A Gift in Disguise

The drive from Marta's home office back to my apartment took only about half an hour. Fortunately, traffic was light.

By the time I pulled into my parking space at the apartment, I was feeling surprisingly invigorated. Marta had found no plagiarism concerns in my thesis, and then in an effort to help explain both my 'gift' and the reason for Emily's aggressive sexual behavior toward me on Lorraine's front porch days earlier, she had given me a very personal introduction to the ancient Asian sexual practice of shifuku. It left me drained, then wrung out. And yet, walking from the parking lot toward my apartment, I felt remarkably refreshed.

Walking past the apartment complex's mailboxes, I stopped to check my snailmail. Only one envelope — from Sharon Madison. I opened it and saw the two concert tickets she had promised to send. There was also a note from her. All it said was, "I hope you and Bethany have a good time at the concert and an even better time afterwards ;>). -S-" The note brought a smile to my face. And just the mention of Bethany's name put a twitch in my trousers as well.

Once inside my apartment, I set the tickets on my table next to the computer.

I knew I needed to shower, but my first thought was to call Jamie and share Marta's comments about my thesis. Jamie had reviewed it for content, so she was entitled to be the first to hear the good news about what Marta said.

"Hello. This is Jamie Devlin. Please leave your name and number and I'll return your call."

I glanced at the digital clock on my cell phone. It read 6:19 p.m. Dinner time for many people. Then I remembered that Jamie had said this entire week was going to be hectic because of a new Department of Defense project she had contracted to complete. She probably ducked out to grab something to go to bring back to her prosthetics design laboratory and fabrication facility.

I decided to take advantage of the time to take a quick shower. I shed my clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shower, refreshed and clean. Even though the early evening was cool outdoors, my apartment remained warm from the unseasonably hot day. Rather than get dressed while still warm from the shower, I just wrapped the towel around my waist.

Wearing only the towel, I picked up my cell phone from the vanity, walked out of the bathroom, and straight to the front window to close the vertical blinds. With the sliding window closed, there was no danger of a breeze blowing the blinds open so passers-by could see in. My complete privacy assured, I removed the damp towel, wadded it up, and tossed it back into the bathroom and onto the floor. I don't make it a regular practice of being nude in my apartment, but during the hot months it helps cool me down after a shower. Now the lingering daytime warmth of the apartment felt just right on my unclothed body.

I went toward the kitchen to find something to eat as a light dinner. Just as I reached for the fridge handle, my cell phone rang.

"Hello, this is Tom."

"Hi, Tom, it's Jamie returning your call. I took a break from my project and dashed out to get some Vietnamese take-out when you called. What's going on?"

"I met with Marta Cruz this afternoon to go over the results of her plagiarism testing on my thesis. I thought you might want to hear what she said."

"Thank you for being so thoughtful, Tom. But I'll bet I already have a good idea what she found — or more likely, didn't find."

"Yeah, you were right all along, Jamie. She came to the same conclusion you had. There weren't any concerns. But it was still interesting learning how her software works. And again, I appreciate your and Marta's willingness to help me out by checking my work."

"Oh, you're more than welcome, Tom. And after this new DoD project is done, I'll expect you to show your gratitude with some of your special handling."

I chuckled at her reference to 'special handling'. When Jamie and I started having sex, I wasn't surprised to find that her manually masturbating me to orgasm was remarkably satisfying to me. What did surprise me was that my pleasure and her's was enhanced by my skillfully stroking her cock at the same time. We had come to refer to it as 'special handling' time.

"So, how is your DoD project going?"

"It's interesting to say the least. Completely unclassified, by the way. It has to do with looking at present management of military wounds. Everything from pain management in the field to eventual prosthetic design and application during rehab. As you might guess, the area they want my input on is the latter.

It's more of a think-tank type project than a physical device one. They're finally beginning to recognize that initial treatment on the battlefield can contribute to not only saving a life or limb or function but also toward helping a wounded warrior adjust physically and emotionally to a prosthetic. That's the focus of my input for this project."

"If you can tell me this, I'm curious. Do you see your prosthetic phallus project here having any application in what DoD is doing now?"

"I'm glad you asked, Tom. As you might expect, the prosthetic side of military wound management has focused on extremities amputations and deformities. But with advances in various sensors and processing their output, DoD wants to look at more prosthetic device possibilities for a wider range of injuries. They see what they call quality of life prosthetics as significantly restoring emotional health to ward off the devastating emotional effects of TBI and PTSD.

To answer your question directly, Tom, yes, I do. But let me remind you that it is our project, not just mine. Before I talk to any outsiders specifically about it, you and I need to sit down and meet as a group with Kim, Lorraine, Amanda, Marta, and Emily to discuss it. With our schedules as busy as they are, getting everyone together in one room will be challenging."

"Incidentally, Jamie, one of the things Marta told me was that Emily is over at the state capitol taking some required continuing legal education classes. On their own, Emily and Lorraine decided it would be a good opportunity for Lorraine to bring her prosthetic phallus and join Emily there. I think Marta said they should return Wednesday — tomorrow."

"Yes, Kim and Marta had told me that was happening, too. I'm going to hold off on the color and temperature revisions on Kim's phallus until after we've talked with Lorraine and Emily. We'll also postpone further design on Amanda's phallus until we get their comments.

Isn't Friday the day you plan on turning in the pre-publication final drafts of your thesis to your committee?"

"Yes. Since you and Marta didn't suggest any revisions, I'll take an original to The Copy Store tomorrow."

"Tom, you might want to do something that will sound like more work but will pay big dividends. Your thesis committee probably gave you a written instruction prescribing every detail of your thesis' presentation copies. You know, type of paper and its size, type font and size, margins, final binding, stuff like that."

"Yeah, they did."

"Did that paper say anything about how the final review copies, the ones you will have made tomorrow, need to be formatted?"

"No, I just assumed ..."

"Everyone assumes that, but here's something I learned when I did my thesis. You'll probably score points with the committee if the review copies you submit to them are formatted so it is easy on their eyes and easy to mark up. Use white 22-24 pound bond paper with the same brightness rating and the same type font style prescribed for the final bound copy. But set the type font size to no smaller than 11 and no larger than 12. Double space between lines and leave inch-and-a-half margins all around on all pages. That gives them plenty of space to make markup notes. Believe me, Tom, they'll appreciate those little things that make their job easier. It may seem like an unnecessary expense, but your consideration will definitely be noted. Obviously the final approved publication versions for the EE Department and the Library will need to meet the prescribed format.

I'd also suggest you have an additional two or three final review copies made. Judging from what you've told me, there's a pretty good chance your chairman will want to show it to a colleague or two."

Jamie had never given me bad suggestions, so I readily agreed. We chatted only a couple more minutes before Jamie excused herself to eat her take-out before it got cold, then get back to work on her DoD project.

I wasn't really hungry now, so I decided to give Sharon Madison a quick call to tell her the tickets and her note had arrived. Given the hour, it was possible she was at the rehab center with her husband nearby, so I decided to keep it clean.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hello, Mrs.Madison, this is Tom Connors."

"My, aren't we being formal," she declared good-naturedly.

"I wasn't sure where you would be or if you could talk, so ..."

"Are you home all alone, Tom?" she interrupted.

"Yes, I am," I answered.

"Good. Flip on your computer if it isn't already on. Then call me back in about five minutes. We'll do video chat together."

"Okay, that will give me time to get some clothes on. I just got out of the shower and I stayed naked to get cooled off." Still tingling slightly from Marta's shifuku tutorial, I hadn't even considered the effect these words might have on Sharon.

"Don't even think about putting clothes on, sugardick! I want to see you on video just as you are." I turned on the computer and checked my emails during the five-minute wait time. I was sitting in the chair in front of my computer desk with my lower body underneath the keyboard slider. I mouse-clicked on Sharon's vid-chat screen icon and then called her on her cell phone. We talked just a few seconds on the phone until our computers synched together.

When the picture on my screen came up, I saw an empty room filling most of my screen. My own image with in the upper right corner. All Sharon would be able to see in this position was my upper chest and head. I could hear her walking from somewhere toward her computer and camera, and as she walked toward it, her voice audio level came up. But she was not on camera.

We continued to make small talk. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I could hear rustling.

"We can kill the cell phones now and talk via the video chat." I could tell she was still a little ways away from the mic, and she was still not on camera. I hit the 'End' button on my cell phone.

"I can hear you, Sharon, but I can't see you."

"Why don't you stand up and move back from your camera?" she ordered. "And unless you want me to disconnect right now, I better see nothing but skin covering that gorgeous young body."

I stood up and moved until I was standing about four feet from the camera. I readjusted my camera until everything above my knees was in my own frame.

"How's this?" I asked. Still no image of Sharon.

"Oh, yeah. That's what I needed to see tonight. Well, at least a start." The rustling sound continued.

"I still can't see you, though," I repeated. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know the tickets and note arrived in the mail today. I'm going to call Bethany tomorrow to tell her the tickets have arrived. It gives me another excuse to talk with her.

I'd thank Leonard, too, but somehow I suspect he doesn't know about your concert tickets' new home. How's he doing?"

"Leonard's doing much better now that he's closer to home. He came through the medical helicopter flight very well. His doctors here can't sing praises enough for the LOIRE doctors who helped them zero in his rehab treatment.

I was talking with Bethany last night about some club business — setting up an appointment for her, her father, and her brother to meet with Misako Sato, in fact. You have no idea how excited she is that you invited her to the concert. And I don't think it's the concert's theme that has her excited, either. Judging from what I'm seeing right now on the screen every time we mention her, Bethany's not the only one excited about your date with her.

And speaking of Misako, that meeting at the Club will be on Friday, the 19th. Would you be available to let him photograph you on Saturday, the 20th? That's not this weekend but next, and a week before your concert date with Bethany — not that that really enters into it, but your photo session with Misako might give you and Bethany something different to talk about after the concert. It would also save him the cost of flying himself and his photo gear back here from the Bay Area another time."

"Sure, the 20th sounds okay. You'll have to give me the exact time and place, though."

The sound of Sharon's microphone being handled and repositioned erupted from my speaker. At the same time, the picture on my screen changed. The camera seemed to sweep the room in jerks, settling finally on a white doorway. The doorway was empty.

"What's all that noise, Sharon? Did you bump the camera?"

"Everything's fine, Tom. Don't move. Just close your eyes. I'll tell you when to open them."

I felt a little strange standing naked a few feet from my computer with my eyes closed staring toward the screen and listening to noise.

"Open your eyes, Tommy," she said in a seductively commanding voice.

It took a second or two for my eyes to focus on the computer screen. And now I wished I had at least a 48-inch HDTV rather than just my 24-inch desktop computer screen.

Sharon had assumed a 3/4-stance, perfectly framed from mid-thigh up in the white doorway. She was looking slightly left and directly into the camera's lens and wearing nothing but a pair of black thigh-high stockings and black patent leather high heels. It could have been a perfectly lit and photographed pose straight out of Playboy magazine, not one of the sleazy "what her Ob-Gyn saw" trashy mags. I tried to speak, but couldn't.

I just kept staring at her. Her auburn shoulder-length hair had just the right disarray to it. Her blue eyes (natural, not contact lens artificial) sparkled. Her straight bright white teeth were the perfect background for her smile outlined with just the right shade of red lipstick. And for a woman the same age as my mother to have natural breasts that didn't sag and with perky pink nipples seemed almost criminal. If it hadn't been on live video chat, I'd have sworn her body had been airbrushed. Her dark full pussy hair had been perfectly manicured, and her left leg was positioned just slightly forward to hide the treasure buried in her hair. To add the final touches of glam and class, Sharon had put on diamond earrings, a diamond necklace, two diamond bracelets on her left wrist, and she was wearing her diamond wedding ring on her left middle finger.

But what got my attention and drove my cock to attention was a man's plain gold band on her right thumb. It would have been easy for anyone else to miss, barely visible between the door frame and her right breast in the background. After our first sex together, Sharon started wearing it whenever she wanted to be fucked when we were together. If she wasn't wearing it, it was because her husband Leonard was nearby or other circumstances dictated discretion from both of us. It was our all-clear signal.

Though Sharon held her pose in the doorway, her eyes tracked downward on her screen to my now-completely engorged and bobbing erection. Given that only about three hours earlier I had been pumping every last drop of my cum into Marta Cruz, the god of manhood must have taken sympathy upon me and had somehow gone into overtime sperm and testosterone production.

"Mmmm," she purred. "That's a good start. Shall we do something together, Tommy?"

"Oh, yeah!" my voice sounded suddenly dry, hoarse.

"Then stay right where you are and close your eyes again. Keep them closed 'til I tell you to open them."

I did as she commanded. Again, it was the sound of the microphone being handled.

"You can open your eyes again, Tommy."

The scene had changed from the doorway to a bedroom. Having been in Leonard and Sharon's house a few times, I recognized it as their small guest bedroom that doubled as Sharon's home office. She had simply turned the camera and microphone from the doorway to the guest bed.

She was lying on her side the bed with her body displayed front full length parallel to the camera and facing it.

"Don't you wish you could join me, Tommy? I wish you could," she teased. "But we can still do something together, can't we." It was a statement, not a question. "Awww, you look all tense. Well, that's all right, so am I. And I know just what will help both of us relieve our tension."

Reflexively, I moved my hand to my fully erect cock and began to slowly stroke it.

"That's my boy," Sharon responded. "You always know exactly what your mommy needs when Leonard isn't around, don't you, baby? Oh, Tommy, you're so big and hard. You're making mommy very, very wet, you naughty young man."

She pushed a button on a small remote control in her left hand. Slowly and a bit jerkily the camera lens zoomed in so that it was showing a tight view of her reclining body.

She moved her right hand to brush some hair out of her eyes. Then her hand moved slowly down over the side of her face, then her neck, to her right breast. She pinched its nipple between her thumb and forefinger and tugged outward on it. She did that several times, then let her hand continue to slide down her abdomen. The nipple stayed pink, taut, and elongated.

At the sight of her now, I pictured my face first licking and sucking that nipple, then following her hand downward to her hairy pussy. My self-pleasuring continued, now accompanied by involuntary guttural sex sounds. Clearly, what she saw and heard from me was exactly what she had hoped would happen.

"Oh, you bad, bad boy," she chided but with encouragement. "What are you going to do with that dark red monster? You want to jerk off with your mommy, don't you Tommy? You want to watch me finger-fuck myself, don't you, baby? Well, that's what I want, too."

Sharon slid her hand into her pubic hair and spread her fingers. She moved them up and down alongside her outer lips, spreading the wetness on them and wetting her fingers. Her fingers moved upward slightly and stretched the protective hood away from her very pronounced clit.

Even without a closeup, her clit was clearly visible, sticking up like a miniature penis. She positioned her hand so with her clit still visible to the camera, her thumb was along the left side of it and her index finger was along the right side. She began rubbing and applying inward pressure to the sides. The effect was to make her clit stick out even more. She was, as best she was able, emulating my stroking of my cock.

The fervor and effect of my stroking intensified, and now my sounds had turned to gasping moans. What should have been words were nothing but sounds of pleasure.

Sharon responded in kind, her lower abdomen just above her mound jerking with her spasmodic breathing as the sex urges inside her struggled to the surface.

She had been propped up on her left elbow, but now she laid down on her back. Her prone body was still in the camera's frame, and every breath she took, every gasp, every squeak or cry of pleasure picked up by the microphone. Her face was rolled to one side so she was still facing the camera and still looking at her own screen to watch me.

Now while her right hand was still flicking and squeezing her clit, her left hand eased to her pussy. With no hesitation she slid her left middle and ring fingers in and out of her wet cunt. The microphone picked up the squishing sound perfectly.

She gasped out words intermittently.