Not Quite a White Knight Bk. 03 Pt. 02

"Calm down, you said nothing wrong. I just wasn't done when you... well, you were delightful, I assure you. But I wanted more that we could both share and you... were not sharing. Then you were asleep. I wanted to share, and you could not enjoy it, so I decided to finish later, when you can enjoy it. Or not, it is up to you."

She saw it was still a little dark outside so she had plenty of time. I felt her body relax under me. As long as I was not a burden I liked being where I was.

"That would be nice. I talked... I said something about a baby, didn't I." It was a statement, not a question, and it was a subject she felt bad about. With her previous boyfriends the word "baby" was worse than "STD" because they ran from her at the mere thought. So she expected me to do the same.

I read her mind. "As it happens you said 'daughter'. But not to worry, I am not like that. I will do my part whatever happens. Whatever you decide. Let me explain."

First I told her that in this enlightened state there was a law that did not allow a doctor to disclose any medical information about a woman without her permission. She knew that, for her job, she had to make regular trips to the doctor, and they told her bosses everything they found. "This is because your bosses... or enough of them, are motherless bastards, spawned by reptiles and low disgusting things that crawl in the mud and slime. They believe the law does not apply to them. They seek doctors of similar parentage to examine you. So to keep your job you must not get pregnant, for that would scare those you service for a paycheck. I would like you to keep your job for a time, to be honest I want you to spy on the other lawyers for me."

"So you don't want me to get pregnant from you?"

"I did not say that. For a time, you can serve me only if you follow the rules. But there is a secret... I will not work there forever. My exit will not be next week, but it won't take five years either. My grandfathers have other plans, family plans, that must remain secret for now. Imagine that I will take over the family business. But before I leave the firm, I will offer you an alternative. When that happens the choice will be yours. I do not intend to stop what I am doing to delight myself with your wonderful body. If you choose to miss a medical application then, I will not mind. The choice you make will be yours. Do you understand?"

"I think so. Most men are not so generous."

"Well, let us be honest here... I'm greedy, as you know. Most men do not have as many women that they pleasure as I will... that is part of it. Like royalty - like Prince Charles - I was conceived so I could make babies with the women my grandfathers select, that is a given. So unlike most men, it is not really an 'yes or no' thing with one wife. I will have more than one wife giving me children. However, to compensate for not having a choice of breeding partners, I will also consider myself free to enjoy other women, it is the way LA lawyers are. I think you may want to be part of that, am I right?"

"Yes please!" I could see her mood had brightened.

"My... call them my harem members for now... will have the choice, to give me children or not. As they wish. I will love them either way."

"That sounds quite wonderful."

"Well, don't tell anybody, it would ruin my reputation as a lawyer, our union has standards your know. But I must be a wonderful guy."

Damn, she had a wonderful giggle.

-

I knew she wanted to be home for her child by 11 in the morning at the latest. When she started to get antsy at about 9 I knew she was debating between her need to hold her child and her desire for my cock again. I was okay with her making either decision. That was when she asked about the bachelor party she was going to do in South America. Obviously the sing-along part would not be there. There would be fewer women to handle more men, plus everybody would expect a public aspect for the sex that took place. Her recent imagining colored her thinking. Would her self-designation of "my slut" change the planned program?

I did say that the party would be very different. This was a unique group in a unique setting. In terms of the guys she might service, I said that she could think of tonight's group as a team of elite soldiers at a party thrown by their past leader Tango and their future leader Irene. But for South America, it might help if she imagined a group of modern cowboys, attending a party where the older ranch owner might not be in attendance. Tango had grown up with the cowboys as his family and neighbors, before he went into the military.

While Resha was turned on watching tonight's party, she admitted that this morning she was really turned on by the idea of "doing her slut thing" at a glory hole. The girls performing tonight had really opened her eyes about sex as a performance. Since she could not control her audience, she was left with making sure she pleased herself with her performance.

Of course, she did not actually see any sex tonight. She just knew it took place in private. In South America all would see some sex, and there could be multiples.

"This doesn't apply to you and Samantha..." Resha said. "But blowing lawyers in their office is a performance, just not a very varied one... plus out of sheer cussedness lawyers keep their enjoyment under wraps. You know, a girl likes it when the guy she is servicing, whether at a fast food place or on her knees in his office, seems to appreciate it. I know, some folks like Judge Stern and the late Mr. Everson really feel conflicted about smiling at service girls in the office. Having us servicing them in the office is the norm, so they accept it. Plus it feels good. But some of the other stuffed shirts you work with are on this constant ego trip with the girls. They could lighten up a bit."

I wasn't going to argue with her. Part of it was that the lawyers hammered their brains at work, it was really boring and it always required mental alertness, there was zero time to just 'coast' like law school. The 15 minutes relaxing with a naked girl was more an essential break in mental activity. Plus, it was only 15 minutes, and while it was going on the thought of getting back to brain hammering again for another 4 hours was on their minds. In every other law office the guys thought of chasing strange pussy all the time and actually engaged in chasing an average of two to four hours a day (married or not) - that was lost production time - with less success and more complications. But the bottom line was, my colleagues really could not see the girls in a "let's be friends" way, not even superficially.

I mentioned that the guys were not even friends with each other. "If we did not have the monthly socials, I would have no idea what some folks looked like." She was surprised to realize it, but she had never looked at it that way. But in fact, we worked in the same building, but we met only people above or below us. Partners were different, they had partnership meetings. But the greater number of lawyers were associates who had no contact with other associates or most partners.

I did point out that if she did the "glory hole" like she planned, she really could not make a good connection with anybody she was servicing. That was, in fact, her motivation behind the wall. But as she saw tonight, connection was not always a bad thing. She agreed to keep that in mind. She really could not see herself getting naked with more guys in a setting where they came to the party expecting sexual service from her. Her experience was that guys could not keep their hands to themselves. But with a wall acting as a barrier, she could not expect to connect either. She would keep thinking about it. In any event, she now had a more positive idea about the trip.

She also expressed a fear that, if she was naked and exposed, things might go too far. But on the other hand, if she just wore panties or bikini bottoms or whatever, it might be a mood killer. In that case the glory hole wall kept it sexy while protecting her.

I said that, in LA, what she said made sense. But in the colony the men were well-behaved so she had nothing to fear. "It is a family gathering, and you are the guest of the head of the family. I will be there for a time, so everybody will be on their best behavior. Plus there will be options, Frida will be watching and Estella will pull a train, doing everybody."

That made her feel better.

Then I had one other idea. "You know, when a cock comes through that hole, it does not have to enter a mouth. Glory holes are sometimes used for other holes." I described a story where a woman actually attended, by accident, a bachelor party. As a gift to her guy she was secured in a gift box that was designed with three holes, positioned for her, the man could choose. It was supposed to be a gift for just her future husband, but sometimes timing is everything. She heard it all as guys used the box, and knew it when her father and the groom's father decided to "use the box" together. Also, there were stories about regular glory holes in adult bookstores where the 'service provider' (male or female) made their own choice of what they provided for the service. Both ideas got her thinking.

-

After that talk Resha felt better about us in the long term. In fact, she felt so much better about me that I did not realize she had not only crossed the Rubicon, she had marched her legion into Rome. I had scored my goal. In time I would figure it out.

In any event, she gave way to her feelings. No further foreplay was needed, we were ready to put me into her body for more mutual fun times. We both made the small adjustment to our positions and I slid my cock into her very well lubricated eager pussy. We had moved to the missionary position, and she was very greedy about taking my kisses, more than any time I could recall.

Also, Resha's mood while we had sex was a little more ardent and needy than usual. She was sincerely more eager for emotional contact, her natural interpersonal barriers which usually put up a final barrier were gone. Not that we were hurried or more physical than usual, the actual movements were actually kind of relaxed. But as my cock slid in and out of her made-for-sex body, and as I leaned down to kiss her like a lover, I saw her sincere satisfaction in the pleasure she took.

Emotionally, sex with Resha has always felt a little bit distant or guarded. I thought of it as an emotional condom, but maybe calling it "scar tissue" based on past injuries is a bit closer to the truth. It was not a question of enjoyment, because she had enjoyed the times she spent with me. It was more a case where she had been open with somebody in the past, but at the cost a great deal of pain for her and her child. Since then she kept a last doorway in her heart closed.

That morning, for the first time with me, I felt that last barrier was gone. In the back of my mind I knew part of it was because I was receptive to children. With the assurance that she could be a mother again, she was actively being open and willing to my desires for her body, and fitting them to herself. The revelation for her was that she wanted more children, and I told her it could happen without the intermediate stage to becoming a 'single woman with child, unemployed.' It was not love, but it was an openness I found very attractive.

I knew that, by talking about future children, she was also more confident about her current child, that I would accept the child in the future without any stigma. I realized that she had been careful about limiting my contact with the baby up to this point.

What I did not realize was that she had accepted the idea that I could love her as a slut. Every other man she knew had been a jealous lover, who rejected her if she even looked at another man. I had given her permission to pull a train at a gang-bang and said I would accept her after. That blew a few circuits in her brain. Suddenly, I was the only man in her world, all the rest were merely disembodied cocks, personal sex toys, to be used by my slut. What in the whole world could be better for her? If I loved other females, there would still be room for her in my bed, and that was all she needed.

Part of me picked up on her open acceptance, her new mood. It changed my mood, if she was going to be a slut then I was going to be a bit more selfish. As my cock stroked in her I lifted my torso up and told her to play with herself again. "Show me you want it... you need it. As long as nobody else is here I want to feel you come on my cock again, but by yourself first. You must know, it is very attractive."

I saw her eyes got large, I guess I hit a nerve. One hand shot down to her crotch where she boldly started to frig her clit as I watched and moved in her body. With her other hand she went farther, she grabbed one of her nipples, twisting and squeezing it using her fingernail in a way that looked sincerely painful. I kept stroking at a steady rate while her hands were erratic; I was a drumbeat on her twat and she quickly became a wailing jazz saxophone on my cock as the excitement grew.

Since she was open to pleasure with pain I added something, I took hold of her other nipple with my teeth, putting a bit of a real bite while my tongue lashed across the tip of her nipple.

She was surprised, and suddenly a lot more excited. Her moan, in the register of a bengal tiger, filled the room. Her pussy juices suddenly gushed forth.

I spent a good half hour in her body, kissing and loving on her while she added to her own pleasure. With all we had done, fatigue and a lack of energy reserves were an issue at the end. I also was pretty much out of cum for her. To get that far she kept her own climax at bay. But we were so comfortable, and so "loving" instead of "lusting," that we both agreed that we did not need to finish. This was her first time for that, it is special for a slut like Resha to know a guy likes her without the final "feel good." That is not usually a level of comfort I can achieve with a woman, but with Resha we both saw the sense of it.

After we got dressed I walked her home. She got there a bit earlier than expected but plainly, she was very happy to see her child. I made arrangements that might lead to regular video chat to the colony.

As I made my way home I knew that I owned Resha's body, there was no question. Now, after this party, I was a step (several steps, actually) closer to owning her soul. It was a good night's work.

Less than a week later we caught the red-eye to Peru where she would make a lot of friends.

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