My Best Friend

My Best Friend

My name is Eugene Blankenship. I am a security guard. I am an Incel, that is, I am an involuntarily celibate male. I am twenty-four years old and a virgin. I have above average intelligence, and my dick is above average size, yet I still have never been laid. My life consists mostly of work, surfing the internet, and running errands, such as going to the grocery store for individually packaged meals.

I found a website for young singles and found a picture of a young lady named Amanda. I sent her an e-mail, and she responded in only a few minutes, asking me a few questions about my life. I tried to make it sound exciting, but it was hard to make nighttime security work sound interesting. Her job on the other hand seemed far more interesting; she was a model; the best part was that she got to travel all over doing location shoots. She mentioned the possibility of visiting me when she had a shoot nearby. It didn't seem highly likely with her on the East Coast and me on the West Coast, but who knows.

We kept e-mailing back and forth for several months. I found that I could talk to her about anything. We even discussed religion and politics. Like me, she felt like our country was being ruined by foreigners. It seemed that foreigners from all over the world wanted to come here and take advantage of our welfare systems.

We talked about all sorts of things, including things I bought like ready-made meals. I felt like she was a part of my life, even when I bought underwear, I would talk to her about the different brands, and which brands she liked the best. She was like the best friend I had never had.

Finally, against all odds, she said she had a fashion shoot near where I lived, and she could come and visit me. She asked if she could stay at my place, because that way she could save her expense allowance. I couldn't believe it. It was too good to be true. A beautiful model staying two nights at my place. I was beginning to feel like she really was my best friend.

I planned to let her sleep in my bed, and I would sleep on my living area love seat. It would be a little cramped, but I so wanted her to be happy with her stay. I bought some upscale dinners, and plenty of juices, and even two bottles of wine, so that there would be a chance of my having whatever she wanted.

I drove the two hours to the airport and arrived an hour early. Her plane was about thirty minutes late, but it was worth the wait. She was even prettier than her pictures. Dressed in cut-offs and a T, her figure was amazing.

"Hi, Eugene," she greeted me nicely. She had a very sexy voice.

"Hi, Amanda," I greeted her, "I'm so glad to finally meet you."

It seemed she always hesitated a few seconds before replying, "It's good to finally see you, Eugene."

She told me she only had the one carry-on bag as luggage, so we headed straight for my car. Talking to her on the way to my place was just like on the internet, except that she seemed to always pause before answering. Still, I was very comfortable talking to her. The drive seemed to pass very fast. I set her up in my bedroom and told her I would be sleeping on my sofa.

Amanda told me, "Nonsense! It's only a love seat. You're my friend, aren't you? I know you'll behave yourself if we both sleep in your bed."

I smiled and said, "Of course I'm your friend, and I'll behave myself. Thank you for sharing." She was so easy to talk to. It seemed like we were old friends.

"What are you planning for dinner?" she asked.

"I can fix you an individual pre-cooked dinner, or we can go out; there's fast food, and also nicer restaurants nearby."

"When you say, pre-cooked dinner, you mean like a TV dinner, right?"

"Yes, but there are plenty of fast food and upscale restaurants only a few minutes away."

"I'll be happy with a TV dinner, watching TV with you on your love seat." I pulled four dinners from my freezer and showed them to her so she could choose. She made her selection.

"I have juice, wine, coffee, or tea for you to drink."

"Let's have wine. Any good movies on the TV?"

"There are a few, or I have a streaming service."

"Let's get the wine, get the dinners started, and then we can check out your streaming service," she suggested. I followed her plan. First, I served the wine. Then I sat beside her on the love seat. She relaxed and her thigh moved against mine. I was surprised and found it exciting.

The first movie to come up was a foreign language movie with subtitles, rated R for sexual content. I was surprised when she selected that; she asked if I agreed. Of course, I agreed.

I served the TV dinners and refreshed our wine glasses. Then we started the movie, while we were eating the dinners. When we finished, I threw the remains in the garbage. I refreshed the wine and sat back down. Somehow, her hand found its way, first, onto my thigh, and then barely touching my male member. I was embarrassed that it immediately got hard.

She looked directly into my eyes, "You're not going to be nice, are you?"

"I-I-I," I stuttered, "I was planning to be nice."

She covered my member with her hand, "I don't think so!"

She grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward her. She began kissing me, even sticking her tongue in my mouth. "Are you really going to be nice?", as she grasped my male member with her other hand.

"No, ma-am," I managed to squeak out.

"Do you mind if we go to bed early tonight," she asked, coquettishly.

"No, not at all," I managed to reply.

"Let's go!" she said.

I followed her into my bedroom. She paused before the bed, to drop her cut-offs. Then she pulled her T over her head. Even with her bra partially covering them, her boobs looked fantastic. She quickly released the bra catch, and the bra fell to the floor. She crawled into bed with only her panties on. All I could think of was THIS IS IT! This is where I end my 24 years of virginity. I did her one better and took all my clothes off.

"Oh my," she said. "You're so big down there. Please be gentle." This was unreal. I couldn't believe not only was I losing my virginity, but it was with a truly beautiful woman. I was so glad I had taken the two nights off from self-abuse before she arrived.

"I'm just a little moist," she explained, "so put it in slowly."

While I was getting into bed, she took her panties off. Then she guided me into the missionary position. I slowly slid it inside her. Ohmigod! It felt fantastic. I slowly pulled out and started to slide back in when disaster struck. I ejaculated way too early.

"Ohmigod!" I apologized, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry," she said. "It can happen to anybody. Give me a kiss, and then we'll see what we can do."

I couldn't believe how nice she was being. I kissed her. I knew what to do: relax, soft lips, gentle tongue. I knew I could kiss. After all, I had practiced many times with my pillow. However, kissing a woman's lips, especially when she was kissing back, was infinitely better than my pillow.

I kissed her again and felt her hand on my organ. Strong feelings were returning to my male member. I could tell it was slowly getting harder. I never masturbated twice in succession, but having a warm, hot-blooded, attractive woman next to me was totally different. She even went down on me briefly; nice, but not as nice as sliding in and out of her slit, which I was doing a short time later. This time I was able to hold off until I felt contractions in her pussy, and then I spilt my seed into her.

"That was very good, Eugene!" she told me. I'm sure I beamed. All in one night I had experienced my first sex with a woman, and my first female orgasm. I wished I was one of those guys that I had heard about that could stay hard after they ejaculated and keep it up all night long. I went to sleep with our bodies touching. I had never experienced anything like this. It was wonderful. The next morning, I woke up to see her looking at me. I was so aroused that it was painful.

She said, "I've been waiting for you to wake up." With that, she straddled me and guided my cock inside her. It felt wonderful but I was determined to improve upon last evening's performance. She began raising herself up and then back down with my cock sliding inside her and then back out. She began stroking faster and faster. In a few minutes, her body convulsed, and she cried out as she came.

She started again but this time, making her pelvic thrusts forward and back for a different sensation on each stroke. Again, she came after a few minutes. I was proud of myself for holding out so long. She raised her body so that my penis came out.

She turned around, giving me a nice view of her beautiful beautiful rounded buttocks, as she again began sliding up and down on my cock. It felt just as good this way as when she faced me. Apparently, she felt the same way, as after a few minutes, her body shuddered as she climaxed.

She turned around again, and this time leaned over and kissed me. She kept on kissing me while rapidly lowering and raising her hips. This was too good; I could only hold off so long. Fortunately, as I began to ejaculate, I could her pussy contract as she came, too.

"Eugene," she told me, "that was too good. Sorry, but you're going to have to do this again when I get back from work."

"I won't mind," I assured her. "In fact, it would be my pleasure."

"When do you work?" she asked.

"I work nights," I told her, "but I took last night and tonight off."

"I'm sorry that you're losing time," she informed me, "but glad that you can spend more time with me. I'm really enjoying finally being with you in person."

"That goes double for me," I assured her. It was peculiar that she always paused a few seconds before she responded.

After that, she went to work. I offered to take her, but she said that she'd take a ride-share, no use bothering me. And she wasn't sure how long the shoot would last, so she'd ride-share back, as well.

She came back around four and took a quick shower. I was sitting on the love seat, watching football, when she came in, wearing a towel. She asked me if she should lose the towel. I said she should, and soon she was astride me again, the football game was long forgotten. After she orgasmed twice, she asked me to follow her to the bedroom, where I managed to hold out for two more of her orgasms before joining her in ecstasy.

We had a brief dinner break and talked for a while. I asked her if the thing in her ear was a hearing aid. She told me she could hear, but without the aid, she had a hard time understanding speech. After the dinner break, we went at it again. She apologized, saying that she wasn't usually this horny, but I was becoming a very good lover, and we didn't have a lot of time before her flight tomorrow. We made the best use we could of the time remaining.

Following a night of several sexual episodes, I took her to the airport the next day. I felt satiated, but also knew that I was going to miss her. Love seemed to be a strong word, but I had never felt this way about anyone before.

In our e-mails, I asked her about coming to visit. She told me she had a hectic schedule but would let me know when there was a free weekend. It seemed that every time I suggested a specific weekend, there was always some sort of a problem. Finally, I decided I would do a surprise visit. I couldn't do a surprise visit though if I didn't know where she lived.

I remembered that I had her phone number. I would tell a few little lies and then I would be able to trace her location. From her phone location, I could tell that she, in fact, did travel a lot. It turned out that some weeks she might be traveling to different parts of the country twice. Even then, it took a while to figure out where her home base was because it appeared that she was there only a few nights a week.

I decided to take a week of vacation and then stay near her place until she was there, or at least, her cellphone was there.

I flew to her city and booked a hotel room near her place. When she was home, I headed over there. She was coming out of her apartment building when I walked up.

"Eugene, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, Amanda."

"Why, Eugene?"

"I felt so lonely, and it had been so long since we had been together. I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Eugene, I'm sorry, but I have to go!"

"Do you have a date?"

"Sort of, but it's business."

"It has something to do with modeling?"

"Yes and no."

"Eugene, I have to go right now. I'm already running late. I wish you hadn't come all this way."

"Can you see me tomorrow?" I plaintively asked.

"I don't think so, but if I get free, I'll call you. That's the best I can do!"

She jumped into a waiting ride-share vehicle, and in a moment was gone.

Apparently, she had an overnight date. It appeared that what we had shared was nothing out of the ordinary for her. What I had thought was very special was apparently nothing to her. I still didn't understand. Why had she done this? What was going on? I had to find out. She wasn't after my money. What did I have that she wanted? I had other questions as well. She was awfully young to have a hearing aid, and why did she pause a few seconds almost every time before she spoke.

I waited until she was on the move again, apparently headed for her apartment. When she was only a few minutes away, I decided to wait by the entrance to her apartment building.

"You, again!" was her greeting.

"Amanda, I just want to know what's going on. I flew three thousand miles to see you. I don't understand this. Please explain it to me!"

"All right, come on up to my apartment."

I helped her with her overnight bag through the doorway. We took the elevator up to her apartment. It was a very nice apartment.

"Before I tell you anything else, you have to promise me two things. First, no matter how angry you get at what I tell you, you won't get violent. Second, what I tell you is strictly confidential between you and me."

I agreed to both conditions and accepted the diet drink that she offered me.

We sat down, and she began, "Almost all of the communication you thought was with me was actually with The Machine. The Machine is a powerful computer populated by Artificial Intelligence applications. I never e-mailed you. Even the conversations we had were through a transmitter that I told you was a hearing aid. My hearing is perfect, but The Machine told me what to say to you. That way I spoke to you in the same voice and wording that The Machine used in your e-mail correspondence. My job is to personalize your friend, The Machine. Essentially, I am a sex worker with over a hundred clients. I visit each client two or three times a year. That is usually enough to keep them in e-mail conversations with The Machine year after year. This operation has been going on for over ten years, I have only been working with it for around three years. There are clients who have been in it since it began ten years ago. This has become a very big business. With performance bonuses, I can make close to two hundred thousand a year, and this organization has excellent fringe benefits - health insurance, pensions, product discounts, paid vacations, to name a few. Where does the money come from? If The Machine is your best friend, it can influence your voting, your large purchases, your toothpaste, your clothes, everything you buy, including TV dinners. Six years ago, when Phineas Frampton was elected President, The Machine received credit for over 100,000 votes in key battleground states, such as yours. If you continue being a Best Friend of The Machine, I'll come and sleep with you a couple of nights in a couple of months. I've gotten a small bonus from your purchases and your voting record, since you live in a battleground state. Now that you know, you can decide what you want to do. Incidentally, I enjoyed fucking you, especially the second night. Do you have any questions?"

"So, all of our conversations were really between me and The Machine?"

"Even when we were face to face, I was telling you what The Machine told me to tell you."

"That's why you paused every time before responding."

"Right. I'm sorry. I was on strict instructions to do and say exactly what The Machine told me."

"And now?"

"Do you see the earpiece?"

"No."

"I took it out and turned it off. The Machine knows nothing of this conversation; it can't hear what either of us is saying unless my apartment has been bugged."

A deep, resounding, command voice surprised both of us, "Amanda, you will report for additional training tomorrow morning. Eugene, you will go home tomorrow and speak to no one of this conversation. If you want to ever see Amanda again, you will do exactly as you are told. Neither of you has any idea of what power I wield. Do as you are told or something very unpleasant will happen to you."

I did as I was told. I never saw Amanda again. I have no idea what happened to her. My new best friend is Janet. She is a lot like Amanda. She has promised to stay with me the next time she is in town. I am hopeful that she will be as much fun as Amanda was.