Get a Handjob From Her

“Alright,” you say, digging out your wallet. “I’ve got ten bucks for you.”

You hold the ten dollar bill out of the window for her and she snatches it from you, pushing it hurriedly into the small purse hanging on her shoulder. Her heels click on the concrete as she quickly makes her way around the hood of your car. You watch her ass in the tight jeans, it’s nice and plump, the kind of ass your friend Washington would call an “atomic booty”. You briefly regret not paying her more to fuck her and then she’s ducking into the passenger side, her breasts jiggling.

She reaches over and deftly unzips the fly of your slacks, her hand working inside your boxer shorts and wrapping around your flaccid cock. Her hand is cool and dry, her strokes with it slow and gentle. She pulls your dick out of your pants and leans over, drooling a thin string of spit onto the tip and coating your cock evenly with it. She sits back up and looks you in the eye.

“You can play with my tits if it’ll help get you off,” she says matter-of-factly.

You reach down through the low-cut top of the baby doll tee and squeeze her left breast. You roll her big nipple between your thumb and index finger, teasing it and pinching lightly until it is extremely hard.

“You got a nice dick mister,” she says, chewing her gum with an open mouth.

You glance down at your now hard cock and watch as her plump fingers work up and down the spit-slicked shaft. You continue to play with her breasts, alternating somewhat awkwardly between the right and the left as she strokes your cock. It takes several minutes before you feel the cum beginning to swell in your balls. She leans over and spits on your cock again, greasing it up and smearing her saliva and your precum over your dick.

“Just warn me when you’re gonna shoot off big boy, I don’t want more cum on my shirt.”

You grunt in affirmation and she accelerates the pace of her stroking. You can now feel your load churning, the pleasure building in the head of your dick.

“A-all right,” you pant slightly, “I’m getting ready to cum.”

The hooker pushes your cock like a gear shift as she continues stroking, aiming it towards the steering wheel of the car.

“Come on big boy, you know I wanna see that cock do its thing,” the hooker moans, her gum and general apathy apparent in her tone of voice.

It doesn’t matter, her soft hand working skillfully up and down on your hard cock feels incredibly good. Your face heats up and you pitch forward into the spasmic thrall of your orgasm.

“Oh yeah, I can feel that baby,” she coos, “Here it comes.”

Your cock jerks in her hand and a thin scattered spray pumps out of the tip.

“That’s right, cum.” She says with little emotion. “Shoot that load for me.”

She jerks harder and you begin to cum in earnest, squeezing her breast firmly in your right hand, a large stream of your semen spurting from the tip of your cock and splashing on the lower bar of the steering wheel. She keeps stroking and you keep cumming, pumping out three more thick strands before the final two drool out over her fingers. The hooker squeezes a last final bead of cum from the tip of your cock and then quickly begins cleaning off with a tissue.

“Do ya need one honey?” She offers you a Kleenex and you accept, mopping off your balls, pants, and the steering wheel.

“Thanks! See ya later,” she jiggles her breasts and winks, and then exits your car.

You finish cleaning up just as you spot Katherine walking inside the mini-mart. You tuck your penis back into your pants and zip up, discarding the soiled tissue on the ground. You can see Katherine browsing the coolers.

She looks older - but still quite attractive - in the bright fluorescent light of the mini-mart. She catches your reflection in the glass of the cooler as you approach and jerks her head in your direction.

“Act like you’re looking at the drinks,” she hisses, “just in case.”

You step over to the cooler window next to her and glance absently at the variety of chilled coffee and juices.

“Why did you want to meet me Katherine?” You say it politely, concealing the chemical irritability the stim pills usually cause.

“It’s about Orchid,” she says haltingly. “I…there’s no good way to put this…”

“It’s okay, just put it however you have to.” You yank a bottle of chocolate-flavored coffee from the cooler and pretend to read the ingredients.

“I love her.” She waits, looking at you for a response, but you just keep staring at the bottle. “She is somehow holding on to fragments of memory, even when we default her, and I am falling in love with what she has become.”

“Experience seepage,” you explain unnecessarily, “if her memories are bleeding into her core architecture-“

“Then she’s a failure,” Katherine interrupts. “If we can default her back to a true start then she will never be useable for mass production. It gets worse though, she’s developing unauthorized emotion memes; true love among them. That sort of thing isn’t just ruinous to the project, it’s highly illegal, and she’ll be wiped.”

“But you love her.” You continue.

“But I love her. I don’t want her to be wiped, I want to be with her. I’ve been concealing these problems from Heinrich and the board, but the techs keep spotting anomalies, including the ones that occurred tonight. I don’t have enough money to buy the silence of the entire development team.”

“I guess what I’m wondering,” you interject, “is just what the hell this has to do with me.”

“You’re an opportunist. I looked into your background much more thoroughly than the screening process required. I assume you’re probably coming at this from more than one angle already. Mossoman? Tanaka? It doesn’t matter. I want to buy them out. I want you to get Orchid out of there.”

You think in silence, she is obviously waiting for a response.

“How much is it worth?”

“I can pay 80,000. I know that’s more than they’re paying you, and probably more than you’ve taken home from any of your jobs.”

“This is a tough situation you have put me in,” you reply after another moment of consideration.

“Cut the shit,” Katherine hisses, “80,000 is a fortune in your line of work. We both know the risks, but that is more than fair.”

You put the drink back in the rack and ponder her offer.