A Motive with a Universal Adapter 02

"Cab," I replied at once. "There's no way I can focus on driving right now... Hey do you have any cigarettes?"

"Sorry, I'm out."

"Dammit."

We huddled under my umbrella in the taxi queue, and I was barely able to steel myself against the heat of Ritz's body pressed against me. The way her hip rolled against mine when she turned into me and put her arm around my waist had me biting my lip and squeezing the foam umbrella handle like an eager cock. When we finally slid into a cab, we must have both let our guard down, because when her thigh brushed against mine I groaned out loud.

And so did she.

We looked at each other for a moment, my eyes reflected back at me, and I swear the jezi had me so "open-minded" I was about two seconds away from kissing her when the cabbie interrupted.

"Where to, ladies?"

"Oh, uh... Uh, Corporate Center." I blushed and gave him the address. In the rainbow of colored lights glimmering on the dark street, I couldn't tell if Ritz blushed too, but she turned away quickly and scooted all the way against the far door.

"I don't know how you did this last time," I whispered. "I want to hike up my skirt and buff my bean so fucking bad."

"I had you to keep me focused last time," Ritz murmured from the other side of the car. "And that was barely enough. Just hang in there, Rhoades. As soon as we're done we'll find a couple of outputs and get ourselves laid properly."

"I should call Owl," I mused. "Did you and Owl ever... y'know?"

"Owl? So not my type. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy... but he's such a dork."

"Mmmm... I like dorky outputs. I like a guy who's gentle and a little timid and does what I tell him." I couldn't stop myself from pushing two fingers between my blouse buttons and caressing a swollen nipple through my bra.

"Not me," Ritz rasped. "I like a physical guy, someone with stamina."

"You mean like Carl the bouncer?"

"Oh god, could you imagine climbing Mount Carl?" Ritz slumped back and her fingers dug into the upholstery at the edge of the seat.

"Not me," I whispered, closing my eyes and imagining Owl's stainless steel fingers pressing slowly into my dripping input. "I'm afraid of heights."

I don't know why she found that funny, but Ritz burst into laughter. I don't think I'd heard her laugh before. It was a rich, melodious sound, and infectious as well, because she started me laughing too.

After changing routes three times to find a quicker way through the rain-slowed traffic, the cab finally dropped us off in front of the building. An ICS production assistant was waiting for us out front under an umbrella held in the cyber-arm he'd rolled up his sleeve to expose..

"Ms. Rhoades?" he asked as we got out of the taxi.

"Yes, present. Here." I nodded as he checked a clipboard, and gestured to us to follow him inside.

"You're late, but not too late. Welcome to ICS, I'm Jeremy." He collapsed the umbrella, shook the dirty rain from the loose canopy, and then folded it back into the housing of his forearm.

He was so totally cute and intense, with a dark mystery about him that said 'This is not a technician. This is an artist.' He'll be behind an anchor desk someday, you just wait. I wanted him behind me tonight.

"Hi Jeremy, I'm Abby," I offered my hand when he turned his attention back to us. "This is Ritz. We're scheduled to do an interview on the news tonight." A perfectly normal thing to say. But I didn't stop there. "Well, I'm doing the interview, Ritz is being interviewed. But you knew that, right? Of course you knew that. Duh. You've been promoting it all day. I mean, look—there it is on the screen behind you right now. See, there's Ritz. Hi, Ritz. So, yeah, that's the interview we're here for and... I'm sorry I'm talking so much, it's just that you're really gorgeous, and I kinda wanna have your baby and-- Oh shit, did I say that out loud? OH SHIT! Did I say THAT out loud!?"

I clamped both hands over my mouth in mortified terror. Ritz looked at me like I was brain-burnt and Jeremy chuckled kind of awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it, everybody gets a little nervous." But it was clear from his tone that this was unusual. He summoned the elevator, then raised his fingers to his ear in the universal signal that he was talking to someone not present. "Studio, I have Rhoades and Dennheritz in the building... Will do."

A million different ways to apologize were tumbling around in my head and I just knew that if I opened my mouth they'd all come spilling out. So I just stepped aboard the elevator and kept my lips pressed tight together.

"Alright... Uh, we've got your story slotted to lead into the second commercial break, then your interview right after we come back." He made a note on the clipboard with a ballpoint pen built into his finger tip. "That means you're live in about seventy-five minutes, so let's get you both into hair and make-up." The elevator doors glided open on the tenth floor. "If you'll just follow me..."

Gladly, I thought. The way Jeremy's chinos hugged his ass was almost obscene, the back and forth motion hypnotic. When I looked up, I was in a stylist's chair and I had no recollection of how I'd gotten there.

My nails clutched the padding of the arms as the stylist worked on me. I had never experienced such tactile sensation before. Fingers in my hair and brushes on my face had my skin positively scintillating. I was so aroused and I wanted so much more. I wanted to be touched all over. My body was practically screaming with carnal desire but I kept my mouth clamped shut and dug my nails in deeper.

Beside me, Ritz moaned out loud, prompting a flirty back-and-forth exchange with her stylist.

I didn't want to risk another babbling outburst, so I sat and silently stewed in my own juices.

"These are the interview questions for tonight," Jeremy said, handing me a Manila folder when he dropped us off in the Green Room. "Feel free to use your own style and improvise if something interesting pops up. But Mr. Laska wants you to stick to the basic themes. Oh, and uh, you know better than to share these with Ms. Dennheritz ahead of time, right?"

"Mm-hm," I nodded from somewhere deep in his mahogany eyes.

"Alright, you're live in forty minutes. I'll be back in twenty-five to get you both mic'd up."

Ritz and I both sighed in unison as he turned and walked away.

"God, I want him so fucking bad," Ritz muttered.

"Hey, I saw him first. If anybody gets Jeremy, I do. I mean, I know you're going through some shit, but I'm going through some shit too, so I guess we can share him. Hey, have you ever done that before? I can't even imagine being with two people at once. I mean how do you decide whose output goes in which input? God damn, do I need to dock his output. Can you believe I said I wanted to have his baby? Holy shit, what I was thinking? God he's gorgeous isn't he? "

In the privacy of the Green Room my resolve finally collapsed and as my runaway train of thought careened out of my mouth, I gave in to the urge to push down my skirt and tights and press my fingers to my sopping wet slit. With a pent up groan of deep satisfaction I collapsed back onto a sofa.

"What the hell, Rhoades? Knock it off!" Ritz scolded, grabbing my hand. "You're going to set me off too if you keep-- shit."

Her expression changed from horny-annoyed to horny-concerened and she paused and looked at me for a moment.

"You're feverish. I mean really burning up." She pressed her hand to my neck. "Rhoades, your pulse is up north of one-fifty. We need to get you to a hospital."

"I know, I know," I whimpered. "I'm having a really bad reaction to the jezi. It started back in the elevator. I'm sorry, I should have said sooner, but we need this interview, Ritz. We can't bail, but god I wanna fuck someone so bad. I just have to cum. If I can cum, the jezi will clear out and I'll be fine. If it's just the jezi, that's all I need to do. God I hope it's the jezi and not all the stim tabs. I don't know what to do if it's the--"

"Wait, what stim tabs?" Ritz interrupted as my other hand reached down to find the hood between my blooming folds.

"I take stim tabs," I confessed, rubbing at my aching clit in time to my heart rate. I couldn't hold back. My brain had totally lost any capacity to filter itself, and the words just fell out of me in a burst of emotion

"Too many. Too strong. Barks gets them for me. I know I shouldn't but I have to write, produce, film, edit my stories—all by myself... Ritz, I haven't slept in two days," I sobbed, fingering my yearning cunt mercilessly.

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack, Rhoades. Shit, we've got to get the jezi out of your system now." She batted my hand away from my cunt and massaged my clit in slow circles with her open palm, causing me to sigh with wanton ecstasy.

"You like it gentle, huh?" she asked in a husky whisper. "You like a lover to take their time? Treat you like a princess?"

"Yessss..." I groaned.

She opened me and curled a finger between the slick folds of my sex while the ball of her palm kept a steady circular rhythm. Instinctively, I draped one leg over the back of the couch, the other foot on the floor, stretching my tights and spreading myself for her, giving her access to the deepest recesses of my body.

I'd never been with another woman before and I stared up at the ceiling imagining Owl's fingers or Jeremy's instead of Ritz's as she softly probed my pussy.

Pushing up my shirt, I ran my hands across my taut belly as my hips rocked back and forth against her. I could feel my heart rate and breathing slow as I melted into her tender ministrations.

"Tell me where," she murmured.

"Deeper... Yes, yes right there... Ohhhhhh..."

While she had me distracted, she moved her palm away and bent down to kiss my engorged bud, flicking it ever so softly with the tip of her tongue.

"Cum for me, Princess," she urged quietly before sucking my clit between her lips.

I wanted to. I was desperate to. I felt like I should already be shuddering in rhapsodic release, but I couldn't get there. I worked my hips faster. I pushed one hand up under my shirt to fondle my tits, the other up my neck to caress my face and rake my hair.

I felt that sensual stretching in my flesh and moaned as Ritz pushed in a second finger. She fluttered them inside me like a butterfly, tickling my delicate flesh.

A million erotic thoughts and fantasies and images filled my brain but they weren't pouring out of my mouth any more. All I could do was pant and whimper deliriously while Ritz pushed me on and on and on towards an orgasm I couldn't reach. I was dimly aware that time was passing, but I didn't care.

And then there was a quick knock and the Green Room door suddenly opened.

"Knock-knock," Jeremy called stepping in. "Everybody decent?"

Ritz's fingers left my body and I felt so empty as she turned and stood and intercepted Jeremy before he could get more than a step into the room. I clenched my teeth and my eyes to dam back a scream of frustration.

"Hey Jeremy, you're back early. Did you miss us?" Ritz held her slick hands behind her back while I yanked up my skirt and tights. Jeremy smirked at her coy advance. If he had seen me spread-eagle on the couch, he gave no indication.

"We're moving you up ahead of the second commercial break," Jeremy said looking down at his clipboard. "Apparently the Rangers made a last minute trade and Sports wants an extra three minutes for the Football segment. We need to get you both mic'd up and on set now."

"No!" I objected, pushing Ritz out of the way and pleading with Jeremy. "I can't! I'm not ready! Shit! This is my big break and if I go out there now, I'm gonna blow it, but if I don't go now I'm gonna blow it and there's nothing I can do and I know you're just the PA and it's not your call, but holy shit this locks utterly! If you can get me five more minutes, or ten at the most. I feel like I'm so fucking close, but god I just don't--"

Ritz slapped me.

She took my shoulder and spun me around and slapped me across the face leaving the scent of my own arousal in my nostrils and the sting of humiliation on my psyche.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rhoades," she growled. "Focus!"

I balled my fists and took a deep breath forcing the noise and the static in my brain to resolve itself into some kind of coherent structure. When I turned back around to face Jeremy he was wearing an expression somewhere between sympathy and annoyance. I knew that if I looked into his eyes I'd lose it again, so I locked my gaze on the ceiling.

"Jeremy," I told him in the steadiest voice I could manage, "I seem to be having a, um... personal issue, and I can't do the interview. Can one of the anchors fill in for me? That's what Murray wanted originally."

I shoved the Manila folder with the interview questions towards him without looking.

He took the folder. "Yeah, yeah. We'll work something out. Uh, Ms. Dennheritz, if you'll come with me? I hope you feel better Ms. Rhoades."

"You sure about this, Rhoades?" Ritz asked. Her tone conveyed her uncertainty.

"Mm-Hmm," I told her, still looking at the ceiling, still clenching my fists. "Go. I'll be fine. Go."

The Green Room door closed behind them and I fell to my knees alone, sobbing. There was a part of me that was devastated to have given up a live network-TV interview. But the part of me that was in control, the sexually vexed animal in my brain, already had my hand down my tights and my fingers abusively buffing my abandoned clit.

By the time the TV on the wall switched from the ICS logo to the opening news hour animation, my skirt was gone and my tights were around my ankles. My blouse was wide open and my bra was twisted askew. I was still down on my knees, one hand braced on the floor, the other between my thighs digging into my inflamed cunt.

I was frantically masturbating, so focused on satisfying my own desperate arousal that I was barely aware when the anchorman introduced my story.

My heart was racing again. Sweat dripped from my body and I cried gasping sobs as I worked at my poor tortured pussy trying to coax that elusive dopamine release out of my brain.

"That was special correspondent Abby Rhoades reporting." I heard my own name when the anchor behind the news desk segued from my report to the interview. "And now our own Dan Ryder is joined live in the studio by Agatha 'Ritz' Dennerhitz. Over to you Danny."

I looked up in time to see the camera cut to a wide shot showing them sitting on barstools across a high-top table. An ashtray and a pair of water glasses sat between them.

"Thanks, Casey. Welcome to ICS News, Ritz."

"Thanks Dan, happy to be here," Ritz replied with a flirty smile. She held a cigarette lightly between her fingers and appeared to be handling the jezi high better than I was.

My thighs were slick, and my hand ached from the effort of jilling myself with such furry. I tried to force myself to focus on the TV screen, focus on Ritz, but my attention kept flagging with my insatiable need for stimulation. I only managed to catch snatches of the interview through the fervid masturbatory fog of desire.

"We called him 'Savage Joe'," I heard Ritz tell the anchor, resting her hand on his arm. I missed the question. "And he was the most amazing lover. Oh god Dan, you have no idea."

"I think I might be jealous," Dan teased. "Were you two together long?"

"No, no, no, no, no," I muttered to myself. "Don't talk about Joe!" I couldn't remember if I had warned Ritz to focus on Hoshi or not, but before I could hear her answer my depraved stream of consciousness swept me away again.

I imagined Joe Carmichael throwing me onto a bed and ravishing me with savage fury. I imagined Hoshi Sato's nimble fingers playing my body with the same passionate celerity as his guitar. I imagined being caught between both of them and crying with elation.

The word "Militech" cut through the fantasy and I looked up at the screen to see Ritz laughing with Dan. She was warm and friendly, and I knew the interview was going well. I don't know how she managed it. If anything, the jezi had made Ritz less of a chrome-cold killer and more of a human being. Meanwhile, it had turned me into a rampaging fuck-bot without an off switch.

If I had been on set, I just know I would have climbed into Dan's lap to grind myself on his crotch.

That thought slipped me into another fantasy about fucking Dan live on TV while a million viewers watched me cum. I didn't hear the door to the Green Room open. I didn't realize anyone else was in the room until I felt fingers around my throat and I was pulled back up onto my knees.

"Are you still trying to get off, Pretty Princess?" a familiar voice hissed in my ear as a hand reached around to maul my breasts. I could feel cold steel against my ass and thigh.

"Ritz!" I gasped.

She spun me around on my knees. She had stripped herself bare and I was surprised at just how erotic I found the sight of her tightly toned body despite the bruises and scars. I grabbed her head with both hands and for the first time in my life I kissed another woman. She kissed me back with a furious hunger, her tongue darting and thrusting, her lips wrestling my own.

My naked chest mashed into hers, and her hands raked up my ribs to push my open blouse off my shoulders. The feel of her touch, her skin against mine, was invigorating and I was washed away in a fresh wave of desire. I shifted around on my knees, grinding my cunt into the hot flesh of her thigh. On my own leg I felt the heat of flesh, the chill of steel, and the slick of sex as she ground back.

Behind my back she unhooked my bra and pulled it out from between us before our hands scrambled across each other's bodies—shoulders, back, ass, tits, neck—furtively searching for those evanescent erogenous zones that would elicit a moan of delight from the other. I wanted to make Ritz cum almost as desperately as I wanted an orgasm of my own.

She broke our kiss, but held my forehead to hers with a hand behind my neck.

"What do you need, Princess?" she whispered, and I could feel whatever eyes were behind her optishield staring into mine. "Tell me what to do."

"I don't know I don't know I don't know," I sobbed. "I need to cum so bad and I can't. Make me cum, Ritz. Please, god, make me-- Aa!"

Her fingers reached down and she pushed me away from her thigh, her hand cupping my mound. I grabbed at her neck, momentarily alarmed that she was going to abandon me again. But then her fingers curled up into me just right and she palmed my clit, moving her whole hand back and forth in a strong steady rhythm.

"Oh yessss..." I gasped, "Nngh, just like that... That's sooo.... Mmmmm.... Yeah..."

With one hand still clutching her neck, the other drifted down her throat, her chest and curled around the curve of her heavy breast, flicking over her pointed nipple. I caressed her ribs and her hip and traced my fingers over the junction of steel and skin until I worked up the courage to take her wet sex in my hand too.

"Ooohhh yeah, that's it Abby..." she rasped, "Gimme those fingers. Feed my hungry pussy."

Ritz pulled my face to hers and she kissed me again. I explored between the slick folds of her cunt, until I found her nestled nub, until I found the spot deeper in that made her squeal.

We worked at each other like that, on our knees, fingers plunging in and out of each other's body. Her pace quickened and mine followed and then hers again. Feeding off each other's vigorous ecstasy, we were whipped into a frenzy of lascivious moans and desperate gasps.

I had never had sex like this before, never knew that I could feel so manic and frantic and intense. I had always liked nice guys and slow, soft, comfortable love-making, but this was not that. Ritz was an aggressive, zealous lover. Her fingers scrubbed my agonized clit raw and the passion of her exertion had my tits bouncing on my chest until they ached.