by Ada Scott
Ryan
“One million dollars,” I said, handing my friend, Billy D, a brown paper sack under the table that looked like a giant’s lunch.
“OK, assuming nothing unforeseen comes up, that’s the last of it. Payroll, materials, and… uh… danger money are covered now, as agreed,” he said.
“Except for-”
“Anything else for the two of you?” the waitress asked.
“Not for me, thanks. Billy D?”
Back in college there were three Billys in our class, we’d taken to calling them Billy D, Billy G and Billy W (we’d pronounce it “Billy Dubya”) just for the sake of clarity. Even now that Billy D was the only one I still spoke to, I couldn’t shake the habit.
“No, I’m fine. Just the check then.”
“Sure thing.” She put her little notebook away and left.
This diner was barely within city limits, a couple streets off the main drag into Highston coming from the north. Not only was it out of the way, but they played the music pretty loud too. It was great for keeping your conversations to yourself even if people were reasonably close.
“Except for the explosives, how much more do you need now?” I asked.
“Four hundred pounds.”
My eyes widened. “That’s… a fairly big jump over the initial estimates.”
“It is, sorry. But, hey, at least you know now and if you can supply it at the same rate you have been, it’s all good, right? We’re still right on schedule.”
“I’ll have it ready in two months, two deliveries,” I said.
“Even better.”
“Yeah, easy.” I rolled my eyes. “So, hey, I forgot to ask, how’s Laura and the kids?”
“Good, man. She’s looking forward to relocating somewhere warmer when this is all over. It’s good timing too, before Brandon starts school. Great time to turn up in a new city, retired and rich from “selling my app” or some shit.”
“Sounds good to me. I think the life will suit you,” I laughed.
Billy D joined in. He was living proof that the old saying was true:
Give a man some fish and he’ll say thank you. Give a man some pussy and he’ll say thank you forever.
He’d have my back until his dying day, ever since I introduced him to his wife, who was working as a stripper to pay her college tuition fees at the time. Seven years later and they had a picture-perfect little family going on.
The waitress returned with the bill. I picked it up to have a look before sliding it across to my friend. “This must be your treat, knowing what you’ve got in that bag.”
“I’m not opening that h-”
I waved him into silence. “I know, I know. I’m just fuckin’ with ya.”
I pulled out my wallet and left a few notes on the dish with the bill before standing up. “I’ll be in touch. Thanks again, you’re doing a good job.”
“Gotta use the degree for somethin’, right?”
“Exactly. Catch you later.”
“Later.”
Billy D still had half a cup of coffee left and he sipped at it as I walked out the door. It was a happy coincidence that he happened to be exactly who I needed to really fuck the Acardis. I hoped to have time to visit him in whatever tropical paradise he called home next year.
For now, I had a shitload of work to do.
I carried a few of the smaller items I’d requested to my own private area in my lab. It was tough to keep the smile off my face.
Sure, I was making cash hand over fist for the Acardis, but if they knew how much of that money was being used to wipe them off the map, they’d shit a brick. Out there in the main area, my grunts were making F, F-Pro, and conducting a few “experiments” for me that would result in large quantities of explosives, as well as a few legitimate cases of research and development.
The stuff in these boxes, though, I was going to use myself, because I sure as fuck didn’t need an extra four hundred pounds of the shit. Maybe a dozen well-placed drops would do the trick in the end. That might be all I had the time to use, anyway.
Already suited up in protective clothing, I opened the boxes, double-checked that everything was exactly as I’d ordered, and set up all my equipment. Fucked if I wanted any of this shit getting on me.
It was a relatively easy process for me, only made difficult by my unshakable awareness of how bad it would be if a single droplet managed to find a way through my suit and on to my skin. Still, it was a liquid at room temperature, non-corrosive and non-volatile, so it was deceptively easy to handle.
By the time my interrogation-from-hell concoction was in the centrifuge, there hadn’t been any mishaps, and the direct handling of the ingredients was all done for the day. I cleaned up and walked the lab, making sure everybody was doing exactly what I told them, no more and no less.
Everybody did their best to not make eye contact with me as I passed, unless I spoke to them directly, focusing intently on their jobs regardless of how menial they may have been. They shrunk from me as if I was radiating too much heat, and that was fine by me.
I didn’t know how the Acardis handled the men I reported as being shit workers, that was their business. It was my business to take care of the “unskilled” help who appeared to be suspiciously talented chemists. Everybody in between had learned over the months and years that it was best to just do what I said without question.
It was a powerful feeling, and I reveled in it. In here, more than anywhere else, everything was completely under control. The rest of the city would follow soon enough.
Once the team was suitably motivated, I returned to my private corner and scrolled through screen after screen of test results. Results from the quality control on the latest batch of F, results from tests on the legitimate experiments, results from quality control tests on the raw goods coming in from suppliers, diagnostics on the equipment, and so on.
Everything was coming in within normal parameters, and I found my mind wandering back to Sarina, time and again. I was looking forward to our date even more than I thought I would.
It was so, for want of a better word, unusual the way she was so clearly desperate to get me inside her again… and yet she was making the both of us wait. No other girl in my recent life was like that, especially after they’d had a taste of the things I could do to them in bed.
Unusual. Yes. Interesting too, that was it. I had to admit, I was enjoying our little game. Waiting a little longer was going to make it all the sweeter when I slid my cock into that perfect pink pussy again.
Come to think of it, between the satisfaction of our first sexathon, meetings, pulling back from my personal F distribution and just being generally busy, I hadn’t thought about another girl since being with Sarina. Tonight, it would be almost a week since I fucked her.
With that kind of wait, I’d have a big present saved up for our next session. I was pulling out all the stops for this date, she’d be putty in my hands and I’d be anything but putty in hers.
Sarina
Ryan showed up dressed to kill. He led me to his car, drove me to a restaurant called Unseen, and was a perfect gentleman all the while. Except for that smile that still had a devilish little edge to it, of course.
I tried to stay serious, tried to steer us to the friendzone, but damn that smile. And his eyes. Damn his smile and his eyes. He made me want to giggle like a schoolgirl.
I didn’t, thank goodness, but I couldn’t help but smile back. I melted when he told me how much he’d been looking forward to seeing me again, for the chance to get to know me better. He even helped me out of the car after he parked.
“Have you dined here before?” the man standing at the little podium asked with a professional smile after confirming Ryan’s reservation.
“I haven’t, but I thought it sounded interesting,” said Ryan. “You?”
“No, what sounded interesting?” I said.
“Well, ma’am, all our dining experiences are held in pitch-black darkness. You won
’t be able to see a thing. All of our waiters and waitresses are blind, so your service will be of the highest quality. You’ve been allocated the Englert room, which contains a single table, very romantic.”
I blushed and smiled up at Ryan as we were steered past a door to the main dining room, down a short hallway to another door that had a waiter standing outside. He stood to attention almost like a soldier when he heard us approaching.
“Andy will be your waiter for this evening, and he’ll take you from here. Andy, this is Ryan Crewe and Sarina Bell.”
“Nice to meet you!” said Andy, his eyes looking between the two of us at slightly over my head height.
“You too!” I said.
“First time at Unseen?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Ryan.
“OK, you’re gonna love it! Follow me through here, we’ll go through a little room first, that’s our light-trap, and then into the Englert room. Oh first though, another question.”
“What’s that?” asked Ryan.
“How’s my hair?”
Ryan and I laughed.
“Looking sharp,” I said.
“Great! It’s tough to be sure, as you can imagine, so thanks for your help. Right this way.”
Andy led us through the light-trap, then we formed a hand-holding train as he took us directly to our table in the middle of the room, guiding us into our seats. The darkness was truly complete, even after a couple of minutes of adjusting I couldn’t see the faintest outline or hint of movement anywhere.
“So the menu is very simple here at Unseen, since you effectively have to memorize it to compare and contrast your choices. Basically, you can choose from the beef, chicken, fish or vegetarian options, and our award-winning chef will prepare you something that will blow your socks off. Would you like any drinks while you decide?”
“A bottle of champagne, please. The last one I bought got broken somehow,” said Ryan.
“That’s a shame, sir.”
“Yes it was,” I said, “and, I’ve already decided on my food. I’ll have the chicken, since I’ve recently had a wide variety of beef dishes.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
“Well, if you’ve decided, then so have I. I’ll have the beef just to be different,” said Ryan.
“You two make a great couple, very decisive.”
The darkness hid my latest blush.
“A couple small points before I leave. Sir, if you feel on the table along the right edge as you’re facing it, you’ll feel a button. We don’t like to intrude much, so if you need me for anything at any stage, just press that button and it delivers a non-lethal electric charge to myself. I’ve been conditioned to respond very quickly. OK?”
“Got it.”
“And if nature calls, you’ll find a door on the opposite side of the room to where we entered, so that’s behind you and to your left, ma’am, that will take you through another light trap and to the restrooms. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be right back with your champagne.”
Andy was lightning quick with our champagne, and even filled up the first glasses for us, and left us with some bread and various oils to dip it in, if we could figure out how to aim for them. After a bit of small talk, I tried to get some information out of Ryan.
“So you’ve got me at a disadvantage,” I said.
“How so? You think I’m blind too? Makes the drive over here all the more impressive, huh?”
I laughed. “No, like, I feel like you know a lot more about me than I do about you. You’ve been in my dorm more than I have, you know what I’m studying, you know I’ve never… well, before you… I’m just not usually like that. And you, you’re this big mystery.”
“Well, how do you think we can even up the scores?”
“Tell me about, well, what is it you do? Mmmm, try the oil closest to you, that’s a good one.”
“I’m self-employed. I own a cosmetics company,” Ryan said.
“Cosmetics? Can I get discounted lipstick from you?”
“Sure.”
“How did you even get into that? Did you take, what, chemistry at Highston?”
“No, engineering actually, but I wish I’d taken marketing. That’s what the company really is when you get down to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, all I did was source some generic cosmetic lines from overseas. Things like moisturizing cream and lipsticks are incredibly cheap and easy to make. I slap my brand on it, and I have a pretty good marketing system in place. Orders are all either fulfilled by Amazon or drop-shipped if ordered via my website or social media. I keep the marketing budget flowing, and swap out the marketing materials when it looks like people are getting tired of them. Pretty much everything is automated or outsourced. I haven’t had my hands on any cosmetics in almost a year.”
“You serious?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“I never would have guessed that.”
Andy returned with our food, then promptly excused himself after making sure we had everything we needed. The food smelled delicious, and my stomach rumbled as I tried to guess just how my chicken had been prepared.
“So cheers to champagne bottles that remain intact,” Ryan said.
“Cheers.”
“I’m holding my glass up.”
“Oh, haha!”
I carefully found my glass and waved it around in the general area over the table until I heard the musical clink, then took a sip. Next on the agenda was finding my knife and fork.
“My turn,” said Ryan, “speaking of Champagne bottles. Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“Oh, just self-defense classes and boxercise,” I said. “A long time ago something… um… happened to me and I promised it wouldn’t… it would not… happen again without a fight. I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“It’s OK.” Ryan was silent for a moment. “Well, I got one thing right that night.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re incredible.”
When Ryan said it, I couldn’t stop myself from believing him. I could feel the admiration in his voice, the same way I’d felt it in his body on the night we met. After suddenly getting a sinking feeling when reminded of that night ten years ago that set me on this career path, his words picked me right up again.
The food was delicious and, as the meal progressed, I felt myself relaxing, laughing and blushing. I almost lost it when we traded forkfuls of our meals for testing purposes, and I accidentally stuck a piece of chicken in honey-mustard sauce into his eye.
I hadn’t allowed myself much time to have fun in my life, but I recognized it when I felt it, and this was it. The way Ryan made me feel, even when I couldn’t see him, feel him or smell him over the food made the lines between Sarina Bell and Sarina Beckett all too easy to blur.
By the time we finished our mains and Ryan sent a non-lethal electrical charge so we could get our dessert, I was on top of the world. Ryan wasn’t finished with me yet, though.
Sarina
For a blind man, for any man, the pace that Andy worked at was phenomenal. Our plates and cutlery were cleared away and the dessert wheeled in in record time.
Unlike the mains, Ryan had pre-ordered the dessert when he made the reservations. If it was meant to be a surprise, the fruity aroma may have given the game away.
I inhaled deeply. “Mmmm, is that strawberries?”
“Yep. Don’t touch.”
In the darkness I heard Ryan stand up and bring his chair next to mine, and sit down again. Like in the club, his leg was now touching mine, and without the food separating us, I could smell his cologne mixing with the strawberries to form some kind of panty-melting cloud of aroma.
That is one sexy smell…
“Where are you?” Ryan asked as if he didn’t know.
His hand touched my leg, my arm, then cradled my face and I leaned into his caress. Why did this feel so good? Had I been so unwanted my
whole life that I craved Ryan’s attention this much?
The way my common sense ran for the hills every time I was with Ryan made me think that the answer was a resounding yes. That touch was pure desire. In this moment, at least, he wanted me with every fiber of his being.
His other hand joined in the caress, and he gathered my hair off my shoulders, wrapping it in a firm grip while I basked in his focus and his touch. Once it was wrapped tight enough to pull against my scalp, he gave the tiniest of shakes to test his control of my head, and found it to his liking when I gasped. I could almost see the smile on his face.
“Open. Your. Mouth,” he whispered.
I licked my lips, gulped and did as he commanded, just in time to feel a strawberry touch against my cheek. With the firm grip he had on my hair, I couldn’t freely turn my head to get it, but he quickly corrected course and the sweet fruit was popped into my mouth.
Strawberry flavor burst on my tongue and momentarily overwhelmed the scent of Ryan’s cologne. His fingers traced along my jawline as I chewed, so light that they almost tickled, just barely touching my newly-found erogenous zone before he reached for my next mouthful.
“This is going to get messy,” he said.
He was right in every sense of the word. I could feel a sensation between my legs like a faint hum, a feeling I knew was going to eventually result in me sitting here with wet panties if he kept this up.
Messy. And if I kept on caving in, the mess was going to change my life until I didn’t even recognize it anymore.
The way he craved me, yet controlled me, made me feel like some kind of a dirty princess. Now that thought made me shiver in pleasure.
“Open,” he said.
I did, and felt another strawberry hit me in the lips. Something was different about this one though, the fruit was covered in some kind of chocolate sauce that dripped from my mouth and down my chin.
“Mmmm, napkin!” I said around the strawberry, as it slipped across my tongue.