Bombs Away!

Sally stood in her doorway, her big blue eyes framed in golden lashes, her cheeks a delicate pink, her lips all pouty and moist. "I'm going to have to cancel our date." She lifted her chin and her long, blond, perky, pony tail bounced ever so slightly. The faded gray t-shirt she wore did nothing to disguise the fullness of her breasts, or lack of a bra. Best of all, the ratty sweat pants were just tight enough to show that she wasn't wearing panties either.

Tim stood on the doorstep, mesmerized by the view. "Hm? What?" He lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, and the drool from his bottom lip. "You said something honey?"

Sally scowled, and it was beautiful. Her lovely blue eyes flashed with heated passion. "I can't have sex with you today. I have a headache."

Tim abruptly snapped out of his sensual stupor to blink at Sally in shock. "What...?" A headache? No way...! He'd been looking forward to spending quality time with Sally all week! Jacking off both morning and night hadn't even dented his anticipation. "You can't be serious...?" He clamped down on his frustration and attempted to reason with her. "But I've made plans for us?"

Yep plans; a blowjob in the front seat of his car, muff-diving cunnilingus under the table specially reserved at the Italian restaurant, seated doggy style in the reserved box at the concert hall, then sixty-nine on the couch at home, the bed for hard-core fucking, and finally more cunnilingus on the kitchen table first thing Sunday morning. He had serious plans for the weekend.

Sally offered a sweet and trembling smile. "I'm sorry sweety, but..." Her voice dropped to a suggestive whisper. "I'm afraid it's that time of the month for me."

Tim looked down and pointedly stared at her distinct lack of panty-lines. "Is that so?" He wasn't sure if it would be considered rude to point out that he had two sisters so he knew what 'that time of the month' actually entailed. Case in point, his sisters ALWAYS wore panties. They always had some form of chocolate within hand's reach too, but that was neither here nor there.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he didn't want to take the chance that he might totally piss her off and thereby never get into her panties again, not that she tended to wear them, he gave her his best puppy-dog eyes and tried wheedling instead. "Are you sure you couldn't...just for tonight?" He held up the small plastic bag of 'Fuzzy's Foamy Fries - Ferret Treats'. "I even brought these for Frederick?" The little bastard hated him, but that was okay. Tim hated Frederick the ferret right back.

Sally's adorable bottom lip protruded ever so cutely and she shook her head. "I'm really, really, sorry sweety, but I just...can't."

Tim stared, shocked. The big brown puppy eyes weren't working. What the hell...? Maybe he should have used his melting-chocolate expression instead.

At that moment, a ratty little blue Toyota pulled up in front of Sally's lawn.

Tim turned around and eyed the Pizza Shack sign on the car's roof. He then eyed the tall, muscular youth that came out of it. Long black waves of hair spilled out from under his Pizza Shack ball cap to sweep past broad and heavily built shoulders. The kid's sleeveless white t-shirt was so snug it showed every bulge in his ripped belly. The muscles in his thighs looked like they were about to split his jeans. What was worse, the kid's carved and chiseled face looked like it came from a fashion magazine; complete with electric blue eyes. His smile was blinding.

Tim stiffened and self-consciously swept a hand across his short-cropped, though neatly styled, mud-brown hair, then tugged at his simple white polo shirt tucked into his khaki casual slacks. He worked hard to keep trim and toned, but this kid looked like a pro athlete. "Where the hell did they find him, Muscle Beach?"

Behind Tim, Sally sighed. "Jack is into competition skateboarding. Delivering pizza is just his part-time job."

Jack...? Tim blinked and turned around to face Sally. His brows lowered with deep suspicion. "You know him by name?"

Sally nodded, her gaze focused beyond Tim, and her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. She licked her slightly parted lips and spoke in a deep husky tone that Tim had only ever heard her use in the midst of mind-blowing sex. "He's the best...!"

Tim's stomach dropped to his knees and his mouth fell open. "The best...?"

Sally stiffened and her startled gaze focused on Tim. She pasted on a huge smile. "At delivering pizza, of course!"

Unable to stop himself, Tim looked down at Sally's chest. Her nipples were so hard they tented her t-shirt. His gaze dropped to her crotch. Was that a wet spot growing there? His jaw tightened. "Delivering pizza... Sure."

Jack stalked up to Sally's doorstep with a narrow-eyed smile that showed entirely too many even white teeth. "Hey Sally, I brought your double pepperoni."

Tim eyed Jack's broad smile and curled his lip. "Yeah, with extra cheese."

Jack blinked at Tim. "How'd you know?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Extra cheese, hold the brains. He looked over at Sally. "About tonight...?"

Sally leaned forward to plant a quick peck on Tim's cheek. "Sorry about that. Maybe next weekend?" She grabbed onto Jack's arm and hauled him into her house. "Bye!" She closed the door in Tim's face, firmly. Abruptly the door opened again. Sally smiled at Tim and snatched the ferret treats from his hand. "And thank you!" The door closed once again. There was no mistaking the distinct click of the lock engaging.

Tim stared at the closed and locked door. Oh, no she did not...! But oh yes she had. She'd canceled on their date, dragged the pizza boy into her house, slammed the door in his face, and took the damned ferret treats! He slumped where he stood. There went his entire weekend. All those plans, all those expensive reservations, all that sex...!

A smoky, sensual, and feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. "Well, that was embarrassing."

Tim turned to his right.

Sally's next-door neighbor, dressed entirely in black latex and chrome buckles, leaned on the picket fence with her arms crossed. Her pin-straight blue-black hair fell down her shoulders and over her artificially pointed breasts. The straight cut of her bangs entirely hid the arch of her brows, but the amusement in her midnight blue eyes, and the sardonic smile on her scarlet lips were clearly visible.

Tim turned from Sally's door and waved half-heartedly. "Oh, hi Bethesda." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and slouched down the walk toward his silver-blue BMW parked in the drive.

Bethesda sauntered along the fence, pacing him. "So, the pizza boy, huh?"

Tim shot a scowl her way. "Thank you for rubbing it in, Bethesda."

The woman smiled brightly, though with a surprising lack of fangs. "Well I am a professional sadist. It's what we do."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know." She so didn't need to remind him that she was a dominatrix every time he stopped by. He pulled out his keys to unlock his BMW. "I hope I'm not keeping you from someone waiting in your dungeon?"

"Not at the moment. In fact..." Bethesda leaned over the fence and twirled a long lock of her ink black hair around one elegant, scarlet tipped finger. "I'm not doing anything until tomorrow afternoon, so if you're interested in a little playtime, just to take off the edge...?" She winked and smiled.

Tim gripped the door-handle and shuddered. "Thanks, but no thanks, Bethesda." He looked over the hood of the car and smiled. "I'm just not man enough to take a strap-on up the ass."

Bethesda tilted her head and smiled. "Aww... You know you'd love it."

Tim opened his car door, and lied. "You're right. I probably would, but...!" He held up one finger, smile firmly in place. "Not today!" He leaned over the hood of his car and bared his teeth. "Now if you were willing to take it up the ass...?"

Bethesda lifted her chin and snorted. "I'm strictly a top."

Tim tilted his head, his smile turning deliberately sly. "I'd be more than happy to let you sit on top." And he would too; Bethesda was hot. Unfortunately, she was also just a little too scary, even for him.

Bethesda barked out a laugh. "Nice try." She waved her hand at him. "See you next weekend Tim!"

Tim frowned at her. "You think she'll cancel on me again?"

Bethesda shrugged and turned to look over at Sally's closed door. "Depends..."

"Depends...?" Tim's frown deepened. "On what?"

Bethesda gave Tim a sly smile. "On how fast she wears that one out." He nodded toward the beat-up Toyota.

Tim stiffened. "What?"

Bethesda grinned. "Just so you know, you've lasted the longest so far."

Tim shook his head. "We've only been dating for three months.

Bethesda turned away. "Oh, I know." She waved and strode for her back door. "See you!"

Tim got into his car, backed out of Sally's driveway, and drove from the sunlit suburbs onto the highway while his engineer's mind searched for a solution to his dilemma. So, Sally has a cheating disorder. Well, clearly, it's because she's addicted to sex. He couldn't see how that could be a bad thing, he was pretty addicted to sex himself. He just wasn't one for multiple partners. Bethesda says I've lasted the longest so far, so Sally obviously likes sex with me. His hands gripped the steering wheel. So, how do I stop her from wanting sex with anyone else?

Tim drove into the underground parking garage of his condo still unable to come up with anything solid. On the elevator up to the top floor, he pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. Bertie, his drinking buddy, worked in Research and Development at Acme Aerospace; maybe he'd know something useful?

* * *

A week later on Friday after work, Tim came home to his condo to find a grizzled Express Delivery guy in a snazzy blue uniform at his door.

Tim frowned. This guy didn't look anything like the guy that normally delivered his porn. "Can I help you?"

The delivery guy tilted his head toward the door. "You him?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." The delivery guy handed Tim a brown box the size of a kid's lunch box.

Tim hefted the box in his hand. It was too heavy for porn DVDs. He pulled out the invoice and frowned at it. "This is from Acme Engineering: the Space-age Today?" He looked further down the invoice. "Ero-Blast...?" Where had he heard that name before? Oh yeah...! It was the thing Bertie had talked about last weekend; the cure for Sally's cheating disorder. The sex bomb! Bertie swore it could be set to keep Sally's from reaching orgasm with anyone but him! Tim snatched the plastic stylus from the delivery guy's hand. "Where do I sign?"

The delivery guy pointed at the bottom of his brown electronic notepad. "Here."

Tim signed, waved the guy off with a grin, and unlocked his door at light speed. He stepped out of his loafers, and strode into his brown leather and chrome living room to set the box on the glass coffee table. Grinning madly, he pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Bertie.

The phone burbled a few times then clicked. "Acme Research and Development, Bertie here."

Tim stared hard at the brown box. "Bertie? It's Tim. It's here. The Ero-Blast is sitting right in front of me right now."

Bertie chuckled. "Oh, good. Did you get the manual?"

Tim frowned. "I haven't opened the box yet, let me look." He sat down on his couch and pulled on the packing tape that sealed the box.

"Wait! Tim, the manual should have come in its own box. You got two boxes, right?"

Tim frowned. "No, just the one." From within an ungodly amount of pink and green Styrofoam packing kernels, Tim pulled out a two-inch thick oval of black plastic with a small gray digital display set into the very center.

"Tim? Tim, this is really important, okay?"

Tim turned the oval device over and noticed a bunch of odd little twist dials with a myriad of settings. "What is it Bertie?"

"Tim, I'm being serious now, don't use the bomb without reading the manual first, 'kay?"

Tim set the bomb down on his table. "What? All I want it to do is get Sally to focus on me, and only me. Are you saying it can't do that?"

"It can, Tim. It can! It's just that... Well, it does a bunch of other things too."

Tim pulled his hands away from the strange little instrument. "What you mean? Like side effects, and stuff?"

"Um, more like, we're not really sure of all it can do, so you got to set it for specifically what you want or...other things might happen."

"Other things?"

"Look, we got some of the parts from... Now you didn't hear this from me, 'kay?"

Tim nodded, not that Bertie could see it. "Yeah, yeah, I didn't hear it from you." He lifted his hand. "I so swear, and all that crap."

"Okay, well, some of the smaller more delicate parts came from a couple of the backdoor boys at NASA."

Tim blinked. "Back door boys...?" That could not be what it sounded like.

"Yeah, the guys that...collect things that kind of, fall from the atmosphere, things the government doesn't admit exists. You know, Area Fifty-one and stuff?"

Tim nodded. "Oh..." Okay, so it wasn't what it sounded like. Wait a minute... NASA...? Area 51...! He sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you saying that this was made with alien parts?" He turned to stare at the small black oval in abject horror. Oh god, and I touched it!

"No, no, all American manufactured materials, just alien technology."

Tim rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Oh gee, I feel so much better now." He shook his head. "Alien technology, Bertie?"

Bertie snorted. "What? Did you think we came up with the microwave or the microchip all on our own? Anyway..." He let out a long breath. "That's why you can't use it without the manual 'kay?"

Tim scruffed a hand through his short-cropped hair. "You told me last week that it was easy to use..."

"It is, Tim! It is! It's just that its, well...delicate. You have to set it just right, you see?"

Tim sighed and looked up at his ceiling fan. "Okay, fine, I'll wait for the manual to arrive."

"Good, good..."

Tim flopped back on his couch. "I was just hoping to use it this weekend."

"Please, Tim, please swear to me that you'll wait for the manual?"

Tim nodded wearily. "Yeah, yeah, I'll wait, I'll wait."

Bertie blew out a breath. "Good. Tell you what, call me when it arrives so I can help you read it."

"Help me read it?" Tim sat up straight on his couch. "Is it written in code, or something?"

"No, no! It's just...complicated, 'kay?"

Tim sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I'll give you a call."

"Good!" Bertie sighed over the phone. "Oh, hey my supervisor is headed this way. Gotta go! See you, bye!" Click.

Tim listened to the beeping phone for a few seconds, then closed it and set on his table by the...object. He needed to wait for the manual. He frowned. A manual? He hadn't needed a manual to put together his satellite TV with surround sound or rig his stereo system throughout the entire condo. He'd even set up the networking system to his three computers without help. How complicated could this one object be?

He picked it up and flipped it over for another look. There were four rows of little dials, slides, and switches, each marked with abbreviations and numbers that didn't make any sense what so ever. He winced. Well, okay, maybe this time he'd actually have to use a manual. He set it back down on the coffee table and huffed out a breath. "Crap."

His door bell rang.

Tim stared at his front door in surprise. Could that be the delivery guy back with the manual? He rushed from his couch to the front door and practically threw it open.

A familiar delivery man in moss green blinked at him with wide, startled eyes. "Uh..." The delivery guy held up a brown box a little bigger than a child's lunchbox. "Delivery?"

Tim blinked. It wasn't the grizzled guy in blue. It was his other delivery guy, the one that brought him his mail-order porn. He looked down at the box. 'Sunset Sensations Studios' was printed on the cover. Yep, porn. It was almost disappointing. Almost...

The delivery guy tilted his head, his brows lifting. "You're not expecting this, sir?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Tim slapped on a smile. "Oh, uh...yeah! I am, thanks!" He collected the box, the plastic stylus from the guy's hand, and signed on the brown electronic notepad. He smiled and nodded. "Thanks again."

The delivery guy gave him a rather uncertain smile and an answering nod. "Have a nice day, sir." He turned and headed down the carpeted hall toward the elevator.

Tim stepped back into his condo, closed the door, and pried open the box to discover 'Busty Bathing Beauties in Paradise' nestled in a sheet of clear bubble plastic. "Oh, I've been waiting for this one!" He tugged the tie from his shirt collar and headed down the hall to his bedroom to change into something more...comfortable.

He hadn't gotten the manual, but porn made an excellent consolation prize.

With quick efficiency, Tim stripped out of his business suit, donned his most comfortable sweat-pants, then opened his night-table drawer to grab the 'Slick & Slide.' After a quick trip to a kitchen for a bottle of imported beer, he strode back into the living room, popped the video disk into his DVD player, and settled back on his brown leather couch for a relaxing evening at home.

The wall-mounted wide-screen TV filled with the images of five completely nude, buxom, blond nymphets splashing among the waves with a huge yacht on the horizon. Oddly, all five girls resembled Sally in some way. One had Sally's glorious boobs, the next Sally's spectacular butt, the following Sally's big blue eyes, the fourth Sally's luscious lips, and the last, Sally's glorious hair.

Tim shoved his waistband down to release his quickly hardening cock, then greased up his palm. His eyes glued to the five frolicking beauties, he began to stroke himself.

The film progressed from a five way girl-pile among the waves, to one-on-one, hard-core humping on little Jetta-scooters, to blow-jobs on the deck of the yacht, to some double-penetration fun in the captain's cabin, then finally an orgy in the yacht's outdoor hot-tub.

After exhausting nearly an entire box of tissues, and a good quarter of his bottle of lube, Tim felt exhausted, but unsatisfied. Although all five girls resembled Sally in some way, none of them could compare to the real Sally.

He had to get her back from that...pizza-boy!

Tim eyed the Ero-Blast sitting on his coffee table. Manual, or no manual, he would get Sally back, and then keep her for his very own sex-kitten -- even if he had to marry her.