The Agent
Author's Note: I'm about to have surgery again on my hands. To write I used a talk to text program that isn't always accurate. If you like my work, please consider helping me edit so I can publish the dozens of backlogged stories in this series.
For Rachel
World War T is a series of independent, vaguely interconnected stories about different tentacle monsters invading Earth, very much an erotic homage to World War Z. These short stories do not need to be read sequentially.
Their two naked bodies coupled together, tentacles sliding seamlessly around their intertwined bodies. The girls hugged their hips together, nipples pressed against each other as one of the creatures enjoyed the pair, inserting its cocks into both of them.
They had been in the oversized aquarium for nearly an hour, splashing and fucking as Mel Mercer poured over the books, making the occassional phone call as he made the effort to ignore his master.
The tentacles continued pumping load after load into the twins in the tank.
The intercom buzzed.
"Mr. Mercer," his secretary sang out. "Mr. Jennings to see you."
"Send him up."
Mercer went to the mini-fridge, pulling out a single ice cube for his scotch. He placed another empty tumbler in the chair across from him, taking a large gulp while waiting for his new liason to enter.
This was the hard part, seeing their reaction for the first time brought it all back.
It had been such a short time, and he'd been able to forget, Like a proper businessman, Mercer adjusted to life without asking any questions that might jeopardize his profit.
Now he had to watch, to shepherd another associate through the shock of seeing these things. He had to soothe, to explain, to field questions he hadn't asked.
Because he didn't want to know the answers.
Oh... Mercer knew more than he would let himself admit out loud or even in his own head. But he had always been much more skilled at avoidance.
"I... I just can't... they're... they're real?"
"Have a drink," Mercer said. "It will help."
But the man remained gape-jawed, staring as the monster moved its ridged and bumpy arms inside of each of the girls. They moved together, their lips joined around an appendage diverting into two cockheads, each long enough to fit down each girl's throat.
"How do they breathe?"
Mercer laughed.
Sometimes they asked the easiest things first.
"The aliens have certain mental powers," Mercer said. "Either that, or they just funnel the oxygen straight through those things."
The sisters sucked greedily, their heads craned up towards the top of the tank as if they were pushing up for oxygen. They swallowed each inch just as eagerily, their hands exploring each other's bodies, finding the small spaces where nothing coiled around their curves.
Jennings found himself unable to focus, staring at those voluptuous breasts with lust, free-floating without the limitation of gravity. He could see their nipples, identical small hardened dots, rubbing together as they bucked their hips together, trying to shove more and more of the monster inside.
"Go ahead and ask your questions," Mercer said.
"You want me, you want me to send girls to these... these things?"
Jennings looked like he was going to be sick.
"Oh no... not at all, not anymore," Mercer said, predicting the next question. "There's really no need."
He looked at his watch.
"Five minutes and it will finish with the twins, and both will only want more. Lucky for me that's been arranged.I believe you've met Miss Knox downstairs..."
Jennings gulped, thinking about the foxy brunette, her eyes knowing behind those stylish glasses.
"You're.. You're going to let it use your secretary?"
