Knowing Her

“I know you hate make-up, but making a girl cry to check if she’s wearing any is cruel.”

Layla’s quip made the Gamer laugh out loud. The two of them were sitting on a random bench in the woods. The wooden thing was quite creaky and, truthfully, John did not like sitting on it. It was both damp and cold. However, Layla had wanted to sit down after they had left the Protected Space and it was the best spot to do so.

The brunette used the provided handkerchief to dry the last of her tears, then blew her nose. She stuffed the piece of cloth into her pocket. John felt it safe to answer at that point.

“I thought it was best to do that first. Get you to the lowest point so I can build you back up over the course of the day.”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Layla responded with the most carefree smile in the world. The depth of her sunny honesty served to sweeten the depravity of her words. “Break me down, build me up, I’ll be whatever you need me to be and more!”

“I need you to be yourself,” John reminded her.

“And that’s why I love you!”

“You’re sure that it’s not because you got your brain shattered by pleasure?” he asked. A bit of genuine doubt must have snuck into his voice despite his jovial intentions. His date’s expression turned contemplative, fixing her eyes on the tips of her shoes. She swung her legs up into the air, then down again.

“That was the initial motivation, sure, but… yeah, I’ll just tell you what everyone else tells you. I’m not special in loving you, loving you is the most natural thing in the world.” She nodded a few times to herself, affirming a deeply held belief. “When I first got to feel your presence, that did wonderful things to me and I got rightfully obsessed because of that, but that’s no longer why I’m here. You’ll be my man because you did everything right. You’ve treated me well, better than anyone I met before, when you could have just… had me. I would do anything to be yours – anything.” She reiterated that word with a hard stare. “But you and yours just made sure that I’m… good. So… really, my powers reacted to you this intensely because my female instincts immediately knew that I had found my soulmate!”

That wasn’t even entirely refutable. There was at least one other extremely powerful person in Springfield and Moira, someone blessed by Gaia, had been around as well. Yet, only John created this strong of a reaction. Either it was the specific mixture of the two facts or there was something more going on.

It didn’t matter. Even if it wasn’t true by the mechanics of her ability, it was effectively true given the outcome. John shuffled over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. She immediately and eagerly nuzzled up against him, even swinging one of her legs over his. “I wish you had done it less intrusively…”

“Urgh, are you still insisting on that?” the (mostly) reformed stalker groaned.

“…but I am happy you found me all the same.”

They enjoyed a moment together, staring out into the forest.

“Why do you think there’s a bench here?” Layla asked, probably just to hear him talk.

“Probably a memorial bench,” he said. It was a random spot in the woods, but it was also a nice one. He could imagine someone putting a bench here to commemorate a friend who had been a game warden or who just enjoyed taking strolls. “Alternatively: teenagers.”

“Teenagers really don’t need a reason to do anything, do they?”

“They are agents of chaos,” John agreed. “Entirely removed from you and I.”

Layla laughed. They both had lived a much different life than the average American, though his differences were more in the last 2-3 years than her entire life as an Abyssal. Still, they weren’t exactly far removed from teenagers. John was 20 (ignoring Illusion Barrier time). Layla was 22.

“…Since we are already in Springfield, want to visit the spot?” Layla asked.

“The spot?”

“Where I was hit by your aura.”

John had other things planned for the day, but they really were in no hurry. “Sure,” he agreed.

___________________________________________________________________________

Out of the forest, back into Springfield proper, then to his childhood home where he had parked a black Cadillac in a rental garage. The car started without problem, getting periodically checked on by Aclysia as part of her routine inspections of all places connected via his Outposts.

Well, it looked like a Cadillac. The outside was really just shaped to resemble the 1965 car. Nothing under the hood was anything like it, which John wasn’t too upset about. “I bought this car just so I could accurately cruise around blasting ‘Back in Black’,” he explained to Layla.

“That’s so cool!” she declared. “Ever got roadhead in here?”

“I don’t fuck and drive.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Did have sex on the backbench though.”

Layla bit her lower lip. She was clearly contemplating undoing her belt and seeing if she could catch a whiff of the debauchery sticking to the leather. Alas, even if she tried, the maids would have wiped it all down too thoroughly for anything to remain.

Instead, the reformed stalker told John what turns to take. They were driving way ahead of the morning commute, enjoying the mostly empty streets. They stopped in the parking lot of a small supermarket. It wasn’t the proper procedure, but they would be in and out quickly, John reckoned.

They approached a medium-sized apartment building. It was neither old nor new, just an apartment block like any other. Layla hopped out of the car, then made her way to the front door. She checked the nametags, then clicked her tongue.

“Someone else moved in!” she complained.

“Well, it has been a year,” John remarked. If Layla had gotten blasted with his aura the day he had arrived in Springfield, that would have meant it happened on the 16th of January 2019. “…What were you planning to do anyway? Do you still have the keys?”

“I was going to pick the lock,” Layla answered without a shred of hesitation. She bounced back from the door. “If there’s someone living there, I guess I won’t…”

That was an acceptable minimum of common sense. They returned to the car, where the heater kept them nice and toasty. “Anywhere else you want to go while we are here?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Not really…” Layla looked out of the window, pouting a bit.

“Was there anything specific you wanted to show me?” he asked. “Anything special about it?”

“Not really. It was just my apartment and I didn’t have that much stuff.” The reformed stalker let out a slightly unhinged laugh. “Only special thing about the apartment is that I almost died in it.”

“Dehydration?”

“You know me so well! We’re just made for each other.”

John chuckled again, very aware of the alchemical tablets in his inventory. Who knew when he would cause her to experience a concerning degree of thirst during this date? “Well, if there’s no other place you want to go, let’s go pick up some breakfast.”

“I would love that!” Layla chirped. “Salts and Peppers?”

The Gamer turned his head to her in a flabbergasted stare, before remembering he was driving. “How do you…?” he asked, while focusing back on the road.

“I know,” Layla answered, all smug and adorable. “Of course, I know.”

‘Thinking about it, I don’t know what I expected.’

___________________________________________________________________________

Salts and Peppers was one of the many stores in the Guild Hall’s Commercial district. Though there was a massive Canteen in the Industry area, there would always be demand among the people for varieties of food. What the Canteen offered was cooked with mass in mind and, even with the best ingredients and greatest care, that showed. It was also a fair bit away from the Commercial district and not everyone liked what was on offer.

Among the many breakfast shops, Salts and Peppers advertised itself by being greasy and satisfying, not healthy. It was still much better for the consumer than McDonalds or similar fast food, but it certainly wasn’t great. Consequently, it was incredibly popular.

“Abyssals sure have it good,” John drawled, looking at his fellow customers. With the swiftness that people ordered, he was certain most of them were repeat visitors and yet not one of them looked overweight. “Get to eat what they want and not put on a single kilo.”

“You say that like you ever suffered that problem. I know that you used to be a beanstalk.” The row advanced, the two of them took a step.

“No need to call me out like that,” the Gamer grumbled.

“Oh, you were a perfect, adorable beanstalk,” she rubbed up against his side, “but a beanstalk all the same.”

They reached the counter in the moderately sized store. The man behind it was properly fat, though John couldn’t really pin that on him overeating. With a head that resembled a weird mixture of snail and reptile and a body covered in thick scales, the man was most certainly not human. “Ah, Mister Emperor.” A strikingly mundane voice came out of the sharp-toothed mouth. “The double cheeseburger with extra fries is waiting in the back. Don’t make too much of a mess.”

“Thank you?” John was once more flabbergasted, though Layla’s giggle clued him in on who had outmanoeuvred him here. As they moved to the back, he whispered to his date, “Did you predict everything we’re going to do today?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, isn’t it?” Layla responded in an equally hushed tone.

“I might have to love you just because you’re a national security risk at this rate…”

“You’ll find a thousand reasons to love me, I’ll make sure of it.”

They stepped through the door and into the back of the shop. Salts and Peppers was a store that prided itself on selling grease and its internal décor matched that part, blue-beige tiles, cheap-ish wallpaper, tables, chairs and couches made of plastic, metal and plywood. All of that being said, it was clean.

There was the back of the shop, where a multitude of people sat and ate, and the backroom beyond that. It was another door removed from everyone else and seemed to exist just because the provided shop was more than the owner knew what to do with. Either that or there were important business people who had asked for a bit of privacy. In any or all cases, John stepped into a chamber fitting for about 5 people, if one was willing to endure a bit of cramping. With him and Layla joining the current inhabitant, it was comfortably full.

“I stole your fries, tiger,” Jane reported.

“…Of course you did.” John was not even surprised. “It is in the nature of women to steal fries.” A singular U-shaped bench wrapped around the small table that dominated the tiny backroom. The Gamer sat down, then ‘hopped’ along the bench until he settled in its curve. Jane was to his left, Layla came to sit to his right, and in front of them sat a tablet with a big, juicy cheeseburger, a smaller but still juicy bacon burger, and a plate that sported the remnants of a formerly large helping of fries. “And what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help with Layla’s part of the date plan.” As she spoke, Jane unzipped his pants. Finding an angle for her to wrap her lips around his cock was a bit awkward, given the little space, but she managed.

“God…” John groaned, then bent forwards. Trembling hands made for poor risk management, so he brought his mouth as close to the burger as he could. The cheese was melty, the sauce rich, the pickles well pickled and the bun juicy, all of it emphasized by the criminal amount of salt and sugar added to it all. “Sho… what’sh the plan?” he asked, while chewing. He swallowed his first mouthful of natural gamer food. “Because if it is to endear me to you by arranging for me getting blown while I eat fast food, it’s working.”

“That’s just step one of my master plan!” A lewd tremble went through Layla’s body and it wasn’t because she loved bacon that much. Again, she let the pleasure of his presence rush through her nervous system, experiencing a multitude of little orgasms as they shared an unhealthy meal. “I’ve invited a bunch of my fellow haremettes to join us throughout the day. Not everyone, there’s a bit too many of us for that, but everyone who wanted to show up.”

The slurping under the table came to a temporary stop, replaced with the similarly depraved sound of Jane’s hand pumping along his freshly lubricated length. “Was all her suggestion,” the feline Lightbearer assured. “She wants ya to see she gets along with all of us. Obviously, we thought that was brilliant.”

It was, indeed, brilliant. Though she had the confidence of the harem, it was true that John hadn’t seen her interact much with a lot of them. A growing problem as the numbers expanded and a primary motivator as to why things were slowing down. Since they had wrapped up in Hawaii, Layla had been spending every day around the haremettes, but the Gamer had only been present for so much of it.

“Not even making your initiation date about yourself,” John remarked. “You have really adjusted to this lifestyle, haven’t you?”

“Ehehe… what can I say?” Layla took a sip of soda real quick before continuing, “I’ll be perfect for you, that’s my promise. I’m not some harlot who just pretends to be fine with it to get close to you, I’m the real deal! You’re my man! I will make you the happiest I can, so I will get along with the rest of our harem!”

He was really tempted, once more, to just kiss her there and then. The return of Jane’s lips around his cock wiped that impulse from his mind. “I can’t help but notice that my first wife went straight to sucking me off.”

“She was supposed to bounce her perfect ass on your lap while I fed you, but… urgh, the room is just too small!” Layla glared at the table and walls, as if she could intimidate space to bend for her. “Sorry, John, cumming in her mouth will have to be enough. Next stop you can fuck one of us properly.”

“So, you have arranged that I get to have sex at every stop?” John asked.

An affirming hum echoed from Layla’s throat while she took another bite. “I want you all warmed up and basked in the satisfaction of the harem when you push that perfect dick into my virgin pussy!”

John understood, absolutely, why people kept sticking their dick in crazy.

They kept making chit-chat as they ate. John managed to devour the whole of his burger before his hips bucked off the faux-leather of the bench. Jane’s cat tail smacked on the table with each spasm of the cum-induced orgasm. Layla watched it all with hungry, pink-tinted eyes, pushing out sharp, quiet whines as she tensed and relaxed to the rhythm of his tightening balls.

‘And it’s not even 7:30!’ the Gamer realized.