching while thinking about what she said. Suppose Glenn Horvath does blab to neighbors? Whomever he tells could produce a chain reaction that could reach neighbors he calls friends and then up to the community association. He and Marissa would be shamed, possibly forced out. Worse, it could give Brenda's lawyers additional ammunition. He's starting to feel almost paranoid. Thoughts of violence race through his brain, thoughts of doing to this punk Horvath what he sees these dudes doing to each other in the octagon. He's always heard that the best defense is offense. Maybe he should take that lesson to Glenn Horvath.

He sleeps on it, then decides to act. Marissa doesn't think it's a good idea. She says, "You can't be sure if he'll do anything, dad. If he does tell, then beat his ass. Otherwise, I'd let it go."

Sticking with his gut, Jim shows up at Glenn's door. It's early evening, still light out and still hot. Jim wears a tight black t-shirt, shorts and sneakers. His tattooed arms bulge. Jim figures it might intimidate his slightly built neighbor. He's sure that's the case when Glenn opens the door, looking at Jim like a frightened puppy dog. "Mind if I come in?"

Glenn stands in the doorway, sandwiched between the door and door frame. "What's this about?"

"I think you know what this is about. You approached my daughter the other day regarding some video."

Glenn nods. "What about it?"

"First off, tell me what video you're referring to." Jim holds his arms by his sides, opens and closes his meaty hands as if he's exercising them with a forearm and wrist-building device.

"Look, it's probably all a mistake. Let's forget I even said anything."

Jim tries to make the most of Glenn's frightened state. "We can do that, pal, as long as you keep whatever you saw, whatever you THINK you saw, to yourself. Cause if word gets back to me otherwise...well, I think you know." Jim cracks his knuckles, flexes his ham hock-like forearms.

Glenn knows that Jim could crush him like a beer can if he wanted to. But he also doesn't like someone coming to his house, telling him what he can or cannot say. He's about to say something about that when wife Amber comes up behind him. "Glenn, what's going on?"

He turns around. "Nothing. Me and Jim are just having a little chat."

Amber, petite, standing barely five-two in her bare feet, the way she's dressed now, steps up behind her husband to get a better look. Jim's not so friendly affect makes her suspicious. "Yes, can we help you?"

Jim relaxes his shoulders and leans against the outside door frame. "As your hubby said, we're just having a little chat." He pauses to debate whether he should say more. But not for long: "Truth to tell, Mrs. Horvath, it's about Glenn keeping his mouth shut."

"Keeping his mouth shut about what?" Amber folds her arms against her chest and turns toward her 'hubby.' "Glenn, what's this about?" Her wary look morphs into one of alarm.

She's wearing tight green shorts and a loose-fitting white cotton shirt that drops below her short shorts. From most angles, it appears that the shirt is all she wears. Her grayish brown hair sits atop her head in a neat bun, with strands of it falling over her brown eyes. She's also braless, and Jim can't help but stare at her nipples pressed against the fabric. Jim's caught glimpses of Amber through the years, seen her coming and going. He's admired her from afar, always thought she looked great for a woman in her forties. Now he admires her closeup. He's also eyeing Glenn as well, anxious about what he might say next.

Glenn looks at his antagonist in the eye, now more angry than scared. In fact, he's mad as hell and he's not going to take it anymore! "It's about brutes like this guy who like to throw their weight around, who enjoy bullying other people. He wants me to keep my mouth shut about something that might get him and his daughter Marissa thrown out of this community."

Jim straightens up and balls his hands into fists. His eyes widen, big as silver dollars. "Don't make me do something we'll both regret," he warns.

"Will one of you please tell me what the hell's going on," Amber pleads. She ruffles her hair, utters an exasperated sigh. "What did he and Marissa do, Glenn? Stop playing games."

Jim can barely hold himself back when he sees Glenn's shit-eating grin. "I'm warning you," he barks, shoving a finger in his face.

"You're on my property, asshole," Glenn says. "Leave now or I call the cops. Maybe I should call them anyway for, well, you know what for."

Amber stamps her foot. "Glenn, for the final time—″

"And I bet you enjoyed every second of it," Jim interjects. "Why don't you tell your pretty wife here what sort of porn floats your boat these days."

Amber raises her voice and says, "How do you know what porn my husband watches? Do you two have a peer-to-peer file sharing thing going on?"

Glenn looks past Jim and sees someone crossing the street. "Better turn around, Jim," he says, "because here comes your other half. And she looks in a hurry to get here."

Jim sees Marissa jogging toward the house.

Amber sees her also. "Jim's other half?"

Glenn throws out a sarcastic chuckle. "More like his co-star, Amber."

"Listen you punk," Jim growls, "the only thing stopping me from ringing your scrawny little neck is the thought of being behind bars."

"Stop threatening my husband, you big galoot!"

Jim stares Amber down, then turns to see Marissa jog the final few yards up to the house. She's wearing white shorts, a peach-colored halter top and, like Amber, she's barefoot. She catches her breath, then says, "Dad, you know I didn't want you doing this."

While still glaring at Glenn, and through gritted teeth, he says, "Look, everything's fine, Marissa. And everything will stay fine so long as our would-be whistle-blowing neighbor here keeps his mouth shut."

Amber turns toward Marissa. "I still don't know what these two are arguing about. Can you please fill me in?"

Marissa ignores the question and takes one of Jim's hands. "Dad, let's leave. Now. Okay? Please."

"I'd take her advice," Glenn says. "At least one of you is talking sense."

Jim hesitates, then points his finger at Glenn for a parting shot. "And if YOU have any sense, you'll keep your mouth shut. Let's go, Marissa."

When they get inside, Amber says, "All right, Glenn, tell me what's going on with Jim and Marissa. I don't even want to know what he meant by the sort of porn that floats your boat. You can keep that to yourself."

Glenn tries to walk away, but Amber won't let him out of the living room. She grips his arm. "Not before you tell me what's what. I'm your wife, remember? Don't let that big galoot intimidate you."

"You really want to know? Okay, Jim and Marissa are incestuous lovers."

Amber shakes her head, utters a soft gasp. "And how the hell do you know that?"

"Because..." Revealing that would also reveal his taste in porn, something she just told him to keep to himself.

"Because...go on, Glenn, spit it out."

"Okay, you asked for it. Because they made a video and then uploaded it to a porn site I sometimes watch. I wasn't sure it was them until I approached Marissa. Just by her evasiveness I knew it was them. And Jim, the dumb idiot, all but gave it away outside."

Amber slowly nods her head. "And you watch that kind of sick, perverted stuff? It turns you on?"

"Look, you wanted to know, and I told you. Anyway, most of that stuff is roll play. Very few of the couples on those incest sites are actually related."

Momentarily, she processes the information, clenching her jaw, shaking her head. Then: "You know, Glenn, I can't help but wonder if you're thinking about doing the same thing with our daughter."

"Not at all, Amber, it doesn't work that way. The thought of jumping in bed with Kelly sickens me. That's going into the red zone, an area I'd never set foot in. But watching other dads and daughters is another matter. It's weird, I know, but trust me."

She raises her eyebrows. "I just hope it continues to sicken you, Glenn." She begins to walk away. Then: "By the way, what porn site is this video on, the one with Jim and Marissa?"

"Family Relations XXX. Why?"

"No special reason, just curious."

*****

What Amber Horvath didn't tell Glenn is that she's curious to the point of checking out the site herself. Incest! Ohmygod, can you imagine?! Relatives having sex! Parents having sex with their offspring, people created with their own their eggs and sperm! Freaky, but oh so fascinating. Her college courses in human sexuality never mentioned it, nor did her professors. Taboo indeed, even the mention of it, apparently. She's starting to feel like a hypocrite. She scolded her husband for watching that "sick, perverted stuff," and now she's thinking of doing the same thing. She's no prude when it comes to porn. She's watched it too, knew Glenn watched it, though she never guessed he got off on incest material. Like her, she assumed he watched "straight sex," nothing kinky, nothing particularly deviant, nothing that many would call perverted.

A few days after the confrontation with Jim and Marissa, while college student Kelly is in class and Glenn's at work, Amber lays on her bed, props her back against a couple pillows and boots up her personal laptop. Google Chrome takes her to Family Relations XXX. Look at this, would you?! Mom-Son. Dad-Daughter. Mom-Daughter. Sister-Brother. Sister-Sister. Brother-Brother. She scrolls to the dad-daughter section, then clicks to the first of eight pages. Glenn's right, she thinks, most of this stuff looks like roll play. The "dads" and "daughters" she sees look nothing alike. In some cases, the couples look too close in age. And then there's the "acting," a big joke played out in scenes that look too orchestrated to be real. A few of them do look authentic, but so far, she doesn't see Jim and Marissa. She scrolls to page 2, then 3, then 4 and—bingo! Like much of the authentic looking stuff, there's nothing orchestrated here, no wooden acting, no acting at all. Moreover, the film quality is relatively poor compared to the slick role play videos. Ohmygod, these people, these people who live just a few houses away, appear to harbor no inhibitions whatsoever about what they're doing! Dad and daughter going at it like any "straight" couple. And this is what floats Glenn's boat. Well, okay, so long as he doesn't get any ideas of doing this with Kelly.

Curious about the mom-son section, she clicks on that, sees that there's a dozen pages of it. Like dad-daughter, most of these videos appear orchestrated, with a few authentic looking ones thrown in. Moms doing their sons...wow! She couldn't, she wouldn't, and yet she's thought about it. Yes, actually thought about her and her handsome son Brody! It's her dirty little fantasy wrapped in her dirty little secret. Ohmygod, look at these people! Moms, many of them overweight, spreading their fat legs for their hunky sons, moaning and groaning under the pile-driving, piston-like action of these guys, these shameless motherfuckers. One mom looks somewhat like Amber, cute, middle-aged and petite, an exception to the fatties, and she's got her mouth around her boy's cock, a kid who bears a likeness to Brody. His hair is dark and long, his body muscular. Brody, like his dad, isn't big. But he began lifting weights as a young teen, and kept it up through his twenties, and it shows.

Amber thinks this is one of the real deals because there's no pretense here, no silly skits. The video began with this mom's motherly blow job and now, as Amber sees, it's going further. Almost without thinking, she begins to massage her breasts, then slips a hand inside her blue panties. Oh my, this is so fucking hot! Son is doing mom from behind, and she can't seem to get enough. "Fuck me, fuck me, oh fuck me harder, Billy!" At least Amber thinks she cried Billy—the audio isn't the best. What would it feel like if Brody did her like that? Softly, she says, "Pretty amazing, I imagine, to feel Brody's hard body against mine, to feel his tongue on my clit, his hard, youthful cock inside my wet pussy."

Amber massages her clit as she continues to watch, so intensely, so absorbed that she can almost put herself into the scene. The mom now sits on her son's cock, moving fore and aft. Her large, mortar shell-shaped boobs protrude from her nightgown, pulled up around her waist. "Oh Billy, yes yes!" she cries, while shaking her bushy blond hair out of her eyes. Amber can't hold out for much longer. In fact, moments after this couple goes to missionary, Amber climaxes, emitting one long moan, with her eyes closed, picturing Brody between her legs.

After cooling off, she can't help but feel a little guilty. Watching this stuff is one thing. Making it one's own reality is another, something Glenn claims he'd never do. The very thought "sickens" him, he had said. Not Amber. Other than her moral reservations, the thought of making love to Brody Horvath is as exciting a sexual fantasy as she's ever harbored. How Brody might feel about it is another matter. Would he go for it? Maybe. When he was home, he was in the habit of patting her on the butt. "Nice ass, mom," he'd say. She'd smile and he'd wink. All innocent, perhaps, though now she wonders if there was more to it on Brody's part. Ohmygod, such outrageous thoughts! If she knows what's good for her and her family, she'll stick with enjoying her fantasy vicariously through watching others.

She thinks it best not to tell Glenn about her time with Family Relations XXX. He'd laugh, she surmises, perhaps even call her a hypocrite. However, when he returns home, she changes her mind, tells him what she saw, even tells him she masturbated. "Hey, what's good for the goose..."

He chuckles, takes it in stride. "Well, chalk it up to something else we have in common. Like me regarding Kelly, I'm sure the thought of actually doing that with Brody turns you off."

"Um, well, yeah, of course," she stammers. "Perish the thought."

But, a couple weeks and countless mom-son incest videos later, she finds herself dialing Brody's number. "Hi son. I'm calling to see if you'd like to have lunch one day next week. Just the two of us."

"Sure mom, sounds great. It's been a while since we've done that. What's on your mind?"

"Well, something that should be discussed in person."

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Brody. Just need to discuss some things. So, is it a date?"

"Going to leave me in suspense, are you? Can't wait. Yes, it's a date. Looking forward to it."

"Me too. More than you know."

She clicks off, then whispers, "Into the red zone I go."