Chapter 3

Then it was over, and I became aware that the goose bumps on my neck were coming from Jack's lips, not the aftereffects of my orgasm. I felt the need to say SOMETHING about the incredible experience I'd just gone through, so I said, "Wow! That was..." -- but I really couldn't find words to complete the thought properly.

Jack couldn't either, it seemed; he limited himself to, "Yeah..." I couldn't blame him. After a moment, he raised himself and started to back out of me -- and I became aware that the flood I'd felt him deliver at the gates of my womb had been every bit the size it had FELT like it was; I could FEEL it oozing between his shaft and my inner walls and dribbling along my perineum and between my butt cheeks! Jack stopped; the ring at my vaginal opening refused to pass the flange of his glans. He looked down and said, "Big mess here; if you aren't on birth control, you've been bred..."

My mind went totally blank; I don't think he noticed, and I was grateful -- because I AGREED with him -- and I was NOT on birth control! I mean, before that night, the logic was unassailable, you know? No boy had EVER touched me, and birth control messed up your hormones and did things to your metabolism -- and I had ENOUGH problems with THAT -- so why bother? Now, I had what seemed to be a quart of potent, fertile male seed being pressed back and forth along the channel that granted access to the depths of my womanhood; could I FAIL to get pregnant?

Jack backed his cock to my opening several times and the crown of his glans continued to snag against the ring at my opening -- and he seemed to be enjoying it. I lay beneath him, mentally drawing the parallel between the situation and two dogs knotted in heat; that made me a bitch, didn't it? Then he punched forward and I realized that it wasn't just his glans that was still sizeable -- he was still hard! I didn't even think about it; I crossed my ankles behind his butt again in case he was thinking about going somewhere...

He wasn't. The first few strokes of his piston pumped goo out of me, improving the contact between it and my cylinder -- but it probably also pushed about a zillion wigglers through my cervix and into my womb! I decided that I would worry about that later -- the pleasure was too intense! I was peripherally amazed -- didn't guys shrink after they came? Jack apparently didn't... and I wasn't complaining! The act we entered into lasted several times as long as the first time -- long enough for me to have orgasm after orgasm until I was nearly mindless from the pleasure! He pushed my legs up and put his hands behind my knees and rocked and pumped and bashed my clit with his pubic bone and I grunted and made animal noises and slipped into nirvana -- God, I don't know -- seven or eight times! Then he filled me again, and while it might not have matched the first time for volume, the flood was copious! This time he collapsed atop me and went limp -- and I went to sleep caressing his hard, sweaty body while I waited for his probe to deflate...

I woke later to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I managed to awaken Jack and get him to roll off me then went hunting for my discarded purse and dug in it for my phone. "Hullo?"

A familiar voice snarled, "Where ARE you?" and I flinched.

" Momma?"

"Oh, you remember me! Do you know what time it is? I've been sitting here, waiting and waiting, worrying about where you are and if you've been in an accident or something..."

Contrite, I muttered, "I'm sorry, Momma -- I went out with..." Then I eyed Jack and realized that I could NOT tell Momma I was out getting deflowered by a guy I'd only met three or four hours before! Fortunately, Momma wasn't done ranting...

"Why didn't you call? You HAVE a cell phone! Are you TRYING to give me white hair?" When I didn't answer immediately, she prompted, "Well?"

"Yes, Momma, I should have..." I tossed out the first tale that would seem to fit the facts, "We were, uh, drinking, so I couldn't drive..."

"Well you STILL could have TOLD me!"

"Uh huh, we were a little crazy and I forgot to call... "

"Well, if you've gone and gotten drunk, DON'T go driving NOW!" Momma admonished.

I knew I was going to get a lecture about how disappointed she was with me when I got home -- and I wondered what her reaction would be if she discovered what I'd REALLY been doing while I assured her, "No, I won't... I'm sorry, Momma..."

"Yes, well, I'll see you later, then," Momma replied -- and it was a threat.

I hung up, embarrassed, mumbling, "My momma..." After a moment, I added, "I can't go home now, because she doesn't want me driving drunk -- and I told her I was..." Somewhere in the conversation with Momma I'd realized that we'd probably done everything Jack had planned for the evening and it was time for him to send me away. This was just about the point in time where stupid girls like me ended up standing on a street corner with their panties in their hands and Romeo's seed running down their legs, an empty promise of a phone call and a full womb...

But Jack proved that he wasn't THAT dastardly, at least. Instead, he grunted and said, "Good, you can keep me warm. Give me a minute to find a towel to cover the swimming pool and we can go back to sleep. What time do you need to get up?"

I was grateful beyond words, both for the continuing welcome and for the offer to cover the wet spot. I'd heard of such, but it hadn't prepared me for the huge wet puddle we'd generated in that bed! "Nine? I need to go home and change, but I don't go in until eleven-thirty..."

"I have a nine o'clock interview," he replied, "and I need to be fed and presentable beforehand. If we do six we can have breakfast somewhere..."

"That's fine..." At least I was going to get to eat before he told me, 'Alas, you're not my type...'

Worry was just too difficult with his hard body pressed against my back and my bubble butt, his somewhat lank erection trapped between my thighs and pressed against my nether lips and his left hand cradling my left breast and teasing the nipple. I went to sleep with his breath tickling my neck, and while I awoke several times due to being unfamiliar with the novel sensations of having a bed partner, I was never awake for long...

The alarm went off ten minutes later it seemed like, and I was unfamiliar with my surroundings and thrashed around looking for it and nearly broke the damned thing in half trying to shut it off. When it was over, I was more or less vertical though, and I looked at my bed partner as she gazed back, bleary-eyed. Frankly, I more or less expected that I would get the standard bachelor morning-after jolt; reality would flood in and I would blame who I had in bed with me on what I'd had to drink the night before, then work on being civil long enough to put her on the street wherever it was that she wanted to be left off and then disappear after -- if necessary -- providing a fictitious phone number.

Only I hadn't been drinking and she still looked good, lying there in the bed... Taking inventory, I realized that Beth resembled an ancient tribal fertility goddess more than a Barbie doll, with her pear shape and her underinflated breasts -- but that didn't bother me a whole helluva lot. In daylight, she seemed to be about optimal for the type, in that she didn't sport a big saggy belly, in particular -- but I'd known that; it would have gotten in the way of the incredible sex we'd had the night before. Besides, I'd felt it several times. The ass was DEFINITELY there -- and it didn't bother me, either. Her hair had escaped from whatever she'd tied it back with and was a springy halo on the pillow -- VERY fetching. I crawled atop her and asked from a distance of maybe two inches, "How did you sleep?"

She put her hand in front of her mouth and said, "Fine," and I realized that she figured at least one of us probably had morning breath. I didn't give a shit; I peeled her hand away and kissed her -- and after a moment, she got into the spirit of things and we turned it into something nice.

We had things to do, though, so I rolled off her and said, "If you have to pee before I shower, you should go now." She could have peed while I was in the shower and unless flushing screwed up the water temperature, I wouldn't have cared -- but I'd learned that women had issues about such things. Beth smiled and scooted down to get off at the foot of the bed and I watched that ass sway off toward the bathroom. Yeah, it wasn't a problem...

What WAS a problem was the fact that I had maybe a week on the ground on Earth and then I was headed back to Nuevo Angelino. If I was staying on Earth, Beth wouldn't be a problem; similarly, if I was porting out in thirty minutes, she wouldn't be, either, one way or the other. But for her to operate in the dark for a week meant I was going to have to lie my ass off if I wanted to keep her -- which would damage things down the road... Try as I might, I had no plan for handling the issues involved.

We didn't make love (or even fuck) and we didn't shower together; I'm a little numb in the morning and that can lead to a LOOONG session -- and Beth was already bowlegged from the previous night. I think showering together is fun -- but in a shower, not in a tub with a curtain and one shower head. Still, I took at least one opportunity to maul her titties and rub her bare ass and she seemed receptive. Lots of chicks aren't; they get wrapped around the axle over you invading their personal space or whatever. I'm a touchie-feelie type of guy -- it's one of the ways I express myself; if she'd had big problems with where my hands were going, it could turn into a long-term issue...

Once we were both dressed, I took her to one of those chain places known for their breakfast. In the window, they had a sign indicating how many pickups had been done from the chain. It gave me an opening, so I waved at it and asked, "So you want to be picked up?"

Beth nodded, "Yes."

"Um, what about your mom?"

"She wants me to be picked up, too."

"You'd be leaving her behind..."

Beth shrugged. "It's how it is. She understands. It's a forlorn hope, anyway."

I got us on the waiting list for a table -- thankfully a shorter one -- then turned to her, "Why?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I think you're cute..."

"Yeah." She grinned impishly and held up a hand, "How many fingers?"

"Oh, so I'm blind?" I laughed.

"Or something."

I let it ride until we were seated, then decided that if I could back into it, I might get a CAP score. "Okay, so, you've got this thing about your looks. They tell you that scores are more important -- and lots of guys are looking for mommies..."

Beth mused a moment, drawing figures on the table top. "I have good scores for that, even though I don't have kids. But you know how pickups go -- 'Get undressed. Okay, gimme a blowjob!' If I didn't flunk the undressing phase, one look at the hardware in my mouth..."

The AI lit me up then with "Elizabeth Hopkins possesses a CAP general score of four point seven with excellent nurturing scores and good scores for what you would call 'common sense.' Higher mathematics skills are lacking, but that is not an everyday requirement for a concubine..." I rolled my eyes, cursing myself; of COURSE the AI could get her scores, given several hours in which to do it...

"What was that?" Beth asked. I realized that the eye roll was getting me into trouble.

"I'd trust you," I told her.

"Well, I'm not exactly practiced..." She was still eyeing me and I resolved to be VERY CAREFUL about back-channel communication with the AI. Fortunately, the waiter showed up and plunked down our coffee and some creamers. Waitresses tended to be REALLY homely or they were likely to get extracted, so guys were slowly filling the slots left vacant -- gays in particular. Grimacing, I watched ours sway off...

We got through breakfast pretty quietly after that, both of us tied up with our own thoughts, I guess. I took her back to her car and it was sort of like things had been seven or eight hours before; things needed to be said and done and nobody really wanted to go there. Finally, I said, "Can I see you tonight?"

Beth looked up like the request was unexpected. "If Momma doesn't lock me in..."

"You're kidding, right? You're, what, twenty something?" I snorted.

"Yeah, well, remember that I lied to her about drinking. She's gonna be pissed. Besides, we can't do what we did LAST night -- a second sleepover would be... fishy..."

"Yeah..." I had to think about this. If I was going to be living here, we had all the time in the world. I wasn't -- but if I ACTED like I wasn't, Beth would be suspicious. Her first assumption -- that I was a traveling salesman in for the week -- would be wrong -- or would it, in the grand scheme of things? At some point I was going to have to come clean -- but the closer we got to the extraction date, the better. In the meantime, if she asked no questions I was able to tell no lies... "Okay, dinner, no movie, and some quality time somewhere?"

Beth eyed me suspiciously. "What's quality time?"

'Sex, you little idiot!' "Necking?"

"Okay." No, she wasn't stupid -- I could tell from the way she said it -- but I wasn't either, and if I openly declared sex as a primary objective, it was the same thing as telling her that was all I wanted her for. So I indicated that what we were doing was within a relationship, not the relationship itself -- which was only the truth... She cocked her head and added, "Maybe at my house?"

I knew a trap when I heard one. She was testing me; I'd gotten past the first hurdle, but she wanted a bit more... "Sure," I replied, poker-faced. Even money said she did NOT want to parade me in front of her mother -- but in the off chance she did, Momma could meet her new son-in-law -- or analogue thereof. I could play that game for a week; Momma would get only so many chances to throw rocks...

Beth looked closely to see if I was serious, smiled hugely, and got out of the car. "Seven-thirty?"

"Yeah, hey, give me your cell number!" I yelled. She came back and I got her number and gave her the one for my 'Blackberry' (which was a whole lot more complex than it looked) and she swayed to her car, smiling. I waited until her junker started, then checked in with Mark; it was time to get on with the mission...

If the alarm clock had had a neck, Jack would have wrung it, I think; as it was, I figured both of them had to be the worse for the wear when he finally stopped scrambling and turned the thing off! I wouldn't have been surprised to see it broken in half in his hands! As a result the blankets were God knew where and I was lying on my back, naked, on full display as I rubbed the sleep from my bleary eyes -- and Jack was looking when I got them working. Still, he seemed happy... The next thing I knew he was on top of me, his face WAY too close to mine as he asked, "How did you sleep?"

I covered my mouth to keep my morning breath from knocking him out and mumbled, "Fine," but he didn't let it go at that; he dragged my hand away and kissed me -- and when I got over the surprise, I returned it.

After we'd kissed some, he rolled off and offered, "If you have to pee before I shower, you should go now." Momma says guys tend to want to hit the bathroom first, so I took the offer in the spirit it had been given and scooted to the foot of the bed and went off to the toilet.

Peeing was a bit more complicated than usual; my poor puss felt like it had swollen up to half again its normal size and it was somewhat tender -- AND it seemed that once I managed to get vertical, there was some leftover goo that had been puddling towards the back of my vagina that insisted upon dribbling out. Well, if I was lucky it was the back of my vagina; I had a suspicion that it had been deeper than that... Anyway, when I managed to get most of the mess under control, I headed back out and Jack grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace and mauled my boobies and grabbed a big handful of my butt and squeezed it -- and I luxuriated in it. After all, it was male attention, and even Daddy wasn't gonna play with my boobs or my butt... Who knew how long it would be before some guy stepped up to the plate and did it again? If Jack was happy letting his fingers do the walking, I was MORE than happy to be the Yellow Pages...

Then he showered and I showered and he dressed in a nice-looking suit and I crawled back into my work uniform and somewhat scummy panties; it was that or none at all, which isn't really a choice in jeans, even the stretch type. Then Jack took me to a breakfast place. On the way in he waved at a sign in the window that proclaimed that a good number of extractions had taken place in SOME restaurant in the chain and asked, "So you want to be picked up?"

Well, duh! I kept it simple. "Yes."

"Um, what about your mom?"

"She wants me to be picked up, too," I replied.

"You'd be leaving her behind..."

I realized that I'd missed the boat with his earlier question -- but it didn't matter a whole lot, given how pickups were handled, so I shrugged and said, "It's how it is. She understands. It's a forlorn hope, anyway."

Jack put us on the waiting list for a table and then asked why. I was a little non-plussed, you know? I look in the mirror every day, whether I want to or not... "You're kidding, right?"

"I think you're cute..." he insisted.

I thought HE was cute, too -- for that comment, if nothing else. But he didn't seem to be connected to reality, so I grinned at him and waved a hand, "How many fingers?"

He laughed. "Oh, so I'm blind?"

"Or something," I agreed.

I thought it was a dead issue, but he took another run at it after we sat down. "Okay, so, you've got this thing about your looks. They tell you that scores are more important -- and lots of guys are looking for mommies..."

I sat there, kind of taking out the dream and playing with it before sighing and bursting the bubble for both of us, "I have good scores for that, even though I don't have kids. But you know how pickups go -- 'Get undressed. Okay, gimme a blowjob!' If I didn't flunk the undressing phase, one look at the hardware in my mouth..."

Jack got an odd look on his face -- surprise, mostly -- then rolled his eyes. The whole thing didn't make sense, so I asked, "What was that?"

He came back with, "I'd trust you..."

"Well, I'm not exactly practiced..." I pointed out -- but I still wasn't sure that was all there was to it -- but then a VERY gay waiter -- really swishy -- came up and gave us coffee and Jack kind of dropped the whole thing.

So we ate -- and didn't talk much; I was already gearing up for the parking lot scene. Jack had been VERY sweet and I'd been a complete fool and we'd had a wonderful time -- but, well, I didn't expect there to be a second date. Jack surprised me, though, with, "Can I see you tonight?" as we sat in the lot next to my car.

The first thought that went through my brain -- and straight out my mouth -- was, "If Momma doesn't lock me in!"

Jack looked at me like I was pulling his chain and snorted, "You're kidding, right? You're, what, twenty something?"

He was right, actually -- EARLY twenty-something -- but don't ask, because that's ALL you get! "Yeah, well, remember that I lied to her about drinking. She's gonna be pissed. Besides, we can't do what we did LAST night -- a second sleepover would be... fishy..." I reminded him. 'Fishy' came to mind because it was more or less how my crotch felt -- and smelled, given the way I'd gotten first aroused and later inseminated and the crotch of my panties was carrying the evidence of both...

"Yeah..." He got it -- and did what seemed to me to be a LOT of heavy thinking. I did NOT want to discourage him, but I really didn't know if I COULD go another round like the one we'd had the night before -- and expecting to be able to blithely announce to my folks that I was going to be out all night two nights in a row was going beyond the realm of sanity. But he made an offer, anyway, "Okay, dinner, no movie, and some quality time somewhere?"

'Quality time?' I was instantly suspicious. I AM female, you know! "What's quality time?"

Jack's eyes got that hot look, but he answered, "Necking?"

'Yeah, right!' I thought -- but at least he hadn't come out with 'sex!' THAT would have been an announcement that I was slated to become his personal cum-dumpster! "Okay," I replied -- then I dug the pit and put the sharpened stakes in the bottom and spread the leaves on top before inviting him to step into it... "Maybe at my house?"

Jack wasn't stupid, though; he brought a wide plank and dropped it across the pit before he walked across! "Sure!" he said, poker-faced.

He sure called MY bluff! I gave him a couple of seconds to follow up with, "Gotcha!" then pasted a big smile on my face and said, "Seven-thirty?" I'd painted ME into a corner, now, I realized... I got out of the car and headed for mine, wondering how he was going to back out when he yelled, "Yeah, hey, give me your cell number!" THAT question was answered... I went through the drill, giving my number and taking the undoubtedly fictitious one he gave me and got in my car, kicking myself for being SOOO smart that I scared the only guy who had ever taken an interest in me off after one date...

Momma lit into me with both feet -- but I was already so down on myself that she barely left an impression. The whole 'my house' thing had seemed like a stroke of genius when I'd come up with it -- only when it left my lips did I realize that it was GUARANTEED to make Jack run like a rabbit! Fortunately, Momma mistook depression for a hangover... I went upstairs and washed and douched my poor swollen puss and wondered if on top of being the victim of my own big mouth and a participant in one of the world's shortest love affairs, I was also a mother-to-be... Wouldn't THAT just ice the cake? New work clothes and an attempt to get SOME control over my hair later, I headed out for another day of price-checks and 'Does the debit card go this way or that way?'

I was clocked in and halfway to my register when Frieda looked up and said, "So, how did...?" Then her eyes bugged out and she came rushing over to me and hissed, "You FUCKED him!" in a stage whisper.

I blushed to the roots! "NO!"

"Liar! Don't bullshit ME!" Frieda insisted.

Totally paranoid, I asked, "Is it written on my face?"

Frieda grinned and murmured, "Well, there's that muffler burn on your neck, but the dead giveaway is that waddle..."

I covered my face. "Oh my God..."

Frieda dragged me toward the break room, whispering "How was it?"

"Omigod!" I replied in a totally different tone of voice, after glancing around for witnesses. "It was Heaven!"

"No! Did you cum?"

"Eight or nine times!" I replied. "I mean, it hurt a little at first, but he..."

Frieda looked stricken. "That's right -- you're a vir...!"

"SHHHH!" That does NOT work well with a lisp, I might add! "Quiet, for God's sake!" I howled in a stage whisper. "Besides, I was then, but I'm not now..." I was pleased for a moment, then depression set in. "That's probably the best part, since I blew it this morning!" I went on to explain to her the blonde moment I'd had over checking to see whether sex was all that was on Jack's mind.

"You asked him to go to your house?" Frieda asked, aghast. "Yeah, you blew THAT one... Better write this one up in your diary while it's fresh, because you'll be crying on THAT page when you're ninety!"

"Yeah, thanks," I sighed, "You're a BIG help!"

Frieda shook her head, eyeing the lost cause I represented. "Well, we might as well go out and open the registers," she sighed.

The day dragged on FOREVER! I mean, I KNEW what was gonna happen, but you know, until it does you go back and forth, hoping for a miracle. Seven-thirty came and went and I had my confirmation...

Then at seven forty-five while Frieda and I were trying to pick out a place to get REALLY drunk to celebrate my foolishness, my cell rang! "Beth? It's Jack..."

"Hi..." Well, at least he was going to actually go through the motions of kicking me to the curb, even if it WAS over the phone...

"Hey, sorry I'm late -- we ran into some issues and the negotiations have gone into overtime..."

'Okay, so, he's gonna pull my leg tonight and do the rest later...' "Uh huh..." I grunted listlessly.

"I have to do dinner with these guys, it turns out..."

"Yeah, I understand..." I was getting the phone wet. Why couldn't he just say, 'So long, Sucker!' and get it over with? This was like taking a knife!

"So, uh, do you, um, have a dress or something?"

"What?"

"Well, I thought I'd pick you up and, you know, bring you along. They're going to a nice place, I'm told..."

"Uuuhhh..." My knees wobbled. I had tunnel vision. "You mean, like, dress-up? Fancy dinner out? With other people?"

"Yeah..." His voice sounded kind of confused -- like mine... "Hey, if they don't like the way you talk, fuck 'em, you know?" I suddenly realized that he was taking a stab at the problem -- and we were on TOTALLY different wavelengths!

"I'll... find something..." I said faintly.

"Okay, I know it's short notice -- but it's supposed to be a nice place," Jack insisted. "Antoine's? Maybe you've heard of it..."

"Uh huh..." was all I could get out.

"Give me your address," Jack directed. "We have reservations for nine, so I'll come by and get you in an hour, okay?"

I didn't recognize the voice that gave him my address, but I'm sure it was mine. He hung up and I stood there, dazed.

Frieda was looking at me oddly. "What did he say, Hon?"

"He asked me if I had anything to wear to Antoine's..."

"HOLY SHIT!" Frieda exclaimed, "You'll need help..."

I needed more than that! The next thing on the agenda was for me to squall "OMIGAAAAWD!" and go into hysterics! The anticipation, followed by the total left turn and the wash of emotions my miracle reprieve brought with it was too much for me to handle! Frieda ended up driving me home...

Momma shit a brick! I came staggering into the house, obviously in a frazzled mental state, with a muffler burn on my neck (somehow, she'd missed that during her morning harangue -- and I'd totally forgotten about it, so it wasn't due to any conniving on MY part). And Frieda, translating for me, announces that I need to be ready to go to THE restaurant in town in forty minutes and a MAN was picking me up!

I really didn't have a suitable dress, so we faked it. Momma got out my black push-up bra and we found a nice top that presented my boobies well (once they were raised into position, anyway) and we put me in a black wraparound skirt and heels. Frieda got my hair under some kind of control with some combs and applied my makeup (too much eyeliner, as usual) and I had like eight seconds before there was a knock on the door and Momma threw it open to reveal Jack...