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The Girl Ch. 2

By: rexfelis



Please feel free to leave me feedback. All responses are welcome.

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"Stand up, Desiree."

She stood up, a long string of our shared fluids forming between us where it had oozed out of her and onto my leg. I watched it lengthen impressively before it separated. I stood up next to her. She was trembling slightly. All this was new to her, and she was experiencing a little sensory overload, but I knew she would be alright.

"Follow me," I said, taking her hand. I led her to my bedroom.

"This is your bedroom, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes." I led her over to the bed.

She climbed onto the bed and layed down, bent and then spread her legs, and waited expectantly.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I saw the bed and this is what I had the urge to do. I want to have sex again, Johnathan. Can we? Please?"

"I thought you wanted to know the difference between sex and lovemaking?" 

"I... want... I feel... I... I need... sex..." she stammered. 

She'd been genetically programmed to offer sex when she was nude and saw a bed, I knew.  Glancing at her femalia did wonders for my arousal, and within moments I had an erection again. Upon seeing it, she looked pained, hungry for it, and and she whimpered with desire.

"Please, Johnathan... I want... I..." she said, seemingly confused. Then she sat up and crawled forward, and took my manhood in her hand, gently, exploratively, and looked into my eyes almost with a pleading look. I could tell she was feeling a genetically driven urge to suck on it. I nodded my permission, and she continued following that programmed desire. 

Grow-lings are made so that every cell in their body wants for the pleasure of their owner, who they bond with forever upon having sex for the first time. Female grow-lings are usually programmed to have a sex drive equal to their owners, and it was supposed to be quite high at first, until they had enough sex to determine what their owner wants. Eventually, she would do everything just as I liked it without even thinking. Some grow-lings are even said to develop a psychic bond with their owners, to the point that they can read their owner's minds and anticipate what was desired before it even becomes a conscious thought to the owner.

She approached my fully engorged stiffness, looking at it closely, almost drinking it with her eyes, and then paused. She was confused a little at first by her genetic desires, but she figured it out shortly and hesitantly kissed the head. Then she looked up at me to check for approval. I smiled and nodded for her to continue, and she did. She kissed it slowly, then paused, trying to understand what her instinctual urges were telling her to do. Then she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue a bit, moved closer, and licked the tip.

The taste of her own depths mixed with my semen must have been the first flavor she ever experienced, and after pausing a moment to experience it, she smiled a beaming smile and licked it until there was nothing left to taste of our previous encounter. By that time, I was starting to warm to the encounter again, and I noticed she was concentrating her licks on my opening, where more pre-come must have been making itself known.

"Mmm, I like this..."

"I do too," I replied. "But when you put it in your mouth, make sure you don't touch it with your teeth."

"Ok," she said.

Then she opened her mouth and took in the head, and I felt her tongue on it as her mouth close. She moved her tongue as though she was sucking a hard candy.

"Mmmm," I moaned. She saw my response, and was encouraged to take more of it in. As she did that, she realized that she wanted to suck it in further and imitate in her mouth the movements it had made within her pussy. She began giving me a blowjob and I couldn't believe how good it felt, especially coming from someone who had never given one before.

Soon she had forgotten to worry about hesitation and seeking permission and she was busy enjoying herself with this new experience. Back and forth went her head, alternately taking me in and releasing me from her mouth. She varied the speeds and depths, experimenting, but never once did I feel teeth on my sensitive member. It was almost as pleasurable as her smouldering sex had been a few minutes ago. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and just stood there enjoying the sensations she was sending through my body with her cute little mouth. Just as I had specified, she had full, pouty lips, and boy did they feel good.

She continued on, exploring different techniques for a bit, doing different things with her tongue, trying different angles, different speeds, and then she tried to take all of me into her mouth at once. Amazingly, it slid down her throat without the slightest gag reflex, and when she noticed the surprise and pleasure on my face and heard the sudden involuntary gasp I made, she decided that this was a Good Thing, and started taking me down her throat rythmically. I could not believe how good it felt! I had never had such an amazing blow job. She continued, and I closed my eyes and started involuntarily thrusting my hips to meet her as she swallowed me with each thrust. Her response was to speed up a bit, and I sped up with her, until I was fucking her mouth as fast and as hard as I had been fucking her pussy not long before. 

It wasn't long before I was making involuntary sounds in response to my rapidly growing pleasure, and she began to make sounds of her own. Her sounds indicated to me that - somehow - she was on the verge of another orgasm of her own. Was she built to come whenever I did? The thought passed out of my mind as fast as it had entered, because there was just too much pleasure to be able to think straight at that point. 

I felt the seeds of my orgasm start deep within me. I put my handa on her head and began guiding her down onto my now raging erection, again and again and again. This only seemed to infuriate her own arousal, and a split second before I came, she stopped moving and began shaking violently as she achieved another fantastic orgasm. Mine came with an explosion from my cock that came out so hard it must have shot right into her stomach. Her body was moving almost convulsively to her own monstrous release. I groaned long and hard as my peak washed over me with the force of a tidal wave, my hardened length twitching powerfully in her mouth. 

"Oh my god, woman!" I said, after catching my breath. "That was amazing!" 

With her own final twitches of pleasure going through her body, she sighed out her nose, my manhood still in her mouth. Smiling as best she could, she looked up at me, gave my cock a few more strokes with her mouth, and then released it. 

"I am supposed to please my owner," she said matter-of-factly. "Can we have more sex now?"

She returned to the position in which she had first settled herself on my bed when we came in. Her pussy and hips were swollen with blood and desire, and despite my just having had two majorly powerful orgasms, I found that the sight of her sex reversed any thoughts my dick had had of shrinking. Before even finishing it's softening, it grew fully erect again. Just as before, the faint scent of female in heat wafted past my nostrils. There was such a surge of sexual response in me that I knew she must have been genetically modified to have extremely potent sexual pheromones. 

My mouth began watering fiercely, and all of a sudden all I could think about was lapping at that swollen pink slit, pulsing between her legs. I crawled onto the bed, my erection demanding that I forget my tongue's desires, but I wanted to eat her out and I was going to. It was a curious look on her face when I approached her heat with my face instead of my cock, and she asked what I was doing.

"I am going to eat you," I said with a naughty look in my eye.

"No! You can't do that!" she screamed, closing her legs and scooting back as fast as she could. "Please, Johnathan, don't eat me!" she begged, as tears of fear welled up in her eyes. "I'll do anything for you! Don't hurt me! I... I love you..."

I was at once struck sad and sympathetic, and yet wanted to laugh at her misunderstanding.

"Oh, baby girl, I'm not going to hurt you," I said soothingly. "I didn't mean I was going to literally eat you like food... I was using slang," I comforted.

She relaxed a little.

"What's... what's slang, Johnathan?" fear was still in her voice and she looked at me like a puppy who has just been stepped on, seeking the love and reassurance it thought it had before.

"Slang is the use of a word for something other than it's literal definition. When I said I was going to eat you, I meant I was going to lick your pussy and make you come for me. It's a form of sex, like what you just did for me with your mouth. I wanted to please you in return. I'm not going to hurt you! You're my baby." She crawled over and cuddled up against my chest again, seeking shelter from the threat she's mistakenly thought she had heard.

"Promise?" she asked, looking up at me with an adorable puppy dog look. I could not help but put my arms around her again. 

"I promise, love." I kissed her, and then she rested her head against my chest as I rocked her for a few minutes.

While I did this, I pondered my response to her. She had indeed been tailored to me exactly. I was treating her like she was my long lost love after only a half an hour together! The Company must have done something special with that DNA sample I had given them. They told me it was to program her and bind her to me and me alone. They must have done just that, because she was certainly pushing all the right buttons.

"Johnathan?" she asked, looking into my eyes again, meekly.

"What, baby?"

"Do you still want to 'eat me'?" A little giggle escaped her, and a smile of love and trust that would melt ice followed. It was written in her eyes, and all over her beautiful face. She was deeply in love with me, the only person she had ever known, and the only person she would ever share herself with. I could feel myself falling madly in love with her as well.

"Yes, lover. I still want to 'eat you'." I said with a grin.

To be continued. Please VOTE! 

The Girl Ch. 3



Please feel free to leave feedback. All comments are welcome. All non-anonymous responses will be replied to.

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The tenderness of the moment had erased my lust and replaced it with the right mood for what I had intended to show her in the first place. I held her to me, my lips and nose resting on the top of her head, smelling that gorgeous hair, feeling it soft against my lips. My arms were wrapped comfortably around my lover.

"I love you, Johnathan," she said quietly after a moment.

This was just too amazing. I had only met her half an hour ago, and here she was deeply in love with me - and more amazing still, I found myself falling madly in love with her, as well. I smiled and kissed her head.

"I love you too, Desiree."

She looked up at me again, and smiled with such innocent love in her eyes that I knew I could never let her be hurt. Then she rested her head against my chest again.

"Johnathan?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Show me lovemaking, please."

"Sweetheart," I replied.

"Yes?"

"I am."

I saw her smile again.

"I thought you said lovemaking involved sex?"

"I said lovemaking does not necessarily involve sex, lover."

"Oh. But it can?"

I rocked her gently.

"Yes, it can."

"Then show me the difference between sex sex and lovemaking sex, please."

I smiled again. "Alright, love."

We layed down together and I held her to me. We spooned, the lengths of our bodies touching. Her back was to my chest as I held her. I whispered to her that I loved her and that I was so glad that she was mine. I told her that she was my dream come true and that I was going to make sure she was safe and loved for the rest of her life. She smiled.

Then I nibbled her ear. She was still, unsure what was happening, what I was doing and why, but in a moment she began to relax and enjoy the sensation. I softly blew cool air over her ear, and she shivered. Then I let my hand rest on her shoulder. My palm was hot with energy, and she jumped a little in surprise, but when the heat did not bring pain, she relaxed. 

My hand slowly moved down her arm, in a broad caress, and then back up, and she found it impossible to keep her eyes open. Her breathing began to slow as I touched her in this loving way, and she relaxed more and more. I slid my hand across her shoulder, then and over to the top of her chest above her beautiful softnesses. Her nipples showed against the thin tank top she still wore, and I whispered to her to take it off. Getting up on one elbow, removed it rather unceremoniously, and then asked me what to do with it. 

"Toss it aside," I said. "Let's not worry about that sort of thing for now. We're making love."

After dropping it over the side of the bed, she returned to the position she'd been in. Now, for the first time, I gazed at her lovely back. She was heavily freckled about the face and shoulders, and they sprinkled down her back as though they had been dropped on her from above, thinning to almost none at the bottom of her shoulderblades. Her back was smooth, and I could not help but to caress it, first with fingertips, then with my whole hand. She shivered again as I did, with her skin going into goose pimples for a moment in response to my light touches.

Propping myself up on one elbow, now, I was high enough above her shoulder to see the outline of her beautiful breasts. They were almost devoid of freckles, though she had some on her chest above them. Small curves, but proud, they stayed as they had been while she'd been standing, even though she was on her side. Their gentle curvature seemed to offer up her nipples to me only tentativey, and her round areolas were so pale that it was difficult to see them against the skin surrounding them. It was easier to see them because they were contracted in pleasure and arousal than it was to distinguish them by their color. Her nipples as well were erect, standing out from her breasts like pink pencil erasers. 

I was thrilled. She'd been made to my specifications exactly. I was having a hard time not jumping out of bed and doing a happy dance.

My hand slid down to where it had been before she'd taken off her tank top. The smoothness, the softness of just her warm skin was enough to make my eyes hint at tears. She was so beautiful to me that I could almost not bear it.

My hand stayed there a moment, as I considered her, drinking in the sight, enjoying the warmth of her body so close to my own, the paleness of her skin, the freckles, the curve of her hips as they flared out, her softnesses, and that backside that was almost too perfect for my eyes to believe. I let my hand roam down her side, enjoying her waist, the easy flare of her hips, her muscular upper thigh, and then back down onto that graceful little backside. It was all so perfect, felt so good. 

I allowed my hand to stray to the front of her hips, and over what of her mound of Venus I could touch with her legs resting closed, then up to where her belly button would be if she had been a born woman, exploring that difference for a moment. From there, I sent it further up over her stomach. I reached the bottom of her breasts, and allowed my hand to slowly slide up onto one of them, which was amazingly sensual and delightfully soft. It was like touching a woman's breast for the first time again, and I marvelled at how nice it felt.

I'd become lost in my attentions and had not noticed her breathing had begun speeding up again. Her eyes were still closed, and her nipples stood like conquering mountainclimbers atop gently rolling hills. I allowed my hand to slide over her right breast, and she moaned as the soft caress sent shivery pleasure through her from her nipple and areola. I caressed her breast for a few moments, pleasuring her enough to elicit several more soft moans from her.

"Lay on your back, Desiree."

She let herself roll half way over onto her back. Her eyes opened, and searched mine as I gazed down into them. The expression she wore was one of aroused relaxation, and I could see she was wanting more. Now that she was on her back, I could more easily reach the other breast, and I caressed it, now, as well. Her eyes once again closed. I heard her moan faintly, and it pleased me.

"This is called foreplay. This is where we touch each other lovingly and bring eachother pleasure and arouse one another slowly, before we become intimate physically. Foreplay is part of lovemaking. I will teach you how to reciprocate in a little while. It's not lovemaking if there is no reciprocation."

"Mmmmm," she said. "Does it please you to touch me this way? Is my pleasure your pleasure?"

"Yes. I enjoy bringing pleasure to my lover, just as I enjoy receiving pleasure from her."

Desiree smiled, and closed her eyes again, surrendering to my touch. I allowed it to play about her body lightly, caressing her chest, neck, face, shoulders, stomach, hips, thighs and waist. All the while, I watched what I was doing, and saw her bodily responses, and it filled me with love for her, and aroused me at the same time.

"I love your freckles," I said. "You are so beautiful. I think I will call you my 'cinnamon girl'."

"Does that replace the name you gave me earlier?" she asked, opening her eyes a moment.

"No. Your name is Desiree, but I will call you my cinnamon girl occasionally as well." I smiled.

She smiled back. Instead of closing her eyes again, this time, she looked at me with that smile on her face, a light smile of contentment, and then she reached over and pulled me to her and into a kiss. It was an innocent kiss, a beautiful kiss. I returned it, taking her upper lip between my own lips, and licking it a moment before doing the same with her lower lip. Then I softly suckled her lower lip a moment and let it go.

"What is that, Johnathan?" she asked of my actions.

"That's part of the way I kiss," I replied.

"Should I kiss like that too?"

"If you feel the urge to," I smiled. "But don't do it just because I do. Do what feels natural."

She returned my smile once again.

"I will try it."

Pulling my head to hers again, she kissed me as she had before. She did as I had, taking my upper lip into her mouth slightly, licking it, and then my lower lip. Then she licked my lower lip and suckled on it for a minute before releasing it.

"Was that good?"

"You did exactly what I did. Did you enjoy it?" I asked, avoiding her question.

"I enjoy touching my lips to yours, Johnathan. It feels like something moving in my stomach when I do that It feels good."

"That's called butterflies in your belly. That happens when you're enjoying something intimate with someone you care about for the first times."

"Aren't butterflies insects?" she asked, looking a bit worried. "There are insects inside me?"

I could not help myself and laughed aloud. 

"No, silly. It's slang again. The sensation feels like butterflies flapping their wings in your tummy. That's why it's called butterflies."

"Oh. I understand." she smiled. "You teach me a lot of interesting things, Johnathan. I like learning from you."

I held her close and kissed her forehead. 

"Would you like to try a different way of kissing?" I asked.

"Yes, please."

I approached her slowly, parting my lips slightly, placing them on hers so that her upper lip was between my lips and my lower lip was between hers. I sucked her lip a moment, then lightly caressed her lips with mine. She shivered. Then I put my lips against hers, top lip on top lip, bottom lip on bottom lip, and opened my mouth a little more, pulling her lips open with mine. I licked her lips, and then sought entrance to her mouth, looking for her tongue, which I found waiting there, unmoving. I allowed the bottom of my tongue to glide over the top of hers, and then pulled a little bit away. 

"This is called French kissing," I said. "I call it 'tongue ballet' because it's like dancing together using only the tongues. Follow my lead,"

It didn't take her long to understand what to do, and as she picked up one part of it, I introduced another, and soon we were making out rather passionately.

"Oh, Johnathan," she said between licks and kisses, "This feels so good..."

I gave her several minutes of this experience before I pulled away. She tried to follow at first, but I put my finger to her lips intending to hold her back. Instead, she promptly began sucking my finger, with a surprising combination of gentleness and passion. The look in her eyes told me that she was growing heated and it would not be much longer that I could do these things with her before she would want me inside her.

Her sucking felt good, and I noticed stirring in my loins again as the sensation brought back pleasant memories of what she had done just minutes ago. It seemed for a split second that she was sucking my cock through my finger, and the sensation was in both places at once. My whole body involuntarily twitched. My own arousal was growing in strength and momentum.

Bringing my head down to kiss her between her collarbones, I held my arm still so she could continue her suckling as she pleased. Then my lips traced each collarbone lightly from the inside out to each shoulder. Her suckling did not last long as she forgot herself to the sensation of what I was doing. With the hand of the finger she'd been sucking on, I caressed her face, tracing little wet lines with her own saliva. Her eyes closed and soft sounds of pleasure came from her as I kissed and caressed with my lips down to between her breasts.

As she arched her back slightly to my touch, I slid my lips lightly over her left breast until I came to that rounded patch of roughness around her proud nipple. Her heartbeat was obvious. As my mouth approached that hungry suckle nub, I exhaled slowly, sending hot, moist breath over it before my lips made contact. Her response was a tortured groan.

My tongue found it's way to her areola and encircled her nipple with warm wetness in a slow, leisurely fashion, around and around. She moaned again softly, and lifted it up to me, trying to get me to take her nipple into my mouth. Instead, I lifted my head a bit, pursed my lips into a tight 'o' just above her now-wet nipple, and inhaled hard. This had the dual effect of drawing a lot of cool air over her nipple and areola, chilling it, and then as it was sucked into my mouth, suddenly reversing the chill. By the sounds she made in response, she liked it.

I performed the same little trick on her right breast, while gently rolling her left nipple between my finger and thumb, and was met with sighs and mews of pleasure from her. Then I began dedicatedly suckling, making sure she enjoyed the texture of my tongue across that delicious knob on her bare bosom. 

Apparently, she liked it, because she started running her hands through my hair and groaning as I did it. I love suckling my lover's breasts, so I was having a good time. But when she started to shiver, then shake, I suspected she was coming to the edge again. Her hands were all over me as I continued suckling her into oblivion, her back arching suddenly enough that I had difficulty not biting her when she shoved herself into my face so hard. A loud groaning escaped her mouth, getting louder as she went further and further into it.

My right hand left her nipple and slid down her stomach and beyond, finding her legs spread, her pussy ready. My hand cupped her mound as she convulsed in her orgasm, and my middle finger found it's way down between her lips to touch her clitoris, which sent her into a spasm of pleasure so hard it almost threw me off her. Her writhing was growing almost violent now, and I could not track her breast anymore. I pulled my hand away as well, for fear of hurting her, and with the stimulation gone, she settled down a bit. Panting, she pulled my face to hers and kissed me with surprising passion and expertise. That kiss ignited in me the same level of passion she was feeling, somehow. I was not surprised in the least when I saw in her eyes a begging look. 

"Please, Johnathan, please, I need sex! Lovemaking is driving me crazy!" she cried out. "I want to have you inside me again," she said as she bit her bottom lip and looked up at me with pleading puppydog innocence. Hello! That was such a turn on. It wasn't like I wasn't already hard, but that certainly sent a surge through me. 

"This time, we are going to do it a little bit differently," I said, forcibly controlling myself.

She frowned, her lip still between her teeth, and gave me a pleading look with a whimper that almost made my control melt. I slid myself on top of her, enjoying the sensation of her chest against mine, her stomach against mine, and positioned my throbbing stiffness between her legs, but I did not try to put it into her yet. Her hips raised slightly in anticipation, her breath coming in semi-gasps, her legs wrapping around mine. It amazed me how much she was doing on pure instinct. I kissed her again, and she put her arms around me, holding me to her, caressing my muscular back, enjoying. The sensation was bliss for me, who loves to be touched that way. 

In response, I slid my arms under her, holding her as she held me, and kissed her with renewed passion. I almost forgot about her puppy dog look begging for me to be inside her, so much was I enjoying the kissing, but she began insistently thrusting her hips into me, and the reached down and tried to guide me into her. I stopped my kiss, grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

"Uh-uh-uh!" I smiled. "Let me."

Putting her arm aside, I slid my own down between us, and in between her legs. I again let my hand caress her mound, enjoying the heat radiating from it and the slit that pulsed rapidly, synchronized with her pounding heart, which I could see plainly enough in her heaving bosom. I allowed the back of my hand to brush lightly against those lips and then against her clitoris again. She jumped a little, and then rasied up to increase the pressure on it a little. I allowed it, and she began to buck a little as I rubbed it back and forth. 

"Please... please..." she gasped.

"Please what?" I demanded.

"Please, I need to feel you inside me again..."

I looked into her desperate eyes with a wicked smile on my face, and without ever letting our eye contact break, I moved my hips so that my thick hot cock was sliding over her thigh and my head was caressing her outer lips. She almost cried in frustration at the pleasure I was forcing her to endure, and she tried to track my member with her hips and take me in. Bringing my hips forward, I caught her just under her now tightly hooded clit, and my shaft was guided down and into her eager depths by the valley of her inner lips. 

She knew she had me, and eagerly arched to bring her hips up to meet me, swallowing me into her with one easy thrust of her loins into mine. She was so loose now with her arousal, and so wet that it was almost impossible to feel her as I slid in so easily. Sliding home inflamed her and she began trying to buck me in and out of her in her desperation for this pleasure she was feeling. I slid in as deep as I could go, my hips flush against her sex now as she raised her legs up and to my sides to grant me better access. When she tried to buck again, I lowered my hips and brough hers down onto the bed that way, effectively pinning her down. 

She tried to buck my weight, but I forced her hips to stay where they were with mine, never once taking my eyes off hers.

"You're not making love to me, silly," I laughed.

"I want sex!" she almost screamed.

"You want sex? I'll give you sex. How's THIS?" I said, almost growling, and pounded into her just once, then pinned her again. She cried out in surprise and pleasure. 

"Please, please, please..." she begged as she started crying for real this time. I layed down on top of her, slowly, and kissed her forcefully. She returned it with equal force through her tears of frustration, almost growling at me ferally. Deliberately, with measured strokes and steady force, I began pumping in and out of her. It was a delicious feeling, though she had loosened up and lubricated so much in her extreme state of arousal that I had trouble feeling her. It did not matter anyway, because this time around would take me a long time to come. She, on the other hand, was already furiously bucking at me, forcing me to speed up, until I was arched over her, fucking her at such a high speed and with such force that I wondered how long my stomach muscles would hold out. 

She was right there, though, and within seconds, was tensing her entire body. Her face grew red as she bore down on her orgasm without breathing, and her eyes were so tightly shut that the last of her tears was squeezed out and rolled away. I continued into her with that hard, fast pace, and then she broke the crest of it and screamed with abandon as the most powerful orgasm she'd had yet overtook her. She somehow grew nails right then, and reached around to my back, implanting them in my flesh with incredible force and then tearing them down my back. Her stomach had tightened so much that it had formed into only a narrow band of muscle, and her face looked as though it would tear apart with the pain she appeared to be in. Her hands came free of my back and grasped at empty air, and finally, she was able to inhale again.

Again she was sobbing. She cried with abandon, and then grasped my face and pulled me into a kiss of such force that I thought my lips would be crushed. Holding me to her as close as she could, crying in my arms, she sobbed out her love for me. I held her and let myself relax and breathe while she cried it out.

"I love you, too, baby girl." 

She cried for several minutes, holding me there, my face in her hair. When she had stopped, and she was running her hands through my hair, I lifted myself up and looked into her eyes. They were bloodshot and puffy and red, but in those pools of sapphire I could see her raw emotions, and a love for me so deep and strong that I was taken aback for a moment. 




The Girl Ch. 3



This was not what I had expected from a grow-ling; I must have gotten a very special one, one of those rare few who was more human than they knew how to make a grow-ling on purpose.

I layed back down on her again, enjoying the closeness, holding one another, relaxing when I realized something interesting had happened.... our hearts were beating in unison... and we were breathing in unison, as well. 

"Was that lovemaking?" she asked softly.

"Do you love me?" I asked.

"Yes," 

"Did we share a deep exchange of emotional and sexual intimacy?"

"Yes... I mean, I think we did... do you?"

"I think you're a loving tigress is what I think," I said laughing.

I had been careful not to move my hips, because I was still inside her. Now I began slowly thrusting myself in and out of her tightening femaleness, as I layed there on her. 

"Mmmmmmm,"

She responded by bringing her legs back up and wrapping them around my waist as I took her, slowly this time. She was sated, and began kissing my ear. I continued my movements for a long time, until I felt that seed of orgasm deep within me again. She was enjoying the intimacy of being united with me, and when I started speeding up in my own impending orgasm, raising myself up again to take her from a lion pose, she watched my eyes with intent interest, looking deep within my soul. Such piercingly blue eyes she had that I felt for a moment as though I was being looked through by them, but they held nothing but searching love.

This time, my orgasm was not greeted by one of hers. Instead, it took my eyes back into my head in near-silence, but I knew she was watching intently as her body and her intimacy with me brought me this overwhelming sensation. I knew she was smiling happily at being able to bring me this pleasure. And when I relaxed, she took me into her arms again, and snuggled her head against mine.

"I love you Johnathan," I heard her say softly. I smiled and snuggled a little closer. With that, we surrendered together, and slept.

(Should I continue? Tell me. And please VOTE!)



The Girl Ch. 4



Desiree awoke to the growl of her stomach. It startled her, and she sat up and looked around. Johnathan lay next to her, his back to her, on his side. The morning sunlight shone through the white curtains, filling the room with a warm glow that seemed almost solid in its peacefulness. As soon as she looked at him she was calm, knowing that even though she was unfamiliar with her surroundings, he somehow made her safe just by being there with her.

She found herself staring at him as he slept. His chest moved with each breath, his bare back smooth and hinting at the muscles under his warm skin, appearing so inviting to touch in the soft glow of the early morning sun. Even, steady breaths showed his comfort in sleeping next to her. After several moments of this, it was just too much for her; she had to touch him. Her smallish hand slid gently over his arm and down onto his lightly furred chest, relishing the masculine definition it held. He made a noise as if to acknowledge her in a dream, and then was silent again.

Her hand played in his soft, light fur and she became aroused. From his chest, she ran it over his arm, and down to his hip, pushing back the covers to reveal his backside. He had a small derriere, smaller than her own despite his somewhat larger frame, but it was nicely curved. And, she thought, extremely appealing to the eye. She caressed it as best she could in the position she was in, somehow feeling a little naughty for touching it, but finding the experience very erotic and enjoyable at the same time. After a moment he stirred, and it startled her a little. He was asleep, apparently, because his eyes were closed. After a moment, he mumbled something incomprehensible and turned half way towards her, now laying on his back.

His bare chest was on full display now. Her eyes scanned it, drinking it in, and she found her loins beginning to warm rapidly. There was something about his chest and stomach that just did it for her; she did not know what. The growing moisture and heat between her legs, though, proved it beyond the shadow of a doubt. Without her realizing it, her breathing had begun to deepen and speed up. She bit her lower lip lightly and quite unconsciously, and continued her explorative caresses.

The covers were hiding his maleness, but only barely. Perhaps a third of his thick, dark brown pubic hair was exposed on the side of him she was on, and she caught a hint of his personal sexual scent. That scent, which would have been undetectable by other than a female nose, electrified her instantly. Her nipples stiffened, her hidden heat surged suddenly with wetness, her heart suddenly raced and her breath caught in her throat for a second. Desiree could not resist it. She had to breathe that scent in and experience it further.

Gingerly, she pulled the sheets back to revealed a rather large, semi-soft penis erupting from his patch of pubic hair. The contrast was such that it emphasized the thing, bringing her entire attention to it and it alone. Desiree drew closer to it, breathing in his scent as deeply as she could, loathing to exhale because it meant she could not smell him for a moment, could not continuously feed the addiction she was captivated by. Each exhalation was hurried, impatient, and then she was at him again, drinking his body's lusty advertisement, reveling in the high it gave her. By the time she got her face to his sex, she was literally beginning to drool with desire, from both her mouth and her hidden heat. Desiree buried her nose in his pubic hair and slowly breathed in perhaps the deepest breath she had ever taken. It was pure bliss. This man was everything, and she must have him in every way she could. She wanted nothing more that to unite with him in the deepest possible way and stay united that way forever.

From her deep inhalation of his scent, it was a short step to letting her desires take over. She opened her mouth, and his maleness quickly disappeared into it. Taking it into her as deeply as she could without swallowing it down her throat, she slowly savored the sensation against her tongue, the roof of her mouth and her lips. It was wonderful, but not quite enough; she needed something more. His heartbeat was light but detectable on her lips, and this thrilled her to no end for some reason. She beamed in delight, and began sucking his semi-flaccid manhood like it was some sort of gummy candy cock. With the suction, her tongue slid back and forth over the underside of his head and the top of his shaft, and she loved the sensation of his helmet in her mouth.

Johnathan drifted out of sleep's unconsciousness and into the barest of awareness, but he knew something was going on. Something good. Whatever it was, it filled his entire pelvic area with a warm, glowy pleasure that was akin to being immersed in a thick, warm fluid. It was at once totally relaxing and yet, beckoning to something else, something more. The pleasure pulled at him, gathering momentum, making him both very aroused, and yet curious. It called to him, slipping him out of sleep and into a dream of the most beautiful woman in the world – his Desiree – pleasuring him with her mouth. He settled into the dream, and could feel her mouth, sweet and velvety warm on him, licking the underside of his head and shaft. It made him groan in pleasure. 

This went on for a little while, until it started creeping down the length of his shaft towards the base, enveloping him slowly, as if a millimeter were a mile, producing the most amazing sensation somewhere unidentifiable inside his hips. Then, after it reached the base of his cock, that sensation began to move up and down on him, in a slow, determined piston-like movement. It grew in speed and soon he was experiencing so much pleasure that he knew he could not help himself but to explode very soon. Futilely, he tried to resist that impending sensation of overwhelming bliss, tried and failed. It only made the orgasm stronger, harder, and he exploded with such force and pleasure that it awoke him fully in a second. His eyes flew open as he yelled out his unbearable pleasure. He saw her looking back at him with perhaps the most surprised and bewildered look on her face as his juices shot out her nose and back onto him.

She looked as though she'd been simultaneously been caught in the act of doing something terribly naughty, and totally surprised. She withdrew from him, making faces and twitching her nose violently, trying to wipe away that stinging fluid she had accidentally washed her nose out with. A massive sneeze blew the remnants all over her legs, his stomach and the bed. She looked like she felt better, if not mortally embarrassed. It was all just too much for him, and Johnathan burst out laughing as hard and as freely as he'd ever laughed before in his life. When his eyes open from the laughter, he saw that she was gone. 

“Aw, shit...” he muttered to himself. He knew, with a sinking feeling, that he'd hurt her. Suddenly it didn't seem funny in the least. He wiped his eyes and jumped up, calling her name.

“Desiree? Baby, where are you?” he said, walking out of the bedroom. He found her huddled on the couch in the fetal position, sobbing quietly to herself. Instantly, he felt like an unworthy bastard. He swallowed hard to fight back the growing pain in his heart at having hurt her feelings.

Kneeling next to the couch, he apologized. 

“I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings... honestly I didn't. Please forgive me.”

She turned her head away and continued sobbing quietly to herself. His heart sank even lower.

“Please talk to me,” he asked softly. There came only the soft sobbing that escaped the couch's muffling effects. He waited a few moments, trying to think of what to do, what to say.

“Baby, I was not laughing at you to hurt you. I was not trying to be hurtful at all. It was just the response that came to me when I opened my eyes at the exact moment I did and saw my come blow out your nose, and... the expression on...” he said, allowing the feeble attempt at explanation to die on his lips. 

“I'm so sorry, lover,” he said, hanging his head. “Please forgive me.” 

After a moment of uncertainty, Johnathan sighed deeply, got up and walked into the kitchen. Johnathan didn't quite know what to do with himself. He'd caused her so much upset, without intending to, and yet it caused him so much pain to see her hurting... what could he do? 

'Maybe I should just give her some time, and then try to make things right when she's calmed down a bit,' he thought. Not knowing what else to do, he began cooking breakfast: bacon and eggs with sausage links. Soon the sounds and scents filled the kitchen. Johnathan's mind was on the incident, and he was caught quite by surprise when a nasty grease splatter landed on his arm. He screamed out in pain and staggered back, almost falling, only to be steadied by Desiree's arms. She had been standing there watching him cook breakfast, and somehow had anticipated that he'd be in need of steadying. 

He turned to her, looked into her reddened eyes, the spatula he'd been tending the eggs with still in his hand. She looked up at him with teary eyes that seemed to beg him for something, but he could not quite understand what. 'Please,' they said. Johnathan forgot everything else and took her into his arms, wrapping her up so tightly that she almost disappeared. She wrapped her arms around him, too. He kissed the top of her head, and rocked her for a while. Then he remembered that the grease had splattered on his arm, and all of a sudden the incredible burning sensation was there, as though it were some sort of delayed response. With her in one arm, he walked over to the sink, set the spatula down on the counter beside it, and reached for a paper towel with his burned arm. The pain was searing, and the motion made it hurt worse. Johnathan winced and hot tears came to his eyes as he extended his arm, pulling the burned skin ever so slightly. A high pitched cry choked in his throat, but she heard it. Desiree saw his pain, and looked at him with a combination of helplessness and sadness. She didn't know how to help him, but she knew he was hurt, and she wanted desperately to do something.

“Johnathan, what can I do to help you? I see that you are in pain. How can I bring you pleasure?” she asked, the helplessness obvious in her voice.

“Please get me some ice out of the freezer,” he replied. A single tear rolled down his cheek, betraying his courageous attempts to appear unhurt. His eyes closed in pain. He struggled valiantly not to show her this growing agony, but it came through anyway.

“Wait a minute... I... I remember something, I think,” she said. Memories out of the abyss of her newly programmed mind rose to the surface, slowly at first, then more fully. She remembered touching a cut and healing it, so she took his arm and put her right hand over the burn, with her palm right down on it. Johnathan's eyes flew open instantly, as he screamed in agony when she did this, but she clamped down on the burn with her small hands, somehow resisting his frantic attempts to pry them off. Her eyes closed, her head went back a bit, and then something happened... but exactly what, Johnathan could not tell. What he did know was that all of a sudden, he was screaming without a cause. The pain had simply vanished!

“What the hell?!” he cried out, wiping away a now-useless tear that had begun to tickle. He stared at her in awe as her head came back upright and her eyes opened. She looked up at him, searching his eyes - waiting, hoping and expectant. Johnathan looked at her face, then down to his arm and back again, and then as she released his arm, he looked at the still greasy spot that had been an angry red before. It was simply greasy now, and there was no sign of a burn or pain.

“What did you do?!” he asked incredulously.

“Have I done wrong, Johnathan?” she asked, sounding a bit unsure of herself.

“No! I just... I don't understand how you did that!” 

“I remembered... I just... remembered it, and... I did it again,” she replied, her memories elusive now.

“You just healed my burn with a touch in less than a second!” he cried.

“Was I too slow?” she asked, confused by his demeanor.

“No! I mean, I don't know how you did it, but... it's good! Very good!”

There was a moment of silence between them. He stared at her in awe, and she smiled slightly, pleased that she could make him feel better, but still uncertain of herself. Their eyes were love-locked for an eternal moment.

It was the smell of burning food reaching his nostrils that broke the spell. His awe was replaced with concern, and he grabbed the spatula and attended the severely overcooked food. It was a total loss. He turned the stove off and set the food on a cool burner.

“Well, so much for breakfast,” he sighed.

“I can cook,” she stated.

“You can? How did you learn to cook?”

“I don't remember. But I do know how to cook. Would you like for me to recreate the intent of your efforts?”

He laughed. Her technicality was amusing to him, sometimes, and endearing at the same time.

“I have a better idea, lover. Let's make love and then go out to a restaurant for breakfast.”

“A restaurant? What is a restaurant?” she asked.

“It's a place where other people cook your food and serve it to you and then you pay them for the service. No work, no dirty dishes, no burned arms -” At this she laughed lightly.

“I can cook for you and serve you. It would make me happy to see you happy,” she offered.

“Hey,” he said. “About this morning... I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I am so sorry. Please forgive me?”

“I don't understand the correlation between a restaurant and this that you are saying now, but I understand that you did not intend to hurt me. I just... I could not help myself, I could smell your sexual presence and I acted as my urges dictated.”

“Oh, baby, believe me, it was wonderful. I have not had such a glorious wakeup call in my life! You can do that whenever you want.”

“Will you make my nose burn again, and then laugh at me if I do?” she asked, again uncertain, her utter sincerity making him laugh even more.

“No, baby. I won't. Just make sure you swallow when I come next time,” he replied.

“I guess I did not expect you to come when you did,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“It's all right, we have plenty of mornings to look forward to figuring it out. So how about breakfast?”

“Can I have sex with you first?” Desiree asked, looking up at him innocently, unconsciously biting her lower lip again. She looked so adorable when she did that. He just could not resist a kiss.

“How do you want me?”, he asked after they tasted eachother

She smiled and made a cute little squeal of glee, and then immediately turned to the chair at the breakfast table, bent herself over it, spread her legs and presented herself to him. It was too much for him. He was hard before she finished settling in. When she flashed him an inviting “please come fuck me” look, he immediately obliged.

Hovering behind her, he caressed her hips, ass and thighs. The smooth curvature was so sweet a sensation in his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to lose his entire awareness to the feeling of it. It was amazing, as was the insistence of his erection to be inside her. She arched her back down so that her ass stuck out more, and her hips tilted up to give him a better view of, and access to, her hidden treasure. The smell of her sex filled his nostrils. He opened his eyes, drinking the sight of her, and then slid his hands down between her legs, and then started back up, slowly caressing her inner thighs and softly pulsing femalia. Her sex was wet between her inner lips already, meaning she was well and truly aroused. This was already obvious to him by the scent that filled his nostrils.

Even angled as she was, with legs spread wide, her fat pussy lips did not separate. He loved that about her. Johnathan spread her beautiful puffy pink outer lips and slid a single finger lightly over her clitoris, which made her shudder with pleasure. Then he continued down into the cleft that formed behind it, between those adorable little inner lips, leading to her depths. Her slick readiness and smooth, perfect pinkness made his cock seem to groan in frenzied desperation, but he was enjoying his self-orchestrated teasing. He slid his finger down along that wet valley of hers slowly, feeling it grow slightly deeper with each millimeter his finger traveled, and slightly wetter, until he suddenly found his finger at the edge of her well of pleasue. She begged, desperately wanting that he should put it in her. In response, he did just that – slowly, sliding his middle finger into her amazingly hot pussy. As thin as his finger was, her sheath hugged it almost hungrily, and seemed to twitch in its involuntary response. 

Johnathan marveled at her heat. This woman produced so much heat from her sex when she was aroused that it was like fire heated her depths. He loved it. Sliding his finger in and out of her slowly, watching and enjoying her head fall limp in her pleasure, he listened to her moans and mews, and massaged the inside of her with his finger. He paid special attention to the little knot of muscle that was her G-spot. As his finger passed over it, she sighed in pleasure and each time thereafter that he did it, her sigh took on a more and more insistent feel. Soon, she was mewing and moaning in rhythmic time to his motions, and his cock was straining with increasing jealousy of his fingers. 

Her legs slowly spread apart more, seemingly without her realizing it, as she grew closer and closer to her approaching orgasm. Johnathan realized that one of his hands was doing nothing, and so he saddled up behind her, reached around, and began stroking her clitoris at the same time. It wasn't a comfortable position for him, but Desiree half groaned and half shrieked in pleasure as a response, and after just a few seconds of this, she turned her head back and gasped out her desire for him to be inside her.

“Please... please... I need you in me....” she gasped. With that plea, Johnathan could no longer deny her, or himself. Withdrawing his finger from her, he used his hands to find her entrance, and guided himself to it.

At the touch of their sex organs, her head dropped again as she moaned her pleasure. He felt a crazy, lustful tingling sensation flash over him, and he knew it was over for him. He had to have her. With a single movement, he slid himself into her waiting warmth, and she immediately obliged him by having a shuddering orgasm that shook her as though she was experiencing her own private earthquake. She tried to resist it, lost in the bliss of it, making no sound for a moment. Finally it was too much and she threw her head back and let the pleasure burst from her throat.

She cried out, her vagina twitching and spasming powerfully. Between her movements and her sounds, he was only on his second thrust when she forced him over the edge and into his own orgasm.

His groaning cry tore from his throat as he found release deep within her. He slumped forward, holding her around the waist, his heartbeat thumping powerfully in time with hers for a while. Johnathan's chest rested against her back, and he hugged her as they caught their breaths. His penis still twitching, he kissed her shoulders, reveling in the intimacy they had managed to achieve so quickly and easily.

“Wow,” he said, slowly sliding out of her after he'd stood up again. “You are one hot woman.”

“I'm sorry, Johnathan. I cannot help how heated my vagina becomes when you are near me. Perha-”

“Hey, silly!” he said, laughing again. “I meant 'hot' as in 'sexy'! I love how 'heated your vagina becomes' when I am near you.” His broad smile reassured her, and she hugged him. 




The Girl Ch. 4



“If you are sure it does not displease you,” came her slightly uncertain half question.

“No, silly. It thrills me. I have never had such a wonderful lover before.”

After they showered and got dressed, they were off. Johnathan drove, because his license and insurance were for him alone, although he was fairly certain Desiree had been programmed with knowledge of how to drive in case of emergency.

He started up his old car. It was an old maroon Nissan Sentra XE he'd found for a couple grand in the early part of the century. Somehow it had simply never died. His mechanic was constantly amazed. Johnathan always said it was because he had such an amazingly good mechanic.

They drove off, looking for breakfast.

Johnathan had no idea where to go at first. 

“So what sort of restaurant would you like to go to?” he asked. Desiree of course, had not a clue.

“What kind of restaurant is there?” she asked.

“Well, we have all kinds of food choices. American, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Italian... oh, wait, this is for breakfast, isn't it? Let's go to IHOP then.”

“Eye hop?” she asked quizzically. “What is 'eye hop'?”

“IHOP is the International House of Pancakes. 'IHOP' is what you get when you make a word out of only the first letters of all the words that make up the full name.”

“Ah. An acronym. I see. I-H-O-P.”

“Yes, IHOP, not 'eye hop',” he laughed.

Desiree was looking at everything as they drove. 

“What is lick-you-or?” she asked. 

“What is wha-?” he said, looking over. “Oh, liquor. Liquor is an alcoholic drink of various types.” The look on her face told him the definition made no sense. “You don't know what alcohol is for, do you?”

“Alcohol is for disinfecting topical wounds. It also can be used as a mild refrigerant, due to its rapid evaporative properties. It is not to be ingested, as it may cause blindness, or death.” Desiree paused for a moment, and then asked, “Why do you tell me that liquor is a drink made of alcohol, Johnathan? Was my programming done in error?”

“No, sweet. There are two – actually more than two – types of alcohol. One is the type you refer to. That's called 'rubbing alcohol'. There is another kind which you drink, and that's called 'grain alcohol' usually, although it can be made from other things besides grains.”

“So you can make alcohol from grain and from rubbing? I do not understand. How do you make alcohol from grain and rubbing? Do we make alcohol when we rub together? I have not sensed any alcohol when we touch.”

Johnathan had to laugh again.

“I am amusing in my questions, Johnathan?” she asked, even more confused.

“Yes, lover. Don't you ever change. I love how you enjoy learning. That I laugh only means you have brought me pleasure in some way.”

“Oh, then it is good that you laugh.” She managed a small, self-satisfied smile.

“Yes. Your desire to learn brings me pleasure in more than one way.”

“But how do you make alcohol from grain and rubbing?” she asked a second time.

“Well, love, you make alcohol from grain by fermenting it in a specific way. But you cannot make alcohol by rubbing. Rubbing alcohol is called that because you rub it on. Surely this cannot interest you very much?”

“It is fascinating, Johnathan. I feel pleasure when you teach me things.”

Breakfast at IHOP was a pleasant experience for them both, with her asking questions and him answering as best he could. Afterward, he decided to take her to the mall.

“What is a mall?” she asked, predictably.

“It is a large building with various types of stores in it.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “It would afford for an opportunity to cater to the customer in several ways, including avoidance of temperature extremes and weather.”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “There's that, and the convenience of the stores all being close together.”

When they arrived and parked, he asked what sort of stores she would like to visit.

“Is there a grow-ling store?” she timidly asked.

Instantly, he was filled with apprehension. Should he have brought her here? Was this a good idea?

“Yes, there's a grow-ling store, love,.”, he replied, unable to lie to her. “It's where I... placed my order for you.” Somehow that sounded bad to him. It felt bad, too. On the one hand, he loved her dearly, and she was the light of his life. On the other hand, maybe this wasn't much different than slavery?

“I want to go there, then,” she said, oblivious to his obvious feelings of guilt.

“What about the bookstore, or the music store, or the game shop? How about the clothing stores?” he asked, trying to shake it off.

“I want to go to the grow-ling store.”

“Er, ok,” he replied. “What do you want to do there?”

“Get a checkup, of course.”

“A checkup?” he asked, surprised. “You've only been with me a day or so! You don't need a checkup!”

“I feel the desire to go to the grow-ling store and get a checkup, Johnathan. Please let me. It cannot be a bad thing for me to be interested in my health, can it? I want to be healthy for you, just as I want you to be healthy for me.”

“OK,” Johnathan said. “When you put it like that,”

Into the mall they went, past the optometrist and the dentist and the pretzel shop, past the mall help desk, the candy store, the antiques shop, the wicker and rattan furniture store, and others. Desiree seemed to instinctively know where the grow-ling shop was, and actually led Johnathan to it. It wasn't a big shop, mostly empty space, a few white lab-coated technicians and a series of example grow-lings to interact with. Johnathan worried what Desiree might think.

She walked right in and up to a technician. Then she said, “Grow-ling, Paragon Enterprises model 1733-20WFS, serial number P-00098-F6J3 presenting for checkup.” Immediately, she went into the anatomical pose – staring straight ahead, arms slightly out from the body, palms forward, legs shoulder width apart. She did not move at all.

Desiree had chosen an attractive young black woman of medium height and average build. Like the other technicians, she wore a clean white lab coat.

“Hello there, my name is Lorinda.” she said to Johnathan. “I see you have your grow-ling with you. Here for a checkup, sir?”

“Hi, I'm Johnathan Mazrick. We were going to wander the mall, but Desiree here seemed insistent on coming here.”

“Let me look up your file,” said Lorinda. She pulled something out of a lab coat pocket and put it on her right forefinger. It looked like a wide white ceramic ring, but it only fit over the first joint of her index finger. She pressed it against the left side of Desiree's neck for a moment. Then it beeped and began to speak in an odd gender-neutral voice.

“Paragon Enterprises grow-ling, model 1733-20WFS, serial number P-00098-F6J3 – authenticated.

“Reading biodata... reading... reading... reading... done. Would you like an audio report?”

“Yes,” said Lorinda.

“Reporting on Paragon Enterprises grow-ling, model 1733-20WFS, serial number P-00098-F6J3. No unauthorized modifications detected. Register B is reporting abnormally high levels of psychotronic activity. Levels exceed upper bounds for measurements. Grow-ling is a Psion. Register S is reporting active calibration ongoing and unfinished. Register E is reporting active calibration ongoing and unfinished. Register M is reporting active calibration ongoing and unfinished. Register P has been calibrated successfully.

“Grow-ling P-00098-F6J3 has been aware and active for 33 hours, 21 minutes. Actual chronological age is 2 weeks, 3 days, 13 hours, 36 minutes. Checking interface consistency... all bio-mnemonic interfaces are consistent. Scanning core systems... System N is reporting abnormal sensitivity. Resolving power is 6,421 percent of normal for subsystems N-S and N-E. System E is projection-capable. All other systems report normal tolerances, with an error of plus or minus one nanovar.”

There was silence for a moment. The other technicians had come over to listen, as well.

“What did that all mean? Is she all right?” asked Johnathan.

“Wow,” replied Lorinda. “I'd say she's better than all right. She's a multichannel Psion!”

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked. This time it was a geeky looking white guy in a lab coat and coke bottle glasses who answered in a nasal of voice.

“It means your grow-ling is capable of several types of psychic activity. She's also capable of healing by touch. This is the first time I have ever heard of such a thing. I suggest a full spectrum diagnostic. Psionic centers only.” Lorinda took the suggestion, and gave the ceramic looking device the command.

The ring-like device responded immediately.

“Psionic centers active. Eighty-nine percent are open and reporting. Active psionic disciplines detected include: Empathic reception, at eighty-nine percent of capacity. Empathic projection, at eighty-seven percent of capacity. Telepathic reception, at twenty-one percent of capacity. Telepathic projection, at seven percent of capacity. Telekinetic projection, at two percent of capacity. Temporal dysplasic awareness, at one percent of capacity. Projective awareness nullification, at sixty-six percent of capacity. Psychometric reception, at sixty-four percent of capacity. Psychometric -”

“Holy hell!” exclaimed the geeky man, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be a professional. “She's got it in spades!”

Another man in a lab coat came forward, and said, “Remember they said that the redheaded ones were more likely to have it?”

Lorinda spoke up.

“Mister Mazrick, it appears your grow-ling is a bit unusual. She displays psychic ability beyond anything we have seen in a grow-ling before. The reason we're excited is because we have been doing research into what causes psychic ability in grow-lings, hoping to find a way to someday be able to induce it in a controlled manner in humans. Would you mind terribly if we did some work with Desiree?”

“What kind of work?” he asked, a bit nervous.

“Well, we'd like to make a note of what sequences we used to construct her, and give her some tests. Here, let's go into the lab entrance in the back, where we can all sit down. Desiree, you can relax now.” Desiree relaxed and assumed a normal stance. They all went in the back.

The lab entrance was lit by fluorescent light, with a few white coats hanging near the first door. There was a second door across the room, as well as some lockers and a table and some chairs. Various things on the table told Johnathan that this was a break room.

Please, sit down, both of you,” said Lorinda, as she pulled out a chair for herself and sat down. Johnathan pulled out a seat for Desiree and then sat down himself. Lorinda continued.

“You see, we have noted, in the years we have spent creating grow-lings, that we are learning a lot of things about ourselves as humans by what happens when we create them. At first, we determined that psychic ability was science fact through these wonderful creations, but we could almost never find one who had the gift strongly enough to measure well, and who also survived the growing process to the end.

“If we can determine what it is that let Desiree become so psychic and survive the growing process, we could figure out how to alter the human genetic program to unlock the psychic ability in all of us. Imagine the potentials! We could know things before they happened, perhaps; or master telepathic communication; or find ways to heal with psychic touch!”

“I healed Johnathan this morning,” said Desiree. “He burned his arm with hot grease while cooking.”

“Simply astounding,” said Lorinda. “As you can see, this has great potential for helping all of mankind. If you agree, we could do some tests and see if we can learn anything further from her. Let me tell you a little more about the preliminary tests we'd be doing.

“First, we would put her through a battery of tests that simply read her responses. Stuff like temperature, blink rate, breathing rate, heart rate, and so on.

“Then, we'd ask her a series of questions and map what sections of her brain fired. Based on the responses to these tests, we could tell if further tests would reveal more information about her psychic ability.

“The tests are all harmless, of course. Even the second and third stages are. We would never think of harming your grow-ling, naturally, since she's bought and paid for – and company policy forbids it, since it's immoral.”

“Not to mention against international law,” Johnathan added.

“Precisely. However, Paragon Enterprises prides itself on pre-empting the law. We set our standards well above and beyond what the law requires of us. So you have nothing to worry about there. That's one of the reasons I came to work for Paragon, actually. If it's all right with you, I'd like to set an appointment for you to come back in when we are better prepared to do the testing we have in mind. Say next Monday?”

“She won't have to stay here, will she? I don't want her to be sent away or anything. She's quite sensitive emotionally, you know, and very attached to me.”

“Oh, believe me, Mister Mazrick, I know. She has bonded quite deeply with you by now, I'm sure. Growlings are genetically programmed to do that. By the results of her scan, I'd say this one's bonded much faster and more deeply than usual. But no, you can be with her the whole time, and she never has to go anywhere.”

“Well, in that case, if it's going to help as much as you say it will, I can do that. Monday?” he asked.

“Yes, we'll say Monday at noon, how's that?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Excellent,” said Lorinda. “Excellent.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

On the way home, Desiree asked questions. 

“What are they going to do with me? I don't understand what they're interested in,” she said.

“Well, remember how you healed me this morning?” Johnathan asked, taking a moment to enjoy her beautiful sapphire eyes, wavy red hair and freckled face. “Apparently, it's your ability to do things of that nature that interests them.”

“They want to study me so they can make real people able to do those things?”

“Real people?” said Johnathan, surprised. “Baby, you are a real person.”

“No, Johnathan. Remember? I'm just a grow-ling. Real people are born. Real people have belly buttons, remember? Like you do.” She reached over hand put her left hand over his shirt-covered belly button.

“Sweetheart, real people are people who have real feelings. Do you have real feelings?”

“Well, I... I feel... and I feel emotions... but how can I know if I have real feelings?”

Johnathan pulled into his driveway, and stopped the car. Then he turned to her and said, “Close your eyes.” She closed them, and he continued.

“You know when you are having real feelings because they make you act in ways you can't help. Like this...” he said, and then proceeded to give her a gentle, sensual kiss. Her lips were so soft and silky, he couldn't believe his good fortune in having come to be with this woman, grow-ling or not. She melted into his kiss, and moaned lightly as she kissed him back, eyes still closed.

“See? I never taught you how to respond to a kiss like that. Did anyone else?”

“No... not that I remember,” she said. He could see her face showing signs of a sex flush already. Johnathan loved that about pale -skinned redheads. They showed their arousal in interesting, sexy ways.

“You're so beautiful when your cheeks are flushed,” he said.

“Flushed? I have never been in a toilet before,” she responded, sincerely. It made him laugh. 

“Silly woman! I don't mean flushed as in flushing a toilet!” He grinned hugely. “I mean flushed as in, 'Your face is flushed.' In that sense of the word, it means your facial blood vessels have relaxed and more blood is getting through them. It makes your skin appear pink, or 'flushed' where it happens.”

“Oh. I think I understand. You can flush a toilet and you can flush your face. But flushing your face involves turning pink, and flushing your toilet involves removing excrement. Why must there be so much confusion with this language?” she asked, slightly vexed.

Johnathan laughed again, good naturedly. 

“That's just the way English is, it's a strange language, but I kinda like it,.” he replied as he winked at her.

That evening, she was watching TV for the first time in her life, and was quite absorbed in it. Johnathan casually sat down next to her and when he noted the level of her engrossment, he asked, “So what will I prepare for dinner tonight?”

Without thinking about it or taking her eyes off the TV, she answered.

“You're thinking about preparing beef tips in linguine with Marsala, but you're not sure if it should be beef tips or shrimp.” He was stunned. She was dead on accurate.

The television, he noticed, seemed to really draw her in. She got very lost in the television. She seemed to like watching sitcoms that he considered ridiculous. This, of course, was her first time watching TV, but she had proceeded to tune out almost everything with surprising ease. When he'd finally gotten through to her and gotten that answer, he'd been amazed. The television annoyed him a little, since it took up all her attention; but with her conscious mind out of the way, she was amazingly accurate psychically. He decided on Shrimp Marsala using linguine instead of angel hair pasta.

When it was ready, they ate their fill. Large, fresh shrimp, sautéed to perfection in a sauce of Marsala, salted butter and garlic, and then mixed with perfect al dente linguine, steaming hot. He preferred linguine, since it was more to his liking for its texture.

Desiree decided she loved pasta, but could do without the shrimp. Johnathan was astounded that anyone could refuse such fabulous shrimp. They were so fresh they were actually crisp! Somehow, beyond his comprehension, she didn't like them, so he ate her shrimp as well as his own. She, on the other hand, ate all her pasta and then what was left in the pot. He couldn't believe she could pack so much away.

It was wonderful to lay on his bed with her, stuffed. Her belly was so full that she looked slightly pregnant. It turned him on. She, on the other hand, had started getting aroused as soon as she saw the bed, and it wasn't long before she started to get up from lying there with him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm getting ready for you, Johnathan,” she said with a smile, as she got to her knees on the bed and started to remove her top. The top had a bra type thing built in, so when it came free, her lovely, pert breasts were standing proudly on their own. Desiree had such pale areolas that they were practically invisible. Her nipples were erect, and they were what he liked to think of as a sort of 'hungry pink', kind of a flushed version of their normal color. What would have been easily visible areola on another woman was only discernible on her because it was contracted with arousal around her nipples.

“Oh, what a wonderful view,” he breathed. “Even upside down,”

“I am not upside down, Johnathan. You are laying down funny.” He had his head in the direction she was, and she was facing the top of his head. This gave him an idea, and made him smile wickedly.

“Desiree, I want you to do something for me,.” he said.

“What shall I do for you, Johnathan?”

“I want you to stay right there, don't move, and close your eyes.”

“OK,” she said, charmingly trusting in his request. She closed her eyes and stood there, wearing only her skirt, standing on his bed on only her knees. He moved himself forward like an inchworm, using his shoulders and butt to squinch along until he had his face beneath her skirt. Here, the warmth of her sex was obvious, and it felt pleasant on his face. Too, her scent was likewise trapped, and was several times stronger than he was used to. He drank it into his lungs luxuriantly.




The Girl Ch. 4



“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You'll see in a second,” he responded. “Just don't open your eyes or move.”

“OK,” came her compliant reply.

It was heavily shadowed under her skirt, but her full pussy lips were still visible. God were they beautiful, he thought to himself. They came together and hid her inner secrets, showing only the slit where they could be separated. Carefully positioning his head, he let his tongue snake out and touch her outer pink at the top of that slit.

“Oh! Ohhhh,” she gasped, then moaned.

He applied a light pressure and slipped his tongue between those protective outer lips and into her world of secret pleasures. At the top, there was no flavor, but as he continued down, he began to taste her. It made him hard, very hard, and he had to pause to adjust himself.

A little ways down he encountered her pleasure point. He moved his tongue from side to side above it to separate her thick sex lips and get the room he needed to work on it. Then he set to work massaging her, back and forth, enjoying the sensation of the most sensitive spot on her body sliding over his tongue again and again.

Each time his tongue grazed her clit in a certain way, her whole body shuddered. As he realized this, he also started seeking ways to minimize the time between those shudders. His efforts went to good effect, and soon she was shuddering and gasping and making little cries of pleasure that she could not control.

He continued, eyes closed. He was enjoying himself thoroughly. Opening his eyes, he saw that her pussy was beginning to show some wetness. Moving himself just a little bit further back, he was able to lap it up, and then plunge his tongue into her. Idly, as his tongue continued to explore her sheath, he wondered why the erotic stories he'd always read described a woman as tasting sweet. The women he had been with had never tasted sweet as sugar did, or even sweet as was sometimes used to describe the taste of butter or even seafood. Desiree, easily the most delicious woman he'd ever had, tasted and smelled a lot like the ocean. 'It must be her pheromones that make me think she tastes and smells so good,' he thought. 'I could eat her pussy forever.' Her soft moans of delight punctuated his thoughts as though she were narrating them with her approval.

Johnathan shifted forward a bit and continued to work her clit with his tongue, seeking always to achieve more effective stimulation. She trembled and quaked, and moaned and groaned with the bliss of it. But she seemed to be talking a long time to achieve orgasm. He began to wonder why.

Desiree loved these delightful surprises Johnathangave her, like sliding up under her skirt and licking her sexual opening. It felt so good, she had a hard time keeping her legs from giving out, but he had instructed her to stay up on her knees and not open her eyes. Sitting down was not an option.

He had slipped his tongue between her pouty pink outer lips and found his way to her clit with ease. It was obvious to her that he enjoyed himself immensely when he captivated her this way. She was lost in her passion.

She'd been resisting the pleasure, and it had in turn been forcing her to feel good. It was a kind of game, one that she secretly enjoyed very much. To be firmly forced to experience more and more pleasure, despite her resistance, only made it feel better and better. The more effort she put into resisting, the more it pushed her on to new heights of ecstasy. Soon her entire body was abuzz with the tension this was building in her - that tension that had begun in her pleasure bud, spread into her entire vulva, and then filled her hips. From there, it had found its way down her legs and up into her chest at the same time, and finally coursed through her entire body. 

There could not be much more resistance from her at that point. The pleasure was all through her, lapping at her every nerve, loosening her grip on her control with each wave and shudder. She fought hard to retain her grip, hoping, praying in the back of her mind that this insane pleasure would not stop; that instead, it would overtake her most valiant efforts to beat it down. That it would drown her in itself completely, totally, utterly, and give her the release it hinted at.

She was shaking now, her entire body shaking uncontrollably with it, and she began to lose her grip. She felt the fingers of her control begin to release, first her pinkies slipping, then her ring fingers, and then...

She had been fighting his efforts, he realized, fighting it the way he tried to fight orgasm when he masturbated. Resisting made it stronger, prolonged it, and caused it to overwhelm him entirely when he finally lost control. It took a long time to get her to this point. His tongue was almost dead with exhaustion. He kept going though, realizing what she was trying to do, realizing that her body was slowly but surely building up to a tidal wave of climax, knowing that this was sure to be the best orgasm she'd ever had. Her moans and groans had gone from short to long and drawn out guttural sounds, from gasps and mews and then to silent trembles that became shudders and then shakes. Then she went still, her head fell back, and he knew she was on the brink. All he had to do now was maintain it for a few more seconds.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she opened her mouth and released a primal scream that filled every room in the house. It was more than she could bear, and she was swept away in a madness of pleasure that erased her from herself and gushed from her in ways she had never experienced before. It completely overwhelmed her. When the scream had emptied her lungs, she could only spasm with the hurricane of awesome sensation. When she could draw a breath again, her sobs mixed with manic laughter, which sounded quite insane. A moment later, having never opened her eyes, she fell over unconscious.

She'd fallen face first onto him, and now he was looking at the skirt that he'd been hiding his face under just a moment before. He almost had an up-skirt view, but not quite. It was sexy nonetheless, seeing her legs lead to her skirt, clinging to her curvy ass... what an ass.

It was then that he realized what he had done. He had just loved her into unconsciousness with only his tongue. He had just caused a woman to come so powerfully that she had passed out! Incredible! It made him feel proud to know he could do that to her.

The warmth of her body was nice, and he certainly enjoyed the view. He started to caress her backside. All this, and she'd only been with him for a few days. What was the rest of his life going to be like with this woman? At this rate, would he survive the week?

Then his thoughts shifted to what the Paragon technician had said this afternoon. His grow-ling was very, very special (as though he needed her to tell him that), and there was a chance that she would change the entire world! He would be so proud of her if she had a hand in changing the world. She would become famous, and maybe he would become rich. Nah. Rich he didn't need. Famous he didn't need either, but it would be interesting. Of course, he'd probably only get famous because he was her owner. The thought of riding on her coat tails didn't much interest him.

There came the sound of his grow-ling breathing steadily in her sleep. 'What a weird position to fall asleep in,' he thought. Looking over at his alarm clock, he saw that their lovemaking had taken almost forty-five minutes. He estimated that he'd licked and tongue fucked her for close to forty. No wonder he felt like he'd been running a marathon with his tongue! He had! 'But,' he thought, patting her cute ass, 'it's all been worth it.'

The position was not going to let him sleep, so he gently rolled her off of him, put a pillow under her head, and wrapped the comforter around her where she lay. She looked a bit odd with her feet at the headboard and pillows at the foot of the bed, but he knew she couldn't have cared less right now. Likely she was more comfortable than she had ever been her entire life.

It was almost dark. He smiled at her, then pulled the pillow from her side of the bed and put it on his side. He was about to climb under the sheets when he remembered his pussy scented face, and he wandered into the bathroom to take a shower. 'Oh what a day,' he thought. She just kept getting better and better.

~-~-~-~-

Chapter 5 is on its way. Please remember to vote!



The Girl Ch. 5



Please make sure you have read all of the previous four chapters of The Girl before reading this one. It will be a much more rewarding experience if you do.





The Girl Ch. 5



Then he fell forward onto her back, after he had come back, and she collapsed forward, causing him to disengage involuntarily as he fell with her.

"Oof," she said when his weight hit her. Her hands were at her sides.

"That was very strange," she said after a moment.

"What was?" He asked. He could tell his legs had born the brunt of the orgasmic muscle contractions, and he knew he would have difficulty walking for a while.

"That orgasm," she said. "It felt... different. More intense than usual. More focused... and I came so fast!"

"You know, that's odd, because my first orgasm was strange too, only it felt less focused and not as intense as usual," he said, contemplatively.

"What does it mean?", she asked,

"I'm not sure. We both had orgasms simultaneously, though... and we did it twice in a row... we never did that before."

"Maybe you felt my orgasm and I felt yours," she offered.

"But... that's not possible," he replied. He was confused.

"There's a way we could see," said Desiree.

"What's that?"

"Well, if one of us was to achieve orgasm without sex, and the other felt it, then we'd know."

"I suppose," he said. "How about you make yourself come, then? Multiple orgasms are a woman's prerogative, but not so easy for a man."

"OK," she replied. "Let me turn over so I can do it,"

Johnathan rolled off of her. Their slightly sweaty bodies made a sound as they came apart. He lay next to her regaining his breath, and waiting for his legs to recover. She spread her legs a little, putting her bent right knee over his left hip in the process, and reached down to touch herself. To her surprise, she was much less sensitive than she had expected to be after her last orgasm. She slipped her middle finger into herself, and then slid it back up to her clit, which she began to rub softly in tight circles. Her body began to respond at once.

It only took her a few minutes to achieve her goal, and it poured down through her as if someone had dumped a five gallon bucket of the sensation on her hips. Johnathan gasped.

"I felt it!" he cried. "Holy shit, I felt your orgasm!"

She smiled and drifted back to normal.

"So we just experienced each others' orgasms," he continued. "Holy shit!"

"Johnathan, I know you are surprised, but what is 'shit'?"

"Oh, uh..." he laughed. "It's a slang expression that... uh... well, it's kind of hard to explain. Just don't say that word to anyone, OK? In the wrong usage it can be very offensive to people."

"OK, but I still am curious about what it is," she said. "I know what 'holy' is, even though the definition for 'holy' seems to make little sense on it's own. 'Holy' is defined as being separated from the mundane world by dedication to the praise or worship of God, but I do not understand what God is either. If shit is holy, and I understand what praise and worship mean, then God must be someone or something very special, and shit must be a good thing. Yet you say it can be offensive. I do not understand."

"Woman, how can you be so technical after what we just discovered?!" Johnathan said somewhat incredulously. "We just felt one another's orgasms! That last one I felt much less strongly than I did when I was inside you, but I felt it regardless,"

"Are feelings supposed to be confined to only the self?" she asked.

"Well, mostly, yeah... I mean, if I was sitting a few feet away from you and there was a sound proof concrete wall between us, and you were crying because someone died, I would expect to have no idea that you were upset. If I was in the same room, I might start to feel bad because I could see you and hear you, but that's not feeling your emotions, that's responding to something."

"I am confused," she said. "I wish to understand what 'shit', 'God' and 'died' are. I have no definitions for these."

"Oh boy. I opened up a can of worms this time," he said.

"You did? When? I did not see you do that,"

He laughed. She smiled, remembering that he had told her that his laughter meant she had pleased him with her desire to learn.

"Opening up a can of worms is a slang expression that means things are getting complicated."

"OK, so you made things complicated by mentioning shit, died and God?" she asked.

"Yes, most definitely. Strange that they would give you the knowledge of what 'holy' means without defining God. I guess it was just too complicated for them to bother with," he said.

"So God is, in part of it's definition, complex. I understand. What else?"

"Well, God is different things to different people," he began. He turned and looked at his alarm clock: 4:47 A.M. Great. Late night philosophy with Johnathan Mazrick, he thought. I'll never get back to sleep now.

"That doesn't make sense, Johnathan. How can God be different things to different people?"

"See the alarm clock?" he asked. She nodded. "What color are those lighted numbers on it?"

"They're... red," she said.

"But the red you see, and the red I see, while they are both red, are not the same red."

"How is that possible?!" she exclaimed.

"Because your eyes and my eyes are slightly different. And God is different things to different people for the same reason,"

"So God will look a different color to you than it will to me?"

He laughed again, and she was encouraged.

"Not quite, love. God is not visible."

"That makes no sense! How can God look different to each of us if it can't be seen?" she lamented.

"Well, first of all, God is not a thing. God is... hmmm," he said, thinking about how to explain this. "To me, God is the living love that created everything there is."

"Now I understand, because you cannot see love!" she said triumphantly. "But everything was created by God, and God is love?"

"First of all, Desiree, you're trying to understand something with logic alone that cannot be comprehended with logic. I told you, this is complex."

"How can there be things that cannot he comprehended with logic, Johnathan?"

"How can there be any such thing as a monopole? All things come in pairs of opposites, have you noticed that? There is light, and darkness. Up and down. Left and right. Cold and hot. Male and female. Wet and dry. And the list goes on and on."

"So a monopole would be one without the other? Like wetness without dryness?" she asked.

"Right. And monopoles are very unusual. God may be the only monopole in existence, but we don't know. Some say even God has his opposite."

"So you're saying that logic is one part of a pair? What is the opposite of logic?", she asked.

"Emotion, of course!" he said.

"Oh, I see now. There is no way to describe the way you make me feel with colors and shapes and dimensions, and that is an emotion!"

"Exactly!" he said, pleased at her progress.

"So since God is love, God cannot be understood with logic and cannot be described quantitatively, either. You referred to God as being a 'him'. How can God be love and be a 'him' at the same time, if love is an emotion?"

"Well you're forgetting something, first of all, Desiree," he said. "I told you that, to me, God is love and the source of all things. But remember that to different people, God is something different. Each person comes to understand what God is through their own personal experiences and through their understanding of what everyone else thinks. To my grandmother, God was an old man with a long gray beard who acted as a stern father figure, and he sat on his throne in heaven."

"This is very confusing, Johnathan. Your grandmother saw God being an old man? How can a feeling be a man? And where is 'heaven'?" she asked.

"Well, like I said, each person comes to understand what God is because of their experiences and how they understand other people's interpretations of God. She had been taught that he was an old man who lived in heaven and watched everything she did. I don't believe that God can be confined to the image of a body like I have because God is, in my understanding, too vast and too great in scope. So, for me, it makes more sense that God would exist as the energy representation of the highest of positive energies, which I believe is love. And heaven is a place that cannot be located in a physical sense, because it is not physical."

"If it is not physical," she responded, "then it cannot be a place, either."

"You're trying to understand using logic. Heaven is the figurative 'where' in which God exists. Can you tell me where your feelings are in your body?"

"I feel them... here," she said, putting her hand on her chest.

OK, now imagine the universe as a body, and imagine that heaven is there for that body. That's about the best way I can think of to describe where heaven is," he said. "Personally, I think heaven exists everywhere and nowhere because I think of heaven as more a state of mind than a place."

"A state of mind? I get it! When I feel my love for you, I am experiencing God and heaven, because of how it makes me feel!" she cried out in triumph. Johnathan was overcome with pride in his grow-ling for comprehending that.

"That's about how I would put it, love. You make me so proud understanding that. So few born people ever understand that. If they did, perhaps we would have less hate and violence in the world."

"So there are people who – wait, would hate be the opposite of love?" she asked, excitedly. It was plainly evident that feeding her hunger for knowledge and understanding was exciting her.

"Well, you'd think so at first glance, wouldn't you? But I think it's actually fear that is the opposite of love."

"I don't understand," she said. "How can that be?"

"Well, fear is what makes people hate, I think. Fear leads to several other negative emotions, such as depression, anger, prejudice and hate, depending on how it's experienced and expressed. There are people who would disagree with me, just like lost of people adamantly would insist that my concept of God is wrong. But, for me, these answers are what makes sense as answers to those questions."

"Can I disagree with you?" she asked tentatively.

"You sure can. If you don't agree with how I see things, you're welcome to come to your own conclusions. I would enjoy discussing it with you if you did see things differently than me at some point," replied Johnathan.

"But what if I'm wrong?" she asked.

"Being wrong is not always possible, or bad. For instance, nobody can prove that my concept of God is wrong, because we have no way of proving what God is, or even if God exists. There have been books written about what and who God is, but they were all written by people, and people will always cone to their own conclusion about what God is because each of us has a unique experience in life, and therefore a unique understanding of each thing, just like the red you see is not the same one I see. So technically, even though there are people out there who insist that my ideas about God are dead wrong, and they have different versions of ideas about what God is, neither of us can be wrong because we each experience God in our own unique way, based on our awareness of the world around us and how we have come to understand everything through our experiences in life."

"Wow, Johnathan, you know so much! Will I ever get to meet other people and ask them about God?" she asked.

"There is a time for all things, love. But you aren't ready for that just yet. You must understand more before you can begin to interact with others on such complex topics and not risk getting hurt. Human ways are very complex, and there are many more questions I must answer for you before you can understand enough to be safe."

"OK," she smiled. "So what is 'shit' and 'died'?"

Johnathan groaned.

"How about I explain those later? Just remember that 'shit' is not a word you are allowed to say without my permission. You can get into a lot of trouble if you don't understand how people use that word."

He was not looking forward to explaining death.





The Girl Ch. 5



"That reminds me, I have been authorized to reimburse you for the time you spend helping us, Mister Mazrick. George – the President of our company's name is George Woodruff – has told me that I should reimburse you at the rate of twenty-thousand credits a day for each day we are interacting with Desiree." The smile he had on his face now showed that he was proud of the amount he was offering.

"Twenty thousand credits a DAY?! That's almost a six month salary for most people!" cried Johnathan. "You certainly must be interested in her,"

"Oh, indeed we are," said Woolsey. "She could be the missing link that lets us finally break the psionic barrier! Can you imagine what they consequences of that would be? We'd be able to do things we cannot even begin to imagine! And if we do crack it, there's a reward for your cooperation."

"What's that?" asked Johnathan.

"How about ten million credits?" said Woolsey, with a huge grin.

"Ten million! I could live on that for the rest of my life!"

"Indeed, Mister Mazrick, you could probably live on that for two lifetimes, in the right parts of the world. But, obviously, we are not about to let you go un-compensated for your help in this world changing endeavor. We also will be making you and Desiree famous, naturally, since this would be the news of the century!"

It was amazing... money, fame, and the perfect companion. What more could he ask for?

"Well, as long as Desiree is comfortable with all this, I have no problems. Provided she is never harmed, of course." said Johnathan. Desiree's thumbnail bit deeper into his hand. He looked at her and pulled away, in pain. She had a sad look in her eyes.

"It's OK, Desiree. I'll be there with you. And they can't possibly get away with anything if there are members of the Worldwide Privacy Assurance Commission on staff. You'll be perfectly safe."

"OK, Johnathan. I trust you." She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder, tears forming silently in her closed eyes. He put his arms around her.

"Awww, look at that," said Lorinda, smiling. "She really has bonded with you. It's always such a beautiful thing."