Family Issues Ch. 04

Dennis didn't seem to mind. It was apparently not his first date nor his second. He chatted on, full of confidence, making her feel like an oafish lump.

"So, you come here often for business meetings?"

"Not so often. I'm working with the analysts' teams, and project supervising departments. Business meals and deals are not my forte."

"You're very modest for the youngest VP ever in Richardson and Williams," he said.

"Thank you," she blushed. "But I never said where I work or what I do for a living?"

"Come on, Helen, it's the Tinder, Facebook, Google age. People go online before they dip in the water."

"Of course." She felt foolish because she now understood his go-getter remark. He wasn't reading between the lines; he read the newspaper.

"Everyone does that. Didn't you?"

"Not really," she said.

"Well, if anything, it made me want to meet you even more. Quite an impressive CV."

"More luck than anything."

"A Bronze Starred marine. Injured heavily in battle yet reached in seven years higher than most people will ever reach in a lifetime?"

Helen didn't know how she felt about that. Dennis just went from a casual google search to full cavity penetration. He certainly did his homework, and it made her fidget in her seat. She took the sip of the tall glass and decided that she liked Espresso Martinis.

"Luck had nothing to do with what you've accomplished."

"Thank you," she said. "You are very kind."

"But I guess it gets lonely up there at the top."

"I'm not sure about the top," she smiled and hoped it didn't come out as too tense. "I'm just a VP for a medium-sized company, but I agree with the rest of what you said. I do feel, sometimes..."

"Alone," he didn't ask, he stated a fact. "When was the last time that you had a meaningful relationship? A boyfriend?"

Every article she read this week about first dates warned that desperation reeks. She took a sip of the martini, stalling. Her leg started doing a little dance on its own, and her lower lip trembled. It was an innocent question, and one to be expected on a date. Nonetheless, she didn't know what to say. She had a hard time admitting to herself that she was twenty-nine and that tonight was her very first date.

"I'm not here to judge, Helen."

"I'm..."

"You don't need to answer if you feel it's too personal. I was just curious, I didn't mean to be rude."

At work, she kept to herself. People called her 'Iceberg Helen' behind her back, and it was convenient because everything was maintained at a professional level. Like Kevin, she invented an imaginary boyfriend, and she never got close enough to people and so never had to show him to anyone. No one knew the truth. Well, that wasn't true anymore. There was someone who knew almost everything about her. A young boy who lived in her house. She wondered where he was right now.

------

Kevin stopped counting rooms and halls; they all blurred into a smear of depressing gray stone walls. He'd need Nadine's help in case he wanted to backtrack to where he left Diana. At one point they exited the mansion, entered a courtyard and went inside another part of the house.

"This place needs road signs," he said. "The town that I grew up in is smaller."

"It's one of the oldest houses in the city; built in the nineteenth century. You can't buy a place like that. It ran in the Astor family for more than more than a hundred years," Nadine said.

"You're an Astor?"

"Do I look like an Astor, Kevin?"

"Yeah, that felt dumb as soon as I said it. Engage brain before starting mouth."

"The last member of the Astor family who owned it also owed a colossal gambling debt to the wrong kind of people."

"And you're the wrong kind of people, Nadine?"

"Or the right kind," she gave him a wink. "Depends on your perspective."

They exited the house again and went through a tall iron gate, down two flight of stone stairs to an open courtyard. Outside it lay a spacious parking lot that was stacked with cars. Kevin saw several Cadillacs, more than one Mercedes and counted at least two Rolls-Royces. A line of people in suits waited to be admitted into an old building. Most of them nodded when they saw Nadine, who nodded back before skipping the line to walk inside. A corridor opened into what appeared to be a sizeable underground arena with a boxing ring at its center. There were few seats, and most of the attending crowd were on their feet. That didn't seem to bother anyone. Nadine took him by the hand past the ring and to a booth manned by two girls and a slim futanari. Behind them on the wall hung several screens and boards with grids containing names and numbers. Kevin figured this was probably a bookie station, but he wasn't sure as he had never seen one before.

"Everything cool, Brigitte?" Nadine asked.

"Pretty much," the slim futa girl in a blue suit lifted her head from a laptop. She had black hair, cropped military style, and she openly carried a pistol in a holster. It looked like she wouldn't have any problem using it. The slim futanari stared at Kevin with lifeless gray eyes. He didn't like that stare. Her visage was passionless, and he had a sharp hunch that this futanari could turn very violent, very quick.

"We're pretty much set to go," the girl said.

"Give me the numbers," Nadine said.

"They're weak. The word on the streets is that our girl is going to throw the fight in round five. That sort of thing can be bad for business. It kept people away."

"Any idea who started these rumors?" Nadine said.

"No. Want me to check?"

"Doesn't really matter," Nadine turned to Kevin. "How about living a little on the edge tonight, sweetie?"

"I don't like edges."

"Wrong answer," she winked at him. "Any interesting numbers, Brigitte?"

"Perkins Left Hook vs. City Cobra. Twenty-two to one on the third round," Brigitte scanned Kevin again. He thought that he saw less contempt in that look this time.

"Great. Put Kevin here, for five hundred."

"I don't have five hundred dollars," he said. "And if I had, I wouldn't gamble it on twenty-two to one odds."

"I'll lend you the money."

"And if I can't pay you back then you'll take my mansion?"

"Do you own a mansion?"

"I own a bicycle. It's worth maybe thirty dollars, probably less."

"Then I'll give you the money as a gift."

"I don't want to take your money, Nadine." He said and regretted it immediately because both Nadine and Brigitte gave him a chilling stare. "I mean," he stuttered, "my dad would kill me if I take that kind of money from anyone." He rummaged through his pockets. "I've got twenty dollars."

Nadine laughed and the tension around them dissipated. "Big spender."

"You think that's a small amount? That's four hundred copies in the library's copy machines. I can copy Kaleb's Object-Oriented Programming notebook. Every page of it. And that joker writes down everything. I mean, if the lecturer says he got delayed because of traffic, he writes that shit down too."

"Four hundred copies? Jesus, Kevin, you are beyond cute."

-----

"Four hundred and forty dollars," Kevin counted the bills then inserted them into his wallet. "The fastest money I've ever made."

"Makes you feel stupid that you didn't take the five hundred," Nadine said.

Kevin shrugged. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't want to feel indebted to her even if it meant being ten grand richer. "Yeah, it was super lucky that City Cobra took a hit on the third round which by a weird chance happened to be the round your friend told me to bet on."

"Lady Fortuna shines on you, sweetie."

"Brightly, considering City Cobra looked ten times better than the other guy. I was certain she was gonna win."

"Shit happens."

"Are all the fights here fixed?"

Nadine lit a cigarette and offered him one.

"I don't smoke," he said.

"Maybe you should give it a shot instead of ticking me off."

"Sorry."

They sat in an elevated area above the ring on a comfortable couch. Below them, the audience was on their feet, cheering or cursing, as the primary and last event of the night was rolling. It was a mixed audience. Some looked like regular businessmen. Others seemed the kind of businessmen that would 'Give you an offer you cannot refuse." Some of that crowd looked like street trash, wearing fancy clothes but still street trash. Kevin spotted Marianne, Helen's colleague he met in their apartment. She was at the ropes, screaming at the top of her lungs.

In the ring, Madame Hulk roared. She was a giant futanari, probably seven feet tall, maybe more. She had the shoulders span of a jumbo jet plane, her skin was obsidian black, and it rippled with muscles. She reminded Kevin of a black panther; beautiful and scary. She circled her adversary, Big Daddy, a neckless mountain of a man that looked like he was made entirely of a single colossal muscle.

"Putana, if I had a dog as ugly as you I would shoot it," Big Daddy spat and turned his back to his adversary, showing utter contempt. The giant futa didn't hesitate and was on him, but it was just a ruse. He anticipated her attack and sent a nasty kick to her crotch.

"Is that referee blind or what?" Kevin said. "That was totally below the belt."

"He's not a referee, sweetie," Nadine said. "He's there to keep the floor clean of blood and other fluids. We don't have a referee, and other than bringing a gun, anything goes. Don't you worry about Cecilia, though, she's gonna own his ass."

"Cecilia?"

"Madam Hulk."

"So what Brigitte said about her selling the fight was just a rumor?"

"Who do you think started that rumor?" Nadine smirked at him.

"You? I thought it was bad for business."

"Sometimes."

"Well, I guess you don't know everything," Kevin said. "Because your girl looks like she's about to die."

In the ring, the giant futa was on the floor, head between her hands. Above her, Big Daddy was raining punches. He took a step back, and Kevin thought he was showing good sportsmanship, allowing her to stand, but then Big Daddy kicked her stomach, hard.

"He's gonna kill her," Kevin shouted.

"She's tougher than you think."

Kevin stared at the ring's clock, there was still a full minute to the round's end. "Jesus, that's brutal."

Madam Hulk crawled and tried to get up, but got a massive kick to her chest. Kevin was sure that a kick like that would snap him in two. The futa girl collapsed back to the ground and stayed there, protecting her head.

"Bitch, I'm gonna teach you to be a bottom," Big Daddy pulled down his pants and the groin protector and took out his cock. "I'm gonna turn you out."

"Can he do that?" Kevin said.

"Make Cecilia a bottom?" Nadine laughed. "He can sooner make a lion go vegetarian."

"I meant, can he take out his penis and do it?"

"Just a bit of showmanship."

Big Daddy bent over the defeated girl, his tool exposed.

A chant rose up from the bloodthirsty crowd.

"Do it!"

"Do it!"

"Do it!"

"Are you sure it's just for show?" Kevin didn't want to see a rape, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the perverted scene. The giant girl suddenly turned. Faster than a blink she whirled and sent a massive punch at the exposed crotch.

There were a few seconds of utter silence, and then the mountain of a man collapsed like a demolished high rise.

"You said something about me not knowing everything?" Nadine smirked.

"Never again."

"Okay, there will be some furious people concerning this," she said. "I need to go and talk to a few people to clear the atmosphere. Wait for me right here, sweetie. I'll pick you up soon."

--------

The underground arena was almost empty. An old guy was cleaning a dubious stain on the ring's floor, and a girl was turning off the screens at the bookie's booth. Someone started turning off the lights at the far end, and Kevin asked himself if he should go out or wait for Nadine. He checked his phone. There were no calls from Diana. He tried to reach her, but her mobile was off.

"You there. Kevin, right? What are you still doing here?"

He turned around. It was the slim futa from the bookie's booth, Brigitte. "Have you seen Nadine?" He said.

"She's probably at the after party. Come. I'll take you there."

"She told me to wait here."

Brigitte gave him a look that made his balls shrink. Her gray eyes were unblinking, like a hawk that had zeroed in on a dove.

"I'll go with you," he said.

She took his hand in hers. Her touch was light and cold, but he could feel the iron in her grip.

Kevin had to run to keep up with her. She was silent, and he didn't dare to disturb that silence. From time to time he stole a peek at her. Brigitte was pretty, by any standard. But it was a sharp kind of beauty. Sharp nose, sharp chin, willowy form. She was beautiful like a masterfully shaped Katana can be beautiful.

"You're a pretty little thing," she suddenly said.

It took Kevin a few seconds to understand that she was talking to him because she wasn't looking at him when she initiated the conversation. "Sorry?"

"You're a local boy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you stupid?" She stopped and stared at him with her lifeless eyes.

Kevin said nothing. He wasn't sure if it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"You are a local boy. It's a refreshing change. Not that it matters that much, but sometimes I like to talk with the person I take to my bed. All those little Chinese and Ukrainian boys, it's like fucking a dumb animal."

Kevin decided that the second she let go of his hand, he'd run like hell. It didn't matter that he had no clue where he was

Brigitte took him through a corridor, going from the arena and into a small training room.

The room had wall to wall blue mattresses, several boxing bags, and gymnastic rings. Two boxers sparred in a corner, one was hitting a bag, and everyone else grunted 'hey' as they entered. Sitting on a stool in the middle of the room was Madam Hulk. The giant futa's massive thighs were spread. Between her legs, a chunky young guy of African heritage was kissing her cock. She was proportional all over, and it meant that her one-eyed monster was indeed a monster. The guy took pride in his work. He slurped and made obscene feminine purrs as his lips kissed her massive head, using lips that could be described only as generous.

Behind Madam Hulk, an older guy stood and was kneading her shoulders. She turned her head and kissed him on the lips for his efforts. Her other hand lovingly caressed the hair of the guy pleasuring her.

The big hard black cock slid between the boy's girly lips, immediately stuffing them open to their widest possible girth. They were wet and shiny with a smooth gloss, forming a lubricated fuck-hole for her swollen dick. The giant futa began sawing it back and forth inside the warm mouth, using quick little strokes. The cocksucker started emitting monotonous 'Glmmmph' sounds.

The giant futa spat an ice cube that she was munching into a bucket. "Yo, Boss, I told you there ain't gonna be a fifth round. Did I K.O. his ass or what?"

Brigitte shrugged.

"I knew the braindead motherfucker was gonna pull down his balls shield if he thought that I'm out."

Her hands were now holding the head of the young man fixed, as she bucked her hips and dick in and out of his mouth. Her black cock was swollen steel and pumping away between the shiny pink fuck-mouth. The wet, slurping sounds were non-stop now. On every other stroke, her shaft pulled back enough for her big black mushroom head to almost pull out before she would thrust it back in. Saliva and pre-cum had created a gooey mess around the boy's lips, and it was dripping off his chin to the blue mattress.

"People lost a lot of money today," Brigitte said. "The word on the street was that the fight was fixed."

"The championship? That's insane, Boss."

"Maybe."

"Who's your little friend?"

"This is Kevin. Nadine brought him."

Kevin was inching towards an open window. He thought he could jump out the minute everyone's eyes were elsewhere. He realized that he should have done it already.

"That bitch sure has an eye for beautiful sluts." Without a word of warning, Cecilia, AKA Madam Hulk, rose up from her seat. Her cock went out of the guy's mouth with an obscene slurp. She plodded over to where Kevin stood and lifted his chin in a bear paw, staring down at him. She had blonde hair and deep blue eyes, a common futanari gene manifestation and a mesmerizing contrast to her obsidian skin. "Where the hell did this angel come from?" she said.

Kevin tried to step back, but he had more chance winning a tug-of-war with an elephant than escaping the grip of this woman.

Her giant dong dangled between her muscled thighs when she moved. It was slick with the saliva of the guy she dropped. "Wow," she said. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Kevin wanted to ask if there was a clichés book that every futanari quoted from, but decided against angering this lady. She was a change of skin color away from being the real She-Hulk.

Hooking her thumbs under his arms, she picked him up in the air like a ragdoll and kissed his lips tenderly, then forced his lips open with her tongue. Kevin tasted the sharp sting of vodka. She then lowered him but kept holding his hand. "And I thought that I would be going to the after-party once I kicked Billy Boy's ass tonight. New plan. You and me, baby," she winked at Kevin. "We're going to my place, and we're going to burn the sheets until there are cracks in the walls."

"No, we're not," Kevin finally found his voice.

"Of, course we are,' she growled. "Don't you wanna do it with the new champion?"

"No."

"Of course you do."

"Let go of me!"

"You wanna play the coy virgin? We can do that."

"Back off, Cecilia, you're scaring him." Someone said in a stern voice. Kevin almost cried with relief. It was Nadine.

"I didn't know he was yours, Nadine."

"He's not. And you, I told you to wait for me to pick you up. Was that so complicated?"

"Let me take him, just for a short ride." The giant futanari winked.

"He ain't a Lace Boy. Kevin is a guest. Behave!" The last word was barked, and to Kevin's surprise the giant girl took a step back and raised her hands, palms up.

"Just fooling around, Nadine. Didn't mean to start no shit."

Nadine gave her a cold stare. "Five minutes without adult supervision and you girls start to behave like rabid animals foaming at the dick."

"Your guest just pulled a runner, baby," Brigitte said.

"What?"

The slim futanari motioned towards the open window. Kevin was nowhere in sight.

"Fuck!"

--------

Helen thought about Kevin's words, that he'd seen nothing she should be embarrassed about in her letters. "I never had a boyfriend," she said to Dennis and immediately felt relieved because the earth didn't swallow her.

Dennis didn't make a surprised face; he just nodded, for which she was grateful.

"I was always very insecure because... Well, you know how it is when it comes to a girl like me. You get burned one time too many, and at an early stage I decided that the heartache just wasn't worth it."

"So, you never had a boyfriend?"

"No. Not really."

"But you've decided that you want to have one."

"Very much," she was proud that her voice didn't tremble. "I need someone in my life. I'm... I guess I am very lonely."

"It shouldn't be like that, Helen. You deserve better."

"I hope I do," she gave a nervous laugh.

"That's where I come in." Dennis reached with his hand across the table and closed it around hers. "That's exactly the service I supply."

She liked the fact that he didn't make her feel like a freak for being twenty-nine with a history of zero relationships, but most of all she loved his hand in hers. "I would like that."

"If you want then we can even make it an exclusive relationship," he said.