The Uninvited House Guest
I knew that this call from my brother was going to end up with me in front of my computer, so I meandered back in that direction, pit-stopping at the fridge for another beer. I took the last swig from the first and left the empty in the sink. I immediately took half of the second one down in almost one pull. Sawyer was already with one of her own and another for me. I took the third one and was happy to see it still closed. I was just about done with number two when the Skype popped up on my computer again. I needed to minimize a half a dozen screens to get the box where I wanted before answering again.
"Bro, WHAT. THE. FUCK?!" as all Jim's frowning face came up with when I finally clicked 'answer'.
"I'm sorry man, what's up?"
"I've been looking for you all day!"
"It's my weekend off, Jim, I was sleeping in. You remember what that's like, right, Asshole?
"Whatever, slacker... Hey where the fuck are you? I don't need to see your sweaty homage to a collage frat house."
"What? Oh, shit, sorry, I was moving stuff around and the camera got moved, too. Besides, that couch cost more than half of what you paid me for my first game." My brother and I share a unique relationship. We insult each other to prove who loves the other more... Or who's least 'Gay'... Brothers... Am I right?
I completely forgot about my slumber party straggler while riffing with Jim.
"It cost HOW MUCH?!" Sawyer said, coming into view while dragging my office chair's ottoman over to sit on, completely in view of the camera, seemingly memorizing my older brother's contribution to the Spyke conversation.
"So that's why you look like Spring Break in Tijuana?! Were you trying on each other's dresses all night?" Jim said, not slowing down his show of affection. His eyebrows showed me he was impressed, though. Maybe it's what we don't say/say that shows the love?
"He was busy gettin' the three of us out of our swim suits last night." She said right into the camera.
I almost choked on another swig and overly cleared my throat.
"Sawyer, this is walking Pussy is my brother, Jamey."
"Don't call me that, Fucktard. James or Jim, if you prefer, Miss Sawyer."
"Jimmy, why are you buggin' poor Alex, here?" Sawyer said not missing an opportunity to join the Boy's Club in her own way.
"Well Ginger, it seems that Alex "the Stud" here, never sent us the complete coding noted on PO'd Pigs. Now we need to make sure he still has it all and can send it to us again." Jim fired back with a smile on his face staring back at his camera.
"Fuck me..." I said
"No thanks!!" and "Again?!" they said over each other.
"Look, Alex, We have a Tech adviser coming over to drop a hard line into our system for you so you don't need to compress your files and yada-yada geek speak bullshit anymore. They will be over in a few hours with your security FOB and some other shit. Be nice. Larry is still pissed off at you from the last time."
"Larry is a tool and tried to convince me that Time Travelers walk among us. He's probably exactly the type of geek you think I am." I said.
"You're prettier and have a lot more money that him. You can hide it better." He said in return.
"That almost sounded like a compliment, Alex." Sawyer chided.
"Almost, Red. Almost doesn't count for anything. Anyway, Be nice to the Tech and stay out of the way. I don't want anymore fuck ups."
"Blow me." I barked poorly stifling a smile.
"Okay!" Sawyer said stroking my inner thigh. I just now noticed that she didn't put her bikini bottoms back on under the beach sarong. I'd been unconsciously stroking her hip and ass with my arm around her during the whole conversation.
Jim looked at me with squinted eyes and said "Call your Mother."
"It's funny, I feel like I was just talking to her."
"Oh, FUCK. Yo-" * click * I cut him off as his come back fell short.
(The Tech will be there between 2:30 and 3, asshole. Clean yourself up and act like the millionaire you pretend to NOT be.) Was Jim's final swipe at me. I already had my mouth on Sawyer's neck when the Spyke text came through, but she saw it.
"Alex... Alex baby, hold on." She mumbled.
"What?" I said looking up tracing her gaze to the screen. "Oh... well, damn..."
"Why are you slumming on the night shift at a hotel for fourteen dollars an hour when you're RICH?!"
"Who the FUCK makes $14/hr? Do you get paid that much?!" I skeptically shot back.
"Don't change the subject, Casanova." She said a little too sarcastically.
"I'm well off. I'm not really rich. The term 'millionaire' means if I liquidated all of my assets, I'd have a lump sum of over one million dollars. Rich is something I'm not. Not really."
I could tell the math meant nothing to her. She was still letting the wheels turn in her head. She got lost in some fantasies of exotic trips or a new car, but then it looked like she settled on my humble living and was impressed.
" So you still work because...?"
"I want to? It gives me time to work in peace and helps me keep a schedule. I know I probably don't have to work anymore, but it also helps me keep the games and work separate. There's WORK and there's making GAMES. I don't want it to turn into my job. Jobs aren't fun." I probably over explained it to her and you probably already got the jist of it if you read the earlier chapters, but I still have to say it to myself sometimes to keep it forward in my mind.
It was at this moment, that Sawyer made me realize that I was no longer living a loser's life.
"Ya know, the girls and I thought it would be nice to come over and help you celebrate your little house warming. We had NO idea that you'd be shacked up in this house. We all know we were never close at work, mostly because of the scheduling, but we all liked you just fine. We never bugged you about yer love life er nothin because you looked so lonely and tired all the time. You were pegged as a nice loser that worked real hard. Now, we know different. You coulda been partyin and sleepin around and been the envy of the whole department. If management knew that you had all this programmin shi... stuff... down, you coulda moved to days and got a big raise. You didn't want any of that, did you? You're pretty amazing. I should tell you to wear a cape, but something tells me you already own one, ya nerd."
That was the most Sawyer ever said to me at one time. There was no sexy talk or bossy work bullshit in there; just real Southern sounding classy shit.
After a long pause she finally said to me "You're alright, Alex." suddenly sounding less Southern and much, much softer. I'm gonna take another shower before your play date gets here."
"I think I'll join you." I said after finally breaking my pensive trance.
I managed to grab my Home Manager Tablet off of it's cradle and followed her to my bathroom. One of my favorite parts of this house is the Master suite bathroom. Finally, a bathtub large enough for my long and pudgy ass as well as a shower stall that I don't have to worry about knocking into cold tile walls or touching the slimy curtain. This baby would be a snuff fit if all four of us were in there at the same time, but Sawyer and I had plenty of room to stretch and play.
The Tablet stood on it's own legged frame on the counter top and luckily, neither it nor the shower glass fogged up. I could see the security cameras cycle and hear any intercom interactions from the shower. I was hoping that the Tech wouldn't show up early.
None of my shower stuff was designed for a lady's use, so Sawyer focused on me. There's two shelves in the stall large enough to sit on. She eased me down once the tiles were nice and warm from the cascading water. She decided that top to bottom was the best course of action if she were going to give me her best "Southern Hospitality" treatment. She washed my hair, my neck and my shoulders first while I was seated, given my significant height advantage. When she stood me up, she focused on my nipples, making sure that the space between the studs running through them were clear of any fuzz or dirt. She eased her way to my abdomen, which has more "love" on them than I'd like, but she didn't mind. You can already guess that not having a six pack was not a deal breaker for her or her buddies. She had me turn around and face the wall. I instinctively "assumed the position", being raised in NYC. She giggled and even kicked my feet apart for better access. After making sure my back and ass were thoroughly squeaky clean, she began massaging my foamy body wash into my balls and shaft from behind. Her kisses were clearly felt on my mid back even after the water washed them away.
I was fully hard again when I finally turned around and grabbed her waist. I lifted her up and slammed her into the wall, my hand padding her head and neck from the unforgiving tiles. As she slid down the warm wall, she easily slid right onto my cock. Our ministrations were neither loving nor fuck-like they were precise and deliberate. There was no worries of over doing it with a virgin goody-goody and no fear of hurting a much smaller frame. We met each other at each thrust, even with her suspended in the air with her legs wrapped around the backs of my thighs. In fact, she could almost stand up and slam down on me with her powerful legs gripping me that way; flesh slick with water be damned.