Sex is a Job Description? Ch. 05


Cynthia starting breathing slower and deeper as they progressed, and Tom remained as disconnected and bored from this as he had imagined he would be. Cynthia looked back at him and stopped completely when she saw his expression.

"What now?" Tom asked.

"Take the condom off. Just pull out," she said, disconnecting from him. She flipped over onto her back and spread her legs out for him. He pulled the condom off and remounted her, pushing into her wet core easily. She moaned and bit her bottom lip, grabbing the sheets with balled fists as Tom began to roll his hips against hers.

She responded with a slow rhythm, arching herself against him as he penetrated her body. In Tom's opinion, she wasn't really bad at all, she was just decent. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it, because she did feel good and she was doing it right. She just didn't have that glimmer of passion that he was used to.

Even so, he was propped up on his arms with his hands on the sheets, feeling Cynthia's breath on his neck. Her hands rose to his back and she hugged him to her smaller frame, her breathing starting to intensify as he bucked against her with quickening speed.

It was like he was just going through the motions. He slid in and out of her body, his cockhead tingling with the familiar feeling of a woman around it. Cynthia knew what she was doing, rolling against him in rhythm, matching her breathing with his.

She wrapped her legs around his thighs and slid her hands down to his butt, squeezing him hard as she tensed her entire body for a moment. Tom slowed, but she shook her head and him and pulled him to get him to continue.

"I'm close," she breathed into his ear, causing his skin to rise all over. She was really turned on.

"Seriously?" he whispered back. "It's only been like ten minutes."

"Yeah," replied the cheerleader, pulling him closer as she gasped and her breath caught in her throat. Tom ground their sexes together and put an extra thrust into his motion, pulling back again as she clamped her mouth down on his ear, moaning in pleasure. He pushed into her again and she took a sharp intake of breath. Her arms moved to his shoulders and she forced herself against him with trembling limbs.

Tom waited for her to collect herself and she eventually relaxed a little, lying back on the bed without hugging Tom for dear life. She looked like she was confused, just sitting there with her face innocent and thoughtless.

Tom slowed his breathing and made an effort to keep himself from picking back up from where they left off. It was an extremely rare occasion that his partner came first, and an even rarer one that he got to do it in his own bed. It felt almost a little weird seeing as he hadn't screwed in a bed more than a handful of times.

"That was great," she managed to get out, drawing Tom out of his thoughts.

"I usually only get 'good'," Tom replied, grinning a little.

"Want more?" Cynthia asked, grinding her sex against his.

"Wait, what? Really? You're not tired?" Tom said, almost in disbelief.

Cynthia shook her head. "I feel sorry for the girls that can't do it like me." She roped her arms around his neck and Tom let his disbelief roll away as he started to push and part their bodies again. Cynthia groaned deep in her chest and Tom leaned down to her neck, giving it a little kiss. She wasn't bad, all things considered, save for her attitude. Lean, tanned, and busty, though the latter two he thought might be fake. Nobody had perky tits like hers without plastic being involved.

Still, she was hot, and he couldn't deny that she was better in bed than most normal girls. He kissed his way up her neck to her ear, giving her earlobe a quick little nibble. She gasped and jerked up against him, goosebumps rising all across the right side of her body.

"So why'd you bring your friend here?" Tom asked as he put a hand against the sheets to prop himself up and off her.

"She rides home with me," Cynthia said, moaning as she wrapped her legs around his lower back and arched her back firmly. Tom nodded and adjusted his thrusts into her as they picked up the pace again. It was a little different now that she'd cum. He had never continued after having a woman climax. He'd never been able to.

She felt different somehow, like there was a different motion inside of her when their hips met and parted. He ignored it and kept on pushing into her as deep as he could, relishing the look on her face. Oh, the dumb faces people make during sex. She was still riding her orgasm down just a little, that much was obvious.

She was also a great deal calmer with her jerking hips, not completely, but her thrusts were less wild and the wet slaps their bodies made were at a constant, fast rhythm compared to the racing uneven one before. Cynthia's breath was hot against his chest, the top of her head against the dip in his throat as she hugged him. She was starting to sweat, while Tom was barely even working his heart rate up.

Was this really happening?

Had he been conditioned for a different grade of sex by work? Cynthia's clenched thighs and the high squeals coming up her throat told him that he had been. He continued to bring himself down and against her rhythmically, sliding his right hand up and down her body smoothly. Her skin was slick with tiny droplets of sweat and he could feel her tiring out.

"You still good to go?" he asked as they slowed to a stop.

"Keep going," she replied, panting. Tom shrugged and jerked her hard, receiving a gasp and a moan in pleasure. Her slowed their pace down and thrust hard a deep, allowing her a little reprieve from action. Still, she breathed heavily and by the time her third orgasm rolled around, she was trembling from her toes to her fingertips.

At that point, Tom sat up and took her hands away from his back, holding her slim, fragile-looking body upright as she heaved air in and out of her lungs. She looked like she was about to keel over and faint if she did anything but sit there and stare at him tiredly.

"You're not alright," Tom said as he lifted her off his throbbing cock and laid her down flat on the bed. "Stay here, I'm getting you something to cool yourself down with."

"Hold on," she said, trying to sit up. She trembled at the effort of it and groaned. Tom was already leaving though, and didn't pay any attention to her as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He got a Ziploc bag and filled it with ice. As he turned around to go back upstairs, he found Amanda searching through the drawers in his living room.

"Uh...what are you doing?" he asked, walking over to her as she jumped from being caught totally off guard.

"Holy shit you scared me," she said, letting out a short, scared breath.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked again, this time with more force.

"I'm...looking for uh... TV guide. I don't know what channel American Idol is on," she replied.

Tom frowned. "The TV isn't even on. What are you really doing?"

Amanda hesitated and searched for something to say, but Tom wasn't ready to buy anything she was about to say.


"Okay, maybe you don't understand what lying here means. If you're trying to steal something, you're gonna get in huge trouble. I work for some very powerful people, and stealing from me is like stealing from them. You do not want to do that. So tell me what you're doing or I'm calling the cops."

"Okay," Amanda said, her pupils dilating as her blood pressure shot through the roof in fear. "Cynthia wanted to get blackmail on you. I swear it was her. I just needed a ride home and she wouldn't take me if I didn't do this."

Tom sighed. "Did you find anything? And I'll be checking later if you're lying or not."

"I found that," she said, pointing to Tom's wallet on the kitchen table.

"Anything else?"

"No," she said meekly.

Tom bit his bottom lip and motioned for Amanda to get up. "Go upstairs and put this on Cynthia's forehead." He handed the bag of ice and the girl went upstairs. Tom got his wallet and looked through it. Everything was still in it, but his work ID had clearly been looked at. He sighed and after a minute of deliberation with himself, decided that it was safe enough to let her go without having anyone from work know what had happened.

He didn't want her to get into any unnecessary trouble because Cynthia was a conniving bitch.

Upstairs, Amanda was telling Cynthia what had happened and the latter just sat there with the cool bag on her forehead, eyes closed and breathing heavily and deeply.

"When you can get up, get out of my house. I don't appreciate people being nosy, especially when they can't even get me off," said Tom scathingly, putting on his boxers, flipping the elastic waistband over his hard arousal.

"Go to hell," Cynthia returned, giving Tom a short glare. He just shook his head and leaned against the wall behind him.


Veronica's deft fingers played the keys of her keyboard like a lifetime programmer's. Her eyes followed every new line of text, checking for errors and typos, unblinking and focused. She didn't move, save for the steady rhythm and gentle clicking of her fingers running smoothly across the keys. Text spilled forth onto the document, nearly three hundred words a minute.

She'd started yesterday and been working for hours at a time with breaks between sessions to save, copy, or upload something. Her wrists had started complaining after about six hours. Since then, she'd switched to her Dvorak keyboard and was zipping through document after document, coding and encoding and translating hundreds of lines of text.

So far, her virus was only about seventy percent complete, but it was getting there. It took forever, but coding past the antivirus software Pentagon's paid genius Mark had created was only a challenging process at best. Why they needed antivirus for a private, closed server was beyond her.

Veronica had been working at coding since the Twenties, when bank accounts had become fraud targets. She'd foreseen technological advances encoding bank vaults and account information, but the reality of human ingenuity had overtaken her foresight by leaps and bounds.

Still, her hobby was very useful and her nearly ninety years of experience were paying off nicely. Mark was a genius at coding and programming, but he only had about fourteen algorithms that didn't blend together in a pattern at some point. So, Veronica had been able to figure out his patterns and was busying herself on deconstructing all his efforts to keep intruders out of the system.

She had three weeks to get her virus up and running and install another virus and a worm on Mark's tower to slow down the detection rates the genius was known for. And even with all this, she knew she was going to have to physically distract him from his work to get this to succeed. Her fingers stopped as a chill ran up her spine.

Mark was absolutely the last person she wanted to have sex with, even if it was for a distraction. Gods, he was a self-righteous prick by all means. Condescending, narcissistic as a succubus in a frat house, and a playboy wannabe. From what was said about it, besides what he said, the guy was terrible in bed.

Veronica's fingers resumed their work and-

The demon nearly jumped out of her skin as the doorbell rang. It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer in her chair staring at a computer screen, but on the floor staring at the ceiling instead. She blinked in confusion and then sat up, finding herself still sitting in her overturned office chair. Her keyboard dangled from the desk in front of her, swinging back and forth.

She erased the mistakes and saved the document as the doorbell rang again, accompanied by three knocks. She righted the chair and stood up, brushing pretzel crumbs off her tank top. She made her way to the front door and peered through the peephole.

Tom stood on her doorstep, his car parked on the street in front of her house. He was covered in a dark glaze of water, and it was only then that Veronica realized that it was raining hard outside. Tom stood in the rain and waited patiently, raising his hand to knock again.

Veronica unlocked the door and threw it open.

"What do you want?" she asked gruffly.

"I need your advice. I'll be out of your hair in a second," he said, looking back at his car.

Veronica groaned. "Hold on, stay here for a second." She went back into the computer room and saved the file again, closing out of everything on her computer and then shutting it down and unplugging it. She took the power cord out of the computer and tossed it into the corner across the room. No way she was getting caught making a virus, even if the chances of Tom looking around her stuff was zero.

She went back to the front door where Tom was still waiting, his clothes soaked all the way through and his short hair gleaming with water. Veronica motioned for him to come inside and he stepped into the foyer, taking off his rain-soaked jacket.

"I uh...where should I put this? You have any towels?" the boy asked.

"Hold on," Veronica said, getting a towel from the laundry room. When she returned, she found Tom trying to wipe some of the water off his arms with his hands. He wrapped his jacket up in the towel and they both went into the small kitchen Veronica had neglected to clean since God-knows-when.

They sat down and the demon gave herself a once-over. She looked like shit to be honest. Her chestnut brown hair was matted and filthy. Her tank top was dirty and still covered in crumbs. Her underwear sure as hell couldn't have been clean either because she couldn't remember changing it in the past three days.

But, after a second of kicking herself in the head mentally for completely ignoring her personal hygiene, she looked back up at Tom and motioned for him to start talking.

"Okay, so there's a girl that likes me, that I don't like, and she won't stop bothering me. How do I get her to stop?" he asked, completely straight-faced.

Veronica was almost in disbelief.

"So you drove all thirty minutes out here, waited in the rain, and sat me get advice on how to get a girl to stop bothering you? Knowing full well that I don't know a damn about human girls?"

Tom shrugged. "Who else am I gonna ask? Greg and Harvey were no help. Everyone else at school thinks its funny, except for this girl's boyfriend, who's already made death threats to me." He still looked completely serious.

"What do you want me to say? You could kill her, but I don't think you want to do you?" Veronica suggested.

Tom gave her a sour look. "If you want to make jokes, then I'll just leave. Thanks for nothing." He scooted his chair back from the table and stood up.

"No, hold on," Veronica interjected. "Okay, tell me what she's doing."

Tom sat back down and sighed. "Fucking everything. She takes every chance at school and everywhere else to talk to me, or try to. I can't tell her to shut up or leave me alone enough times for her to get it. I mean, we only had sex one time and it wasn't even really that good, and now she's absolutely in l-"

"You had sex with her?" asked the demon, genuinely curious and surprised.

"I didn't think she would agree!" Tom explained in his own defense. "She's a typical bimbo blonde cheerleader who can't rub two brain cells together! I made the offer to piss her off and when she came over, what the hell was I supposed to do? Oh, no, I'm not man enough to do this, so you can go home and post all over Facebook about it. I'm already not so liked at school by my teachers. I don't need everyone on my back."

"So you need to make her stop?"

"Yes," Tom replied, looking frustrated, but hopeful.

Veronica thought it over for a moment, and then came up with something. "If she wants you for the sex, then give her bad sex. That should get her to stop."

Tom gave her a flat look. "I am not having sex with her again. Period. And like I said, it wasn't even that good the first time. But she thought it was the most amazing thing on the planet. It's fucking stupid."

"Well then try asking the proper authorities to make her stay away from you."

Tom threw his hands up. "The school won't do anything!" he shouted. "Nobody will. It's fucking gay!"

To the demon, his problem seemed a little trivial, but who was she to judge? She only had to write a virus and get it to block a whole system's worth of security and tracking bugs for more than six minutes. And somehow get Mark to stay away from his servers for more than ten seconds at a time. Yeah, just a little bit trivial.

She sighed. "Calm down for a minute and keep thinking." Tom's stomach growled unceremoniously and Veronica shook her head. "I'll find us something to eat."

She rummaged through her kitchen and decided on some clam chowder and chicken noodle soup for their simplicity and ease in cooking. Once they had their food, they talked on and off about Tom's predicament and some other things going on at work, mostly about Allen from Division Thirteen acting a little strange lately.

About forty minutes passed and Tom decided it was time to go. He put his jacket back on and ran back through the rain to get into his car. Veronica went back into the kitchen and started to actually unload her dish washer so she could load something into it, when the doorbell rang again. Her brow furrowed. Tom hadn't left anything, so was this him or someone else?

A look through the peephole revealed Tom again. She opened the door and he rolled his eyes.

"My car won't start. Just my luck, huh?"

"So what? You wanna stay here?" Veronica asked.

"I need a jump and I'll be good. I have cables."

Veronica took a step out of her doorway and looked up at the hard rain pouring out of the dark grey clouds hanging in the sky above. She gave Tom a look like she was hoping he was kidding.

"I'm not getting anywhere near a battery while it's raining. Electrocution is lethal to demons too."

"Fuck, then can you give me a ride home? I...damn it we have a meeting tomorrow, don't we?"


"Well, shit. Can I use your phone? I need to find a ride tomorrow morning." Tom looked absolutely pathetic right now, soaking wet, unhappy, frustrated. It was enough to make Veronica take a little pity on him now. Poor boy.

"Just stay here tonight and I'll give your car a jump tomorrow morning. You can sleep on the couch." Veronica gauged his reaction somewhere between disbelief and wonder. She let herself crack as grin as he breathed a huge sigh in relief.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Get in and unload my dishwasher. You don't stay for free," the demon said. Tom nodded and went straight into the kitchen. When he started unloading the dishwasher and looking around for the right places to put everything, Veronica could only wonder what his house looked like. Judging by him now, his place must have been spotless. She looked around her living room and rolled her eyes. Cleanliness was overrated, but having a maid was nice every once in a while.

After he unloaded the dishwasher and loaded it up, she found him some clothes that would fit him, well, sort of fit him. The only piece of clothing she had that would fit him was a nightshirt. So, she gave him a towel to dry off with and put all his clothes in the dryer. He shivered in the nightshirt and wrapped himself up in a blanket on the couch.

"Go take a shower," Veronica ordered, pushing Tom to get him moving. "Go, you can use the master bath. It's got a bath and a shower, so take your pick. Your clothes'll be dry when you get out."

Tom nodded and went into the bathroom to shower.

As soon as the water turned on though, Veronica's mind went straight to one thing. She hadn't had sex in over a month, and Tom was undressing to get into the shower at this very moment.

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