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Call Me Lisa

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Present Day

“Huh…” Sarah hummed thoughtfully to herself as she worked, standing before a bathroom mirror in a seedy motel room. Dusty, somewhat threadbare, purse of makeup to one side of her, perched on the lip of the sink and full of the very basics—Mascara, blush, eyeliner… and the slightest touch of shadowing to bring out the color in her bottle-green eyes. It was amazing what such simple things could do, in the right hands—as she got ready for the night. “Ponytail, sidetail, or loose?”

Hair 'medium' length by North American cultural standards, loose hair associated with promiscuity, freedom; loose hair will get better treatment, mystery appreciated, hide portion of face with hair, hide left portion of face with hair. 

“Loose it is then.” She said, dropping the scrunchy in her hand back into its side-pocket and zipping it up tight. It was the only one she had these days; the one she’d had on her head when she left home; it had… sentimental value, and had become a nearly essential part of her kit over the last month or two. She doubted she’d have gotten so far, so quickly without it.

Some people needed a little bit extra. More than just a pretty face and a rocking body—Which Sarah liked to think she had… and from the way other people sometimes stared when she walked by, it wasn’t just her—A hint of atmosphere, nostalgia; suppressed desire brought out by a walk, a certain way of talking, how you dressed... or even how you did your hair. It had become a life skill at this point.

necessary skill at that. Extremely so, when it was possibly the only thing between you and your next meal; the roof over your head, a bit of change in your pocket, the next few miles to the nearest bus stop and the change of clothes you oh so desperately needed—Whether she needed them before or after the night was done didn’t really matter. Clothes were asked for. Always—all of those things were obtainable, all at once, as long as you knew how to get them. How to negotiate.

And, if there was anything Sarah knew how to do these days, it was how to... negotiate.

Sarah tilted her head, smiling; fingers laid against the base of her neck as she double checked her makeup; relying on her sense of female intuition and applied bullshit to catch anything she missed—As good as can be expected without additional supplies, requires toner—before nodding to herself; feeling silly, as she gave the her in the mirror a wink and slung her bag over a shoulder.

Sarah Livesey, professional call girl—if only because Sarah Livesey, professional travel whore didn’t quite have the same ring to it—was ready to go.

She laughed to herself as she stepped out the door, handing the keys to the room over to one of the fine people she’d be traveling with for a while—Trevor, she thought it was. He was nice, a real gentleman… and still a virgin, poor thing—so that he could return the keys and pay her bill while she waited in the van… and on the bed that came with it; preening under the attention Trevor’s friend, Tracy was inadvertently showering her with as he looked at her in the rear view mirror.

If only her parents could see her now.

A suggestive lick of the lips and a popped upper button on her blouse at just the right time had Trevor stumbling; Sarah laughing quietly as he caught himself on the doorway to the motel’s checkout.

They would be so proud.

----------

Five months before Present Day

“Oh, shit.” Sarah whispered to herself as she ran her card—Her father’s card. Same difference. She was the one who had made that money after all—through the ATM’s card reader again. Then again and again, only to get the same response she’d received the first time. “No, no, no, no, no!”

The card had been canceled. In the less than six hours since she’d left home, straight after lunch with a fully loaded pack and a few loose bills—enough for her to get somewhere. Somewhere that wasn’t there—and somehow, someone had noticed she had left. She’d avoided the cameras, slipped past the guards, coordinated her escape plan to fit perfectly with her parent’s schedules, ensuring that they wouldn’t see each other for at least a week; an event that wasn’t exactly uncommon in their household… and yet, someone had still noticed something.

“The one time they pay attention to me, huh?” Sarah exhaled deeply through her nose, hand over her pursed lips as she tried not to scream; useless plastic falling from her fingers and into a puddle of what she hoped was urine, if only for the symbolism involved in having her father’s name soaked in piss. “Of course this is how it happens.”

Her plan was ruined. The plan she’d gone over repeatedly, day after day; constantly tweaking and poking; analyzing risks and possible gains with her power until it felt like her head was going to split open… and this was how it ended? Three hundred miles away from what used to be her home, with barely enough cash to get her by for the week in a shitty hotel, with expenses... and two changes of clothes; everything gone up in smoke because someone had actually paid attention for once in their lives.

That… wasn’t the outcome she’d expected, to say the least… but she could work around this. She wasn’t going back, obviously. She had no doubt that's what her parents expected her to do, now that she had no money—She should have just emptied the account in state, but no. She had to be smart about it—They expected her to walk into a store or something, and use a phone in the middle of the night to call them. To beg them to take her back… and that just wasn’t going to happen.

She didn’t know if she’d be able to escape again if she did.

Sarah perked up, a shiver running down her spine as she heard a not so faraway siren start up—Parents have reported card as stolen. Have described you as a ‘problem child’. Would be fine if you were to spend the night in a cell. Will never let you go again when they get you back—barely twenty feet away from her as she began to run; her head already starting to ache as her power ran loose—

Not therDoor is locAlley is a dead-emore police to thMight have been paid to

And it was being very unhelpful. Sarah wasn’t dumb. She could see that those things weren’t options or solutions, and that there were way too many cops looking for her, just one little runaway. The most she could do right now was slow them down or make some distance, hoping that something might come up as she ran… the problem was, eventually the only thing that was going to keep her running was fear. She hadn’t even made it around the corner of the bank she’d started at and she was already nearly out of breath; hands pumping up and down, her powers telling her that she wasn’t using the proper technique and was only wasting air… she’d never been much of a runner, and now that was coming back at her with a vengeance.

If she had the breath to talk at that moment, she’d have sworn that as soon as she got set up, she’d be getting a gym membership; do some cardio or something… or she’d be just plain swearing. A mix of both most likely, as the alley she’d gone through ended and she ran into a diner’s parking lot, then ducking around the front of, and then behind a truck, an eighteen-wheeler, to catch her breath with a choking gasp.

“Jesus, kid.” Instead of the startled scream she was going for, Sarah coughed, hacking up what felt like one of her lungs—but not really. Thankfully her power didn’t come with that ability—in surprise as a voice spoke from right over her head. “You were hauling ass out there. You okay?” Sarah shook her head, hands on her knees; her coughing easing off as she looked up; a heavily bearded, somewhat concerned face sticking out of the window of the truck she’d been hiding behind.

At her possible savior.

Concerned; concern is real, is wary of possible danger. Is about thirty-five to forty years of age; Does not expect you to be the danger due to old fashioned bent, has a shotgun under the seat for possible altercations. Is protective.

“I—” Sarah stood up, breathing still heavy as she took a couple steps away from the truck; hand over her mouth to catch her next cough as she got the room she needed to look at the trucker directly, instead of bending her neck at a ninety degree angle. “I’m not okay. I’m being chased,” Sarah whispered loudly, “Gang members or something I don’t know,” her heart skipped a beat for a moment—Angry; Has had run in with criminal elements before. Believes that forced prostitution was the goal. Can see why they might want you—as her hopes rose, “I-I was just looking around the country and stuff, doing the whole tourist thing, you know?” Sarah looked around quickly, nervously tightening the straps on her pack just in case she had to run again. “They chased me away from my rental car, and I need a ride away from here, like, now. Right now.”

“Fuck.” He moved his head, eyes narrowed as he looked around for himself. “How far do you need to go?”

“East. Out of town. At least to the next—”

“Whoa, whoa.” He held up his hands, eyes wide and noticeably bloodshot in the low light of a nearby street lamp—as Sarah felt something in her chest drop. “If you want me to take you to the police station or something—Regretful; Doesn’t expect anything to come from that. Has little faith in law enforcement. Offer was made due to reflex—or a friend I could do that for you. But going out of town? Right now? At this time of night? I just got in from a haul, girl. Trucking ain’t an easy job, and I’m tired as a motherfucker.”

“But—”

“Have you ever seen an eighteen-wheeler, roll over on an interstate, girl?” She winced, her power telling her that he’d seen something like that at least once, first hand. In detail. She swore she could taste the smoke. “I’m not leaving till I get at least six hours of sleep, a cup of coffee, and enough red-eye pills to choke a junkie.” His face softened, “But I can at least get you to a bus stop or something,” Sarah started to hyperventilate as she saw her chance slipping away; catching sight of a couple of cops at the corner of her eye that had yet to see them. “And I’ll stick around until it comes by. I can do that much.”

“I’ve got money.” Sarah pleaded, “I can give you a hundred, no, two hundred dollars to drive me out.” That was more than a third of what she had; the desperation she was feeling the only reason she was even offering that much. “I don’t feel safe around here, and I need to call some people before they try again!”

“I already said no, but I guess you didn’t understand me.” Sarah ground her teeth angrily at the implication, “Either we go to the bus stop, or you don’t get a ride at—”

“I’ll give you a handjob to let me hide in the cab!” Sarah hissed out; the trucker rearing back in surprise as she stomped towards him and climbed up onto the stairs leading up to the driver’s seat. She wasn’t really sure where that offer had come from, a movie probably—Something about the rules of the road—but she was already regretting what she had just said, even if it wasn’t nearly as much as she would regret being forced to go back home. She knew that much… even if the regret she was feeling right now was the most regret she’d ever felt in her life so far. “You can sleep, or meditate, or whatever the fuck it is you need to do! Hell, I’ll even give you another one in the morning as long as you get me the fuck out of here!”

“Goddamn, alright!” He backed away, the click of a lock opening coming right after. “Just… just go around the side, and get in. Fuck.”

“Thank you!” Dropping off the driver’s side of the truck, Sarah landed heavily on her feet, almost skidding on the gravel as she ran around the front, again, and up the already open passenger’s side. “Really, thank you so much!”

“Its no problem. Probably getting more out of this than you are.” He grumbled, thumb pointed towards the back and a closed curtain. “Cab is right there, you can figure out the rest.”

“Uh-huh.” Sarah ducked down, and slid the curtains to the side before stepping into… a surprisingly nice space. A twin bed at the back, a fridge in the corner; fully stocked bathroom to the side of a well kept and tidy room that, even without her powers telling her exactly how many times the bed had been used, she could see was well lived in. Maybe even loved, in a way, considering the tiny bookshelf doing triple duty as a nightstand and dresser. It was like a home in miniature. “Is that an actual shower?”

“Yep.” He replied as Sarah fell onto the, just as surprisingly nice, bed. The mattress probably hadn’t even been around for a year yet. Comfy. “Had to put together some money for that one. Worth it though.” Sarah heard him sigh, the creak of leather loud even past the curtain as he stood up. “I’m not an animal… and how old are you again?”

“Eighteen.” That was what her GED and really, really good fake ID said anyway… so she was sticking to it. Kicking her legs out, she spun herself around to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the driver’s cabin. “Why?”

“Like I said,” he stepped through the curtain, a box of tissues in hand; Sarah’s face going pale as she realized he was calling in the debt already. “I’m not an animal… just tired, and haven’t had any in awhile. Might as well get this done before one of us falls asleep.”

“Oh.” Sarah said quietly as he handed her the box; standing tall in front of her with his crotch barely two feet away from her face as he pulled the zipper down on his, thankfully clean, pants… actually, now that Sarah could see more than his face, he was justclean—Thank god—in generalHis clothes weren’t stained, he didn’t smell like a men’s urinal, and he was… okay. He wasn’t fit, but he was stocky, and the potbelly he had wasn’t as big as she’d thought it would be… which was a good thing.

He was already twice her age. She didn’t need anything heavier than that, thank you very much… but maybe this wouldn’t be so bad? She just had to keep a handle on her powers while she held up her end of the badly thought out bargain. Easy… at least until she had to do it again in the morning…. Goddamit.

“I’m just going to say right now, for future reference.” Sarah held the box up in front of her face without thinking about it, shielding herself with the piece of cardboard and three-ply for a moment before forcing it down into her lap; her throat painfully tight as the man in front of her pulled his semi-erect penis out through the front of his pants, seemingly too tired to even bother taking them off. “I’m normally much more of a romantic about stuff like this… you know, foreplay and all that.”

“Noted.”

“But could you please move over?” Sarah clamped down on her power as hard as she could could as he lifted his erection and pointed it at her face, its head already an eye-catching shade of red from what she could see of it, the rest hidden by his foreskin; its color darkening right in front of her eyes as it grew larger. “I kind of want to be lying down while we do this. Don’t want to fall down or anything.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Sarah nodded stiffly, finger indentations now firmly set into the box’s surface as she shuffled to the side and against the bookcase; the trucker falling into the spot she had vacated with a weary groan before he rolled over against the wall, pulling a pillow under his head and his arm over his eyes; erection bobbing lightly in the air as Sarah brought herself closer. “So what do I…?”

“You can do whatever to it, as long as it isn’t something stupid. Jerk it, suck it, ride it.” Sarah grimaced, her face warming uncomfortably at the thought of doing any of those things. “I’m not all that picky right now, as long as I get off… I do remember you said you’d give me a handjob though... so I don’t expect much else, even if it would be appreciated.”

“Sounds about right, yeah.” Getting onto her hands and knees, Sarah crawled the next couple of feet over and sat up; the ever-present box at her side as she reached out with her right hand—the left much too busy to join in, now that it had knotted itself up in her blouse, at her chest—getting closer in fits and starts before her fingers, finally, wrapped themselves around the shaft. “That’s all I’m up to giving tonight.” It wasn’t like she had any idea how to do anything else anyway.

Anything beyond the fact that she was jerking someone off, not trying to start a fire with her bare hands—Thank god she’d never been a girl scout, he’d probably be screaming in the first five seconds—was a little beyond her… but she guessed there was no time like the present, to see how much mileage she could get from that.

He moaned as Sarah’s grip tightened around him, his length twitching, slowly expanding—Has yet to reach full extension; Requires more stimulation in order to attain maximum blood-flow, hasn’t been touched by a female in the last three weeks or longer—as she slid her hand smoothly up to the head; her already expressive frown deepening yet further at the way the skin tugged at her hand; her right eye giving a single twitch when she tried gingerly...pulling at the foreskin, to peel it down, only to have the trucker—she probably should have learned his name before she started—finish it by pushing his waist up into her fist.

“I’m not made out of glass, girl.” Sarah squeezed a little harder, teeth clenched as she focused on keeping the walls up, instead of on the nearly seven inch, slightly sweaty erection in her hands that she could no longer reach her fingers around. “Start from the top, then down. It won’t hurt me none.”

“Okay. Alright.” Sarah forced out as she loosened her grip; the only thing keeping her going at the moment; the thought of being thrown out for not holding up her end of the deal, almost constantly, purposely at the front of her mind as she fit her hand back under the head, the top of her fingers brushing against the underside of his crown before she gave him another squeeze. A mistake, considering the drop of pre that she had pushed out, clear and wet against the back of her hand as she gave him a downwards stroke. “I got that now, thanks.”

Outside of the cab, there were sirens; Still loud, but moving further away as she followed his directions; the feeling of safety rising—along with the feeling of shame—with every pump back and forth. From head, to base. Release and return. Simple, repetitive, more tiring than she had expected as his cock grew large enough for her to notice a change in weight, a small change, but hell on her wrists, now that she couldn’t make a fist anymore. He was too big now. Much larger than her hand could fully hold, now that he was—Aroused; five to ten minutes until ejaculation at current rate. Is enjoying unpracticed stimulation. Wants more—at full mast.

She had to hold her arm at an angle now, to accommodate the way the dick in her hand had begun to bend under its own weight.

Sarah’s breathing began to deepen from exertion; speeding up as the scent of sex filled the tiny room, along with the sound of liquid spreading along a surface. Warm, thick, sticky precum easing every stroke, allowing her to speed up yet further, even as it made her want to scream. Yes, she could see how every stroke up forced out yet more of the stuff. Of course she noticed the way an especially thick glob highlighted that one vein. Why yes, being able to check someone’s BPM through their penis wasinteresting. Also, she would have never known that he felt guilty for thinking about taking it any further than this, and would have pushed her away if she had…. Well, that one was actually kind of sweet, but otherwise she didn’t want to know these things.

But of course, her power didn’t care about any of that. It needed to tell her every little thing, no matter how stupid, how inane, how utterly worthless something was to the current situation. Everything she fed it; what she saw, what she smelled, what she heard, what she tasted, and what she felt… was taken in by her power and spat right back out, even for something like this.

Another moan made Sarah flinch, disgusted, but still tugging and stretching as she reached for the tissues; pulling out as many as she could in one, great wad as she felt him begin to strain against her hand, his cock almost thrumming as she pushed it into the paper.

It told her other things sometimes. Things that weren’t about other people for once, but about her. Things she never wanted to hear.

Sarah’s stroking slowed as she felt the pulsing start; starting to feel sick as the paper in her left hand began to warm up against her palm while she gently, but firmly, helped him along; pushing out whatever was left over when he finally finished, then cleaning him off.

Things about her body. Things like how she was warming up, how her body was readying itself for sexual contact. How likely it would be in any given day for her to get pregnant with a healthy partner. How she was getting wet, jacking off a man twice her age in the back of a truck while she hid from the cops. Things like that.

Being a parahuman sucked sometimes. A lot of the time, if she was honest.

“There. I’m done.” Looking down at the upturned paper for a moment, Sarah wrinkled her nose—Virile; Pregnancy is currently likely, children would most likely be brown-haired, green-eyed, caucasian. Five and a half to six feet tall, moderately intelligent—at the off-white liquid in the middle before balling it up, throwing it into a nearby wastebasket before she started wiping her hands off. “We’re good now, right?” A heavy snore was her answer.

Being a parahuman really hadn’t been doing her any favors up to now. Not even close.

----------

Sarah stumbled out from behind the curtain, hissing at the sun with her hands straight out in front of her, as far away as she could reach without detaching them completely from her body.

Last night had been… rough. Sharing a bed with someone, anyone, wasn’t exactly something she was used to, but she did it. She’d tried waking him up, at first, only to get no response… so, she had just tucked him back in—it wasn’t like touching his dick, again, could make her hands any less clean—and put a pillow in between the two of them. Then two pillows. It might have meant she didn’t get one, but she was fine with that. Better than having him hug her in her sleep or something.

She had standards. Loosened standards, but still. Standards.

The next morning had ended up with her finally emptying the box of tissues, him satisfied… and her realizing there was no sink in here. There was a bathroom, and a shower, but no sink. Hell there wasn’t even a wet wipe somewhere.

She couldn’t go outside, not now, not with the people looking for her…. And there was no way she was going to take a shower in here.

There was tempting fate, and then there was just being stupid. Having a completely naked girl, one that had literally jacked you off twice in what was technically the same day, hanging around what might as well be your house, dripping wet and fresh from a shower right in front of you could really stress someone’s morals. Even if Earl—She’d finally learned his name. His highly stereotypical name—was a pretty nice guy, she wasn’t willing to push it.

Her eyes widened and she ducked down to peer over the dashboard as a police car drove by… only for her eyes to pop open yet further as she saw the man in the backseat, snarling angrily and kicking at the mesh separating him from the officers up front.

Murderous; Viciously angry, and belligerent. Possible gang member. Has killed twenty to thirty people in the last five years, is caucasian, is highly likely he has three names and is wanted in at least two states. Prior conclusion was mistaken, rising number of officers was not due to credit card being tracked, but suspicion that murderer was in the area.

“God fucking damn it!” Sarah placed her face in her hands, “I could have just waited for the bu—” her features twisted into a mask of pure horror as she whipped her hands away, not even noticing the pain resulting from one of them cracking against the dashboard as she popped open the passenger door and sprinted towards the public bathroom.

“Whyyyyyy!?”

----------

Present Day

“That day kind of set the tone for the last six months or so.” Sarah shrugged, legs kicking nonchalantly at the edge of the refurbished, seventies era bed. It had been hard, almost impossible for her not to laugh. To start cackling at the way Trevor had blushed, how his face, and emotions, had been stuck in a sort of... horrified embarrassment; twinges of lust, tinged with guilt starting to show once she’d begun detailing her first sexual experience. With some embellishments, or even outright lies added of course. No use in looking bad in front of the clients, after all. “Not that I knew it at the time.”

“Aren’t you...” Trevor swallowed, looking down at his lap for a moment before he looked back at her, “Aren’t you embarrassed about, you know, telling me that stuff? It sounded kinda—”

“Personal?” Trevor flushed as Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really. You don’t get very far, doing what I do if you can’t deal with a little embarrassment….” Raising her arms, Sarah stretched, actually chuckling a little as Trevor looked away and she lowered her arms again. His friend hadn’t been kidding about the shyness of his. An easy enough fix, just in thirty minutes or less. “And I’m already paid for. If you want to blow your money and time on asking me questions, I’m fine with that.”

“I—” Trevor’s mouth opened for a moment, nothing coming out before he closed it; taking a moment to look at his hands before he tried again. “How does that even happen anyway? Like… you went from doing handjobs to...” He gestured at Sarah, her smirk widening even further as his hand fell. “This.” He finished flatly.

“Well… I can definitely tell you it doesn’t happen overnight. At least, not for most people.”

----------

Cringing, Sarah otherwise held herself as still as she could as he continued fucking her fist; cum oozing, bubbling out from between her tightly clenched fingers as he neared his second climax.

----------

Most people aren’t able to do things like what I do right off. Not without a lot of preparation… or desperation…. But let's not talk about that one.”

----------

She caught her breath and wiped her mouth with a cough; swallowing thickly, her eyes closed, and hands shaking as she wrapped her lips back around the tip.

----------

“And I’m not talking about just physical preparation either, even if that stuff is important too. A good chunk of this job, how good you do, and how you deal with it… is in your head.”

----------

Sarah breathed slowly and deeply, keeping herself focused on the tv, on the news. Away from the woman beside her; the hand pushing out the front of Sarah’s underwear, nearly idle aside from a single feminine finger, gently probing her moistening entrance.

----------

“And the only way to build all that stuff up? All the things you need? It takes experience, just like any other difficult job. There are bad days.”

----------

Looking in the mirror, Sarah winced as she dipped her hair into the sink and ran her fingers through her bangs; loosening up the hardened spunk from the night before.

----------

“And there are good days.”

----------

Gasping, Sarah’s legs wrapped around the back of the other girl’s head; fingers entangled in her long, red hair as she silently begged for more.

----------

“Some people just have more of one than the other… and I have had a lot of good days… which really helped, when I had to make a decision to keep doing this or not.”

----------

Lowering her head, Sarah began to lick the slowly shrinking cock in her hand clean; sucking at it until it stood erect once more, before popping off of it with a smile.

----------

“Once I got over myself, and dealt with some personal issues... I found out that I actually kind of liked doing stuff like this. Traveling America, seeing the sights, doing things I’ve never done before without anyone telling me what to do—meeting, then fucking, interesting people is just cake after all that… which is why I love my job. Actually, scratch that.” Sarah grinned. “What I meant to say was,”

----------

Sarah whined, panting desperately as she was taken on the bed; nails scratching at his back hard enough to draw blood with every pounding stroke deep inside of her.

----------

“I fucking love my job. The emphasis is important, don’t ya know?” A hand on Trevor’s chest had him down on the bed, a strangled squawk coming from his mouth as Sarah climbed on top. “But nice as it is to tell you my life story, we’ve got about... an hour till I get off at the next stop. So how bout we make some memories?”

“Memories? What do you mean by—OH MY GOD!”

----------

Tracy’s fingers beat a tattoo on the steering wheel, to the rhythm of the music blaring from his earphones; giving his friend a bit of privacy for what was probably the biggest day of his life so far. Better than any day he’d ever have after, if the stuff he’d heard about this girl, from the net had been for real.

He turned up the speakers a little more, risking hearing damage as he adjusted his driving for the rocking motion that had started up in back.

It was too bad they only had enough money for the one of them though… but oh well. Maybe he could pull something out from his bank account when they got to the next place? It wasn’t like college actually needed books, right? A bit of splurging wouldn’t hurt… maybe? Yeah, it probably would… but he had plenty of time to decide.

Tracy sighed and bent the rear view mirror to the side, away from the action in the back as he caught sight of one thing too many.

Forty-seven miles till they hit Brockton Bay… and school had never seemed so unimportant.

----------

Seven months later

Lisa had been panicked before. Delusional. Confused. Sometimes, even flatout deranged when the stars were right. But never like this, like she had been, on and off, since she'd fallen into one of her profession's many occupational hazards.

"My head hurts..."

And she couldn't even rely on her age old standby for relief; destroying her parents reputation by sending the people they knew pictures of her while she was at work, with prices attached for each act shown while telling them to call her parents if they wanted to see her—The police were still looking for those imaginary, underage sex tapes. Her parents’ fault for not admitting she was gone until it was too late—Hell, she couldn't even use her actual name anymore, completely unable to bring shame upon her family with her very existence because they might actually be able to track her down if she did!

…Lisa had issues. Decade long subscriptions really, and she knew that. She was the very picture of a young, attractive, teenage runaway. Prostituting herself for cash, clothes, shelter, and fun. Doing crimes, from petty larceny to assault—Not so much of either of those anymore. She was Control now, the stay at home director of illegalities. And she’d be that way for at least another three to four months. Supervillain maternity leave was pretty great—A pregnancy before she’d even gotten married, or even hit eighteen years of age; almost completely unsure of who the father was—She had an idea when it came to who...but when you had Amy Dallon on speed dial, you could never be quite sure. Girl was kind of a freak—and her main squeeze was a large, muscular, attractive, black man that used to work as a bouncer before he quit, and started a career that revolved around committing various misdemeanors and felonies.

She was a cautionary tale come to life… but meh. So what? It was a lot more fun than those after-school infomercials had made it out to be.

“Yeah? Alright.” Brian’s head fell back to look at her from over the back of the couch as she waddled out of her room in a pair of fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe, a little cheer coming from Alec—Suck it, Brian!—prompting an uplifted finger from Brian and an exclamation from Taylor as that moment’s inattention won Alec the match; blood exploding in unrealistic amounts from Brian’s character as its chest was ventilated by what looked like a railroad spike. Made of chainsaws and barbed wire that were actually made of lava. Edgy. “I’ll get you something.” Brian stood up, dropping his controller as he made his way to the kitchen, Bitch staring sulkily at him right as he hit the linoleum, from her spot at the kitchen table. “Just get back to bed, and I’ll be right out.” 

“Kay.” Lisa waved at everyone else, only Taylor and Alec—with a helping of Angelica—willing to play along with waves of their own; a blush on Taylor’s face as Lisa walked back into her room to, gently, fall onto her bed. Butt first, sadly.

She missed being able to belly flop. More than she thought it would, now that the option was gone… and she hated not being able to do things by herself, without worrying about her mood changing on a dime. Happy, weepy, angry, needy, sleepy… horny. Sometimes all of those things at once, which was kind of just… bleh.

Lisa smiled widely as Brian walked in, glass of water in one hand and a couple of Acetaminophen—Safety first—in the other; a quiet ‘thank you’ being said before she took them both.

Thankfully, it was the last of those emotions that was the most common. The one she actually knew how to deal with, when it wasn’t mixed up with her being needy. Lisa didn’t do needy. She was the one that people needed; the smartest, hottest girl on the block. The one that had all the answers, and everything you never knew you needed.

Lisa watched Brian from under her eyelashes; drinking slowly, throat exposed as she loosened the belt of her bathrobe. A flash of skin and the babydoll she’d been wearing underneath—Red, silky; strap hanging off her right shoulder, and showing off the swollen upper curves of her breasts before she lifted a leg, and grinned.

“Can I get a foot massage too?” Lisa fluttered her eyelashes in a well practiced motion that had brought men—and women—of all ages to their knees, turning them into nothing more than butter in her hands. “Please? I’ll make it worth your while~” Brian rolled his eyes, bending down onto a knee as he took one of her feet in his hands. It seemed that he was gaining a resistance to her feminine wiles… ha, no. He was just better at hiding how it affected him. “There we go...”

“You act like I wasn’t going to do it in the first place.” Lisa groaned, her toes spreading out as Brian pressed down on her heel just right. Almost as good as sex. Almost, but not quite. She would know. “You’ve had me do this often enough it’s become a habit.”

“Are you saying I’m not worth it?” Lisa sniffed, nothing more than crocodile tears as she slapped Brian on the shoulder. “That I’m not worth a couple of minutes of your time, after all I do for you?” Brian ran a hand over the arch of her foot, shoulders shaking as he held in his laughter. “I spend the whole day, slaving over a radio and a set of monitors for you so that you can come home, and this is how you repay me? I even ordered pizza. Pizza, Brian. I ought to make you sleep on the couch.”

“Didn’t we throw the couch away? After that one time where you and I—”

“I know what I said,” Lisa bit her lip, shivering as old memories passed her by. “Keep acting like that, and you can find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Alright, what?”

“Alright, ma’am.

“Better. Not quite right, but better.” Lisa ran her fingers across the top of Brian’s scalp before taking it back to remove her bathrobe completely. It had been starting to feel like she was melting for a moment, her—Aroused; Host is already pregnant. Host doesn’t care, enjoys the act of sexual reproduction for the acts sake. Chemical imbalance is enhancing already active sex drive, is up for anything; is completely shameless—hormones ramping her up prematurely for what was coming. “Good enough for a reward, I think.”

“A reward, huh?” Brian switched his hands to the other foot, a sigh of relief from Lisa the sign of a job well done. “What kind of reward?”

“Well...” Lisa drawled as she pulled at the other strap; the top of her baby doll now pooling into her lap and around her waist. “I’m not wearing any underwear—”

“You don’t say?”

“—Hush. And stop that.” The corners of Lisa’s lips twitched upwards in a smile as she kicked her feet out of Brian’s hands. “Pull those pants down and get up here, you smartass.”

“You know you don’t need to check me out, right?” Brian said as he unbuckled his pants. “Everything still works, amazingly enough. Even if that denial game we played last time got me worried for a while… felt like I’d broken something.”

“I think it was worth it.” Lisa hummed softly as she leaned forward and gave him a squeeze, smiling as he flexed back. “But I kind of have to check, just in case. Drained those balls of yours for the better part of a week that day... So I need to make sure everything is working how it should.”

She’d already done that actually. The night before, when he slept next to her… but there was nothing wrong with double-checking, was there? Of course not…. Getting a good grope in was just a part of the deal, that’s all.

“Right.” Brian replied, obviously unconvinced as Lisa let him go, dropping his boxers as she scooted towards the center of the bed. “Pull the other one, Lisa.”

Lisa froze, eyes wide and hopeful. “Was that… permission?”

“No.” Lisa pouted, “No way am I going to have another guy in here. You know that already… too much dick in here as it is.”

“Aww, you’re no fun…. And there’s no such thing as too much. Take it from me. The call girl.” Lisa got up on her knees, waiting for Brian to finish laying himself out before she shuffled, carefully, on top of him; eyes following a singular fly as it joined up with a small group of them in the corner of the room. Lisa needed to give Taylor a talk about how obvious she was being about the whole thing, even if it was cute. She could have just asked if she wanted to watch. “It also doesn’t have to be a guy, you know.”

“...You’re insatiable.”

“Of course I am.” Lisa acknowledged with a nod of the head and a giggle, “I’m equal opportunity. A real professional... even if you’re the only guy I’ve been with in the last few months—you spoil me, you brute, you… but sometimes, I need a feminine touch.” Lisa patted Brian on the chest and looked down; moving a lock of hair behind her ear as she adjusted herself, sighing with relief as the head of Brian’s cock popped in—she could stop anytime she wanted, and she didn’t want to—before she stopped and looked Brian in the eyes. “Which is why I think we should invite Taylor to join us sometime.”

Lisa’s grin grew yet further, her traditional vulpine smile in full form as the group of flies in the corner all fell from the ceiling; the thump of a body hitting the floor in the other room enough of a prompt for Brian to raise an eyebrow… but not quite enough for him to ask what had just happened. He knew better than that by now.

Pavlovian conditioning was a wonder.

“Maybe. If she’s up to it.” Lisa cooed as she placed her hands on Brian’s chest, his eyes closing as he did his normal ‘guy’ routine. Sports, math; underwater basket weaving and Shadow Stalker. That last one always worked, hilariously enough… Lisa was just waiting for a chance to use it. Stalker needed her ego popped every once in awhile, and Alec would be happy to help when the time came. “Your butt again, huh? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“Of course I have. An hour with Panacea really changes a girl… if you know what I mean.” Lisa smiled around the finger in between her teeth, shuddering the whole way down, just enjoying the journey while Brian tried to keep himself sane… before she finally hit bottom with a shake of her hips; curses coming out of Brian’s mouth as Lisa giggled and patted her stomach. “ And you’re a little big for the baby, Brian. I’d be worrying the whole time if I just let you at me like you normally do.” He grunted as Lisa ground back into him before she moved her hips forward and back. “But that’s your fault.”

“My fault?” Brian asked, smirking as he placed his hands on Lisa’s hips, “What does that even mean, ‘my fault’?”

“It means,” Lisa arched her back, eyes closed in joy as Brian started coming up to meet her rocking, just soaking in the feeling of mutual contact, of touch. Letting all the little things that came to her at moments like this wash over her, telling her that she wasdesired. That she was needed and wanted… and that she was the one in control. She’d never get tired of it. “Exactly what you think it means.”

Brian rolled his eyes again, his mouth opening in what Lisa had no doubt was the start of a scathing rebuttal; a quick buck of her hips all that was needed to make sure that rebuttal would never come as he bit back a gasp. She smiled at him even as he glared back, the implied anger completely absent as he caressed Lisa’s sides.

Talking was fun and all—one of her favorite things to do, when she wasn’t at work—but the foreplay, short as it was, was regretfully over. She had needs. Needs that weren’t being fulfilled with a bit of talking, some gentle movement, and a cock stuffed backside.

Lisa smoothly shifted her weight, the change in pressure dragging a moan out from the both of them as Lisa tightened up around Brian. Tight enough to make Brian even harder than before as she leaned down, feeling Brian bend inside of her as she leaned down; face flushed, pussy leaking all over Brian’s crotch as he thrust up into her ass and took one of her breasts into his mouth… which is when he began to suck.

Lisa loved this. Loved how new this was, even after all these months. The by now familiar, and even comforting—and wasn’t that a weird thought—feeling of her lower half being filled, mixed with the unfamiliar feeling of her upper half being emptied of milk it almost turned her mind to mush.

Almost. This wasn’t her first rodeo after all.

Lisa’s arms almost buckled under her as Brian spanked her. Twice. Each blow hard enough that she could feel the vibrations moving down her thighs; a minor orgasm firing off, pussy clenching around nothing but air—maybe a dildo would be nice next time? A vibrator, maybe?—as Brian took the inch she had given him, and took what felt like the start of the next ten miles; her ass starting to feel like it was melting at every strike, right near Lisa’s limit before he started squeezing and massaging it instead.

“Well, well, well...” Lisa whispered as Brian let go of her breast; creamy white drops falling, beading on his chest as he took the other nipple in his mouth. “It looks like someone has been paying attention~”

And she wasn’t just saying that for once. She’d had gigs like this, every once in awhile. Rich kids, looking to learn about all the things she could teach them. How to read the mood, figuring out your partner’s likes and dislikes. How to keep things going: when to hold themselves back, when to let loose, the amount of times their partner had to cum before they did, and several tried and true sexual classics. She’d done it so many times, she’d gotten it down to an art… the art of teaching someone everything they knew—

Brian gave her another solid smack on the ass, enjoying Lisa’s shivers, her groans and the sudden spray egging Brian on as he forced her to roll her hips into his thrusts, pushing as deep as he could go into her body; his balls the only thing left outside of her before he pulled back, slowly, forcing Lisa to feel everysinglemaddening inch as she was emptied before he forced himself back in; balls slapping against her ass as she was full again.

—But not everything she knew. Was it her fault, that they weren’t the type to look a little deeper, work a little harder, as they reached for something beyond the bumbling of virginity? That they weren’t willing to spend just a little bit more cash and dedication to the art that was lovemaking? Was it her fault, that just about every one of those rich kids were total douchebags, not worth her time outside of the shiny things they could give her and how well they could fill her wallet?

Lisa’s eyes widened, gazing off into the distance as Brian seated himself inside of her; his dick pushing at her walls as he kept her body moving, gyrating on his dick as she slowly lowered the upper half of her body; her nipple popping out of Brian’s mouth, leaving a splash of milk to dry on his chin and neck as she hid her head in her arms; laying herself out on his chest and breathing in his scent.

Of course not. Sex, as she’d said before, was an art… and they had been substandard materials. The equivalent of using cardboard and crayon to recreate the entirety of the Sistine Chapel. Useless. A complete waste of time and effort…. Which is why Brian had been such a surprise: Responsible, handsome, willing to learn, owner of a healthy libido, a huge cock... and was not a douche. Prime materials.

The fact that they had to spend so much time together? For months on end? Well, she wouldn’t be ashamed to say—

Lisa screamed into her arms, almost wailing as she felt Brian’s semen flooding her insides, coating them with a fresh paint of white even as she came herself; liquid filling the space in between them—She’d forgotten about her clothes… oh well. It was for a good cause— Lisa’s long experience the only reason for why she still had her mind about her when other girls would have been a drooling mess.

—That Brian was going to be her greatest work, when she was done. Her Magnum Opus, her Mona Lisa, the one that would spoil her when it came to all other men…. And god was she pretentious.

For a while, they just laid there. Lisa's head on Brian's well defined chest. Panting; listening to his heartbeat as he stroked her back; the two of them content, for now, to just rest in the afterglow.

“Feel up for another round?” Or at least he was anyway.

“I need a shower, Lisa.” Brian sat up as Lisa moved reluctantly off of him. Lisa had more work to do it seemed, before he had the kind of stamina she wanted. “And so do you. We got work later today, remember? That thing with the Merchants?”

“Of course I remember.” Lisa pulled the straps of her baby doll back over her shoulders, frowning at the damp spot in the middle that she just knew was going to haunt her dreams. Stains like that were a bitch to get out. “I’m the gal with the plans aren’t I? And I think saving water is a great idea.”

“Lisa.”

“We’re saving the environment, Brian.” Lisa quickly stood up grabbed her towel from off the rack, turning around to give Brian a devilish smile as she walked towards her bathroom. “Think of the dolphins.”

“Dolphins?” Brian reached his hand out, only to let it fall limply to his side as Lisa gave him a wave and stepped into the bathroom. “What the hell—”

“Shower sex, Brian~”

“... Go dolphins.”

----------

The shower shut off with barely a squeak. The result of a lot more money than should ever be spent on a bathroom, in order to make it as efficient, and comfortable, as any bathroom could possibly be…. She’d seen too many other, lesser, bathrooms to allow anything else but the very best. As good as unlimited hot water, room to move or laze around; a tub, hot and cold. Sturdy shelves and towel racks, with the very best flooring she could get without drawing attention to yourself.

It’s not that she was picky… it was just that she had experience on what made a good bathroom and what didn’t. It was a pet peeve of hers, after all the places she’d been to, worked at… bathrooms hadn’t exactly been an uncommon venue in the last few months, she’d say that, and most of them weren’t exactly what she’d call... romantic.

Lisa shook her head, water flying everywhere as looked up at Brian; a soft smile on her face, as she gave a kiss to his jawline and he gave her a peck on the head before she went back to toweling off her hair. One of his personal preferences after sex, one that she… sort of understood, at least from his perspective. Not so much from hers.

She actually thought he tasted pretty good… but different strokes for different folks, right?

Lisa, poked a tongue into the corner of her mouth as she picked up a brush and sat down in front of the mirror. Watching Brian as he walked into the other room, her thighs starting to rub together even as she brushed her hair; the way the water he hadn’t wiped away moved down his muscles and caught her eye… Lisa paused, brush stuck in her hair as she took a breath.

“Stupid pregnancy hormones.” Lisa muttered and resumed her brushing. “Twice is enough for the day, please and thank you.” Anymore than that and they’d never do anything besides fuck the day away… and now she was thinking about fucking the day away. God damn it. “Kid isn’t even out yet, already driving me crazy.” Lisa dropped the brush on the sink and stood up, quickly walking past Brian to get to the door as something caught her eye. It looked like that talk was coming a little sooner than she’d thought. “Hold that pose, babe.”

“What?” Brian turned around to face her—and the door—towel wrapped around his neck but otherwise completely naked as Lisa swung the door open. “... Damn it, Lisa.”

“Hello, Taylor.” Taylor’s eyes grew large behind her glasses as the looked over Lisa’s body, still wet from the shower before they darted to Brian, to Brian’s package, then back to her. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been watching us.”

“I-I...” Taylor’s face flushed an interesting shade of red, her breathing stopping for a moment as Brian turned around, showing off one of his best features. “I was just—”

“Brian’s free tomorrow, you know.” Taylor’s eyes shot back to Lisa, “If you want a turn with him.”

“A turn?” Taylor croaked as Lisa crossed her arms, raising her breasts with a smirk. “But… isn’t he your…?”

“Boyfriend? He sure is. We’re kind of a two for one deal, so once I think about it... no dice.” Taylor sagged in a mixture of relief… and crushing disappointment as Lisa leaned in, face to face. Close enough to kiss, to feel Taylor’s breath washing over her lips before she spoke again. “You can’t have a turn with just him…. So how bout we talk group rates?”

Taylor stiffened for a moment, eyes opening; looking at Lisa without the slightest bit of comprehension before her face lit up with realization... and she relaxed, eyes rolling up into her head as she fainted dead away for the second time that day, this time into Lisa’s arms; holding her close as Lisa’s plans came together.

Heavily aroused; excited and fearful. Unconscious. Highly likely she will take you up on your offer after she awakens.

This was going to be so much fun~