Unstable Diffusion Ch. 02

Chapter Two: The First Workday of the Rest of Your Life

While working at a huge, trend-chasing tech company was both profoundly stressful and existentially soul crushing, it did have some really nice amenities. On a normal workday, Darius started each morning with a workout in the modern, spacious company gym. He'd hit the free weights, do some pull-ups and crunches, then run two miles on the treadmill. After that, he'd shower, shave, throw on his work clothes and head to the cafeteria for a breakfast sandwich and some coffee.

Well, today was pretty fucking far from a normal day, but Darius still entered the lobby of PipeLine Plaza unshaved and in gym shorts. A workout was clearly off the table, but he couldn't go up to whatever the hell was waiting for him on twenty five with his metaphorical ass hanging out. Like the polite and helpful cafeteria / computer lady had said, he needed to act natural. He'd have to go to the gym and clean up, then grab a bite and head to...

"Oh god, I'm a writer," he said to himself. "A professional writer. I talked myself into a writing career. I'm heading up to write."

That revelation ringing in his head, he marched towards the elevator bank in a daze, barely noticing the posters lining the broad lobby walls, promoting season three of The Real Harem Girls of Beverly Hills and the film adaptation of Doctor Goldsnatch and the Twink Ray.

He did notice the beautiful blonde with the massive breasts straining against her skintight lycra leotard. She slid into the elevator behind him, boobs bouncing, yoga mat tucked under her arm. "Mornin' Dar!" she half panted, giving him a huge smile and waving with her free hand. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know... same mess, different day..." Darius stared hard at the floor indicator, to avoid staring at this lingerie model's magnificent heaving chest. That would be doubly embarrassing, given that he had absolutely no idea who this woman was, despite them being close enough for her to call him 'Dar.'

She chuckled at his answer. "Yeah, I hear that. All these people in for CumFest, the office is a complete zoo. What did you think about Nolan's speech at the all hands? Project Midas and all that?"

"Nolan!?" Darius was shocked back to reality - such as it was - by the mention of Nolan Mercer. How was he still here!? How the fuck was that slippery, soulless, useless, talentless nepo baby asshole in charge of the world's biggest porn studio? The man had about as much creativity as a composting toilet! Less even - at least a composting toilet created compost. And the fucking AI initiative was still here too? Darius had magicked the whole world into Pornoland and he was still at risk of losing his job to a hallucinating chatbot? Jesus Christ.

"Yeah that guy's really something else," the buxom blonde agreed. The elevator doors opened with a ding and she exited, giving Darius another smile on the way out. "See you later, Dar! Call me!" He nodded, watching her truly fantastic ass as she walked to the yoga studio and praying he'd attached a picture to her contact page on his phone.

It was only when the elevator started to close again that his eyes came unglued. Darius darted through the sliding doors and moved with purpose towards the men's locker room. No time to mess around - he'd get cleaned up, grab breakfast, then head up and see what the fuck he'd gotten himself into.

His purpose faltered as he took in the gym. Everyone in the room was gorgeous - dozens of the most beautiful men and women he'd ever seen in his life. Broad-chested hunks pumped iron on the free weights, muscles glistening with sweat, skintight shorts cut high to show off muscular thighs, tight buns and heavy bulges. A row of supermodels sprinted on the treadmills, sports bras pushed to their limits restraining tits that started at G cups and didn't slow down, tights painted onto long toned legs and beautiful bubble butts that bounced hypnotically with each stride.

Already slowing, Darius stopped dead when he reached the yoga studio. The whole room was ripped straight from an Eric Prydz video, cranked to eleven and tuned to pansexual. Twenty lithe, lycra-clad porn stars - male, female and androgynous - writhed on their mats as EDM blared from the speakers, stretching and twisting into poses more at home in the Kama Sutra than Vinyasa.

Legs spread wide, the blonde from the elevator caught sight of Darius gawking and gave him another warm smile. She beckoned for him to join the group, then ran her hands along her huge tits, completing the next pose in unison with the others. His eyes popped but he tapped at an imaginary wristwatch and resumed his mission. "No more distractions," he commanded.

His redoubled effort lasted another thirty steps, only to be stopped again by the entrance to the locker room. The locker room - singular. Darius searched for a second entrance, unsure if this was the men's or the women's, then watched a cute brunette girl and a tall blonde guy walk in together.

"Yeah, sure, why not," he mumbled and followed behind.

Inside was a repeat of the gym floor, only instead of a room full of the sexiest men and women Darius had ever seen, there was a room full of the sexiest naked men and women Darius had ever seen, casually dressing and undressing without the slightest embarrassment. Feeling inadequate among these demigods, Darius grabbed a locker and stripped anyway.

Several naked people greeted him as they passed, in tones that said they knew him well. He smiled and waved back, making a mental note to comb through the employee directory and memorize all these peoples' names ASAP. He moved to wrap his towel around his waist, but everyone else just carried them over their shoulders, so he did as the Romans did and headed to the showers.

In hindsight, it should not have surprised Darius that the showers were communal. Based on how the morning had gone so far, how could things be otherwise? Water cascaded, steam rose, hands scrubbed soap into naked flesh or rinsed shampoo from long hair, as a room full of lingerie models and Chippendale dancers washed together like they did it everyday - which, Darius supposed, they did. Breathing deep to tamp down his rising erection, he moved to the nearest showerhead and lathered up.

Eyes closed as he scrubbed his hair, Darius pondered his predicament. Yesterday, a clumsy lunch lady had dumped a tanker truck full of soup all over him, and had given him a magic laptop by way of apology. As inciting incidents went, it was pretty thin, but he'd written stupider shit. Of course, those were horny stories he'd written as a creative outlet, while this was real fucking magic in real fucking life that was really fucking happening to him.

So now he'd been transported into a horny fantasy world of his own design - though he hadn't known he'd been designing it when he'd drunkenly rattled off ideas to the AI assistant. What the fuck had he said last night!? He remembered some of it - making PipeLine a huge porn studio, a bunch of alt-history world building, something about ending disease? - but had he made every other person on Earth a perfect ten?

He definitely shouldn't have drunk so much. He'd pounded a couple of whiskeys while he was dicking around with Grand Design, then kept drinking after the stupid laptop's battery had died, as evidenced by the lingering hangover.

Maybe he had written in a planet full of hotties; it was definitely something he'd do to grab the reader's attention. Then again, maybe the AI had hallucinated extra changes without his say-so. Lord knows the fucking things were great at just making up...

Darius' train of thought was interrupted by a low groan from a few feet away. His eyes snapped open, and he turned to see a beautiful man with a swimmer's frame masturbating beneath the falling water. His eyes were closed, his face filled with bliss as he pumped a nine inch cock slowly and deliberately, free hand pressed against the tile wall to hold his weight.

Darius' throat caught as he watched the sight, his own eyes darting to see how everyone else reacted. Several people glanced over when the man groaned again, hand speeding up, but returned to their showers a moment later. Their indifference to the obscene display made Darius instantly hard, and soon his own hand was stroking in time with this beautiful stranger, all thoughts of magic and AI banished.

With a final moan, the man came, thick ropes of semen shooting onto the tile floor and washing down the drain. He opened his eyes, cum drunk and smiling, and caught sight of Darius jerking off a few feet away. They locked eyes and Darius froze, instantly ashamed of masturbating in front of this person, of masturbating to this person without their permission. He was a fucking creep, a sex pest, he was...

"Oh hey, Dar!" he said with a smile. "Didn't see you come in!" He glanced down at Darius' frozen hand and gave a little wave. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. You finish; we can talk after you come."

The apology did little to restore Darius' arousal. It simply converted shame into confusion. Darius stared at him, baffled. They knew each other? They jerked off in front of each other? They jerked off to each other? What the hell did that mean? What the hell are the rules of this place!? He stood paralyzed, hand on his dick, simultaneously unable to stop and unable to continue.

"Here," the man said, moving to Darius with a look that somehow contained sympathy and lust at the same time. "Let me help. You'll never get any writing done with blue balls."

And then the man was pressed against him, chest against his back, hand wrapped around Darius' cock, and the worry evaporated from Darius' mind entirely. The man pumped fast, working the shaft with purpose while his free arm circled Darius' chest to keep them close. He kissed Darius' neck, up and down, nibbled at his earlobe, then reached up to turn his head so they could kiss properly. Their tongues swirled in each others' mouths as the water fell, and Darius moaned as his cock was stroked, faster and faster.

It didn't take long for Darius to orgasm, shuddering as his cum splattered against the wall. He sagged into the stranger's embrace, mind lost to the wantonness of it all. He'd just made out in a public shower, gotten jerked off in front of a dozen naked people, and their collective reaction was nothing more than he'd have gotten giving a girlfriend a smooch on the cheek.

He could get used to this.

"There you go," the beautiful stranger said with a smile. "Pipe's are all clean. Now you can focus on work." He gave Darius another kiss then untangled himself. "I gotta go, beautiful boy - my call time is seven, and Jasmine will skin me alive if I'm not ready to shoot. But I should wrap by six pm. Call me, ok?"

Darius nodded dumbly. He didn't know this man's name, had no idea what history they had in this version of reality - but he was gonna figure it the fuck out. And not just this guy either - the blonde in the elevator had been just as friendly, just as ready to assist when he'd been confused. What would she have done in that yoga studio to help him focus? What about all the other sexy studs and beautiful bombshells who all knew his name? Who all smiled and waved whenever he passed? How many of them were ready to help in the same way?

Darius intended to find out.

Now properly motivated, he cleaned up, grabbed breakfast, and took the elevator up to twenty five, ready to face the first day of the rest of his life.

***

The twenty fifth floor of PipeLine Productions was nearly identical in layout to the twenty fifth floor of PipeLine CRM Solutions. Same open floor plan full of adjustable desks, same conference rooms lining either wall, same panoramic windows overlooking Mission Hill and the Bay, Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge visible in the distance.

One notable change was the massive banner hanging from the ceiling, showing a hot black chick getting railed by two studs, "CumFest 2026: Doubleteaming AI Innovation," emblazoned across it.

Gawking at the pornographic motivational poster, Darius jumped when a hand was waved in front of his face. "Steady on, man," Asa laughed, grabbing his arm. "It's a nice picture of Aliyah for sure, but let's not pull our cocks out 'til we're in the relief room, shall we?"

"Asa!" Darius had completely forgotten about Asa in all the madness, and seeing a familiar face sent a wave of relief through him that made his knees go weak. He hugged Asa tight, sighing deep as he squeezed. "Oh Asa, you have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"You alright, mate?" Asa hugged him back, concerned, but Darius pulled away after a second and waved it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. Just been a weird morning. A really weird morning. The weirdest morning." He paused, realization sending ice down his spine. As casually as possible, he asked, "Have you seen Tabitha around?"

"Oh, that spooky bitch is around here somewhere," Asa replied. "Probably lawyering it up in some conference room or another. Why?"

Darius sighed with relief again and shook his head. "Nothing, just curious. How's your morning going?"

"The usual disaster. I've got a presentation Friday on Q3 PLTV churn rate, and Ravi keeps 'encouraging' me to use Plutus to generate the slide deck. Bloody thing couldn't summarize it's way out of a wet paper sack; it misinterprets half the data and hallucinates the rest."

"I just cannot understand why Plutus is still here." Darius stared out the window, trying to make sense of it... for a 'forty stories of prime Bay Area real estate dedicated to making pornography' value of sense. "Surely a company like this doesn't need to invest billions into AI."

Asa gave a melodramatic gasp and put his hand over Darius' mouth. "Don't say that out loud!" he said, sotto voce. "If the Ministry of Truth hears you, they'll drag you down to the basement for reeducation!"

Darius froze, eyes going wide. Oh god, had he monkey's pawed himself into some dystopian sex nightmare? Would he get dragged away if he spoke out of line?

Asa blinked at Darius' fear. "That was a joke, mate... Are you sure you're alright?"

"ANNASON!" Heads turned at the shout. A red-faced man in his mid forties was standing in an office, pointing a finger at Darius like some terrible angel pronouncing God's Wrath. "Aaron A Aaronson, Editor / Showrunner," was engraved on a silver plaque beside the door.

Darius took a step back, body instinctively preparing to run from an apex predator, while his mind noted that this guy wasn't an underwear model or a porn star. He looked like a normal, baseline human, handsome but unremarkable - if you discounted the bloodshot eyes, throbbing neck veins, and aura of bone-deep exhaustion that poured off him like steam.

"Um... Yes?" he limply replied.

"FUCK LORD FAUNTLEROY ON YOUR LUNCH BREAK AND GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"

Legs not waiting for approval from the brain, Darius hustled to the office double time, dropping into a chair as Aaronson stalked behind his desk. The man tapped irritably at his keyboard for a moment, eyes darting across the screen as he read, then pounded his fist hard enough to make his coffee cup jump. "Those miserable ratfuck bastards!" he hissed. "Try to fuck me in the ass without a reach around? I'm gonna face fuck their mothers on national television... for charity!"

Darius sat very, very still, in the hopes that this man's vision was based on movement.

Ninety seconds of savage typing later, the man clicked his mouse with malicious intent, then collected himself and turned back to Darius. "Sorry - those pigs up in programming are trying to get us to adapt Moby Dick again. I don't fucking care if it's got 'Dick' in the title, you can't just turn it into a gay anthro furry slash fic - There's gotta be an emotional arc!"

He collected himself again. "So, Annason, it's the big day. Dungeons and Dildos, season one writer's room, day one - Darius Annason, head writer. You ready?"

D&Dil... a TV show? Head writer? Darius reeled at the thought. He'd suggested becoming a screenwriter as a goof, a theoretical example of what he might do if something as ridiculous as a multi-billion dollar Hollywood-style smut studio existed. He didn't know how to write a screenplay! He barely knew how to break his horny stream-of-consciousness ramblings into chapters! Plus, head writer implied other writers, and he'd specifically said all the other writers would be people he knew from Discord.

You know, the professional writers. Who wrote for a living. Who he was now in charge of, apparently.

Whatever expression was on Darius' face made Aaronson sigh. "Come on, Annason! This is your series. your fucking baby! You've busted your ass for fucking years to reach this point. You've got the girl naked and writhing on the bed - don't go soft on her now! If you let those useless hacks down there smell fear, they'll rip you to shreds and you'll get bumped down to assistant fluffer."

"So man the FUCK UP and take charge! You're the fucking alpha, the swinging dick, King Fucking Kong! Prison rules, kid - you find the biggest, baddest motherfucker down there and you beat him to within an inch of his literary life! Then the rest of the shitheels will fall in line and you can get some Fucking! Scripts! Written!" Aaronson pounded his fist on each of the last three words to emphasize his point.

Darius did not feel like King Fucking Kong after Aaronson's 'pep talk,' but he was right. Fear was not going to do him any favors at this point - and Dungeons and Dildos was his baby. He'd poured three years of late nights and weekends and vacations into writing that series, half a million words and counting, and he wasn't gonna let anyone ruin it but him.

"Don't take any guff from these swine," he answered, nodding grimly.

Aaronson nodded back, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face. "There you fucking go. They're not people, they're writers - God's perfect idiots. Get in there, cave in a few skulls, and everything will run like clockwork."

Then the smile drained away and he turned back to his monitor. "Now fuck off. I have a Zoom call with some executive shitheads from Development and I need to get ready." He reached into a drawer, pulling out a bottle of antacid and taking two deep gulps. He saw Darius' expression and offered the bottle. "Want a pull before you go?"

"... I'm good, thanks."

***

Darius went down to twenty two, fists clenched, ready to breathe fire on anyone who tried to bigfoot him. This was his room, his series, his ridiculous porned-up universe! If anyone even looked at him funny, he'd use his magic laptop and wish 'em into the cornfield! He marched to Writers Room One and threw the double doors open, face a mask of steely resolve.

He was met by a room of average-looking people chatting pleasantly around a long conference table, coffee and donuts in their hands - and a brunette secretary that had been ripped from an office-themed hentai, tits the size of cantaloupes squeezed into a skin-tight sheer white blouse that highlighted the red lacy bra beneath. She gave Darius a megawatt smile and moved to him, six inch platform heels clicking on the tile floor, juicy butt swaying like a metronome beneath a black skirt slit almost to her waist.

"Good morning, Mr Annason!" she chirped, getting close enough for Darius to smell her perfume and get a solid look down her canyon of cleavage. She presented a stack of file folders, and Darius swallowed when her fingers gently traced his forearm during the handoff.

"Here's all the pre-production notes; synopses, concept art, casting updates, etc. I've dropped it all in the shared drive, but I know you like to stick stuff up on the white board so I printed out hard copies as well."

She gestured at the assembly. "You haven't met most of your team in person yet, so I had name tags made up. They've got real names as well as any pen names that PipeLine publishes. You've got the room for the rest of the week, so you folks can settle in. I'll make certain maintenance doesn't touch anything but the trash cans."

"If there's anything you need, anything at all, just Slack me and I'll sort it out." The secretary took another step forward, breasts pressing gently into Darius' arm as she leaned in to whisper. "I'm entirely at your service, Dar." Then she turned back to the group and waved. "Bye everyone! Good luck!"

After taking a moment to let blood return to his brain, Darius went to meet his team. He circled the desk, shaking hands and making pleasantries, trying not to freak out as he read the names pinned to their shirt pockets and blouses.

They were all here; Stan Himbeaux, Tinkerbell, Polar Beast, Roadcrew, Razmataz, Wriggle, Cerebus, CarbonSteel, LongBluePig, Monika Lace, KindStar, even DaGreatSage. He'd said everybody cool, and he'd gotten everybody cool - every author he associated with online, anyone he considered a peer or a role model, anyone who'd shown him a kindness when he'd gotten started - all assembled in one place, ready to help turn his horny nonsense into a multi-million dollar TV show.

He sincerely hoped they were getting paid well. Maybe he could magic them up a raise during lunch.

Introductions done, Darius sat down, opened the first file folder and started thumbing through. His eyes popped at the sight, and he spread several drawings out in front of him. "Oh wow, they got Dorin to do all the concept art?"

"It's great stuff, right?" Stan grabbed the model sheet for Seductra the Sorceress, nodding his approval. "I just saw it all last night. She does the best midriffs in the business. Must've cost a fortune to drag her away from the comic to draw all this. I wouldn't get out of bed for less than ten grand with all the money she's got."

Darius stuck the character models to the whiteboard, then turned to face the assembled authors, any of them more successful than him in the real world, all of them expecting him to lead. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, then rubbed his hands together.

"Alright kids, let's get started."

For the next four hours, they broke down the first two stories in the series, outlining the plot, dividing the story into episodes and building a web of the characters and their relationships. Despite Aaronson's dire warning, the other authors were just as cool in real life as they were online; smart, funny, supportive, wonderful people Darius was glad to know.

They weren't afraid of calling out his bullshit though - when Darius had suggested pulling back on Wynder's "Sluttiest Bard in Amoria" subplot, he'd been shouted down by the whole group, several of them throwing pretzels at him when he tried to justify it. Finally, they simply chanted "Dragonfucker! Dragonfucker!" until he wrote it on the whiteboard in all caps, which drew a rousing cheer and high fives all around.

The secretary stuck her head in at the noise, breasts threatening to spill out of her blouse as she leaned through the doorway. "Everything ok?" Darius assured her all was well, and she nodded. "Well, it's past noon anyway, so you guys should take your lunch break. Meet back here in ninety!" The group quickly vacated, making a beeline for the elevator, but Darius was held back.

"Tabitha Aldrich was looking for you," she reported, a note of disappointment in her voice. "Said she needed you and would be on twenty-five all day." Darius thanked her and moved to leave, but she didn't release her grip on his arm.

"I need you too, Dar," she purred, pressing into him. "We haven't eaten together in weeks, and I'm awful hungry."

***

Darius resumed his pondering as he headed for the elevators. Remaking the universe hadn't been on his to-do list last night, but so far things were going pretty well. In point of fact, it was the best day of his life. He'd gotten a sexier world, a better career, and a fantastic handjob by a beautiful man in a public shower stall - with two beautiful women making it clear they were happy to do the same.

As far as rashly-made wishes go, Darius had made out like a bandit - and that worried him.

Like Pratchett said, magic always presents its bill sooner or later, and it's always more than you can afford. What was the angle, what was the catch? Obviously the soup baptism was a setup, a way for the polite and helpful lunch lady to put the red laptop in his hands.

But why? Who was she, what did she want? Why the hell had she picked him? Because he was a writer? Surely there were better candidates for Demiurge than a hobbyist smut peddler?

Darius looked down at his messenger bag, the red laptop nestled within like a loaded gun. He hadn't dared to pull it out this morning, taking D&Dil notes on his phone instead. Just cracking the lid might be tempting fate, and trying to use a magical, reality-altering laptop to do work stuff was begging for trouble. Plus, with one thing and another, he'd been pretty busy - not a ton of quiet time to sit down and change the universe.

He was still lost in thought when he absently knocked on Tabitha's office door. Her pale, beautiful face popped up from behind the huge monitors on the desk and she beamed at him. "Darius! How's it going man? How's the new gig treating you?"

"It's certainly not what I expected to be doing today," he replied with absolute honesty, "but I'm starting to get a grip on the situation. I think. Maybe."

"You're a great writer, and you put together a great team; it's all gonna work out, I promise." She turned back to her screens, typing as she talked. "But forget work for now; I've been busting my fantastic ass for hours on this contract and I need a fucking break. You wanna grab a relief room with me?"

Darius wasn't quite sure what she meant by 'relief room.' Asa had mentioned relief rooms too, hadn't he? He was trying to formulate a way to ask without sounding like a crazy person... but then Tabitha stood and the words fell out of his brain, replaced by a single gasp from his slack jaw. The woman's breasts were enormous, the biggest he'd seen today, a pair of alabaster basketballs pushed up by a black lace bra, the plunging neckline of Tabitha's tight satin blouse showing off several linear yards of cleavage.

Tabitha saw Darius' expression and blushed, an embarrassed smile on her face. "Yeah, whoops, surprise! Paula's bachelorette party was Saturday night, and I got peer-pressured into going full milk truck when we all got boosted. Thank god I had some old outfits that fit from college; otherwise I'd have spent half of my paycheck buying replacements on Sunday." Situation explained, she grabbed her purse and led Darius down the hall.

"Wait, you got your breasts expanded for a bachelorette party? Just like that, as a goof? How does it work?" Darius was once again off his axis, mind reeling at the implications.

"I know, I know, it's cliche, but Paula really wanted the classic 'bachelorette' experience - bar crawl, boosting parlor, brothel - the whole thing, just like in the movies. And since I used to really lean into the 'big titty goth' thing in college, everyone insisted I be the Boost Bitch until after the wedding."

Tabitha chuckled to herself at 'Boost Bitch.' "Not like the other girls held back much. Paula told me her seamstress threw a fit when she sent everyone's updated measurements for the dresses. They make those things to be adjustable, but there are limits. God, if you could see the ass on Jocelyn right now! You could set your beer can on it!"

"But how does it work? You just walked into a shop and added twelve cups to your bra size?" Darius knew it was a stupid question as he asked it, that he'd get a blank stare and concern for his mental health, but he just had to know, and waiting for the right moment to look it up on Wikipedia would drive him crazy.

"Fourteen," she corrected. "P cups for Paula, get it? And we had a reservation; you can't roll up to a boosting parlor in a party wagon with two dozen drunk chicks and say 'A round of huge asses for everyone, chop chop!' They had everything waiting for us, all we had to do was..."

Her explanation was cut short when they reached what Darius remembered as one of the rarely used 'Meditation Rooms,' but was now marked 'Relief Room Four.' Tabitha pressed her badge against the reader and the door popped open. The space within was dimly lit, the floor covered with padded mats and littered with large cushions in all different shapes. There was a sink in the far corner, a rack of cleaning supplies and a huge bottle of hand sanitizer bolted above it, along with a paper cup dispenser and a box of tissue. A large IKEA cube shelf sat on the opposite wall, several spaces filled with clean towels, along with a basket half full of spent towels.

Tabitha gave a contended sigh as the door closed behind them, tension draining from her shoulders. "Finally. I've been jonesing since the standup meeting." She hung her purse and suit coat on a hook, then turned back to look at Darius, an inviting smile on her face - and he suddenly understood what "Relief Room" meant, and why the emphasis had seemed so odd when she'd said "fucking break."

"So were your balls completely drained by the Eloi in the gym this morning, or do you have something left for me? 'Cause I could really use a deep dicking and a mouth full of cum before the meeting with the Tubi people this afternoon..."

Darius said nothing, shocked into silence hearing Tabitha ask to get fucked so casually, but his erection did the talking for him, instantly tenting up his khakis. This did not go unnoticed; Tabitha nodded her approval and unbuttoned her blouse. "Answers that question," she joked. "Now if you'd be so good as to disrobe, I'd like your cock inside me as soon as possible."

There was another moment of hesitation, Darius' mental tires still spinning, but then Tabitha reached back to unhook her bra and he found traction. He yanked his polo shirt over his head, tossing it into a corner without looking. The undershirt followed, while he frantically trying to kick off both shoes at once, nearly tripping himself. Tabitha laughed at his eagerness, dropping her skirt to the floor and moving to him in nothing but her lacy black panties.

"Easy, handsome. Don't wrinkle your clothes - we gotta go back to work after this." She pressed into him, unbelievable breasts almost enveloping his chest, and ran a finger playfully against his tented erection. "No precum stains either. Fold them up neatly and put them in a cubby, along with my skirt and our shoes. Nice and slow; no running by the pool."

Darius took a deep breath and slowed down, recovering the discarded clothes. Tabitha grabbed a few cushions as he worked, making an impromptu nest, then sat down against the largest and peeled off her panties. She tossed them to Darius, who dutifully added them to her pile of clothes, then she spread her legs and rubbed a finger between her folds, a little yummy noise rising up as she played with herself.

"Take the pants off slowly," she commanded, free hand tugging a nipple as big as a wine cork. "Make me work for it a little."

He watched her display a moment, entranced, but quickly pulled himself together. "What happened to getting my cock inside you as soon as possible?" he quipped.

"That was 'ten seconds ago' Tabitha," she replied. "She was too horny to know what she wanted. 'Right now' Tabitha wants 'right now' Darius to strip for her and watch her masturbate."

Darius did just that, making a meal of working his belt and unbuttoning his fly as his Goth dream girl rubbed at herself, eyes fluttering as she slowly pumped two fingers in and out of her wet snatch. He pulled down his zipper slow enough to hear the click of each tooth, and Tabitha released her breast to rub at her clit, gently writhing under her own touch. He let his pants fall away, the front of his boxer briefs slick with slime as his erection throbbed beneath it.

He picked up the pants and carefully started to fold them, but Tabitha groaned and jerked her head. "Ok, enough. Ditch your drawers and get down here - I want to lick your cock clean."

Stripshow officially over, Darius pulled down his underwear with purpose and dropped to his knees, crawling to Tabitha, eyes burning with desire. She reached out and practically dragged him next to her, moaning into his mouth as their lips locked. Her hands were at his cock instantly, stroking the shaft, rubbing the precum into the head, gently kneading his balls. He moved to her pussy, hand exploring the contours of her sex, one finger inside to play with her g-spot while his thumb rolled against her clit.

Shivering at his touch, Tabitha eventually pushed Darius onto his back, slid down the mats, and did what she'd promised. She licked every drop of precum from his cock, their eyes locked as her tongue worked. Job done, she kissed every inch of her cleaned-up toy, up and down the shaft and all over the head, one hand fondling his balls as she worked, tiny streaks of black lipstick smearing against the brown skin of his shaft.

Darius' head rolled back at the sensation, a tiny 'oh god' escaping, and Tabitha grinned like she'd won a small prize. Then, with a final lick of her blackberry lips, she took Darius' cockhead in her mouth, swirling the tip with her tongue and sighing with satisfaction. She bobbed and sucked, going slow, stroking the base with one hand, watching Darius' face fill with bliss as she worked. Her other hand returned to her pussy, rubbing at her clit in time to the blowjob.

"Turn," Darius ordered between ragged breaths. "Spin around, get on top; I want to eat you out."

The suggestion got a big thumbs up from Tabitha, and a few seconds of shifting had her laying on top of Darius, giant breasts pressed tight against him as she put his dick back in her mouth. Darius reached up, gripping her ass with both hands and pulling her dripping pussy close. After years of dreaming and fantasizing, he finally ran his tongue along Tabitha's slit, and the flavor was everything he'd imagined.

She moaned the moment he started, her rhythm briefly interrupted by pleasure, and the sound made Darius feel like a million bucks. He licked and slurped for all he was worth, wanting the first orgasm he gave Tabitha to be one she'd never forget. Some small part of his mind pointed out that they probably fucked all the time in this universe or timeline or whatever - but the rest of his buzzing nervous system did not give a shit. First time or hundredth time, Darius was going to make Tabitha come, hard - whatever it took.

His efforts started paying dividends almost immediately. Tabitha writhed above him, breath growing ragged, gasps and moans getting more insistent every second. "More... keep going... just like that..." she begged, her blowjob losing focus as her creamy thighs twitched around Darius' head. Finally, she abandoned her work entirely and sat on Darius' face, back arching and pawing at her own massive tits.

"OhfuckohfuckOHFUCK!" she repeated, ever louder, Darius holding her down as she rocked in time to his tongue. At last she came with a full body spasm, shaking uncontrollably, one hand pulling hard on a nipple, the other stuffed in her mouth to muffle her cries.

Tabitha fell off of Darius' face, flopping bonelessly on the mats, breath racing and grinning like an idiot. "Phew... Got a little... distracted there." She gave a tiny, exhausted wave, the gesture apparently an act of supreme effort. "I will get you back... once my legs start working again."

Seeing his office crush lying naked beside him, flushed and panting from an orgasm he'd given her... Darius was gonna kiss that lunch lady, whatever her magical schemes might turn out to be.

He returned Tabitha's grin, moving beside her and putting a hand on her cheek. "All good, Tab. Getting you off that hard was worth ten blowjobs. You just relax, catch your breath; I'm happy to be here with you. I don't need - "

His monologue was interrupted by Tabitha's hand pressing over his mouth. "You're very sweet and all, but please shut up. If you think I'm letting you out of this room unfucked after that performance, you're out of your mind. You won't get any more work done if I leave you with blue balls, and then Aaron will have us both impaled on stakes in the lobby, as an example to the others."

"Plus, I may not be as big a slut as you, but I still have a reputation to maintain. If I don't milk you dry, they'll kick me out of the Big Titty Goth Union. So I'm sorry, Darius, but I must absolutely insist you pump a load of hot cum into me. There's just no alternative."

Darius laughed, the sound muffled by the hand still covering his mouth. Tabitha pulled that hand away, but darted up and kissed him again before he could speak. They made out for another minute, Darius squeezing her fabulous breasts while she slowly stroked his cock. She kept her hand and tongue working just long enough to recover and get Darius fully hard again, then she let go and bent herself over one of the large triangular cushions, presenting her fantastic ass and glistening pussy.

He rose to his knees and slid into her, gripping her hips as he buried his cock down to the hilt. They groaned in unison at the sensation, then Darius started to thrust. He moved with purpose - long, unhurried strokes meant to draw things out - and soon Tabitha was rocking in time to the motion, gripping the body cushion tight with both hands. She turned back to look at him, sweaty, disheveled and smiling, already starting to huff from the effort and the pleasure.

It wasn't long before Darius was sweating himself, breathing hard as he pumped, speeding up as minutes passed. Tabitha moved a hand to her clit, rubbing away as she impaled herself against him. For a time, neither of them spoke, letting their grunts and gasps do the talking. Then Tabitha broke the silence, whispering "faster... harder..." again and again, each repetition equal part command and prayer. Whatever pacing or moderation Darius had left boiled away at her words, and he fucked for all he was worth, driving her into the mat with each frantic thrust.

The pressure rose, Tabitha writhing and whimpering beneath him, and finally Darius went over the edge. He gripped her hips tight, thrust one final time, and came deep inside her, balls clenching, cum filling her pussy in long glorious pulses that felt like Heaven. Darius struggled to keep himself upright, instantly spent from the effort, but held fast to let Tabitha finish. She rubbed at herself desperately, each breath a moan of pleasure, and it was only a handful of heartbeats before she started to shudder. With one final "oh GOD," her second orgasm crashed down and washed her away, body going limp against the cushion.

They both held there, lost to sensation, for what could have been seconds or hours, then Darius finally pulled out, cum leaving a trail on the mats as he sat down heavily. Tabitha rolled, looking up at him from her back, her eyes half closed as the aftershocks reverberated. "Now that's... the kind of... lunch break a girl... could get used to." She gave him a cum-drunk smile and waved vaguely towards the towel rack.

"Can you get me something to clean up? I'd do it... myself... but some beautiful boy just fucked me stupid and I can't seem to move."

Darius was feeling rather drained himself, but after that orgasm, he would fly if Tabitha commanded it. He grabbed wipes and towels for both of them, and they spent an exhausted but happy few minutes cleaning up and redressing. Darius sprayed and wiped down the mats while Tabitha fixed her makeup, and once she was presentable she squeezed him tight, breasts threatening to pop out of her blouse. She kissed him on the cheek, leaving blackberry lipstick behind.

"Thanks Darius, I needed that. Like, seriously, I think I would've choked Jeremy to death if I hadn't gotten some of the tension fucked out of me before our two o'clock. I have no idea why you waste your time writing when you could make the big bucks with an escort license - but I'm not complaining." She smooched him one more time and pulled away. "That said, I am absolutely starving. I'm gonna snag a protein bar from the cafeteria. Tomorrow let's actually get lunch on our lunch break."

With a final wave, she left him alone in the relief room, hand on his cheek, stunned as the realization of what just happened sank in.

"Yeah, good meeting, Tab," he said to the closed door. "See you tomorrow."

End of Chapter Two