Ben's Day Ch. 06

He shook his head.

"No...you haven't seen this before. Look it's hard to explain but I promise if you just watch it then I won't even try to talk to you if you don't want me too..."

"...Ok?" she said, clearly intrigued by his strange insistance, "Show it to me."

Ben nodded, looking around for a moment, shrugged, and lifted his phone to bring up the video she had taken of herself with him the night before. She squinted at the frozen image of herself skeptically as he pressed the play button. The Ashling on the screen started talking, but the ambient sounds of the bus station drowned out nearly every word.

"So she looks like me?" Ashling said after only a moment of looking at the screen while squinting, trying to make out what she was saying but failing.

Ben sighed, pausing the video while fishing his headphones out of his pocket, plugging them in and handing them to her. Ashling gave him another skeptical look, putting the earbuds in her ears as Ben restarted the video, looking between the Ashling in the video and the Ashling standing next to him, trying to gauge her reaction to herself, but all he could see in her face was intense attention. He almost stopped the video too late as he saw the Ashling on the screen freeze mid-word, and he paused it, turning the screen away from her as he did so.

"It...the file get's corrupted after that," he said, not even sure if what he was saying was a lie, "but she...you got to say the important part."

Ashling stared at him, eyes wide, slowly pulling the earbuds out.

"How...how did you make this, like?"

"What?"

"Is this, a deepfake or something? How did you learn all that stuff about me to make it? I know I never told anyone about the watch..."

Ben shook his head.

"It's a real video. I know it's hard to believe but..." he took a slow, calming breath, "I didn't make it. You did. Well...it's true. And real."

"So you're telling me I will make this video tonight, like? And you brought it back in time to show me?" she asked, incredulously.

"Uhhh...sort of? But not really. You made it last time around, I think it's pretty unlikely you'd make it again, especially not exactly the same. Today has gone...differently."

She laughed.

"Yeah, you could say that. I sound absolutely smitten with you in that video, like. I—me, now—just thought you were cute enough guy to make Ian jealous..."

"It's hard," Ben started, trying to explain, "the first time—last time around, meeting you was like...fresh. I didn't know what you were going to say, it was like...real. This time around, it was hard to do it all the same way. I guess I was bored? Not, not by you really, but by the fact that I had already had that conversation before? Ashling I...I really do like you...and you liked me. I was...more charming?"

Ashling laughed under her breath, shaking her head.

"Well...I mean...you're cute, like I said, like. Cute enough that I feckin' sucked you off in a bus station like some sorta come-hungry slag...you really think this happened don't you? You think we fell in love already?"

Ben nodded.

"Yep. I mean, another you, I guess? Or at least, this you didn't remember."

"So we spent a whole day together then? What, we go out on a hot date and fuck each other's brains out, like?"

But shrugged, blushing a little bit.

"Yeah...pretty much," he said, trying to conceal a fiendish smile, "in a dressing room first, then later at the hotel..."

"Ok. What did you learn about me then?" she asked pointedly, "what's something you know about me besides what it says in that video?"

Ben looked around at the bustling bus station around them.

"Ok...let me...let me get you a coffee, and we can sit down somewhere and I'll tell you everything that happened. How does that sound? I can tell you here, but a crowded bus station isn't exactly—"

"—Ok," she said, cutting him off, "I've got time to kill, like. You buy me a coffee and tell me the whole story."

The walk to the coffee shop was, as always, frigid. Ben led the way, hands in his pockets as he ran the previous days events through his mind, trying to think of what might be the most convincing part to tell her about. As they entered, he made his usual order, sitting down at the same table he had last time. Ashling took a few moments again to strip off her extra layers of winter gear, at which point Ben glanced at his phone and saw that he had missed nearly a dozen texts, snaps, and calls from Vic. As he was looking, he got a text from Sam.

S Hey so I know this is weird...but did you take a bus to the city this morning? This is Sam, from college, by the way. Girl Sam. I don't know if you still have my number saved from back then.

Ben furrowed his brow, not remembering ever getting this particular text on a previous loop. As Ashling finished settling into her seat, he texted back.

B Hi, yeah, I think I saw you and Juliet in a seat behind me. Sorry I didn't say hi. Vic and I just split up so I'm in a bit of a weird place.

B I do still have your number. I'm sorry we haven't kept in touch.

Curious, but not wanting any more interruptions as he tried to convince Ashling of the most ridiculous thing he'd ever tried to convince anyone of, he put his phone into airplane mode to avoid getting any more messages that might interrupt his conversation with Ashling, and put it down on the table as their drinks arrived.

What followed was a long, staggeringly slow retelling of his day with her, Ashling interrogating him at almost every turn with clarifying questions, quizzing him on her other self's choices and actions. Ben tried to go light on the juicier details of their time together, but Ashling asked him about those too, quizzing him on her sexual likes and dislikes, the positions she had taken, all under her breath. With each detail, she seemed more and more convinced that something strange was going on. He managed to omit the creepy details of her pixellated evaporation at the end of the day, thinking that such a detail could hardly help his case.

Once he had finished his retelling, Ben showed her the pictures of them kissing, taken at the very table they were sitting at, and he saw the color drain from her face as she saw them, remarking numbly that she had the exact outfit in her bag with her, and noting that the angle and framing of the shots were reminiscent of what she learned from being a minor internet model who did all of her own photography. By the end of it, two hours had passed, and she was just staring off into nothing as the reality of the situation hit her.

Ben, meanwhile, was trying to keep his hopes in check: if he could convince her now, maybe he could learn to do it faster next time. He hated feeling like he was lying to her, or taking advantage of her with the knowledge he had, and he wanted her help in bringing her up to speed as fast as possible in future loops. Maybe, the most blind and hopeful part of him thought, he could figure out how to convince her in just a few words, like a console command in a video game, and then they could be like they had been before.

"Well, I don't know what to say," Ashling said after a long thoughtful pause, "I'm...I hate to admit it, but I think you've convinced me, like, strange as this all sounds."

Ben felt his heart leap with joy.

"But," she said, meeting his eyes with hers, her expression suddenly wiping his excitement away, "What exactly do you expect me to do about it? I don't feel it, Ben. I don't know you. You know me, like. More than I'd expect you to in a single day, but fuck...if anything this has just creeped me the fock out. I...I don't love you, or whatever. I don't even really like you, like. I mean, you're nice enough, and cute, and have a really nice feckin' wavin...but I just...I don't want to be with a guy who knows so much about me when I know nothing about him, like. I don't like that you know all that..."

"What if..." he started, but she was already shaking her head, putting a hand on his.

"Look, I can't imagine what it's like going through what you're going through...but as far as I know, I'm going to go on and see tomorrow, just like normal. But I can tell you right now that...I'm never going to feel good about the fact that you'll have these secret, private memories of me that I don't remember at all, like. It'd be like dating someone who could read your mind...but even worse. You know things I might think, you know things I will do or won't do...and that's kinda fucked, Ben. That's basically mind control with extra steps, like, right? I...I don't think any version of me is ever going to like that idea..."

Ben nodded glumly, a heavy weight in his chest. He hadn't ever imagined this would go this poorly. He had had her, they had had each other...and now...

"I guess all I can ask...is if this is all really true...if you keep going 'round and 'round like this...stop trying to win me back? I mean I can tell you really like me, and I'm sorry, but you have to know that tricking me, or whatever, would be pretty fucked up to do, right? I mean, you don't seem like the gas-lighting rapist type or whatever, but..."

Ben held up a hand, feeling his face harden as he tried to blot out the pain of what she was saying.

"I...get it. I'm not. I won't. I promise," he sighed, "I'm sorry I tried."

He reached into his wallet, noticed that he didn't have any cash left, and tossed her his debit card.

"Here. For your trouble. For listening. Pin number is 0420. The money from the checks won't be in there today but it's got all my savings—a few thousand. I don't think I'll need any of it this time around anyway. Knock yourself out," he said, then stood and turned before she could react, stumbling out into the cold, holding back tears.

The cold hurt, but Ben hardly cared. He just walked. It was only once he was walking by the doors of the conference center that he realized where his feet were taking him: to the MORE conference that he was technically supposed to already be at. Without really having anywhere else to go, so he stumbled in late and slumped into a seat, letting the speakers words drift into the background as his mind focused on his own misery.

He was alone. More alone than ever. More than anyone. It wasn't just his relationship with Ashling that was ruined: it was every relationship he might ever try to have, with anyone. He was trapped in some sort of lonely hell, surrounded by people he could never grow close to. He just wanted it to stop, wanted the empty void where Vic had been, where Ashling had been for such a short time, to be filled. Wanted to live the next day, wanted to move on. It was all so fresh, so painful, and he knew that as long as this day kept repeating, it would never really heal.

Feeling like he was about to break out into tears and not wanting to have to deal with the reactions of all the people around him, Ben stood up in the middle of one of the presentations and walked towards the men's bathrooms. The first one he found had a laminated 'Out Of Order' sign stuck to it, and he was about to move on in search of another when he thought he heard a feminine moan from the other side of the door, and paused. Another moan. He put his ear up to the door.

"Yes Steve! Yes! You lick my pussy so gooood!" a woman's voice squealed breathlessly.

Ben felt his own cock twitch as he heard her moan again. Despite his morbid mood, despite feeling empty and alone, his body still had urges—in fact, with everything else how it was, it was almost as if those urges were more powerful, more desperate than ever, stripped bare from the pretenses of emotional connection, or anything else. It was like a dark hunger, driving him to push open the door slowly, quietly. He gave into it.

The bathroom was marked by the sharp lemon scent of a recent cleaning, but still not exactly the kind of place that Ben would have picked for this kind of thing. There was a short hallway with tiled walls just inside the door which turned a hard corner before getting into the bathroom proper. Ben kept his breath shallow, walking slowly and quietly, following the wall closely as the woman's moans—and the quieter sounds of a man gasping and slurping between her legs—echoed off the tiles.

"Fuu...fu..yesyesyes Steve yes!" he heard the woman's voice stuttering again as he got close to the corner.

Ben's cock strained against his jeans with another throb. He closed his eyes as he heard the woman's little whimpers of pleasure, chastising himself at his own perversion only to realize that he didn't care; it didn't matter. He...he wanted to feel something, anything but the loneliness he was feeling, and something about listening when they didn't know he was there, about finding them in this public place, was making the situation all the more arousing. He undid his belt—slowly to avoid making any clinking sounds with the buckle—and then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, plunging his own hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrapping it around his stiffening cock while he leaned his back against the wall, just around the corner from where he could hear the couple going at it.

"Almo...Almost there..."

Ben stroked himself a few times, squeezing the top of his own cock with each stroke, before pulling it free of his boxer briefs and stroking it again, letting the elastic of the waistband snap against his balls. He was panting in arousal now. He leaned his head around the corner, flushed with anxious lust, and saw them.

The bathroom had a long line of hand washing sinks, all sunk into a single marble counter in front of a wide, wall-spanning mirror, and the woman was perched up on that counter, topless, eyes closed, her back against the mirror, her legs spread wide for the man kneeling on the floor in front of her, the back of his head covered by her orange skirt. She had dark skin and straight black hair—Ben thought she looked like she was probably of South Asian descent, Indian or Thai or something—with perky, medium-sized breasts that were heaving with her frantic needy breaths. She reached up to tweak her own nipple as her body started to convulse, her other hand gripping the edge of the nearest sink to steady herself.

Ben knew he should step back around the corner, just listen and finish himself off as fast as he could, but he didn't do that. At this point, he didn't care if he got caught; hell, he didn't care if he got killed, he would just start everything over again anyway. He turned the corner more, watching as the woman squealed and twitched with the first wave of her orgasm, stroking his cock purposefully as he drank in the sight of her body glistening with sweat as she climaxed.

She looked like she was probably in her early thirties, with narrow shoulders and wide hips, giving her body a pleasant pear shape. Her mouth was open, her full lips stretched with another orgasmic moan as she threw her head back against the wall, almost cracking the mirror in the process. She winced, but then convulsed from another wave of orgasm, and started pushing the man out from between her legs as she shuddered in pleasure, opening her eyes.

"Steve...Steve..." She breathed, pushing him out from between her legs, "Get...up! Show me your fucking cock Steve!"

The man—'Steve,' Ben had gathered—stumbled back before standing. He was a short white guy—about five feet tall—probably in his late thirties, with dark hair greying around the temples. He was wearing a white button down shirt and a red tie, his suit jacket tossed over the doors of one of the stalls behind him, and Ben realized in that moment that he had been the first speaker at the conference: a green-energy entrepreneur named Steven Carrington-Whyte who had recently become a sort of minor celebrity in the business world, and who was married to some young hispanic actress named Marina or Maria or something—definitely not the woman in front of him now.

'Steve' was unbuckling his belt now, and the woman had slid off the marble surface, slipping her skirt around her ankles and stepping out of it and towards him while staring down at the bulge he was about to reveal. Her plump brown thighs were glistening with a sheen of fluids, no doubt a mix of Steve's saliva, her own sweat, and the wetness of her arousal. Ben, still watching from around the corner, settled into a slow, slippery pump up and down his own length, drawing his own pleasure out as he watched them.

"That sign was genius, Padma. I can't believe you came with it already laminated..." Steve chuckled to himself, slipping his pants and briefs down, letting his thick, half-hard cock bounce into the open, stabbing out between the bottom sides of his white button-down shirt.

"I wasn't going to leave things to chance, I brought my yoga mat too," she said, stepping forward and caressing his cock with a gentle tickle that sent it twitching into her palm, "My family will make sure I don't have a moment to myself once the conference is over, and I couldn't spend a day in the same city with you without feeling this inside me."

"I appreciate the effort," he said, leaning his head up to kiss her passionately; one hand behind her head, the other squeezing her plump ass casually, before pulling out of the kiss, "we should coordinate out schedules more often."

She grinned down at him and nodded.

"How's the wife?" she asked, smirking as she tugged more earnestly at his erection, "still...'understanding' about our little meetings?"

Steve grinned, nuzzling into her neck and kissing her again before answering.

"As long as I bring home a good story. She can hardly complain considering how I practically set her up with that British kid from the new Marvel movie. He just turned twenty-one, she's basically a cradle robber."

Padma stepped back from him, staring hungrily down at his hardening cock in her right hand, her left hand drifting down to cup his balls.

"Martina should join us again soon—I miss her mouth," she said with a smirk, "She hasn't licked me since your wedding night...she's even better than you."

Steve nodded, "almost as good as you are, Padma."

"Well...yes, but I can hardly do that for myself. Plus, she has those tits..."

Steve nodded, groaning a pleased groan, his cock straight and thick and hard in her hand now.

"How's the new boyfriend?" he muttered with a playful grin.

"He's an ex. I had high hopes for him, but he thought that all he needed was a nine inch cock and nice abs, that I should do all the work after that. It wasn't even thick enough to fill me up..."

Padma was caressing Steve's cock lovingly now, as if to emphasize her words.

"How do you want it?" he growled impatiently as Padma continued to toy with him.

"I chose last time, remember? In Dallas?" she purred, "It's your turn, Steve."

Steve nodded, smiling ferociously.

"Get the mat," he growled.

Padma kissed Steve again, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, pumping her hand on his cock a few more teasing times before pulling away, licking his pre come from her palm and turning to step away from both Ben and Steve, swaying her thick ass seductively as she pulled an orange yoga mat from a small bag in the corner and then rolled it out on the floor, setting a bottle of lube next to it. Steve pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, peeling himself down to just a white sleeveless undershirt.

"Lay back..." He growled, stepping closer to her as he tugged at his own cock impatiently, "show me that ass."

Padma giggled happily at his aggressive tone, and did what he said, laying back on the mat she had rolled out, spreading her legs for him, reaching one hand down to slip a finger between her folds and tweaking her nipple with the other as she stared up at him with bated breath. Steve stepped over to her, kneeling on the end of the mat, and grabbed both of her calves, grunting while pulling her folds around his cock, holding her legs wide as he did so. Her body trembled, and she let out a whimpering sigh.