tagSci-Fi & FantasyLife as a New Hire Ch. 15

Life as a New Hire Ch. 15

byFinalStand©

This story plays fast and loose with Ancient History and Linguistics; be warned.

Just as echoes pollute sound, the echoes of our histories pollute our view of the World.

I had to fall back on a dedicated group of readers for editor assistance. The faults are mine.


*****

(Wednesday Night)

Yasmin had a kink I hadn't really had to deal with before. She liked having sex standing up - anywhere. Sure I had made love in hallways, showers and against a refrigerator once, but Yasmin took this to a whole new level. The most horizontal I got her was fucking her on my bedroom dresser.

She was also an aggressive nibbler which is a kind way of saying she bites down hard without breaking the skin. The scars would fade by morning, but I was going to catch Hell from Timothy and Odette later tonight. Our experience was...enhanced by yet another reality I was unaware of. Yasmin's ex was an 'intellectual'.

In Brazil that must translate as a small penis with limited stamina, but don't hold me to that. Since the birth of her son and the 'incident' with her husband, Yasmin hadn't much 'personal' time - read: not much finger, or vibrator usage. Yasmin was tight, famished and extra aroused by me kicking Felix's macho ass an hour earlier.

I ushered Yasmin into my place, she was looking smoky yet contained, so I gave her the ten cent tour. When I turned around, her sandals, pants and shirt were off. Silky violet was a good color on her. Yasmin didn't rush the removal of her final items, using their skimpy allure to draw me in like a striker to the goal.

My Brazilian MILF loved being appreciated for every nuanced curve, scent and taste. She let me slip off her bra first then she pulled off my shirt. She didn't let me get behind her. This allowed her to pace her own aggression. Cáel was along for the ride. This wasn't fem domination, just a very hungry lady looking for some first-rate sportsmanship.

Lucky for me, I was a full service arena with overtime expertise. Every little 'Give and Go' and 'tackle' was received, or dodged to keep our game in play. Here I was thinking of swinging a little more upper body workout later tonight. Yasmin's gymnastics made that redundant. My first insertion was welcomed by her.

Yasmin repaid my diligence with lip services, strong hands massaging my back and arms, plus timely input concerning what was good and bad without running over the passion. Yasmin was not at Buffy's level of competition. Instead she brought her own torrid spirit that was new and exciting.

I had no idea how Yasmin's husband ever found the energy to cheat on her. Yasmin would seek breaks in our activities. The rest of the hour-plus she was either at a vivid simmer, or a full-on blowtorch. Half the time I didn't even have to direct our intimacy; Yasmin was happy to manage all of the movements using her thighs, stomach muscles and arms to make it a highly memorable performance.

As we staggered down from the peak of my climax, a sweaty, panting Yasmin informed me that she was glad she had started doing handstand push-ups once more. For those not in the know, imagine doing a handstand facing a wall. Now push your body up the wall which is occasionally done with your fingertips if you are a true bad-ass...like Yasmin and Timothy.

That is another exercise I'm going to have to work on. Jacking-off and squeezing stress balls wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"Ora, ora, meu bombom precioso ... muito bom," Yasmin purred as I put her legs down - I had been holding the back of her knees with my elbows.

"I'm the bomb? Sweet!" I sounded as energetic as I was able. My Brazilian Nitro-girl began laughing. "What did the rest of it mean?"

"With every orgasm you give me, I'll give you a word," she taunted me. I looked at the ceiling.

"I'm looking for a downside to that challenge," I met her gaze. "I can't see one."

"We'll see about that when I leave. I have a sitter until 11:00 p.m. so you have good deal of bravado I want you to back-up," Yasmin looked carnivorously-aroused. We did get around to getting cleaned up then hoofed it to a local Egyptian cuisine eatery. On the way back, I screwed her against a streetlamp with the light burned out.

You see a good deal of humor about girls in super-tight pants and all the contortions they go through to get into them. Peeling them out is much, much easier. Maybe it is the inspiration that makes the difference. Best of all, the reactions of people walking around us, or across the street. Overt disgust, ignoring the whole situation, and, my favorite, the running commentary.

(First couple)

#1 Girl: "Why don't we ever do that?"

#1 Guy: "Do you bend that way?"

(Second couple)

#2 Girl: "Do you think she's hotter than me?"

#2 Guy: "Let's go down to the next lamppost and find out."

(Third couple)

#3 Guy: "Don't they have a bed, or are they homeless?" There was no way we were dressed like homeless!

#3 Girl: "You have all the romance of a rhino." Somebody wasn't getting some tonight.

And because we were in a major metropolis,

(Fourth couple)

#4 Girl (1): "Are you practicing safe sex? If not, I have a condom," she touched my shoulder.

Me: "We are good. I use Durex normally, though I'll use Trojan too."

#4 Girl (2): "Are you okay, Miss?"

Yasmin: (unhappy): "I'm fine. Now either let my man get back to slaking my every lust, or join in."

#4 Girl (2) "Are you serious?" to Yasmin.

#4 Girl (1) "Are you okay with this?" she addressed me. "She's my girlfriend."

A few seconds of grunting, gasping sex ensued.

Yasmin: "Yes, I am serious and you two are killing the mood. Mount up, or get off my horsie."

The two ladies looked at one another.

#4 Girl (1): "She's very ho...attractive. What do you say? It is safe sex," hint, hint.

And thus I had a lesbian four-way. The first girl, Evie, was bi- and worked at Planned Parenthood, explaining the condom lore. Girl two, Samantha, was a lesbian, but having a strong sex drive, decided that Yasmin was as luscious as I thought she was. Back at my place, it took Samantha thirty minutes to get used to sharing her bed with a man.

By then she decided I wasn't the enemy, despite my penis and hunger for the female form. Evie and Yasmin had zip inhibitions and let the lesbian and the straight guy work our differences while they basked in each other's femininity. Yasmin insisted she wasn't a lesbian, or bi-sexual. She had no sexual hang ups and found American's confusing because they did.

We had wrapped up the first round with Evie giving me a quick blowjob because I had been a good boy and kept my sperm holstered for the entire encounter. Samantha threw on one of Odette's t-shirts (I didn't explain) and went to the bathroom. I got washed up - Samantha gave me a dirty look from the toilet then I reminded her I'd just seen her naked.

We both exited to the living room and took up spots on the sofa as we waited for our prospective partner. I heard my roommates keys jingle in the lock. He walked in, taking in the now familiar scene of me with a new girl on the sofa.

"Timothy Denver!" Samantha squealed when my roommate showed up.

"Sammy...what are you doing in my apartment...with him?" Timothy meant me. They (Timothy and Samantha) hugged each other, Timothy lifting her off the ground.

"Me and Evie are sharing his girlfriend," Samantha explained.

"Which one?" Timothy put her down. Samantha shot me a semi-hostile look.

Yasmin and Evie came out of the bedroom - having found Evie's clothing. That was their story and I wasn't going to argue with it.

"Hi Timothy!" Evie ran up and hugged him too. Up she went.

"Timothy, this is Yasmin," I made introductions.

"The Brazilian Hottie," Timothy noted.

"Yasmin, is Cáel sleeping around you on you?" Samantha inquired.

"No. Cáel has sex with far too many other women to cheat on me," she informed them. Samantha didn't know what to make of that.

"That means she's aware that I date a lot," I explained. I would have asked how Samantha, Evie and Timothy knew each other except now all their body art made sense.

"Timothy, are you and Cáel..." Samantha asked. Timothy rolled his eyes.

"God, I wish," Timothy sighed dramatically. "The dick on this guy is phenomenal."

"Sammy, I know you would never, ever, ever go that way, but if you did, do it with Cáel here," Timothy told her. "He is the most sensitive, skilled and empathic lover I've ever seen. He's not at all possessive and totally confident in who he is." Sammy didn't look like she was contemplating a gender-preference switch. She was getting between me and Evie.

"As long as you understand you, me and Evie," Sammy warned me.

"Sadly, fidelity is not one of my virtues," I shrugged. "I could lie to you about it. You seem to be Timothy's friend, so I should treat you better than that."

"You can trust me around Cáel," Evie insisted.

"No, we can't," Timothy, Sammy and Yasmin all spoke simultaneously. I wasn't trustworthy, but at least I was consistently untrustworthy.

"Listen to your friends and the woman you barely know," I met Evie's gaze. "I know I couldn't control myself around you and we'd both regret it."

No we wouldn't. I could see that fire deep in her eyes. We were going to have sex again, just me and she. I was a lowdown dirty dog who gave an incredible dicking and I'd already made an insertion into Evie's body and mind. Not that it was terribly important to me; she was okay at sex, though not great. My words were for the listening audience. Timothy knew me better.

"Cáel," Timothy stated firmly. "For me, man - don't fool around with Evie." I'd lied to roommates all the time. Like the women in my life, I wanted to keep them happy, or happily neutral. That attitude suddenly didn't work for me.

"How?" sort of spilled out. No one expected my plaintive cry for relationship help.

"What?" Sammy gulped. Yasmin snickered. She knew the score.

"Sammy, Cáel's nailed a girl who was making a food delivery to us. In around an hour and a half, a waitress he met for a minute and gave his number to, will be here. She moved into his room. They are not a couple," Timothy tried to explain.

"She lives here to hang out with me and bangs Cáel when he doesn't have anyone else over, yet, I swear on Buddha's Belly, I've never seen him abuse a girl," Timothy continued. "It is the strangest damn thing I've ever seen. He's stacked them up like jets at LaGuardia."

"He's a shit-head player," Sammy glared.

"Do you feel used?" Yasmin pointed out. "You don't because you weren't. He's not trying to out-dick your vagina. He's not out to steal Evie. He is admittedly hormonally unbalanced. That doesn't make him a bastard. I'm not here looking for a boyfriend and if I was, it would never be Cáel."

"If you can get past the fact he might have sex with your girlfriend from time to time, he's really a great guy," Yasmin added. "Cáel is fearless and as long as sex is not involved, completely reliable." Sammy was clearly not believing any of this, finally turning back to Timothy.

"He gives an incredibly good dicking, he's a dog, and he's one of my best friends," Timothy shrugged.

I had been 'one of the guys', a 'buddy' and 'dude'. I had never been considered a man's best friend before and I had never heard Timothy toss that term around about anybody. I went up and hugged him.

"Dude, you have lousy taste in friends," I patted his back.

"Cáel, I have plenty of friends who wouldn't abandon me in a fight. You are the only person I know who took an arrow for a little girl you barely knew," Timothy patted my back. "You don't find that dedication often. In the past two months we've been through more freaky shit than I've experience in the past ten years. Faults and all, this has been the best time of my life."

I stepped back until we were at arm's length.

"I take that back. You don't have lousy taste in friends - you are delusional," I blinked.

"He got shot - took an arrow - for a little girl?" Sammy gulped. "How come this is the first I'm hearing about it?"

"That would be the bandage on your leg?" Evie pointed.

"I have a dangerous job," I regarded the new girls. "I test poultry for signs of intelligence. Let's just say that a sleeper cell got past me and chaos ensued."

"Translation: he can't talk about it," Yasmin smirked.

"What do you do you really do?" Sammy pressed.

"I'm working on a special project. We are taping strobe lights to Garden Gnomes then, using hobby store-bought rockets, my corporation is going to sell them as a Developing World-friendly alternative to the current GPS system," I looked grim.

"Really?" Sammy looked uncertain.

"I work for a really sleazy corporation," I confessed. "There is nothing they wouldn't do for a buck."

"That's heartless," Sammy protested. "Men like that are raping the planet and exploiting the poor."

"Sammy, I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments. I am one of three men in the entire workforce - that is well over 10,000 women; undoubtedly more," I smirked. "If it is any consolation, I am treated as little more than a pin-up model by my co-workers."

"Oh wow," Evie snickered. "Were you hired for your looks?"

"Hardly," I declared with authority. "I majored in Business with a minor in Philosophy from Bolingbrook College in New Hampshire, an institute of higher learning renowned for its 70% female student population and nothing else. Still, I am working for a Fortune 500 company at a job I am totally unqualified for, earning an unheard of starting salary and constantly required to work shirtless, or naked."

"Personally, I think it was my creative writing skills that won them over," I nodded sagely.

"You are a jerk," Timothy snorted. "I hate it when you tell the truth and make it sound unbelievable. It is a skill I've never seen wielding so cuttingly." No one said anything for a few seconds.

"It is really annoying that no one believes I earned my position because I'm actually intelligent and hard-working," I grumbled.

"Welcome to the world of a Carnival dancer," Yasmin laughed.

"I was going 'a blond bimbo'," Sammy agreed, "but that works too." That broke down the social ice. Letting yourself soak up a bit of ridicule can pay huge dividends. I was going to be back in bed with every single woman in the room - even the lesbian, though I'd be sharing a girl with her, wait and see.

For some reason, Sammy remained convinced I was an asshole, so she dared me to kiss Timothy. I shrugged, Timothy shrugged, so we kissed. Seriously, I have no clue what I WON'T do for sex. When Timothy slipped me some tongue I nutted him. As he doubled over, I told him I wasn't the kind of guy who went beyond second base on the first date.

The group informed me that second base was touching my cock...whoops. Then Evie reminded me that I had sex with her within fifteen minutes of our initial meeting. I replied I hadn't had anal sex with her yet, but if that was the case, I was sure Timothy would be a good sport about it all. Timothy had finally gotten back to his feet. Again, he nodded.

This time he snatched me up, bench pressed me over his head (man, we need to re-spackle the ceiling) and bounced me off the sofa. Timothy is really strong too. I hit the floor, face down, but with my knees and palms catching my weight. I quickly summersaulted and regained my footing. I trusted Timothy. Still, talking about anal sex with a big, buff gay man then assuming the doggy-style position...let's not tempt fate.

My antics earned me another round of sex. After Evie exploded (figuratively) all over the place with her...third orgasm, I looked over Yasmin's shoulder to Sammy, who was sexing up my Brazilian from the other side.

"I have totally and completely re-evaluated having a lesbian in bed with me, Sammy," I testified. "You rock!"

Sammy shot me a look, realized I was expounding true praise and picked up her ravishing of Yasmin. After we demolished Yasmin, Sammy mounted me. My cock was on my belly with her soaked pussy pressing on it. She wanted a 'test drive' more than anything else - the experience of feeling the differences between the masculine and feminine skeletal and muscular textures and nuances.

"Can I touch your breasts?" I requested. Sammy thought it over, eventually giving me an 'okay' look. She had those nice, banana-cone shaped breasts with huge areolas and sizable nipples. I started off by lifting and weighing each teat, taking it nice and leisurely. Sammy decided I was doing a passable job so she stopped studying me and got into the sensation of the moment.

That little gasp cued me in that I had earned the right to move a little farther. Her nipples were already engaged. A half-dozen grazing passes and they were definitely joyous. Lesbians, bi-sexual and straight women all have the same physiology, yet different visually, audibly, and olfactory stimuli were specific arousal cues.

Most lesbians didn't like Old Spice, The Firemen of New York calendars and Enrique Iglesias. At the very least they aren't throwing their panties at Enrique. Touch and taste tend to be unisex. Baring you having big, calloused man-paws, fingers are fingers and hands are hands. Taste is taste and more individual specific than gender-related.

Sorry ladies, your sweat can stink as much as a men's does. It is more a matter of diet. Both sexes should clean up 'down there'. It is common sexual courtesy, so use it. When I can, I use a subtle cologne though I've used women's Secret deodorant on rare occasions. It earned me curious looks every time, but it never stopped them.

Sammy was already taking quick gulps of air when her worried eyes looked down at me again. She wanted to tell me to stop. She was caught in a double bind - she was getting gratification and the only reason to refuse it was because I was a man; a man she had allowed to touch her. That would make her either sexist, or a bigot.

Never ignore the allure of the female orgasm. Add to that, never ignore the power of friendship. As Sammy struggled to master her 'lesbian outrage', Evie sneaked behind her, wiggling two fingers past my nut-sack, along my cock and into Sammy's pussy from behind.

"Evie," Sammy moaned in protest.

"Sammy-love, he's not trying to fuck you," Evie murmured to her companion. "You are liking what he's doing and you know you have dynamite nipples. Let him have a sample." To me, "She likes a whole lot of suction and a tiny bit of teeth." Sammy attempted some kind of protest. Yasmin stroking Sammy's upper thigh, hip and stomach breached the dam of her inhibitions.

So, I had a lesbian lowering her body toward mine. First her palms rested on my shoulders. Sammy's body flowed up mine until her elbows replaced her hands and her tits were now accessible. As advised, I applied a wet vacuum seal to her right areola and nipple. I twirled my tongue around her savory flesh, bringing Sammy to the point she embraced her tantric titillation.

"You should have longer hair," she purred as she ran one hand through my locks. "I don't normally go for butch girls." You guys go be indignant if you wish. These were some sweet teats I was indulging in and I had zero regrets about 'girling-up' for a lesbian. Sammy finally climbed to the mountaintop of her orgasmic quest and howled out her victory.

She cascade down on me, my lower stomach syrupy with her juices and her bosom muzzling my face. Yasmin went to her knees, leaned over Sammy's prostrate form and began seriously making out with Evie. I lived in a vortex of unexpected pleasure and fulfillment. I had taken part in making a lesbian sexually complete.

"You are the best guy I've ever been with," Sammy murmured.

"He's the only guy you've ever been with," Evie teased.

"Fine. He's still the best. Cáel, have you ever thought about becoming a post-op transsexual?" Sammy giggled.

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