Bad News Leaves Vegas Pt. 02

Disclaimer: This one is much shorter, and it doesn't go very far. But I've sat on probably six or seven versions of this story over the past few years, never releasing any of them. I'm unhappy with how "Arthur" was written, so I've tried to rewrite that unsuccessfully, and as many drafts of follow-ups as I've tried to write, I'm not all that happy with those either. I've also written unrelated stories, but those will probably stay in the archive as well.

Nevertheless, although it is short, I feel like this is the most logical direction for this part to go in. I feel like clumping any of the parts I have planned in would feel unnatural.

There isn't a logical place for an actual sex scene to take place here, so just consider it the lead-up to part 3 for now. I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Of course, all of the previous disclaimers on the earlier part apply here too. I don't feel like rewriting all that, so if you want to know what to expect, go back and read part 1. This part doesn't make much sense without that anyway.

*****

Lily knew Mike wasn't going to fit. He had a veritable monster cock swinging between his legs. Or at least she knew it, rationally. But the idea of that goliath cock parting her lips, begging to enter, still left her soaking- not recoiling.

The cum from the earlier gangbang was still leaking out of her, drip-by-drip, as she sat bare-assed on the porcelain tile exterior of the pool, her legs dipping into the lukewarm water.

"You should probably go," Mike said.

He had been quiet- contemplative- ever since the other guys had left.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look. That was incredibly hot- you're unbelievably hot. I almost wish I had married you, so I could do that more often. But you have a husband, and I have a wife, and I think we should get back to that."

"No- I'm done with Bill." Lily curled up to Mike. "Besides, I still need to feel that monster cock of yours..." She took his cock in her hand, and started to stroke it. "I need to make it fit..."

"I'm sorry. I can't do that again." He reluctantly recoiled and stood up.

"What the FUCK, Mike?"

"I'm sorry. I can't."

"So you're all about your wife now? Where was that attitude when your penis was between my tits, and in my mouth? What the FUCK?"

He sighed. "Look, I don't know what you want." He stared out at the pool, glistening under a combination of his yard lights and the cold night moon. "Maybe your husband betrayed you, but my wife did nothing wrong. I love my wife. I made a mistake. And I barely know you."

She huffed and fumed, and thought to say something, but sat in silence, sulking, arms folded.

"I think you should go home, Lily," Mike said. "My wife's going to be home soon."

She sighed. "Okay." She stood up, and met his gaze. "But if your wife ever turns you down for sex- if you ever want to see how that thing could EVER fit in little old me..." she looked down and grabbed his twitching member, "feel free to stop by. Maybe bring some more friends?"

He moved her hand, then pulled away again. "That won't happen."

She chuckled. "Whatever you say. But open invitation? Food for thought?"

She walked back home with her bikini in hand, feeling the breeze slowly whip into her. She felt reborn, ignited by a fire she didn't know could still burn in her.

She was going to feel Mike inside of her- the idea was driving her crazy. But there was no reason she couldn't have a little fun in the meantime.

Three Hours Earlier

Bill hung up the phone and nervously bit his lip. He was tempted to call Lily back, but decided it would be a bad idea. He'd let her sort out whatever unresolved feelings she had toward him and call her tomorrow when she had calmed down.

Bill almost had to shout over the music. "Okay! Sorry, Ellen! What did you need?"

She looked around, then gestured to the motel hallway, suggesting that they should talk somewhere quieter. He groaned and followed her. It was kind of a pathetic party- ten people awkwardly sitting in a motel lobby, scattered around tables, most texting or typing on laptops, and Vince embarrassing himself again, grinding against two girls Bill could only assume were prostitutes.

The hallway was quieter -much less obnoxious - Bill thought, before catching a strong whiff of cigarette smoke. He addressed Ellen, "Okay. What's wrong?"

"It's Kalal..."

"Kalal?"

"He took the term 'open bar' a little too liberally, and now he's convinced he should delete everything he wrote." Ellen stared. "I know. I don't get it either."

"Well, did you try talking to him about it?"

"Uhh... I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly shedding the 'new girl' image. I doubt he'd listen to me."

Bill frowned. "Well, don't worry about it. As long as we have it all backed up, we're fine."

Ellen cringed.

"We DO still have all his work backed up, don't we?"

"He brute forced your password, and he may or may not be deleting from the repository. You really should stop using names of 90's sitcom characters as passwords."

"Shit."

Realizing the urgency of the situation, Bill tore off through the hallway, up to the second floor and to Kalal's motel room.

He banged on the door. "Kalal! Open up!"

Bill was ashamed of the noise he was making, and really didn't want to attract too much attention, but he wasn't about to let those changes get deleted either. He heard a bed creek, followed by footsteps, then the door creaked open, and Kalal's face appeared in the gap, the door held slightly ajar by the door's security lock.

"Dude, calm down."

"Kalal. Please don't delete your code."

Kalal sighed. "Ellen talked to you?"

"I was going to notice tomorrow. You must have realized that."

"Look, man. That's my code. If I want to delete it, I'm free to do so."

"Not according to your contract, you're not." Bill realized the severity of his tone, and tried to lighten the mood. "...Can I come in and chat?"

The door shut, and Bill considered that he had been rejected outright, before the lock clicked, the door opened, unlatched, and Kalal's full frame stood before him in the doorway.

"You have five minutes."

He walked back to his computer and continued typing and clicking. Bill was afraid he was deleting his code, but he was searching through porn instead. Previews of busty Japanese women getting fondled and gangbanged in public places decorated his screen.

"Umm..." Bill coughed. "So Kalal..."

"Why am I deleting my code?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Have you ever woken up one day and realized how utterly pointless all of your work is, and felt trapped in your own existence?"

"That's an odd question."

"Okay... I'll rephrase. Do you ever think this midi conversion project might be a little pointless?"

"No. I don't."

"Of course you'd say that. It's your project."

"...Kalal, do you think maybe you just had a little too much to drink?"

"Nah. Sober me thought this project was bullshit too."

"Oh."

"Yeah. The reason nobody's bothered creating software to convert midi to mp3 *isn't* that it's too difficult. It's that nobody cares."

Bill was tempted to tell Kalal to take his screen off of the porn, but he didn't want to tensen the situation more than he already had. "Well, if you don't mind me asking, why did you join the project in the first place then?"

Kalal sighed. "You knew that I was good- I could *show* you that I was good- but a real company- a company that actually matters- " he continued talking despite the obvious frustration in Bill's face at being labeled "less" than a real company- "isn't going to hire me without actual work on a team project like yours. It doesn't matter that it's stuffy, or boring, or practically irrelevant."

"Okay, Kalal." Bill could partly hear the sound of the ice machine from the hallway outside. He wondered when it was last replaced - it had looked fifteen years old when he noticed it. "What can I do to get you on-board?"

Now

Something in Lily was still deeply unsatisfied. She had been filled up in every position and way imaginable, but she still wanted something more. She felt like an addict.

The bars were all closed at this hour, and she wasn't sure the people who frequented them were "safe" anyway - the town wasn't small enough that she knew everybody's history, and many of these places carried a bad reputation.

She couldn't sleep. She didn't have to work tomorrow anyway.

She picked up one of her wedding photos from the mantle of the fireplace. It was foreign to her. A part of her wished her husband was here, so that he could fuck her - he might have been small, but at least he could get her off somewhat, and at least she wouldn't be alone.

But she didn't know what she'd do with him if he were here. Yell at him, maybe. Maybe just ignore him.

She'd probably just do whatever he wanted to do - which almost never involved sex.

Without much thought, she took out her phone, moved through her contacts, and called.