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Message-ID: <63335asstr$1427371801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "J'onn J'onzz" <mstrhole@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 6: A Matter of Ownership M/F, Techno Magic, Romance
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Date: Thu, 26 Mar 2015 08:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Please Post

I've been on vacation and off the grid, so to speak.  I will now resume
posting the Chronicles of David Donaldson.

These stories were originally written as a sort of exercise -- an attempt
to create a series of free standing short stories based on a main character
and in a set universe. This story doesn't really go with the rest of the
series -- I was just trying something out.

Enjoy.

Feedback welcome.  Flames ignored.

*...all ideologies are totalitarian. *--* Raoul Vaneigem*
<1st attachment, "David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 6.txt" begin>

David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 6: A Matter of Ownership M/F, Techno
Magic, Romance

   I was sitting at the receptionist's desk with my feet propped up one hot
July afternoon, sifting through applications for executive assistants. 
Heather, my previous assistant, had run off with Juliette, a high level
bureaucrat in a company for which I'd recently finished a major consulting
project.  The happy couple sent me a post card from somewhere in the Grand
Caymans.  Apparently they'd gone there as a honeymoon.  "Well, that's what
happens when you meddle," I thought as I tossed another file folder on the
reject pile.  I'd used MasterPC to give Juliette an inclination to find my
sexy assistant attractive - it helped us secure a large check and an
ongoing retainer.  Why should I have been surprised when Juliette fell for
Heather?  I was more surprised when Heather fell for Juliette.  Et tu
Heather?

   The sun was high and hot the way only a mid-July sun can be.  It was
about 80 degrees - the kind of mid-summer day that chambers of commerce
pray for; the kind of day that makes tourists remember why they spent their
hard earned money to drive up the Interstate from Chicago, Minneapolis, or
Moline.  They think about how lucky they are as they soak their feet in the
cool waters of the greatest of the Great Lakes or tee a Titleist(TM) up for
the first of 18 at Apostle Highlands.  For my money, there's no better
place to be on earth in the summer time than on or next to the shining big
sea waters of Lake Superior.

   The soft hum of the air conditioning was not enough to mask the click of
high heels on the marble floor outside my offices -- the world headquarters
of A2Z Consulting.  I'm David Donaldson the President, Chairman of the
Board, and CEO of this company.  I'm also its only employee at the moment.
My offices, a two room suite, are in an old building downtown that was
originally built by the Great Northern Railroad back in the 1890's.  It's
not the most luxurious space, but it suits me.

   The footsteps stopped in front of my door.  I could see the outline of a
human figure through the frosted glass.  Whoever it was couldn't decide
whether or not to come in.  Well, I was in no hurry for them to make a
decision.  I picked up another application and began reading, mentally
correcting the grammar and spelling as I went.

   The door opened.  A woman appeared.  She pointed a pair of 38's at me.
She also had a gun.  I neither moved nor spoke.  In any transaction the one
who speaks first loses.  That's the first law of sales - well, no, I tell a
lie - the first law of sales is "always let the customer say no." So, "the
one who speaks first loses" must be the second law.

   I set the file I was holding on the desk with the others.  I said
nothing.  The woman was tall and, to say the least, statuesque -- I smiled,
thinking of Jessica Rabbit.  Perhaps I could make this woman laugh.

   She had long red hair the color of copper wire that framed a face made
up of perfectly proportionate features - each one exactly where it should
be and the right size to compliment the others.  Her skin tone was luminous
like the best ancient Chinese porcelain.  Her eyes were green, and her gaze
was penetrating.  She was a work of art in a light green suit with an
antique white blouse.  Her skirt was just short enough to reveal a set of
legs that screamed professional dancer.  They were expensively encased in
silk.  From where I sat, I couldn't see her shoes, but I guessed they were
expensive too.  Her perfume wandered over and introduced itself.  It was
Shalimar by Geurlain.  Everything about her demanded I respond to her as a
male, and boy was I responding.

   "David Donaldson I presume?"

   "Madam, you have the advantage of me."

   "Yes, and I also have a gun."

   "Unless you're going to shoot me with it, would you mind pointing it
somewhere else?"

   "I like where it's pointed just fine."

   "All right, we'll come back to that.  How about telling me your name and
why you're here?"

   "You don't need to know my name.  As to why I'm here...  You have
something that belongs to me - a book."

   "A book that belongs to you?"

   "Are you deaf?  That's what I said.  You have a book that belongs to me
and I want it back."

   "I have many books.  You'll have to be more specific."

   "It's a book by Rafael Sabatini."

   A leap of intuition gave me the answers to a pair of questions.  I knew
why she was here.  I also knew why she looked so good.

   "The Kings Minion," I said.

   "Yes.  That's it.  I want it back."

   "I no longer have it.  It was definitely not one of Sabatini's best.  It
reminded me of some of the things Stephen King has had to write to satisfy
his publishers from time to time.  I tried giving it to the public library
and even they didn't want it.  So I put it out at a neighbor's garage sale.
It's long gone."

   I watched her carefully, particularly her trigger finger.  I thought I
might have to test one of my most recent MasterPC upgrades.  I had decided
it would be cool to have super speed like The Flash, one of my favorite
comic book characters from back in the day.  Sounds good you say?  Well,
you try running faster than Mach III and see what happens to your clothing.

   "May I sit down?"

   "By all means, please do," I said, indicating the client chair across
the desk from me.  I turned and moved my feet to the floor and placed both
hands where she could see them on the desk.  I didn't want any
misunderstandings.  The rod never wavered as she sat down.  I was sorry
that the desk was in the way.  I would have liked a better look at those
legs.

   "I suppose one of the first things you gave yourself was a big cock,"
she announced.

   I was embarrassed to say that she was right.  But I managed not to show
it.

   "And the first thing you gave yourself was a set of giant knockers," I
replied, evenly, my attention still on the gun (a pity since it should have
been on those magnificent tits).

   If she was embarrassed she also did not show it.  She looked at me for a
few moments more and then a smile crept up from the corners of her perfect
lips.

   "Well, you'd be wrong.  It was the second thing."

   "So it's safe to say that you're not really here about a book," I said.

   "That's right, I'm not.  I'm here about what was inside that book; a
CDROM with some very special software on it.  I want that disc back."

   "Well, you might have just asked.  You didn't need the heater."

   "Where is it?"

   "Didn't you make any backup copies?"

   "No, I didn't.  The one in the book is the only one that I know of that
still exists.  Copies are not safe."

   "So, it wasn't safe to make a backup copy, but it was safe to put your
only copy in the back of a book by an obscure early 20th century author of
melodramatic adventure novels?"

   "It's complicated."

   "I'll bet."

   "So, what else did you give yourself besides a big dick?"

   "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I said, smiling.

   "We can discuss that later.  I'd be willing to place a small wager that
when you found the disc you were a fat, balding, middle aged, middle
manager whose career was at a dead end.  "

   "Guilty on all counts, except the career thing.  I actually had a pretty
good job and was up for a rather significant promotion.  Otherwise, spot
on. Full marks.  What's your point?"

   "My point is this.  You didn't deserve the things that you acquired
after you found that disc.  You created a new reality; a stolen reality."

   "And you didn't?"

   "I'm not here to talk about what I did."

   "OK, so you want the disc back.  Then what?"

   "You'll never hear from me again."

   "Oh I think you'll have to do better than that.  If I give you that
disc, what's to keep you from using it to restore what you think of as
reality?  I'm not ready to go back to the way things were before I found
it. No, I don't think I'll give you the disc.  If you were too stupid to
make a copy that's your problem, not mine, honey.  Now unless you have a
rational proposal to put in front of me, or you want to hire my company for
a job, I'll have to ask you to leave.  I'm busy."

   "Do I look stupid?"

   "No, you look like Janet Mason without all the plastic surgery."

   She actually blushed.  "Do you really think so?  That was the look I was
going for.  My late husband was a big fan of hers."

   "You succeeded in spades."

   She frowned.  "You're just trying to distract me.  I'm not afraid to use
this gun.  Now give me my property back."

   "Oh, I doubt very much if it was your property to begin with.  Where did
you find it?"

   "It's mine.  It was a birthday present."

   I burst out laughing.  This was just too much.

   "Next I suppose you'll start referring to it as your `precious' or
something.  Good grief.  Instead of giving yourself a nice set of tits you
might have given yourself some brains."

   "I've got plenty of brains.  Or at least I did have.  How long has it
been since you found the disc and started using the program?"

   "About a year and a half."

   "Eighteen months.  Yes, that's about right.  Well, I have news for you.
The changes aren't permanent.  At least they weren't with me.  When I found
the disc, the first thing I did was give myself a major intelligence
boost."

   "Ditto.  Well, not the first thing, actually," I said.

   "Men.  You're all alike," she said sarcastically.

   "Don't assume too much," I interrupted.

   "As I was saying, I gave myself a major boost in intelligence.  Then I
went to work building a better physical self."

   "You did a nice job."

   "Thank you.  So did you.  Things were going along nicely and I was being
very careful not to overuse the program.  My husband was delighted with the
makeover.  I used the software judiciously to help him grow his company. 
This was several years ago.  He died suddenly, in a plane crash."

   "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. ...?"

   "Who I am is not important.  You need to understand what I'm saying. 
After a while you start to lose the artificially acquired intelligence. 
What I've discovered is that while the physical changes you make, like your
metabolism, muscles, etc., are more or less permanent, the mental changes
you make actually wear off over time unless they're renewed.  You haven't
started seeing that yet, but you will, in about six months.

   "So how did you lose the disc?"

   "I thought I was being clever by hiding it in a book no one would ever
read.  I'm afraid I wasn't paying very close attention when my housekeeper
suggested I clear out some of the old books in my late husband's study. 
Without thinking, I let her take them all to a used book store - one that
you, apparently, frequent.  Or you used to."

   "I haven't been there since I bought the Sabatini.  Hard to believe the
same author wrote `Scaramouche.'"

   "I need that disc in order to restore my intelligence."

   "Is that all?  Well, why didn't you say so?  I can do that for you right
now.  If you'll just tell me your name, I'll make all your problems go
away."

   She laughed.  It was not a reassuring sound from someone holding a gun.

   "I haven't lost that much intelligence.  Once I give you my name you'll
be able to do anything you want to me and to my reality.  No, I don't think
I'll give you my name."

   "We have an impasse then.  If you shoot me you'll never find the disc.
Unless you tell me your name I won't even consider helping you."

   "If I shoot you, you'll be dead."

   "Is it so easy to kill then?"

   "I'm desperate.  You have no idea what I'm capable of."

   She leveled the gun at me.  I decided it was time to end this.  I leaned
back in my chair and stretched; seemingly bored with her and the
conversation.  Then, I engaged my super speed and in a flash, no pun
intended, I was sitting on the edge of the desk facing my mystery guest. 
This time, I had the gun.  I had also singed the lapels of one of my
favorite suits ...  again.  Damn.

   "What?  How?"

   "I've been testing the limits of what MasterPC can do in terms of
self-improvement.  I can move faster than any human being can think.  I can
do a lot of things mere mortals are unable to do."

   She was crestfallen.  A tear appeared at the corner of one eye and ran
down the perfect skin of that perfect face following the line of her
perfect nose, and dripping onto her perfect and oh-so-kissable lips.  I
wanted to take her in my arms right there and ...  well I couldn't decide
between comforting and ravishing her.

   "Now what happens?  Are you going to call the police?"

   "Why on earth would I do that?  What happens next is up to you.  It
always was.  I've been very careful about using MasterPC.  I don't want to
get into trouble and I don't want to start any chains of events that I
can't control.  I've already made one mistake and that cost me my
assistant."

   "Did she die?"

   "No, she ran off with another woman - a client.  It's a long story.  I'd
be happy to tell you all about it over lunch if you'll just tell me your
name."

   She sat there, pretty as a picture, desirable as Venus.  I wanted to
help her, but could she overcome her paranoia enough to let me?  Let's be
honest, I also wanted to fuck her brains out - after I'd augmented them, of
course.  Intelligence is a big turn on for me in a woman - even more
important than looks.  She said nothing.  I had the gun and the power.  I
decided to speak first, violating one of my rules.

   "I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do.  I can help you
get back your brain power and maybe we can work together to figure out why
it has to be renewed when other changes are permanent, or permanent so far
as we know.  Let's talk about it over lunch.  I know a little French place
about four blocks from here that offers a magnificent view of about
34-million wasted tax dollars and has a great kitchen.  I'll even buy. 
And, after that, we'll go get the CDROM and I'll make a copy for you. 
That's fair, isn't it?"

   She took a tissue from the box on my desk and dabbed at her eyes.

   "I guess you leave me no choice."

   "Good.  Let me get my coat."

   Before I went to the closet for my suit jacket, I took the precaution of
removing the clip from the automatic and putting it in a locked file
cabinet along with the gun.  I suppose you're thinking "what if she had a
backup piece in her purse?" No, scratch that, you're really thinking "damn
I wish he'd get to the sex part of this story!" I wasn't worried about
guns. I can outrun bullets, remember?  So I locked up the heater, grabbed
my suit coat and escorted my mystery woman out of the office.

   In spite of being the noon hour, we got a good table at Le Bistro.  I
really like their turkey sandwich.  That and a salad make a nice lunch for
about 8 bucks.  The atmosphere is nice and the service is pretty good most
days.  White linens on the tables with fresh flowers.  It's impressive.

   "This is nice," she said.

   "Yes, I like it."

   The waitress came and took our orders.  I had the turkey sandwich with a
garden salad, as usual.  My lunch date, who I'd come to think of as Jessica
Rabbit for lack of a proper name, ordered the chicken salad sandwich.

   "Look, I'm sorry about the gun.  But I didn't know anything about you
except that you'd bought that book.  You might have been some sort of
monster or something."

   "Yes, I can see where you might worry about that.  Well, am I a monster
do you think?"

   "No, I don't think so.  You've been more than fair."

   "And don't forget, I'm picking up the tab.  How about if you tell me
your name so we don't have to be strangers sharing a table?"

   "Kathleen.  Kathleen O'Brien."

   I extended my hand across the table.  She took it.

   "Pleased to meet you, Kathleen.  I'm David.  David Donaldson."

   "Donaldson?  Like the author?"

   "Yes, like the author.  Do you read his stuff?  I don't generally meet
too many people who are familiar with him."

   "Mordent's Need is one of my favorites," she said, a faraway look in her
eyes.

   "Are you waiting for a powerful man to come through a mirror and save
you from an otherwise pointless existence then?"

   "A girl can dream, can't she?"

   "I won't argue with that.  Tell me more about yourself.  How did you
find the disc?  What did you learn about its uses and limitations?  Perhaps
we could pool our knowledge and help each other."

   "A friend from Colorado sent it to me.  She said she had to get rid of
it because her husband found out what it did, got really pissed, and tossed
her computer into their pool.  She warned me not to use it except in a dire
emergency, and she told me not to lose it.  She didn't say where she'd
gotten it, just that a friend had sent it.  She got herself into some
trouble over it, I guess, and handed the problem off to me."

   "Interesting.  So what did you do when you got it?"

   "I was curious, naturally - who wouldn't be?  And when I put it into my
computer and saw the first screen...when I heard the words...well, I'd read
those old stories by JR Parz back in the 90's.  Of course I didn't believe
them, but there was the disc spinning away in my computer."

   "So you tried it out on yourself first."

   "Yes.  That was logical, I thought."

   "You wanted to do something that would be immediately noticeable and you
were the closest subject to try it on.  I felt the same."

   "So did you really give yourself bigger equipment as your first test?"

   "No, actually, I did something for a colleague - helped her quit
smoking. I also reversed the damage that smoking had already caused in her
cardio-pulmonary system.  But I also wanted to try something that I would
immediately notice just to see if it worked.  That's when I did a little
self-improvement."

   "Interesting that you thought of doing something for someone else first.
Very noble."

   "Well don't nominate me for sainthood just yet," I said, smiling.

   "I had trouble resisting the urge to use it for all sorts of things at
first" Kathleen said.  "I live in the State Capitol and it was difficult
not to just `fix' the idiots who run things."

   "I know what you mean.  There've been times when I thought about turning
the local City Council into gerbils and the Mayor into a boa constrictor."

   "What else did you do?"

   "Nothing too major.  I made sure my wife and children would never be
sick again, took care of some other nagging health issues in the family,
little things like that.  And, I used it to make some major upgrades in my
own physiology."

   "Yes, I did much the same thing.  Still, it was tempting to use it all
the time."

   "Roger that.  I installed the program on a laptop computer and then I
put the disc in a secure place.  Say, that reminds me; didn't you have the
software installed on a computer?"

   "Yes, I did, and then the computer's hard drive crashed completely -
totally fried - and I wasn't able to recover the program.  That's when I
discovered my mistake with the book, and I also realized that the mental
effects of MasterPC had started to wear off."

   The conversation continued after our food came.  I told her all about
Heather and what had happened out at Acme with Juliette.  After lunch we
went back to my office.  I fired up my computer, put Kathleen's name in,
and jacked up her IQ.  She was pretty happy.  I gave her back the gun, but
not the bullets.  She understood.  I also gave her my backup copy of the
CDROM disc.

   "You had this in your office all the time?"

   "Sure.  The original is in a safe place.  This is my back up copy.  I
have three others stashed in various safe locations.  And, of course, the
program resides on my hard drive."

   "You're thorough."

   "Yes, and I've developed an iPhone application of the MasterPC software.
It's great to be able to run the program without a computer."

   "That's dangerous don't you think?"

   "Not really.  I have a lot of safeguards on my phone that would prevent
anyone else from using it - just like my regular computer.  If the program
is activated without my password, it erases itself completely."

   "Hmmm...that's a good idea."

   "Will you be heading back south now?"

   "I have a hotel room for the night.  I'll go back in the morning."

   "Do you need a ride back to the hotel?"

   "Are you trying to seduce me?"

   "I won't deny the thought has crossed my mind.  What are my chances?"

   "You intrigue me, and you helped me.  That should at least get you a
chance to show me what else you can do."

   "And, remember the second thing I did with the software."

   "Yes, I remember, and you did say you'd show me yours if I showed you
mine."

   "What hotel are you using?"

   "Barkers Island Inn."

   "Let's go then," I said.

   "We'd be fools not to," Kathleen replied.

   I ushered her to the door and followed her out.  I watched her ass as
she sashayed down the corridor.  Damn, that was one fine looking woman. 
One way or the other, I wanted to make sure I got a sample of that before
the night was through.  And though it was tempting to go back into the
computer to make sure, I resisted.  I wanted this to happen because she
wanted it as much as I did, and I was pretty sure she did.

   I opened her door and helped her into the big Cadillac.  I went around
and got in the driver's side and fired up the Northstar V-8.  The AC was
running full blast as I wheeled the De Ville into the traffic on Belknap
Street.  It was a quiet ride.  Neither of us said a word.

   She said nothing as I parked in the hotel lot, got out, and opened her
door.  I offered my hand and she took it.  I held onto it all the way to
the hotel lobby.  She didn't let go.  We walked to the elevator.  She
pressed the button for her floor - I wasn't paying much attention.  When
the doors closed behind us, she turned to me and I put my arms around her.
We kissed.  I had wanted a taste of those lips since I first laid eyes on
her.  I was not disappointed.  Our breathing was heavy by the time the door
opened.  Somehow, without my noticing, she'd managed to retrieve her room
key from her purse so no time was lost in fumbling at the door.

   Inside the room with the door shut things accelerated.  Our bodies
ground together and I know she was feeling my manhood's bulge pressing into
her belly.  Her tits were squashed against my chest and I couldn't wait to
get at them.  But I did wait - self-denial can be a form of pleasure.

   "Let's get naked," she whispered in my ear as our kiss broke.

   I would have been happy to make out fully clothed for a while - I really
like that aspect of sex - but I also wanted to see what was under that
suit. And, to tell the truth, I wanted to know if she was a natural
redhead.

   I stepped back and began stripping.  By the time I'd taken off my
jacket, Kathleen had tossed her jacket over a chair and quickly divested
herself of her skirt and blouse, leaving her clad in only a bra, silk
stockings, and a garter belt.  She was, indeed, a natural redhead as
evidenced by the thick red bush covering her pubic mound.  She reached
behind her back and unfastened her bra.  When it dropped to the floor in
front of her I was staring opened mouthed at the most magnificent set of
mammaries I'd ever seen.  They were absolute perfection.  Large and round
with no sag and none of the telltale signs of surgery.  The nipples were
long with significant areolae - everything in perfect proportion.  She
smiled.

   "You like?"

   I was speechless.  My fingers had rebelled against my brain and were not
cooperating in my efforts to get my tie untied or my shirt unbuttoned.  I
just stood there staring stupidly at the vision standing before me.  I am
not a man accustomed to being speechless.  Anyone who knows me would agree.
But there I was, as tongue tied as a 9th grader looking at his first copy
of Playboy.

   "I'll take that as a yes," she said, chuckling throatily.

   Kathleen stepped to me and began to help me get the buttons of my shirt
undone while I took on the seemingly simpler task of undoing my belt and
the fastening at the waistband of my slacks.  I kicked off my shoes and my
pants were soon a puddle of fabric at my feet.  My dress shirt soon joined
them and shortly after that my undershirt.  All I wore now were the boxer's
I'd put on after my shower.  There was a huge tent in the front - evidence
of my appreciation of Kathleen's lovely form.  She stepped back as I
stepped out of my underwear and we took turns staring at each other's
nakedness.

   "Nice job," we both said at once.  She giggled and I chuckled (men don't
giggle).

   And then she was in my arms and we forgot about speech for a while.  Her
lips were soft and pliable, her mouth tasted sweet to my tongue.  Our arms
were wrapped around each other and our hands were busy exploring everything
they could reach.  I got mine between us and began measuring her mammaries
with my hands, filling them with the lovely sensitive flesh.  Kathleen
groaned with pleasure as I mauled her tits.  I found her nipples and began
twisting and pulling them.

   "Yesssss...pull them harder you bastard," she hissed breaking our kiss.
Her eyes were closed and a look of pure bliss took over her face.  I
continued to tug and pull on her nipples, pinching and twisting them,
enjoying the expressions of pain and pleasure that streaked across her face
and the gasps and squeals forced from her lips.

   Kathleen had gripped my prodigious endowment in both hands and was
stroking it expertly.  She was no stranger to cock play - a relief since
I'd found few women who knew how I liked my dick stroked (or men for that
matter).  I claimed her mouth again and urged her toward the nearby bed.  I
wanted access to all of her and that wasn't possible standing up.  Besides,
I wasn't at all sure that either of us could stand for much longer.

   "Bed," I whispered, my voice sounding harsh with desire.

   As soon as I had her on the bed, I immediately began to kiss my way down
from her lips, over her chin, pausing for a moment to taste the flesh at
her neck, and then I was devouring the most perfect set of breasts I'd ever
seen.  They had settled slightly onto her chest, but still jutted proudly
toward the ceiling.  These were the real deal - not silicone - and they
were pliant and responsive to my caresses and kisses.  I consumed them like
a starving man at a banquet, covering each towering cone with kisses while
my hands continued to maul and squeeze them.

   "My nipples," Kathleen gasped.  "Suck them."

   I complied immediately, taking first one and then the other rubbery
knobs into my mouth along with all of the surrounding flesh I could manage.
I sucked hard, which brought groans of pleasure from deep in Kathleen's
throat.

   "Harder.  Suck harder," she pleaded.

   I was pleased to do as she wished, and attacked her nipples with tongue
and lips and, occasionally, gentle nips with my incisors.  She loved all of
it.  She really loved it when I just covered her nipples with my mouth and
sucked as hard as I could.  This seemed to drive her wild.

   The first thing I generally notice about a woman's body is her legs. 
The second thing is her ass.  I am not, generally, a breast man.  In
Kathleen's case, however, I was prepared to make an exception.  As perfect
as her legs and ass were (she'd really done a great job with the software
there) her breasts were works of art - definitely museum quality.  I could
not get enough of them and Kathleen was enjoying the attention.  Her hands
were between her legs frigging her pussy to a fragrant froth, and the fumes
wafting up to where my face was experiencing paradise in her tit-flesh were
driving me almost to the point of load blowing lust.

   When I finally managed to pull away from those massive mounds of
delight, I began kissing my way down to where Kathleen's fingers were
stirring her honey-pot so furiously.  I kissed my way across her flat and
well defined abs, pausing to tickle her navel with my tongue, and as I
approached my goal, she obligingly removed her hands giving me full access
to the treasure beneath the fluffy red fur at the apex of her thighs.  I
had never wanted anything so much as I did a taste of her nectar at this
moment.  In spite of the fact that my brain was not receiving its
accustomed volume of blood/oxygen, part of my mind managed to wonder If
Kathleen had programmed her juices to have this effect on others.

   My lips were nibbling and nuzzling her lower belly.  I could feel her
bush against my left cheek.  Her scent, overpowering at this distance,
filled my nostrils.  I forced myself to approach the target obliquely.  I
kissed the top of her bush.  Then I kissed around it and began kissing and
licking my way down her thighs, lifting her left leg and nuzzling the
sensitive flesh behind the knee, then kissing my way back up toward her
molten center.  I repeated this on her right thigh as well.  Kathleen was
squirming on the bed, her hips constantly in motion, her hands mauling her
tits - I could tell that I had treated them too gently as watched her take
both nipples and stretch them far beyond anything I could imagine ever
doing to a woman.

   Her moans were constant.  Our breathing was heavy and the sound of it
filled the room as did the scent of our mutual musks.  We were a pair of
animals in heat.  I saw beads of sweat on Kathleen's abdomen and on the
undersides of her tits.  I knew that my own bare flesh bore its sheen of
perspiration.  My cock, an iron bar jutting from between my legs, was
dripping pre-cum and jerking to the rhythm of my pounding heart.

   I maneuvered my body so that I was lying prone between Kathleen's legs
looking up past her steaming grotto over her belly and between her
magnificent breasts to her face - contorted with passion and lust and the
need for more of both.  My olfactory receptors were being assaulted by her
scent their defenses overwhelmed.  She was all I could think of, her
satisfaction my whole universe.  I was compelled to drink from her
fountain.

   The time for subtlety and teasing was long past.  I pushed my head
forward to the apex of her alabaster thighs and covered her deliciously
tumescent jade gate with my mouth.  My tongue was a darting snake exploring
every fold and crenelated surface of her inner labia so swollen now with
blood that they were a bright, hot, pink shading toward deep mauve - almost
fuchsia.  The taste of her on my tongue was like the finest wine I'd ever
sampled; like ambrosia; like the nectar of the gods.  I was instantly and
irrevocably addicted to this taste.  I knew in every fiber of my being that
if I did not imbibe regularly at this font I would surely die.

   And so I ate and drank and devoured her liquid center; the marvelous
mystery that is womanhood.  Up and down her slit my tongue slithered until
finally fixing on a target, its tip began to stroke the bundle of nerves
and gristle at the top of that slit.  If I had entered the temple when I
tasted her nectar for the first time I knew now the meaning of worship for
when I began licking Kathleen's clitoris she erupted into a series of the
most powerful orgasms I've ever seen a woman experience.

   Her hands, which had been squeezing the pinching her tit flesh clamped
on my head, holding it in the exact spot to afford her maximum pleasure. 
Her hips rose off the bed; her legs stiff; her toes curled; her breathing
stilled for the moment as her diaphragm experienced a rictus akin to death;
until with an explosion of breath she screamed a song of lust and pleasure
in a long lusty wail of incoherent syllables.

   She bucked like a wild horse trying to throw a rider.  She nearly threw
me, but I was ready for her and had placed my hands firmly on her ass
cheeks holding her pussy in the path of my mouth and continuing to suck and
lick for all I was worth.  She bounced up and down thrusting her cunt into
my face beating me with her pubic bone until I was sure that my upper lip
would be swelling later on.  She was too far gone down the long tunnel of
her orgasmic journey to care about anything so esoteric as the condition of
my upper lip.  And still I sucked and still I licked and still I tasted her
essence.

   Her hands that had been clamped to the side of my head holding me
against her now began to push me away.  But she had no strength.  I had
drained her.  Kathleen's body was limp on the bed, her breathing labored
coming in sobs as she fought to retain consciousness in the aftermath of
intense pleasure.  We had achieved a connection that had surprised us both.

   I gently kissed those dewy lips once more and once again before kissing
my way back across the sweaty flesh of her belly and breasts; up her neck
until I could capture her lips once more in a lover's kiss.  Her arms came
around me and we lay quietly together, kissing and feeling our flesh
touching in interesting ways.

   "My god..." she breathed at last, her first coherent words in some
minutes.  "My god," she repeated; longer sentences seemingly beyond her
grasp at the moment.  I lifted myself onto an elbow and smiled down at her.

   "I take it you enjoyed that," I said, smiling like the little boy who's
just learned a new trick.  When it comes to sex, all men are little boys at
heart and the women who understand this know all they need to know about
being in charge.

   "Bastard...I thought you'd killed me."

   "The French call it le petit mort - the little death.  Apt I think.  The
Chinese refer to orgasm as `the clouds and the rain."

   Kathleen pushed me onto my back and rolled half way on top of me.

   "I'll give you clouds and rain, Mr.  Donaldson.  And then we'll see
who's got the strength for smart remarks."

   "If that's a challenge," I said, "I accept."

   Kathleen smiled and then swooped down on my fuck stick like a raptor on
a field mouse.  She gripped the base of my cock with both hands and
captured the head with her mouth.  Oh she had a talented tongue did
Kathleen O'Brien.  Not to mention a talented set of lips and a seemingly
endless capability for cock swallowing - more MasterPC enhancements I
thought before the lack of blood flow impeded my thinking for a while.

   To say that Kathleen sucked my cock would be like calling the Mona Lisa
a decent painting.  Heather had been good - not at the start but she'd
learned - but she was nothing compared to Kathleen in the cock sucking
department.

   Within four strokes in and out of her mouth she had swallowed my massive
fuck missile to the root, her lovely lips nibbling the bare (shaved) flesh
at the base.  Her fingers manipulated my balls while with her other hand
she stroked the spit slick flesh her mouth released on each stroke.  It was
like nothing I'd ever felt before.  She was one hundred per cent committed
to blowing my cock and my mind.  It was the most aggressive blow job I'd
ever experienced and it reminded me of the way porn star Debbie Diamond
attacked cocks during her prime.  Kathleen was hungry and my steaming
sausage was her meat and drink.

   I used every bit of my MasterPC enhanced control to stave off an orgasm
within the first two minutes of Kathleen's oral assault.  Two minutes after
that the game was over.  Kathleen managed to worm a spit slick finger into
my asshole where she probed until my prostate was under her fingertip.  My
cock was all the way down her gullet and her throat muscles were massaging
what her lips didn't have possession of and that finger on my prostate was
the final push that sent me over the edge.

   "SHIT!" was all I got out before my nuts emptied themselves in salvo
after salvo of hot man juice.  Kathleen swallowed every last drop and kept
on sucking.  For a moment I thought she'd found a way to avoid needing
oxygen.  Her finger on my prostate was like her own private button
connected directly to the part of my brain that gave instructions for
ejaculation.  Every time she pressed more jizz flowed from the end of my
cock.  My pleasure threatened to become pain just from intensity alone. 
She sensed this, however, and soon her head came up, sucked the last drop
of my cum from a now softened cock, and then she kissed me full on the
mouth, sharing the last of my semen with me.  I was drained as no one had
drained me since I'd discovered the magic that was MasterPC.

   "I take it you enjoyed that," she said, mocking me.

   I stopped her talking with a kiss.  Then I rolled her over onto her back
and kissed her again.  My cock rallied; thanks to great software my
hardware was once more ready to do its part in the everlasting struggle
between yin and yang.

   "Enough talking...it's time to fuck," I said.

   "You can't be hard already," Kathleen gasped, feeling the untruth of her
words pressing into her belly.

   "Cock those legs up lady, because round one may have been a draw, but
we'll see about round two."

   She said nothing, but grabbed the backs of her knees and pulled them up,
apart, and back, exposing her pussy and inviting the coming invasion of my
manhood into her womanly center.

   "Bring it on," she said, smiling, confident.

   It struck me that both of us had enhanced our sexual capabilities using
the MasterPC program.  This was going to be an epic battle.  Ali-Frasier
would have nothing on this one.  Rumble in the Jungle?  Pee-wee league
stuff.

   I gripped my cock and aimed it at the opening between the petals of her
feminine flower.  I nuzzled that flower with the head of my instrument,
covering it with her lubricant and my saliva.  Then, slowly, relentlessly,
I pushed forward shoving aside the flesh guarding her inner citadel;
impaling her on my staff of love.

   For her part, she welcomed the invasion like Ankh-Morpork welcoming the
barbarian hordes with open arms sure in her ability to subdue the most
violent of warriors and turn them into hung over warriors with empty
purses.

   Her hands found my ass and she pulled my hips forward taking me to the
hilt.  Her legs wrapped around my waist, holding me there, her internal
muscles milking my dick shaft powerfully and seemingly tirelessly,
challenging me to absorb the kind of pleasure she was capable of providing.
But two can play at that game, and I withdrew against the suction of her
grasping, clasping, cunt muscles, until only the tip of my cock was still
nestled within her dark folds.

   There was nothing gentle in the way that I forced myself back inside
Kathleen's pussy.  Neither of us was prepared to give or accept quarter in
this bit of inter-gender warfare.  Both of us wore grimaces of
concentration and extreme pleasure as we did battle.  I began to thrash her
pussy with my cudgel of love.  Faster and harder I thrust and she thrust
back at me just as hard.  Our eyes were locked.  I drove the breath from
her belly with every stroke making her grunt.  My own grunts of exertion
joined hers in an interesting counterpoint that has no recognizable words.
The fugue we were constructing is as old as the human race and as familiar
as air.

   Our bellies slapped together.  Her tits bounced and jiggled as I rocked
her again and again.  Neither of us was prepared to yield an inch as we
fucked.  And that's what it was: fucking.  This wasn't lovemaking.  There
was no romance here.  We were two animals rutting; each fighting for the
survival of the race; each responding to the other's musk and our own
natural inclinations.

   And, yet, behind all of this, there was pleasure.  She felt it every
time I speared her at the deepest point; she felt it when my pubic bone
rubbed her clit; she felt it in the friction of every stroke.  I felt it in
the rippling inner musculature and it's dance against my hardened flesh; I
felt it in the look in her eyes and the way her nipples were like little
spikes at the ends of those perfect tits; I felt it in the way she pressed
against me on the end of every deep stroke seeking that last millimeter of
contact between cock and cunt.  We were enjoying this as much as two people
can enjoy anything.  In that moment I thought I could fall in love with
this woman, and that thought was like a bucket of cold water.  Only a
supreme act of will, augmented by programming, prevented me from losing my
erection at that point.

   "What's wrong?"

   She had sensed it too.  I lost the rhythm for a moment - just enough to
break the connection between us for that fraction of a second that means
everything.

   "What's wrong?"

   "I don't know.  Wait...that's a lie."

   I pulled my cock from her and lay down next to her on the bed.  She
moved to cover me with her body, to recapture my cock and feel it inside
again.  I stopped her.  She looked down at me with a look of complete and
utter confusion.

   "Talk to me, David."

   "Do you know how perfect you are?"

   "What?"

   "Everything about you is like a walking wet dream for me.  It's as if I
had set out to design a woman who met every requirement I could think of in
terms of intelligence and sexuality - that woman would be exactly like you.
You are the other half of me.  You are the perfect match - the yin to my
yang.  And I think I'm in love with you."

   This had stopped being a game some time ago.  This was real.  This was
serious.  My sexual playtimes had been just that - playtimes.  I wasn't in
love with Heather nor would I ever be.  I wasn't in love with any of the
others who had shared my bed, tasted my cock, felt me penetrate them.  They
were playmates and sex was a game.  Everything had changed in that one
moment of clarity.  Where my brain got the oxygen required for that level
of thought I would never understand and in that moment I wished that my
balls had captured those stray molecules of 02.  We could have finished our
fuck, taken showers, kissed, and said our goodbyes.  We could have walked
away satisfied; a little sore; a little wiser; and with a smile.

   "Oh, David," she said, stroking my face with the, yes, perfect fingers
of her perfect left hand.  "Why did you have to say that?"

   "Because it was what happened.  I haven't lied to you since we met;
granted that was just hours ago; but I've been honest about who I was and
what I was doing.  I don't want to start now.  And when the thought struck
me that you were the perfect woman for me I knew that I was falling in love
and that it would ruin everything."

   "It doesn't ruin anything.  David, look at me," she said, turning my
head so that our eyes met again.  "Listen to me, David, and listen well.  I
fell in love with you the moment I saw you this afternoon.  When I walked
into your office and saw you.  When you saw the gun and didn't flinch. 
When you met my challenge and threw it back at me.  When you cared enough
to do what I asked not knowing for certain that I would play fair with you.
I knew that I loved you.  You are the first man I've had sex with since my
husband died.  Many men have tried to get into my bed and they have all
failed.  Now I know why.  They weren't you."

   Tears were in the corners of those beautiful eyes.  I pulled her face to
mine and kissed her.  Knowing that she returned my love made things worse
in a way because there were no happy endings for this story that I could
see.  I kept those thoughts from my face and kept on kissing Kathleen the
woman I now knew as my one true love.

   And then, I felt her warm soft hands stroking my limp member.  She
looked at me and smiled.

   "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow or even in the next half
an hour, David, but I know this much and that is that I want you to make
love to me."

   Her words were like a clarion call to my libido and my penis sprang to
attention like a cadet on a parade ground.  Kathleen crawled up over me,
spit on her hand to lubricate the tip of my cock, and then put the tip in
the split between her labia and pushed down.

   "Ahhhhhhhh," she sighed as her clit mashed into my pubic bone.  She
ground against me for a few moments and then began to gently move her hips
up and down.  I captured her tits in my hands and pulled them to my face,
burying myself between them, covering them with kisses, sucking the
hardened tips to glistening points of flesh.  I grabbed her ass and forced
her hips down so that every last speck of my flesh was in contact with
hers.

   Need drove her to increase the pace and I kept up with her timing my
thrusts to hers watching her pleasure mount until a series of small orgasms
swept over her like high tide.  I threw her off me suddenly, rolling her
onto her belly and then covering her with my body, my cock seeking the slit
it had so recently given up and piercing it to the hilt.

   I wanted this woman to feel pleasure like she'd never felt anything else
in her life before.  I wanted her to share the joy that I experienced
knowing that she returned my love for her.  My cock became the expression
of that love and each stroke was like an arrow from Cupid's quiver aimed
directly at her heart.

   Now she was really cumming; every stroke taking her farther and farther
down the path to an oblivion of pleasure.  I was relentless in my
lovemaking now but the intent was different.  This wasn't a competition it
was a mutual search for a connection between two souls.  I was pouring
myself into her forcing myself up the ladder of pleasure to the point at
which the flood gates would open and I gave Kathleen, my goddess, the only
offering I had to give her.

   A last series of short, sharp, strokes and I went over, buried to the
hilt, spitting and jerking inside her quaking cooze.  She felt it.  I know
she did because she cried out my name over and over as a kind of mantra all
through my own little death.

   I didn't think I'd ever stop cumming and I didn't want to.  I wanted to
freeze this moment in time and hang onto it - live there forever.  That, of
course, is not possible.  But if you've ever experienced that one magic
moment you know what I mean.

   Spent once more I pulled out of Kathleen's pussy and lay next to her. 
She came into my arms and we kissed each other with passion and affection.
We cuddled.  We slept.  We woke.  We showered.  We made love in the shower.
My soapy cock explored the mysteries of her asshole while she frigged
herself to a frantic climax in a race against the capacity of the hotel's
water heater.  We dried off.  We made love again.  We slept.  We woke.  We
fucked.

   Five a.m.

   "I love you, David Donaldson," Kathleen whispered to me as we both woke
from passion's slumber.

   "I love you Kathleen O'Brien," I replied in kind.  "The question is, now
what?"

   "Go home, my love.  Go to sleep.  I'll go home in the...no check
that...later this morning.  We'll think about this and we'll talk some
more. After all, between the two of us we have a combined IQ of over 500 -
we should be able to sort this out," she added, smiling.

   I kissed her once and then I got up and put some clothes on.  She came
to the door as I prepared to leave and kissed me again.  I stumbled off
into the early morning and somehow got home.  I had no more idea what I
would do about Kathleen than I had about a cure for the common cold.  But,
tomorrow, as they say, is another day.  Who knows what might happen?  We
had our moment, and if it was the only one we would have I would always
have at least that.
   What was it Bogie said in Casablanca?  "We'll always have Paris." 

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