One Shot

It was the strangest ten minutes of my life. It barely involved me. And I can't orgasm unless I think about it.

Three college roommates: myself, Caitlin, and Jenna. We went to a big school, a party school, with a good football team. We were getting ready for a Halloween party when Caitlin came out of her room dressed in a pajama onesie. It was powder blue, dotted with pink bunnies and puffy white clouds. She had drawn some freckles on her cheeks and placed a pacifier in her mouth.

"It works, right?" she asked us as we sat on the living room futon, "Everybody will know I'm a baby, right? This was super cheap."

We nodded. It was a perfectly acceptable costume. I, being a photography major, was taking my professional camera and a "newsperson" hat, making me a "reporter." Jenna was a cat...or something. That isn't important.

Here's the jist of it: Caitlin and I were incredibly close. I had known her since we were twelve. When I came out as a lesbian, she knew before my own parents. When she decided to marry her husband, Brian, I was the first persons he told. Everyone in town thought she was nuts to get married so young, and especially before heading off to school, but I supported her unconditionally. Given the secrets we shared, I considered her to be a sister.

Since it was college, and we were still a half-hour drive from my hometown, I still played along with "the narrative." I was the cool lesbian friend that still went home for the holidays, didn't dye her hair pink, acted as a doting bridesmaid in weddings, and did other "normie" things. Caitlin and Jenna kept me around to show how profoundly open minded they were. They "fought" for LGBT rights even more than I did. At this point, I was beginning to feel like a token. I really wanted to move to the coast, go full dyke, and really lay into the lifestyle, but I had neither the money or the ability. I was stuck in the same pathway laid out by my suburban childhood for at least a few years longer.

Nevertheless, I cared a lot about Caitlin, mainly because she needed me.

Her husband, Brian, was nice. And that's it. Caitlin was terrified of change, terrified of trying new things, and terrified of instability. I hardly ever saw her enjoy a thing in her life. Everything she did was on rails, and college was a tiny diversion on the way to her white-picket-fence future. I think, to some degree, Caitlin treated Brian harshly. I know she always forced him to wear condoms since she didn't want to be burdened with daily birth control. He cooked and cleaned more than she did as well. I never understood their arrangement. Their life together seemed so restrictive.

I think that's why she loved and trusted me so much. I loved to talk about naughty sexual topics with her. I liked showing her some of my erotically edgy photo essays. Sometimes we even watched porn together while we smoked weed. If you knew her, you'd know that she never, ever acted this way with anyone else. I had a connection with her that nobody else shared.

She was my platonic friend, but she was beyond gorgeous. Like, drop-dead gorgeous. You can imagine any face you please and it won't be as sexually adorable as hers. And her tits...not to downplay her hourglass hips or long legs, but her tits...wow. I wish I could swim in them.

-

We walked to the party and fifty plus people were jammed into two apartments. We ran into an incredibly handsome guy dressed in nothing but a diaper and bonnet, aka another take on the "baby" costume. He must have been six foot four with a body tight as a snare drum. His pecs were like iron fucking horseshoes. Jenna and Caitlin mobbed him, talking and laughing, for something like five minutes. We think his name was "Mike."

"Oh my gosh, let me take a picture!" I yelled over the music. Caitlin put her arm around him and he draped his huge arm around her. Everybody smiled. Two babies, get it? Haha. I took the pic.

"Isn't it crazy that their both dressed up as babies?" somebody yelled.

"They both look fuckin hot..." came from somewhere.

The whole night, Caitlin kept looking over at him. He was so tall she could easily see him anywhere he went. I never saw her gloat over someone before.

Three hours and six beers later, Caitlin came to me. She pulled me into the living room of the more empty apartment. "Mike" was on the couch along with maybe five or six other people, some girls, some boys. I don't remember.

"Everybody went to the other apartment to play beer pong," she opined. We were standing in the middle of the living room when a random conversation started. It was about sports or something.

Out of the diatribe, some guy shouted: "It's weird that two people that are this hot both dressed up as babies."

There was discussion about why it was "weird." Someone exclaimed "I'd watch that porn!" and everyone laughed. Caitlin laughed really hard, too, because she was a bit drunk. For some reason there was a dining room chair in the middle of the room, the type with no armrests. "Mike" jumped to it and sat down. He motioned for Caitlin to come over to him.

She did, and she sort of posed provocatively over him. The idea, I'm guessing, was an enactment of what a "baby themed porn" would look like. It was just to have fun. Everybody laughed.

To this day, I don't think "Mike" had perverted intentions. At least, not at this point. I think he was just a nice guy having a little fun. I grabbed my camera and took a picture, pretending to be "aggressively" shooting my subjects, like it was a porn shoot. I turned the "video" feature on the camera and began recording a video while I took snapshots. The lighting in the room was surprisingly warm. The group ate it up and everyone around the two of them hooted and hollered.

Caitlin took it up a big, big notch. With her pacifier in her mouth, she unzipped the onesie slowly until she was showing cleavage, playing to the crowd. I think she only meant to show her neckline, but one of her tits popped out. The laughs and clapping were ear splitting. I'd seen her "girls" before, obviously, but I still felt the blood rush from my head. Her pert tit looked so youthful, and I wanted to fit as much of it in my mouth as I could.

To screams of joy and laughter from the crowd, Mike took her nipple between his lips and sucked. I took a picture. The "theme" was getting rowdy, but still within the realm of a party and a risque joke. Nobody noticed her wedding ring.

Mike pulled out her other tit, smashed them together, and sucked on them both. Caitlin began to laugh and saliva trailed out of her mouth as the pacifier fell away. I took some snapshots. When she stopped laughing, her eyes looked almost droopy. She was lost somewhere. When he pulled away, her tits glistened.

The crowd around them kept clapping and laughing and a few more people made their way into the apartment to see what the noise was about. Caitlin looked around and was disoriented. Mike unzipped her onesie the rest of the way down and started to finger her pussy. I took another picture. I don't know how she could have been more horny because she nearly cried the second his fingers made contact.

The crowd took more of a hushed tone. The "baby" humor had left the room and now things were "weird." He pulled his diaper back a bit and his cock became free. The pacifier had fell down onto his diaper during their "show" and it fell down around the base of his erect cock. He picked it up, tracing it a bit over his erection, and put it back in her mouth. He firmly placed his hands on her hips.

He just slipped right in. It had escalated so quickly. No protection.

I wish I could tell you that they mounted one another and had the most earth shattering sex in the world, but the reality was different. He sank as far into her as he could before bottoming out, and the pacifier fell again when she cooed. Maybe half his cock was inside her, maybe. He was big, and girthy. Two quick little thrusts later and he popped it all the way in. The room fell dead silent and he thrust into her at a steady pace while she grunted in tandem with his strokes. He gave her tits a squeeze and she leaned to kiss him, but he relented. I was still taking pictures, furiously, in a daze.

Then, he drove all the way inside and came in her. My shutter sounded like a machine gun. In less than a minute it was all over.

Jenna had joined the crowd at some point, and she walked forward, like an idiot. Her concerned, scrunchy face broke up the scene and she panickedly shrieked and escorted Caitlin off of the man's cock. A rope of cum laid between them for the briefest of moments, and I caught it on film. My two friends disappeared into a bedroom for some kind of hushed, concerned discussion. "Mike" just sat, spent, and maybe a little regretful.

I rushed out of the room and asked whomever I could for the apartment's Wi-Fi password. I watched with an ice cold face as the photos and video uploaded to my cloud drive. When it was 100% complete, and I knew the scene I had witnessed would never be lost, I breathed a sigh of relief. When a few minutes had passed, I grabbed a beer. I sipped on it and asked myself if I was "fucked up." I really wanted to masturbate.

-

I was with Caitlin in the car at the clinic. If I was a less sick person, or maybe more decidedly pro-choice, this would have been the occasion for dozens of jokes about irony.

"It's been weeks and Brian hasn't found out," she said. I remember that it was a little chilly that day. Very fall-like, with leaves blowing around on the ground.

"He won't," I reassured her.

She signed, "I don't know want to do this," she said, fighting a sob.

I shrugged, "Then don't."

Caitlin scoffed, "How? How could I be a mom?"

I gulped, "You don't love Brian. Being with him won't make you happy. You can confront this now or go in another direction. Having a baby out of wedlock isn't what people want you to do, but it would put you on another path. Anything is better than a fake life."

She started sighing and breathing heavily. "Maybe Mike and I can talk about it."

Startled, she looked at me, "His name was Mike, right? That was his name, right? Oh God, please...we don't even know his name..."

She started crying. I put my arm around her and comforted her. She calmed down eventually.

"Did you delete the pictures?" she asked through sobs.

"All but one, I wanted to show you today..." I said. I was lying. I had everything triple-backed up.

I had one shot come out like it was from a professional masterwork by a nobel prize winner. It was the exact moment he bottomed out and came inside her. Her tits were free and you could see where her pussy was gobbling up his cock. Her beautiful bright eyes were open and sinking with lust. She was in mid-gasp. I loved the glistening of her complexion and the look of his bonnet and the wet pacifier, fallen once again and lying just above their coupling on his navel.

"Do you remember this moment?" I asked.

She nodded, "That's how he held me when he started cumming," she answered. The minutia of the event was burned deep inside her mind.

I rubbed her back to comfort her, "This is the moment you made this life. Look at your eyes, look at how he's holding you. Remember how this felt. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

I shifted in my seat, "Do you want this majesty to be the beginning of motherhood? Or memories of the BBQ buffet at your cheap wedding? Or that awful crap everybody puts on Facebook, with the sandwich board chalk messages, the gender reveal parties, the bump pictures? Their lives are shit. This was real. It was fleeting, it was bizarre, but at least it was something tangible. You let this happen for a reason. You wanted this man, and you wanted his cum."

She was shaking her head, "Everyone I know would hate me..."

Something insane was bubbling up inside me. I knew she was too depressed and crying when we left the apartment, so she wasn't wearing anything underneath her hooded sweatshirt. I started unzipping it.

"What are you doing..." she asked.

"Stare at the photo. Think of life. Think of being Caitlin the Lifegiver, not Caitlin the Suppressor." I sounded insane.

The zipper came down and I moved the shirt to the side. I only took out one tit. I didn't want to be selfish, after all.

I ran my nose up and down the side of her ear. "Caitlin the Lifegiver," I whispered into her ear, "Stare at the photo and think of love. Think of the life in you."

I took her tit in my mouth and suckled on her. Her skin was cold like the fall pavement, and she tasted like faint apricot.

"Ohhhh, why is this making me feel so much better..." she cooed. I moaned.

I teethed on her engorged, puffy nipple. I felt her chest rise and fall. She was shivering. I was going to make her cum with my teeth...I rose my head up and tried to whisper to her again...

All of a sudden she shoved me off of her, hard, and I rammed into the steering wheel. She zipped up her sweatshirt and looked at me angrily, "You were always the one putting this perverted crap in my head. Your hippie dyke bullshit. This is as much your fault as it is anyone's."

She opened the car door.

"Stay away from me, cunt."

She stormed out of the car and into the clinic. I stayed because I was a good friend, and because I empathised with her. Afterwards, I drove her home in complete silence. When she exited the car, a receipt dropped out of her pocket.

I don't know how I lost her trust so quickly, or maybe I do. We never spoke again.

-

Years later, I was showing my essay to a fellow dealer. I only showed it to my most trusted colleagues given the nature of the content. We were sharing a gallery space and expected our next showing to be a resounding success. This person has given me a great deal of success in life. I owed her a look at the only true art I had ever made. It was something akin to a personal bible.

"Do you see the flush lines here? The color? This is where the other kids were laughing. See how the light glistens off of her breast? Isn't her smile something?"

My colleague nodded, "This is so erotic and yet so pedestrian, the costumes are so...off putting but relevant somehow."

I let her leaf through the photos. She openly gasped when "Mike" began to finger Caitlin. Like an avid reader thumbing through the last pages of a classic, she went through the thirty remaining pages in the album. Each was a high definition capture of the fleeting but beautiful mating of two true specimens of human sexuality, seasoned with sprinklings of Midwestern self-destruction.

"I finally noticed the wedding ring...this guy doesn't look like a husband..."

She came to the last photo. The look of despondence on Caitlin's face was so profound as Jenna's arms pulled her away. The rope of cum was center in the frame.

"Ugh, it's almost tragic. Quite the shoot."

I nodded, "one more page."

She turned to see the clinic receipt. I gave her a moment to piece things together.

"Oh goodness...I can't..."

She flipped through the pages to the exact frame I had showed Caitlin that fateful day in the car.

"This was it, wasn't it?" she said, "Unless they made love again..."

I shook my head, "They didn't. They never saw each other again after that night. She didn't even know his name."

As I had seen with other viewers when they came to that fateful final page, this reinvigorated her interest in the other photos now that the narrative had changed to a hopeful tragedy. After several minutes, she closed the book.

"That might be one of the most incredible things i've ever seen, phew," she said, "I really want to go fuck my husband!"

We laughed a bit. She thanked me for sharing it with her. We made small talk. She left.

-

Late one night, past midnight, the halfway mark of a bottle of wine, and the period for good judgements, I opened up Facebook. Somehow, through the years, Caitlin had never unfriended me. I saw what I knew I would one day see: a picture of a terrier dog next to a sandwich chalkboard.

"Come March, I'll have a big brother or sister!"

The caption above the photo?

"So exciting to welcome the birth of our first child!"

Hundreds of fake internet "likes" and gushing comments accompanied the post. I shook my head. She was so far down the path of misery there was no way out. I knew the real her. I really, really did. The person I once knew was not looking forward to mothering that man's child.

In a huff, I posted the pic of her conception, the "real" welcoming of her "first" child, right on her wall. For her mom to see. For her husband to see. For her neighbors to see. To help her remember when she finally let her concrete-thick guard down and did something beautiful.

In almost as little time as it took her to milk that beautiful man's diapered cock that night, she unfriended me and blocked me.

I took a swig off the wine bottle. I contemplated if I was "fucked up." I really wanted to masturbate.