Gianna, the orgy host with a dark side

Gianna pulled her tube top back over her impressive chest as she made her way through the crowded train station. She was proud of her organic breasts, but they always felt so heavy after an orgasm, so she went ahead and opted for the extra support. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a long leather strap with a zipper at either end. She reached around her waist and clasped the zipper on the side, turning the strap into a not-at-all-modest miniskirt, and the only thing covering her natural pussy.

Now that the news was out that she was back in town, it was time to get back into party mode. Gianna wished she could say she was glad to have made time to go out and see her old friends from the little farming town she grew up in, but with the kind of people they had turned into, she just couldn't. She hopped back on the train almost as quickly as she'd arrived, and was fingering herself on the ride back to Lincoln with no shame.

After all, every inch of her was naturally grown. People didn't wear bras anymore, but based on what she knew of many years ago, she'd estimate her bust at about a 36DD. She never shaved the hair growing above her pink, sopping labia, and never even let one finger get chopped off and replaced. Her dark skin and curly hair was carefully maintained with sun and cum, and never needed to be tanned at a cheap-ass salon. She did dye it a bright, outrageous blue, but that was a necessity in her line of work.

Orgy hosting. And not just any orgies. Exclusive, sweaty, night-long orgies at secret, hot locations all over the city. All for cypeople, with their hammer cocks and bubble tits and so, so many fingers and tongues. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement just thinking about the event she had planned tomorrow night.

But first, she needed a drink.

Gianna headed over to the train station bar and took a wet seat on the slimy leather bars tool. Flagging down the bartender, she made a silent order for a shot of cheap bourbon, and hungrily looked around the room.

She was disappointed.

Every single person in here was a cyborg.

The group of girls making out in the booth closest to the door all had tan, upgraded arms. The pair of guys going at it against the pinball machine were equipped with shining metal calves. Even the bartender had fake tits and a hanging metal cock.

And then there was the asshole next to her.

In this day and age, everyone was at least a little naked. Gianna let her boobs hang out all the time, masturbated in public at almost every dull moment. But this guy--he wore nothing at all. He was here to fuck, and that was it. And she could tell he meant business, as he stood at the bar, not even using the bar stool except as a platform for his massive , brightly-lit cy-dick.

It was glowing, for Christ's sake. It had neon lights running along the side of its huge girth. It was just plain ugly.

Of course, the cy-chick sitting next to him didn't seem to mind, with the metal tendons of her fingers wrapped around it, putting them both in simulated ecstasy. Gianna couldn't imagine how that could feel good for them, much less how it could feel better than having an honest-to-God piece of meat running between one's fleshy fingers.

God, she wanted to throw up.

"You lookin' blue-bird?" he said. Gianna kept looking straight ahead, pretending she didn't hear him. "Yo, fleshy. I said do you want some action?"

She craned her neck harshly, straining and pulling her neck muscles just enough to nudge her chest out from its sheer hiding place, practically shoving her organic nudity in his face. "Do you know who I am, fucktard?"

"Yeah I do. You're Gianna, I'm going to your orgy tomorrow." he said with a frustrating level of attitude. She almost let her eyelids twitch a little too long, but she had to admit, her anger with the snide cyperson was making her all wet again. "Whaddya say we pre-game it?"

Gianna was a professional. She'd been running orgies for cypeople in Lincoln for three years, engaging with them. She'd taken dozens of dicks--both mechanical and not--and eaten out twice as many metal pussies. But if Gianna was really honest with herself--and she had to be, since she couldn't be honest with anyone else--she hated cyborgs. She despised them. She was prejudiced against them.

So did she want to go at it with this guy when she didn't have to? Or was she strong enough to walk away, and potentially lose some clout with her exclusive clientele?