MisterBigBucks
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2011
- Posts
- 122
Sex Toy
(OOC -- See the OOC comment at the very end, either now or later, for information about joining this RP.)
6 years ago:
She held the head set before her, turning it this way and that. "What does it do?"
He smiled broadly, continuing to strip his clothes off. "It makes sex better."
"Sex with you is already pretty good," she said, trying to portray sincerity in her tone.
"This makes it even better." He leaped onto the bed, snatching the head set from her, turning on the small power supply and adjusting the knobs. "It connects us ... in ways ... well, it's hard to explain."
She pulled her tee shirt off over her head, laying back on the bed. She waved her hands over her nude body like some game show hostess indicating a new car. "Is this hard to explain."
He ogled her for a long moment, listening to the power supply charge up. "No, baby ... you I understand all to well."
"Then why..." She gestured toward the head set. "Did you make that?"
"Oh, hell no," he answered, moving forward on his knees, pushing between her legs as she parted them for him. "My professor made this. He works with ... well, just about everyone, on ways to understand the working of the human mind. Sit up."
As she supported her upper body on her elbows, he leaned over her and placed the device atop her head. He ran his fingers through her hair, fitting the head set to her. "They're trying to find a way to get through to people in comas, or with traumatic head injuries ... people who can't communicate their ideas."
"But--" She grimaced as he tugged at her hair. "What's this got to do with sex?"
Finished, he sat back on his haunches and picked up a second device, a bit different in design, with a small antennae extending from one of the ear pieces. He fitted it upon his head in the same way, then adjusted both of the devices until he was happy with their fits. He looked into her eyes and, smirking, answered, "They found out that the wearer gets ... stimulated by the device."
A smile spread on her lips. "You mean it's ... it's like a sex toy ... a vibrator."
"Sort of," he answered, his smile enlarging. "Only better."
She laughed loudly, laying back and twisting her head against the pillow, looking to be comfortable. "What could be better than a vibrator? Except for you, of course, baby."
He slapped the side of her ass playfully, then began inching his way farther up in between her parted thighs. "It's better ... 'cause as it's stimulating you ... making you feel better--"
He reached to her pussy, playing his thumb against the already sopping wet, pink flesh; she drew a deep breath as he began pleasuring her, as he pushed the head of his penis against her opening, playing with her as he often did.
"--I can sense how you are feeling."
"I ... I don't under- understand," she managed between already labored breathing. "What do ... mean ... sense me?"
"I can feel," he explained, pushing against her, urging her open. "I can feel how you feel."
He drew a sudden, excited breath as he pushed forward, penetrating her fully in one long, slow insertion. After he hit bottom, leaning forward to place his hands at her sides to hold his weight, he waited for her to regain herself and look up at him.
"Oh ... baby," she groaned. "It's ... oh god, it's working ... it's working baby."
He began withdrawing and inserting himself, first just a bit and slowly, then more and faster. Her reaction was like nothing he'd ever seen before, and he could sense -- mentally and physically -- her pleasure, and her appreciation for what he was doing to her.
Her moans became groans, her groans cries, then screams. He had hold of her hips, his arms reaching under the backs of her thighs to lift her legs high; he was pounding hard, deep, fast ... pushing her toward an orgasm that would, as usual, be only the first of a handful before the night was over.
===My god, Robert! My god! You're so good ... fuck me, Robert, fuck me hard===
His eyes opened wide and his pounding against her ceased. "What...?"
She didn't seem to even realize he'd stopped fucking her, her screams of pleasure, her rocking of her hips continuing.
===Robert! My god, you're the best, baby! You'll always be the best! Fuck me, baby!===
"Who the fuck is Robert?" he asked. Then, looking at her closely, realizing her uncontrolled screaming meant that she wasn't talking to him, he asked no one in particular, "What the fuck is going on...?"
===I'm yours, Robert. Always yours. He doesn't mean anything to me. He's just my ticket to Grad School. Forgive me, baby. I'll always be yours!===
Ticket to Grad School? he repeated in his mind. Your fucking ticket to Grad School?
Suddenly, he realized she wasn't talking to him, but he was hearing her all the same. And he knew exactly what she was talking about, too. They'd started fucking a year ago, just days after he'd become the Department Head's Teaching Assistant. She'd promised him ecstasy -- in exchange for some help with an upcoming mid-term; and before he knew it, he was supplying her with full copies of tests in exchange for the most incredible sex he'd ever experienced. But, it was always one test, one night of fucking ... without fail.
===One more term, baby, and I'm all yours. No more faking for him, Robert. No, baby ... I never fake with you, baby.===
Oh, god, you're such an idiot. How did you not see this? As he looked down upon the woman, then looked to the head set and its rapidly flashing LED light indicating that the tiny battery was nearly drained, he asked himself a new question: Does the Prof' know his headset works this way...?
His mind was racing with questions ... and the questions led to possibilities. Future possibilities, he told himself. You should be thinking about the present right now.
He leaned over the Co-Ed and asked, "Robert who?"
===Oh, Robert ... you're the man for me, baby ... not him.===
"Robert who ... baby?"
The sex talk continued in her mind -- in his mind as well -- until finally he got what he was looking for.
===Robert Gregorson ... you're my man, baby.===
He smiled, broadly. Robert Gregorson ... yeah, I know who you are. I know who your wife is, too. And how rich you are. And how much less rich you will be when I tell your wife you're fucking a college girl.
He'd gotten what he wanted from the girl's mind. He reached up and stripped the head set from her, tossing it into the nearby recliner. He looked to her, finding her disoriented ... and disappointed. He'd heard from the Professor that being separated from the device caused the wearer to often fall into deep depression -- Like finding out your lover has been faking orgasms to pass tests! -- and he laughed heartily, knowing that the headset-enhanced orgasm that she had been so near to achieving had been ripped away from her.
He renewed his plunges into her, harder and deeper than he'd ever done before, until finally he exploded with a mighty, satisfied grunt. When he'd come down from atop Mount Euphoria enough to look her in the eyes, he could see she was still at a loss, still unsure of what had happened -- or hadn't happened -- to her over the past few minutes.
He decided to take advantage of the situation, take advantage of her, since she'd obviously been doing the same to him for so long. He flipped her to her belly, grabbed the gel, and squirted a massive amount into the crevice between her ass cheeks. He'd always wanted to do this, but she'd never allowed it, always telling him someday.
She was aware enough to realize what he was planning, but -- unable to control her body as normal -- couldn't do anything to stop him once he'd laid much of his weight down upon her.
As he pushed in between her ass cheeks, the lube allowing him to penetrate her despite her feeble attempts to restrain him, he whispered into her ear, "Next time you see Robert ... you tell him someday arrived ... baby."
Today:
"So, I just put this under the pillow," the woman was asking, turning the flat piece of plastic-enclosed circuitry this way and that, "And ... I'll learn what I want to know."
"It would be better if you could hide it under the fitted sheet. That way, if he gets ... rambunctious ... and the pillows end up on the floor, for example ... the device is still near enough his head to function properly."
She looked doubtful, still turning the see-through plastic sheet over and over, as if understanding what she was looking at to begin with. She picked up the small ear piece sitting before her, asking, "And this one is mine?"
"Yes. You put it in your ear, similar to a wireless phone receiver and ... you're set."
"And I will get the account numbers to the bank accounts using these?"
"No," he said quickly, standing and coming around his desk to sit in the chair beside her. "I cannot guarantee that you will get what you're looking for, Mrs. Bourne. You're after something very, very specific ... something ... well, to be honest, I've never had a client try to appropriate information that is as specific as this before, so I have to be honest and say that our chances of success are ... minimal."
"But there is a chance of success, yes?"
Her question was filled with desperation. Peter Thompson understood that desperation. The man she was targeting had stolen tens of millions from the most vulnerable of people, hiding the money away as untraceable bearer bonds in accounts that she could clean out if only she knew the account numbers.
"Yes, but..." He considered his explanation. He honestly did think she could pull this off, but it wouldn't be a one time interaction as the woman was hoping. She despised this man, her boss, a creep who had been ogling her for years and openly suggesting that she could get ahead in the company if only she would accompany him to a hotel for a weekend love fest. "... you have to ... carefully get him thinking about the money he took. You must be subtle ... but you must be specific. When you take him to bed, the last thought on his mind--" He let his eyes drop to the deep cleavage of her impressive breasts, then looked back up to her and smiled. "--except for how much he wants you, of course ... must be about the money and where it is. Do you understand?"
She nodded, then said, "Yes. I understand. The money ... and where it is."
"If you don't get what you're looking for the first time..." He hesitated, not wanting to tell her this but knowing he had to. "You may have to try again."
She clenched her jaws together at the thought.
"But, you will get closer the second time."
"And a third time, maybe," she said, her tone telling him she knew that was a possibility, too.
"Yes ... and if you need it, a third time. Remember, the battery is only good for six hours. After that ... well, it's just a wire filled piece of plastic. Bring it back, and if you need to, we'll recharge it and send it away with you."
She sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the piece of plastic but not really seeing it. He knew where her mind was; he was glad he wasn't there with it. Finally, she drew and exhaled a breath, set the pieces down, and proclaimed, "Let's do this. This needs to be done. I can do this. I can do this."
"Good news," he said, returning to the other side of the desk and sliding the contract toward her. "Just sign there, give me your credit card -- I'm assuming you can charge that much to it, of course -- and I'll walk you through the particulars again."
She looked to the cost line again. Twelve thousand dollars. It was a lot of money -- it was her money, as she was paying for this whole thing out of her own pocket -- but compared to the tens of millions her boss had stolen, this was pennies.
She signed the agreement, pushed it back to him, and smiled. Softly, with a questionable lack of confidence, she repeated, "I can do this."
(OOC -- If you are interested in joining this RP, please PM me with your plot idea. The above customer is available is someone wants to play out her challenge, too.)
