Blowing off some steam.

The next morning at the breakfast table you were interrupted from usual domestic routine by the furious buzz of your phone. When you picked up the voice of your co-worker Tim came through, frazzled and dismayed.

“Brad,” he said, “how far along are you with the project?”

“A third of the way,” you answered. “I’ve mostly figured it out, but it’s going to take ages to manually go through the accounts and input the new-“

Tim interrupted you with a grunt. “Look, I’m told that we need this thing done by tomorrow morning.”

“What the hell?” You growled, “I was told we had till Friday.”

“Yeah, well, the boss lady changed her mind.” Tim sighed on the other end of the line. “Look, I don’t care what you have to do , just get this thing done. It’s all our asses on the line.”

Tim promptly hung up before you could respond and it was all you could do not to throw your phone at the wall. You let out a curse and rubbed at your temples, the beginnings of a headache forming.

“Mr Taylor?” Lana was suddenly at your side. “Is something wrong? Your heart rate has gone up and your pupils are dilated.”

You glanced at the android. “Problems at work. I’m …fuck, I’m going to be fairly busy today.”

Lana nodded empathetically. “If you want, I can take the kids to school.”

“I don’t…” you stopped yourself. Lana had proven herself to be devoted and reliable, and you needed the extra time to get started at work. “Thank you, Lana. That would be great.”

Almost as soon as the android and the kids were out the door you hurried up to your study and started up the computer. The project was a mammoth to get through, so you cracked your knuckles and went to work.

A few hours later, once all the numbers and accounts and files began to blur together you sat back, rubbed at your face and sighed. You were stressed, you were tired, and as you looked at the framed photo of your wife, you were reminded that you hadn’t been laid in months.

“Screw it,” you whispered, “I can take five minutes to rub one out…”

Checking to make sure the office door was closed, you brought up another tab and opened up some porn. The images flashed before you, beautiful women grinding on each other, getting fucked every which way. Your worked yourself harder and harder as you imagined yourself fucking those women, the feel of their soft flesh, the tightness of their holes…

Within moments you came within a tissue, a thick load born from weeks of build up. The relief was godly and you sat back in your chair feeling a lot better about things….until you heard a creek, and looked up to see Lana watching you with a curious expression.

“JesusFuck!” You shouted, pulling up your pants, “Lana, what the hell?!”

The android stared at your crotch for another few seconds before meeting your eye. “I came to tell you that a package arrived. I left it on the kitchen counter.”

“That’s…whatever, but you can’t just intrude like that!”

Lana blinked. “You needn’t be ashamed to masturbate in front of me, Mr Taylor. It’s a perfectly normal and healthy way to relieve stress.” She tilted her head to examine you closer. “Your heart rate is already dropping and there was a burst of positive hormones in your bloodstream.”

You pinched the ridge of your nose. “Yes, thank you for informing me, but still…personal space, you know?”

“Mr Taylor, I am here to help you in any and every way I can.”

She stared at you for a long moment, and then glanced down at your crotch for another medium sized eternity. Eventually, and with what seemed to be great **** she bowed her head. “But I will leave you to your thoughts. Just remember that I am here to belly you in any and…every…way that I can.”

She retreated again, and you were left to process that.