Extra Credit 0
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Extra ChangeChapter 2 free porn video
Crissy brushed her still-damp hair back as they waited for their food to arrive. What with all the calories they'd been working off, both had been desperate for breakfast after the shower. A quick mutual toweling-off and dressing had been followed by a swift drive to a Coney Island nearby.
They sat across from each other, staring into each others eyes, playing footsie, smiling a lot, and generally doing things that confirmed that Zack was very quickly falling for her as hard as she had for him. She was dizzyingly happy.
"How are we going to cash ... well, you know?" Zack asked. They didn't want to talk about the ticket in public, of course. The odds of someone overhearing and robbing them were low, but it was a lot of money.
Crissy pulled out her PDA phone and they did some searching. "Cool, there's an office over the bay, in Hayward." She couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice. "God, Zack, this is so cool!"
"I know." He was having trouble staying calm, too. His hand brushed his back pocket, where the ticket rested in his wallet.
"Wherever we move, we gotta make sure it has a big water heater!" Crissy teased.
"Yeah," he grinned back. Crissy was ecstatic at his easy acceptance of the idea that they would be living together. "God, I could actually design something instead of being a glorified gofer." Zack's career hadn't progressed as quickly as he'd hoped. Crissy had always suspected that was one of the sources of friction with Karen.
For a few moments, they just sat and beamed at each other. Zack suddenly frowned. "Wait a minute. Why do you have a Norplant? You said you only did it with girls before."
"But I wanted to be ready if I got a shot at you. I didn't want anything to get in the way. So I got it, like, three months ago." She smiled. "What, do you wish you'd needed a condom or something?"
"No, it just seemed kinda weird." A thoughtful pause. "I guess whatever did this thought of everything."
"Hey, I've got a question for you. What was the deal with that Shriner car?"
Now he looked a little sheepish. "When I was five or something, I really wanted a ride in a parade with my uncle Morty. My dad wouldn't let me, probably 'cause Morty was drunk. But I didn't understand. I was so mad." Shrugging, he finished, "I guess some part of me still wanted that ride."
"Oh, that's so sweet!" Every new thing she learned about him seemed to make him more endearing. She looked over his shoulder. "Here comes our food!"
They continued talking as they ate. "You called in sick for me? They accepted that from some strange girl?"
"Dummy, they've heard of me! I talked your admin, Marie. I met her when we went to the Halloween party."
"Oh." He stuffed a forkful of egg in his mouth and swallowed almost without chewing. "Chris was there, that's right." Another gulp. "It's still kinda weird, everyone but me remembering you." A long sip of orange juice. "Hey, you must ... I mean, there's gotta be people who know me, that I never met. You don't work at Pool-Brite, right?"
"Nope," she mumbled around her hash browns.
"So where do you work?"
"I'm your fantasy. Where would your dream girl work?" She was enjoying the chance to tease him. Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Um..." he hesitated.
"Oh, come on, how hard can it be? You know me pretty well already..." Her grin was very wide.
"Well ... not a stripper." She nodded. Zack wouldn't want to share her; not like that. Not with guys, anyway. "Not a porn star. Well, maybe lesbian porn ... nah, shit, I don't know. A model?"
"Flattering," and she batted her lashes at him, "but nope. You were closer with the porn thing."
He puzzled while he devoured his food. "Do you maybe work for a porn distributor or something?"
"Oh, close enough. I work at Good Vibrations. Sells women-oriented porn and toys." A knowing look. "Why do you think I've got such a collection? I can't recommend what I haven't tried..."
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Crissy's brow furrowed. "Zack, we have to go left to catch the bridge."
Not meeting her gaze, he kept going the other way. "Yeah, it's okay, I just need to check something real quick."
She was puzzled for a moment, then her blood ran cold. {He wouldn't ... not now ... But he did seem a little distracted after breakfast... }
Her heart sank in her chest as he turned into the same gas station where the whole adventure had begun yesterday. He parked and stared forward. "I have to try. Just in case."
"Why? What could you make better? Aren't you happy?" Despair consumed her.
He looked almost as sad as she felt, but determined, too. "Hell, yeah. Crissy, you're unbelievable. But Chris ... I mean, I don't know if you're him, or if I ... killed him or something to make you..." He sighed. "It's not right. I have to try. If it were the other way around..."
"It is the other way around!" she exclaimed. "You'd be killing me! And if I were Chris, under some spell ... well, how do you think he'd feel about you fucking him over and over?"
He flinched. "I'll deal with that if I have to, I just..." He looked away. "I'm sorry, this is killing me."
"No, it's killing me," she muttered bitterly. She listened as he got out of the truck. After a moment, in morbid curiosity, she went after him. She couldn't just leave. {What's the point of life without Zack?}
He was feeding money into the machine. A long pause, and he hit the Mountain Dew button. Thunk, the bottle fell. Slowly he pulled it out, and, not looking at her, he opened it and took a swig.
Numb, Crissy watched him fidget with the remote for a few seconds. He started to turn in her direction, then reversed and faced the truck. Chirp.
The engine started up. Zack let out his pent-up breath in a rush.
They were taking the San Mateo across the bay, and had almost made it to the far end. Crissy had ignored Zack's fumbling apologies and the only talking was from the GPS system occasionally advising Zack when to turn. She just sat on the passenger side, looking out the window.
{He wanted to get rid of me!} she thought, heartbroken. Crying seemed hopelessly inadequate. The whole scene at the gas station played back in her mind, as it had many times since she'd gotten back in the truck, lacking anything better to do.
But this time she noticed something. He hadn't tried the remote on her, he'd pointed it at the truck first.
And he'd been relieved it hadn't worked; she knew him too well to miss it, now that she was getting over her shock. Looking at it from his perspective, it almost made sense. His words had not been empty.
One of the things she admired about him was his loyalty to his friends and lovers and family. And Chris had been this Zack's friend. {But it didn't work.}
She turned to him. She had to know. "You really didn't want it to work, did you?"
"No," he said, glancing her way repeatedly, as if trying to make sure he didn't miss the expressions on her face. "I feel a little guilty saying that, but you're ... incredible. It's just, Chris was annoying sometimes, but he was my friend, and..." he trailed off.
She noted his use of the past tense. "And you owed it to him. You wouldn't be the man I love if you didn't try." She paused a moment. "Chris doesn't feel real to me, I forget that he was to you."
"Well, what's done is done, I guess." He looked her way again. "I can't say I'm disappointed with how things turned out."
She froze in a sudden rush of understanding. {He tried. It wasn't his fault the magic ran out yesterday, he didn't know! And now he's done everything he could, he can't go back.} She felt a sudden rush of gratitude for whatever had arranged all this. It had even minimized his guilt.
It was like the sun had come out from behind clouds; the color came back to Crissy's world. Even her hurt reaction would help him adjust, she realized, help him really accept her as a separate person. Zack was already falling for her; with Chris out of the picture, that loyalty would shift her way.
He went on, confirming her suspicions. "You bought the ticket. It was your idea. It should really be you getting the money."
She was deeply touched by the gesture. "No, it wouldn't be a winner without you. It's your money." She grinned. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be willing to share a little. I mean, a girl like me deserves a killer wardrobe, right?"
"Damn straight," Zack replied. "But seriously, we'll split it. I at least owe you that."
"You don't have to..."
"Yeah, I do."
Once they presented themselves and their ticket at the Lottery office, the supervisor, one Carla Brannigan, had quickly appeared and ushered them to her office. Before the couple could ask any questions, she was already telling them what to expect. She didn't foresee any problems verifying their claim, but it would take a day or so of processing. Their names would be published and they would have to give one press conference.
Most importantly, she confirmed no other jackpot tickets had been sold. They had won the whole $181 million. "That's plenty big, but it's not a record or anything. It won't attract much media attention," Carla said, a bit regretfully.
Carla made a desultory try to convince them to take the annuity option, but they insisted on the cash payout, even though it was lower. With taxes and such, they would net 72 million dollars.
{It took care of everything, } Crissy thought. Exchanging glances with Zack, she saw he'd had the same idea. He didn't want a media circus either, and the amount was exactly what the old prize had been. {Even the taxes.}
"As long as you don't go insane with it, that should last forever," Brannigan noted. "Money like that attracts cash faster than you can spend it, if you've got any sense. Just put it in a money market account and it'll make two million a year," she said, smiling. "And you can invest it better than that. I'm not supposed to recommend any money managers, but unofficially, I know of a few that past winners have been pleased with..."
As they got to work on the claim forms, Crissy reflected on the whirlwind events of yesterday and today. She still wasn't sure exactly what had happened. Her memories and identity as Crissy felt rock-solid, certain, incontrovertible. 'Chris' was a pale ghost - the memories were just data, with no emotional connection. From her perspective, they were 'grafted in' at that moment in the parking lot.
{Was I really changed? Or did I already exist, and this Zack and Chris' memories were 'brought here' from another universe or something? Maybe 'my' Zack has a new buddy, Chris?} she pondered.
And maybe she really was a transformed Chris, rationalizing her own brainwashing.
Ultimately she decided she just didn't care. However this had come about, it was exactly what she wanted and she wouldn't change a thing, even if it were possible now. She was happy when Zack was happy, and he was very happy. She could tell. Besides, Chris had never been this joyful in his whole life.
A realization struck her. Whether created or found, she had somehow been selected as Zack's fantasy. He wasn't into nonconsensual sex; he wanted his girl to have a good time. He didn't want to dominate his partner. ({Not all the time, anyway, } she thought as she grinned, a pleasant flush spreading through her as she imagined the games they could play.) He liked smart, flirtatious, adventurous, uninhibited women.
Some women had to work to please their man, and put up with at least some things they didn't like. All she had to do was act naturally, as she wanted. And Zack would love it.
The return drive across the bridge had been much more cheerful. "Oh my God, Zack, 72 fucking million dollars! We can do anything, go anywhere!" Crissy exclaimed for probably the tenth time as they pulled into a parking spot by their apartment building. Since most people were still at work, it was close to their door again.
Zack had done well focusing on driving, but the grin hadn't left his face in over an hour. "I know, I know," he said again, also probably for the tenth time. The engine shut off, and Crissy spilled onto his lap.
After some very heavy petting, Zack spoke up. "I've been thinking. All of this ... it's so ... it's too much. We should do something with the money. Something good. Like, set up a charity for kids, give it maybe 30 million." He grinned a bit sheepishly. "I mean, I think we can make do with 40 mil or so."
Crissy just stared for the longest time. Zack lost his grin and started to look concerned. That spurred her to action. She hugged him as hard as she could, and cried, "No wonder I love you so much!"
Eventually they made it out of the truck, up the stairs, and into their apartment. It took several minutes, what with all the breaks for torrid kisses and giddy laughter and so forth.
As they fell onto the couch, Crissy sighed, "God, it's just perfect, everything's so perfect!" She lay her whole body on top of his, kissing his face, neck, hair, anything in reach. "As if you weren't enough!"
For some reason, that seemed to sober Zack up a little, and he looked in her eyes. "Crissy, why do you love me? I mean, it's not like I'm some awesome catch..."
She laughed. "You kidding? You're sweet, thoughtful, generous, gorgeous, amazing in bed, and now you're rich, too!"
He still looked doubtful. "Try telling Karen that."
An exasperated sigh interrupted him. "Karen can go fuck herself. She never treated you right anyway. I love you because I've lived with you for years, and I know you. Why can't you just accept it and be happy?"
"But would you feel that way if I hadn't..."
"Yes, I would. I mean, why does anybody love anybody? You make me happy."
A long pause. "I just ... It's still too much. I don't deserve this."
"Something thought you deserved this. I do."
"I don't even know what could have done all this. Aliens?"
Grabbing his face, she bent low and stared intensely into his eyes. "I don't care. I don't care if it was aliens or sunspots or an Act of Congress that 'made' me love you! I love you, and you had better get used to it!"
Slowly, he smiled, and she matched him. "I'm sorry. Everything's so great, I just have a hard time believing it. I keep looking for a catch." Something seemed to loosen, to let go inside him. "But there isn't one, is there?" he asked, wonderingly.
"No, and I won't let you invent one. Get your clothes off, we've had, like, two fights today and we're about to have our first make-up sex."
Zack started, then he began yanking his shirt up over his head. Crissy was right behind. Very soon they were naked. Though it made the logistics of their stripping more difficult, she stayed on top. Zack was, for the moment, following her lead. Crissy was gratified to see how quickly he was ready - frustratingly few of her girlfriends had gotten aroused as rapidly as she usually did.
The couch was fairly deep so there was room for her to straddle him. He reached up for her breasts, but she pushed his arms back down. "No, obviously I need to prove how much I love you," she proclaimed mock-seriously. "You just lay back and don't move." She loved games and playing the 'haughty mistresses' sounded like fun.
She reached between her legs, grasping Zack's engorged dick. Sliding the tip back and forth along the moist channel between her labia, she simultaneously excited and lubricated him. He shifted a little and she gave him a very stern, admonishing look, continuing to tease him.
He stilled. After a few moments, she positioned herself and, sitting down, enveloped him. Despite her attempt to maintain an amused, almost detached demeanor, it forced a small gasp out of her. Even the most supple dildo had never felt as good, as right as Zack's cock. She saw in his eyes that he'd noticed her flustered expression, the crack in her facade.
Recovering, she reasserted command of her face and began to move. Up and down, with more and more force. Then she paused at the top of her stroke and moved her hips in small circles, swirling her pussy around him. Her aristocratic smile widened, very slightly, at his low groan.
Pausing a moment, with him half inside her, she ran her nails along his chest. She gave him a 'wave' squeeze with her vaginal muscles - pinching first the opening, and then farther in. It took concentration and practice, but she'd amused a few girlfriends before with that skill. Judging from Zack's wide eyes, it worked even better on pricks than fingers.
She eased back down, taking her time. He took in a sharp breath as she settled onto his hips. {So deep... } The mask of her face didn't betray her feelings, but the wetness that had doused his pubic hair must have given him some indication. Her own hips moved forward and back, her clitoris sparking as it slid along. She pulled back further each time, stretching, flexing his erection more and more. {Just a hint of pain, a little uncertainty. Make him wonder how far I'll take it. Key him up... }
Back to penetration. Up, down. She tried to keep a firm rein on her thoughts, but it was so easy to stimulate her favorite spots, and he felt so astounding inside her, that gradually she lost track of herself. Eventually she was moaning, her eyes closed and her back arched. The walls of her vagina pulsed rhythmically; squeezing him delighted her, and she was just glad he seemed to enjoy it, too.
She dropped forward, supporting herself with her arms, eyes still closed. Breathing raggedly, but still pumping. Zack's hands began to stroke her legs; she opened her eyes and beheld his slightly awed expression.
His touch, his eyes; Crissy's control wavered. By force of will, she kept her orgasm at bay, maintaining her steady motion. Fingertips slid past her hips, up her sides, stopping just beside her breasts. She couldn't push them away; she felt she'd explode if she even acknowledged them.
It couldn't have lasted like that for very long, but time was moving very strangely for her now. Some period later, she heard Zack pant her name. "Crissy...", almost whispering.
He was breathing hard, too. His eyes glowed. No longer caring anymore about her game, unable to hold back from the wave of emotion swamping her, she fell onto him, mashing mouth and tongue with his, groaning as a nova of pleasure set her body aflame. And yet, some part of her was distinctly aware of his thrusting, his coming.
Faint echoes of their gasps came to her ears. They lay awhile, limp on the couch, lungs slowly catching up with the rest of their bodies. Recognizing the look in his eyes, Crissy was satisfied. {I guess I proved it after all... }
Celebrations were certainly in order, and their credit cards could fund an expensive night on the town even though the money wouldn't be awarded until tomorrow. Zack had spent some time on the phone making sure their bank would be ready for the fund transfers while Crissy got ready.
As Zack was hanging up the phone from making their reservations, she stepped out from her bedroom wearing her 'special occasion little black dress'. It was a short, sheer, stretchy, form-hugging tube mini-dress that ran from just over her nipples down just past her derriere. Strips of translucent mesh, a few inches wide, ran up both sides, crisscrossed with laces. Almost every movement flashed her matching (and skimpy) black panties. The heels on her strappy black pumps weren't outrageously high - they were going dancing, after all - but still set her legs off nicely.
She hadn't slathered on the makeup, feeling that subtle worked best in that area. Simple hoop earrings were her only jewelry. She stopped at the end of hall and posed.
Zack let out a low whistle. "Whoa. You are so hot!" He looked her up and down, wolfishly.
No matter how many times it happened, she melted inside whenever Zack complimented her looks, noticed her as a woman. Smiling with undisguised joy, she said, "Come on, baby, let's get you ready."
Dressing up Zack in some of his nicer clothes had been like a trip back to her girlhood, except none of her dolls had been anatomically correct. Or smelled so good. Or kissed back.
He was idling the truck in line for the valet station at the restaurant as she inspected the repairs to her makeup in the visor mirror. She decided everything was in order as they pulled up to the front entrance. Giggling at the valet's almost bug-eyed stare, she allowed him to help her out of the truck. She waited until Zack joined her; then, arm-in-arm, they walked in.
It was quite a high-end establishment. Crissy had eaten here once, during a torrid affair with a doctor - the same one who'd given her the high-tech phone. A few eyebrows were raised (and heads turned) at her dress, but they were seated briskly in a comfortable rounded booth.
When they ordered their meals Zack asked for recommendations on wine and chose the most expensive, of course. He'd always been a bit shy in formal situations, and just by her appearance they were drawing attention, but he didn't seem as nervous as she'd expected. She was proud of him. {I knew you had it in you, baby!}
Could her confidence in him be making him feel more confident? She'd read somewhere that being seen with an attractive woman raised a man's social status, and she'd certainly tried to make herself attractive. {Suddenly being filthy rich probably doesn't hurt either.} Now that she thought to look, some of the furtive glances at their table were at Zack, particularly from the women.
All these thoughts percolated at the back of her mind, but the vast majority of her attention was on being out on a date with the man she loved. Letting everyone see she was his woman. Maybe it was her traditional upbringing, but there was something almost instinctually satisfying about the whole affair.
As they talked, making all sorts of wild plans for their newfound wealth, she played footsie with him. Gripped by a sudden naughty impulse, she glanced around, thinking. {The tablecloth is down to the floor ... and it'll be at least twenty minutes before the food comes... }
She slid around the curve of the booth to get next to him, then leaned in and gave him a big kiss. The equipment she was working on was still a bit unfamiliar, but she'd always been good with her hands. It took Zack a few seconds to realize what she was doing.
"Wha ... what the hell?" he exclaimed, quietly but intensely, looking around frantically to see if anyone had noticed, his hand joining hers at his crotch.
"Relax," she said breezily, "no one can see anything." She dexterously batted his hand away and finished extracting his member. "I just realized, I haven't given you a handjob yet, and this is a perfect place for it." Maintaining an innocent expression, she went on evenly, "But someone might notice if you keep wriggling like that."
"Are you crazy?" he asked softly, sliding forward to hide his lower body, trying not to draw attention.
"No," she smiled, "rich people are eccentric. Besides, Little Zack here isn't acting shy." It was true; he was stiffening rapidly as she stroked and fondled his prick under the table, careful to keep the visible part of her arm still.
Catching Zack's eyes, never pausing her fingertips on his cock, she reached out with a knife in her other hand and cut a bit of butter from the ball in front of them. She picked it up and snaked it under the table. He flinched slightly as the cold butter touched him, but it speedily melted. Her hand glided smoothly now. "Don't worry, I'll lick it off later," she whispered, an innocent expression on her face as her fingers tweaked the head of his rock-hard penis.
Zack was a bit flushed and breathing deeply at this point. He stared as she almost daintily tongued the butter off the fingers of her free hand. He'd been trying to see if anyone was paying them any mind, but as she worked he'd become understandably distracted. Thus the sudden appearance of their waitress clearly caught him by surprise.
"Your salads should be out any minute now. Is everything all right? Can I get you anything?" she asked.
Zack was silent, but Crissy gave her a demure smile and said, "Actually, I could use a little more water..." Her hand didn't pause.
"Of course, just a moment." She ambled off toward the kitchen. Crissy continued to jerk Zack off. It felt delicious, a mix of power and supplication. She was both mistress and servant, in control and devoted to his pleasure.
His hands rested on the table; Crissy could see the tension as they pressed down but she doubted anyone else would notice. Her other hand deftly brought the napkin from her lap to his dick as she sensed he was getting close.
"God, I love the way you look when you're about to come," she said quietly, gazing into his eyes. "Like a beast, a bull, a lion. Like nothing could stop you." No one would have guessed what she was saying from her cheerful, carefree manner.
Zack let out a soft grunt as he began pumping his load, which she caught in the cloth. She continued stroking, squeezing out the last of his ejaculate and wiping off most of the butter. She brought her hands out from under the table and set the crumpled serviette aside.
Their waitress returned as Zack was recovering. "There you go," she said, filling Crissy's glass. If she noticed his somewhat feverish appearance she gave no sign. "Do you need anything else?"
"Yes, can I get another napkin, please?"
Crissy swayed, bouncing her hips and waving her arms. She was a great dancer, and she knew it. Zack wasn't exactly Fred Astaire but she worked to make him look good. {He sure looks good to me!}
Getting into the nightclub had been no problem at all. The truck by itself had helped them stand out, and her appearance and status as a regular, along with a substantial honorarium for the doorman, ensured they were 'added to the mix' without the slightest wait. They'd been dancing for almost an hour now, having a blast.
She turned and backed into Zack, grinding her ass into his crotch, giving him a good freak. Her hands went above her head as his settled onto her hips. They moved in unison, and she only wished they were doing in reality what they were miming.
The song ended, another blending in. She whirled out of his grasp and faced him; she wanted to see him, watch his body in motion. She never tired of that. Her arms still raised, she worked in some belly-dancing moves she'd learned from an old girlfriend. The desire in Zack's eyes was most encouraging, as were the scattering of appreciative catcalls from nearby dancers. They had been drawing a bit of attention.
She moved in tight, and they rocked back and forth, arms about each other. They kissed urgently as Zack's hand roamed to her butt, pulling her close. Her moan was inaudible over the blasting music but she suspected the emotion that drove it was being clearly conveyed.
That song started winding down, and in the relative quiet, he shouted, "I'm thirsty! Wanna hit the bar?"
"Sounds good!" she called back. "Meet you there! Gotta hit the ladies room!" She snuck one glance at his rear as he strode away.
It was much quieter in the bathroom, though it was a little crowded and several conversations were in progress. She checked herself in the mirror as she waited for a stall. {A little sweaty, but everything's still in place.}
Someone called out from by the sinks, "Damn, Crissy, it really is you!" She turned, recognizing the voice. Taniqua was the girlfriend of a co-worker. "I thought I was trippin'. I never seen any girl had less use for men!"
"Just my Zack," she replied, beaming. There was no point in hiding it, even if she'd any inclination to. But she had a good idea what was coming as Renee came out of a stall, a frown on her face.
Crissy slid past her and closed the door, but Renee still began lecturing. "I can't believe you would fall into some phallocentric crypto-slavery! Bad enough most womyn identify with their oppressors too much to..."
"Oh, give it a rest," Crissy interrupted. "This isn't work, I don't have to listen to that crap." {Hey, I don't have to go to work anymore!} She liked her job, but that was still a happy thought. Work had its downsides, Renee being a sizable one. The militant started to take advantage of the pause, but Crissy drove on. "It isn't political with me, I'm just not into guys. Except one."
"Womyn will never be free as long as so many keep fraternizing with the enemy..."
Another voice interrupted this time. "Guys ain't 'the enemy'. Oh, sure, a good half of 'em are assholes, but there's decent ones, too." A smile crept into the voice. "And some of 'em are so damn fuckable."
Cayleigh
- 08.02.2023
- 5
- 0
