Lamia Ch. 03

"Take us home," I said once we were inside.

"I hope you're feeling up to some fun later," Christine said, giving me a sidelong glance. She settled back into her seat with a lurch that could not possibly have been innocent, given the way it made her breasts bounce within her blouse.

I thought back to the morning and the night before, images of Christine's naked form playing before my mind's eye. My body responded predictably, making me squirm a bit in my seat to relieve the discomforting constriction from my clothing. I looked out the window to distract myself, and when I glanced back her way I caught her studying me. "Something on your mind?"

She smiled and put a hand on my arm. "I was just thinking how glad I am that I have you as my owner."

I found myself sighing, but covered it with a smile and a nod. The truth was that it felt good to get those kinds of sentiments from Christine. I liked to hear that I was wanted and appreciated, but this relationship was not sustainable. As much as I enjoyed being with her, I could not simply gloss over that what I was doing was wrong. It was not right to own another conscious being. It was slavery, by definition. Sooner or later, there would have to be a reckoning.

Back at the house, I settled into the couch and called up my old project files from the aquarium's restaurant. I frowned at what I saw. In the three years I had been operating my business, my documentation had steadily improved, and this code had almost none. My coding ability had gotten better, too. I didn't have time to start from scratch, but I would need to overhaul some parts of the program purely on principle, particularly in my database calls. For that matter, I could probably dramatically improve load times just by proper indexing of the data.

Of course, Mr. Agarwal wouldn't be impressed by some minor efficiency gains, but it might make whatever I ended up creating run much smoother. I started by analyzing and documenting all of the refactoring that I wanted to perform to bring my old code up to my new spec. For the data retrieval revisions, I could drop in a newer code module that I had developed, but still needed to go in and find all of the old function calls and rewrite them to use the new code.

I was close to finishing with that when a message notification from Christine blinked in my display. I've tidied up the house and dinner is on the way. Would you like to take it in the dining room or there on the couch?

Couch, please, I sent back. I glanced at the clock hovering at the top of my display and saw that nearly two hours had passed. Christine came out a moment later with a bowl of chips and a smaller bowl of salsa. I thanked her and dug in, giving a little grunt of satisfaction as the heat spread through my mouth.

The sound of water running and clattering dishes drifted in from the kitchen as I resumed my work. A minute later, the water shut off and soft steps padded on the carpet. Christine circled around the sofa, the television switching off, presumably at her command. Though I was still in virch, I couldn't ignore the sudden weight and heat as Christine straddled me, her lips pressed to mine. I dropped out of virch, wrapping her in my arms. She leaned back, smiling with wicked promise. Her fingers deftly pulled at the buttons on my shirt, undoing them from top to bottom in a matter of seconds.

I pulled her close once more, tilting my head to kiss the side of her neck. She shivered and moaned as I explored the smooth, soft skin beneath her jaw with my lips and tongue. My right hand roamed down her back, and I slipped it beneath the hem of her skirt, coming to rest on the warm and supple flesh of her ass. "No panties?" I asked. "Don't tell me you went out earlier like that."

Christine laughed. "Silly, of course not. I took them off just now."

"What a strange thing to do," I said. "Did my maid have the sudden urge to do her laun--?"

She covered my mouth with hers before I could finish. Her tongue touched my lips, a soft caress. I inhaled just as her breath filled my mouth, so warm. So alive. My head felt like it might float right off my shoulders. Our tongues flitted and danced together as her hands roamed over my chest. I squeezed her ass possessively. She pulled away, panting. Smoldering desire shone in her eyes.

I began to attack the buttons on her blouse, but she had other ideas, raising her body just enough to open my fly and pull my boxers down. Her slender fingers encircled the base of my cock, holding it upright beneath her skirt while she carefully lowered herself. Her face was inches from my own, her eyes looking longingly into mine. I felt the moist warmth of her nether lips pushing down against the head of my cock. Her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Does it hurt?" I asked softly.

She shook her head, her lips slightly parted and her brow knit in concentration. "Just pressure, and only at first. But once we get past--" She gasped, her body finally opening to me. Silken heat embraced my cock, and I answered her with a moan so guttural that it was nearly a growl. Her eyes had closed and her lips moved wordlessly as she sank lower. She leaned forward, nuzzling my neck. "Once you're inside me, it's perfect."

"Yes, it is," I breathed. I reached out to finish removing her blouse and unfasten the clasp of her bra behind her back. Her skirt still flared out over our lower bodies, but if anything, it made the whole experience even naughtier.

Christine rose up on her knees and then sank slowly once more, "I love making you feel good," she said. "That's what's so special about sex, isn't it? Bringing joy to someone you care deeply for."

"That and babies," I reminded her.

"Yes, there is that," she said. Was that sadness I detected on her face? It was there and gone so fast that I thought I might have imagined it. "I had a wonderful time today." Her body began to undulate over mine in languid waves, and grunts and moans punctuated her speech. "Thank you for taking me with you."

"This is more thanks than I could ever ask for," I said, and gave her a peck on the lips. "I'm going to miss our time together, after my wife gets back."

"It doesn't have to end. We'll just have to be..." she gave a cry as I met her gentle downstroke with a hard thrust of my own. Her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. "...have to be discreet."

I didn't answer, though my mind was a whirl. It might work for a while, but I'd always heard that with affairs, it was often only a matter of time before you were discovered. The responsible thing to do would be to give up on it after Trisha got back from her trip. Hell, the right thing to do, the moral thing, would be to stop everything immediately and confess to my wife what I had done and ask for her forgiveness. The problem was that I knew exactly how she would take it.

She betrayed you first, a little voice in my head reminded me. My initial anger had faded, but I was far from having forgiven her for that. I'm sure there were many people out there that would blithely tell me that it was her body, and I had no right to tell her what to do with it. Those people are morons. A marriage is a set of promises that you make to each other, and I was quite certain if Trish had turned to me on that first date and said, "I'm not all that interested in kids," I would not have called her back for a second date. If my wife was going to play fast and loose with our promises to each other, why shouldn't I get to do the same?

"Here, move over," I said, patting the cushion next to me. Christine rolled her hips a few more times before extracting herself with a sigh. She pulled her dress over her head and tossed it to the side as I stood and shucked my pants. She began to turn her body to sit, but I put a hand on her ass to guide her. "No, just like this," I said. "Up on your knees. Put your head all the way down."

She did as I suggested, folding her arms across the seat cushion and resting her cheek on her forearms. I retreated a step just to admire the sight of a beautiful woman in a pose of submission. She waited, forehead meekly pressed to the back of the couch, her legs spread to show the pretty pink folds of her pussy framed by the generous curves of her ass and thighs. My dick pulsed in time with my pounding heart.

"Fuck me, Stephen," Christine said softly. Her voice sent erotic chills up my spine. "I want to feel you in me."

I let out a guttural groan of need and gripped her by the hips, moving into place behind her. The head of my cock found the sodden valley of her sex and I pressed forward. Again, that tantalizing resistance, but only for a moment as her body quickly accommodated my girth.

"You feel so good," I breathed, sinking into the tight grip of her body. Fully sheathed within her, I leaned down to plant a kiss at the back of her neck, keeping still for the moment. "Tell me. What's it like for you? What do you feel?"

She glanced over her shoulder at me, her expression shifting to thoughtful. "You want me to describe the ineffable. It feels good, so good that I want it all the time. There's pleasure, of course, but more than that. When you're inside me, there's a..." She sighed, trying to find the words. "I feel completion. I feel like there was something missing before, but I only fully realize it when you're there."

I felt a warm glow slowly spread through my chest at her words. I held still inside her, enjoying the anticipation of pleasure. "It feels..." I began, the words catching in my throat. I swallowed and tried again. How could I describe it without it coming out sounding clichèd and overwrought? "It feels like I belong, like this is the only place on Earth I want to be."

"Mmm," she said in contented agreement. "You asked me earlier if I feel any pain. You know you're above average in size, right?"

I shrugged. "I've been told that."

"Well, every time you thrust into me, I get warning notifications. I have to keep dismissing them or they start to cloud over my field of view."

I laughed out loud at that. "Seriously, every time?"

She nodded, joining me in my mirth.

"That's a new one," I said, after our laughter had died down. "I'll try not to spam you too much."

"You should have seen all the messages you were sending up that time in the shower."

"You mean when I did this," I said, withdrawing all of the way and immediately plowing back into her.

"Oh, oh my--" she said, ending in a moan as I bottomed out within her. I felt her pussy give a flutter around my cock and she could do nothing but whimper for several seconds while I thrust back and forth more gently.

"Did you just cum?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," she said, and took a moment to come back to herself. She rose up on hands and knees and looked over her shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. "Is that weird?"

"No, it's hot," I said. "I love to watch a woman climax. The sounds you make, the way you lose control of yourself, the way you squeeze down on me. And few things can make a guy more proud than to make a woman cum just from fucking her."

She giggled. "Well, I'm glad I make you feel proud."

I laughed in return. "You do a lot more than that. For example..." I began giving her long, slow strokes, dragging out until I felt that little catch of my glans hitting her entrance, then reversing, pushing into warm, slick velvet, lighting up every nerve ending along my length. "Fuck, you feel amazing," I breathed.

"Yes, Stephen, oh God, yes," she said, closing her eyes and sinking back down. "You feel so good. Don't stop."

"Tell me what you want," I said, teasing myself with my slow fucking as much as I was teasing her.

"I want you to fill me up with your cum," she said. "I want it all warm inside me. I want to feel it dribble down my leg when I go to get your dinner."

The erotic imagery got me to increase my pace without consciously realizing it, but Christine's moaning gave it away. She was so wet that I could feel it coating my cock and drooling sensuously down its length

"What else?" I asked. "Tell me every dirty little secret." I punctuated my request with a sharp slap to her upturned ass, getting a yelp of surprise.

"Oh, fuck! Grab my ass and pound my tight little pussy. I want to feel your balls--ah!--slapping against me. Just take me. Take me and--and use me."

And I did, fucking her so hard that all she could do was grunt and moan as my thighs slapped into her ass. Never had I done anything like this before, this primal release of all inhibitions, almost violent in its physicality, Christine came again, shaking, her legs going to jelly, but I held her upright desperate now for my own climax, fucking right through her orgasm as her body twitched and shook out of her control.

She managed to right herself, but only for a few seconds before the next wave hit her. She stiffened and cried out as warm fluid struck my thighs and began to run down my legs. It took me a moment to realize what had happened as more of her fluid dribbled onto my legs and feet. And then my own orgasm hit me with a force like nothing I'd felt before. I buried my cock fully into Christine as waves of pleasure shot through it, through me, muscles clenching and releasing as it felt like I dumped a gallon of semen into her. I was still groaning, my cock still feebly twitching long after it would have normally been over, as though my body were absolutely determined to breed this woman with every last sperm it could.

Still holding myself inside Christine, still gasping, I lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from around my face. I gave a shuddering breath and slowly pulled out of her. More of her watery fluid dribbled out of her from where it had been trapped inside, along with my own semen. I inhaled the musky-sweet scent of Christine's fluids mixed with the earthy scent of my own cum.

I sat down next to Christine on the couch and she snuggled up against me, her soft hair brushing my cheek as she nestled her face into my shoulder. I stroked her hair gently with one hand while my other carelessly glided down her back, over the curve of her ass and back up again. The words she spoke were so soft that I almost missed that she had spoken at all. "What did you say?" I asked.

She sighed, and I could sense the hesitation before she spoke again. "I love you, Stephen."

I only nodded silently, still too lost in euphoria to really engage my rational brain. She stayed there in my embrace for just a bit longer before extracting herself. "We made a huge mess," she said, gesturing at the gloops and runnels of our combined fluids on the couch, the floor, and each other. "I'm going to go get a shower and then clean this up."

"Okay, sure," I agreed, though I wished that she would stay with me. I got up a few minutes later and stumbled towards the downstairs bathroom. Christine had apparently showered quickly and efficiently. She was already toweling off, giving me generous glimpses of her body that would surely get me hard again if the show went on much longer. She wrapped the towel around herself, securing it above her breasts.

"Excuse me, sir," she said with a suggestive smile, as she slipped past me to the hallway. I peeked out the door to see her running quietly up the stairs, probably heading to her room to get dressed.

I turned on the shower and got in. The haze was finally clearing from my mind as hot water cascaded over me, and I realized two things. One was that an android, a machine, had just professed love for me. That simply boggled belief, and wasn't something I could wrap my brain around just yet. The second was that Christine had been behaving very oddly ever since that moment. It felt to me the way a woman acts when she is very upset and desperately trying to hide it.

I took my time showering and returned to the living room clad in a towel. I could hear the sounds of intermittent running water from the kitchen as I checked the sofa. Christine had done a great job getting the mess cleaned up, and other than the dampness of the sofa and the carpet, it looked like our sloppy sex had never happened.

I went to the kitchen to find Christine with her back to me, the rise and fall of her shoulders accompanying the sound of chopping. She had dressed in one of her more obvious maid outfits, a knee-length black skirt and blue blouse, with a large white apron tied at her waist.

"I'll bring it out to you," she said without turning.

I walked up behind her, only just aware of the tantalizing scent of Mexican food. I reached out to touch her shoulder, and she stiffened for just a moment. "I--I just need a moment more with the cilantro and--and..."

She trailed off as I turned her gently around. She still held the knife in her right hand and tears streaked her face. Had she been wearing makeup, she would have looked a complete mess, but it only made her look achingly beautiful. "What is it?" I asked, my breath hitching in my throat at seeing her in distress.

"It's nothing," she said. "There's nothing..."

I gave her a look that silenced her protest. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

She swallowed and looked down. "I can't."

"Did you..." I started. "Did what we did out there hurt you?"

"No, it isn't that," she said, her gaze rising once more to meet mine. "No, Stephen, that was wonderful." She closed her eyes as more tears welled up. "I wish I could..." She stopped and her lips trembled, as though she had more to say, but simply couldn't get the words out.

"What are you trying to tell me?" I coaxed her, taking her hand

"Lamia," she said. Instantly, her body jerked, she gasped and then went still.

I stared at her in confusion, "What?"

I waited for more, but she only stared at me silently. A tight ball of fear clenched in my gut. I dropped her hand and took a step back without thinking, reacting on instinct. Her body was completely still. Her features had gone slack, her mouth open slightly and even her breathing had stopped. Her eyes looked straight ahead, unblinking.

The uncanny valley, I realized. My hindbrain thought I was looking at a corpse, and had reacted with subconscious revulsion.

"Christine?" I ventured. "What's wrong?"

She took a sharp breath, her eyes darting around, taking in me, the kitchen, the dinner she had been preparing. Perhaps five seconds had passed while she had stood there, unnaturally still. She turned over the knife in her hand. "What's happening?" she asked, more puzzled than alarmed. "What am I doing?"

I took another step back before catching myself. "We were talking. You were upset. You don't remember?"

She turned to look at the food she had been plating, then back at me. "This is strange. I appear to be missing close to one hour of memory." She frowned. "I have a notification that says that the missing data, along with a few unrelated segments, became corrupted. It was generating critical errors in multiple systems. A shutdown was initiated and the faulty data was deleted." She gave a nervous chuckle. "I guess that's a good thing, but I have to say that I find it all a little unsettling."

"What's the last thing you remember?" I asked, feeling my stomach sink in anticipation of the answer.

"I had just put dinner in the oven and was about to text you. Looks like I managed to finish dinner, at least."

"Yes, yes you did." And then she had forgotten all about coming out to the living roon, initiating sex and everything afterward, including her odd behavior. That was far, far too convenient to be an accident. The entire experience had been powerful and intense, and I'm sure it would take me time to process what it had all meant. To have that memory simply scooped out of her and thrown away made me inexplicably angry.

"You mean you don't remember any of it?" I demanded. "Telling me you loved me, crying afterward?"