Superf***er Vol. 04

I logged onto my computer. First I made reservations on a flight to Zurich--I had to work out the other end of the cash flow now that the foundation was up and running. I was hoping I could get out tonight, but it was too late by the time I looked. I found a seat on the Sunday 6pm red eye. Then I checked on the physics forum I'd joined, responding to the latest replies to my post "What if antimatter could agglomerate into heavenly bodies?" Your science is way behind on understanding antimatter, but fortunately I had 20 years to delicately sow the seeds of understanding, shaping the knowledge of the physics community so that when the comet came it would be recognized for the threat it was. That passed a little time, but I kept thinking about Amy. I shut the laptop down and stared off into space, lost in thought.

The knock at the door caught me by such surprise I thought at first it couldn't be my door. But the second knock was so loud it had to be mine. Who would be knocking on my door? It's not like I had any FRIENDS on this planet. "Hello?" I called out as I tightened my robe and headed to the peephole.

"Bill?" said a voice I could barely hear, "it's me, Amy. Can I come in?"

I went to the peephole and confirmed it was Amy—who was holding up the keys I had given her. How the hell did she find me?

I opened up the door, so surprised at her visit that I repeated her name in disbelief. "Amy?"

She jingled the keys in her hand before handing them to me. "I tried all the locks in the office—these didn't seem to belong anywhere. I knew you'd be leaving town, and I wanted to try to catch you before you left. I thought these might be important. You're not an easy man to find, you know."

Damn straight. And yet she had—good thing too, because in my discombobulation I had left the keys to some of my safety deposit boxes in Switzerland on the ring. "How DID you find me," I asked in near-panic—if she could find me, then so could a good private eye...

"I called all the best hotels in town asking to leave you a message, but they all said they had no guest by that name. Fortunately, there was a reservation confirmation in the inbox on the computer you left me, with the name you were registered under. When I called back to leave a message, the voicemail told me your room number."

I couldn't help but smile—how delightfully clever. She nodded her head slightly, which reminded me that she had asked to come in. "Oh...sorry. Yes, of course, please come in." I stepped aside and let her walk past me. "Well, if I wasn't sure before, I am now—I definitely made the right choice. That was a brilliant piece of detective work."

"Thanks," she smiled, "maybe it's not high art, but I've been putting together ideas for a detective mystery, too."

"I know I'll buy it," I replied.

Then she turned serious and now she was looking for words. "That's...not the only reason I wanted to find you."

"Hmm?"

"I..." She paused, not sure how to express what she wanted to say. "You were the first choice on my card last night, too."

Now I was the one stunned. "I was?" I eventually managed to say. If we were both our first choices, how had we not been paired?

"I mean, come on," Amy continued with exasperation, "all the other guys asked me all these questions about sex—do you shave your crotch, have you ever had sex in public, have you ever been tied up. This one guy--every single question had something to do with anal sex." I chuckled as I remembered the noises that had come from behind the partition. "But kicker was this one guy that asked me if I could swallow a banana whole. I mean, I know what he was getting at, but how the hell am I supposed to know? Why would I ever want to try? Man..." she shuddered slightly "they creeped me out! You were the only one that was different. You were the only one that seemed like you were actually interested to know something about who I was. You were the only one that seemed to appreciate that I'm a living person and not just an expensive fuck toy."

She was right—I DID want to know more about her than what her comfort requirements were. It made sense in a way--the two of us that didn't really belong there last night had the most in common with each other. "But if you were my first choice too...why weren't we paired?" Suddenly I wondered if maybe she was making this up, covering her ass somehow. Maybe my read had been completely wrong about her.

"There was this one guy, Mario, who somehow had connections with the people running the show. The hosts kept coming in and whispering things to him, and he whispered things back. Maybe it was his company, I don't know. He was the creepiest of them all—I had him LAST on my card, but was paired with him anyway. When the lights came on and I saw it was him, I figured none of the rest of you had even put me on your cards, which didn't surprise me since I didn't think I'd interviewed well. I was evasive, and I think they wanted answers that were as specific, detailed and erotic as possible."

"So when I'm looking at Mario, I felt like I was the last choice among the girls that were left, that if I was going to this it would be my one and only chance. When the music started and the others started to dance, my fear almost led me to go through with it—but he was so slimy as he sat there leering at me, I just couldn't. It felt like I was saying goodbye to the thought of ever being a writer, but it was better than prostituting myself to that slimeball."

There was a silence. "So that's why I was so stunned when you said you had me first on your card, too," she added in a lighter tone. "It took a second to compute, but there is really only one explanation..."

"He had an in and got whomever he wanted, and the rest of us got paired up with whoever was left," I finished the thought for her. I should have known better than to doubt her.

"Exactly," she nodded. "I'll bet it's his company, and he goes to every one of these events and cons some ambitious girl into giving him some free sex."

"I don't know that he's the only one," I added.

"I don't, either—and none of the other girls backstage even gave a thought to the fact that maybe were all just being played here. And that wasbefore I realized that I would be expected to have sex with anyone that picked me, right then and there. It never occurred to me that they might organize group sex in a public ballroom." I just nodded in agreement. All my instincts had been right—she WAS different from the others.

"So who did you end up getting paired with?" she said finally.

"I got matched with Shelly..." I began.

"Shelly...curly brown hair, halter top, too tan, great body?" She had a great memory.

"That's the one--but I had her fifth on my list, and I don't think I was very high on her, either."

"Did you two hit it off?"

I shook my head. "Not really...I mean, I won't lie to you, when she put her hands in my pants I didn't stop her. But she was so...calculating. You know how I said I hired you because I could sense your honesty? She was just the opposite--I didn't trust anything she said."

"So do you plan on..." she fumbled for an appropriate word.

"No...I came away from last night feeling a lot like you did. I've decided I'm not cut out to do the mistress thing. I mean, it might be nice to have a steady source of sex, but I need it to be more personal and not so...businesslike."

"You don't have a wife? Or girlfriend?" she asked with interest.

"No," I shook my head, "I travel too much--never in one place long enough to really meet someone. Oh sure, I admit it, I live the life of the playboy sometimes, but I'm always leaving town before anything can come of it."

Next thing I knew, she was standing right next to me and had her arms clasped around my waist. I quickly followed suit. "Do you believe in destiny?"

No, or I wouldn't be trying to prevent this collision with the comet. But I didn't say that; "what do you mean?" is what I said. My heart was racing with her so close--I don't know what it was about this girl that affected me so. It couldn'tjust be the red hair.

"I mean, what are the odds," she explained, locking eyes with me. "My boyfriend of three years dumps me two weeks ago, so I'm unattached. We meet at a seedy mixer that neither one of us had any business being at. We pick each other, only to be separated by insider dealings. Then the next day, the mystery job interview I'd been crossing my fingers about...turns out to be with you?"

"Pretty long odds," I agreed.

"Doesn't it make you think that maybe it wasn't by chance? Like maybe we were supposed to meet for some cosmic reason?"

"What reason might that be?" I asked.

She didn't answer--instead, she craned her neck up towards me and kissed me.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," I stammered, "now that you're employee of the foundation."

"No I'm not," she answered slyly, "you haven't signed the hiring papers yet, because I haven't filled them out yet." She was watching me with a dreamy look. "And I'm still mad about last night. I was deprived of my chance to dance for you!"

"Is that something you want to do?" I questioned. She didn't answer; she shot me an eyebrow, got a devilish look on her face, and gently pushed me towards the overstuff chair in the corner. I sat down an eagerly awaited what kind of show I might get.

Amy strutted over towards me. She put her hands on the arms of the chair, leaning over me. She flipped her head so her hair hung down, then she brushed my chest with it. Flipping her head back upright, she placed one foot on the arm of the chair. She had on black heels with a strap at the ankle, the kind of shoes a dancer might wear. She leaned over onto that leg, undoing the strap. Then she stood back up, lifted the leg, took off the shoe, and placed it on my lap. Something in the way she looked at me while she did told me she wanted me to keep it there. OK.

She did the same on the other side. Then, with a slow sensual spin, she moved over to the bed about five feet away and sat down. She pulled her tight skirt even tighter, then slowly, teasingly inched it higher. I kept watching, marveling at her slender thighs, waiting to see her underwear. But just before it got that high, Amy suddenly stood up, slipped her hands up under her skirt, and pulled her panty hose down below her knees. Sitting again, she put her legs together almost as if she were riding sidesaddle. She lifted her feet to the bed and pulled off her stockings from the toes, one foot and then the other.

Tossing them behind her, she got up again and strutted over to me. Taking the one shoe off my lap, she kicked her leg up before placing it on the arm of the chair--and putting the shoe back on. Standing back up, she leaned over me and whispered "one of the guys last night made sure that I understood that it was very, very important that I always wear high heels--especially in bed. I didn't realize that was such a thing for guys--guess you learn something new every day." Then she put the other one back on. I like heels, but I don't have any particular fetish about them. They really made Amy's calves look that much more shapely, though, so I kind of liked the fact that she'd put them back on.

Standing in front of me, she slipped off her blazer and tossed that aside, too. Then she sat lightly on my lap, moving her tushy to a music only she could hear. She was the total opposite of Shelly; Amy's dancing would certainly never be mistaken for a stripper, but Shelly was all technique while Amy's heart was in it, and so Amy's was having more of an effect.

Amy suddenly stopped. "I'm not sure what to do next," she admitted innocently.

"How about a different kind of dancing?" I suggested. She stood, and we put our arms around each other again. Then we started swaying gently from side to side. Almost immediately we were kissing. It felt so good, and we stayed that way for a long time. Finally Amy lay her head down on my shoulder, still swaying, arms around my neck. It felt good just to be so close to her.

"So what got you all excited before, back at the office?" she quizzed suddenly.

I stopped dancing, and took a half-step back. "There's this line of freckles," I said softly, touching the base of her neck. "It looks like this little trail that goes here...and here...and here..." I continued, softly tracing a path on the flat of her chest. "And the trail keeps going right up to here," I finished, touching the V of her blouse's collar, "I keep trying to imagine where the trail leads."

"You're really silly," she smiled affectionately. She slipped her fingers up and undid the top button. "So where does it go now?"

Another inch of cleavage showed, and I could see the path I imagined on her skin continue south. I followed traced my finger down to the crest of her cleavage, stopped by a button yet again. "Here."

She undid another. "And now?" She watched with amusement as I traced my path along her skin.

The path headed into the valley between her breasts--but I was soon stopped again, this time by her bra. "Foiled again," I sighed.

She loosened another button, and then like a magician's sleight of hand undid her bra, which clasped in the front. "And now?"

The path I imagined went downwards a little further and then curved to the side and broadened. Very slowly and deliberately, I traced down, then over, pushing lightly up and over against the cup. It obediently yielded the right of way to my finger. I traced up the delicate curve of her breast, finding that the freckles suddenly thinned as the breast rose up. I traced softly along the soft skin, pale white like fine china, until I reached her nipple.

Her nipple was the stuff of poetry. I'm no poet, for which I'm sure you're thankful, but it was just the perfect nipple. It was pale pink, the lightest color I'd ever seen, reflecting her pale complexion. And somehow the proportion of nipple to areole was exactly what it should be. Her breast wasn't especially big, but it somehow just had the right shape. It felt like if you didn't know what a breast was and looked it up, you'd find a picture of Amy's tit in the dictionary. "It looks like it ends...here."

"My, isn't that fortunate?" she teased. Indeed it was. I leaned forward and kissed the breast, then gently suckled the pale nipple. I felt Amy sigh lightly, and she gently played with the hair on the back of my head in encouragement. With my other hand, I just as slowly pushed the other half of her bra to the side. I ran my fingers along the soft, smooth skin of her breast, circling my way around until I reached the nipple. It was already erect when I got there. I very gently kneaded it between the tip of my thumb and forefinger, which of course sent pleasurable currents through the sensitive flesh. "Ohh," she sighed softly as she responded to a pleasure the likes of which she had never felt before.

I was so enraptured by her delicate breasts that I wasn't attending to my own erection. I forgot that I was just wearing a bathrobe. As my dick got hard, it neatly poked through the folds of my robe. I didn't realize I'd been poking her with my rod until I felt her gently touch it with her warm hand.

"Oh...I'm sorry," I said, backing away slightly, "I didn't mean to poke you..."

"My god!," Amy interrupted, "is that really allyou?" She pulled the bottom of my robe apart like a curtain so she could see my entirety. "Holy...!" she proclaimed, looking up at me with eyes flashing with intrigue, "you're practically as big as my forearm!" I just shrugged with a wry smile.

Bending one knee, she quickly untied my belt so my robe hung open. Then she bent the other, kneeling before me, stroking and eying the fearfully large monster. She wrapped her hand around me near the top and stoked me with short strokes. At the same time she kissed my underside down to my balls, which she paused to kiss and lick. Then she kissed her way back up again. When she got to where her hand was, she moved both hands to form a base for me, keeping it stable while pointing it right at her face. Then she kissed all the way to the tip, where she stuck out her tongue and licked circles around me. Then she opened wide and took the tip into her mouth.

"Mmmm," I sighed softly as I felt the wet, warm softness of the inside of her mouth. She focused on the tip, taking only a couple of inches in, but working very actively on them while I was in her mouth. She took me in a little deeper each time, until her lips met her cupped hands holding me in place. She sucked with concentration, not just on what she was doing but also on how it felt to hold me in her mouth. It was awesome.

As I am wont to do, I reached down and played with her nipples while she sucked my dick. I could feel them straining in response to my microcurrents. She dropped her hands for a moment to undo the last button of her blouse and toss if behind her, followed immediately by her bra, doing both without affecting the rhythm of the blowjob. Then she grasped me again, sucking. I looked down with admiration at the fine porcelain skin, artfully dotted with freckles, bare to the waist. I touched her shoulders; they were slight of frame, and yet the muscles were toned from hours of exercise. As she bobbed her shoulders to and fro, I could see with clear definition the outline of each abdominal muscle appear and then disappear in relation to her movements. I wanted to touch them, but my arms couldn't reach. I settled for pleasuring her nipples again instead.

She sucked me for a long time. I don't know if she was persistently trying to suck me off, or just enjoying what she was doing. Finally, she stood up, put her arms around my neck and kissed me again. I kissed her back, but I fumbled to find the zipper of her skirt. I was feeling around the back; she lowered her hands and guided them to the side, where it actually was. Still kissing, we fumbled together to get her skirt off as fast as possible. We must have looked like two teenagers in the back seat of a car. When it fell, her hands moved to my shoulders, where she helped me drop my robe. Then she took my face in her hands and, still kissing, pulled me back towards the overstuffed chair.

We got there sooner than she expected; she tripped and fell backwards into it. Quick as a flash, I was on my knees, whipping off her panties and burying my face in her snatch. She had a patch of dark red pubic hair that was neatly trimmed as a country club lawn. I mashed my nose into the red lawn and licked the tender warmth underneath. I felt the tiny nubbin of her clitoris, and beneath it hot, smooth flesh that tasted increasingly like female excitement.

Amy threw her legs over the sides of the chair, running both hands through my hair as I ate her out. The longer I licked, the more her hips rocked against my tongue. I could hear her breath start to get shallow in excitement. I realized I might be able to bring her off without even having to use my charged fingers, and decided to try. She was breathing heavy, rocking hips--and seemingly stuck, frustratingly stalled just short of climax and unable to break through. My chin was now dripping from her secretions, but she couldn't quite cum. I knew I could get her off in a second with my fingers, but I was taking it as a personal challenge to see if I didn't have to. Ah...stupid me. Why didn't I think of it sooner? I reached my hands up and tweaked her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers. That provided just the extra nudge she needed. She wailed "Oh...oh" almost like she was crying, and I felt shudders shaking her entire body.

I looked up, happy, face still between her thighs. She dropped her legs, bent over, grabbed my face and kissed me, not phased at all by the fact I was covered in her pungent juices. I noticed that her skin from her neck to her breasts was glowing softly pink. I felt her reach for my dick and stroke it, but I hadn't softened in the least in the time I was lovingly tasting her. She leaned back in the chair again, stroking, and lined up my dick with the opening of her vagina. She pushed the head in slightly, parting the lips. I provided the rest of the thrust, filling her to the top. She lifted her feet straight up, resting them on my shoulders. I put my hands on her hips and thrusted, feeling her soft tissues gripping me as I slid in and out. She steadied herself by holding on to my arms. I penetrated her slowly and with feeling. I kissed the shapely calf and ankle by my shoulder. She gave a little smile and blinked affectionately. I watched--she was gorgeous beyond description as she lay there, satisfied and pleasured by my actions, happily offering the most private part of herself to me.