Frida's Rare & Exotic Tapes

Josh slipped the Walkman into his jacket pocket and pressed play. The first track on Silverchair's new album Frogstomp blasted into his eardrums.

The year was 1995 and Josh just graduated college. He's in that rare time between worlds. Not in school anymore and not quite in the working world. He spent his days exploring the city and his nights working as a barback. Today was Wednesday, which meant it was the day he visited the local flea market.

As he walked through the aisles of the West Hollywood Drive-In (who rents the space to a local flea market during the week), Josh Gibson scanned each table for something new. He was a regular here and was familiar with each and every vendor. What he loved most was how you never knew what kind of gems you'd find buried amongst the castaway items.

Row three, section B, table 143 was something he hadn't seen before. A curly-haired woman with dark skin and a book in hand sat behind a small row of VHS tapes. She was wearing denim overalls and a loose-fitting tee with the neckhole cut so wide it hung off her shoulder and a small silver chain that tucked into her cleavage.

"Frida's Rare & Exotic Tapes" said the handwritten sign hanging from the front of the table. None of the tapes had sleeves or stickers indicating they were from reputable studios. It was very common to see bootleg versions of movies sold here, but usually vendors tried to at least make them look legit. Josh stopped at the table and nodded at the woman with a friendly smile. She returned it and went back to reading her book. Dragging his fingers along each row, he took note of the labels. Beige masking tape lined each side and written on them in felt tip marker were random dates and times.

"Sept 26, 2 PM."

"Oct 22, 9AM."

"Jan 14, Midnight."

Picking up the last one, he flipped it over. It was completely blank except for the label. He tapped it on the table, getting the woman's attention.

"What's on these tapes?" Josh asked.

The woman looked up at him, scanning him up and down with friendly eyes. She placed her book face down on the table, reached out and took the tape from him, grazing his hand with her soft fingers as she did it.

"Hmmm, oh. This one is a county fair," she said, appraising the tape. "I think in Macon, Georgia."

"County fair? Does something happen?"

The woman chuckled.

"Of course," Frida said while using the VHS tape to punctuate her point. "Life happened. Real life. As it happened on that day."

Josh frowned at this, a bit confused.

"So it's just a recording of people doing normal things?"

Frida nodded.

"And who took it? You?" Josh asked.

She shrugged and revealed the most gorgeous, mysterious smile he'd ever seen. "Some of them, yes. Others, no."

To say he was smitten with Frida at first glance would be an understatement. The girls he'd met in college were fun and he'd had plenty of flings with them, but Frida had a more self-assured quality, like nothing could embarrass her. So many of the girls he hooked up with in college were giggly, cute and demure. Not that he minded, but hand-holding so many girls through sex became a bit of a chore. Frida, however - she seemed like she didn't need to be led anywhere by anyone.

"Sound boring to you?" she asked.

Josh shook himself from the incipient lurid daydream he was beginning to have involving those same lips that were smiling at him.

"Not at all," he said, picking up another tape. "It actually sounds really interesting. Like people-watching. When people know they're being watched, they act very differently than when eyes are on them."

Frida smiled again.

"Okay, I'll take one," Josh said, taking out his wallet. "But, you pick."

"Adventurous," Frida said.

Her eyes scanned the table and landed on Josh's face. She reached down, dragging a small metal box from under her chair. Reaching into her shirt, she pulled the necklace out, revealing a small, silver key. Using it to unlock the box, she opened it to reveal four VHS tapes. Three of them were blank, but one had masking tape along the edge: "Midnight. Full moon" was all it said. Tucking the key back into her shirt, she pulled out a tape.

"This one," Frida said, rising from her chair and leaning across her table, revealing that under her shirt and overalls there was only bare flesh.

Close. So close, she was almost nose to nose.

"What's on it?" Josh asked, gingerly taking them from her.

"They're from my special collection. I think someone of your sensibilities will enjoy them. Free of charge."

Josh started to protest, reaching for his wallet, but she insisted.

"I won't take a dime," Frida said, leaning in even closer. "But if you like what you see, you'll promise to come back and visit my table again?"

She smelled like warm jasmine and sunshine.

"Yeah. I mean, yes!"

The tape suddenly felt very heavy in his hands. Plastic, tiny screws, electromagnetic tape. But just like books are paper and glue, these tapes felt like so much more. On the train ride home, Frida's face echoed in his memory. Her shirt fell away. Her coveralls flopped to the ground. Her body was dark and sensual. Her lips were soft and supple. Her breasts fell onto his chest as her nipples grazed his own.

Josh's eyes jolted open as the train rumbled to a stop. He leapt out of his seat just in time to make it through the closing doors. He looked down at his erection straining against his pants in full view of the departing passengers.

It was still there when he put the tape in the VCR and hit play.

It was grainy and handheld, dimly lit, but the moonlight revealed just enough to show a bed covered in deep red sheets and pillows. The camera panned around to a body silhouetted in the moonlight against a bay window. Josh's dick makes the connection before his mind did: Frida. She dropped to the floor and crawled towards the camera. For some reason, no matter how close she got to the light, Josh couldn't make out her face in the darkness. Despite all that, he knew it was her. The camera panned around slowly as she crawled towards the bed, taking in every inch of her curvy body. Bare breasts rubbed against her arms as she passed by. Her ass moved side to side. The camera continued to follow her, showcasing a neatly trimmed pussy, glistening with wetness and an ass that was as round as the full moon illuminating her.

Elbows on the bed, she looked back at the camera; her face still obscured. The rest of her body was visible in the dim light. Inviting. Beckoning. Her hand snaked under her body and began to toy with her pussy, teasing her clit. Her head dropped to the mattress, but she still made eye contact with the camera. In the moonlight, her eyes practically glowed. The teasing turned more vigorous. Her fingers slipped into her wet pussy, slowly fucking herself. Those hips Josh dreamed of on the train started to grind back and forth on herself. Her other hand reached back and started drawing tiny circles around her asshole. The moans filled the room. The groans echoed off the walls.

Her eyes never left the camera's gaze.

Fucking herself harder and harder, she inserted one finger into her ass. Both holes were filled with pleasure. The person Josh knew was Frida had become unhinged. She bucked and moaned on her own fingers. Throughout the entire video she hadn't said a word aside from the pleasurable groans that come with fucking herself without mercy.

Violent bliss enclosed her body as she first came all over her fingers. Her pussy had lubricated her ass even more, allowing her to get another two fingers inside. Then again when the follow-up anal orgasm overtook her, she shuddered and cried out so loud it nearly blew out the speakers on his TV.

He was on his hands and knees in front of the boxy television; his face a few inches from the screen. His hand was down his pants. Josh didn't even realize he'd been stroking his own cock the entire time.

"Holy shit," Josh said, scrambling for the rewind button.

He ran it back and played it. There she was again, crawling towards the bed. She fingered herself in both holes until she came again.

Josh watched it again.

Each time, he realized he had been stroking his own cock, but not cumming. The video always ended just a moment too soon, breaking him out of his heady, fugue state of near-orgasm.

The tape went black followed by the white snow of static.

For the next week, every free moment Josh had, he spent watching Frida's tape. He even called out from his barback job just to have more time watching her pleasure herself. He had been stroking himself for days on end, but never reaching orgasm. By the seventh day, Frida's tape had him so wound up, he hadn't slept at all the night before. His eyes had been glued to the screen for twenty-four hours, but he still couldn't force himself to cum. Frida's body, her motions, her moans, the way she fucked herself without an ounce of reservation. He wanted to ride the high of being right on the edge of cumming with her for as long as he could.

The calendar on the wall said it was Wednesday. That meant the flea market would be back at the drive-in. That meant - Frida.

Putting on a large coat to hide his undying erection, Josh sprinted to the train, waiting impatiently at the door until his stop arrived. He sprinted up the stairs, down the block and into the entrance for the flea market.

Row three.

Section B.

There she was, smiling at him.

"The tape," Josh said, handing it back to her. "I watched it."

Frida gracefully accepted the it.

"What did you think?" she asked.

Josh looked around at the other vendors. It was as if everyone was watching him, though it was probably all in his head. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"I -," Josh started to say something cool, like he wanted to see the sequel. Or that he wondered why she gave it to him. Or even if she realized what she gave him. Instead he spoke the truth. "I've watched it every second of every day since you've given it to me."

"And?"

"And, I haven't cum once."

Frida seemed to like this. After opening the metal box again with her key, she replaced "Midnight. Full Moon." She took out another tape and handed it to Josh. He examined it, noting that it had no label of any kind.

"What's on it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Nothing?"

"Yet," she said.

She took his address and told him to take the tape back to his apartment and wait for her. When she arrived a few hours later, she carried a large tripod and a camcorder.

"Is this where you watched the tape?" she asked, pointing at the couch.

Josh nodded.

She set the camera up so the couch was in full view.

"Get undressed," she directed.

Josh got undressed.

"Sit on the couch and show me how you stroked your cock for me."

She pressed record on the camera and pulled off her shirt. Her breasts were the size of plump fall apples, and colored like deep amber. Her nipples were the perfect shade of brown. She shrugged off her overalls revealing the same neatly trimmed pussy from the tape. Josh immediately started stroking himself, not taking his eyes off her body. Frida moved slowly, rubbing her body as she lowered herself to the ground. She spread her legs, giving Josh a live reenactment of what was on the tape.

Josh stroked harder and harder as she plunged her finger into her pussy. Her other hand went into her mouth, gagging herself so more drool would coat her fingers. Then she slipped a finger into her ass. The rhythmic fucking of her own hand became more frantic. She slipped another finger into her ass, grinding back and forth on herself. Josh pumped himself furiously at this sight. Frida brought herself right to the edge and then stopped. Just like in the video, she crawled over to him, in full view of the camera's lens. Her face pressed into his cock and her tongue gave a long lick from his balls all the way up his shaft. She rested her lips on the head of his cock. The precum was bubbling out, which she lapped up.

She crawled further up his body and rubbed herself against his chest. In his ear she whispered.

"You've been stroking to me all week?"

Josh moaned in agreement.

"I've been fingering myself to you all week as well."

Josh moaned again.

It was at that moment she sat down on his cock, plunging it deep inside her pussy. She rode him up and down the same way he had stroked himself for days thinking about her. Her pussy felt swollen and hot, just like he imagined it watching her on that tape. They kissed passionately as she grabbed him by the hand and put it on her ass.

"Finger my ass while you fuck me," she directed.

He obliged. Her asshole was already wet from a mixture of her own spit and the wetness from dripping pussy that had dribbled down into her ass. As soon as he slid his index finger in, her pussy got tighter.

"Another," she directed.

When he slid his middle finger in as well, that drove her crazy. She wailed and moaned and she came on his cock. Josh had been ready to burst for days, and he almost did, but Frida stopped him. She climbed off his dick and turned around to face the camera. Spreading her cheeks, she slid her ass down on his cock, taking him completely. She leaned back so her body pressed against his.

"Oh, fuck, oh yes," she began to beg and moan. "Fuck my ass. Fuck it so hard you come deep inside. Fill my ass up with your cum."

She wasn't wailing or screaming now, she was mumbling an incoherent spell to make Josh's cock twitch and spasm. When he came, it filled her ass so full, the cum dripped back onto his cock.

The orgasm had been so intense, Josh wasn't sure he could handle it. Frida laid back on him and grinded her ass a little deeper onto his still twitching cock.

"Hmmm," she said, purring into his ear.

They both lay on the couch until Josh fell asleep.

The next morning, Josh woke in a stupor. The camera, the tape, Frida - all gone.

On the floor right where the tripod had been set up was a single business card, weighted down by the necklace Frida had worn around her neck. Josh crawled over, picked up the key and then examined the business card.

On one side in a simple serif font it read "Frida's Rare and Exotic Tapes."

On the back, handwritten: "'Ten PM, Josh's apartment.' If you want to see the tape, come find me."

Underneath was a set of days and locations written in the same handwriting Josh saw on the VHS tapes. Like a lot of flea market vendors, Frida traveled around the country selling her wares.

The next date was one week away. The location was halfway across the country.

Josh held the card to his lips and kissed it.

"I'll find you, Frida."