"This thing moves disturbingly fast," Val said, bracing herself against the dash and door with several of her hands.
"That's what the seatbelt's for."
"I am wearing it, as you instructed, and this is still most uncomfortable."
"These things are pretty safe. You shouldn't worry." It didn't help she was a tall, muscular woman. She hardly fit in the sedan front seat.
"It is not the prospect of injury that alarms me. This body can take quite a bit of punishment. I simply do not like not being in control."
"Well, maybe I can teach you to drive. Later. For now, stop fidgeting in your seat! It's distracting."
Her fidgeting lessened, but only slightly. Luckily, they were almost at Allen's place. Allen gripped the wheel harder and let out a long breath. Hopefully she wasn't disgusted or disappointed by the measly apartment he called a home. From the bracers and wristbands on her arms, she looked to be used to much more luxurious accommodations. It would make sense that a spirit of her station would get special treatment.
A hundred other questions ran through Allen's head. Where would she sleep? Would he need to find long-term lodging? How could he pay for food for two people? Would she be bitchy about the place? What if the apartment management stopped by and she was kicked out? What if the government found out? Allen forced the heavy thoughts from his head as he pulled up into one of the tiny parking spots in front of his apartment complex. A bout of rough coughs escaped his throat, giving him pause before getting out of the car. He'd deal with those things as they came.
Val wasted no timed escaping the small metal prison of Allen's car, taking a deep breath as she stepped out. The car door closed of its own accord behind her, making Allen wince. She must've used one of her invisible hands. Hopefully that was a habit she could break herself of before it got her—no, wait,
them
—into trouble. Allen was part of this now.
"C'mon, Val, my place is this way."
She walked alongside him as they made their way to his apartment. Val took in her surroundings like someone dying of thirst would water. "Each of these doors is a separate dwelling?" she asked.
"Yeah. Some are bigger than others, but the approximate size is the same."
"What sort of variations are there?"
Allen slowed, raising an eyebrow at Val. "Didn't you learn all this from me already?"
"I endeavored to only read what was absolutely necessary. I learned of cars and apartment complexes, for example, but I did not research many specifics, such as the layout of an apartment."
"There are just two types of layouts in this building: studio and 2-bedroom apartments. Mine's a studio, since I don't have a roommate. Pretty basic stuff. Here." Allen stopped. 212. Home sweet home. He fumbled with his keys, moving them toward the lock. Before he could get them in, though, he dropped them, cursing to himself. He started to bend down to pick them up, but found them floating up to his hand before he could. Val flashed a smile at him when he looked at her. Mumbling a thanks, he finally got the keys in and opened the door, hurrying Val in.
Quickly locking the apartment door behind him, Allen scrambled to clean up a few minor things while Val was looking elsewhere. This was hardly the way to introduce a lady to his place, but the circumstances were extreme. It would have to do.
The studio apartment boasted a long, albeit not very wide entry room doubling as a bedroom. To the right, immediately after the door, was Allen's aging double bed, covered with a thick, black comforter and white sheets underneath. At the foot of the bed lied a desk, one Allen had bumped his toes on too many times getting up in the morning. His dusty computer and monitor sat on the desk next to his 36" TV. His couch occupied the opposite wall, rivulets for three of Val's invisible hands forming across it as she walked by. It probably smelled of nachos; Allen knew he didn't clean it as much as he should. At the end of the entry room, a window let the moonlight and sounds of passing cars in. It was just high enough on the wall Allen had to stand uncomfortably on his toes to see out it well and sunlight hit his eyes when he got up in the morning. Allen never forgave the building architect that.
To the left were doors for his bathroom and kitchen, as well as his closet. His poor closet was stuffed with clothes, a mystery to Allen given he didn't have enough money to shop for clothes often and the closet itself wasn't really that small. It was almost like the clothing reproduced on its own.
Allen pointed at Val's invisible arms where they touched his couch. "You know you can't be doin' that out in the open. People see stuff levitating and they'll start asking questions."
"Yes, that wouldn't be prudent. I will try to avoid using my extra arms in public. And you're welcome about the keys."
Val walked around the small boding with a slow, even stride, rocking back and forth along the balls of her feet as she inspected the place.
"What is this?" asked Val, pointing into the kitchen.
"Refrigerator. Keeps things cold. That right there is the oven. Makes things hot. Sink, dishrack, cabinets, yadda yadda." He went over the kitchen tour quickly, then pulled her to the next thing.
Might as well make this fast.
"Bathroom. I hope you learned how to use that from your mind-fuck cause I sure as hell ain't laying it out for you. Toilet, sink, shower," he said, pointing to each as he spoke. "Over here is the closet. Clothes and other boring things in there. Then out here's the bed, the couch, and the TV."
"I am familiar with the TV as it functions, but not the significance of having one."
"It kills time and entertains me. People have 'em for different reasons. Sometimes, people come over and we watch it together. Social thing."
Val put a hand to her chin and nodded, staring at the TV a moment before looking to Allen. "Is this place private? I would like to relax my other arms. It is somewhat uncomfortable to hold all of them invisible against my stomach."
He walked over to the blinds on the single small window looking in and closed them, nodding to Val. "Now it is."
Sighing, Val allowed her arms to become visible again. The clothing on her disappeared as well, now back to the thin strips of silk that left little to the imagination. Allen caught himself staring wide-eyed at her figure and looked away before she noticed. He forgot what clothing—or lack thereof—could do for a woman, eight arms or not. Her long legs were like tree trucks, ending in astounding hips that Allen figured could break a door down if Val shook them at one. Her hourglass figure screamed femininity and salacity, almost as if it was asking for Allen to adore it. When he recalled how quickly and efficiently her body had gotten him off earlier, his heart began to race.
"So, listen, it's pretty damn late and I have to go to work tomorrow. Actually, in four hours. I'd love to be a more accommodating host but things just don't work out that way when I've got bills to pay. It's Friday, so after work I can help you with whatever, assuming you need help. I'm going to take a quick shower then I'm going to sleep. Questions?"
Val crossed three sets of arms under those bountiful breasts of hers, pursing her lips then shaking her head. "Nothing that can't wait."
"Good. Help yourself to whatever. I don't really know how much you know already. Don't break anything."
Allen rushed off to the bathroom, pajamas in hand, and closed the door a bit harder than he meant to. He scrambled to turn the water on and hopped in right away, not caring about the initially-cold stream hitting his aching body. Once the curtain was closed and the water warmed up a bit, he finally allowed himself some respite.
Looking down to his aching erection, he frowned. Living with her, no matter how long or short, would be hard, especially if she insisted on that silk 'clothing' that hardly covered anything and revealed those eight finely-toned, slender, dexterous arms. He could picture that moment, back in the ancient underground room, her four hands massaging and stroking his cock with perfect attention and skill. No handjob had any right feeling that good, sex-spirit or not.
