My Only Talent Ch. 30

*******

Dwight stayed up all night doing some emergency coding, or at least that's what everyone at his new California assignment for the agency thought he was doing. They had discovered a bit of a problem with response time in certain map scenarios, and the problem was obviously the sorting algorithm that they were using. It only took Dwight about ten minutes to install an improved version that the agency often used, pre-sorting the choices and 'pruning the tree' before sorting to find the final path. The rest of an hour to tune it up and make sure it met specs, like the old version didn't. At the project review meeting the next morning, Dwight would step up with a rumpled shirt and sleepy eyes, report that the problem was solved, and get noticed by some people he needed to meet and check out.

With that done, now he had the rest of the night to observe who else was pulling an all-nighter - and what folks around here normally did on 'third shift'. He started with the break room. It was empty. There was some left over birthday cake from someone's party this afternoon, and some very badly burned coffee. Dwight didn't drink coffee, but he felt duty bound to pour all that old crap out and make a new batch. It was interesting that they didn't have one of those 'circulate the water through the aluminum envelope' machines that were so popular now. This was a real live coffee maker - 36 cups worth. He loaded it up and started the brewing cycle.

Next stop - loading dock. You could learn a lot by observing loading docks and parking lots. At MIT, he saw a cool old paper about a guy who could predict stock prices of Silicon Valley companies just by tracking to density of cars in the parking lots. It was done back in the early 80's. Dwight had built an app that called some earthsat sites and automated 90% of the process. He found that these days it worked better for hardware makers than software or SAAS companies, even for the ones with plants in Malaysia or China. But at his next agency polygraph, he had to explain in great detail that all the stock trading profits were from the app, not insider trading.

There were the normal janitors emptying the garbage kind of things happening, and one guy taking fixed asset physical inventory with a scanner. There was no guard around though, even though the doors were open and garbage was being offloaded. Not good. He walked up the hall and found the guard chatting up a female janitor, both of them leaning against the wall. He went up a level and passed by the customer service area - two FSE's on duty for the customers in Asia where it was already tomorrow. One had his feet up on the desk and was reading a lurid and colorful T&A magazine. In these days when every broadband stream in the workplace was usually monitored and or interrupted if not white listed, the old jugs mags and porno books were becoming collector's items.

Up another level to 'mahogany row' - the C level offices. It was still often called that, even though paneling was now usually bamboo - much more PC. The VP Sales Asia was talking on a speaker phone very loudly in very bad Mandarin, and furthermore badly misrepresenting the product. If he made the sale some poor FSE would end up telling the customer the truth and catching all the shit later. That might be the plan. His door was open and he was clearly getting frustrated about his inability to communicate. The customer was in Shanghai, but this guy was speaking in a very bad nasal northern dialect. Dwight decided to keep his mouth shut and keep his language skills secret for now.

Dwight went back to his office and logged into the packet sniffers he had planted, reviewing the file transfers, email traffic and VOIP calls. Something was rotten in Denmark. Someone was sending out a really big file, to an ipv6 address that was obviously, at least to Dwight, spoofed. Who and what could he or should he tell about this without someone tumbling to his unauthorized sniffing of the network? He finally decided to change one bit in the file, which would show up as an edit made by the spoofed external user just at the time the transfer had started a few minutes ago. That bit marked it for being backed up singly, rather than with its normal cohort of files. Would that be enough for the sysop to spot it and tumble to the unauthorized transfer?

As he emerged from his office, he turned down the hall to see which sysops might be on duty. But as he passed by the CEO's office, he was astounded to find the door open and the sound of female laughter and a truly off key male singing voice. There were two 'young ladies' who might be 18 but surely were not yet 21 draped across the couch while the CEO sat up on his desk and sang, if you could call it that. This was not good.

*******

I was back at the Holiday Inn Express. The bride's mother was still hollering and chasing me, and asking to see my checking account balance. I ran over to the exhibition center, where a crew was putting up wires covered with cheap plastic flowers to try to hide the concrete walls. There was a rehearsal going on - the bride looked just like Lynn Da Britain, except 50 pounds heavier and smoking a cigarette. I ran up toward the front of the room, yelling "Stop, stop." Kevin was shaking me awake. "Robbie, wake up. Aren't you supposed to go to Lara's for supper?"

I showered hurriedly and put on a nice shirt and some slacks. The shirt was a little tight across the chest. It was a little cool out so I put on my English blazer, without the lining, and sauntered over to Lara's. I was about 20 minutes late arriving. Suzanne opened the door and kissed me - Lara was in the kitchen. When we got to the kitchen, we all three kissed each other.

Leftovers Lara style turned out to be 'planned overs' in the form of a previously made up but uncooked chicken casserole just about ready to come out of the oven, a fruit salad, and freshly cooked gruyere potatoes and green beans almandine. Sure beats the hell out of two day old bologna sandwiches. The smell of good food acted directly on my brain and made me feel much less anxious. Lara puttered at the stove while Suzanne and I finished setting the table.

Suzanne, as usual, began the conversation. "This smells wonderful, Lara. I am getting two great dinners in a row. Nora's cooking at the co-op last night was unreal. Dinner for 24, and she didn't even break a sweat, and it was four stars all the way. If Wall Street doesn't work out she can always open a restaurant or do a cooking show. The people over there at the housing co-op already worship her meals, and I can understand why!"

Lara piped up. "I am surprised there were open seats for guests on one of her nights to cook."

"Only because two people had to be out of town."

Lara beckoned to me. "Help me carry stuff to the dinner table, Robbie?" That was largely symbolic, given that the kitchen counter was 4 feet from the table, but I was glad to serve. The food was great, especially compared to the dorm, which was not that bad, in its own way.

Lara talked about her new schedule, revealing her changed goal of getting in to law school. I had heard law school enrollments were way down in the last few years. I thought she needn't worry - anyone who could pay tuition could probably get in. But she made it clear she did not want just any law school. Georgetown, Yale, Harvard, and Stanford were her top list. UT Austin was her backup school, and SMU was her final backstop.

"Why the change, Lara?" Suzanne looked curious.

Lara laughed. "I can't stay an undetermined major forever. Seriously, I wanted to do something that would be compatible with my non-career plans. I want to have a family, and I figure if I have a law license I can find something to do whatever the family situation."

Suzanne asked "What would be your preferred family situation, Lara?"

"Four kids or more, but I can't have them by myself."

I had been in another of a series of sophomoric discussions at UDP about just this subject, so I offered up, "Actually, these days you might be able to!"

Lara looked at me funny. "I have been studying the issue. There are at least three ways I could have a baby as a single woman that would allow me to contribute at least half of the child's genome, and a few more that offer me a contribution of somewhat less than half but reduce the probability of certain genetic anomalies. But I don't want to raise kids by myself. I want them to have a dad and a mom in the home - I am convinced that is the best situation for a child."

Suzanne took up the conversation, with a little challenge in her tone. "That's very traditional of you, Lara."

"I don't want to say that's the only way to do it, or anything like that. That's just my opinion and how I would have to do it. I would also home school, but that's not for everyone, either."

Suzanne was getting interested. "Robbie, would you be a sperm donor for a single woman that wanted to have a child?"

This had been the crux of the UDP discussion - mainly that you could later get tapped for child support even if the 'mom' originally did not want you involved other than as just a donor. In my case, it would be totally irresponsible to let a kid who was likely to have inherited my only talent grow up without some help from his Dad. That wasn't the only reason, either.

"No. I think I would have been really screwed up without my Dad being there for me while I was growing up, and I think it's even worse for little girls. 'Daddy Issues' are a very real danger for a young girl." I also remembered Ralph going on and on about 'extra-chromosomal inheritance' and some of the as yet unexplained differences in babies that resulted from artificial or modified fertilization. "If I was going to be the father, it would be through normal intercourse and the mom and I would both have to be there for the kid until it was fully grown. That's just my opinion. Someone else can do it their way."

Lara smiled, then frowned. "It's a brave new world in many ways, but sometimes I get surprised. I spoke to an old Hockaday chum of mine, now a very out and outspoken lesbian. She was shocked to learn that old 'Super Straight' Lara had been with a woman. But then she got really angry when I told her that meant I was bi! She said people are either gay or straight or are kidding themselves and that bisexuals were the biggest fraud of all, and then walked away in a huff."

That reminded me of another UDP sophomoric discussion about gender roles. That seemed to be the only kind of discussion going on about that subject. Ralph was shocked to discover that one of his early childhood role models from television reruns, Doogie Houser, was played by a gay actor. Ralph could certainly identify with the perfect SAT score and skipping lots of grades in school, but he was flummoxed by the gay thing. Especially after he read something in a gossip rag at the dentist's office. He had thought he understood what gay guys did in terms of sex acts, but he thought they all just did the same things to each other, sort of back and forth. The article quoted his once favorite actor as saying he was married to another man, and that he was the 'wife' in the relationship and the other guy was the 'husband'. This lead to an extended, embarrassing, and very sophomoric discussion of 'tops' and 'bottoms' and then 'power bottoms', to which an exasperated Ralph had said "How do they keep all those roles in mind? Do they wear colored tags to the gay bars? Is there a secret handshake? That's even more trouble than trying to understand women!"

Lara brought me back to the present conversation. "Well, child bearing is all futures and hypotheticals for now. Suzanne, why don't you be the first on the massage table tonight?"

Suzanne giggled "I thought you'd never ask!" and walked over to the massage table, skinned out of her jeans and top, which was all she had on, and did one smooth 'un-dip' with her arms up onto the table. Her body was for all practical purposes perfect, and often inspired me to try some almost impractical things, just for fun. She turned over onto her tummy, and I began massaging her feet while Lara did her hands. Lara offered me some of her special massage oil, and we both worked toward the center from the edges. The massage table was extra-long, and Suzanne was not, so there was plenty of room to stretch her arms out towards one end of the table, and her legs toward the other. Her chin and nose were facing down into the little 'chin and nose porthole' in the cushion that faced down to allow her to breathe. Suzanne made little sighing noises, and became more and more relaxed. It was amazing how peaceful it was for me to just concentrate on pleasing her.

It occurred to me that when I just ignored her Suzie signals and just let myself go and do what I wanted, Suzanne seemed to get off the best. Would that work in reverse? If I just let Suzanne do what she wanted, would that get me off the best? That's all the time I had to speculate, as when my hands reached the back of her thighs and Lara's reached her deep back muscles, Suzanne's little Suzie was loudly whistling a happy tune. Suddenly Lara and I both detected the telltale aroma of the incredible Suzanne Snatch, AKA the Preternaturally Perfect Pliskin Pussy.

Lara did one of her cartoon character imitations: "Ruh Roh! Perhaps you better turn over."

Suzanne did turn over, slowly and languidly, smiling smugly and making eye contact with each of us as she did so. She glistened, literally. I realize that I am grateful just to be in the room with this woman. We repeated the routine - start at the extremities and move toward the center. Lara, the massage table owner, had set the rules: the first two orgasms of the evening had to be manual - massage induced - rather than actual sex acts. As a result of this rule I had previously discovered that I really did not like hand jobs -even when given by such spectacular women as these. Lara loved doing it too me, though. She liked to see 'undeniable visual evidence' that she had 'got the job done' as she put it. But I also discovered that using my hands to get these two off completely fascinated me. When I was a kid, I was spellbound the first time I used a potter's wheel, seeing that just minor movements of my fingers could result in such dramatic changes in the clay.

But this was even better. Minor movements of my fingers produced some really large and artistic reactions in this new and wonderful medium of spectacular female flesh. Soon my fingers were making a 'vee' alternatively squeezing and spreading Suzanne's outer pussy lips, while Lara's perfectly manicured fingers and red nails reached inside and brought her to a spectacular sneezing orgasm.

The players changed places, and Lara soon succumbed to same treatment, with the same result, sans sneezes.

As I rotated onto my place up on the table, they bade me to start on my back, and I saluted them without using my hands. When I was approaching the point of no return, they had me turn over and around. This placed my legs toward the short side of the table, and the rest of my body on the long side, and there was only one place for my dick to go - down into the 'chin rest' porthole. This was the only yoga position I actually liked. Lara called it the 'downward dangling dong'. Since the first two orgasms having been attained through manual means, Lara was now 'legal' and she swung under the table with her red fingernails being the only thing showing on either side of the top of massage table. She began to slowly lick and suck me while Suzanne bent my legs at the knees and massaged the back of my thighs.

I suddenly remembered having a crush on a gorgeous diver on the 'elite swim' private swim team in Highland Park. She was a senior when I started high school, and a highly recruited world class diver. She was short coupled like Suzanne, but her core muscles were thick and powerful, able to twist her body rapidly and in any way she wanted between the time she left the diving board and when she hit the water. She had a very stereotyped exercise routine that she performed poolside so everyone could see, consisting of sit-ups, push-ups, etc. plus a spectacular finish. She suspended herself under the diving board with her feet pressing against the underside, and put her hands on either side of the diving board and did 'upside down push ups', counting each one off as her nose (and simultaneously her hot, pointy little breasts) touched the bottom of the diving board.

I am sure that all this was for somebody's benefit other than mine, and I'm not even sure she even knew I existed, but I never missed an opportunity to watch the spectacle. The fantasies I had then suddenly connected with the reality of what was happening to me now, but Lara was no fantasy, and when I came she sucked me dry in a manner decidedly superior to my pubescent fantasies, and her fingers straining to pull herself up against the underside of the table were more exciting than my memories of the diver. Suzanne, standing at the end of the table, put her thumbs up against the insertion of my gluts into my pelvis and kneaded and pressed like she was forcing the final measure of toothpaste out the bottom of the tube. I never knew dental hygiene could be so fulfilling.

We all three did some heavy breathing and stretching, and then Suzanne said "Come on, Lara, lets hide in the bed. He'll never find us there!" They scampered off toward the bedroom, all of a dozen feet away, giggling crazily. I stretched, waiting long enough to make them wonder if I was actually going to follow them or not. They needn't have worried.

Even if I hadn't known exactly where they were going, I could have found them easily by following the slurping noises. They were in fact under the covers, and locked in a slowly moving 69. I pulled the covers back slowly, and as they were revealed, they got even busier. I just stopped and beheld the beautiful sight. Then Suzanne, who was really getting into going down on Lara, dropped to the foot of the bed and propped Lara's butt up on a small pillow, and then used the two big square pillows that matched the bedspread and normally covered the head of the bed placed under the knees to prop Lara's legs wide apart. She then dove into Lara's crotch like a madwoman, and Lara began growling. I had never seen Suzanne so hungry for pussy.

I didn't take long to contemplate that, though, because my inner teenage boy was fascinated by Lara's amazing chest, now flushed red with excitement, rising and falling with her deep breaths, and adorned with some very large and very erect nipples. The valley between her big breasts now seemed like the perfect place for my dick. It was. Even better than I thought. Happily, Lara looked up and smiled, then looked down and my dick, and smiled again. That's my girl!

I grabbed her teats roughly and wrapped them around my cock, and then fucked the little valley, squeezing her nipples hard between my little finger and third finger on each hand. Happy Valley. Heaven Skin. She had a big Suzanne induced orgasm and opened her mouth to gasp at just the right time. Suddenly I was totally relaxed, all over.

But Suzanne was ready for round two, and pretty aggressive about letting us know what she wanted. She pulled one of us to each breast, and we were glad to accommodate her. But it wasn't exactly Madonna and Child time, either. Soon as was on my back, erect, and Suzanne was sliding herself on top of me. Perfect fit. Lara faced Suzanne and sat on my face, and I lost myself in pleasing her, tuning her Suzie up like a piano tuner with a digital meter. Lara and Suzanne were kissing each other passionately, and looked a lot better than any of those 'I kissed a girl' videos that my roommate favored so. My view from underneath them was not ideal from a cinematographic point of view, but it was totally hot.