The Next Big Thing

My name is Glen. I'm just a regular, normal guy with a regular, normal wife. I get up in the morning, go to work, mow the yard on weekends, tinker with my classic car, the whole deal. My wife, Samantha, is a photographer and has a small studio downtown. She does mostly portrait work; families in sweaters, little kids who just got the worst haircuts of their young lives and will hate the pictures when they're older, that sort of thing. We're in our late 40's. Me, 49, and Samantha just turned 48. I try to stay active to keep the old spare tire at bay, but not always successful. My wife has what I like to call "good genes". I don't think she's gained over a pound since we were married over 22 years ago, even after having two kids. She has a slender, petite frame and if she stands on her tiptoes may reach five-four, maybe. If anyone said her bust size was over a B cup I would of called them liars. They may be small, but I like them just fine. Her blond hair is beginning to get streaks of silver, which she hates but I think gives her a definite classy look. Typical, typical, typical are the three words that probably describe us best. Things changed though when trouble moved in next door, and its name was Derrick.

I knew Derrick was trouble from the first time I met him. I had seen his type a hundred times before in high school and college. He was a tall, good looking guy (I'll admit that) with an athletic build. He had just turned 30 and decided to settle in the 'burbs as everyone does when they get "old", or old to him. His wife, Candice, could be described as my wife's polar opposite. Candice was tall, dark-haired, and had the body of a fitness model. I'm sure her too-small T-shirts that she liked to wear were permanently stretched out of shape from her bountiful chest. They looked like a Hollywood couple. They also had all the charm and arrogance that comes with looking that way and getting whatever they wanted. Derrick would occasionally flash his killer smile at my wife. "Not today, sonny," she would slam him with. "There's always tomorrow," was his standard reply.

It took about six months to realize they were actually ok people once you got past the attitude. Living next door Candice and my wife eventually became best friends. Candice was always trying to get Samantha to "loosen up" and my wife was always trying to get Candice to understand that my she was as "loose" as she would ever get.

Derrick loved my car, a black, 1965 Barracuda that I had just restored. A real muscle car. He would come over and we would tinker around with it while listening to whatever game happened to be on. As always talk would eventually turn to sex and our past sexual conquests. If Derrick scored with only half the women he claimed that was still three times more than my total. I may not of been a scoring machine, but I told him that I had a cheerleader or two in my day. According to him he had any girl that he decided on. I always got a lump in my throat when he said that, worried that some day he might cast that eye towards my wife. He must of noticed my discomfort. "Don't worry, dude, I like playing with your toy here too much," he assured me. Then he would flash his devilish grin, "But just so you know, I could if I wanted," he winked.

For some reason I didn't back down this time. "Anytime you think you can you're welcome to try." I think it was the beer talking. Derrick just started laughing. This led to talk of infidelity, and if we had ever cheated. I had to admit that I had.

"Not you, man! You're my monogamy inspiration," Derrick said, surprised by my revelation. "How did it happen?" I told him how Samantha and I had hit a rough patch and I had hooked up with an old girlfriend one night after a particularly bad fight. I had never told anyone that and I was instantly worried that Derrick would let it "slip". "And Samantha never found out?" I told him, no, and it should stay that way. "Don't worry, I'm not going to bust your balls over this. Every man cheats some way or another. This just means you're normal." He slapped me on the back a little too hard. "I think Candice would. Hell, I bet your modest dressing wife would cheat if the right situation arose." I don't know what pissed me off more; saying my wife would cheat if given the chance, or that she was modest dressing. I did have to admit to myself that when she and Candice stood next to each other my wife seemed to disappear.

"No," I insisted, "Samantha would never cheat on me." The wolf-like smile and glare that crossed Derrick's face almost made me take a step back.

"Wanna bet?" He saw a sheep in front of him and was licking his chops.

I should of laughed it off and gone inside. I was out of my league but didn't have the sense to realize it. It must of been the beer. I wanted to play it cool, that I could be a slick operator too. I would show this kid. "Goddamn right I do. Stakes?" This shut the golden boy up for a moment. The wolf-smile appeared again. He looked over at my 'cuda. I bet the blood drained from my face.

"Your car against the cash equivalent from me." He stuck his hand out. Pride and alcohol are a bad combination. I grabbed it firmly and gave a good squeeze. He squeezed back. It took all I had to keep from wincing.

The rules were simple: Samantha had to cheat of her own free will. If she was tempted and declined, I won; if she cheated, Derrick won. This was a one time deal. Derrick had to supply the proof, and it couldn't just be his word. Once she turned down the initial advance it was over; he couldn't keep hitting on her. "Oh, I'm not going to be the one, I'm not going to touch her," he informed me. I was certainly relieved to hear THAT! He winked and then strolled out of my garage whistling some tune I didn't recognize. What the hell had I just done?

At first I was on pins and needles as I waited for Derrick to show up with pictures or something. I began to take every little subtle reference from my wife way out of context. She must of thought I was a paranoid maniac or on drugs. "What is your problem?" she would ask when I started asking about where she had been or who she had talked to. I could of told her about the bet which would of insured victory and a lot of extra cash. We were saving for a trip to Europe and this would put us over the top. I finally decided to play it straight. Also, and I hate to admit it, curiosity was beginning to get to me. Would she really cheat if given the right circumstances? Derrick could not of devised a better form of torture.

After more than a few sleepless nights the stress began to wear off and things got back to normal. A few months later and it was almost completely forgotten. Derrick never said one word. This probably should of worried me the most. He was polite around my wife, but still flirted with her on occasion. I held out hope that Derrick was as drunk as I was that night and forgot all about it. I was completely floored when the DVD addressed to me arrived in the mail . PLAY ME was all that was written on it. My hand was shaking as I put it in the computer at work. I didn't dare leave it laying around home. There was a professional looking title at the beginning that said: The Next Big Thing. The video started out showing a black guy driving and talking to the camera.

"So how are you feeling today? Ready for the big time?" The cameraman asked.

"Oh, I'm always ready. Should be a fun afternoon." They continued to shoot the shit when the car pulled into a parking lot and stopped. The black guy looked right into the camera, "Time to go win the bet for Derrick." Oh fuck! The camera followed the black guy as he entered a familiar looking building. My mouth went dry as I recognized it as my wife's studio.

"You must be Lawrence," my wife said as she walked up to them with her hand out. The black guy shook it. He was at least a foot taller than Samantha and her hand disappeared in his.

"Actually he prefers Big L," the cameraman informed her.

"Big L?"

"Yeah, it's kind of my professional name," Lawrence/Big L said.

"Are you a rapper?" I was kind of surprised that my wife even knew what a rapper was.

"More like an un wrapper," Big L said with a chuckle. My wife didn't get what was painfully obvious to me. "Oh, and I hope the video camera doesn't bother you. This company is following me around, doing a 'Day in the Life' sort of thing on me." Samantha apologized for not having heard of him.

"He's not famous, yet. He is what we are calling 'The Next Big Thing'," the cameraman said. "When this is all over you'll know him very well."

The three of them went over a few ideas for the shoot. Big L had brought some clothes that he felt would best show what he had to offer. Samantha showed him the dressing room and left to set up. Inside Big L starts talking to the camera again. "Man, I am going to enjoy your wife soooo much!" He flicked his tongue out. Damn it was long and wide. God only knew what he was going to do with that thing. The knot that had been forming in my stomach was now the size of a basketball. I also noticed that Big L was really ripped while he was changing. Gulp!

Back outside the camera "documented" the session as Samantha snapped away at Big L in various poses. When it came time to change the camera would follow him back into the dressing room where he would again exclaim what he was going to do to my wife. "Drag my tongue all up and down her body. She may be twice my age, but fuck, she's still pretty goddamn hot." For a moment I felt a sense of pride as he talked about my wife like that. She was pretty desirable still. What the hell was I thinking? I didn't really want him to succeed in seducing my wife, did I?

The next time he came out it was in spandex biker shorts and a tight tank top. The cameraman focused down on Big L's crotch. Big was right. The spandex held him in, but there was no denying what it was holding in. If my wife noticed she didn't let on. The cameraman seemed to be trying his best to get something going, commenting on how Big L looked, how famous he was going to be. He asked my wife if she liked working with him so far.

"Yes, he's an excellent subject," was the most she complimented him. Good for you, honey! "Are you getting into modeling?"

"Kind of," Big L said, "leaning more towards the erotic. Maybe some video shoots."

"We're working on that one," the cameraman says.

The light bulb finally went off in my wife's head. "Porn star?" she asked, lowering her camera.

"Yeah. I hope that doesn't offend you too much." Big L looked away as though he was embarrassed. This son of a bitch was giving an academy award worthy performance.

Samantha surprised me by laughing. "I've seen a few of those types of videos in my life." She had? When? Not with me, that's for sure. She always told me she hated them. "Plus I'm a photographer, I've shot nudes before. Unfortunately I haven't had the chance to shoot any in a few years. If I shot nudes of my current clients they would haul my ass off to jail."

"That would be a shame, seeing as how it's such a nice ass at that." Big L's compliment seemed to have an almost unseen effect on my wife. Most wouldn't notice, but living with someone for over twenty years gives you special insight. "I'll have to schedule some of those. When can you fit me in?"

She checked her appointment book. "How about Thursday?"

"Excellent," Big L says, "and keep the afternoon open. Can I bring someone to pose with me? The kind of shots I'm thinking about need two."

"Whatever you want. You're in charge."

Back in the dressing room Big L winks and smiles at the camera again. "And you don't even know this is going on." Both of them laugh out loud. TO BE CONTINUED... scrolled across the screen then the DVD went blank.

I didn't sleep at all for the next two nights. Finally the next DVD showed up in the mail. Derrick had been away on business so there was no way to confront him about this. I had a hunch he planned it that way. What could I confront him with? We had made a bet, and so far my wife hadn't done anything. With acute apprehension I put the new DVD in the computer. The setup was the same: the camera follows Big L like a reality show into my wife's studio. Again into the dressing room to change. This time the camera stays out and the cameraman chats up Samantha, asking her opinion of his "look".

"You think he's a pretty good looking guy, don't you?"

"Oh yes, very handsome," Samantha answers, blissfully ignorant of where this is all headed.

"You could see how women would want to see him in action, right? I'm asking because you are kind of a representation of his target audience."

"How am I his target audience? I'm just a middle aged married woman." Samantha asked, confused.

"That's our audience!" The cameraman went on to explain how videos of guys like Big L were a big hit with mature, married women. "It's fantasy material. A lovely woman, such as yourself, still sexually active, but things are now a bit stale at home after twenty years of marriage. And after watching the videos you become more aroused and head straight for the nearest manly body. Usually the husband. Actually I think they benefit the most here. That old magic is restored and everyone is happy." Wow! This guy was really laying it on thick. "You know that fantasy, older woman, younger man."

"If he's going to be used as fantasy material then I think he'll be very successful." I couldn't believe Samantha actually said that. Holy crap!

"I'm sure he'll love to hear that from his target - audience that is. That's who Big L is usually going to be paired with."

"Going to be? So he hasn't actually made any videos yet?" Samantha asked, deeply engrossed now.

"No, not yet. And if Donna doesn't get here soon I don't know what we're going to do."

"Who's Donna?"

"She's a model that was going to pose with Big L today. She's around your age, 39 - 40." The camera caught my wife blushing.

"I hope you don't think we were going to have a porn shoot here today. Because if that's the case..."

"No," the cameraman assured her, "it was going to just be erotic, you know, simulated. No real in and out action." This seemed to calm my wife.

As if on cue Big L strode out of the dressing room wearing nothing but red silk boxers. The camera focused on my wife, and for a split second I thought I saw what chilled my heart solid - desire. I wanted to stop the video, but couldn't. I had to know what happened.

The posing started, but this time Samantha was more vocal about what she wanted; telling Big L what a great pose that was, or how great he looked, just dropping compliments all over the place. All the while the cameraman was pimping for Big L, saying how all the ladies were going to die when they finally saw him in action or got a good look at the merchandise. The camera was pointing at my wife when he said that and she noticeably glanced down at Big L's big crotch. He then suggested that Big L's pecs would stand out better with some oil on them, like a body builder's during competition. My wife agreed and left to get some. The camera got right up in Big L's face and he stuck his tongue out again. "Right there, Glen, that's where your little wifey is going to be very very soon. Just watch and cry." Goddamn bastards! This was driving me nuts. And speaking of nuts, I couldn't deny the real feeling of excitement that was now forcing my dick to get harder than I could remember.

Samantha returned with the oil and Big L started rubbing it over his body. He strained to reach his back. "Samantha, can you get my back?" She hesitated, then took the bottle and started applying the oil to his broad back. "Wow, that's great. You should of been a masseuse. You have great hands. Damn, getting me all excited. When you start taking pictures again don't look down." "I've seen a penis before," Samantha informed him.

Big L laughed. "That's what they all said."

"Big L, I was telling our beautiful photographer here about how she's just the type that we're aiming for." Again the cameraman was leading the conversation to sex.

"That's right, that's exactly right. I want to appeal to women of a more mature, sexually experienced caliber. Women with brains that want to let go of their passions. Those to me are the hottest women, the most desirable women."

"I think the twenty year olds would disagree with you there," Samantha said.

Big L shook his head. "Coeds... empty headed girls thinking only about where the next kegger is or flashing their tits on those 'Girls Gone Wild' videos. You know what I think would be a great idea? Mature Women Gone Wild. Now that sucker would sell!"

"Well, if I had tits like some of those women I wouldn't hesitate to show them."

Big L looked at the camera. "I think you should never sell yourself short like that. But then again, if you want to flash, feel free." My wife joined Big L and the cameraman in laughter.

"If the camera wasn't here..." Samantha joked.

"Quick, turn off the camera!" Big L shouted.

"No way. I could make a fortune on one of those cougar sites with her," the cameraman said.

"Oh, so I'm a cougar now?" Samantha inquired.

Big L shook his head. "Naw, to be a cougar you would have to seduce me. Although that sounds pretty good right now," he says, then winks at her and flashes his killer smile. Samantha turns crimson and starts snapping away again. This time she gets a lot of frontal shots. Big L starts to get noticeably aroused. He's not as hard as I bet he can get, but it's enough to show impressive potential. "So, do you think I have what it takes to be a big star?" Again Samantha blushes.

"From where I'm standing I think your talents are obvious... for that line of work."

"Trust me, it ain't work. You wouldn't believe how many husbands ask me to fuck - I mean pleasure their wives. Pardon my language." My wife couldn't believe it. "Oh yeah, it really turns a lot of guys on seeing their wives going down on a big, black cock - I mean penis. Dammit! Sorry about my language. Must be something in the room making me talk like that."

"And this turns guys on?" Samantha had stop shooting and was just standing there with an almost dazed and drunken look on her face. Things were happening that were out of her control. This hunk of a male standing in front of her was having a delirious effect on her. This was a whole new world that she had entered. Would she now take the big step was the question.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Big L looked over to the cameraman. "So where the hell is Donna?"

"I don't know, man. She said she'd be here. I'll call her again." The camera jiggled as the cameraman jostled with it to get to his phone. There was a quick jump cut when the camera was turned off and then turned back on again. This time it was pointed at Big L. "No answer, Big L."

"Well hell, I wanted to get this all done today. We have a deadline to meet with these. This could ruin a lot of things. I mean we don't have the money to keep coming back here."

"I can try to get someone else," offered the cameraman. Big L shook his head.

"Not enough time. Damn this sucks."

I knew what was going to come next so I wasn't a bit surprised when the camera swung around and zoomed in on my wife. With a line that must of been practiced over and over again the cameraman said: "Samantha, you wouldn't be willing to help us out would you?" My wife is a college graduate. She has been running her own business, and damn successful at it, for over ten years. She has seen through every little lie and excuse I have ever used. Why she picked now to flip the naive switch I'll never know. She looked up with her big blue eyes, the camera centering her face perfectly. Even with the wrinkles around her eyes and a few lines, although small, on her face, Samantha is still a very pretty woman. My heart was literally thumping in my chest, and I hate to admit it, but my dick was thumping too.