The House Guest Ch. 02

Chapter Two: Web Cam

(Note: Originally, this Chapter was to be called "This is SO much more than just wrong. Ignore that; you haven't missed a chapter.)

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

I didn't hear Vic's question and only realized he was there when he rapped a fist on my desk.

I quickly clicked the mouse button, minimizing the muted video playing before me. With the guilty tone of a caught man, I asked, "What? What's wrong?"

"Everything, apparently."

I checked the hall outside my office for other co-workers but saw none. Vic caught the gesture and must have sensed this was something I didn't want anyone but my good friend knowing, if even him. He went to the door and closed it, then sat in the chair across from my desk and asked, "What the fuck?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "What?"

"You were an hour late for work. You blew off the staff meeting, which DIDN'T go unnoticed, by the way. And for most of the past three hours you've been staring at your computer screen, but none of the reports that you are SUPPOSED to be routing to me for review are getting to me."

He looked back to the hallway again, then said a bit quieter, "That means that either my duties have been shifted to someone else, which would mean they're gonna fire me, WHICH would be JUST fine with me because I have a hell of a severance package waiting with my last paycheck. Or..."

He waited for me to fill in the next sentence. I honestly had no idea of how to respond. Vic was my good friend, and I trusted that anything I told him would stay between the two of us. But ... this was just mind blowing. What had happened this morning, and what Ally had offered me for a later date, were simply life changing events. And I had never once in my life had a LIFE CHANGING EVENT occur to me.

"It's nothing. Really."

"Greg, c'mon. I'm your friend. Is it trouble with Lori? You and the Missus not jiving anymore, 'cause it happens."

"No. It's not that. Really, it's nothing I want to talk about."

"Beth's messing around with the wrong boys...? Do you want me to go knock some heads?" He punched a fist into an open palm as he bared his teeth in a comically fierce expression.

"Really, Vic. It's ... personal."

He stared at me for a moment, then said with a sincere tone, "Greg, c'mon. I'm your friend. If I can't help you with your problems, what good am I? You helped me with that chick in Receiving, remember. And my car. Hell, you made a payment for me so I wouldn't lose it to the bank."

Vic was right. I'd been there anytime he'd needed me, and -- due to my until-this-morning unusually ordinary life -- he'd never had to bail me out of a situation or give me advice ... or make a three thousand dollar car payment that had only been half paid back, I suddenly remembered.

But this? Could I share this with Vic. Why not? I mean, it was just a blow job. Maybe I was blowing it out of proportion. I mean, men cheated on their wives all the time; women cheated on their husbands all the time. Hell, I knew a woman in the office with a husband and a girl friend, and she was cheating on BOTH of them with the married couple who owned the coffee shop down stairs!

"My teenage daughter's sleep over friend deep-throated me this morning," I was saying almost before I knew it, "and now she wants me to watch her have sex with her girlfriend."

For a long moment, Vic just stared at me. Suddenly, he erupted in raucous laughter, slapping the desk so hard that my pencil jar leaped and almost fell over.

I looked to the hall again and found several of what Vic called the 'slaves' looking up from their monitors or thick files. I felt my face flush with red and smiled, giving them a dismissive 'all's fine' wave that sent them, one at a time, back to their work.

"Oh ... my ... god!" he managed between continuing laughs. "That's a good one, Greggy. I mean it. If you ever wanted something that would tell me 'I don't wanna talk about it', that was the one."

He continued laughing for a long moment, tears beginning to trail down his cheeks. His laughter began to fade as he realized that I was not laughing with him. He checked the door and then leaned over my desk closer to me and asked with total shock, "You're kidding right? Pulling me leg? This ... this didn't really happen ... did it?"

Again, I checked my co-workers, finding them all absorbed with their own work, then gestured him around to my side of the desk. He didn't waste time, turning and scooting the rolling chair around until it collided with mine. I handed him a Blue Tooth head set, turned the volume back on, and clicked the video icon.

"Oh, god," he murmured. "Oh my fucking god."

Ally's image was frozen on the computer, staring directly into the camera she'd used to record the video. She was in a deep, thick cushioned chair, naked with her hands in her crotch.

"Is that her?"

I answered him by clicking replay, then scooting my chair away to let him move directly in front of the monitor. "I'm going to go refill my coffee cup. I'll ... ACCIDENTALLY lock the door behind me."

I don't think Vic even heard me, not because he had the headset on but because his full attention was on Ally. I exited my office, clicking the lock behind me and casually closing the door behind me. I chatted for a moment with my Assistant, telling her that Vic needed to review a new Corporate Training video in private and asking her to divert my calls to my cell.

I gave one last look to Vic, who was totally entranced and wouldn't have felt a 9 magnitude earthquake, and headed for the Employees Lounge, to try to decide what the hell I was going to do about Ally...

ON THE COMPUTER

Ally's face filled the screen, smiling as she said, "This is for you, Greg. Don't show it to your friends, okay?"

She smiled, then giggled. "No, that's okay. Show it to your friends if you want. Just don't share a copy with anyone, or ... well, you might miss out on bigger and better things in the future, right?"

She stood, revealing that she was wearing only a black lacy bra and a tiny red thong. She stepped back, struck a pose, turned this way and that, then asked, "Like?"

She stepped out of the camera range for a moment, and suddenly the image was shifting all about. It became obvious after a moment that she was moving the laptop that held the web cam. The image finally settled on a big chair, a deeply padded recliner with its share of rips and patches. The camera adjusted once again, centering the chair, before Ally stepped into view again.

"I hope you enjoy this, Greg."

Ally reached to her back and popped the bra loose. It sprung forward, and she let it drop to the floor, revealing those young, firm breasts. She posed a bit more, turning left and right to profile her swollen nipples, then turned her back to the camera and -- teasingly, while looking back to the viewer -- began stripping the thong off her hips, over her round buttocks, and past her thighs. She didn't let the panties fall but instead bent over slowly, guiding them downward. As she did so, the folds of her pussy presented themselves; and as the thong encircled her ankles, her already swollen clit was poking out for me -- or in this case Vic -- to gawk at with a fully hardened cock.

Ally returned to height and turned to the camera again, posing again for her viewer's -- or viewers' -- pleasure. She backed up, sitting in the deep, soft cushions. She kicked the foot rest up and wiggled about until she was comfortable. Then, with her gaze set firmly upon the camera, as if performing live for a lover, she started the show.

Ally caressed her hands slowly all over her body, groping her breasts, pinching her nipples, and playing her fingers over the little trimmed patch of red at the meeting of her still closed thighs.

"Are you hot, Greg?" she purred, beginning to slip her long fingers in between her thighs. She smiled devilishly. She chuckled, asking, "You aren't done already, are you?"

She lifted the soles of her feet to the foot rest and let her legs fall open., revealing her pussy. It was simply beautiful, glistening wet folds of pink, with an almost red, greatly swollen clit peeping out at the top, eager to be touched.

Ally began playing the fingertips of one hand over her clit, moving it left and right, up and down, while the other hand reached for a remote and zoomed in the camera. The lap top had been positioned perfectly -- I suspected this wasn't Ally's first turn at this -- so when she'd finished zooming in, the shot of her pussy was as close and clear as if the viewer was sitting between her thighs, waiting to get a taste of her.

There was another tattoo here, on Ally's inner thigh just an inch from her wetness, of a cartoonish-looking, female devil. Just as Ally was now, the devil was masturbating, a fairly realistic look of joy in her face. And just as with the tat' of the bunnies fucking on her breast, there were little curvy lines indicating rapid motion of the devil's hands and reacting body.

With the fingers of one hand, she was parting her glistening labia, and with the fingers of the other, she was rapidly manipulating her clit in a rapid circle, occasionally dipping them into her pussy to wet them.

One of her hands disappeared for a moment, and a moment later the camera zoomed back out until she was again visible from head to toe. She repositioned herself a bit, to ensure her pussy and the work there was very visible, then returned both hands to pleasuring herself.

Her touch was beginning to affect her, obviously. Her chest was beginning to rise and fall with deepening sighs; her tongue flashed out often to wet her drying lips, while other times her teeth bit down on her bottom lip; and her hips were beginning to rock up and down to meet the now-repetitious, circling manipulations of her sensitive clit.

"My god ... Greg ..." she murmured. "My god..."

She moaned deeply several times, her head beginning to rock about; she was trying to keep her gaze on the laptop -- to see herself and to 'see' the viewer -- but the sensations beginning to invade her entire being were beginning to take control from her.

"I should have ... fucked you," she said, the excitement making it hard for her to speak. "Oh god...! I should have ... fucked you."

Ally's entire body was reacting to the pleasure her finger tips were giving that little button of flesh. The recliner was squeaking like an old Ford on a pot hole filled road, and her moans and groans were becoming cries that were getting louder, quicker, and sharper.

As her orgasm approached, her feet pressed hard against the foot rest, lifting her buttocks into the air. Her hips shifted up and down dramatically, causing the old chair's metal springs to squeal and squeak as if they were about to come apart.

"MY GOD ... GREG!" she practically screamed. "FUCK ME!"

Suddenly, her body stiffened and the sounds coming from both her and the chair both ceased almost simultaneously. The rapid motion at her clit ceased, and her back arched even more, causing her raised groin to almost block the camera's view of her face. Her head was lulled to one side, with her mouth wide open as if in the shock of a person thrown into a cold swimming pool.

The orgasm exploded through her, seizing control of her. Her entire body began to tremble, and the chair below her sounded like it to was in seizures as the metal springing gave off little sharp squeaks that came so fast they couldn't have been counted aloud.

Suddenly, she shouted, "FUCK!" and fell into the chair. She quickly returned to waggling her clit rapidly, trying to extend her climax. She looked like she was in an aerobics class, with her back arching and head falling back, then hunching forward to look down at her pussy -- and sometimes the camera -- to get an eyeful of what was happening down below.

She cried out again and again as the pleasure waved through her body repeatedly. Finally, she sunk the finger tips of one hand into her pussy and the pressed the finger tips of the other over her pussy and relaxed back into the chair, enjoying the euphoria that had enveloped her.

Ally laid there in the chair for a minute or two, sometimes with eyes closed and a satisfied look on her face, sometimes looking into the camera and trying to manage that devilish smile she'd worn at the beginning of the video.

Finally, she struggled up outright, let the foot rest down, and moved so close to the camera that her face filled the screen. Still panting deeply, she whispered, "If this is Greg, I'll see you tonight ... with my girlfriend. If this isn't Greg--" She smiled broadly, then blew a kiss. "Don't you wish?"

She pulled back, and the image faded to black as Ally closed the lap top.

Vic sat back in his chair, realized that I was standing just inside the office door watching him, and gave a shocked laugh. "Oh my fucking god!"

I gestured his quiet and tapped my cheek near my ear, reminding him of the headset that was partially muting his hearing.

He pulled the device off and tossed it onto the desk, sitting back in his chair to stair at the ceiling for a moment. Then, with a knowing smile on his face, he looked directly at me and said, "You WILL meet with this girl again. You WILL watch her have sex with her girlfriend. And you WILL try to fuck her."

I hesitated, then smiled. Quietly -- knowing that I was close to the door and more easily heard by those on the outside -- I said, "Yeah. I guess that's the right thing to do, isn't it?"