The Bullpen Ch. 04

On the other end of the phone line, her boyfriend huffed to himself.

"No, it's a good thing, Tom," Erica continued, desperately. "You can come in, and see me. And visit me. Tom, I need you."

"Look, Erica…"

"I need you, Tom. I know you're mad. I know that I lied to you. I know that this whole thing, these past three weeks, has been dishonest. I know…I know…that maybe you're upset with me, Tom, but I need you."

"Erica, listen…"

"Tom, the deuterotone, it's got me all out of whack," she sobbed. She had lost it, and was now crying to her boyfriend. "My whole body is swimming with these false hormones, my head is messed up with the stuff. I need you, Tom."

"Wait, Erica…"

"Tom, I have dreams about you. Fantasies about you, really. I don't know that I can make it without you touching me, without you doing the things to me that I dream about."

"Erica…"

"I need you come down here, Tom. I need you to fuck me. I need you, Tom. I need you inside me. I need you on top of me. Just come down. You can be mad at me, you can not talk to me again, but I need you to fuck me. Please, please, please, Tom – please, please fuck me."

She was begging for him, imploring him to put her out of her misery. Crying, she had lost any shred of constraint that she had left, and just wanted his dick inside of her. She didn't care if he was mad, or if he never wanted to speak to her again, so long as he came down that night, and fucked her until she passed out.

But, through her sobs, on the far end of the line, came a woman's voice.

"Tom!" the woman called. "The Chinese food is here!"

On both ends of the phone, there was a pregnant silence. Wendy, aghast at what she had just heard, clapped her hand to her open mouth by the ops desk.

"Erica – "

"No, Tom, I get it." She did, too. Suddenly, she understood why he'd been calling less. She understood why their few conversations over the past few weeks had seemed so forced.

"I'm sorry, Erica," Tom said quietly.

Erica had felt so guilty before the phone call. She had, after all, been lying to Tom for the better part of a month. She had exposed herself to her colleagues without telling him that she was doing so, without telling him why she was doing so. She had masturbated, over and over and over again, in front of an audience, without Tom's knowledge. She had betrayed their relationship, and her conscience had not let her forget that betrayal.

Tom, meanwhile, had been betraying her, as well.

"Tom!" The woman's voice called out again. Erica guessed that she was down the stairs, at the front door, calling up to Tom in the bedroom. They had been in bed together at seven in the evening, and Erica doubted that it had been for a quick nap. The girl, whoever she was, had gone to the door to pay the delivery guy for their Chinese food, their dinner, and then Erica had called.

"Heather? From the firm?" Erica guessed.

"Erica – "

"Rachel? Your sister's friend?"

"Erica – "

Suddenly, Erica placed the voice. They'd met just once, at one of Tom's friend's weddings. Tom had introduced his friend Chris to Chris's bride-to-be – who herself had been college roommates with Tom's ex-girlfriend, Sarah. She was tall, with long, blonde hair and a figure that would make even a Playboy Bunny envious. She had thick, pouty lips, and a smile that seemed to hint at mischief. More than anything, Erica had fixated on the girl's eyes, which seemed at once both lazy and tired, constantly suggesting that she had just rolled out of bed after a quick romp. Sarah. Sarah Sumpter.

"Sarah?"

Tom's hesitation answered the question for itself.

In the background, Erica could hear Tom's ex-girlfriend ascending the stairs. "Was that her?" Sarah asked, referring to the phone call that she had, apparently, assumed Tom was done with.

"Hold on," Tom said, directing the comment at Erica.

She had stopped crying, but her cheeks were still wet. Wiping her face with the back of her wrist, Erica wondered why she wasn't quite as angry as she should have been. She wasn't as upset at Tom as she imagined she was supposed to be. Instead, what hurt the most, what bothered her more than anything, was the notion that Tom wasn't going to come down to ConnPharm that night. He wasn't going to unzip his fly and give her the fucking that she wanted.

Obviously, Tom was attempting to muffle the receiver on his end, but he did so poorly, allowing both Erica and eavesdropping Wendy Milne to hear every word of the exchange between he and Sarah Sumpter.

"I'm still on with her," he whispered.

"Shit!" Sarah responded, in a similarly hushed tone. "Did she hear me?"

"Yes. Let me just talk to her for a few minutes."

"Okay," Sarah whispered, before tiptoeing back down the stairs of Tom's condo.

With a deep breath, Tom began, "Erica, I'm so, so, so –"

The naked girl cut him off. "Tom, don't."

"But –"

"Don't." She had lied to him, he had lied to her. He had cheated on her, and – in a way – Erica had cheated on him. They were over, she knew, but it wasn't completely his fault, and it wasn't completely hers. He was sleeping with an ex, which she hadn't done. But she had, however, masturbated in front of countless men, and even gotten herself off in the lap of Dick Abbott. It seemed wrong for her to be indignant over Tom's affair, given her own behavior over the past twenty days.

But even if they were through, even if it was over between them, Erica still needed Tom. Or, rather, she needed his cock.

"Tom, I understand. It's fine. It's over, but it's fine." She equivocated for a second, before going on. "But I still need you to come here. I still need you to fuck me. Leave her there, just for an hour or so, and come end what we had with one last fuck."

Tom wasn't sure what to say.

"Please, Tom. My hormones are all out of sort, and I'm not even sure that it's the deuterotone. I don't know if it's something more deep-seated, but I need to be fucked…I NEED it."

"I can't," he replied. He was able to cheat on Erica with Sarah, but was apparently unable to cheat on Sarah with Erica.

"Tom, no! Tom, please!"

"Erica, we can talk things over at some other point. When you're back from Arizona or Avon or wherever you are. This is a bad time for me, and it seems like this might be a bad time for you."

"No, Tom! Tom, I need to be fucked so badly!" The tears started up again, not because he was moving on, but because she wouldn't be able to use him for his penis. "Tom, I'll let you do whatever you want. You can fuck my asshole, Tom."

"Erica, no, I need to go."

"Tom, Tom, Tom! Just eat me out, Tom, please please please! Don't go!"

"Erica…"

"Just eat me out! Just do that!"

"Goodbye, Erica. I'm sorry."

The phone line went dead, the connection closed, and Tom gone for good.

Had she lost the last shred of her dignity? Had she officially gone too far? Had she really just begged her boyfriend, who had apparently been cheating on her, just to come down to ConnPharm to eat her out? Had she really become that desperate?

"Erica?"

It was Wendy, from the ops desk. The technician, despite her sometimes unthinking approach to handling Erica, was worried about the naked girl, crying to herself inside the Bullpen. She had, of course, heard the entire conversation – Erica had absolutely no privacy of any kind. And, at that moment, she thought that Erica needed a friend to talk to.

But what Erica needed, as she had admitted to her now ex-boyfriend, was something deeper.

"I don't really want to talk about it, if that's what you're offering," the dark-haired girl replied.

"Are you sure? That was pretty rough."

Erica wiped the last of her tears from her cheek. "No. He's moved on. I've got to move on, too."

"But, Erica, it JUST happened. I mean, this is someone you've been with for…well, for a while."

As if a thought had just occurred to Erica, she observed, "To be honest, Wendy, I guess I had already moved on sometime here in the Bullpen. Maybe before that. Seriously, why didn't I tell him about the experiment?"

"You were embarrassed, Erica. It's understandable."

"I don't know. You'd think that, if we had any sort of real intimacy, I would have told him."

"Well, that's what you were trying to do now," Wendy observed. She was confused by Erica's seeming indifference to the end of her relationship. Even Wendy, for all her outward toughness and her cynical nature, would have felt more down than Erica appeared to be.

"Only because I wanted something from him," Erica answered, leaving it at that. Both girls knew what Erica had wanted from Tom, as she had called and begged for it just a few seconds earlier. "Now, seriously, I don't want to talk about it any more."

"Erica…"

"Can you let me out of here for a few minutes?" Erica asked, getting up, and walking towards the Bullpen's door. "I need to…I don't know…clear my head."

"Sure," the girl replied. She grabbed the corset from its hook, and got up to meet Erica by the door sliding open into the Observation Room.

Though Erica's eyes still looked a bit puffy, her jaw was clenched strongly, and she appeared to be determined about something, whatever it was. Wendy didn't think much of it, however, as she fastened the clasps together on Erica's back. Maybe Erica was just going to use one of the vibrators again. Maybe she wanted to get on one of the pieces of exercise equipment and work her aggression out. Maybe she just needed a change of scenery, a break from the clinically white little room that she spent the better part of her day in.

With the corset on, Erica went straight to her cubby on the far side of the Observation Room. Her panties still hung, on display, in the locker itself, but Erica did nothing to hide them, nothing to tuck them away. Instead, she lifted up her skirt, where her toys had been hidden for so many days, and extracted her purse.

Wendy, confused, but content to leave Erica alone, returned to the ops desk. She needed to make sure that the corset was, in fact, transmitting all the information that it needed to be back to the mainframe. Though the sensor-equipped article of lingerie collected a large portion of the information the Bullpen did, it didn't collect it all. Typically, Erica's sojourns out into the Observation Room were for functional purposes only – she needed to eat, she needed to exercise, she needed to shave. Tonight, though, it was for no other purpose than her own emotional need, and Wendy wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong during the mostly unnecessary walkabout.

On Friday morning, awaking to a pussy just as wet as it had been the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that, Erica had sent Aaron to fetch her purse, locked away inside her desk in the Human Hormones Lab. She made an excuse, explaining that she just wanted to see Tom's picture, and that she had such a picture in her wallet. She didn't, and she didn't.

She wanted, more than anything, to be fucked. But with that reality contingent upon confessing her sins to Tom, Erica was willing to settle for a bit of cunnilingus. And, as of Wednesday evening, there had been an offer on the table - it would simply cost her two hundred dollars.

Her lab assistant, of course, had not hung around to see that his boss was lying to him about Tom's picture. She had tucked the purse into her cubby, unclear if she was really going to take Wendy up on her proposal. She wanted to, badly, and even went so far as to write out a check on Saturday at lunch. That was, though, before she vibrated her way to a temporary respite from her omnipresent lust. She wouldn't dip to that level of depravity. She wouldn't cheat on Tom.

Wendy was vaguely aware of Erica's presence alongside the ops desk, but she didn't look up from the diagnostic screen in front of her until a single slip of paper intruded upon her field of vision. Dated the day before, with the signature of Erica D. Rivers scrawled out on the bottom, was a check for two hundred dollars.

There wasn't any conversation between them. They both knew what the money was for - they both knew what Wendy had promised Erica in exchange for it. Wendy wasn't quite sure if she should go ahead with what she had promised, given Erica's current emotional state. But whether or not Erica was thinking clearly - whether her thinking was crowded by deuterotone, or grief, or both – Wendy still needed to pay off her car loan. The peroxide blonde just nodded, leaving the dark-haired, half-clothed girl to push past her towards the edge of the ops desk itself.

Lifting herself off the floor, Erica set her body back down on the desk. Her bare ass touched the cold metal, and she leaned backwards against the monitors so that she could wrap her arms behind the desk. She was nervous about what was going to transpire, but she left questions of morals, sexual preference, and technique for later – she just wanted Wendy to eat her out, pure and simple.

The technician was wearing a low-cut red tank top, and the top of her bra cups came just a bit further up her breasts than the cups of the top. The look was trashy, but unquestioningly erotic. She folded Erica's check in two, and, in keeping with her fantasy of cash stuffed down the back of Erica's panties, tucked it neatly into her bra. The girl pushed her rolling chair away from her, dropping to her knees in front of Erica, and slowly pushed the other girl's legs apart.

The smell of wet pussy was overwhelming, to Erica and Wendy both. Erica worried that she was too turned on, that she was already too close to orgasm, that it would be over and done with before she was able to truly savor the feeling of someone else making her cum. For two hundred dollars, she hoped that Wendy would be worth the price.

The technician didn't let Erica down. She pushed Erica's legs further and further apart, until they were each bent at the knee and her arches were resting on the edge of the desk three feet apart from one another. Slowly, teasingly, Wendy kissed Erica's left inner thigh, working her way from the knee inwards. She used her lips, her tongue, and her warm breath to send shivers up Erica's spine. By the time she had reached the bare skin between the base of Erica's leg and the edge of Erica's slit, the dark-haired girl was bucking upwards and outwards.

Only to be left in waiting.

Sighing in aggravation, Erica watched helplessly as Wendy backed away. Instead of immediately attacking the girl's waiting pussy, the technician instead began the journey once again – this time from the inside of Erica's right thigh. She again kissed, licked, and teased her way back to the warm folds of the scientist's crotch, and again left Erica wanting more. Wendy breathed deeply against Erica's sex, but offered no physical contact for Erica to grind against. Instead, she teased her by flicking her tongue out quickly, touching the dark-haired girl's puffy pink lips, and then retracted it quickly back into her mouth.

"Oh, please," Erica begged. "Please."

Wendy's nose brushed against the top of Erica's pussy, lightly and gently drawing even more life into the already erect clitoris that had emerged from its folds. Warm breath touched against it, but nothing more, as Wendy's face moved upward and away from the dark haired girl's crotch. Her nose ran through Erica's short pubic hair, and against the rough fabric of the electronic corset, and up between Erica's continually growing breasts.

"Please," Erica said. "Just…please, lick me."

Wendy ignored the pleas. Her lips, wet with saliva, kissed the skin between Eric's breasts, and then parted way for her tongue. She licked Erica's bare skin, running up the center of the girl's chest, up her perfect neck, and against the underside of her chin. Upon reaching this destination, Wendy bit down playfully, juicily, and allowed her right hand to pinch at Erica's left nipple.

Erica squealed. "Oh, god," she exhaled.

With her left hand, Wendy ran her fingers through Erica's dark pubic hair – what little was left, at least. The slight triangle that Erica had started with had become more and more narrow over the past few weeks, until, at that moment, it was little more than a single stripe pointing in the direction of Erica's cunt. Erica wasn't entirely sure what was pushing her to do so, but at that moment, she wished that she had shaved it completely off – leaving Wendy with nothing to play with on her way to Erica's clit.

Leaning forward, Erica pulled her right hand from the ops desk and ran it through Wendy's faux blonde hair. She grasped the back of the technician's skull, pulled her whole face to her mouth, and their lips met. Hungrily, she kissed the girl, never once considering that this was her first Sapphic experience. Wendy's lips were soft, they were gentle, they were moist – nothing like Tom's chapped lips. She wasn't scraped and brushed by Tom's rough whiskers, but instead felt nothing but Wendy's soft skin. As their tongue met, as their lips crushed against one another, Wendy continued to tease Erica's nipple, pinching and squeezing with enough force to cause the girl to moan in an erotic mixture of pleasure and pain.

The fingers of Wendy's left hand parted – two to one side of Erica's waiting cunt, two to the other. The technician rubbed up and down, never once touching Erica's clit, or her labia, and teasing the girl until she was bucking up against the fabric of Wendy's long, cotton skirt. And, just at the point where Erica wasn't sure she could take any more teasing without real contact, Wendy ran her middle finger up between the folds of Erica's pussy, front to back.

Erica sighed deeply, breaking the kiss between the two women. A strand of saliva hung between then. She appreciated the technique that Wendy was bringing to her assignment, the expertise that she was using to stimulate her, but she needed none of it. Erica had awoken that morning, like every morning before it since getting her first shot of deuterotone, wet and aroused. She would go to bed that night, like every night over the past few weeks, still wet and aroused. Arousal was constant, a way of life for Erica Rivers, and she needed none of Wendy's sexual teasing to get her moist.

"Okay," Erica gasped, gently pushing Wendy's head down towards her waiting pussy. "Please, I need you to get me off."

Wendy decided to engage Erica's penchant for talking dirty. For two hundred dollars, Wendy was willing to let Erica do whatever she pleased. "You want me to lick your pussy?"

"Yesss," Erica hissed. "Eat me out."

There was no more hesitation on the part of the peroxide blonde. With Erica's palm on the back of her head, with Erica's fingers running through her hair, she licked up the path that her middle finger had just taken, front to back, until her tongue came down with force against the scientist's clit.

"Shit!" Erica cried out. Her hand clenched up in a fist, grabbing roughly at Wendy's hair. "Fuck…"

It hurt, having her hair being pulled, but Wendy understood the physical pleasure that the girl was having. It had been weeks since anyone had even touched her, weeks since anyone had gotten her off. If it had been Wendy, she might have been even rougher, grabbing and biting in passion whomever it was who was eating her out or fucking her. Wendy was used to rough sex – this was nothing.

She licked quickly, her tongue moving rapidly up and down, back and forth, around and around Erica's clit. Her tongue ring, solid metal against tender flesh, provided Erica with a sensation that she had never felt before. The girl was apparently doing her best to control the back and forth movement of her own pussy, but she was proving to be less than successful. She thrust, again and again, against Wendy's face. Her pussy, by this point wet beyond anything Wendy had ever witnessed, ground out against Wendy's chin.