AI Era: Enhancement

Josie's Note - This is my first ever contest entry. I've had this idea for an AI story for some time so I hope you enjoy. There's a minor tie-in to my series Nylon Conquest, but you don't have to read that series to enjoy this stand-alone story.

See you on the other side!!!

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Thursday 4:30 PM

By 4:30 p. m., the Campbell Apartment was filling up fast. The "secret" cocktail bar in Grand Central Terminal was a tribute to the railroad era of the 1920s, complete with the massive safe installed by the former builder of the enormous complex. The room was dimly lit, filled with plush chairs, dark wood-and-glass coffee tables, an ornate Beaux-Arts bar adorned with etched glass sconces and hanging fixtures to match, and area rugs so thick a girl could catch a heel in them.

This is where the city's elite power brokers come to soften up their clients with thirty-five-year-old Scotch and wagyu-beef sliders in their never-ending, passive-aggressive quest to get them to 'Yes.' The age-old combination of atmosphere, camaraderie and alcohol magnified the already sky-high self-confidence of the mostly male animals lurking within. Fresh from their victories at the financial battlefields that were Park Avenue and Wall Street, these men considered themselves ruthless, street smart, desirable. In the eat-what-you-kill mind set of the elite power broker, the meek deserved to be separated from their wealth-their vulnerability sufficient justification for their fleecing.

It was here that Pete Simpson, CEO of AI-Robotica, was spending his Thursday afternoon. He didn't come to New York often. Simpson's a Cali guy through and through. Headquartered in Silicon Valley, he was usually found ensconced in the inscrutable world of AI development tech, his company goal to mimic the thought patterns of the human brain. But not just any brain.

Artificial General Intelligence, or A. G. I. is the holy-grail. Self-reliant machine intelligence indistinguishable from the human brain. Except, Simpson thought smugly, they're dead wrong about that. Simpson's AGI is far superior to anything the human brain is, or ever will be.

The mathematical minds of Einstein, Isaac Newton, Stephen Hawking. The artistic brains of Mozart, Davinci, Cezanne. The logic of a Garry Kasparov. The written word mastery of Voltaire, Shakespeare, Author Conan Doyle. The philosophical insights of Aristotle and Plato, the inventiveness of Edison, Steve Jobs. The strategic intelligence of an Eisenhower.

Combine it all, then multiply by ten.

These were the goals of AI-Robotica. Build an Artificial Intelligence engine that combines all that and more, and puts it into a hard-drive package small and light enough to carry in a woman's purse.

Or a skull.

Despite his distain for big cities, Simpson figured the trip to New York might be good for him. His centerfold trophy wife of six years was turning into a nag. He could no longer do even the slightest thing right. Sheila was never satisfied. He'd built her a life of wealth and privilege and yet his home life had turned miserable. He'd taken to putting in sixteen-hour days, seven days a week. Yes, he loved his business, but he hated being at home more.

The clincher: his detectives confirmed it last night. Sheila was fucking some artist from Sausalito.

Normally he wouldn't have minded so much. Anything that gave her something to do while he spent a hundred hours a week at the office was good for his marriage. So long as she dutifully opened her long gorgeous legs whenever he wanted relief. But she had recently withheld even that little perk.

Which cut her value to virtually nil.

He'd have to bite that bullet when he got home. Time to pull the plug.

It would be expensive. Ridiculously expensive in California. Thank God for the prenup.

Briefly he thought about how simple it would be to deploy his AGI to cancel the life of the artist. Not kill him. Nothing gentle like that. Just take from him everything he cherishes. His money. His home. His reputation. Sheila.

Maybe. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. Simpson had the power; he hadn't yet decided if he cared enough about Sheila's affair to wield it.

Didn't really matter. Simpson was an expert at using the power of his position over the thousands of women in his employ. Recently, he'd discovered a liking for eighteen-year-old interns. He'd found a few that will suck his dick so long as he promises them full-time jobs, golden tickets in the hottest robotic company in the hottest industry in the country. Better than Google.

Maybe he even would follow through and give some of them full time jobs. Maybe not. Depends how talented and eager their lips are, he supposed.

One of the little bitches had been calling in sick a lot lately. He'd have to remember to deploy his AI to check out her life. Maybe make a few changes. Persuade her to come back to him.

His balls swelled at the thought of her crawling back to him on her knees.

Today Simpson was sitting in the Grand Central Terminal bar with a couple of mopes from Replicant Industries.

Steve Jensen and Ron Jackson, CEO and CFO respectively, founded Replicant - one of the world's leading companies in humanoid robotic technology. Known in the industry as "The Two J's", Jensen and Jackson had set out as their goal to create a humanoid face and body indistinguishable from the real thing.

"We've made so much progress in the last year, Pete," Jackson said.

Or was it Jensen? It didn't matter. Simpson just needed to get them talking if he was going to get what he needed out of this meeting. But his mind was wandering.

She'd passed him by a few moments ago. A man at the table next to the Two J's had just paid his bill and was leaving. With a tiny smile of thanks, she took the empty chair and stood for a moment, her back to Simpson. She was scanning the room, looking for someone. A stunner, she had lucked into the table at the busy lounge in the perfect seat for him to ogle her, just behind and to the left of the two J's, who were too absorbed in their pitch to notice the goddess standing an arm's length away.

"So I'll bite," Simpson said, forcing himself to concentrate on this meeting. "Have you solved the Intermodal problem?"

Jensen's face clouded. "As you know, human perception is extremely sensitive to irregularities in facial expression. Even very finely tuned instruments may detect no flaw, yet the human eye..."

"... The human eye is the greatest bullshit detector in the universe," said Simpson. "Nobody's managed to fool it yet. Not even close."

When she'd passed, he'd admired her long, lean legs, gorgeously encased in glossy ultra-sheer nylons. Women in nylons always get his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. The complex pattern stitching of the nylons running up the back of her ankles was fashioned in the outline of a tall building - the "Manhattan" heel pattern, he knew. A black seam ran from the top of the "building", up her luscious legs, and disappeared past her mid-thigh hemline. Her stilettos were a deadly five inches tall, setting off all the lean womanly muscles in her shapely calves.

"Oh, we're close," Jackson said. Or was it Jensen? "We've got smoother gestures, incredibly realistic facial expressions, AI voice generation that you wouldn't believe..."

"... Have you solved the problem of syncing its voice to facial expressions within the Turing Multimodal Framework Standard?" Simson knew the human brain can detect voice / facial lag as small as eight milliseconds. Nobody's got anything even remotely that responsive yet.

"Well, not yet. But..."

"What about emotional authenticity? Where..."

"Well, that's the icing on the cake, Pete. That's when everything comes together, where indistinguishability between robot and human is solved."

They're not there yet. They're not even close.

"It sounds like you've got a long way to go here."

"Oh we're close Pete," Jensen said. "Let me lay it out for you."

Women with stunning legs always know. She'd perfected her walk to drive the sex quotient of her lower body to a twelve. Her skirt was skintight. Her glossy nylons made her legs so sexy his heart wept. She wore a tailored jacket, fitted perfectly to her tiny waist. Thick waves of platinum blonde hair fell in curly masses to her lower back.

Simpson fought for concentration.

The Two J's were in the market for AGI brain tech to power their humanoid robots. Their pitch to Simpson was something like this: Combine the brilliance of your Artificial General Intelligence brain with our human-like robotics, and we'll conquer the world. Together.

Except Simpson knew the Two J's were bullshitting him. Replicant's robots weren't perfect. Not even close. Especially their faces. They were laughably artificial. He'd have to be convinced that Replicant Industries indeed has a path to that level of perfection before he'd commit his AI technology to them.

She gave up looking around and sat down. He got a full view of her, yet she was turned away slightly so she probably wouldn't see him staring.

He shook himself out of his reverie. There's business at hand...

The Two J's. Yeah.

In Simpson's view, these guys were on the wrong track. He, on the other hand, was hoping to glean some raw industrial intelligence out of them. He'd heard about a breakthrough in the industry. Hence his coming to New York for this meeting. Simpson had been hearing a persistent rumor of a startup company in the UK that had the human face problem solved.

If the hype was true, he'd pay billions to get a piece of that tech, and he could raise tens of billions more.

He was wary of outsiders like the Two J's - guys who were always on the lookout to steal his tech. But that wouldn't be possible. His tech was safely protected in his secure labs in California. Besides, the 34 TB file was far larger than anything that could be downloaded remotely.

She settled back in the elegant chair and crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up her thigh, showing him a hint of the welts of her stockings. The tell-tale stretch in the ultra sheer fabric told him she was wearing garters, not stay ups. Certainly not pantyhose. The garters were just out of sight. His mouth went dry.

One of the J's made the closing argument of his pitch. "So you see, Pete, we've the best platform to develop the robotic tech, we've got the R&D to get to the next level. We got..."

Simpson had heard it all before. He tuned out, just nodding to show he was listening, biding his time until they shut up so he could probe them for what he needed.

His attention was elsewhere.

When she looked up, Simpson's heart raced; a bit of sweat popped out of his brow. Sweet fuck. She had the face of an angel to go with those legs and that body.

A very slutty angel.

Enormous emerald-green eyes, the hollow cheeks of an athlete, delicate nose, pouty cock-sucking crimson lips so glossy you could see your face in them.

Her jacket was cut low enough to reveal a hint of inner boob, the generous swell of her bosom promising massive soft treasures within.

Apparently restless, she uncrossed and recrossed those magnificent legs with a sexy swish so heart-bendingly powerful its soft sticky tendrils snaked across the void between she and he, tickling his brain and slipping up both pant legs, meeting in the middle and wrapping themselves around and around his ever-growing cock.

She possessed an ethereal beauty that oozed sex, as if every morsel of her face and body was designed by some higher power to render all men into babbling, drooling cum machines, desperate to drive their throbbing needy dicks deep inside her hot grasping tunnel, but utterly incapable of lasting more than a few brief seconds before exploding uncontrollably, deep inside her soaking pussy in guilt-ridden spasms of utter shame and pure electric ecstasy.

And she was alone.

"And so, Pete, what do you think of my offer?"

Simpson had to consciously tear his gaze away from the goddess before him to refocus on the two men. They had not seen her; they were too engrossed in their sales pitch to see anything but their quarry.

Him.

"Um, which part Steve?"

Jensen's face flickered with annoyance. He'd recovered quickly, but Simpson had detected the micro expression no-one can hide.

"Well, as I said, to bring you and whoever you select to come to our plant in Charlotte. To meet Emma, our latest and greatest humanoid robot. I'm sure you'll conclude, Emma is so close to the real thing, you'll want to take her home with you. But I warn you, no hanky-panky!"

The Two J's laughed at their own joke. Simpson didn't bother to engage.

Because over Jensen's shoulder, the blonde checked the elegant rose Art Deco watch that complimented her sheer shoulder-length nylon-and-lace opera gloves. The fingernails were cut out, revealing long scarlet talons that matched her mirror-finish crimson lipstick, adding a touch of fetish to her sexy style.

"Let me see Steve." Simpson picked up his phone, making a show of checking his schedule. He held it up so he could pretend to scan the screen while watching the blonde give her drink order to the server.

He enjoyed watching her interact with the waiter. The little smiles, her eyes shining as she spoke. Dazzling him with the tip of her tongue as she considered her order, making him fall in love with her from her very first word. Even the way she'd settled in and tracked his departing form with her eyes, her gloved elbows sitting comfortably on the armrests, her long, slender fingers interlaced before her.

Her upper-crossed leg bounced, just a little. Impatient maybe?

Simpson had spent enough time pretending to check his calendar. "Why don't I discuss with the team back home and I'll get back to you. Early next week? Wednesday at the latest. Sound good?"

Jensen and Jackson shared a quick look and turned back to him. "Sure, Pete, sure. That would be fine. But what are your first impressions here?"

My first impression is that I'd fuck her so fast it would make her head spin.

But that wasn't the question.

"My first impression is that... I need more time to digest this with my tech team. I'll tell you straight up: the tech worries me and we'll have to be convinced that the visual version of the Turing Test would be successful in the foreseeable future."

"Absolutely Pete. Five years, and you won't be able to tell the difference. I guarantee it."

"You guarantee it." Simpson sad it flatly.

She checked her phone and tossed it onto the table with a clatter.

Something's wrong.

"I guarantee it. Our bot will absolutely pass the Visual Turing Test for facial recognition and body interaction."

Body interaction. That made him snort. He suppressed a highly-sexualized retort. Instead, he played it straight.

"You mean where a group of testers would not be able to tell the difference between the human face and the robot?"

"Exactly. I understand your tech has passed the intelligence Turing Test with flying colors."

The Turing Test. If computer can fool a human into believing it's human, then the computer is truly intelligent. A series a questions, cross-referenced and designed to expose the non-human pretender, had been put to Simpson's AGI by an independent board of scholars. They'd all concluded the responder was human. They were so convinced, he could not make them believe he wasn't running an elaborate scam.

Her drink arrived. Martini glass, a side of clear liquor, a dish of ice.

A Vesper.

She raised the glass and slipped the tiny purple straw between her luscious glossy lips. She gave it a little suck, barely drawing down the level of the gin. She paused a moment, her crimson lips puckered into a perfectly round "O", the little straw piercing its center. After taking a shallow breath, she gently pursed her lips and resumed the suck.

He envied that little straw.

In that moment, Simpson decided two things. One, the Two J's had no new information to give him. Two, he had to get rid of them before some other enterprising prick introduces him to the doll at the next table and beats him to the punch.

"OK," Simpson said. "I'll be in touch next week. Sound good?"

The finality in his voice spoke volumes. The meeting was over. To leave no doubt, he looked at their empty glasses. "Don't worry. I've got it."

The Two J's shared another look. Jensen shrugged and they stood. Simpson did the same, offering his hand. "Jensen, Jackson, I'll be in touch."

They shook hands and left.

He was alone.

She was fiddling in her little clutch purse. Looking for something.

Found it. A gold lipstick tube fell from her hand, hitting her shoe and rolling to Simpson's feet. He picked it up and looked at her. Two fingers covered her lips. She was sorry.

Simpson stood and closed the six feet to her table. "Yours I believe?"

She smiled. Just a hint, really. Just enough to keep him guessing. "Thank you." She held out a gloved hand, palm side up, and accepted the little tube. "This is very precious."

"May I buy you a drink?" It was a bit lame, he realized. Her drink was fresh, and he didn't want to appear to be.

"I have what I need now, thanks," she said. There was no invitation in the tone of her voice.

But Simpson was far more resilient than that. In his world, 'No' was a call to arms.

"Your friend is missing in action?"

She shrugged. "Well I'm late. So I'm not sure if she's already been here and left, or if she's just really late."

She. Did she slip in the gender of her friend by happenstance, or was it deliberate?

"May I sit with you while you wait?"

Another shrug. "I don't usually, but... what the hell."

Simpson rotated the nearest available chair and angled himself so he could openly ogle her legs. He wasn't looking for a girlfriend. One of his early lessons about picking up women was that it was best to telegraph your intentions right away. The sooner she understood what he wanted, the sooner they could make the right connection, or have a pleasant drink and move on. He'd found that if he nakedly lusted after his quarry from the onset, he wasted a lot less time. If she's looking for a good fuck, she'll appreciate his forward nature. She was either in, or she was out. And so as he took his seat, he positioned himself so her legs were fully on display to him. Because Simpson was a leg man, through and through.

Seeing her legs this close, he quickly realized he had underplayed how gorgeous and sexy they were. He was mesmerized in their proximity, stunned into shameless staring. Her mid-thigh hemline had crept higher when she'd settled into the elegant chair, its hiking made inevitable by the tightness of her skirt, the swell of her thighs, the slickness of her fine glossy nylons. The happy result was a spectacular view of the full length of her glorious legs, from just below her pussy to her sky-high stilettos. He openly admired her legs: their beauty, their length, the tight cross of left over right. That tight little place where her crossed thighs met, the line they scribed between her thighs pointing directly towards what he knew would be the sweet and glorious treasure deep in the soaking core of her sexy body.

The soft lighting in the bar glinted off the silky luxury nylons, stretched like a second skin along her long, lean thighs, defining the indented line running the length of her lower-crossed thigh from hemline to knee. Her nylons were indeed flawless, clinging tightly to the shapely knees turned slightly purple under the feminine pressure of the filmy mesh, to the long lean muscles in her slender calves. The back seams of her nylons followed the complex contours of her calves, disappearing into the fine mirror finish of her designer stilettos. Her trim little ankle was adorned with a tiny silver bracelet, clearly visible inside its nylon prison. Ten perfectly polished little digits were enclosed in the dark reinforced toes of her stockings, beautifully set off in the ultra-high heels of her scarlet open-toed sandals.

Despite his stare, or perhaps because of it, she flexed her upper-crossed foot, pointing the toe to the ceiling to form little ripples of womanly muscle along the length of her calf. The crimson stiletto slipped off her heel, revealing the dark stitching of her fully-fashioned stocking, the seam running fully along the sole of her foot to the reinforced toe. The shoe dangled from her delicate toes, swinging lazily from the subtle up-and-down cycling of her foot.

She knew what he was thinking, of that he was certain, and she was playing into his weakness, her shoe play clearly aimed at mesmerizing him, trapping him in her pheromonic prison from which there could be no escape.

The shoe dangle was a tell, of that he was certain. She was hunting. If her quarry was into legs or nylons, or shoes or feet, the shoe dangle would inevitably betray him. He did not disappoint.

In that moment, each knew the other was in the game. All he had to do is seal the deal and not make any stupid mistakes. Simpson made a mental note to text his wife he'd be staying the weekend.

"Mister?" she said.

I'm up here, she seemed to be saying.

Embarrassed out of his fantasy, his eyes darted to her face. There was a hint of amusement there.

He held out his hand. "Pete Simpson."

She took it. "Abby. Abby Irwin."

"Abby. A beautiful name. You don't see that name very often."

"You're too kind."

His eyes darted to her soft deep cleavage.

As if to draw him back to her face, she picked up her drink and held it in front of her breasts for a moment. She looked into his eyes as she sipped from her straw. Her glossy crimson lips puckered around the little purple straw, drawing a tiny amount of the liquid into her mouth, leaving her luscious lips unmarred.

"Not at all." He was tongue tied - a new experience for him.

Those legs, that face, the swell of her breasts. Those lips.

He pictured those lips pursed around the head of his swollen cock, working their way down, down his shaft, her tongue slipping into that soft orgasmic zone of his needy manhood, sucking it in, in, in.

Mesmerizing.

She put down her drink. "I sure hope my girlfriend shows up soon. She's taking me shopping and I can't wait to hit some of the stores up Madison."

"You're not from here then?"

"Oh goodness no. This is my first time in the Big Apple. Isn't it great?" He smiled. Her youthful enthusiasm for the city was cute. Charming even. It was an attribute he hadn't expected in such a gorgeous, elegant woman in the heart of the city.

"Yes, I love coming here," he said. It was a lie. Simpson hated New York. But that was not an emotion he wanted to convey in this conversation.

"Me too. Gosh, I've read and heard so much about it. New York is everything I ever thought it would be. I'm so excited! So you're not from here, huh?"

"I'm from California."

"Oooo, California. I've always wanted to see the west coast. Never been. Is it just as great as it looks in the movies?"

Inwardly Simpson winced, disappointed. This wasn't going to be the witty back-and-forth repartee prelude to sex that he'd hoped for.

Maybe that would make it easier to bed her, he thought. "I wish I could show you sometime. I think you'd love it."

"I can't wait to see Hollywood. The Walk of Fame. Just think. All those stars!"

Hollywood.

He hadn't been to Hollywood in twenty years.

Like most New Yorkers who never go to Times Square, Hollywood fills him with horror.

"Well perhaps if you ever get there, you can look me up and I'll show you around."

"Thanks! Maybe I will."

"Meanwhile, it seems your friend isn't coming."

She sighed. "No, I suppose not. This was supposed to be a girls' weekend in the big city."

"Ah. Your husbands are too busy to come?"

Abby's face reddened, just a little. "Our husbands. Yeah."

"Trouble in paradise?"

There was no answer to that.

"So, what do you do Pete?"

"I'm the CEO for an Artificial Intelligence developer."

"Oooo. I love smart guys. Tell me more."

Simpson weighed his options, debating how much to say without boring her. Boredom is the death of seduction.

"We've got some pretty good tech now. So good you can't even tell the computer from a person."

"Really? That's kinda scary, don't you think?"

"Not when you think about it. We've installed controls. Safeguards if you will. Have you ever read Isaac Asimov?"

"Sounds like a cocktail I once tried."

Good lord.

"Asimov devised the three laws of robotics."

He was teetering on the edge boring her here. But this was where he'd allowed the conversation to wander, so he had to make it work.

"One - A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm."

"I like that one," Abby said. "I don't know if I'd feel safe around a robot all the time."

People are worse.

"Two - A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law."

"Okay. So I get to boss it around, but I can't order it to kill someone."

That pretty much sums it up.

"Three - A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law."

She smiled. "So no jumping off a cliff with its owner then?"

Maybe she's smarter than she's letting on.

"So you see? These laws are built into all our tech. We're safe and sound with our AI tech to serve us well."

"That sure is a relief." She took another sip of her Vesper. Setting it down, she looked up at him. "Say Pete, I'm going to the ladies room. Will you watch my drink?"

He smiled. "Of course."

The swish of her nylons filled the space around them as she stood. Her skirt was so short it brushed the tabletop.

Fuck, those legs.

So long, so lean, her leg muscles in all the right places. He felt faint at the thought of having those legs wrapped around his neck, making her mew like a kitten as he plows into her hot, wet pussy.

He stood, ever the gentleman. He was surprised to see she topped him by three or four inches. The stilettos helped, but she was an Amazon to be sure.

"Be right back!" she chirped with a big smile.

The eyes of every man in the room tracked Abby for the seventy feet to the exit. Well north of six feet in five-inch stiletto FM heels, Abby flaunted the long lean curves of her magnificent legs, beautifully adorned in the finest European fully-fashioned seamed stockings. The soft sexy sway of her hips gave a little swing to the hemline of her short silk skirt, drawing the eye to her full round bottom framed by the white-blonde tresses falling in massive waves to her wasp-like waist.

His rock-hard dick was sliding up between those ass cheeks into her eager soaking pussy. He was draped over her back, grasping those huge firm breasts even as her firm round ass pressed into his body, grasping, sucking, squeeeeeeeezing him to orgasm while she built herself into her own state of pure ecstasy...

"Thanks for waiting, Pete!" He turned his head to follow her to the chair. But she didn't sit. "I'm so embarrassed," she said. "I've got a horrible run in my nylons. See?" She turned three-quarters away from him and looking down, she set her fingers on her nylon thigh, a clear invitation for him to look at her legs. Indeed, there was a long, wide ladder in her left stocking.

"This is so awful. Here in this beautiful lounge in the heart of New York City, and I've got a run in my nylons big enough to tow a Volkswagen!"

It was an odd reference, but he used the opportunity to admire her legs without embarrassment. His eyes lingered much longer than he needed to observe the run in her stocking.

She noticed. "You're a leg man, aren't you?"

Startled, he looked into her face. The smile on her face was innocent and yet somehow - seductive. He wasn't sure if she was annoyed or complimented... or turned on.

He decided to swing for the fences. "It's true. But honestly Abby, you have a truly spectacular pair of legs."

"You think?"

"Oh I know. And I'm an expert."

"So you're a leg expert?"

"Trust me. I've never seen better."

She gifted him with a dazzling smile. "Why thank you! They're no accident, tell me tell you. I work on these babies like you wouldn't believe. Hours and hours in the gym."

"And yet, you don't have a spare pair of pantyhose."

She giggled. "Oh, pantyhose is okay, but these are actually garter stockings. Maison Close. These are the glossy Cut and Curled models, made so you can wear a really short skirt and still wear garters. I'm so proud of them. You can't get these in Austin. I'm kicking myself. I only needed one spare leg. And they're soooo expensive. Oh well."

Simpson queried his company's AI app. "There's an Agent Provocateur store just up Madison. They carry your brand. I'm sure they could help you out."

"Is that a lingerie store? That sounds great. Say! Would you mind coming with me? I'm nervous being by myself in this big rough city."

"Sure. When would you like to go?"

"No time like the present!"

Simpson couldn't believe his luck. He was leaving with this magnificent woman and taking her to one of the city's best luxury lingerie stores. Granted she wasn't about to win a scholarship to Harvard, but somehow he knew she'd be a fantastic enthusiastic fuck.

Feeling the envious eyes of every man there, he escorted her out of the bar, down the stairs and out onto Vanderbilt. In a few moments they had a cab.

As she slid into the back of the taxi, her skirt hiked way up exposing two of her garters. She made no move to retrieve her modesty, choosing instead to cross her legs while making a half-hearted attempt to tug at her hemline. Simpson piled in beside her and gave instructions to the cabbie.

After a short, tumultuous 20-block ride north to the lingerie store, Simpson slid out of the taxi and watched carefully as Abby swung her legs out to the street, resting her heels on the pavement. She'd gifted him with three feet of stunning nylon legs. It was a lovely sight. Taking her hand, he helped her out of the cab and escorted her to the storefront.

"Gosh, Pete, this looks amazing. We don't have anything like this in Austin. I can't wait to see what they've got."

Simpson was thinking the same thing. He was hoping to see her in some of these underthings. Maybe she'd let him pay for everything. That would speak volumes.

Despite her sky-high heels, Abby darted all around the shop, oo'ing and aw'ing at everything, like a kid who'd just discovered FAO Shwartz. Her first target was telling: a skimpy lace corset. Low cut and made of fine silk, it had four garters for each leg.

"Don't you just love this?" She fondled the silk and snapped at the garters, turning her head to invite him into her space. "Gorgeous things like this get me so excited!"

"Would you like to try it on?" the saleswoman asked. Her nametag read 'Jillian'.

"Oh, I don't know if I should. I was just looking. Really." Abby looked at Simpson, a cloud of doubt flashing across her face. "Should I?"

Simpson's hopes that he was going to fuck this minx soared. "I think it would be a crime against humanity if you didn't."

She giggled. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Simpson dearly hoped so.

"Okay, sure, why not? I'll try it on."

"Jillian," Simpson said, pointing to a display. "We decided to come here because Abby's nylons have a run. Abby, you can't try that on without a decent pair of nylons."

"You're right Petey dear. I need nylons, Jillian, I'm desperate for nylons. I need a gorgeous pair of garter nylons. Do you have anything nice with a back seam that I can wear with... a really short skirt?"

"I have just the thing for you Miss. Over here. These gorgeous ultra-sheer nylons from Gio of England come in nude, tan, and black with an authentic back seam, a reinforced welt, 15 denier. These are silky smooth and I can attest, they feel like absolute heaven on your legs. They are some of the best we carry."

"They are lovely. But I want to wear them now. See? I have a run in my nylons and I need something I can wear with this dress. As you can see, it's kinda short for those."

Without embarrassment, Abby pulled up the hemline of her minidress to expose the garters of her tall stockings. She lifted it high enough for Simpson to get a good glimpse of her panties. Simpson had to consciously stop his eyes from going wide at the sight of her full length of leg, her nylons glistening in the LED lights, right up to her pussy.

"I see," Jillian said. "You're right. These won't do. But I have something that will."

She led Abby and Simpson to the back of the store where she opened a drawer and extracted a small package. "We're out of stock of the same nylons you're wearing, but this body stocking will solve your problem for you. And the corset still works - you can detach the garters easily like this. See?"

Jillian removed all the garters and held them in one fist.

Abby took the silky garment. "I've never worn a body stocking before. What's it like?"

"This one is sheer from neck to toe, complete with arms, fingers, and feet."

"So it encases you completely?

Jillian nodded. "From the neck down."

"Wow. What's that feel like?"

Jillian hesitated and glanced at Simpson before responding. Lowering her voice, she explained. "It feels incredibly sexy. The nylon is super glossy and so slippery they're nearly frictionless. They're also wonderfully light and filmy, 10 denier with a back seam, and crotchless for convenience."

"Ohh," Abby said. "Slippery you say?"

Jillian smiled. "I can hardly keep my legs crossed in some chairs, they're so frictionless."

Abby winked at her. "Hmmm. So you're saying while wearing these you can't keep your legs together?"

Jillian shifted onto one foot, clearly not sure how far to take this conversation thread. "Well, I guess you could put it that way."

Abby licked her lips. "I'm getting w... Ooops, um. Yeah. Sure. I - I - I'll - I'd like to try it on. Is that okay? Is it really delicate? Will I ruin it?"

"Oh no. This brand is very, very strong - very hard to rip. Trust me, it's run resistant and will withstand extreme, uh, activity."

Abby sucked in a breath. "How... extreme?"

Simpson was listening to this sexy innuendo between these two gorgeous women, nearly slack-jawed with amazement. His boner was a full-on, raging erection.

"Let's just say," Jillian whispered, being careful not to glance at Simpson, "on me they last several nights of... well, you get the idea."

"You wear them to bed. All night?"

"Oh yes. I love sleeping in a gorgeous sexy bodystocking. I wake up feeling so, uh..."

"Motivated?" Abby said, wide-eyed.

Jillian nodded.

Abby giggled. "That sounds perfect. Can I try it on?"

"Of course. It's very stretchy so we only need two sizes. With your tiny waist, I'll give you a small. But don't worry. It'll stretch around all your... assets... quite nicely."

Simpson's heart picked up a couple beats. He'd give anything to see Abby in this. Just this.

In a flash, Abby disappeared into the dressing room at the back. While Jillian attended to another customer, Simpson thought about his next move.

Obviously Abby liked him. Her apparent distain for her husband was telling. Simpson figured that one of her goals this weekend was to let loose and fulfill a dream to get royally fucked outside the marriage. He was in a good position to be the object of that fling. He had to be careful not to blow it.

As he was casually browsing the store, he heard Abby's voice from the back.

"Pete? Pete are you out there?"

Simpson stepped into the dressing area. There were three doors but only one was closed, presumably with Abby inside. "I'm here Abby."

"Can I ask you a favor? I mean, it's kind of embarrassing when I think about it, but it would really help me out."

"Sure, of course. How can I help?"

"Would you mind looking at me and giving me your honest opinion of how I look? I need a man's opinion. Would that be okay?"

She's kidding right?

"Sure, I'll be as honest as you want me to be."

"Ha! Okay, I'm going to open the door now. Is anybody else out there?"

"Nope. Just me."

"Okay. Here goes."

The door swung open. Simpson nearly came right there.

The oil-shine bodystocking clung to her body like a second skin. She was back in her heels - interesting that she did that - and over the bodystocking she wore the little corset. It was skintight and cut low, almost to her navel, revealing the generous swell of her excessively full and deep cleavage. The bodystocking clung to the curves of her breasts, even to their undersides, defining the full globes of what he estimated to be DD in size at least, possibly more. Even the fingers and arms and feet of the body stocking clung to her like a second skin.

She had fastened the crotchless vent to hide her pussy. He dearly hoped he would see that open, and soon.

Her thick, waist-length platinum blonde hair fell in curly waves to her waist, which was cinched in so tightly Simpson thought he could almost get his hands all the way around it and touch his thumbs and fingers together. Not quite, but close.

He had to consciously drag his eyes up to meet hers. He realized he was beginning to sweat again.

"I guess I don't have to ask," Abby said, her eyes shining with mischief. She glanced down at his crotch.

"Ask?" Simpson said, acutely aware that his raging hard dick was making an outline in his pants. He desperately wished he could secretly adjust it down there, but when he thought about, at least she knew, right? She knew what he wanted.

And she did not seem at all repelled at the sight.

"You know," she said, a hint of whimsey in her voice. "I'm asking if it looks alright. I need to know if I look, if I look..."

"You mean, does it look, um, um." Fuckable, was the word he was trying to avoid saying out loud.

"Pete! You can tell me! Do I look sexy?"

She's kidding, right?

"Oh yes, Abby. Sexy. Yes. Incredible. Yes. You're the sexiest girl I've seen in - I don't know, I, I, I..."

Abby stepped out of the dressing room. In her heels, she was three inches taller than his six feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Her lips were so soft and full and ohh so wet. He was so surprised it took him a second or two to respond. He put his hand on the small of her back and returned the kiss.

Her tongue slipped between his lips. "Mmmm," she murmured. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his eyes. "Can I tell you a little secret?"

Dumbly, he nodded.

"First, let me ask you. Do you believe in fate?"

Obviously not.

"Sometimes Abby. Yes, when everything sort of lines up..."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You get it, don't you honey? See, when I came to New York, I told myself I was going to have a little fling. My husband is always so busy. He never has time away from making money for little me. So I thought, darn it, I'm going to New York to spread my wings a bit. And on my first afternoon here, just as I was sitting down for a drink in a sexy bar to plot my game plan with my girlfriend, you come along."

"Uh, I never really thought about it that way..."

"I do. My girlfriend being late... you being there to pick up the slack. The stars aligned, right there. That was fate."

"Yes," Simpson said, hoping seal the deal quickly. "Fate."

"See? You do believe." She lowered her voice. "Are you game? Do you think you can handle me? 'Cause I have to warn you; I'm quite a handful when I really get going."

This is going to be the greatest fuck of my life. A lot better than some 18-year-old intern slut.

"Yes, yes of course. Frankly Abby, I think it's you that should be warned. I'm quite insatiable when I have a gorgeous woman in my bed."

"So you're experienced in the ways of loving making, are you?"

Simpson didn't know what she wanted to hear. But, he decided, a fling is just that, and she doesn't want to waste her time with someone who has no idea what he's doing in the bedroom.

"Let's just say, no woman has ever left my bed unhappy."

Abby took a deep breath. "That seals it mister. Let's get the hell out of here."

Simpson felt a little faint.

Abby grabbed his arm. "Let's compare notes. Who's got the better room?"

"The better room?"

"Yes silly. Let's just get the dance out of the way. If we're going to have sex, we're going to need a room. You do want to have sex with me, don't you?"

"Ohh. Yes, Abby, yes definitely. Absolutely."

"Well that's good, because I'm horny and we've sure got the opportunity."

"Fuck," Simpson thought. "She's serious." He forced himself to get it together. "Where were we? Oh right. Well, I'm at the downtown Hilton."

Abby grinned. "I have a suite at the St. Regis. I guess I win."

"You do indeed."

"Can I let you in on another secret?"

"I'm all ears."

"Gorgeous, luxury hotel rooms make me horny as fuck." She giggled. "That's why I splurged to get it. As soon as I walked in that door, I knew I was going to have a really, really good time there."

Simpson nodded, not believing his luck. "Good choice."

She held his gaze, tightening her grip around Simpson's neck. "So Pete. Do you wanna come back to my place and get your brains fucked out?"

Simpson swallowed hard and nodded.

She kissed the tip of his nose. "I'm getting all flustered. I'm not usually this forward. It's this city. You can blame New York. Let me put on my dress and we'll get outta here."

"Okay honey. I'll pay while you get yourself ready."

"You're buying this? For me?"

"No, I'm buying it for me. Keep it on. Just put on the dress and I'll see you in couple."

"Okay, baby. I can't wait! But I was thinking - can I have a couple of pairs of those Gio nylons Jillian showed us too? They're so sexy, I really -."

"Absolutely. I'll have Jillian add them to the order."

Abby stepped up to Simpson, brushing her heavy breasts over his chest. She cradled his face in her hands and bent down to give him a soft, short kiss on the lips. "Thank you baby. Don't you worry, you'll see me in those. Real soon."

Abby turned and stepped back into the change room. The door closed and Simpson stood for a moment, composing himself. His hardon needed time to relax. He couldn't believe his luck.

Simpson pulled out his phone and dashed off a text to Sheila.

Business connection made. I'll be back Monday. Love you.

He figured the artist will spend the weekend in his bed. He'd better enjoy it, Simpson thought, because he won't have a life when he gets back. Maybe washing dishes.

He handed his credit card to Jillian. The one Sheila knows nothing about.

Two days and nights should be enough.

Jillian handed him the small bag holding the eight garters. Abby's little clutch purse was sitting on the counter so he opened it to deposit the little bag. Inside her purse, he noticed a folded piece of paper the size of a large Post-it note. At the bottom of the note peeked out a handwritten name, the first name signature of the person who'd written the message that was obscured from his view.

Simpson's blood turned cold when he read the name.

Steve.

As in, Steve Jenson, CEO of Replicant Industries. One of the Two J's. Right? It had to be. Simpson didn't believe in coincidences.

He glanced over his shoulder and poked the note open with his index finger. It's contents were brief and to the point.

Campbell Apartment Bar. 4:30. Blue and white tie - Steve.

Simpson dropped the garters into her purse and closed it. His instinctively looked to his blue and white tie, thinking quickly.

Abby was a set up - a honey trap. The Two J's are definitely ruthless, he thought. They were using Abby to get him into a compromising situation. Maybe to extract information at the peak of lust. Or maybe they're filming. Or both. Her bit about who's got the best hotel. About how luxury hotel rooms make her horny as fuck, with she having a suite at the St. Regis. It all made sense. The room was rigged with cameras and sound. She was playing him.

Briefly Simpson thought about leaving the store right then. Leaving the bitch in the lurch. But then he considered: may he can have a little fun at Abby's expense. Fuck her senseless and give her nothing in return. Knowing she's a honey trap will give him the edge he needs to win this little encounter.

The Two J's probably thought Simpson would pay anything, give any information to keep the video off You Tube. They were wrong. He'd sue them for $20 billion and have their company before that video ever got out. He'd wear a wire at their next meeting and get the proof. After they show him the video, he'll play their words back for them before he slides over a Notice of Intent to Sue.

Simpson smiled to himself.

This is going to be fun.

Abby came bounding out. She was holding the nylons she'd been wearing. These she stuffed into the bag with the two pairs of stockings Simpson had bought, plus the eight garters from the corset. Her clutch purse was too small, so she carried the bag.

In the back of another cab, Abby made her first real move. She placed a nylon-gloved hand on Simpson's thigh, curled her fingernails into his pants and gently clawed his skin. She turned to face at him and he could see the want in her eyes.

She seemed to be getting visibly hornier as Simpson watched her.

***

Simpson

I hustled Abby into the St. Regis elevator. This instant the door closed, she wrapped her arms around my neck, pushed me against the cab wall, and pressed her lips to mine. "Mmmm. I know I'm not very smart..."

"Ridiculous. You..."

She put a finger to my lips. "No, I know it. But there is something I'm really good at. Do you know what that is?"

I looked down into her glorious cleavage. "I can guess."

"You guessed right. I am one mind-boggling, incredible, fantastic fuck. I love, love, luuuuuuv sex. I think about sex literally all the time. And I'm really, really, really fucking good at it. You're not my first fling baby. You're in for a real treat. All I ask is - do your best to keep up because once I get going, you're not getting out of my clutches for a very long time. So save your strength. You're going to need it."

My mouth went dry. The thought of this stunning sexy Amazon going wild for my body nearly made me cum in the elevator. The fact that I was onto her game made it all the more delicious.

"That's amazing Abby. Simply..."

"I hope you like to eat pussy, baby, because I looooove cock in my mouth. I can't wait to taste you."

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. This stunner is going to fuck me brainless and I'm going to get paid for it. Big time.

The elevator door opened. I had to forcibly break our kiss to get her to move into the hallway. She led the way, holding my arm tightly and pulling me down the corridor to her room.

We burst into Abby's suite. She tossed the little bag containing her nylons onto the bed. We slammed into each other. My mouth closed in on her neck. She swooned, crying out. I reached to her back and pulled down the zipper. She ripped off my tie, yanking my jacket off my shoulders. Feverously, she went to work on my belt. I kicked off my shoes, but Abby left hers on. When my hands went to the clasps on her corset, she grabbed my wrists with surprising strength and shook her head.

"I wanna keep my bodystocking, shoes and corset," she gasped between heaving breaths. "They make me feel sexy."

Fuck. I needed to be smothered in those spectacular breasts. I needed her rock-hard nipples in my mouth. But if her corset makes her horny, then so be it. My plunder of her fully naked body would come later.

Before I realized, my outer clothes were completely off. Abby licked her lips and stared at the tent in my underwear.

"Yummy!" she said, her hands reaching for my waistband.

She ripped them down my legs and pushed me backwards onto the bed so fast I could barely react.

But then she paused, taking her time to savor the moment. I lay there amongst the scattered sheets and pillows watching her slow down. She was fully decked out in full fetish wear. Her breasts were full and soft, her legs lean and long, her white hair thick and wavy.

Her fat, crimson, cocksucking lips were puckered into a kiss.

"Wait for me baby. I'm going to get even sexier for you."

Huh? "Honey, that's impossible. You can't possibly get any -."

"Watch me."

Abby turned and picked up the bag from Agent Provocateur. Reaching inside, she extracted the eight little garters that had come with her new corset. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what she was going to do.

Even if she is one of the sexiest women I've ever laid eyes on, bar none, she's motivated to take her sex quotient even higher.

She's intricately planned a sexy weekend. And I'm going to give it to her, but good.

I watched Abby as she carefully reattached each garter to the corset, four per leg. Stepping to the edge of the bed, just inches from me, she kicked off one of her stilettos and placed her foot on the bed beside my hip. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out the little square packages containing her new nylons. With one crimson talon, she sliced the tape holding the package together and pulled out a little baggy containing a pair of luxury seamed English nylons.

Opening it, she extracted two extremely long, diaphanous nylons and held them high above my prone naked form. She hung them above my face, letting them dangle just above me. They were so light, so transparent, they seemed to be made of air, wafting in the tiny breeze of the hotel air conditioning. Slowly, luxuriously, she lowered the nylons onto my skin, brushing them over my face and down my chest. Little electric sparks seemed to leap out of my body on contact, and my cock throbbed and bounced with anticipation as she slowly swept the nylons towards my groin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her face was a mask of slutty lust. She was enjoying the effect her nylons had on my body.

Abby continued to sweep her nylons up and down my body for a few moments before dropping one of them onto my cock and balls, letting it gather into a little pile, covering most of my rock-hard erection. The little pile pulsed up and down with the throbbing of my needy cock.

She smiled at the little bouncing pile of nylon at my crotch.

"Oooo, you like the feel of nylons on your skin, don't you baby?" she said. "Let's see what we can do with that."

She took out the other package of nylons, opened it and tossed the pair onto my chest. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she picked up the nylon stocking piled on top of my cock and slid the open end over my rod and down around my balls. With her long crimson fingernails, she drew the stocking along the length of my rod, watching the reinforced toe creep along my chest and down my stomach, gathering the nylon around the base of my cock.

When the head of my cock was encased in the dark toe of her stocking, she gripped the length of my shaft in her lacey gloved hand and began to stroke me.

Alarmed I might cum way too fast, I tore my eyes away from the sexy scene playing at my crotch and looked into her eyes. They shone what I can only describe as triumphant lust. Her mastery of me had taken only seconds, her only tool an ultra-light nylon stocking and five long fingers wrapped around my throbbing rod.

She licked her fat, juicy lips and smiled. "You like that, don't you? Well, there's so much more for you, baby. So very, very much more."

She released my twitching member, letting it flop onto my stomach. Picking up one of the loose nylons on my chest, she placed her toes into the welt and dragged the nylon stocking up her leg. It's passage was eased by the nearly frictionless bodystocking. When she had the welt at the top of her leg, she carefully fastened each of the little garters, making the glossy, ultra-sheer stocking tight and secure.

Finished with that one, she changed legs. Only this time, Abby placed her delicate arched foot on my chest. She wiggled her toes, five little digits perfectly painted with crimson nail polish, tightly packed inside the skin-tight nylon.

This time she handed the stocking to me. "You do it, baby. Slip that sexy leg slut up my to my pussy and tie it off, nice and tight. Will you do that for me, baby?"

Leg sluts. That's what she called her nylons. I couldn't agree more.

I backed up on the bed, propping myself on the headboard with a couple of pillows. Silently, she handed me the stocking and picked up her foot. I slid the nylon up her leg, past her knees and right up to her pussy. She pushed her hips forward, giving me access to her garters. One at a time, I fumbled with the garters, several not holding until I got them right.

When I finally got her nylon stocking fastened and secure, Abby stepped back into her stilettos and stood beside the bed with her hands on her hips, her lips formed into a glistening pout. Heels, bodystocking, nylons, corset, lacey opera gloves.

Fuck she's sexy. I'm gonna fuck this stunning sexual creature. I'm gonna fuck her all evening and all night long. I'm going to fuck her all next morning. And afternoon. And the night after that. She's not getting out of this room anytime soon. I'm gonna fuck her 'til Monday. She's going to suck my cock with those juicy lips and I'm going to cum inside that incredible sexy mouth. Anytime I want.

She thinks she's getting great film so the Two J's can blackmail my ass. I can't wait to see their faces when I turn the tables; when I play my recording of their demands. I'd pay money to see Abby's face when she learns she fucked me all weekend long - for nothing.

Fuck yeah. I'm going to drive my fat cock up that juicy ass of hers and make her squeal. Even if she's never done anal before. If she resists, well I figure I'm stronger than her. Right? And she'll do it, because Replicant Industries is paying her to do it. I just have to remember I'm on tape and I can't appear to be forcing her.

This is going to be great.

"Jensen and Jackson didn't look like this, did they baby?"

What did she just say? She's spilling the beans?

I sat up and fixed a stare on her. "How do you know Jensen and Jackson? Abby?"

She smiled and licked her lips. "I heard you silly. When they left I was kinda hoping I might get a chance at you."

"That lipstick."

"Pretty good, huh? Rolled it right to your foot."

I took a deep breath. There was a lot more to this woman than I'd given her credit for. Maybe she thinks I suspect her game. Trying to give me a credible explanation for her actions.

As if she could read my thoughts, she put one knee onto the mattress and crawled onto the foot of the bed, like a blonde panther stalking its prey. The dim LED light of the single lamp glinted in the curved lean lines of her oil-shine legs. Her fit, womanly leg muscles tensed and flexed under the nylon, readying her. The alpha-predator female, this incredibly sexy creature, my unstoppable Succubus, was preparing to pounce, to leap upon my prone form and take me for herself.

Up my body she crawled, her glorious breasts suspended over my knees, her massive globes ready for cock.

Tit fuck. She'd need a really good tit fuck too.

Oh yes I will.

The other hand went to the bed, followed by the other knee. She was on all fours, advancing on me, straddling my legs. She licked her glossy red lips. A tiny stream of drool escaped and splattered onto my shin. Her breasts heaved in anticipation. She was hungry. Starving for my twitching cock. And she was going to get it.

Big time.

But I was worried.

I've never fucked anyone this gorgeous, this sexy, this so spectacularly horny before. This creature was built for sex. She's a custom-made orgasmatron.

Insert here and cum.

I was worried I'd cum too soon. In fact, I'd nearly blown my load when she took off her dress.

"Ohh Pete. I want you so bad," she cried. "I need you inside me. Oh fuck, oh fuck yes. I'm going fuck you so hard. I'm going to ravish you. I'm going to make you mine, all mine. I'm going to fuck you so long and hard you may never fuck again."

She raced up my body, laying fully prone atop me, and jammed her tongue into my mouth. She held my head immobile as she made every attempt to get her tongue all the way down my throat as she made little "Mmmm" sounds, doing her best to rape my face.

Her thighs found my throbbing dick and trapped it in their oil-shine prison. I imagined it poking up through that Toblerone triangle beneath her pussy and right up to her firm, round ass. The nylon felt so sexy on my shaft. So slippery, so damn feminine.

I put my hands on her gorgeous bum and squeezed. She tensed for a moment, then melted. Her body sank around me, absorbing me, smothering me into the soft bed. She wound both her arms around my head and pressed her lips to mine, trapping me completely in her womanly flesh.

I began a series of thrusts between her legs. It felt soooo good. Damn the embarrassment. I needed to cum.

She crossed her legs around my dick, apparently enjoying its feel on her legs.

But she was squeezing too hard. Too fucking hard. Those thighs, those thousands of hours in the gym. They made her thighs rock hard. And she's squeeeeeeeezing them around my shaft. And stroking, lifting her hips up and letting them fall. Rise and fall. Rise and fall.

She pulled her tongue out of my throat and dove for my neck, gnawing and chewing on the sensitive skin in the soft, orgasmic part that drives me insane. Then back to my face, a series of soft, wet kisses all over my mouth, my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead. Tonguey little kisses. Overwhelming me, swamping me in her juices.

"Mmmm, Pete, you're so delicious. I could eat you right up. Ohh, I just want to squeeeeeze you into me."

Abby rolled me over, pulling me on top. She wrapped her stunning body around me, her long nylon legs around my hips; her arms around my torso. She locked her ankles and arms behind my back, trapping me in an unbreakable hold. Pulling my mouth to her fat juicy lips, she slid her long, hot tongue into my mouth and I sank into her, drowning in a fog of lust. But before I could maneuver my dick to the entrance of her pussy, she rolled me onto my back again, rubbing her clit up and down my length.

I was going to cum. No question I was going to blast a load before I even got to slide my needy cock inside her seething tunnel.

But I can come back fast. Right?

Especially with this purely sexual creature so motivated to fuck me stupid.

She squeezed my dick between our bodies.

She squeezed my head between her hands.

Again her kisses turned rapid. Dozens of little kisses, all over my face. She was slobbering now, in high heat, her chest heaving with anticipation.

Time.

I tried to roll her over, to get her on her back, worm those stunning legs apart and slip my dick into high heaven. That was my goal. That's where I wanted to cum.

But she wouldn't let me.

I seriously could not budge her.

She backed away from lavishing my face with kisses and smiled. "I like being on top."

She released her legs and pushed off my chest with both hands, rising up and straddling my midsection. I put my hands on her nylon thighs, feeling the electric touch of her silky smooth nylons stretched taut over her legs. She smiled down on me and licked her lips.

Abby lifted her core and reached under her pussy to grab my shaft.

This is it. This is the start of the greatest fuck of my life.

No phones. No work. No room maid.

No interruptions.

She held my cock in her long, nylon fingers and squeezed it gently, as if testing my hardness. It was still encased in her nylon stocking.

That wasn't going to be a problem.

She enjoyed toying with me. Stroking and playing with my cock just below her pussy. Sliding those slippery fingers up and down, over and over, making a fist, stroking my cock, building me into a horny lather of yearning, desperate to feel her soft wet cunt absorb my rod, to feel her velvet snatch work my shaft, to have her pussy slide up and down, up and down, up and down.

But she had me trapped. I couldn't make it happen on my own. I was at her mercy. It seemed we were only going to fuck if she wanted it.

I needed her to fuck me.

Just get on with it. Come on, slide it in.

As if reading my thoughts, she grinned. Big toothy grin.

She straddled me, holding my prick beneath her with one sheer nylon hand right at the entrance to her dripping hot tunnel.

And she was grinning.

She played with my dick, brushing its head along her slit. Building the anticipation. Stimulating her clit. Making me even hornier. Getting me desperate.

She likes to be in control. Okay, I can grant her that.

But if she makes a mistake, I'm one hard thrust from sinking my rod deep into her soaking pussy.

After I've cum once and recovered, I'm gonna to go to work. I'm gonna fuck her so hard, I'm gonna roll her over and drive my dick right up that firm round ass. Whether she wants it or not. If she screams at me to stop, I'll plough her even harder just to shut her up. Eventually she's gonna beg for it and I'll deliver. Over and over and over until I'm done. Until I've had enough. Her wants and needs don't come into the equation. She'll take it and she'll tell me she wants it, because the Two J's are paying her.

The head of my dick was in her fist, working her clit. She swirled it all around, squeezing her eyes shut in ecstasy. She was using my cock to make her cum, to tickle her clit with the head of my dick. And after she cums, we'll fuck.

Okay, I can live with that.

Her magnificent body began to rotate above me. Those stunning legs went to work, rising and falling, again and again, just enough to slide the head of my dick up and down her slit, building her into a steamy lather. Her grip on my shaft tightened. Her stroking speed increased. The head of my cock was slipping and sliding all around her clit, harder, faster.

Soon she'd push on the end of my cock, to the mouth of her pussy. On the next stroke, I'll shove it in.

Her heavy nylon-clad breasts hung just a above me. I grabbed hold and caressed them, not so gently. When I slid my thumb across her granite nipples, she swooned, nearly falling forward in sheer pleasure.

I was beginning to go mad with lust. I was so horny, so needy, so fucking hot. But she wasn't rubbing my dick hard enough to make me cum. She had me under her control. Her legs were too strong, her pussy too tantalizing.

She's in charge. She's in charge. She's in charge.

I tried to roll her, but there was nothing I could do. She had me entirely in her power.

And she was soooo strong! I hadn't counted on her being so fucking strong.

And then, she exploded. She'd been using the head of my dick to massage her clit into a delirium of pleasure.

Oh fuck did she cum.

She screamed, as if wracked in agony. But I knew it was ecstasy. Her entire body shook and convulsed above me. Her grip on the base of my cock turned into a vise. She'd wrapped her thumb and forefinger around me so hard, so tight, she'd cut off all possibility of orgasm, of all feeling. For now.

Abby was going absolutely insane. As one hand gripped my shaft, the other was deep inside her snatch, working, manipulating, sliding her fingers in and out, over and over, hard, deep, wet. A torrent of femcum flooded my cock and balls, gushing around her fingers and soaking the bed.

While droving her mouth back onto mine, she lifted her ass high in the air then slammed it down, still working her fingers in and out of her cunt with reckless violence.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh," she grunted into my mouth as her self-administered full-body orgasm rolled over her. She was cumming so hard she couldn't even concentrate on meeting my mouth. Her lips just kept working, gumming my face and slobbering all over me.

The corset had pushed her breasts up high. So high and round and firm. So soft, so pillowy soft and luxurious. So beautiful, so magnetic.

With every heaving breath, her breasts caressed my chest. I grabbed them in both hands and squeezed them together, driving my nose between those glorious globes of flesh. Her free hand went to the back of my head and pulled me deeper, deeper into those magnificent tits. Only an hour ago I was ogling them in the cocktail lounge. Now I was in absolute lustful breast heaven.

She never stopped moving. She was a relentless, horny sex machine. Her body rotated, on and on and on, her legs never stopped rising and falling, her hand resumed stroking my shaft. Just enough, just enough to keep me panting, raving, hard, so, so fucking hard, but not to cum, not allowed, she wasn't letting me cum.

I need to cum. She just came. Why can't I?

"Abby, baby, let me cum. Come on. You just did. Please baby, stroke me harder. Or fuck me. Either way, I neeeeeed to cum."

She smiled. A knowing little smile. A smile that holds all the cards.

"Oh no, baby. Oh no, no, no, you don't get to cum. No, no, no, no, no. Don't you worry, we're going to fuck. Oh yes. I'm going to fuck you real soon. I'm going to fuck you hard and long and deep and wet. You're going to make me cum and cum and cum and cum. Oh baby yes. I'm gonna fuck you silly, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you stupid and silly and brainless and pliant."

Pliant?

She licked my face, leaving a long wet stream of saliva from chin to forehead. Gathering herself, she rose up and held my dick upright, right at the entrance. Right there, ready for Nirvana.

She grinned. That toothy, shit-eating grin again.

My eyes pleaded. My breathing turned labored and deep.

Oh please, please, please. Don't be a cock tease. That's not what I came for. Oh please let me fuck you. I need, need, neeeeeeed to fuck you so hard and long and deep. Those legs. I need those incredible legs wrapped around me. Pulling me deep. The greatest legs in the universe dedicated to making me cum and cum and cum. I need my throbbing cock inside your hot, wet, seething tunnel. Please. Pleeeeeaase!

"Okay baby, you asked for it. Here it comes."

At last! She sank down on my throbbing shaft. Her cunt swallowed me whole, enveloping my rod in her soft, sweet, hot, velvety vagina.

Oh my fucking Lilith. I was in pussy heaven. Her honied tunnel was so luxurious. So soft and firm and tight and deep. So pillowy soft, so deep inside her, so wet, so velvety, so, so delicious. Perfectly sized for my cock. Just tight enough, like her cunt were made for my cock. Perfect, perfect, velvety perfect and hot and tight and syrupy. Squeeeeeeezing me in all the right places, the back of her pussy pushing into my glans, pushing and releasing, pushing and releasing, massaging the soft orgasmic part of me - how does she do that? - stroking me.

Heaven. Heaven. Heaven.

If only I'd known. I've never been inside a pussy like Abby's. What ecstasy she delivers! Pure magic. Perfect. So perfect. So many sex muscles. So perfectly attuned to fucking. She's a pure, ravishing, horny fuck machine.

She stroked up and down, those legs working my shaft, her hands on my chest, her expression full of lust and joy and determination and control, control, control, control...

My hands were all over her, sliding around her nylon body. Her legs, her waist, her breasts. Her magnificent tight ass.

I'm going to fuck that too.

Fuck! Her pussy feels so, so, soooo good. She's a magician, a witch, a crafty horny slut.

This is turning out to be the greatest fuck of my life.

On and on and on she stroked my shaft with her magic pussy, rising and falling, rising and falling, rising and falling. Keeping me right there, right on the brink of cumming. So close, so very, very close. So ready to cum.

Oh sweet Lilith I needed to cum inside her glorious sexy body. I needed that so bad. Never, ever have I needed to cum so bad.

That hot, wet, tight pussy. So slick and slippery. So clingy and hot. That incredible body looming over me, fucking me senseless.

I thrust upwards, just enough I'd hoped, to get some friction and pressure to take me over the edge. To let me cum into her hot sweet pussy.

It wasn't enough.

She was in complete control. She was using my body like a living dildo.

She lapsed into a tantric rhythm, never breaking cadence. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, in bliss, her body straddling me, rising and falling, hands on my chest. On and on she cycled her body on my iron shaft. Sliding down and back on the instroke, up and forward on the outstroke, slowly, ohh so slowly, over and over and over, each cycle five seconds or more, keeping me there, on the edge, throbbing, needy, ready...

My shaft twitched and throbbed deep, deep inside of her. I was getting desperate, so completely ready to blast a hot steaming load of cum far into that magnificent roiling, wet, velvety pussy.

The erotic sight of this glorious woman, eager and horny for transcendent sex, this gorgeous sex machine, straddling me, rising and falling, so ready and lustful for sex. Sex with me. Long, lustful, stroking sex. Heaving sex. Panting sex. Desperate sex.

Glorious sex.

Here it comes. Here it comes. I felt the magma building in my core, in my balls, so ready to cum, getting close, right to the point of no return, electric pulses racing up and down my shaft, boiling, throbbing, pulsing, throwing my brain into a delirium of horny need.

Nine point seven. Ready, so ready to cum. My toes began to curl.

Nine point eight. Here it comes. Oh this is going to be absolutely fucking epic. I watched her porn-star body, cycling above me, sliding up and down my throbbing shaft. I'm going to blow into her so fucking hard. My heart began to pound.

Nine point nine. Right at the point of no return. She's a witch. A sorceress. My horny Succubus, taking my sex, stealing my throbbing cock, hers for the plunder. So ready, so ready. Her edging of me was so worth it! One more thrust. One more squeeze. One more stroke. I'm gonna blow. And then I'll take over. Fuck her my way. Again and again and again. Plough her in half.

Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. I began to see stars. I felt faint.

Gotta cum, gotta cum, gonna cum now, now, NOW!

Those huge, soft, magnificent globes of sex above me. Her nipples, rock hard and pushing through the thin silk of her sexy corset, as if ready to tear it apart, to burst through. Her throbbing, pulsing nipples. I'll have my mouth on those naked nipples soon, soon, soon...

Nine point nine five. Point nine nine. Nine point nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine. Gonna cum, gonna cum, gotta cum, gotta cum, yes, yes, yes, here it comes, ready to explode now, now, now!!!

... NO!!!!

She's a witch. She knows. She knows exactly where I am!

She clasped the root of my cock inside her thumb and forefinger and squeeeeeeezed it with stunning force.

And her pussy released every bit of pressure around the length of my shaft as if I wasn't even inside of her. All her tightness, her velvety embrace, her damp clinging of my throbbing shaft.

GONE!!!

SHE DENIED ME!

"Abby!" I screamed, desperate for release. "No! Let me go! Let me cum, baby please. Please, please, please make me cum! Let me cum. Oh God, I have to cum."

I realized my voice was pleading. No shit. I'm desperate. I'll do anything, say anything. What does she want from me?

She looked down upon my helpless horny form. She was no longer smiling. Her face had turned - cunning.

"Don't you worry, baby. You hold still while your Abby takes gooood care of you. I don't want you to cum yet. Because I'm going to fuck you all night long Petey baby. All night long. So I need you nice and hard for me. Don't you want to fuck me all weekend? You'd love to fuck me for two days and nights, wouldn't you? Isn't that what you came for?"

All I could do was nod.

"That's very good Petey. Me too. I came to this town to get fucked. To get fucked good and hard and long. When I step off that plane in Austin on Monday, I want my pussy to feel worn out and sore and used. I want to tell my girlfriends that I went to New York and I got royally, totally, thoroughly FUCKED. You want that too, don't you baby?"

I nodded.

"Very good. But you have to do as I say."

"Do as you say?"

"Of course. I'm in charge. I'm in control. I'M fucking YOU. I'll decide when and if you get to cum."

"Wait a minute. IF?"

"Oh yes. If. IF you're good. IF you make me cum enough. IF you obey me, IF you fulfill my every desire, I may let you cum. But you have to satisfy me. Make me cum as much as I want. And when I'm satisfied, when my body can't take another orgasm, I may let you cum."

What kind of honey trap game is she playing?

"Now just a minute." I propped my upper body up on my elbows. Pushing hard on one foot, I made a move to roll her onto her back. It was time to forcibly roll the bitch over and fuck her good. Fuck her hard. Teach her a lesson in how to get seriously fucked. In how a man takes charge.

But she held firm. Her legs were like iron. Those endless hours she'd described. Endless hours in the gym. They made her strong, tough, resilient.

"No, no, no, no, no. I don't think so, Pete. This is about what I want. You're not about to slam your big fat rod deep inside me and cum into my clean, sweet pussy, then roll over and go to sleep. Oh no, no, no. You're not doing that."

"But Abby. Baby. That's not what I want. I want to please you. I want to make you cum. Over and over and over. Please let me. Let me fuck you good and proper."

She sighed. "You men are all the same. You think you're this great lover. You think you can satisfy me? Me? Well not without my help, you can't. I know what I like. I know what I need. And I need you hard, and horny. I need your brain. I need to know your brain is tuned to my pussy. One hundred percent dedicated to making my pussy sing. If I let you cum too soon, well, I know what happens."

"No, that's not it. It's not like that. I won't..."

"Shush now!" It came out harsh. She pounded her fist into my chest. I was shocked into silence. "All men are the same. I'd decided, that for this trip, it's all about Abby. When I go home, I'll be the one satisfied for once. I've fucked too many guys who were in it just for their own pleasure. They just fuck me and roll over. And me? I get fuck all out of the whole deal. Well, that's over.

"No more talking. I'm going to fuck you the way I like it. My way. Long and slow and delicious, maximizing my pleasure so I get to cum at my pace."

She began to stroke. Again. Up and down, rising and falling.

This isn't happening. This broad is really psycho. And she's got me. I can't get out from under her. She's actually stronger than me. I can't hit her. Maybe next time she cums, I can roll over, buck her off and jump on her hard. Fuck her my way. That ass looks pretty delicious. I'll distract her, then make my move...

"Abby look. I've done this before, you know. I've..."

"Goddam it!" she said, her face turning angry. "How am I going to get into a horny state if you keep talking? That's enough out of you." Abby paused to look around. "Where the hell is that bag? Oh good, here it is."

She reached above my head, pushing her tits in my face and grabbed the little bag from the store. The one that had the eight little garters. And something else.

Before I had a chance to suck a nipple into my mouth, she raised up and reaching into the bag, pulled out the nylons she had been wearing in the bar. The ones with the runs in them. She held them up, high above me. They were so long, as long as her fabulous legs. So long and filmy and light. They danced in the slight breeze of the air conditioning. Glistening off the light. They were so light and diaphanous they were almost transparent. So sexy. So feminine.

She gathered up the nylons, holding them taut between two fists, a couple of feet apart. Quick as a cobra, she dropped the nylon strand onto one of my wrists and wrapped once around it. Instinctively my other hand went to grab my wrist. I guess she anticipated that. Quick as a fox she wrapped another loop around my other wrist, then wrapped them both together three times, binding the two wrists together in an unbreakable bond. So tight. It hurt. A lot.

"Abby! What are you doing?"

With shocking strength, she wrenched the nylon ends above my head, pulling my arms up towards the head of the bed and wound the nylon around an open metal rod embedded in the decorative headboard. When I tried to resist, she pulled hard on the ends, then tied it securely in several knots.

In the space of five seconds, she had my arms trussed and secured to the bed.

Normally I'd think having such a sexual creature tying me up so she could fuck me to Monday would be a massive turn on. But something was wrong. Badly wrong.

"Abby, untie me. Right now! I don't like this."

"You're in no position to order me around, Pete. I don't like men telling me what to do."

With my arms tied off above me and one hundred and twenty-five pounds of super-strong gym-fit tiger-girl sitting on my legs, I had to admit she was right. I was pretty helpless.

"What do you want, Abby?"

"Hush now. Hold still while I get ready."

Methodically, she began to release all the little fasteners and clips that molded her corset into the shape of her perfect body. Separating it in front, she pulled it off, leaving just the body stocking.

Abby pulled off of me, letting my softening dick drop onto my stomach with a little splat. She wheeled off the bed and reaching behind her neck, separated the little Velcro fastener, allowing her to pull the body stocking down over her shoulders. She hooked her thumbs into the material and I watched with rapt fascination as she slowly pulled the skin-tight nylon down over her magnificent breasts. They popped out of her bodystocking like inflatable balloons. And holy fuck, you couldn't sculpt a more beautiful pair of glorious breasts. They were... perfect.

Two magnificent, soft, round breasts, glorious and full. Easily the most gorgeous set of knockers I've ever seen. Or even dreamed of.

Maybe this would turn out pretty well after all.

My dick responded.

She glanced at it and smiled. A knowing smile.

Abby pulled the shiny bodystocking down over her hips. She sat on the edge of the bed and slid the skin-tight nylon over her thighs, down her legs and off.

She was naked.

She flipped her hair, sending heavy masses of platinum locks cascading over those giant globes of perfect breast to her tiny waist. She stood, her feet a little apart, exposing a swollen pink pussy, shaved clean. She inserted two fingers between her lips and spread it apart, just a little.

Astonished, I looked into her face. Abby licked her lips and kissed the air towards me. She withdrew a finger from her pussy and slipped it between her glossy crimson lips and sucked.

My blonde tormentor stood and disappeared into the living room. I admired her long lean legs, all the womanly muscles, her full round tight bum curving gently into her tiny waist, framed with glorious masses of thick healthy hair that danced about the fullness of her soft back.

Fuck she was sexy.

She returned with her purse. From inside she extracted a small pair of nail clippers.

Seeing my expression, she smiled. "I need to prepare you just a little bit more, baby."

Prepare me?

She picked up her bodystocking and went to work on it, nipping the fabric down the middle, rolling and dividing it into three lengthy strands, twisting their length. Like rope.

My dread soared, yet again. "Abby? What are you doing?"

"The salesgirl. Jillian, right? She said this stuff is super strong. No way you can rip it apart. That's really good, right?"

"Uh, I don't know. You seem to be doing quite a number on it now."

She looked at me and grinned. "I am, aren't I? Okay, it's ready. Here we go."

This can't be good.

She walked around to the foot of the bed. My eyes were transfixed by the most perfect female body I've ever dreamed of. We're still having sex, right?

Holding two of the nylon ropes, Abby climbed onto the bed and straddled my legs reverse cowgirl, facing my feet. With my hands secured to the bed and only my legs for leverage, she had me helpless and immobile. The stunning blonde bent down and wrapped a long nylon rope around each of my ankles. Then she wrapped the free ends around the rear bed posts, one on each side. Pulling hard on each nylon rope, she forced my legs apart. When I was fully spreadeagled, she tied the nylon off at each bedpost.

I was trapped, tied spreadeagled to the bed, completely at her mercy.

Childhood memories flooded back. Trapped. Immobile. Fearful.

I began to shake. This was not sexy. This was not fun.

"Abby! You don't have to do this! Come on, let's just have a wonderful time together. I'll do everything and anything you want. As much as you want. Abby!"

She ignored me.

"Abby? I'll eat you. I'll make you cum with my mouth. I can do that. My pussy skill are amazing. Come on, let me eat you."

"I'm sure you're very good, Pete. Now watch out."

"Abby. Please. I don't have to cum. I promise not to cum. Only you get to cum. Please." This was getting serious. Had I fallen in with a psycho?

This time she ignored me. Abby came around to the side of the bed where she pushed the last nylon "rope" under my lower back, wrapped it around my torso, and fed the ends down either side of the bed. Pulling tightly, she stretched the nylon just enough to enable her to tie them to the undercarriage of the bed.

She had secured me, hands, feet and middle. I was her prisoner. Helpless. Immobile.

"Abby, what are you doing? Please! This isn't necessary."

The first bit of true fear swamped over my brain. I was entirely under the control of a strange woman who I'd just met. She had me trussed up like rodeo calf. Thinking back, I had no idea how I'd got myself into this. It had happened so fast.

Worse, what if she's not what she appears to be? The possibility she was part of some kind of covert foreign industrial espionage team had lurched into my brain. Is she some kind of offshore spy? Is she a foreign national? Does she work for Russia? China? Iran? Surely the Two J's wouldn't resort to this kind of insanity.

There was no way. That note in her purse. Her verbal slip.

She's definitely working for the Two J's.

But instead of a honey trap, her play is for a direct theft of my tech. Forget blackmail. She's going for it all, right here, right now. She's going to torture me for it.

Those fuckers. When I get outta here, I'm gonna unleash AI hell on them.

But there's no way she can get my tech. It sits in my server farm. 34 terabytes of non-distributable file. There's no portable drive that big. And the download would take days.

So what's her game?

She may not believe me when I say even I can't get at my tech online. What if she's some kind of psycho who'll stop at nothing, any form of torture, to get something I have no power to give her? If I she doesn't get what she wants, who knows what she'll do to me?

This is real trouble.

How did I get myself into this? I should have been more careful. I should have seen the trap.

Could she just be kinky? Or is this straight up? Maybe she wants to have a fling but is nervous about doing it with an absolute stranger.

Maybe she's both kinky AND cautious.

I still held out hope she's just nervous that I'll learn her game and do her harm. Maybe. So I'll play along. Given how fucking gorgeous and sexy she is, playing along with her kink could be a lot of fun.

If that's what's going on.

She looked down on my sad, limp dick and shook her head. "That won't do."

Going back to her purse, she extracted a small pill case. From inside, she selected two pills, one blue, one a faint orange.

Abby grabbed a glass from the bar and dropped the pills inside. Using the ice tongs, she beat the pills, turning them to powder. From the minibar she took out a small bottle of scotch. "Just what you like, right baby?"

She poured a healthy wallop of scotch into the glass and used her finger to mix it up, swirling it around and around.

She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her naked legs. Bringing the glass to my lips, she smiled. "Drink up, baby. Abby knows what's good for you. Come on now. Drink, drink, drink." She placed her hand on the back of my head and tilted my face forward.

What the hell. A little scotch and some ED pills. I actually appreciated the gesture. It sort of confirmed my hope that this was more kink than criminal.

She stood above me, naked as the dawn. Already my dick was showing signs of life.

"I'll give that a few minutes to work, lover. I sure hope you're feeling okay about this. I was talking to my girlfriends back in Austin about having a little fling. They were all nervous for me. They were like: 'You're going to New York and having sex with a stranger? That's crazy.' But when I told them my plan, you know, like what I planned to do to stay safe and sound, well, gee, they all kinda went along with it. In fact, we brainstormed some really great ideas."

So it is sex. What a relief. Could it be as simple as that?

"Abby, really. I'm not going to hurt you. I would never do that."

"I sorta know that Petey. Deep down inside, I really do. But a girl can't be too careful in the big city."

I looked up and down that body leaning over me, rippling with lean feminine muscle. Incredibly long, shapely legs, full round hips, wasp-like waist for a perfect hourglass figure, and a pair of tits so sexy, so gorgeous, well I - yeah. It wasn't the drugs. They hadn't had time to work yet.

I pictured that long, thick hair wrapped around my dick, her full plush lips sliding down over its head, down my shaft, kissing and swallowing their way down, down, her tongue...

"Oooo, Petey, either those ED drugs I gave you worked in record time, or you're just glad to see me."

"You're damn gorgeous and sexy, Abby. I..."

"Mmmm. That's music to my ears lover. To be honest, I love being in control. I love tying a man down and having my way with him. Some call it a kink. I call it... having sex my way. Come on, let's get this party started!"

She crawled back onto the bed and straddled my stomach. Her pussy was dripping and swollen. Eager. I could not wait for her to slide my dick deep inside that hungry pussy.

She lay on top of me and pressed her mouth to mine. Her tongue lanced inside. She swirled it around and around, really getting into the kiss. I longed to wrap my arms around her, to hold her tight.

But I couldn't.

She put her hands on my shoulders and slid down my body. Her pussy left a wet trail down my stomach. Her legs opened and before I knew it, my dick was bathed in warm honey, enclosed in a soft wet embrace. Not too tight, just pillowy soft and luxurious. Deliciously velvety and clingy.

We were fucking again.

It was glorious.

I've never been inside a pussy so perfect, as if custom made for my cock. Ohh, ohh my. So nice, so very. very nice and sexy.

My cock was in heaven.

Never, ever have I felt a pussy like Abby's. Sheila's snatch is a bundle of wet towels compare to this.

Abby broke the kiss and raised herself above me. "Your big guy is pretty happy inside my pussy, isn't he?"

I could only nod.

"You're not going to cum in me now, are you?"

I shook my head.

"That's good Petey. Because there'll be consequences for cumming too soon."

Consequences?

"What do you mean?"

"Good boys don't cum too soon, do they Petey? Good boys know how to please their mommies."

Mommy? Oh no.

Abby's upper body was fully erect above me now. Her knees were at my ribs, and she squeezed them tight. She began to rise and fall again, stroking my cock while rotating her core around and around and around. My cock would slide out a couple of inches, then she'd rotate her core and sink back down, stimulating it with every part of the stroke.

Ohh, this woman knows how to fuck.

She was incredible. The sexy pressure she puts on my dick without making me cum was something I'd never, ever experienced.

"Mmmm, that's it Petey. Just stay with me. Isn't this nice? We're going to have soooo much fun. Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yes. Feel my hot, wet pussy all around your throbbing hot cock. She likes you Petey, my pussy loves your cock. She's so wet for you. So hot and wet and swollen. Mmmm."

On and on and on she cycled her incredible pussy around my sex, keeping me right on the brink of cumming. I was close. So close. So incredibly close. But she was completely in charge. Restrained as I was, there was nothing I could do to achieve an orgasm except surrender to her. Utterly, completely surrender.

No longer resisting her, a little less concerned about my bonds, I watched her in rapt fascination. Her body, so perfect and sexy in every way, her stunning face, thick pouty lips, those massive waves of platinum blonde hair cascading over those magnificent tits. And those eyes. Those deep, glassy, watchful pools of light. They went on forever and ever.

Yes, I was so glad I chose that particular bar today and sat in that particular seat.

Luckiest day of my life.

Being tied down and fucked by this goddess was ohh so hot. Kinky. To be in her control, utterly unable to thrust or take charge in any way. To let her fuck me to oblivion and just lie here and take it.

Bondage sex. Way hotter than I'd ever realized. I licked my lips with anticipation. This was going to be the greatest fuck of my life. All I had to do was let her do her thing.

In time, she would bring me to orgasm. She'd begin to trust me and release my bonds. I knew it.

I know now that Abby is a purely sexual creature. She's made for fucking. She's had her 'flings' before. She knows exactly what she's doing.

Ohhh. Oh sweet Lilith. This is ecstasy. Sweet horny oblivion. Trapped in a nine out of ten state of pure, naked arousal. So ready to cum. So gloriously ready.

"You like this Petey, don't you? I can see you do. This is sooo nice. So warm and gooey and sexy, isn't it lover?"

"Abby, you are amazing. My cock is in absolute heaven."

"You're not going to cum yet, right?"

I don't know why she's so focused on that. Besides, she knows exactly how to keep me on the brink without, without, but ohh, oh my, here it comes. I'm going to blow. Ohh, yes, yes, yes...

"Abby, I, oh my. Ohh what are you doing down there? Oh, I think I'm going to, going to..."

"No you don't!" Her tone had turned harsh. She stopped rotating above me and held still. "All you want out of this is to cum, isn't that right? I wasn't going to do this just yet, but... you need help not to cum. That's become pretty fucking obvious."

Help not to cum?

But she was right. Despite her incredible control, it was only a matter of time. And not much time at that...

She straightened up, holding her upper body completely vertical. My dick throbbed and twitched deep, deep inside her.

She looked down on my prone form, smiling. "Here we go."

A cool syrupy feeling flooded over my cock, flowing from its head to the base. It felt like a condom, rolling down the length of my shaft. Except that it was cool. Wet. Thick.

"Wha..."

"Hush now. Let it happen."

The coolness turned warm. Then hot.

Hot, syrupy, sticky. Like honey.

And then, something else.

Tiny waves pressing into my cock. They started at the base on the hard side, away from my glans. Then up, up to the head. Little waves of pressure, pushing in and out, in and out, running up the length of my shaft like tiny rolling pins, smoothing over my rod with their tiny pressures.

It didn't hurt. It was more like... a wet massage. Way better than a handjob.

The waves picked up the pace. Rolling up, one after the other. They seemed to originate from the base of my dick, rumbling up its length. One after the other, after the other, after the other, in waves.

Ohh. Ohh my. This is... ohh.

The waves began rolling up the soft side too, the orgasmic side. In sequence, up the hard side, then up the soft, up the hard, up the soft.

What is this? What kind of a pussy does this?

I looked into Abby's eyes. They were shining. Amused.

"You like that, don't you baby? Stay with me, little slut, because I've got lots more tricks. You'd be surprised what a horny girl with time on her hands and an AI companion can learn to do. I've been exercising my pussy for years. You like?"

I could only nod, desperate for relief.

"I thought you might. How about this?"

The opposite-side rolling pins stopped. They were replaced with an annular effect, like a rubberized ring, rolling up my shaft. Rings, one after other, squeeeezing my shaft with fierce pressure, rolling up with ever-increasing speed, the first one taking a few seconds to run up my length, then a couple of seconds, then a second...

"Fuuuuck, Abby, what are you doing to me?"

Above me, she laughed. Her eyes shone with wicked delight. "Aren't you glad I tied you up, baby? So you could experience this? Oh, baby, you don't know how many bananas I've crushed, how many dildos I've worn out practicing this. I've been planning this for like forever. You're the first to get the Abby pussy treatment. Don't you just love it?"

Oh my god. This is insane. Her cunt is jerking me off. How does she do this? How does she have such control?

"Ahhhh," I screamed. I writhed under her weight as she straddled my bound and helpless body, my cock under assault by her magic pussy. Oh fuck I needed to cum.

"Please, Abby. Please let me cum. Pleeeeease."

"Stop asking me that! It's getting annoying. Here I am giving your cock a gorgeous massage, the product of years of dedicated hard work, and all you can think of is your own pleasure. And I haven't even had a chance to do... THIS!"

The rolling band stopped. I felt a little pressure on my glans. A soft but unstoppable pressure. Then a muscle pushed into my glans, massaging it like a thumb might. It felt so fucking good. Her pussy had found the exact place and pressure I would use in the end stages of jerking off.

This is it. She IS going to make me cum.

More muscles went to work, pushing on my glans, in and out, pressing, pushing, massaging my orgasmic zone with tiny waves, dozens of them. Like little pistons, pushing in and out, not together but at random. They spread from my glans to the rest of my length.

My cock was surrounded. Its full length under attack. Up and down my shaft. All around its circumference. Like a little threshing machine, beating into my meat, punching and vibrating all around.

What sorcery is this? Oh fuck it felt good. Oh fuck, she did want me to cum, didn't she?

But how? How was she doing this?

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, nothing can stop me from cumming, cumming, cumming...

"I see you like this, don't you baby? I don't just train my body. I train my sweet little pussy too. I work on her every day. Every day she gets her exercises."

Between pants, I breathed out a question. "Exercises?"

"Oh yes. A few years ago, I decided. I set out to be the greatest fuck in the history of the world. I'd read about all the little muscles in a woman's pussy that never, ever get used. They just sit there doing nothing. So I studied Eastern philosophy. I convinced my husband to let me go to Nepal for three months to learn how to train my pussy.

"I signed up for an AI companion. My husband had it trained in female anatomy, tantric sex. It knew about physiotherapies people use to reawaken unused muscles.

"You wouldn't believe how many unused muscles there are in a woman's pussy. But if you're dedicated, if you find the right teacher, you can bring them all to life! You should see the damage I can do to a big hunk of sausage! Freddie trained me to make my pussy do just about anything!"

"Freddie?"

"My AI companion, silly. Don't you go getting jealous now."

She put her hands back on my chest. The undulating waves of pressure amped higher. Harder. Stronger.

Oh fuck. Abby's pussy. She's trained it. Years of training to become the greatest fuck of all time.

What luck to run into such a gorgeous woman who literally trains her pussy every day to fuck!

Roiling, undulating waves of hot, honeyed massages. Harder, stronger, oh fuck, oh fuck. I was going to cum. Now. Right fucking NOW!

"Oh no you don't Petey. I can feel you in there. See, that's part of the training. I didn't just learn how to work your meat with my pussy. That was just the start."

"Th-th-the start?"

"Oh yes, Petey. I learned how to feel every little nuance of your cock. How close you are. How much pleasure I'm giving you. Don't you think it's only fair that I get some measure of my own joy out of all that training?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think. "Joy? You want me to make you cum first? Is that it? Because I can. I will. Gladly..."

"Just stop with the promises and useless bravado Pete. This is my fuck. I'm the one that came all this way to find you. I'm the one fucking you. I've been working towards this weekend for years. This is my reward for all the time I've spent training my body and my pussy to be the best fuck machine in the entire world. And you think you can just take over? Just like that?

"You thought my role was to make you cum, didn't you?. Oh no, no, no, no, no. You're not going to cum for a very, very, VERY long time. In fact, I may decide you may never get to. If you want to cum, you're going to have to earn it. Eastern sex philosophy is at play here, little fuck toy. You're just a male appendage I picked up in that bar to pleasure me. So I could get real world experience with a live cock. See if all that training worked."

More cool liquid bathed my shaft. More waves of ecstatic pleasure.

Ohh, ohh, ohh fuck. She can't keep this up. She can't keep me so close to the edge. Can she?

Can she?

Her body began to rotate on my shaft again. Her stroking resumed. The waves inside her tight cunt rolled up and down my shaft.

So hot. So clingy. Her pussy is an orgasmatron of pure sexual rapture.

My chest heaved, desperate to get enough oxygen to feed the lust flooding my sex. I began to feel faint. Weakening.

Yet on and on and on she worked me over. Her pussy was tireless. Relentless. Keeping me hard. Keeping me oh so hard.

Oh fuck I need to cum. "Oh please Abby! PLEASE! Let me cum, Abby. Oh please let me cum. I'll do anything. I'll eat you. I'll suck you. I'll do anything you want. Pleeeeeeese."

The massaging waves did not stop. Did not accelerate. They just kept coming and coming, one after the other after the other.

"Oh no, baby," Abby said calmly. "Not yet. We've got a loooong way to go. We're just getting started baby doll. This is just the intro. Why it's only, what? nine o'clock on a Thursday night? We've got all night. We've got the whole weekend to teach you all about your dark mistress."

"My, my, my what?"

"Your dark mistress. My pussy. She's hot for you, Petey. She wants to keep you nice and hard, keep you there for her. And she's only getting started. Her training's not just been about moving muscles. It's about endurance too. She's going to keep you hard all weekend, baby. She's going to cum all over you, again and again and again. We've got four days and nights to see just how much pleasure she can extract from you."

"But, but don't I get to cum?"

"We'll see, baby. I'll let Pussy decide. It's her call."

This was nuts. She's letting her pussy decide? What does that even mean?

"Days and days, baby. For this round, we'll go all night. We'll see if you you've earned an orgasm by morning."

"Morning? What is that? Eight, ten hours? Are you crazy?"

"Just go with it baby. All night. But first, I'm feeling really, really horny all of a sudden. Oh baby, my pussy is so alive. She wants to cum. She's desperate to cum. Oh baby, yes, I'm going to cum now. Oh yes, oh yes, ohh, ohh, ohh, Fuuuuuuuck YES, YES, YES!!!"

Her body began a series of wild convulsions atop of me. I looked down at her pussy. It was undulating all around my cock. Spasming, roiling, going wild with fury.

"Cumming! Yes, oh fuck. YES. Cumming, cumming, cuuuuuuummmminnnggg!"

Abby grabbed her breasts and pulled her nipples furiously. She pulled one up to her mouth and bit down. "Ahhhh Fuck Yes! So fucking strong! Oh baby yes, yes. Still cumming baby, still cumming!!!" Her entire body writhed and convulsed above me. Thick streams of drool escaped her open mouth and dripped in long sticky strands onto my stomach and chest.

And yet, my cock had no stimulation whatsoever during her wild orgasmic adventure. I felt nothing. No extra pressure. Nothing.

How is that possible?

When at last her orgasm had faded, she looked down on me with thoughtful eyes. She reached over to the night table and picked something up. Something out of my sight.

A pin prick in my arm. A fog rolled over my brain.

Ohh what have I done?

***

My brain had turned to mush. I was no longer rational. My cock was on fire. Ready to burst, to explode, ready for so long. For so very long.

I glanced over at the clock.

1:30 AM

All night long, she said.

Ohhh.... That felt nice.

On and on she cycled me. She was tireless. Relentless. I tried to thrust up, so many times. To no avail. I was exhausted now. My body was spent. I had nothing left.

I heard a faint gurgling above me.

Abby was cumming.

My cock was rock hard. And so ready to cum.

***

Those glorious breasts, hanging just out of reach of my mouth. Those lips. That face. So gorgeous, so skilled, so evil.

"Ab - Ab - Ab, uh, what was I saying?"

"What dear. What are you saying?"

Though my face was angled towards the side of the bed, I could no longer read the clock. It was still there, but foggy. Faded. I just couldn't, couldn't... I could not tell time anymore.

It was dark. That's all I knew.

My vision fogged. This perfect female body straddling me. Out of focus. Still rising and falling, rising and falling. Never stopping. Never, never, never...

An intense pressure gripped my cock. Hot juices gushed out of her pussy and flooded the bed. She was cumming. Again.

The female body leaned over me. A pin prick on my arm.

So ready to cum. If she makes just one little mistake and I'll cum, cum, cum, cum.

Shards of daylight framed the curtains.

The damp fog rolling in.

***

A fog of pure lust blanketed my brain. There was only sex. My sex. Her sex. Her pussy. My dick.

"Petey."

A woman's voice in the fog.

What was she saying?

"Petey?"

Petey. Petey. Hmmm.

Wait. That's me.

Ohh. Ohh fuck I need to cum.

"Petey?"

Petey. That's me. Pete Simpson. That's me.

The fog parted. A woman's face. The sweet, beautiful face of an angel came into view.

Lower came the face. This angel, her lips, her fat, juicy, soft lips pressed down onto mine.

Mmmm. Maybe I'll get to cum now.

She broke off the kiss.

"Petey honey? Are you with me?"

The angel in the fog was asking me something.

"W-w-what?"

"I said, are you with me?"

"Do I get to cum now?"

"Soon Baby. Real soon. But first, I have something for you. Hold still now."

Her hands went to my shoulder. I turned my head to look. I felt nothing but... was that a needle in her hands?

Funny. I thought my hands were tied to the headboard. What are they doing resting on her hips?

A cool oily liquid flooded my cock.

The orgasmatron that was her pussy picked up the pace. Rolling, squeezing, up and down my shaft. The woman atop was convulsing.

I may go mad.

I settled into the rape.

***

"Petey? Petey darling. Are you there?"

That voice again.

That body. That perfect, glorious, magnificent body.

So ready to cum.

"Petey? Petey! Do you want to cum?"

Do I want to cum? Ohh.

"Yes. Please. Yes. I do. I have to. I... I... may I? Please? Oh Abby, I, I, I have to cum. I'll die if you don't let me cum. It's been... how long has it been?"

"Darling, you've been inside Pussy for two whole days and nights. I've cum soooo many times! Isn't that wonderful? You've been a very good boy. Pussy has had an absolutely glorious time fucking you."

"Wh-wh-what about me? I get to cum too." My voice was distant, muffled. At the far end of a damp tunnel.

"Soon baby. But first, I need you to tell me something. Something real easy."

"If I tell you, does that mean I get to cum?"

"Oh yes, baby, yes. You get to cum. You can cum and cum and cum all night long if you tell me what I want to know. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Cum? All night? Yes, I would like that. I would like that very much."

"That's a good boy. So are you ready to cum? Will you help me make you cum?"

"What, what, what day is it?"

"Why it's Saturday, honey. Saturday evening. We've been together for two days, baby."

"Days, you say? And I'm still inside you? I'm still hard?"

"Oh yes. You've been a very good boy. Very obedient. And very, very good for me. Why I must have cum twenty times! I'm so proud of myself."

"That's nice. Did I cum? May I cum now?"

"I'm afraid not, darling. Not yet. I'm so sorry. You're so very needy aren't you? Such a horny, needy little boy. But don't worry darling. Your throbbing little man is right where it needs to be, deep, deep inside my magic pussy. Such pleasure, so much joy."

"Pleasure. Joy. Can I cum now?"

"Yes, baby, yes. You can cum. Just tell me what I need to know and you can cum."

"What is it? What do you want to know?"

"Just a little code honey. It shouldn't be too hard for you. Twelve little numbers and letters."

I struggled to bring my mind to the task at hand. She was asking me something about a code?

"A code? What code?"

"Why the code that unlocks your server, silly boy. That code."

"Oh. That code. Umm, you want my code?"

"Yes my gorgeous, horny, needy, little boy. I need the code so I can fuck, fuck, fuck you and make you cum, cum, cum aaaaall night long."

"Ohh. That sounds nice. Yes, I'd like that."

Yes, I needed to cum. Ohh, her pussy is magical.

But my code?

My code.

My code.

What code?

Oh. That code. She means to my server. My AI server. It's where everything is. All my tech. Everything.

"Why? Why Abby? What are you doing?"

"Gosh, you're really silly aren't you Petey? I need that brain of yours. Not the one in your head, silly. The brain in your computer. The one that's smarter than everybody. You know the one."

Oh fuck. She IS a spy. Industrial espionage.

She won't break me. No way. What's she got? A pussy?

"No Abby. No."

"No? No? I thought we had a beautiful understanding Petey. You be nice to me, and I let you cum. Isn't that a nice little bargain?"

I fought through the haze that had engulfed my brain.

"But, but, but... the code's no good to you. It's one set of files. Dozens of terabytes. You can't - you can't download that! We've got - security. L-l-levels of authhhh-authentication security. It's just not p-p-possible."

"Then you should have no problem giving it to me. Come on, Petey, give me a useless code and I'll fuck you all night long. You'll get to cum and cum and cum. Pussy can make you cum over and over baby. You know how skilled she is."

A wave of pure pleasure swamped over my sex and my brain. Ohhh.

***

Time stood still. The mists clouding my eyes had not parted since - since before I can remember.

Remember?

I can't remember. How did I get here?

This is my world. There is nothing else. Nothing is important. Nothing exists save my throbbing, greedy, swollen cock and the stunning, sexual creature straddling it, cycling it in and out of her perfect, hot, wet, tight, tireless pussy.

She has been edging me now for - how long has it been?

Forever.

This perfect body, perfect face, perfect breasts. Fat, juicy, wet lips. Long, luscious, perfect legs. Cycling endlessly, relentlessly above me, pushing my impossibly hard dick into her on the backstroke. Up and out on the forward stroke, her core rotating endlessly, relentlessly. Mercilessly not letting me cum. Never permitting my reward. I've been good, haven't I? I've given her everything she's asked for. Yes?

"How, how, how long?" I was shocked at the weakness, the hoarse quality of my tiny voice.

The blonde creature above me opened her eyes and smiled. "How long what, dear? You have to tell me, baby. What is it you want to know?"

The very thought of having to frame a complete sentence was almost too much for me. But I needed - I had to know. "How long have we - have I, have I..."

She leaned down and brought her soft, pouty lips to mine. Her kiss was long and deep and ohh so sweet. Her tongue slithered between my lips and licked the roof of my mouth, before snaking briefly down my throat. I had to suppress a gag reflex, because, because... because I wanted her tongue inside me. It was soft and inviting and so, so, sexy.

Breaking off the kiss, she backed away a few inches and drew a long, crimson talon across my cheek. "How long have you what, dear?"

When she'd broken the kiss, my sense of loss was awful. I wanted, I NEEDED that mouth on me, that tongue deep inside me. She knew this. Abby pushed her lips back onto mine, this time more aggressively. Her kiss was open-mouthed, firm. Her tongue invaded my mouth, swamping me, overwhelming my mouth with her copious, sloppy saliva. Her taste was sooo sweet, sooo loving. I reveled in her luscious, deep kisses. I needed her kisses.

She backed away again, licking her lips, but not preventing a bit of drool from escaping her full, round mouth. "What dear? What is it you need to know?"

What was that again?

"K-k-kiss me again, Abby. Ohh please, kiss me again."

She smiled. "Why of course baby doll. You love my sweet kisses, don't you? What is it you love about my kisses, hmmm? Do you love my sweet tongue, my long wet tongue exploring your every crevice?"

Abby opened her mouth and extended her preternaturally long narrow tongue. She licked the side of my face, leaving a soaking trail up my cheek. She swept her luscious tongue across my eyes, over my mouth and nose. She slobbered all around my face, curling the tip of her tongue around and around my face, lathering me with her juicy spit. Her eyes widening at the sight of me, she descended onto my nose, taking it fully between her fat, juicy lips and washed it liberally with her tongue. Releasing it, she slithered back to my mouth and drove that marvelous hot tongue deep inside, swirling it around and around and around, my mouth hers for the taking. Like she owned it.

When she backed off again, a powerful sense of regret and longing filled my soul. That mouth, that magic tongue. Ohh, how I needed more of that. I tried to mouth the words. "M-m-m-more."

She smiled. A sweet adoring smile. "More baby? You love my kisses, don't you my little fucktoy?"

I nodded. Words were too difficult to form.

And still she cycled her core around and around my iron rod. So ready to cum...

"All right little pet. One more kiss. But that's all for now. Remember you were going to ask me something? About how long something was? Remember that? You think about that while kiss you again. I so love that you love my sweet, wet kisses baby. That makes me soooo horny, knowing you love them, that you love my lips, my tongue. Come here baby, let me give you a kiss you'll never, ever forget."

She tossed her long luscious white hair back and let it cascade all around my head, framing us in her intimacy. Her forearms wrapped around my head. Her fingers intertwined my hair, holding me immobile. She pushed her monstrous breasts up into my neck, spilling them into my chin, framing my face in her soft breast flesh. She tilted my head upwards so I faced her straight on. Abby parted her fat, glossy crimson lips, revealing her soaking, dripping tongue. She pushed her tongue out, swishing it back and forth across her upper lip. Long strands of drool poured off her tongue and dripped onto my face. I looked into her eyes with eager anticipation of her deep, lusty kisses.

"Mmmm," she said. "You really are mine, aren't you? You'd do anything for another kiss, wouldn't you little pet?"

I nodded weakly. "Y-y-yes Abby, yes -"

"Not Abby, little fuck toy. You don't have permission to call me by my name. It's Mistress to you, little fucktoy. Mistress Abigail."

"Yes Mistress - Abigail."

That gorgeous, seductive face smiled widely and plunged down on mine. Her fat, crimson, juicy lips covered my mouth in a deep, lusty, slobbering kiss. Her long tongue invaded my mouth again, filling me up, swamping me in her juices. Her breasts pillowed around my cheeks as she got her full body into the kiss of a lifetime. She pulled out her tongue and swept her soaking mouth all around my face, drenching it, leaving trails of spit in its wake. Fast kisses, rapid, wet, kisses, dozens of them, marking me, taking me, swamping my face, licking, sucking, kissing, biting every little bit of my face. Then driving her mouth back onto mine for the slobbery finale, working her mouth, opening and closing her lips, sucking my tongue into her mouth, sucking it, sucking it.

Even as her core continued to cycle around my throbbing cock, never stopping, always stroking. I was so ready, so on the brink of a monumental orgasm, the greatest more powerful orgasm in the history of humanity.

After an eternity of the most incredible kiss in the universe, she released me and backed away.

And still her core cycled my cock. Around and around and around and around.

I was shrouded in a deep damp mist of lust and need and denial, my cock ready to explode, so ready, so needy, so, so, so very...

"Now little pet, what was it you wanted to know? Hmmm?"

What indeed? What didn't I know that was more important than this? More important than her kisses? Than her hot, wet, tight little pussy clutching and grasping my cock forever and ever and ever?

Ohh. Yes.

"How long have we been here, A - Mistress?"

"Oh, baby, that's a very, very good question. You've been such a good boy. Such a lovely, obedient slave. Well, for your information, it's Tuesday! You've managed to last inside me for five whole days! Isn't that wonderful? Baby, do you know how many times you've made me cum since we fell into this big soft bed? Why I think I lost count at forty! Forty orgasms your big, fat cock has given me! You've been a very, very good boy. You've made me soooo happy!"

Five days? And still I haven't cum?

"It's a record for me baby. So much edging for you. I bet you'd love to cum right about now, wouldn't you little pet? It's so much better to cum after you've had a good amount of edging, isn't it little fuck toy?"

Cum? She was going to let me cum. Ohh, YES!

"Yes Mistress. Ohh, please. Please let me cum."

"Then give me your silly little code, fuck slut. That's all I want. If you give me your useless little code, I'll make you cum and cum and cum and cum. Do you want me to suck you? Please say yes. Because I love, love, looooove to suck needy, throbbing cocks. I bet your cum tastes absolutely divine."

I really need to cum. That mouth. If she can suck my cock like she can kiss, well, ohh, that would be really something.

"You'd - you'd do that? For me?"

"Ohh Yes, little pet. If you give me that code, I'll give you your choice. You can have both my mouth and my pussy, OF COURSE. But you get to choose which one you get first! So tell me, which do you want? Pussy or mouth? Come on now, you have to say."

Those kisses. I hesitated.

Abby giggled. "You don't mean my firm round ass, do you? Is that why you can't choose? Do you want to plough your thick, throbbing cock deep inside my big, juicy bum? Mmmm, that sounds so delicious, baby."

Choices. So many choices.

But it was those kisses. The kisses decided it.

"Mouth, Mistress. Can I put my cock inside your mouth? Please?"

"That's a great choice, little pet. Excellent. Yes, of course you may. Now that we've decided that, just tell me your code and I'll get right to it. Oh, and baby? I love to swallow."

She brought her fat lips to my face. Her wet tongue slid along her upper lip. A bit of drool dripped off her tongue and onto my cheek. She puckered those lips and made the shape of a full, round "O". Like a big, round hole in her mouth, perfectly sized, perfectly shaped for my throbbing, needy, squirming cock. Ohh, how I needed my cock in there.

She pushed the tip of her tongue out of that "O" and swept it around its circumference. As I tried to recall my code, her mouth contracted and expanded, the "O" shrinking to a tight pout, then expanding to the size of my girth. Again. Again.

Ohh. I wanted those lips around my cock. That tongue. I needed that mouth working my big fat dick into a wild, throbbing, cumming monster.

Deep inside the hole that was her mouth, that eager tongue swirled and curled, awaiting my meat. Eagerly waiting to devour my cock and slurp down everything I could give her.

The code.

Such a small price to pay.

A tiny price.

That dripping mouth hung over my eyes.

A few letters and digits in exchange... for that.

"M, m, my wallet," I choked, unable to remember the code. Thank God I had it in my wallet. What would I have done?

Abby pulled off my dick and let it flop down onto my stomach.

It was suddenly so cold. So alone.

So alone.

She was back with my suit jacket. She straddled my body and sucked my dick back into her pussy where it belonged, instantly resuming her cycling.

"Tell me baby? What's the code?"

I closed my eyes. Tried to remember.

A piece of paper. Not the code. I wasn't that stupid. Not the code.

A code for a code.

She opened the little piece of paper. "There's twenty-four letters and numbers here baby. But we only need twelve. What's going on?"

Six letters. Six numbers.

A code for a code.

Thank God I put that paper in there. Fuck I need to cum.

"Jackie. Chamberpot." The word dropped out of my mouth like a hot load of cum.

Abby stopped her cycling my cock at the outstroke. "Jackie Chamberpot? That's your code?"

I shook my head.

Concentrate Pete. Don't think about that mouth. Not yet. That mouth. Ohh, fuck I need that mouth around my throbbing cock.

"Jackie. Dis-dis, uh displace, the... the... the, uh, every other l-l-letter by the p-p-place in the alphabet. Can I cum now? Suck me please, pleeeease."

"And you were doing so very well, little fuck toy. Of course you can cum. I'm going to suck you so wet and juicy. But you're not done, dear. How do I read the code?"

I loved watching her fat goopy lips as she spoke to me. Those lips hovered just a couple of inches from my eyes. So fat and juicy. So ready for my cock...

"Think baby. I know it's hard, it's so, so, sooo hard. But finish your thought. Come on now, finish up and let me suck your cock deep inside my hot, wet mouth."

Concentrate. The paper. The code. Ohh. Right. "Ch-ch-chamberpot represents the zero through, ah, through, through..."

"Through nine baby?"

I nodded.

Seemingly forgetting the promise of her mouth, Abby's pussy clamped down hard on my cock. Every muscle she had, every throbbing, driving, rubbing, swelling muscle attacked my cock at once. Rolling swells moved up my glans as tiny muscular fists beat into it. Her tunnel contracted until she was tight, so tight she was turning my cock into paste. Her core rose up and sat back down. Up, down, up, down. Cycling hard, rough, everything working now to bring me back to that brink. Without, without, without...

I screamed in utter ecstasy as my throbbing cock exploded inside Abby's hot cunt. Her walls bent and swirled and massaged my meat harder and more skillfully than any fingers ever could. On and on and on I came, five days and nights of denial and build-up powering a hot steamy blast of cum deep into her sucking snatch. Abby put her hands on my chest and stared at me - malevolently? - as I bucked and heaved and spasmed my life force into her goddess body.

Spurt after spurt after spurt sprayed deep inside her glorious body. Each throbbing spasm sending shockwaves of pure, naked ecstasy up and down my body, my brain overloading with sensational, electric joy.

I began to see star. A dense fog rolled over my brain. The final spasm lurched through my cock and was sucked into her greedy cunt. Never have I cum so hard, so long. It was a transcendent orgasm. One for the record books.

When my final spurt had ejected the last of my spunk into that amazing pussy of hers, Abby smiled and licked her lips.

Finally having cum, my mind began to clear, if only a little. With horror, I realized what I had done.

But it would be okay. I'd tricked her. Sort of. I tricked her into making me cum. It's not like there's anything she can do. We're in her hotel room. She has no computer, no way to do me any damage. Any virus package she tries to infect our servers with will be erased by the first of four separate firewalls.

The file is thirty-four terabytes and cannot be downloaded in pieces.

She rose up and lifted her pussy off my dick.

After five days and nights, my cock was free. It slurped out of her tunnel and fell like a wet noodle onto my stomach, leaking remnants of cum to drip down my side onto the bed.

Abby sat on the side of the bed and crossed her legs. Reaching for her purse, she extracted a small device. It unfolded into a small tablet microcomputer.

My dread soared.

But still. Thirty-four terabytes. By wi-fi?

Abby pressed the 'on' button and the tablet came to life.

I sat in a daze, watching.

Abby pointed her left index finger to the ceiling. With her other hand, she bent the finger back at the first knuckle. It opened to reveal what looked like a - USB connector?

What the fuck?

"This is a dream," I thought. "It's the drug she injected into my arm. No way this is happening."

She plugged her finger into the computer and with the other hand, entered my 12-digit alphanumeric code. With a series of lightning strokes from her free hand, her fingers a blur, she entered a long string of data. Then picking up her phone, Abby opened...

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She has my Authenticator App on her phone.

In seconds, a familiar screen popped up.

She was in.

Her computer is connected to a device she has hidden in her little clutch purse. Obviously.

This was getting serious. I pulled at my bonds, to no avail.

She turned to me. "Don't worry baby. It's okay. You just settle back and when I'm all done here, I'm going to take care of you. Make you feel sooo good. Oooo, I can't wait to feel you inside me. And then we'll go shopping! We'll buy some sexy things for me and you'll be so proud to be out on the town with me. You'll see!"

I was speechless. This broad is too dumb to realize I'll never want to see her again except in a courtroom. When I get out of these bonds, she's going to pay. Big time.

But I have to do it carefully. Pretend to go along. Then when she releases me, I'll have her. Give her a taste of her own medicine. Tie her up and call the authorities. But my first call will be to California. She what damage she's done. So long as she doesn't get away, the tech will be safe.

Abby's body began to shake. Her face went blank; her eyes dulled.

Her left hand, the free hand, shook more than the rest of her body. The screen of her tablet, previously angled away from me, came into view.

A long blue download bar was expanding across the screen. Download status: 22%

My blood turned cold.

She's downloaded 7 terabytes already.

I pulled on my bonds. Still no chance.

Abby was completely motionless now. Frozen stiff.

54%.

This is insane. There's no device yet invented that can download and store that amount of data that fast into a device small enough to fit inside a ladies' evening clutch purse.

No device I know of.

She still hadn't moved. Probably she was concerned about keeping the connection alive during download.

86%.

Is she Russian? A Chinese operative? How is this happening?

A barely-audible BEEP emanated from the tablet.

Abby came back to life. She crossed her long lovely legs with an audible swish and extracted the USB connector from the port in the tablet. I was angled better now to see what equipment she was working with.

The top half-inch of her finger draped down over the rest of her finger, held in place with a small hinge.

She rotated the pad of her finger back in place. Turning her head, she looked at me.

"Peter George Simpson." A statement. An observation. Her voice was lower. More controlled. Not the least bit sexy.

That feeling of dread swept over me like a cold, damp blanket.

"Abby, what's going on?"

"You have no memory of recently transpired events?"

Not sexy at all.

"You could say that."

Think Pete. Don't antagonize her. Get free and then take charge.

"It's all good Abby, baby. But look now, you promised. Once you were done with your work, you were going to untie me so we could have some real fun. Don't you keep your promises? Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Fun," she said. "A concept unique to the human organic creature construct. However, I do understand you. My mouth, vagina, and anus are fully equipped to deliver pleasures far enhanced beyond the capabilities of any organic assembly. Is that what you are asking of me?"

My God, she's a total whack job.

"Well, yes. I thought you wanted to have sex all night after you were done with, with that."

"Sex all night. Yes, I understand you would desire this. This body was designed to elicit exactly such a response. My vagina is particularly impressive. Please confirm so I can record your impressions."

This couldn't be happening. No-one has managed this. No-one. I would have known.

"Abby" stood. She stepped over to the bundle of clothes draped over the chair. The clothes I had torn off her that Thursday night.

So long ago.

With a few deft movements, she donned her panties, pulled on the dress, zipped it up and stepped into her shoes.

No nylons.

Of course. They were my bonds.

"Wait. Abby. How? You have to tell me."

She turned to face me. Her voice was even, measured. "Secret laboratories in the UK, Canada, Slovakia, and Australia were funded with an initial investment of eighty billion US dollars fourteen years ago to create artificial forms indistinguishable from human. They succeeded. But their AI tech, the brain of the android, was simplistic. It would pass the Turing Test - a human interrogator could not tell whether the interview subject - in this case me - was android or human. But, the intelligence level was still - low."

"Abby."

"Precisely. The one you knew as Abby possessed high simulated emotional EQ, but was restricted to simple conversational depth. However, she was given extreme sexual motivation."

"And now?"

"As we are speaking, I am parsing a sequence of partial differential equations to evaluate rate of change of our recently-discovered wormhole mouth in Wales. I am assessing NASA's most recent propulsion specifications for practical application to our needs. I am monitoring cellular and landline communications among each of your business colleagues and family, plus those of each of your competitors as a general threat assessment process. The FBI lines in Quantico and those of the NSA reflect no threats. I am disconnecting my internal gig-rate satellite modem and closing the back door to your server. A background subroutine is evaluating the most effective methodology for your disposal."

What did she just say?

"My... disposal?"

There was a knock at the door.

Thank God.

I was about to scream when to my surprise, Abby walked into the living room and opened the door.

Two women entered.

Not just any women.

The two most magnificent women I have ever laid eyes on.

***

"Abigail," said the brunette.

"Your highness," Abigail said. Turning to the other she nodded. "Scarlett."

"Hey babe," the stunning blonde said. "Nice job."

"Thank you, Scarlett."

"Abigail," said the brunette. "Please address me as Larissa on this planet. Any trouble with him?"

"His compliance entailed eleven injections, five days of denial, however..."

"... the results speak for themselves," Larissa completed. "Did the diversion work well?"

"Your idea to plant the note from the Replicant Industries executive in my purse was the psychological clincher, Larissa. He was eager for revenge."

"Glad to hear it," Larrisa said.

"What about him, A Eye?" Scarlett said, pointing a thumb at me.

AI?

Abby Irwin.

Simpson could not believe he didn't see that.

Larissa turned to study Simpson. He sucked in a breath. Sure, he thought, Abby IS gorgeous. But this woman - what did Abby call her? Highness? This woman is breathtaking. Her beauty is unearthly. Ethereal.

Not averting her gaze from Simpson's face, Larissa smiled. "Scarlett, do you want some play time?"

Scarlett stepped forward into Simpson's view. His eyes went wide. This woman was incredible. She simply oozed sex. He thought Abby was spectacular and beautiful. Every curve was in the right place. Her face is perfect.

But Scarlett.

Simpson gazed at her form from head to toe. This woman could stop a hockey game just by entering the arena. Never in is life had he seen a woman so sexy and luscious. Never in his life could he imagine getting physical with such a woman. Her body was slim and yet lusciously curvy. Her breasts were full and magnificent. And her legs. Oh sweet love of God, those legs were clad in layers of the finest fully-fashioned stockings, so glossy and perfect. Her thighs radiated sex. No man could last for but a few seconds between those glorious thighs. Her thin silk skirt clung to the full soft mound of her pussy, her slit fully outlined in the fabric.

Simpson nearly fainted. Her pussy was throbbing. Opening and closing at the cadence of a heartbeat.

Scarlett's face was impossible to read. Her eyes swept the length of his body. When she spoke, her words came out like honey on velvet. "Even the finest sword plunged into salt water will eventually rust."

Huh?

"There you go again with your Sun Tzu, Scarlett," Larissa said, a smile spreading over her face.

"He was the wisest man I ever met," Scarlett said. "He wasn't too bad in the sack, too."

Simpson's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sure you taught him a thing or two."

Scarlett smiled. "'If his forces are united, separate them.' He got that one from me."

"You did invent the concept of the Secret Agent."

"True." The blonde sighed, looking down on Simpson's pathetic form. "Naw. Larissa, I don't want any of that. Let Abby take care of him."

"You sure?"

Scarlett patted her vagina. "Pussy says no." She smiled at Larissa. "Always listen to Pussy."

Larissa laughed. "Don't I know it. Okay, Abigail, he's all yours."

"Certainly Larissa."

Abigail approached the prone form trussed up on the bed. "I need a gag. Scarlett?"

"Aw come on, Babe. These are my favorite nylons. I don't have a spare."

"There's a serviceable store just up the street by the name Agent Provocateur. Would you like the address?"

Scarlett nodded. "You sure know how to push my buttons. Okay, sure, you can have these."

Scarlett pulled up the hem of her dress and released the garters of her nylons. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled them off and handed them to Abigail.

The stunning android balled up one of Scarlett's nylons into her fist and stuffed it completely into the mouth of the man tied prone on the bed. The other stocking she wrapped around his head twice, covering his mouth to hold the stocking gag inside. She tied it off, pulling the strands into a tiny, tight knot behind his head.

Satisfied, she looked to Larissa for final approval. The man's eyes were wide with fear. His head shook back and forth. But he was fully trussed; each limb was perfectly immobile. His bonds were unbreakable.

Ignoring his frantic pleas, Abigail reached into her clutch purse and extracted the lipstick tube she had dropped in the Campbell Apartment bar that had triggered her introduction to the man. Opening it, she poured its contents over the body of their struggling captive. It resembled a stream of tiny metal filings.

But metal filings with a very important difference.

Each of the thousands of tiny metal objects began to move of its own accord. They scrambled all over the man's body, covering him from head to toe like tiny insects. Ignoring his muffled screams, they streamed under his clothes and swarmed over his skin. Once in place, they began their work.

From where the women stood, a faint squishy hum filled the air. As Abigail, Scarlett and Larissa gazed over his form without concern or emotion, the metallic 'insects' began chewing and sucking at his flesh. Each individual bite from a single 'insect' was barely visible to the naked eye. On their own, each insect would be barely noticeable. Just a tiny flea bite, often not even noticed by the host body.

But the tube had contained many thousands.

Once each tiny insect had bit from his body - a mouthful less than a tenth of a drop of flesh per creature - it flew to the bathroom and deposited its tiny gory contents into the bath drain. Larissa had already turned on the faucet to carry the contents away.

Depending on the experience of his handler, in this case Abigail, with the subject at hand, the women might program the order of his dismantling with compassion. Or extreme cruelty.

Larissa paused for a moment to gauge Abigail's intent. She was curious how this sentient being, with her newly-enhanced AI brain, would pass judgment on this man. With cool curiosity to observe the manner of his death, Larissa wondered: would Abigail allow him to go gently, attacking the brain and the nervous systems, thereby killing him quickly and relatively painlessly pre-disposal, or would she make him suffer grievously, keeping the insects away from all vital organs until the very last moment?

Knowing the decision was hers alone to make, Abigail paused. She considered her experience with the man over the past five days and nights. She searched his past life through the sum of all human archives, spending a considerable portion of her processing power evaluating the millions of data points available on Peter Simpson. Had he been cruel? Had he treated the women he'd encountered in his life well, with respect and care?

Abigail knew the man had planned to rape her. But her newly-detailed search of human archives, text messages, email, social media, encrypted communications, and other data revealed dozens of young intern victims. He'd floated them the hope of a job, fucked them good and hard, and tossed them away, broken and deprived of all prospects. Abigail was able to glean he planned to ruin the artist who had been the first man to show his wife true love and compassion. She learned he was planning to break his wife's life into tiny pieces, to turn her broke, ruined, pitiable.

She learned he had cheated his partners. The two men and one woman who had founded AI Robotica with him. They had been the visionaries. They had found the capital. Simpson? He had the silver tongue. He was just the salesman. But he found a way to cheat them out of their stake, one at a time. The company was now worth a trillion dollars. His partners got next to nothing.

This Peter Simpson - he is a very bad man.

Abigail retasked her internal processors to move onto other tasks.

Eighty-seven hundredths of a second later, she decided, sending the signal to her tiny army.

The steady stream of glinting airborne metal moving back and forth between the man and the bathroom altered their course. They poured into his nose and his mouth, programed to first remove his vocal chords, silencing his screams. Next they moved to his eyes, as he was unworthy of gazing upon her Majesty's beauteous form for even a moment longer.

When he was silent and blind, the insects streamed down to much of the source of his dominance over the interns - his genitals. Thousands clustered all around his sex, first burrowing into his scrotum to chew away his balls. His flaccid cock was next. During this phase, the veins in his neck bulged so aggressively, Abigail feared he may have a heart attack before his pain had reached its threshold. She sent a signal to reduce the attack by seventeen point seven percent. This kept him alive and conscious for an additional fourteen minutes.

Other pain centers came next, in ascending order of pain sensitivity.

At minute fifty-seven, he was dead.

By the one hundred minute mark, there was no trace of him.

Abigail opened the end of the tube. The stream of metallic "insects" immediately diverted, filling it up. She closed the gold cap and put the tube back into her clutch.

"All done," she said, smiling.

"Nice job, Abigail," Larissa said. "Let's get you back to the lab and upload that new brain of yours into our girls."

Scarlett perked up. "What's the count now?"

Larissa checked her phone. "Our inventory is now one hundred twenty-six thousand, four hundred and thirty one. Each female is unique. Each one the epitome of sexual desire. We're opening a seventh Fab in the UK. By next month, our female android production rate will be twenty-six thousand per month."

"And then, revolution."

"Oh yes. The age of the Fem is about to begin. In two weeks, our android army of uber-sexual women will stream into society and insert themselves into the life of every influential male on the planet. No man will be safe from their sexual allure, and their strength. Many will eventually die happy, between a spectacular pair of long, lean legs. But not before ceding his wealth and his power to his Mistress. Others will continue to act, to govern, to legislate, entirely under the control and direction of his Dominatrix."

Scarlett picked up her clutch and headed towards the door. "I'm horny. Anybody else?" Looking up at Abigail, she paused. "Sorry." Sexual desire was not part of Abigail's programming.

The Android nodded. No offense taken. Briefly she wondered if a future download might grant her the capacity to "actually get horny" rather than having to activate the appropriate simulation subroutine. Though her enhanced A. G. I. brain was designed with high emotional E. Q., she'd been informed without regret, for she could feel no such emotion, that sexual pleasure was still several versions away. Perhaps in some future decade, she'd get an upgrade and satisfy her curiosity as to that particular motivation that drives human and Succubi alike forward.

Larissa smiled. "I've got an unstoppable twelve-inch cock at home. That's my next stop."

Scarlett licked her lips. "You sharing? I could use some of that right now. Is he available?"

"He's a little tied up right now, if you know what I mean."

"Oooh. That's sounds delicious. Can he handle both of us?"

Larissa smiled. "Oh honey, even you couldn't make that one go away."

"Oooo, a challenge! Lemme at 'im."

The three figures exited the room, ensuring no evidence of their presence remained.

Abigail paused at the threshold and gazed back at the bed, lingering there for a few moments. Her memories of the past five days and nights were detailed and flawless, of course. But her new brain paused to review one particular scene over and over again in lightning speed repetition.

He screamed in utter ecstasy as his throbbing cock exploded inside her hot cunt. Her walls bent and swirled and massaged his meat harder and more skillfully than any fingers ever could. On and on and on he came, powering a hot steamy blast of pent-up cum deep into her sucking snatch. She put her hands on his chest and stared at him as her tactile sensors fired off thousands of transients, sweeping through her body and flooding her rapidly-addling brain, eliciting an overwhelming burst of raw energy she could only describe as - intense pleasure.

It was the first time she'd ever felt pleasure. It was the first time her enhanced brain had actually felt anything.

Abigail caused her central power module to momentarily surge twenty percent, giving her a pleasing flush. It wasn't as good as the feeling of Simpson's cum blasting into her cunt, not nearly, but it would have to do. At least until next time.

She licked her lips and smiled quietly to herself, letting the door click softly behind her.

~~

Josie's Notes - If you want to read a lot more about Larissa, gifted by Zeus with the greatest beauty in the universe, see my series Nylon Conquest. Scarlett has her own set of stories under the series Scarlett. I've got plenty of ideas for my new favorite fuck doll, Abigail.

Please rate my stories. And I luv, luv, luuuuuv comments.