Ai Era: a Nerd Girl's Story

Note to non-nerd readers: to help you navigate through Gracie's world, I have published a glossary of special terms

here

, which covers Gracie's several nerdy interests. Please consult it as needed.

Chapter Nine

"Life is strange," former Dean Weiner said, eyes shiny with tears, "and comes at you fast."

Gracie, for the first time she could remember, had to agree with what Weiner said. She stood next to Paul in the crowd of department faculty, students, and employees that gathered around Weiner. Life had certainly come at her fast and was unexpected, different, and amazing.

Stan and another man who'd been introduced to her as his boyfriend stood nearby, and next to them Hardin was holding hands with a man who could have been his brother, they looked so much alike. To each their own. She liked men like Paul. And also Brady, who was flying in the weekend after next for another visit before moving across the country to a great new job, an irresistible tenure-track position at an Ivy League university. She knew he was making the right decision, but also knew she wouldn't see him as much and would miss him. She was trying to find a way to make this visit extra-special.

Dahlia was not in the crowd. She stood at the front next to Weiner. On his other side stood a large woman in a tight leather dress that covered everywhere except the prominent cleavage of her large breasts that could only be described as magnificent.

"And so it is with the utmost confidence that I pass the torch of learning to Professor Dahlia Moreno, whose contributions will, I'm sure, far outshine my poor efforts and make this department a beacon of computer science research. Please join me in welcoming Dr. Moreno as your new dean." He wiped his eyes while the crowd applauded, then went to the large woman, putting his face right into her cleavage and nuzzling there as if he were her pet dog. She patted his hair.

Dahlia's speech was short. "Thank you, Dr. Weiner, and good luck in your new endeavor." The rumor around the department was that he was joining some kind of secret research institute, but Dahlia had told Gracie the real reason: it turned out that Dean Weiner had all these years been secretly writing romance novels on the side, spending so much time on them that it had been impacting his official duties. He'd decided, at his domme's command, to devote himself full time to his works, which were becoming quite explicit and kinky, and for which he was starting to find a commercial audience. "I'll be meeting with each of you individually over the next few weeks," Dahlia continued, "but let me just say in general that I value each and every one of you as members of the team and I hope to have some exciting new resources and challenges for everyone."

"Let's get back to Maenad," Gracie told Paul as the crowd broke up. "I have a lot of work to do. And you know what that means."

"Looking forward to it," he responded.

# # #

Gracie was working hard. Gracie always worked hard, had always worked hard, but now she was working especially hard. Which was great. She'd never understood when people tried to explain the need for work/life balance to her. Why would she want them to be different?

She'd moved from her little apartment to a new place, the former headquarters of a now-defunct startup that had tried to make the office a second (or maybe primary) residence for its employees, with lounge areas like a five-star boutique hotel, a gourmet kitchen, a complete gym, different kinds of office space themes, even some suites with bed and bath. Damon had found it and it was perfect.

But her new office was much the same as her old, except for a special desk that gave extra room for her men to help her.

Gracie loved to do what she called codesucking, in which she arranged Paul in a convenient position so she could munch on him while coding. Her day was very productive that way; she could go on and on just purely concentrating, going totally nonverbal except for the lines of code she typed in. She had a lot of ideas, which meant a lot of code to input. Paul was really wonderful, letting her torture him endlessly. He was around a lot these days, spending as much time at her place as he did at his, since the basement was filling up with a growing server farm that powered the two startups.

She'd tried the same thing with Brady the one time he'd been able to visit, but Brady couldn't take it. He endured her fellatio as long as he could, but then dragged her to bed in one of the nearby sleeping rooms and fucked her until they were both exhausted. Brady loved to come in her pussy, she liked it too, especially now that she'd taken care of getting pregnant, but she didn't get much work done that day.

They tried code-

fucking

. She got on her hands and knees and Brady fucked her doggy while she worked on her tablet. Or tried to. It was a good exercise in maintaining control, but not productive-- at least in a coding sense.

She found an interesting variation with Paul: she would straddle his face and let him eat her while she coded. When she needed to think about a problem she would move down between his legs (he was, as usual, tied spread eagle on her bed) and suck and think. Then back up onto his tongue while she typed in her solution.

She and Paul tried other positions for codesucking and some of them worked. For example, he would lie on a couch in the lounge with his legs spread. She got between his legs and put her tablet on his stomach. They both liked this a lot because his cock was facing her in just the right position for her tongue to reach his most sensitive parts; and he was willing to hold her tablet for her while she typed and sucked. But sometimes she would forget herself and just diddle that one extremely sensitive spot on him over and over while she concentrated on an idea, and it would cause him to shake so much as he tried to hold out that it became difficult for her to keep her fingers on the keyboard. She'd read somewhere that Einstein had once walked into the Princeton Physics Department and asked the receptionist to tell him where he lived-- it seemed he'd been concentrating so hard on an idea that he couldn't remember. She wasn't anywhere near Einstein's cognitive level, and she'd been doing something very different from walking, but she could relate.

They tried a setup in which Paul sat on the lunchroom table facing her while she sat and worked with her tablet on her lap. That was great for sucking, but she needed to look at her tablet from time to time and had to take her mouth off his cock to do that. So that didn't work. She bought an easy chair similar to the one at Damon's place. That was a good solution. Paul sat in the chair, she knelt on a pillow between his legs, he held her tablet for her, and she sucked and coded. It became their favorite.

Often a work session ended with their kink. She'd told him about how Dahlia had identified it. Paul told her it was his kink too. He felt like a total stud to be making her come while she swallowed his come. She countered that she felt like she owned him when she came that way. He said that he felt the opposite, like he controlled her when he ate her, sort of like owning. They agreed to disagree on who owned whom. Win-win.

She enjoyed Paul but he was one man. Since the conference, one just wasn't enough for her. And Brady couldn't visit often enough. But that was just another problem to solve and Gracie was a born problem solver. She'd found a way to work Damon into her busy schedule.

# # #

"The bi-monthly meeting?" Paul asked, looking her up and down in her business clothes. They were in the lobby of the new place. She carried an exec backpack, way too stylish for her taste, but she needed to look the part. "Did you need something?"

"Yes," she said, "I do," and fell to her knees on the polished marble floor. She'd texted Paul to come to her right after calling for the limo. She was pleased to feel how much better her knees felt in the knee pads she wore concealed in her slacks. When she'd first moved into their new facility she'd tried the classic blow job position with Paul and Brady here in the lobby, as a little housewarming celebration, and had ended up squatting, then moving to the small entry lounge nearby. She could take a submissive position, especially for Brady, but the pain of a hard floor on her knees didn't turn her on.

She knew to the minute how much time she had to play with Paul. She now used a car service: more expensive but way more efficient than a ride share. She knelt, took out his cock, and sucked him to full hardness. She was making use of what she thought of as "white space", one of those small bits of time between larger, focused activities. For example, waiting for the microwave to heat up her snack, or a large file to be processed. Or her limo to arrive and take her to Damon's building.

"I'm horny and I want you to be ready when I get back." She worked on him for a while, with an energy he couldn't take for more than a few minutes. The anticipation of doing Damon again was getting her very hot. "I won't be too long."

Soon he was on the verge of erupting. Her phone beeped. She'd timed it perfectly.

# # #

"Come on, whore! Stop playing with that dick and finish the job you came here for. I know you want it."

Gracie was in Damon's office again-- his new corner office that came with his promotion when he landed the prestigious Athena Neurotechnology account. This time she was here for a lunchtime meeting, her lunch consisting of the tube steak special, soon to followed by dessert, a dollop of fresh sour cream.

He'd taken up her offer of quickies and they were now regular transactions. She was wearing what she thought of as her presentation costume, the white blouse and black pants she thought she'd never wear again after the conference. However, it turned out to be the perfect disguise for a trip through the lobby of Damon's office building and then his department, which at lunchtime often still had people in their cubicles, and finally onto her knees in Damon's office. The kneepads she now put on for her "office work" were critical. The floor of Damon's office was uncarpeted and the quickies weren't always that quick.

She'd mentioned to Paul once that every piece of clothing now seemed to her to be part of a costume. There were her obvious Princess of Mars, Dale Arden, and other more theatrical costumes she used with Paul, but now even her standard clothes seemed like her nerd costume or her student costume. "I'm not sure what I am anymore."

"You are a princess and a goddess," Paul replied in the straightforward way he might when reading her CV. "You should just walk around naked."

Paul was always so sweet. She couldn't arrive naked at Damon's office, but standing outside it, with workers eyeing her as she waited, she felt as good as naked, wondering if any of them might know what went on during her and Damon's meetings. The feeling was especially strong when his door opened and his new assistant-- that receptionist she'd hooked him up with-- looked Gracie up and down as she left.

And here she was now, once again in an office with a cock between her lips. Did she have a kink about office blow jobs? Her sexual history now included a significant list of office fellatio venues: three of her own, at the U., in her old apartment, and in her new place; Damon's old and now new offices; Brady's tiny office up north once. Paul had turned a corner of the basement server farm into his work area, which amounted to his office, and she'd done him there at his desk a few times already since they'd moved in. She needed to check with Dahlia, but she did feel that extra tingle when she serviced a man at work. Work had always been so serious for her. Doing a man there was so transgressive, like those really filthy hentai of a schoolgirl doing her teacher at school, or a nurse doing a patient in a hospital.

Damon's insulting order was on target, though. "Suck me off, whore!" he growled again. She'd started spacing out as she sucked him and had lost track of the time and maybe even where she was and what she was supposed to be doing, which was extracting this businessman's semen in an efficient and high-quality manner, for a fee.

Which brought her back to the present. "Sir," she answered, "you have not yet paid your fee."

He laughed. "Yeah, you love to see the money while you taste the come, don't you?" He took a few Benjamins out of his pocket and unfolded them in front of her. Yes, she was more and more sure that the effects of the videos were cumulative. The sight of cash, especially that denomination, sent her lips diving down his shaft, and she could have been blowing him while bobbing from a bungie jump cord with the bouncing she did on him. She did love to see the money.

The cash, though, was only symbolic. Her salaries from the two startups, plus her growing academic income, left her with a bank account that was growing far beyond her needs. And Damon was doing a good job of investing her income for her. The $100 bills themselves that she was yo-yoing her eager head in front of would be going into an envelope on Dahlia's desk to join the fees Dahlia was also earning from him, and periodically recycled back to a project account. They were together keeping Damon quite busy. He in turn was drawing funds to pay them for their service. It was all very meta.

Even the humiliating dirty talk was meta. Dahlia's concepts of personas and scenes in the app turned out to be more than convenient features. The old Gracie-- it seemed like eons ago, but was only a few months-- had thought there was only one Gracie, but now how many of her were there? She'd stopped wondering which was the real Gracie; they were all real. Even the one right now sucking off a guy in his office while she absorbed his humiliating insults, all for less than the cost of the outfit she wore expressly to service him, was real. The old Gracie had always been a good girl, the best, a straight-A honor student even through college, no drugs, not even a boyfriend until near the end of college. But now...

"Want a bonus?" She didn't quite parse what he was saying, she was so into the scene, concentrating totally on getting this man off. Only when he pulled her off by her hair, not very gently, did she look up and realize he'd been talking to her. "I need to make a phone call," he said through a nasty grin. "Keep me just like that, ready to pop in your expensive mouth, while I do some business." He took out a few more bills to show her.

She could only nod and smile in agreement around his cock.

# # #

On the way back from Damon she texted Paul in the limo:

Running late. 4.2BT.

He knew what she meant. He was waiting for her at the door, naked, the perfect boy toy. He took her pack and led her to the room off the lobby with a chaise lounge, where she lay back and relaxed. He removed her shoes, then her pants and underwear. Between her legs he flashed himself with version 4.2BT, which she'd specially made for him, and began giving her a thorough oral service. She let him take over her body, gasping at the special tricks he did on her, letting out her breath in moans as he worked her, as if he were molding her body out of orgasmic clay.

Servicing Damon always left her in a nearly uncontrollably horny state and this time had been no exception. The phone call he'd made while she blew him was to his car dealer.

"Hi, Cecilia? Yeah, Damon. Got a minute? Great! Let's pull the trigger on the Seven Series." He grabbed Gracie by her hair as he talked and moved her head on and off his cock, not even bothering to look down at her, basically masturbating with her mouth while he bought his new luxury car. Dr. Gracie Bell, PhD, tenured professor, CTO of two trendy startups, was being used as a salesman's sex toy, a human cock sleeve. Shivers went up and down her spine and she tried to make him come, doing her best-- Gracie always did her best, whatever the task-- to be the best cock sleeve any man had ever put his cock in, letting him know how much this turned her on, forcing him pull her off by a fistful of her hair to keep himself from coming too soon.

"All the bells and whistles. Trick it out totally... hmm, good question. Let me think." He pushed her back onto him until she was ready to gag and held her there for a while, silent. The only sound in the office was her strangled hums as she tried her best to put as much pressure on his cock as possible until her body on its own protested her lack of air. He released her, and while she heaved and panted he said, "That black you showed me. What's it called? Arctic Midnight? The really shiny black, that color? Do it." He looked down at her finally and mouthed the same command,

Do it!

She did it. Did him. It didn't hurt to watch the green cash float down around her. She did a rhythm on him guaranteed to get him off. She knew how to finish this man. Or any man.

"Cecilia's great," he said down to Gracie when he put the phone away. "World-class sales skills. Blonde. Nicer tits than yours and much bigger. I'm going to ask her out after she delivers the car. I want to fuck her in the back seat of the Beemer, it's certainly big enough."

He made a picture-snapping gesture. Still sucking, she got her own phone out of a pocket and flashed him. His hips bucked. "Oh, yeah, fuck!" he said and in a series of grunts filled her mouth with spurt after spurt.

# # #

Gracie really loved having sex with two men. Having sex with one man was fine, often more than fine, but the combinations with two men, the intersection of multiple ways for a woman to enjoy them, was beyond mind-expanding. Like now in her headquarters, on her lounge, tasting the come of a man who'd orally used her while another man orally pleased her, to be both whore and princess, to be in Cock Heaven and Pussy Heaven, almost at the same time. It felt like sex with two men, which felt awesome.

She'd wondered once if wanting sex with two men was yet another of her kinks. The kinks were starting to pile up. "No," Dahlia had explained, "wanting sex with two men is not a kink. It's every girl's secret fantasy. You might want to read about Cleopatra and Catherine the Great. Also Catherine's predecessor, Empress Elizabeth. And several crowned female heads of Europe. We women are oppressed and discriminated against every day, everywhere. Any woman who has a chance to do two men at the same time would be a fool to pass it up. Kellen lets me use him that way sometimes. Go for it, Grace, as much as you can. Make a dent in the Universe."

Paul's devoted service was heavenly, but Gracie had her needs. She gently pulled him off. "Stand." She sank to her knees and took his cock, hard of course, in her hands. "Make me come," she said, and began giving him irresistible sucks. But she stopped at the last moment, sat back up on the lounge, and spread her legs for him. He understood. Soon it was her turn to come, which she did enthusiastically on his cock. Paul was an excellent fuck. She could still taste Damon. She'd flashed herself enough times with versions that had her coming when she tasted come that she didn't need to flash herself anymore. She tried, just for fun, to keep from coming, but Paul doubled her up with her legs apart, which he knew she loved. It tightened her pussy around his cock and forced her to give up control. She came hard, multiple times.

Still keeping her spread, not giving her a chance to recover from her orgasms, he climbed up on her and pushed his stiff, soaked cock between her lips. He held her head against the back of the lounge and fucked her mouth. He'd witnessed Brady enjoying her the same way. He knew what she liked men to do to her, so he went deep into her a few times, far enough to threaten her throat. But Paul liked her in his own way. Paul liked to glide his cock in and out over her tongue and she was there for him, sucking just hard enough to curve her tongue around his circumference, making sure she kept her lips, teeth, and palate on him to give him the total experience of everything inside her. She didn't have to do anything but enjoy the delicious cock he fed her. He was still servicing her, just in a different orifice. Dahlia would have said she was giving a new definition to 'blow job queen'. Soon he was filling her mouth, overwhelming the taste of Damon with his own. Damon's blow job, however hot and kinky, had been foreplay.