Emergence

Salan is still wearing the blouse, even though it has slipped off both shoulders and down her arms. I twist it around her wrists as I push her forward onto a clear spot on the desk.

"I could easily get my arms out of that."

"You won't." I nudge her thighs apart and in just a few seconds I'm back in her. "You like it like this."

For a time she says nothing. We're fucking faster now, with my hands gripping the twisted blouse and my cock pumping harder. The slap of my hips against her ass resonates through the office. Only after a minute or so she moans out a question. "Why do I like it?"

"This is where you work, where you write or take calls, or whatever it is you do." Downstairs she wanted a hard fuck and now she's getting it. "And now you're bent over your desk, taking it deep."

Except where I have her arms pulled back, Salan has sagged forward onto the desk. Her face is turned to one side with the closed eyes and parted lips of someone succumbing to bliss.

"You like the contrast," I continue. "You'll remember it, how you got taken hard here, how your body got me so worked up that I was barely in control."

"Fuuuck," Salan moans. There's a little spot of humidity on the glass-topped desk where she's panting.

My dirty talk is only partly for show. Driving into Salan from behind, pressing her against the desk as I ravage her pussy, I am barely in control. My cock, when I pull it most of the way out, is glistening and hard, as ready for Salan as her kitty is for me. I escaped the session with Lupe without cumming but my restraint is fading fast. Fortunately, Salan is right there with me.

"Cum with me," she gasps. "Fuck, I love it. I want you to fill me!"

I let it happen, jackhammering the final flurry of thrusts with no regard for my ability to hold back. Salan wants me to pop in her and I'm about to. After an hour of on-and-off fucking two different women I must have a tremendous load queued up. "Yeah," I groan, "I'm gonna shoot in you, blast all up in that cunt." I'm right on the edge, balls tingling.

Salan twists her head enough to make eye contact with me. I think she's going to say something but orgasm reaches her first. Her brow tightens, her mouth opens even wider and she cries out a howl of release. We're cumming together, just as she wanted, her hips shaking and her pussy clamping down on me.

"Gawwwwd, fuck," I gasp as my balls eject a rope of hot cum into Salan's depths. Ecstasy washes over me exuberantly, a long-postponed orgasmic wave which is somehow both hot and cold at once. All breath leaves my lungs in a release which matches that of my balls.

We're locked together, she and I. The intensity of my orgasm first drives me to pull back on the tangled blouse, lifting Salan from the desk. Then as it begins to ebb I loosen my grip and she collapses, shuddering and groaning. When I'm finally sated I stumble back, collapsing into Salan's office chair which creaks in disapproval.

It isn't until another minute has passed that Salan begins to regain her composure. She parts her eyelids, looking at me dreamily.

"I read your club profile," I say.

"Whaaat?"

"Your profile. In it you say that those that bring ecstasy will be your king, or something like that."

"Yeah." She sits up, pushing splayed hair back from her face.

"Well, your king would like a scotch. You can go downstairs and get it, with my cum dripping out of your pussy."

***

"Will you sit down?" Ava asks. She's allowing just a touch of impatience to enter her voice. "It's almost time."

Taking a bowl, I flop back down on the couch next to Ava. "I just wanted some popcorn is all."

"We're watching the news, not a movie."

"Yes, but it's a double feature. Don't forget."

"Right," Ava says before shushing me. The news show is starting.

It isn't a segment on a local news station. The show that we're watching, the culmination of Ava's investigation, is airing on one of the national networks. As the show opens, we see that it's a panel interview, with two well-respected senior journalists and their subject, Ava.

"Tell us Ms. Tanner," one of the gentlemen begins, "how did this astounding story begin?"

Ava nods solemnly. She's perfectly groomed and attired for the show, with her red hair spilling across the cream-colored blouse she's wearing. It looks random but I'm sure the hair and makeup crew at the network have carefully arranged it. The blouse is tight enough to show off Ava's charms without creating a distraction.

"It began, Richard, with a face I spotted in the crowd."

The interviewers, and Ava, are brilliant. The tale of the investigation unfolds over the course of the next half hour, with Ava allowing the interviewers to tease out the details of the story while skillfully blending in interview clips and pre-recorded location shots.

"You were able to obtain the drug formulas that KapGen had recently developed. Are you able to tell us how you managed that?"

On screen, Ava's sly smile says she won't reveal my role. "Let's just say I had someone able to penetrate their most guarded location."

I almost snort beer out of my nose.

"I thought you'd appreciate that," Ava chuckles. Unlike on-screen Ava she's dressed quite casually, in a pair of snug jeans and a checked flannel shirt that doesn't even attempt to hide her cleavage.

The show continues. "The drug formulas you obtained from KapGen have been reviewed by independent labs," the interviewer asks, "can you describe their findings so far?"

"The labs have uncovered two categories of concern, Kelvin." Ada brushes her hair back before continuing. "You'll remember that KapGen was already being investigated in part over exaggerated claims they had made for their hormonal treatments."

"That's right Ava, you covered that earlier."

"Yes, well, the labs have confirmed that the most recent batch of treatments, the genetic medications, are likely no more effective than the earlier round."

"The medications that they most recently filed with the FDA?"

"That's right. They're little more than snake oil. Except one."

"Oh?" The interviewer named Kelvin is pressing his hands together thoughtfully.

"Yes," Ada says, "number two in their latest batch."

Kelvin looks down at his notes. "The one which they claim is for 'Male Genital Enlargement'? That one actually works?"

"Well no, not exactly." Ada is smiling, a rarity when she's in 'tough journalist' mode. "It doesn't do anything for genital enlargement, but I discovered an interesting pattern in the animal testing data. It does appear to greatly reduce the incidence of prostate and testicular cancer."

"So KapGen accidentally stumbled upon a miracle drug?"

"They may very well have," Ava concedes. "Much more testing will be required. But here's where the second of their problems comes into play."

The other interviewer, Richard, leans in. "And what would that be?"

"It's a genetic treatment, but it turns out that the subject from whom the source DNA was taken never gave consent and, in fact, was kidnapped and kept drugged while the treatments were developed."

This revelation sets off a storm of outrage on the set and the story turns from being one of a failed biomed company to a ghastly tale of kidnapping and abuse. I'm pleased to see Markus's name mentioned alongside Kapp's and Salan's. Asshole.

Ava watches the rest of the show raptly. Of course she knows the story, and even how the interview was edited for broadcast, but I'm sure it's still compelling for her. The story, which broke first on-line, has already gathered her considerable fame and opportunity.

I clean up the kitchen, watching over my shoulder. Like Ava, I already know what she learned, and the trouble that KapGen and its founders are in. I'm happy for her, and grateful for her role in my escape. My evening at the sex club was incredible, and planting the spy device on Salan's computer was easy once she stumbled off to fetch me a scotch. But it's only the first half of my story.

The second half airs next. After the interview ends, and I congratulate Ava for how well it went, we switch to a different network. A very different network.

"Welcome to Fuck Off!"

The set is a commentator's booth, and we're welcomed by an outlandishly curvy brunette and her partner, a grinning blond man. Both were porn stars as recently as five years ago, but have transitioned nicely into roles as commentators for the competitive porn show.

"What do we have to look forward to on tonight's show?" the man asks. He's amped.

"Max, first let me say that when I heard about tonight's matchup I knew it was going to be special." Her eyes are lit with genuine excitement. "Do you think any of the actresses tonight would let me take their place?"

"Good luck convincing them, Nikki," Max chuckles. "But why don't you tell our viewers why tonight is so special."

"It's a matchup of two legendary performers," she explains. "First, current champion Rocke Stallyn." The camera cuts over to a powerfully built man standing naked by the side of a bed. Two young women are fawning over him, rubbing him down with oil while making a show of lifting and stroking his cock.

"He's won the last two years," Max explains. "Who would be foolish enough to challenge him?"

"That's why I can't wait for this matchup! Tonight, for his first time on screen in two years, I'm thrilled to announce the former champion known simply as Stinger!"

And the camera cuts to me.

Like Rocke, I'm standing bedside in the studio, naked and oiled. Two starlets are there with me, fondling and rubbing me down. I'm not as bulky as I used to be, but I've regained a hard, lean strength which makes the veins on my legs and arms pop. And my cock has returned to its full pre-kidnap size. In the starlets' hands it's already hard, a lance of flesh waiting for action.

Ava is watching along with me. We both know the result of the competition but she hasn't seen the show yet. She's warm and close in a way that she never allowed herself to be in the weeks and months that her investigation required. Some of her cool demeanor is slipping away.

"Standing sixty-nine!" Nikki calls out, and the competition is underway. On-screen me lifts and flips one of my partners, a tall and toned black woman. Soon she's hanging upside down, supported by me, just at penis level. She can't deep throat me, but her mouth stretches deliciously around my shaft. I keep her legs spread and, maintaining an awareness of where the camera is, begin tonguing her slit.

A wave of fan voting pours in, lighting up the display. At the time I was performing I didn't know the score, but I later learned that I easily topped Rocke. My fans, it seems, missed me.

It's disconcerting, watching yourself fuck. One part of me seeks to find fault, like a gymnast watching a replay of a routine. I notice where I could have improved, and think about how I might tweak things for my next performance. But another, impossible to ignore, part of me is getting turned on. My co-stars are hot, of course. Watching their bodies tangling with mine and with each other, listening to their gasps of pleasure, and remembering their taste... that's arousing.

"Oh shit!" Ava suddenly cries out.

"What? Fuck!"

"I forgot," she says, standing. Before I can ask what she forgot, Ava darts off and returns with the flexible measuring tape. "I need to measure your penis one last time. I promised Stephanie."

"What? Right now?" I ask. When Ava just nods I say, "It's been months."

"I promised Stephanie," she repeats.

This isn't a request I am inclined to ignore. Not only do I feel in Stephanie's debt for her role in helping me escape medical captivity, but she's also cute. And a good fuck. More than once I've fantasized that when I was truly free I would go in search of her.

So I pull down my pants.

Ava blinks. I'm already hard from watching Fuck Off, but still she delays a moment before crouching with the tape. She measures length, then circumference, making notes. Then she surprises me.

"I'm not sure I trust these numbers."

"Trust them?" What the fuck is happening?

"Yes," Ava says decisively. "I need a professional's help." She pokes at her phone. "Stephanie?"

It turns out the evening was a setup. Before I can even register what's happening, Stephanie pops in the apartment door. She's wearing a coat which she quickly sheds to reveal an exaggeratedly sexy nurse's outfit beneath, the sort of thing a young woman might wear to a Halloween party.

"Did someone call for a nurse?"

Ava is already unbuttoning her top.

I chuckle, turn off the screen, and settle back on the couch. It's time for our scene to begin.