|Posted - Sep 13 2016 : 2:42PM|
The video shows this: A cell phone moving through the kitchen at a loud party, in to the living room. A strobe light, loud hip hop. Young bodies grinding against each other. Wonky guys hoping to see some action. The women dance and flirt, but push the guys away at the last moment. Teasing is fun. The cycle repeats as the phone moves through the crowd, bumping against swishing dark bodies until--
An opening. A couch against the wall. Some people are watching and laughing, others are steering clear and pretending nothing's going on. A guy with bleached blonde hair and gym-toned arms lies naked on the couch; a young woman in her bra and panties fellates him at one end of the couch; another young woman as naked as he sits on his face, gyrating. The cell phone pushes right up to a close up on the face-sitting woman. Her eyes, when they flutter open, are glazed over and red. She's on more than just something. Her mouth is parted in this strange suspended moan of pleasure; no sound is coming out, but the way she's moving she seems to be enjoying herself. Chuckles from behind the camera.
A voice says, "Dude..."
It pans down to the young man below her. He swishes his head from side to side. He's holding her hips with his hands and moving her around on his mouth. He's doing most of the work; she's doing some of it. The camera shows the point where her crotch meets his face and finally the young man pulls back for air. He can't be older than nineteen. Some innocent baby-face pudge. But also a glaze of vaginal fluids and eyes that look beyond stoned; this kid is blacked out. He realizes now that he's being filmed. This is how he reacts: he grins widely, raises one hand to the person behind the cell phone and gives the camera man a high five.
A voice says, "Dude, you don't know where that hand's been..."
The man goes back to his work.
The camera is moving over to the woman at the other end of the couch, her head bobbing up and down. She rolls her eyes upward and looks self-conscious. She seems less inebriated that her two cohorts. Just as the phone is moving in toward her, a male figure rushes in to the scene, shouting. "All right Dennis, get the fuck out of here," the man says in a firm voice that says he isn't quite surprised. Dennis flips him off.
"Could you turn that fucking thing off?" the man says and pushes his hand against the cell phone.
The camera guy dashes away and everything becomes momentarily blurry until he backs in to safe dark corner near the DJs computer and continues to record everything. The girl giving the blowjob gives up easily. She sits up and says that this is fucked up. She didn't ask to have her picture taken and she's "going to fucking sue you guys." Who she's referring to is unclear. She puts on her clothes beside the couch as fast as she can. The man who entered the scene stands beside the couch. Despite having a beer in his hand, he looks rather composed. It's clear that he lives in this place. He repeats what he said to the young man on the couch. "
Dennis, get your ass of my couch. Hurry the fuck up. Get the hell out of my apartment before I beat the shit out of you."
Dennis seems to be obeying at first, because he pushes the face-sitting girl off from him and sits up. But he's actually ignoring the other man completely. He goes for the girl putting her clothes on, his erect cock just swinging around.
"Rachel. Rachel, babe. Get back here. Come on now."
His voice is slurred. He is completely detached from all things.
"What's...up?" mutters the face sitting girl as if she just woke up. The man jerks her off the couch by her arm and grabs Dennis too.
This is when it escalates. Dennis pulls away and tells the man to leave him and his girls alone. The man starts yelling that Dennis has been causing a scene all night, that he's blacked out, he's drunk, he's high, he doesn't know what he's doing, he needs to leave and not come back ever. Dennis goes to grab Rachel and she moves away, seemingly trying to put the whole thing behind her. He realizes that he's probably lost her. Therefore--
The two men face off. Dennis shouts back at the man that just because he actually gets pussy doesn't mean "you have to be a tight ass." The other man jerks Dennis away and gets up in his face. They both yell some fairly abusive things at each other. Dennis' tongue is sharper. Even buck naked, he seems less afraid of causing emotional destruction. The other man feels it, which is why he pushes Dennis. At that point Dennis says, "Is it fucking on, then? Is it on?" He doesn't wait for the response. He lunges for the other man and tackles him to the ground.
They fight. And it's a spectacle. Now the dancers and revelers can't possibly ignore what's behind them. Everybody looks on. The camera pans to show the fight. Some pictures are taken. And the face sitting girl, demur on the sidelines this whole time, watching with one finger touching her lip as if carefully choosing when to step in, steps in. She's on Dennis' side. She screams at the man to get off him and leave them alone. The two men roll around on the floor swinging at each other and occasionally hitting. First Dennis is on top, then the other man. Still, one gets the feeling that Dennis will have his way. He looks like he's laughing. He's weirdly unfazed and unashamed.
A cut to black.
A bathroom. Dennis hurls in to the toilet bowl. He's wearing underwear now, but nothing else. He spits and hurls again. He flushes. He gets up and when he turns one bruised eye is visible. He pushes the cameraman out of the way, muttering "Get out of here, man, good part's over."
Cut to black.
A dark bedroom. Dennis fucks the same girl on a master bed. Some dim party noise outside. The girl yelps and yelps. Her legs flail in the air sandwiching Dennis’ pumping back. Dennis is rough. A smacking sound as he plows her.
The voice behind the camera snickers. The man says,
“I hear he’s a freshie and she’s like a grad student?”
The sound of police sirens approaching.
Another voice behind the camera says, “Shit…’
The camera backs away. One last yelp from the girl, louder this time, and the door closes. The camera shakes and jolts downwards, pointing at the shitty linoleum floor. As the operator runs, it’s all a gray blur. The sirens still sound.
Cut to black.
Real quick: A silhouette that looks like Dennis being shoved in to police cruiser, blue lights blaring in the pitch dark.
Cut to black.
Even quicker: A shaky, grainy image of a bed with stains on it.
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