Inverting a Porn Tradition
foreign

This story took place not in India but Rocky River, Ohio, USA. But four of the five people were from India, all of them wealthy, arrogant, attractive, and very dark-skinned young women from Tamil Nadu. They all had South India names but preferred to use American names because Americans could neither remember nor pronounce their Indian names. So I use their American names here. I had just moved into a condominium apartment in Rocky River. Two of the four young women, Jane and Jill, were temporarily staying in their aunt and uncle’s condominium apartment across a corridor from mine for the summer while their aunt and uncle were visiting in India. The other two young Indian women who called themselves Diana and Judy were exchange art instructors teaching art at a college in nearby Cleveland for the summer. I first met them at the swimming pool belonging to the condominium. I had climbed out of the pool to sit in a deck chair and was walking by them. “Hi, Tom,” a young female voice said. It surprised me because I had just moved in and knew no one there. I turned to see who it was. A beautiful dark-skinned young Indian woman took off her expensive designer sunglasses and gave me a wink and a smile. “Do you remember me? I’m Judy. I was a student in art classes that you modeled nude for five years ago.” I had been a nude model for drawing, panting, sculpture, and photography classes. I was flustered that this disreputable part of my past had suddenly caught up with me. “I was so used to seeing you completely naked that I almost didn’t recognize you with your bathing suit on.” She laughed at it to indicate to me that she was joking. “So, what are you doing now?” I asked. “Teaching art for the summer where you used to model naked.” “And I’m helping her to teach there,” the young woman from India beside her said. “I’m Diana.” She waved her hand to indicate two more young women from India. “And these are your neighbors for the summer from the apartment across the corridor, Jane and Jill.” “Hi, Tom,” they both said. “We saw you in the corridor, but we didn’t know your name until now.” “Hi, Diana, Jane, and Jill,” I said. “Yeah, I saw you, too. But I didn’t know your names, either. They were all very attractive and very dark-skinned Indian women. They were all obviously liberated and comfortable with our American customs. All of them wore skimpy colorful bathing suits. All of them had their black hair cut short, American style. “You were the first white male that I ever saw naked,” Judy said. “Are you still modeling nude, Tom?” “Not recently,” I said. “After my mother died and left me some money, I quit modeling. I’ve been squeaking out a living from the interest and from doing odd jobs for five years.” Diana exchanged glances with Judy, then with Jane and Jill. “Would you consider posing nude for our private drawing class today, Tom?” Diane asked. “Where?” I asked. “In our apartment just across the corridor from yours,” Jill said. “Ten dollars,” Judy said. “Okay,” I said. “When?” “Now is okay,” Diane said. “Is it okay with you?” “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t have a robe anymore. “Forget the robe. We don’t care if you just stay naked between poses,” Jane said. “Okay, lets go.” They got up and we all walked to the condominium building and got in the elevator. “Give us ten minutes to change out of our wet bathing suits, and you can do the same,” Jill said. “I’ll knock on your door when we’re ready,” Jane said. “Just walk across the corridor naked. We’ll be ready to go.” They went into their apartment. I went into mine. I slipped off my wet bathing suit and waited with my door cracked slightly open. In a few minutes Jill pushed my door open and glanced at my nudity. “We’re ready for your bare body, Tom,” she said. Her door was wide open. I crossed the corridor and followed her into her apartment. Jill was dressed in white shorts and a patterned summer blouse. Jane had on blue denim jeans shorts and a blue tanktop. Diane wore khaki trousers and a blue polo shirt. Judy wore a summer dress with a colorful artistic collage pattern. There were four drawing boards with newsprint for sketches clipped to them. They were arranged in a circular pattern on the floor with a space for me to pose in the center. Off to the side was a high-end and high-resolution digital camcorder on a tripod. On a table beside it were two digital photograph cameras. The photography devices didn’t bother me. I had signed model releases and had done nude photography modeling many times. There were art photographs of my naked flesh and anatomy all over the place. The four young Indian women had pulled the drapes open to allow in daylight from two sides. There were also three high-intensity floodlights shining brightly. Judy was in charge of the figure drawing class. “We’ll do twenty-minute poses and give you a fifteen-minute breaks between them where we can talk with and get to know one another,” she said. She nodded to the space in the center of the circular arrangement of drawing boards. The four young women from India had obviously arranged to be looking up from below my thighs and buttocks while I posed my bare Caucasian flesh and male anatomy. I went to the center of the circle of drawing boards and struck a heroic pose with my white legs spread apart and my arms folded across my chest. And they took their drawing positions sitting on the floor and began sketching me. It is not easy to hold poses. But I had been a professional nude art model for years. I did what I had to do. “Okay, Tom, take a break,” Diane said. By a clock I could see only fifteen minutes had gone by. They seemed to want to talk to me while I sat naked. Jill motioned to a vinyl-covered chair, and I sat down. The cool vinyl on the flesh of my bare buttocks reminded me of my nudity. I nodded at the cameras. “If you’re going to take photos, I’ll be glad to sign a model release,” I said. “We were about to ask you to sign one, Tom. I’ll get one,” Jane said. She pulled out a drawer of a mahogany secretary, grabbed a form, and handed it to me along with a pen. I stood up and used the fold out desk of the secretary to sign it. I signed and handed it back to Jane. She signed as witness and put it back in the drawer. “You know, about three years ago I almost married an Indian girl,” I said. “How did that happen?” Judy asked. “I was lonely,” I said. “There was a marriage site on the Internet. I filled out a form.” My legs were spread slightly apart and Jane could not resist a glance at my male sex organs. “Most of those are scams,” she said. “That’s what I thought, too,” I said. “I broke it off and stopped communicating.” “No offense to you, Tom. But most Indian families would never let their daughters marry an American nude model,” Judy said. “Yeah, that’s for sure,” Jill added. “Especially if there would be photographs of the nude model’s bare butt and male anatomy all over the place to embarrass the families.” Diane glanced at my crotch and male organs. But the glance was long and seemed deliberate as if to insinuate my indecent nude cheapness and disrepute. Her lips curled into a sneer as if she knew my answer before she asked her question. “Were you ever naked in a porn video or porn photos, Tom?” she asked as she looked up from ogling my penis. “Yeah, several,” I said. “All with black African or black American girls.” They exchanged snickers and scurrilous grins and then glanced at my male sex organs. “Did you fuck and eat pussy while naked on-camera?” Jane asked. “Yeah,” I said. They looked at one another with more snickers and smirks. “Anything else?” Jill asked me. “I gave rim jobs,” I said. They all spontaneously hooted taunting catcalls at my scandalous indecency. “You mean you licked-out dirty assholes while you were naked on-camera?” Jane asked. “Yeah,” I said. The four young Indian women shook their heads at my lack of self-respect and exchanged gossipy snickers and sneers. They all glanced at my penis to reassure themselves that I was indeed that kind of debased male slut. Once reassured, they shot me contemptuous grins. Jane leaned over and whispered something into Jill’s ear. Jill shot a glance at me and sneered. “Was your facial identity and your female co-star’s facial identity seen in these filthy porn videos and photos?” she asked. “Could people recognize who you are?” “Yes,” I said. “But the images were low-quality. I don’t think they’re around anymore.” “The reason that Jill and I are asking is that we have been doing a study of mockery of females in pornography,” Jane said. “Quite often you see porn with naked females giving blowjobs to penises,” Jill said. “But you don’t see the male’s facial identity. The whole porn sequence is shot from below the male’s waist. All you see is the facial identity of a humiliated naked female with a penis moving in her mouth.” “It’s almost impossible to find this porn practice inverted with naked identifiable males humiliated and destroyed by anonymous females receiving sexual pleasures,” Jane said. “We were talking about male analogies this morning,” Diane said. “We could not find porn where only the humiliated naked male facial identity is shown and the female is anonymously captured from the waist down with no identity revealed.” Diane leaned over and whispered something into Judy’s ear. Judy nodded and looked my naked flesh and sex-organs over for a second. It seemed clear that she had concluded that I was a shameless naked American piece-of-ass and that she could lay out a disgusting proposition to me that would be contemptuous and insulting to anyone else. “What would you say if we shot some filthy degrading porn in this room right now?” she asked me. “You will stay naked and put your white American face into Jane’s brown Indian ass and filthily lick-out her dirty asshole. We will solely shoot it from below her waist so only your white male facial identity and your shame are made public.” “Okay,” I said. All four young Indian women exchanged dirty grins of success. Jane and Jill slapped their palms together in high-fives. “Would you like to prove that to us, Tom?” Jane asked. “Will you lick my dirty asshole clean while we video and photograph you right now?” Jane asked me. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll lick all of your assholes on-camera if you want.” “That’s exactly what we want,” Judy said. “That’s so no single one of us can embarrass the others by saying who it is.” “I’m first,” Jane said. She shot me a sneer and winked as she nodded toward her ass. She stood up. Judy, Diane, and Jill headed for the video camera and the still photograph cameras. Jane took off her blue denim jeans-shorts. She had not been wearing panties under them. I looked lustfully and the inviting sexy shape of her dark-skinned Indian buttocks. Jane knelt on a sofa in the light near the two open picture windows. At the same time Judy set up the tripod of the video camera so that it focused on Jane’s bare brown ass and only recorded below her waist. Jill and Diane stood ready with their digital still cameras. “Tom, lick Jane’s asshole, and then back your face out of her ass and look at the cameras to give porn viewers a good clear look at your facial identity an your facial emotions,” Judy said. “And then put your face in Jane’s ass and lick her asshole again. And keep doing this until I tell you to stop.” “Okay,” I said. I knelt naked on the carpet below Jane’s bare brown ass. Jill and Diane’s still camera shutters were clicking off new photos. Judy’s video camera was recording. I looked over Jane’s ass and asshole for a second. Then I pressed my face into her ass and began licking around the hard flesh of her asshole. I had done it in porn before. I turned my head to the side so that the cameras could capture my face while my tongue licked around Jane’s asshole. Then I shoved my face deep into Jane’s ass and tongue-fucked her asshole. Then I back my face out of her ass and looked for a couple seconds at the video camera, and then at Jill’s still camera, and then at Diane’s still camera. Then I pressed my white face into Jane’s brown ass again and licked her asshole. I continued this for six more times in Jane’s ass. Then I did the same seven times each in Diane’s ass, Judy’s ass, and Jill’s ass. My tongue became tired from licking four Indian females’ assholes on-camera for almost a half-hour. Finally I was finished licking Jill’s asshole, and I backed my face out of her ass for the last time. All four Indian women got their clothes back on. I was still naked. “Stay her and stay naked, Tom,” Jane said. “In case we have to re-shoot something.” “Okay,” I said. Jill, Jane, Diane, and Judy worked to get the images from the cameras to the Internet. All of them examined the images to make sure that their faces stayed out of view. Only my white American face and their anonymous brown Indian asses could be seen. Jane pressed one last stroke onto the computer keyboard. “Okay, that’s it,” she announced. “It’s all over Internet now porn sites and social network media. You’re a famous asshole-licking naked filthy piece-of-ass all over the world now, Tom.” “I don’t care,” I said. We all sat down where we had been. “Did you taste any shit on my asshole,” Jane asked with a smirk. “Maybe,” I said. “We are too physically tired and emotionally drained to continue with sketching today,” Judy said. “Would you like a cold soft drink to neutralize the taste in your mouth, Tom?” Jane asked. “Yeah, thanks,” I said. She strolled to the refrigerator and took out five cans of soda pop and handed one to each of us. “Thanks for helping us out, Tom,” Judy said. “You’re welcome,” I said. “No respectable Indian family is going to let their daughter marry an asshole-licking American public piece-of-ass like you now,” Jill said. “But we may know some filthy Bollywood porno models. And there are other Indian porno models. They could hardly be against it because they’re the same kind of naked public pieces-of-ass that you are,” Jane said. “We’ll keep an eye out for you.” “I can’t spare any money to go to India,” I said. “Some of them may be rich enough to come here,” Jill said. “But we don’t know any right now.” Diane shot me a contemptuous sneer. “Would you lick her asshole every day?” she asked. She laughed at it to indicate she was joking. “Yeah, if she wanted it,” I said. “You’re a piece-of-ass, Tom,” Jane said. “But an Indian pornographic piece-of-ass might not care.” “Give us your email address,” Jill told me. “We’ll ask around.” I wrote it down and handed it to her. “Oh, here’s ten dollars for nude art modeling and naked porno modeling,” Judy said. She handed me a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks,” I said. We all finished our drinks. I walked naked across the corridor and closed my apartment door. A few days later Jane and Jill moved out of the apartment across the corridor and went back to India. Their aunt and uncle put the condominium up for sale. END