by J. Sselxuyt
“Can you get word out about her plans?” I ask, seriously.
“I—maybe. I can’t go to Varun directly, but if I can find someone to pass on the warning, then maybe. The real problem will be getting someone to listen to me.” She suddenly grows hesitant. “I’m in rather bad standing with my kind, but I may still have a few friends that won’t. . . .” she finishes quietly.
Feeling for her pain, I reach out and grip her hands. “What happened to you, Brooke? Why are you in so much trouble with Varun and the other mermaids?”
You’d think I was a dangerous viper the way she pulls back from me.
“If I’m to get that warning out, I’d better start now. Will you take me to the surface so I can get out? Hopefully I won’t be gone long, and I’ll return. But if what you say is true, and I don’t doubt you, then I need to get the warning out as soon as possible.” From hesitation, to can’t get away from me quick enough. Man, am I ever having quite the effect on women today!
I know she’s changing the subject, and while my mind cries out to force the answer from her, my fractured heart speaks more gently. She’ll tell me if and when she’s ready.
For the first time I look out the windshield and notice that we’re not driving on the sea floor, but swimming through it like a submarine. Even this small glance sets my heart pounding, and I feel blackness begin to creep in around my vision. I can almost taste the salty water as it tries to crawl down my throat.
No, dammit! I swear inwardly. I’m safe and sound. This car was built by mythical creatures and can do magical things.
Okay, so maybe that last bit doesn’t help my mundane raised mind much. Glancing at my childhood friend, the mermaid assassin, I feel my resolve strengthen. The feeling of slowly drowning recedes.
Taking hold of the steering wheel, I don’t know what to do or say to make the Orange Bubble surface. Thankfully it reads my thoughts, and I feel us begin to rise. Oh, now it listens to me! Why couldn’t it have done that back in Egypt?
When the car breaches the water, I can see what can only be the Straits of Gibraltar in the distance. How fast are we moving to be here already? I think about how many hours it must have taken my car to drive through the U.S. to the East coast, then across the Atlantic, and know that I’ll likely be home before the next morning. Especially since I’m traveling with the sun.
Brooke doesn’t say anything as she opens her door and jumps into the water. The door closes on its own. All by myself, my thoughts turn back to Angela. Crazy as it seems, it almost feels as if I can feel her presence. Likely because she’s the one that repaired my car.
My mind plays over what Brooke had said about the price Angela must have paid to get the Cyclopes to work on my mundane car as it dives back under the water, and I wait for the mermaid’s return.
And wait.
I turn on the radio, even though I know I can’t pick up any stations, and just listen to the static. I wake up as my car pulls up onto a beach, and my radio comes to life. People stare at the Orange Bubble as it come up on shore. I wonder what they must be thinking, or how it must look to them.
“—playing only the best hits from the nineties and today on this lovely Sunday afternoon.” I turn off the radio, stunned to realize how short a time has passed. Or is it Sunday of the next week?
I have my car stop off at a gas station to grab a bite to eat. Thankfully I find an old gym outfit tucked under the passenger seat. I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten, but the chips and gas station fare tastes wonderful as it goes down my gullet.
The rest of the drive across country is a blur as I let my car have its way. Either no police are along the route, or they don’t notice my car. It’s probably the later, considering how Angela had driven through the city. The drive only takes a couple hours.
As the Orange Bubble pulls up to my apartment complex, two things occur to me. Becky’s car is still parked out front, and Brooke has abandoned me as well.
The lead rock in my chest weighs me down as I head to the elevator.
I stop for only a couple seconds to stare at Brooke’s door. I know I shouldn’t, but I knock anyway and am not surprised when there’s no answer.
I’m greeted very warmly by two pretty women, Becky and Lisa as I enter my apartment.
“What are you two still doing here?” I ask, trying not to sound angry, but my heart hurts too much to sound happy.
“Twice now, you’ve had sex with one or both of us and vanished right after!” Lisa accuses me.
“At least this time you left a note,” Becky chimes in. “You told us to make ourselves at home, so we did.”
In actuality, I’d told them I didn’t know how long I’d be gone and to use whatever they needed from my apartment while I was gone.
“I don’t understand why you always leave so quickly afterwards,” Becky says worriedly.
“Yeah, it’s not like you have a wife or girlfriend to get back to,” Lisa says. “We can tell that just by seeing your apartment.”
I barely even notice that my place is immaculate. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a slob, but I am a single guy.
“He does now,” Becky pipes up, a tremulous smile spreading across her face as she takes one of my hands.
Or was single.
Well, I think, why the hell not. These two seem to want to stick around for the time being, and I really can’t complain about either one. Both are pretty enough, Becky with her short petite body, and Lisa with her more forward attitude and athletic body. Yeah, I could definitely do a lot worse.
Like a succubus and mermaid that would rather abandon me than stay with me when I need their help.
“Absolutely,” I force a smile as I bend down and kiss the brunette softly.
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Chapter 08
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Daily Grind
Something doesn’t seem right. My body is cold, but I know I’m still in bed. And what is that sound? It sounds like. . . . Oh, and this feeling!
Opening my eyes, I hear Lisa giggle and see Becky’s eyes smiling up at me. My cock is securely fastened between the latter’s lips, and Lisa is holding her friend’s long chestnut brown hair back and out of the way.
“Good morning, ladies,” I say with a groggy smile as I quickly begin to get my bearings.
“We thought we’d wake you this way,” Lisa informs me, while Becky goes back to hungrily swallowing my dick. “Hope you don’t mind. Besides, it’s the least we could do after you had those flowers delivered.”
“Not at all,” I tell them pleasantly. “Please don’t let me interrupt you.” Flowers? What flowers?
Lisa laughs as she lets go of her friend’s hair and gets between my legs next to Becky. A moment later, I can feel her tongue licking around my scrotum. The talents of these two women are likely going to have me shooting off shortly.
“If you don’t slow down,” I tell the short brunette, “I’m not going to last long enough to take care of you two.”
“Don’t worry,” Becky’s soft voice says as my prick leaves her throat, “We don’t have enough time for that anyway.” Lisa takes advantage of the free knob, and swallows it between her lips, while her friend’s hand runs up and down my saliva slickened rod. “We’ll be late if we stick around that long,” she states and then shares a kiss with Lisa, my phallus in the middle.
One of their hands, not sure whose and not caring at this point, starts fondling my balls. Both women begin humming, sending delightful sensations down my cock and into my spine.
“Oh, unh,” I grunt as I place my hands on the backs of their heads, blasting off a load of sperm. Each jet arcs high, before coming back down and splattering their cheeks.
Feeling slightly spent, my head falls back to my pillow.
“Oh wow,” Lisa says, “I love how energized I feel after tasting your cum.”
“Yum, me too,” Becky agrees before licking my seed from her roommate�
��s face. They share a passionate kiss, swapping my cum and cleaning each other off at the same time.
Smiling, I fall back to sleep until my alarm goes off.
I find myself alone as I get ready for work, surprised to find a couple ants in my kitchen as I make my breakfast.
The flowers the girls had thanked me for are on the counter, and I wonder who they could have been from. A note attached to them simply says, “Thanks for all your help.”
Probably meant for someone else I decide, and finish getting ready. I don’t mind getting rewarded for someone else’s work.
Whistling happily, I get ready for work, until I get in the Orange Bubble.
My car gently hums as I sit in the parking garage below my office building. I know I should go in, but Brooke’s gentle scent still resides in here. As pathetic as it may seem, I don’t want to leave. Even as happy as Becky and Lisa make me, I still miss my childhood friend.
Being in here also reminds me of Angela, and everything she’s done for me.
“Mr. Snow?” My heart leaps into my throat as someone knocks on my window. I look out to see Guard Lansbury shining a flashlight in at me. “Is everything okay? You’ve been sitting in here for a while.”
For a moment I just stare at her, uncomprehending. How did she know? Then I notice a security camera behind her.
The worry I see in the large woman’s blue eyes penetrates my gloom, and I open the door, stepping out.
“I noticed your car sitting down here for a while, but you never came in,” she tells me. For once her tone and words are more concerned than raunchy or risqué. “Thought you might be whacking off in here, and I wanted to come check it out.” Then again, maybe not.
“Wanna fuck?” I ask, not even caring about my language. What does it matter if I swear?
“But I can see that you—wait, what?” Confusion paints her tone as she tries to assimilate my question. I really can’t blame her. With the exception of that kiss last Thursday, I’ve never really hit on her. She’s made very overt advances towards me; maybe even enough to create an HR complaint, but to be honest it’s never really bothered me. Embarrassing, sure, but I’ve never been offended. Asking her like this is completely out of character for me, but right now I can’t seem to care.
My girlfriends, Becky and Lisa, pass through my thoughts. There’s a term I’d never thought I’d say, relative to myself. ‘Girlfriends.’ They’d woken me up slightly early this morning with a fantastic blowjob. And yet, here I sit mooning over two people who’ve abandoned me, and propositioning a woman whose only real sexual attraction is her inhumanly massive breasts. Oh, and she’s a great kisser.
I dismiss those thoughts. What does it matter? What does anything matter? Sooner or later one of TanaVesta’s goons is going to come for me, to haul me back to her. Brooke and Angela have abandoned me. I might as well enjoy life as much as I can, while I can.
I’m in a dark spot right now. I know I’m acting poorly. Lisa and Becky deserve better.
And Lansbury has some really big tits!
“Wanna fuck?” I ask again and watch as her cheeks turn red in embarrassment.
“I. . . but you. . . um. . . I mean. . . huh?” She’s actually kind of cute with that bewildered look on her face, a slight flush to her cheeks.
“Of course, we’ll have to find a spot that doesn’t have any security cameras watching,” I continue as if she understood me completely.
“Are you feeling alright Mr. Snow?” she returns to her original thoughts. Almost like a computer that gets rebooted by an illegal command.
“Fine enough,” I lie to her cheerily, “and call me Lyden. Of course, if you’d rather not. . .” I leave that hanging, not truly caring one way or another.
Her blue eyes blink a few times as she realizes that I’m actually serious. I watch as she chews on her cheeks, trying to come to a conclusion. “Come with me, I know just the spot,” she says as I see steely determination enter her eyes.
Somehow I know that she feels this might be some trick at her expense. With her size, her childhood would have been rife with cruel teasing. Flashes of mean kids taunting her because she was overweight, flit through my mind. I see a younger version of her as an eighteen year old, going to her senior prom with some guy that looks like he was custom built as a linebacker. I see him dancing with Lansbury, and know that this is the highlight of her life at this point. The mental imagery blurs, and I see the two alone in a hotel room as Jennifer (I now know that’s her first name) gets undressed, expecting to finally lose her virginity. Why isn’t he getting undressed, she wonders as she frees her enormous breasts from her bra. She blushes rather prettily under his gaze. Just as she starts to tug her panties down, already soaked with anticipation, the door to their room bursts open. Half the football team streams in, some with cameras, pointing and laughing at ‘the delusional heifer’.
I stop in my tracks as my mind pulls out of hers, and I have a better glimpse into this woman. I now understand that her raunchiness and general attitude is a shield: a way to protect herself against anything like that ever happening again.
I also know that she’s still a virgin. She’s never allowed anyone to get that close again.
Shaking my head, I try to come to grips with this new ability of mine, probably acquired from Angela. Despite all the conversations I’ve had with this woman, I was never aware of this side of her. Somehow it makes her more human to me, rather than just a fixture in my office building.
“Jennifer, wait,” I say to the large woman’s back.
“I was wondering when you’d spring the joke,” she tells me, and I feel a lance of emotional pain pierce me. She thinks I’m just like those bullies from high school.
“No, that’s not it,” I try to say, but she talks right over me.
“You want to know the sad thing?” Her back, still turned to me, is stiff. Her tone is bland and emotionless as she talks. “You’ve always treated me well. You never treated me like the fat tub of lard that I am. I thought. . . I mean, after that kiss last week, I thought that maybe. . . .”
“Jennifer, you don’t understand.” Placing my hand on her shoulder, I’m not prepared for her to spin around and jab a finger into my chest. Apparently her arms are rather strong as my chest is now smarting where she’d poked me. Tears pour from her eyes and run down her cheeks.
“I don’t understand?” she demands of me, jabbing my chest with her finger again and knocking me back a step. “Oh, I understand just fine. Do you think I don’t notice how people look at me? That I don’t realize that I’m a large woman? Yes, Mr. Snow, I understand just fine what a delusional heifer I am!”
Before I have a chance to respond, she turns and storms off. For a larger woman, she can move faster than I’d thought.
Now I really feel like shit. She’s always treated me well, if a bit like a sexual object instead of a human. And even though my intentions weren’t to hurt her, I’d gone and done that anyway. Why couldn’t she have taken two breaths to let me explain?
Wait, maybe I can email her. I know it’s not as good at doing it in person, but right now I think it may be my only chance of getting her to understand my intentions.
Great! Now then, what are my intentions? I wonder as I pass the checkpoint into the building–noticeably absent of Guard Lansbury—and head for my office. When I’d asked if she wanted to screw, I’d been serious. It was only after viewing into her past that I became hesitant. My intentions were never to hurt her.
“You failed to come to church yesterday,” AnnaBelle greets me as I walk through the door. “Your eternal soul will never be cleansed and free of the evil that surrounds you if you don’t make the effort. Our Lord and Savior is willing to help you, but you have to be willing to meet him halfway. I know Reverend Michael Chilton can help you come to terms with God. He is the holiest man I know.”
This is the wrong thing to say to me at the moment. I spin on her, piercing her with my gaze. My mind floods with images and
thoughts, while my mouth begins speaking without me consciously forming the words.
“Is that what you tell yourself when you lie awake at night fantasizing about your college aged neighbor’s son? Or what about that one time when you were in college and your roommate invited you to join her and her boyfriend?” There is heat in my tone now, but I don’t let up as knowledge about this pious woman flows into me. “Maybe, when you’re sitting in the pews at your church, you can convince yourself that you’re the epitome of goodliness. That you don’t covet your neighbor’s large screen TV. Or how you have to lie to yourself about how happy you are in life?”
Tears, brimming in the older woman’s eyes, pull me from my anger, and I shut my mouth. I know I shouldn’t have said all that, but her high and mighty attitude, coupled with the last few days really tipped me over the edge.
“I may not be perfect, Mr. Snow,” she tells me, and despite the tears in her eyes there is steel in her voice, “but I’m trying to be better.” Without breaking eye contact with me, she stands, grabs her purse, and finally looks away before heading for the door. “Tell Ms. Lance I’m sick today.” And with that, she’s gone.
What the hell is wrong with me? I wonder as I sit down at my desk. Both Thomas and Debbie refuse to look my way, and I don’t blame them. I feel like scum right now. I used language that I prefer not to use down in the garage, ended up hurting a friend of mine, and then came up here and aired AnnaBelle’s dirty laundry for all to hear. Brooke and Angela abandoning me doesn’t give me the right to act like this. Maybe they were right to leave. I’m turning into some kind of monster.
But maybe I can make amends to at least one of them right now. Logging into my computer, I type up a quick but heartfelt email to Jennifer Lansbury. I check the box for a read receipt so that I’ll know when she’s read it.