Saya Montague's Long Night

Saya lounged in an old leather chair, staring out the window of the Montague Detective Agency. She had been in Neo New Fairfield for only a few weeks, and she had already begun to regret her decision. Saya could never understand why Isadora had set up her Agency in the lower city. NeoLow, as its residents called it, was unquestionably a slum in her eyes. The poor, the desperate, and the vile made their homes in this wet cavern city under the near utopian upper city. As simulated rain crossed the window she realized she'd seen the UV systems for the city turned on for a few hours every day. For a period of time that must be less than what is recommended. Saya hated this town.

She knew Isadora wouldn't be back anytime soon. Saya had asked Isadora often why she hadn't returned to her parent's estate, why she saw the need to toil in the grime and the muck as it were.

"Does it matter whether or not you spy on the cheating spouses of the rich or the poor?" Saya had once remarked to her cousin over a late night glass of gin. Isadora had been injured that night, her cybernetic arm had been heavily damaged. Saya had helped her detach it from her shoulder joint, and tended to Isadora's cuts and welts.

"I don't spy on cheaters Saya. A back-alley chop doc had the youngest Mulroon boy at his shop. I was hired to retrieve him for the family." The contents of Isadora's glass disappeared.

Saya hadn't known what to think about that. She hadn't seen her cousin since college. She had known her cousin to be vain and flighty. She had her eyes on being an international prize fighter before the accident that claimed Isadora's arm and legs. The augmentations were a gift, Saya knew. A gift from Isadora's former girlfriend. Saya poured herself a glass of gin, and continued to watch the rain fall outside the window.

Why had Saya come to see her, after all these years? She took a sip, and began tapping her fingers against her glass. Isadora and Saya were never close. Saya was raised on Estival, a manmade island of the coast of Brazil, while Isadora was raised in America. They saw each other at family functions, but it was hard to say they were close.

"Because she knows what she is doing with her life, and you don't." Saya said quietly. Saya finished her glass and set it down on Isadora's desk. Just then she heard a crash from beyond the front door. Saya ducked down quickly behind the desk. Several thuds resounded from the door before she heard two distinct voices, laughing. One was clearly a man's, the other a husky feminine voice. After some aggressive jingling the door flung open. Saya crawled under the desk.

Saya began to run through nightmare scenarios in her mind of gutter trash breaking into the office. Saya wasn't a fighter like Isadora, she wasn't ready to defend her cousin's home. As she heard a hard crash that sounded a lot like a screen hitting the floor she decided that her cousin would just have to deal with things in the morning. She watched as two sets of legs stumbled over to the desk she was hiding under with terror. Saya could hear the rub of skin against skin, and moist sounds of kissing. The woman let out a moan that sounded more like a purr, and then a heavy tan trenchcoat splorched onto the floor beside them.

'Isadora?' Saya thought to herself, as a familiar set of brass knuckles tumbled out of a coat pocket. Saya's fears changed from a concern for survival to the discomfort of being discovered. Wet clothing made it was to the floor with an almost wild abandon. Saya's face began to flush as the once sloppy, messy sounds of kissing calmed into a more enduring, passionate tone.

"Say nothing," her cousin commanded. Saya could hear the patter of lips against skin as the man lowered himself onto his knees. She couldn't help but admire the sculpted ass a mere two feet away from her. Saya's face completed its transformation to cherry red, as her cousin spoke again.

"You may place your lips to mine," Isadora's voice was firm, but warm. Soft moans escaped Isadora's lips. Saya had no choice, she thought, to listen. She could not see what was happening, but she could assume. Saya imagined this man's tongue piercing her cousin's snatch. The image was more vivid than she was prepared for, maybe it was the gin. She didn't find herself shying away from the thought of a tongue tracing over the outer lips of her cousin's pussy, slow sliding in deep, the rising and curling before popping out and finding her love nub. Saya felt her nipples harden at the thought, growing as her cousin's moans grew louder. He must have found her clit, Saya hoped. She placed one of her hands between her legs. Through her loose skirt she could feel herself begin to moisten.

Saya startled as Isadora's fist slammed on top of the desk. The man stood up, and the two walked from the desk to Isadora's bedroom. Saya heard their heavy bodies fall onto the bed. She thought about following. How could she follow her cousin? How could she continue to invade her cousin's personal moments she asked herself as she reached up for the bottle of gin. After taking a long pull, she decided she could because she wanted to. That is what Isadora would do, so that is what she will do. She slowly crept out from under the desk, and crawled over to her cousin's door. She had a better view were she could see the man was normal, or rather he was unaugmented. Saya had always assumed that Isadora had pursued men like her. Of course, she had heard about her cousin's purported nature, an incorrigible tease.

Saya reflected that the rumors may not be true, as she watched her cousin tie her shoulder length thick black hair into a bun before leaning down between the young man's legs. Isadora sloppily ran her tongue up his shaft. She moved to wrap her right cybernetic hand around his member, but caught the paniced look in the man's eyes. Isadora giggled, and ran her left index finger gingerly around his testicles, down and up her perineum slowly. The man shuddered. He looked at Isadora pleadingly, but kept his mouth shut as instructed. Isadora giggled again, and wrapped her left hand around she shaft.

Saya's hands made their way under her cloths. One had delved deep into her panties, tenderly running up and down the folds of her slick snatch. Her other hand massaged her breast, teasing her nipples. She didn't dare to be too aggressive with herself, she might get caught, but the thrill magnified the high she was beginning to feel. She watched Isadora work the man's shaft. She pumped slowly, her eyes locked with his.

"In my night table is a condom, and a bottle a lube. Pass it to me, handsome."

The man began to breathe heavily, but nodded. He reach over to the night table and produced the requested items. Isadora released his beet red member, and tore open the condom. She rolled it down his shaft with some urgency, then squirted the lube in her hand. Isadora's fingers went to her snatch, and she began to rub herself in front of him. As the man started to move Isadora raised her hand, motioning for him to stop as she worked her fingers in and out of her cunt a jackhammer's pace. She began to quiver, then met his eyes again. A wolf's grin spread across her lips as she climbed over him.

Saya watched as Isadora lowered herself onto the man's rigid cock. Saya swallowed her breath as Isadora engulfed the man. A long, pleasant groan escaped Isadora. She took the man's hands and placed them on her cybernetic thighs. He seemed hesitant at first, but soon began to rub his hands up and down the smooth metal. Isadora began to work her hips slowly. Saya imagined what it must have felt like to have the man inside of her. Her cousin placed her hands on the man's chest, and began to ride the man. Saya plunged two fingers into her moist twat.

Saya imagined herself wrapped around his cock. It looked to have an exciting length. She wasn't like Isadora, who seemed to need to be in control. Saya sometimes enjoyed being more docile. Saya imagined that she was bent over her cousin's desk, the man's cock pressing into her from behind. His rough hands running over her tight ass. Saya's own breath began to quicken as her fingers rapidly entered her, curling inside her. Her thumb wildly caressed her clit. Saya imagined the man slapping her on her ass, beginning to fuck her roughly. She listened to Isadora's moans, and watch the man's face. Isadora had his unbridled attention. Her moans sent shivers down Saya's spine. He began to moan but was quickly silenced by Isadora's hand.

Isadora watched the man's hands travel up to her cousins' well rounded ass. He squeezed her cheeks as she vigorously rode his cock. Saya moaned with need, struggling to keep herself quiet. Saya became desperate and closed her eyes. In her mind the man grabbed her breasts. His body overlapped hers, and she could feel every contour of his frame as he rode her over that desk. He squeezed her mounds, teased her nipples, and bit her on the neck. Her body quivered as waves of ecstasy radiated from her center. Saya's rigid body went limp on the floor of her cousin's office as her orgasm washed over her.

Saya caught her breath, and to her amazement when she looked back into the room her cousin was still going. Her hand covering the man's mouth, pushing his head up. Saya took the opportunity to sneak away to the side room she was staying in. Saya quietly closed the door behind her and discarded her soiled cloths. She laid down on the old couch ready to sleep and closed her eyes. She did not miss Isadora's cry of passion. Saya didn't miss any of them as the night went on.

The next morning, Saya made her way out of her room. The piles of cloths in front of the desk were cleaned up. The bottle of gin she had left underneath had miraculously made it's away above. Her cousin sat her kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Isadora was a vision of professionalism, if your idea of professionalism was a pulp private eye. Losose slacks, a white button up, a brown tie tied with a Windsor knot underneath a tan trench coat. Saya felt a little schlubbish in comparison, in an overly large t-shirt and a pair of panties. She poured herself a cup and sat down at the table. Sleeping the night before had been a struggle.

Isadora chuckled, and made a crescent motion under her eyes, indicating that Saya's bags were noticeable. Saya raised her middle finger to her cousin.

"I can give you his number if you want. He's very professional," Isadora stated matter-of-factly as she sipped from her cup.