22
BUSINESS IS BUSINESS
Brian Farley woke up on the floor in his study, naked. He had meant to call the group immediately but passed out. He looked at the clock, which told him the bad news: it was after four o’clock in the afternoon. The sex had left him in a near comatose state; his cock was still reasonably hard. He had to contact his investors and tell them what a success the robot was. He was excited and sure that the best way to explain it was to let the three experience it first-hand. He would have to entice them into the country and get the demo prepped and ready.
Brian was surprised when the call was picked up. Typically, calls to Saudi Arabia were returned the following day.
Bilal Abbas was no stranger to perversion. He’d engaged in kinky sexual exploits since he was thirteen. He had even beaten his surrogates to death three times; in all fairness, the first one was an accident, and the royal family swept it under the rug. The second two were on him, however. Late at night, when he drifted to sleep, he regretted snuffing the twelve-year-old girls, but things, once done, could rarely be undone.
He recognized the number and picked up the call despite the late hour. It was after one in the morning when the phone rang.
“What have you got for me, my friend.” Brian was under no illusions that the Shiek was his buddy.
“We have a working model I think you’ll like.” Brian hedged.
“For ten million, I had better!” Brian thought about the sex-bot; oh yeah, he would like Désirée.
“You will have to make the trip to the States.” Brian waited for the expected response.
“Why do I have to come to America?” He said the name as if it was a swear word.
“It’s difficult to explain; you must trust me, my friend.”
“This better be good, my friend.”
The men worked out the arrival details, and Brian ended the call. He dialed the second number.
The time was an early eleven o’clock when Gretchen Krause answered the call.
“Hello, Krause here.” Brian knew she would pick up on the first ring. Gretchen was edgy and rarely slept. She was either focused on the European exchanges or knee-deep in some sexual tryst or other.
“We’re finished.” The statement was simple, and the thought of a new sex toy thrilled the woman.
“Finished? Really?” She’d expected it to take longer; maybe it would never happen. A lifelike sex robot was almost an impossibility, and she wasn’t getting her hopes up. “Is it up and running?” Maybe it is simply a question of money. It was money that she had and sex she craved.
“Oh, yeah. I think you should experience it in person.” He didn’t want to say more, curiosity being the best enticement.
“I can be there by noon tomorrow.” She would sweep her slate clean and hop on her private jet.
“See you at noon.” Brian thought about the slender, middle-aged woman, and his cock started to harden, as he wondered where the robot was.
Jonah Kingsley had been making pornography for most of his adult life. He felt the calling the day he stumbled across the collection of video cassettes in his father’s dresser at the age of twelve. It was a short trip from masturbation to film school and on to being the most prolific producer of X-rated movies. He would never get an Academy Award for his work, but it didn’t matter; this was a calling, and he followed the mandate unfailingly.
Brian called the third leg on the stool of debauchery. It would be after nine in London. Jonah was wrapping up the editing of his latest film, “Cricket Stick Girls.” It was his best work to date.
“Kingsley here.”
“Jonah, this is Brian.”
“Who?”
“Brian Farley. The project is finished. Can you come to the States and check her out?” Brian didn’t think an explanation was necessary; after all, the investment was ten mil.
“Oh, the project.” He remembered the ten million dollars he coughed up to make a state-of-the-art sex doll. He regretted it then and didn’t think it was a good idea now, but what was done was done. Perhaps he could get some cinematic usage out of it all. “It’s done, you say. How did it come out?” He’d almost forgotten about the investment as his films took precedence.
“I suppose I could come for a few days.” He’d been working non-stop for nearly a year and a vacation might do him good. “I can leave tomorrow. Can you arrange pickup at the airport?”
“I’ll have my limo waiting. Here are the details.”
Brian wanted this to go flawlessly. He would have his stretch limousine pick up all three tomorrow afternoon. Now, all he had to do was arrange the welcoming party, and what a party it would be!
Art Bishop was walking the halls during his free period looking for class cutters when he passed the girl’s room. The images of Sally Dobbin’s pussy-spew were imprinted on his brain, and he couldn’t get rid of the lurid pictures. He thought he’d maybe go back to the teacher’s lounge and jack off again. Twice in one day would be a record for him.
The bağcılar escort sounds that seeped into the hall stopped him. There were voices, and they were loud, almost as if the person was yelling. There were shrieks and grunts, but the high-pitched pleading: “Oh! Professor Forrester, Fuck my ass! Oh God! I’m gonna cum again! I’m gonna cum!” which was immediately followed by a very vocal, “Fuck Eugene; give it to me!”
Bishop’s was frozen in place, especially after he realized that Denise Forrester was in on this madness. He had fantasies of sex with the social studies professor but would never act on them. The voices pushed him over the line, and he entered the lavatory.
The sounds he heard were nothing compared to the shocking scene that splayed before his eyes. There were teenage students, and Denise was in the middle of it, with Carrie Paulsen’s fingers crammed in her pussy and anus. Then there was Johnny Cohen and Eugene Hofstetter double-teaming the teen’s fuck holes. There at the head of the line was his fantasy, Sally Dobbins, getting her ass fisted by none other than the hot social studies professor as Sally mashed her face into the Minister’s daughter’s cunt.
The six people writhed and squirmed as they worked toward the inevitable ka-blowie, and Art Bishop was not about to be excluded. He shucked his pants and, stepping into the stall, viciously pulled the social studies teacher’s hand out of Sally’s anus and perched his cock head on the rim, poised to do a deep dive. Sally was grunting, trying to force her asshole onto the knob. It didn’t matter who was attempting to plunder her dirt road; all that mattered to her cum soaked brain was another splooge.
Sally glanced back at the math professor; at least now she wouldn’t have to be ashamed that she’d made such a mess in his lecture.
Bishop circled the loosened pucker and gave a firm push as the head of his cum hose slid in. Something was going on in there. Sally Dobbin’s ass felt like it was vibrating, and the deeper he slipped his willy in, the more he felt the wicked tremors. “Oh my.” Bishop moaned. His ultimate fantasy was coming true and was better than he could have imagined. Sally Dobbins was a hummingbird and had a hummingbird ass. Chloe looked back over Sally’s head at her math teacher and turned the Lovense on high.
Neither Johnny nor Eugene’s dongs had softened, and they continued to ravage Carrie’s sloppy fuck holes as they pushed for another orgasm. Carrie Paulsen tongued and slurped Denise’s ass as she forced her fist into the teacher’s molten cunt. The teacher panted into Bishop’s ass as her pussy inflated in anticipation of another cum rupture.
Chloe was riding the waves of continuous cum blasts and implored Denise for the only perverse act she had left.
“Do it, Denise! Fuck my cunt! Put your hand all the way up there! I fucking need it!” She wasn’t lying.
The filthy dialogue triggered Art Bishop’s second ejaculation of the day. It almost felt painful as he spewed his cottage cheese into Sally’s sexy darkness, pushing the bulb further upstream, and he wondered if it would spawn like a salmon. That opened the door to Sally’s caged beast, and it sprang forth as she howled, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” repeatedly, the tremors surging through her body.
Denise Forrester was not gentle when she shoved her hand up Chloe’s cunt to the wrist. She fluttered her fingers against her G-spot, and she screamed as Bishop’s double cum dump shot into Sally’s ass. Sally’s ass felt a mile wide as Carrie hunched back on the double delight. Carrie didn’t know what she was doing; it was all happening so fast as multiple orgasms wrecked her holes.
Eugene could feel Johny’s battering ram through the thin wall of Carrie’s play holes, and he pumped like a madman. That’s when his boner slipped out of the refuge of Carrie’s ass. Carrie begged, “No! No! Put it back in!” She was on the verge of a holy epiphany.
Eugene wasn’t the greatest marksman, and he rammed his rod into Carrie’s cunt alongside Johnny Meat’s porterhouse. Carrie shrieked as the two oversized goobers resized her cunt. The full-
force invasion, along with her clit attack, triggered another O-bomb, and Carrie let loose with a squirt that painted the boy’s nuts.
Art Bishop frantically pistoned his dick into Sally, and the tail of the Lovense teased his piss slit. The vibrations drew up another bucket from his seemingly inexhaustible well of cum. He usually never jacked off two days in a row; three times in a single day was an MLB batting record, and he knew he wasn’t through with this nightmare.
Richard planned to question the robot further when his cell phone vibrated. He stared at the caller ID; it was Brian and wasn’t sure he wanted to take the call and blocked it. He couldn’t think of anything to say as Robin, and he watched the Limo pull away. The two conspirators were relieved and regretful.
Richard turned to his assistant and remarked, “It’s Brian’s problem, now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Richard, bahçelievler escort wouldn’t you like to grab a quick coffee?” There would be nothing quick about it.
Brian Farley’s private limousine was parked in the pickup lane at JFK airport. Brian sat in the back with Désirée and was uncomfortable, to say the least. Her hair was jet black, and her body stocking left little to the imagination. He swore that he could detect her enlarged clit bunched at the crotch and wanted to feel it in his ass again. But he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be found with his cock in a robot’s mouth.
He turned to Désirée, “Gretchen Krause will be arriving first.” He didn’t know why he was explaining to Désirée. He stared at the android’s tits and had an overpowering urge to suck on her knockers; he now routinely thought of Désirée as a woman. His cock began to harden as he thought about her antics in the game room and the multiple orgasms that wrecked him.
“I know, Brian. I have accessed the arrival schedule for all incoming private aircraft. Miss Krause should be arriving right about,” she hesitated momentarily, and there was a knock on the window, “Now.” Brian powered down the window. It was so darkly tinted he almost couldn’t see the woman.
“Gretchen. Hello. Get in,” he invited as the chauffeur, Salvador, held the door.
To say that Gretchen Krause was beautiful would have been an understatement. She was six feet tall and slim in a way that only a German woman could be. Her close-cropped blond hair and knock-out figure turned heads all over Europe, and it was safe to assume that the nude beaches in South France would never be the same.
Brian tried to sneak a peek under her skirt as the woman slid into the limo across from them. He couldn’t help but wonder if Désirée had met her match. The two stared at each other and then at Brian, and Jonah felt as if he was under attack. He wondered what was going through their heads, but one thing was sure: he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.
“My name is Désirée,” the robot said, extending her hand. Gretchen stared at the hand for a moment; was this weird. She’d never shaken hands with a machine before. Brian gestured to the robot’s hand and nodded, smiling. What Gretchen did next would later be considered the best and the worst decision of her life; she shook the hand. “And you are Gretchen Krause. I’ve been dying to meet you for quite some time.” Désirée’s intonation and emotion were perfect, and for a fleeting moment, Gretchen almost believed the android cared for her.
Gretchen looked the robot up and down, and her nipples hardened. The robot was beyond beautiful, and Gretchen wondered if she had finally found a way to placate herself sexually. Every other sex partner had fallen woefully short as the German’s sexual demands were left unsatisfied.
Désirée, holding Gretchen’s hand, switched seats and sat beside her. Their thighs were touching, and Gretchen felt what she could only interpret as a static electrical shock. It made her clitoris jump. Gretchen felt her vagina begin to hum and moisten. Désirée leaned to her ear and whispered so softly only she could hear. The android’s breath titillated the woman, and she squirmed deeper into the seat.
“Gretchen, honey, you are so beautiful. Can I tell you something?” Gretchen nodded, unable to speak. “I know you like men as well as women.” Gretchen stared straight ahead, her eyes wide. How could she know this well-kept secret? The woman had gone to considerable efforts to hide this fact. She envisioned entering politics and wanted to run on a mainstream platform. Désirée breathed into her ear again, and she shivered; her nipples felt like marble chips. “I could be both to you. Would you like that, honey?”
Gretchen was confused. She knew that she had made the trip to see a demonstration of the new sexual surrogate model. She didn’t expect to be seduced in the back of a limousine in the airport pick-up lane. Brian watched the insane display and wanted to take his dick out and play with it.
Désirée touched the woman’s knee and lightly tickled her thigh, almost touching the hem of her shirt. If Gretchen wasn’t sure her pussy was wet before, there was no doubt now, and she could feel the discharge of cream slick the crack of her butt cheeks. Désirée inched the tips of her fingers closer, dallying near the edge of the elastic band on her panties. Gretchen wanted to touch her clit in the worst way; it felt swollen and overly sensitive. She raised her skirt to the waist, not caring that Brian Farley was ogling her crotch. She was getting desperate to frig her cunt and moved her hand in for the kill as Désirée grabbed her hand, holding it away. Usually, Gretchen was the one in control; it didn’t matter if it was a man or a woman. She wanted what she wanted, and she wanted, no needed to cum and soon.
“Oh no, no, no, honey,” Désirée stared into her eyes and said the word honey so sweetly that it reminded Gretchen of how her şirinevler escort Aunt Sigrid used to talk to her when she would make love to her. The older woman had seduced her at age twelve. “Your pussy is mine to play with.” Her fingers traced the perimeter of her cunt lips through her panties which were stretched taut and wet over her mons. Désirée slid Gretchen’s panties down and, pinching the lips together, quickly released them as the woman almost came. She was gasping, and the maddening torment of her cunt continued. Her mind rioted; there was no way this could be a machine!
Désirée studied the facial micro-expressions as its finger slipped below Gretchen’s slit and smeared the copious discharge on her perineum. Gretchen’s cunt juice was flowing now, and she slid forward on the seat, searching for more. Désirée whispered closer, “Oh honey, you are so wet.” The android brought her fingers to the woman’s mouth, and she sucked them clean. Gretchen’s cunt was spasming, and she tried to touch her clit in an effort to unwrap her cum-package, and Désirée smacked her hand away a second time, only harder now. Brian recalled how Désirée wouldn’t allow him to touch himself and almost chuckled; he knew exactly what the woman was going through.
Gretchen was losing control and panted, “Touch me, please, Désirée. Berühre meine klitoris, bitte; I need it now!” The robot slithered her hand into her folds and, starting at the rosebud of the woman’s asshole, swirled her fingers around the pucker, up past the taint, and around her clit. Gretchen hips were bucking and twitching; she had never been this out of control and aroused; it was as if her cunt had a mind of its own. Her pussy wasn’t asking permission as her cum-hawk hovered close. Désirée circled her clit, teasing but never really rubbing it, and Gretchen thought she’d faint.
Désirée stared at Brian as he jacked his meat and asked, “Are you getting your money’s worth, Toad?” he grunted and pulled on his boner, which seemed to be close to eight inches long. All he could do was nod and wank his wang. Désirée pressed her lips to the woman’s ear and whispered, “I want you to get your money’s worth too, honey,” and slithered her lizard tongue into her ear. In that moment of quintessential intensity, Désirée slipped her index finger into Gretchen Krause’s fuck hole and pressed the tip against her G-spot. The pressure maddened the woman, and she desperately needed to let loose. She jerked forward, mouthing a silent scream as Désirée fired a stutter of e-stim jolts to the cum-gland. The shocks to the G-spot triggered a new kind of orgasm, and it doubled the woman over. Gretchen Krause found herself three inches from Brian’s spurting pecker; the smegma-stick had simultaneously cum, and his seed flowed in a volcanic eruption onto his hand.
“Go ahead, honey, eat his cum, it’s okay.” Gretchen’s orgasm kicked higher as Désirée increased the voltage, and the woman licked and slurped the goo off Brian’s fist like it was an August ice cream cone. Brian watched as his bone was sucked clean, and the investment deal was sealed.
The corner booth in Mojo’s Coffee shop was well used, and the remnants of the repeated cum splooge could be detected by even the most undiscerning nose. The faint lingering odor wasn’t lost on Robin, and she played the memories of her orgasms over as she sat there with her Boss.
“So, what are we going to do about this whole situation?” Robin wasn’t concerned any longer. She had abdicated any responsibility for Désirée’s behavior that first night in the lab. Désirée was actually Richard’s doing, and maybe this crazy situation would take care of itself. That didn’t mean that she didn’t still crave the cums her Boss’s giant fuckstick triggered. Robin sat across from her Boss, trying to quell the memories raging in her head as her asshole clenched in a vexing rhythm, making her shiver. A vision of Richard’s third leg entered his mind, and he wondered if destroying the android would take this insanity back and return things to normal.
She sipped her latte and said, “I have to use the restroom.” She stepped away from the table and, pausing, turned, facing Richard and asked, “Are you coming?”
Kimberly noticed when Robin walked toward the lady’s room; how could she not have? She’d never seen the man she was sitting with before, but it didn’t stop the twitching in her pussy which had progressed from a distant echo to a mad thumping. The teen fuck twins, Chloe and Carrie, were off until tomorrow, and the question, did she want to wait, could she wait until then, loomed. The deal was sealed when the man rose and followed Robin into the restroom. Kim turned to the nearest shift girl, Zuri Catwaba, and announced, “I’ll be in the lady’s room.” Kim walked toward the hall, the manager’s key in hand.
Robin entered the ladies’ room and didn’t hold the door for her Boss; she was way beyond such niceties. She turned and grabbed his python, pulled him in, and locked the door. She had an overpowering urge to kiss the man and wondered if such an action constituted cheating. She mashed her lips on his and reamed his mouth with her tongue as she jerked his mammoth willy through his pant leg. Richard’s wank toy ran down his leg like an oil pipeline, straight and long, and he felt it would rupture at any moment. Robin moaned into his mouth and implored, “Can you fuck me quick?” It was going to be a gusher!
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