Unboxing

A half-hour later, you and Penelope walk out of the Household Stuff. You’re carrying $45 of plastic bins, and Penelope is carrying $15 of bubble wrap, plus some packing tape and an x-acto knife.

And, in your pocket, the Multiplier is tracking – you’re pretty sure – four new women. You didn’t hear it buzz, though, so probably none of them were Top Prospects.

“I wish you’d let me pay for those,” Penelope says as you make your way through the parking lot to her car.

“Thanks, but if I keep my receipts, I should be able to get a refund from my insurance.”

Penelope frowns. “You sure your policy works like that?”

She pulls out her key and presses a button, and the car’s trunk pops open.

“Well… no,” you admit as you stash your purchases in the trunk. “But I am sure that Maggie will do everything she can to help me.”

Penelope looks a little skeptical, but then she shrugs. You close the trunk. She presses another button on her key, and the front doors unlock.

This conversation would be easier if you were just able to tell her that Maggie’s a Top Prospect.

“So,” Penelope says once you’re both in the car. “Maggie.” She doesn’t take her key out of her pocket.

“What about her?” you say as you fasten your seatbelt.

“You smiled when you said her name. And when I said it.”

“I did?”

“Mm hmm.”

This would feel a lot more uncomfortable if you hadn’t purchased the “no jealousy” Attribute. It’s still a little weird, though.

“Do you liiiiike her?” Penelope continues as she does up her own seatbelt.

You smirk at her intonation. “She’s really nice,” you acknowledge. “But I don’t really know her as a person yet. We only met yesterday!”

You just met Sigrid yesterday, and she’s already your girlfriend, but you’re REALLY not ready to explain that.

(Also, even though Sigrid has said you’re her best friend ever, declared that she trusts you completely, offered to skip work and spend the day with you to help you feel better, sent you pictures of her underwear and dildo, and begged you to cum in her… you haven’t actually asked her how she’d feel about you using the ‘g’ word.)

“And most of what we talked about was business stuff,” you continue. “Insurance-related.”

Penelope nods. “That’s fair. Is she pretty?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

You blink.

“I… haven’t thought about that,” you say, which is true: you simply haven’t had the chance. “Again – just met her yesterday. I’m not saying no, though!”

Penelope grins. “Sure. How about Belinda?”

“She’s really nice and really pretty too, and I haven’t had the chance to get to know her either. Or to think about fucking her.” You pause. “I did look down her top, though. A few times. Not sure she noticed that.”

Penelope laughs. “Trust me, she noticed.” She very obviously looks at your crotch. “I remember you said she has a bigger ass than me. Are her tits bigger too?”

On the one hand, you remember that the Multiplier said Penelope is 38D and Belinda is 38DD. On the other hand, you’re not totally sure how bra sizes work.

“I… I think so,” you say. “But… hm. I’m visualizing her… and I’m looking at your tits, and… to be absolutely sure, I’d have to see you and her naked together.”

Penelope’s eyes widen. “Go on…” she says, in a very neutral tone.

You have an excellent visual imagination. It helps that you already know what Penelope looks like naked.

“And… maybe you and she are pressed up against each other,” you continue. “And… you’re both already full of my cum, and… and you’re making out while… while I fuck Maggie.”

Penelope starts rubbing herself through her jeans, and her breathing gets faster. She gazes hungrily at the swelling in your pants. Her nipples are poking out.

Then she sighs. “Responsible grownups together,” she says. “Rescuing your stuff. Right?”

You sigh too. “Right.”

She puts her key in the ignition, then pauses. “Also – I know this is stupid, I know you were just being sexy, but it’ll bug me if I don’t say anything…”

“Yeah?”

“There’s more objective modalities for breast volumetry than just looking at them.”

“Oh, sure,” you agree. “I mean, off the top of my head – water displacement?”

“Now I’m imagining bra sizes in milliliters.”

You both laugh.

Penelope holds up her hands. “Okay, okay,” she says. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can be naked and full of your cum.” She starts the car, and the GPS console lights up. “What’s the address of your old place?”

“518 Anglesey.”

She types it in, and the map animation lights up.

“Hang on,” she says after a moment. “GPS is being weird. Do you know if there’s more than one Anglesey Street in town? It’s S-E-Y, right?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. And yeah, you’re spelling it right. Why?”

“These directions lead us to the middle of Marklin.”

“Yeah?”

She stares at you, her mouth open. “Holy shit,” she manages after a moment.

You’re not sure if you should feel insulted.

“Does… does Tammy live in Marklin too?”

You shake your head. “No, she’s in Saint Philip.”

Penelope whistles. “Marklin to Saint Philip. Hell of a jump.”

“It’s not that bad!” you protest. “There are good people there!”

“Yeah, but… Jacob, I know your salary.” She pulls out of the parking space and heads for the lot exit. “You could afford someplace a lot nicer than Marklin, easy,” she continues.

You grimace. “I guess you’re right.”

“Mm,” she says. “Hold on, I gotta concentrate.” There’s still a lot of traffic, and you soon find yourselves waiting at a red light just before the on-ramp to the expressway.

“Incidentally,” Penelope says, “how much are you paying for insurance?”

You tell her.

“I would bet a chunk of that is because you’re living in Marklin,” she says. “Move somewhere better and your rates would probably drop.”

“Hm. I should probably ask Maggie about that,” you say, and take your phone out of your pocket.

“Yes, you should,” Penelope says. The light turns green, and the car moves onto the on-ramp.

“And while I’m at it, I’ll ask about reimbursement for the bins,” you say, and she nods approvingly.

And then you’ll take a quick peek at the Multiplier.

You open your email client and start a new message to Maggie. After a few minutes of fingertip-typing, you’re done.

“‘Hi, Maggie,’” you read aloud. “‘I have a few questions about my policy. First, about the reimbursement – we just got a bunch of storage supplies from Household Stuff to carry out anything salvageable from my old apartment. I saved the receipts. Can I get reimbursed for that, or is it considered unrelated? Second, it’s been suggested to me that I might get better rates if I’m living somewhere other than Marklin. Is this actually the case, and if so, what kind of savings would I be looking at? Third, I was wondering about Belinda’s bra size. Thanks in advance. Jacob.”

Penelope snorts.

“And… sent. Minus the openly sexual part.”

She grins. “You think that was openly sexual?”

“Given that you’re driving on the expressway, yes.”

“Heh. Point taken.”

“Anyway, I just want to check a few other things before we get there.”

“Sure, sure.”

You close your mail and open the Multiplier. First thing you see is an announcement that the Multiplier has updated to a new version, with a link to a changelog. That probably explains the differences in the UI. Well, something to look at later.

For now, let’s see who these new people are. Conveniently, one of the new features appears to be an option to view only new profiles instead of all.

First, the Professionals tab. You drag the ‘probability of successful romantic and sexual relationship’ slider, and… at 44.986%, there’s Tabitha, the store employee at the front desk who rang up your purchases. Tabitha had said you and Penelope made a cute couple and then asked if buying bins meant you were moving in together. You hadn’t been sure about nodding – would that be taking Penelope for granted? – but you had been sure that shaking your head would have hurt her feelings, so you said “uh, not yet,” which made her giggle, and made Tabitha grin. Tabitha is reasonably cute, with shoulder-length black hair and bangs, and sparkly multicolor earrings, and a large red scar on the left side of her face and neck, and a slightly crooked nose, and there was something weird about one of the fingers on her left hand but you didn’t get a proper look. Her profile picture shows her smiling as she processes someone else’s purchase. Her left hand isn’t quite visible from this angle.

At 22.508%, there’s Sophie, the store employee who asked you if there was anything she could help you find; you reflexively said “no, that’s fine, thanks” – and, later, you’d gone up to her and said “I’m sorry, do you have bubble wrap?”, and she’d said “Aisle 12, left side”. Sophie is blonde, with big glasses and one long braid, and a really friendly smile, and she’s nice-looking in a way that sort of reminds you of Sweeney… except that where Sweeney was on the right side of ‘chubby’, Sophie, unfortunately, is not. Sophie is in what you assume is the store’s stockroom, slicing open a cardboard box.

In the Miscellaneous tab, there’s Wendi, who was another customer in the store. She’d asked you if you could help her get a glass ornament (“the green and blue one”) from a high shelf; there had been several different green-and-blue ones, and you had to ask her to be more specific. Your guess is that Wendi is Filipina, and she’s as adorable-looking as she is pregnant (for both: very). You didn’t really look at her left hand, and it’s not visible in her profile picture (waiting in line to pay for her purchases), so you’re not sure whether she was wearing a ring. You still haven’t decided what you’d do if a Top Prospect was already married, but at 18.527%, Wendi is definitely not one.

Interestingly, and admittedly to your relief, the very large woman on the mobility scooter – she’d said “coming through”, and you’d said “oh, sorry” and stepped out of her way – isn’t being tracked, not even when you drag the slider all the way down to <1%. Was that not enough of a conversation? Maybe she wasn’t talking to you, specifically – Penelope got out of the way too. You really hope this is somewhere in the Instruction Manual.

You look up from your phone. The expressway signs say that the exit to Marklin is coming up soon. You wonder if Sigrid is on duty at the building again. Well, you have a quick way of finding out.

Unfortunately, Sigrid’s profile picture shows that she’s in a parking lot somewhere you don’t recognize, getting out of her police car. Which, you suppose, means no Sigrid/Penelope threesome.

Not today, anyway.

Still, it makes you feel warm to see her.

You know Eleanor’s already emptied her apartment, so you won’t get an Eleanor/Penelope threesome either, but you look at her profile anyway. Eleanor’s picture shows her in the coffeehouse kitchen, mixing ingredients in a bowl as she talks to another employee.

From this angle, Eleanor’s tits look bigger than Penelope’s, even though – you double-check Eleanor’s information, and you’ve remembered correctly – they have the same bra size. Maybe it’s an optical illusion connected to Penelope being seven inches taller?

You look at Penelope’s tits again. She notices. “What’re you thinking about?” she says, smiling. Her nipples are poking out through her top again.

“Whether your tits would look bigger if you were shorter.”

She chuckles. “You want a short girl with big tits, you’ve got Kate. I’m your tall girl with big tits, and I’m not gonna get down on my knees just so you can see what I’d look like if I was short.”

The punchline is obvious, and you know she knows it’s obvious, so you let her take it.

“I’m gonna get down on my knees so I can suck your cock and also lick your cum out of Kate and Tammy and Molly,” she finishes with a grin, and switches into the exit lane.

You give her a thumb’s-up, and so does your cock.

“Hold on,” she says. “Concentrating.”

---

The off-ramp is behind you as the car makes its way through the streets of Marklin. Penelope’s GPS hasn’t taken into account road closures, so you need to give her more up-to-date directions, but soon you’re turning onto Anglesey.

There’s still a police car in front of your building (dammit, your old building). Penelope parks behind it, and the two of you get out.

The cop gets out too. You recognize him from Monday evening – he’s the one who told you to find somewhere else to sleep and come back on Tuesday. From the look on his face, he recognizes you too.

“Found yourself a place to stay?” he asks, as Penelope goes to extract the bins from the trunk

You nod. “My friend and I are gonna empty out the salvageable stuff from my apartment. I don’t have ID with my address on it, but yesterday Officer Petersen said it was okay.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You have Officer Petersen’s badge number?”

“It’s on my phone,” you say, then take it out and show him the pictures of you and Sigrid together, and the close-up of her badge. By this point, Penelope is waiting at the building’s door.

“Everything okay?” she calls out. You look questioningly at the cop.

He nods. “Go on in, and document whatever you take out.”

As you and Penelope make your way past the second floor, you meet your neighbor Graham (your former neighbor, dammit) coming down with his boyfriend Bob; they’re both carrying boxes of stuff.

“Jacob!” Graham says. “Thank you so much!”

“Oh!” says Penelope. “You’re the bunny guy!”

“That’s me,” he says.

“How’s Banana doing?” you ask.

Graham shrugs. “We haven’t been to the vet yet, but… eating, drinking, peeing, pooping. He doesn’t like Bob’s place, though.”

“He’ll get used to it,” Bob says.

“We were gonna move in with Bob soon anyway,” Graham adds. “This just means I don’t have to weasel out of my lease.”

“It also means most of his stuff was already in my apartment,” Bob points out. “Anyway, these boxes are heavy. You coming?”

“Yeah, I just need to talk to Jacob a bit more about building stuff,” Graham says. “I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” Bob says, and continues down the stairs.

“So I was wondering if you were able to reach the landlord,” Graham says, glancing in Bob’s direction.

“Uh, no,” you say. “Well, I tried on Tuesday morning, but that was only once. I left him a message.”

“I’ve been trying and trying, and I keep getting voicemail too, and I figured maybe you’d had better luck. Have you heard about Larry?”

He’s still watching Bob instead of looking at you.

“Uh, I heard he fell asleep while he was smoking and they took him away in an ambulance?”

At the bottom of the stairwell, Bob passes through what’s left of the door; it swings shut. Well, sort of shut.

“I heard that everyone else got out okay,” Graham assures you. He’s counting on his fingers. Penelope’s face is scrunched up in puzzlement.

Then he reaches ten.

“Okay, he should be outside now,” he says very quietly. “I love Bob, but he’s a gossip. I’m not getting involved here, but… Eleanor?” He tilts his head meaningfully in Penelope’s direction. She raises an eyebrow.

Dammit, did everybody know Eleanor was crushing on you? How obvious was it!

“I’ll figure something out,” you assure him.

“Good.”

He thanks you again for rescuing Banana, and makes sure you have each other’s contact details in case there’s more building-related stuff, then continues down the stairs and passes through the door at the bottom.

You and Penelope continue up the stairs. “Eleanor’s the one who helped you rescue Banana, right?” she asks.

You nod.

“What was with the whispering and the significant glances and all that?”

You sigh. “Apparently Eleanor has a huge crush on me.”

“Ah. And he was worried I’d – we’d – hurt her feelings?”

You nod again.

“Do you like her?” Penelope asks as you emerge from the stairwell onto the top floor.

“Yes. She’s amazing. She has a master’s in nineteenth-century literature.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Oh god yes,” you say. “And before you ask, yes I want to fuck her. I’ve jacked off thinking about her so many times.”

“… oh no, oh no, poor Jacob, poor Eleanor?”

You shrug. Knowing that Eleanor is crushing on you doesn’t retroactively make the experience less frustrating. “I guess so. Anyway, here’s my apartment.”

You push the remnants of the door aside and show Penelope inside. She looks around. “God, this place is tiny!” she says.

You feel an impulse to defend it, but she’s right.

“Okay, well. What do we do first?” she asks.

“My computer. It’s probably ruined, but the hard drive might be salvageable. After that… I’ve got DVDs that looked okay yesterday. I realize they might all be dead, but I want to check them anyway.”

She nods.

---

Working with Penelope is really nice. There’s no way you could have made this much progress, this fast, by yourself. Fifteen minutes later, the two of you have just returned to the apartment after stashing two sealed bins – one with your computer, one with dozens of DVDs and USB keys and a few remarkably lucky books – in the trunk of Penelope’s car, when your phone buzzes with a text – and then, seconds later, it buzzes again.

“Who’s that?” Penelope asks.

You pull out your phone, look at the texts, and snicker. Then you show it to Penelope.

---

---

Penelope looks blank. “I don’t get it?”

“‘Oh, I needed that’ is code for ‘I just had an orgasm.’”

Penelope’s eyebrows go up. “I thought she was on campus!”

“As far as I know, she is.”

A grin spreads across Penelope’s face, and she licks her lips. “What a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Would you say she’s… a nervert?” you say.

Penelope laughs, then she stretches. “Okay, what next. How about clothes?”

The clothes in your closet aren’t in as good condition as you thought yesterday. Even the items that don’t fall apart when you touch them, are visibly scorched and reek of smoke. You’re able to rescue five shirts, seven mismatched socks, two pairs of underwear, and no pants.

Your towels are ruined.

“Blankets?” Penelope suggests. You nod, and she sits on the floor and begins triaging.

“Good… ruined… ruined… ruined… good… ruined… ruined...”

She holds up a small one that’s been singed around the edges and has some small holes burned through it but is otherwise intact.

Yesterday, you stared at this blanket for almost a minute.

“Ruined?” she suggests.

“No,” you tell her, a lump in your throat. “That one’s… that one’s important to keep.”

She looks dubious. “Why?”

“My, um. My mom made that one. When I was little.” Your eyes are wet, and you feel cold all over.

“Oh! Yes, absolutely we’ll save your mom’s blanket!”

She adds it to the bin with the shirts and the other blankets.

Then she gets to her feet. “Come here,” she says. You approach her, and she hugs you tight. She’s warm, and she smells so nice, and she feels so good to touch, but you’re still shivering.

“We’ve talked so much,” she says, “and this is only the second time you’ve even mentioned your parents. You’ve never said that you told them about the fire. And you saw how destroyed Kate was when she didn’t know if you were okay. I know you, Jacob. If you’d told them about the fire before we had lunch with Kate, you would have said so, and if you hadn’t, you would have done it during lunch. And you’re staying with Tammy instead of with them. And there are tears in your eyes. What happened to your parents, Jacob?”

“Car accident,” you mutter. “I was thirteen.” You want to tell her it was your fault, but you… but you just can’t.

“Ohhhh no,” she says, and nuzzles you. “I’m so sorry.”

The two of you stand like that in the afternoon sunlight, holding each other, for almost five minutes.

Eventually Penelope exhales, and lets you go. “Okay,” she says. “You feeling a little better now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”

She smiles. “Good. Ready to continue?”

“Uh huh. And… thank you for understanding. About the blanket.”

She looks at you for a long moment.

“Do you want to fuck me in the ass?” she asks.