《Kaiba's Prostitute》Chapter 35: We Need to Talk
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Author's Note: This chapter has been approved by my husband. I like to call him Male or Man. He likes to call me Woman or Female. Sometimes Male talks about himself in third person and it is really cute. What you're about to read is based on how we actually interact at home. Of course, Michael isn't Male's real name, but I've dated three Michaels and had sex with four people who share my husband's first name, so that's why I use Michael. Brother-in-law's name has also been changed.
Chapter song: "Drop 'Em Out" by Wheeler Walker Jr.
Chapter 35: We Need to Talk
Joan woke to Seto stroking her hair as she lay ensconced in Mokuba's arms. "Whore," he said softly.
"Hm?"
"Get dressed. You're going to be late."
IUD removal, right, Joan thought. She pried Mokuba's arms off herself. "Do I have time for a shower?"
"Make it quick."
Joan rinsed off, brushed her teeth, and put on a clean dress. Tamara showed up with breakfast burritos for the ride, and Seto kissed Joan before the women headed down to the limo.
Finally alone with her charge, Tamara fished for a way to break the ice. "So . . . what do we need to pack for Japan?"
Joan swallowed a mouthful of burrito before speaking. "The usual, I guess. It's not like we'll be backpacking through the countryside or anything out there. We'll probably want power adapters. Make sure our phones are all set up to work out there. Roland is probably on top of that already."
"True. He put in a rush order for my passport and said he'd get the rest of the paperwork in order too. It's almost creepy how fast these rich boys make things move."
"Tell me about it. I once had to wait two months to see a doctor, and here they just throw who knows how much money at one and boom!"
"Are you nervous?"
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"Always. Show me someone who isn't."
"I don't know. Those Kaiba boys seem to have their shit together."
"It's an act, even for them. I'm not going to spill their secrets, but they have issues just like you and me."
"So that's your secret to handling the big bad CEOs, huh? You see them as flawed from the start, so they don't scare you."
"More or less. As long as I'm not facing twenty of them at once, it's all good."
With that, Joan and Tamara began building a friendship. They talked about their upbringing and childhood aspirations as well as some of the road bumps and twists they encountered along the way. Tamara discovered that Joan had also been a Girl Scout, and they began swapping some of their old favorite songs.
As expected, Joan's IUD removal procedure hurt, but otherwise it went smoothly. She said goodbye to Tamara at the doorstep of her apartment and headed inside.
Joan found her muscular, tattooed husband in the bedroom wearing nothing but shorts and relaxing in his usual way: glued to his computer screen and chatting on his headset. "Hello, Male."
"Hello, Woman," Michael returned.
Joan rested her chin on Michael's bald head and peered at the screen. She recognized her brother-in-law's username. "Hi Jake! Change your mind yet?"
"Jake says no," Michael relayed.
"Figures. Hey, you guys ever play Monsters of the Duel?"
"Jake says it's not his kind of game," Michael relayed. He didn't bother adding his own opinion, too lost in a mountain of trolls.
Joan gnawed on Michael's head while she watched him play.
"Hey Jake, wanna come over and handle this pesky woman for me? I think it wants something."
Joan turned and emptied the dirty clothes from her backpack into a plastic laundry basket, then tossed in the clothes she was wearing for good measure. She plopped onto the bed. "I'm ready for my semen now!"
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Michael got to a stopping point in his game and set his headset aside. "Boobs!" He grabbed a handful of miniature silicone breasts that Joan had given him for Christmas. He threw them at her one-by-one, and she threw them back until most of them lay scattered on the floor or lost in the bed.
Joan bared her teeth in a playful snarl and hauled him into bed by the elastic waistband of his shorts. He collapsed on top of her and pretended to snore until Joan pinched and tickled him out of it. He pinched and tickled her back as they tumbled and Joan wrestled his shorts off.
Michael growled and got back on top, pinning her shoulders to the bed as he entered her and crushed his lips against hers. He pounded eight inches of solid cock against her cervix while she squealed and writhed.
On the edge of climax but not quite there, Michael pulled out and flipped Joan into doggie position. He gripped her hips for leverage as he slid her over his cock, modulating the pace until it felt just right. Hot sperm surged into her vagina and began swimming to her deepest recesses.
"Aaaand you're pregnant," Michael declared as he disengaged.
"Possible but unlikely. It's day 23 of my cycle," Joan said.
"Damn. I should have saved that jizz for Linda," Michael teased. He grabbed a paper towel and stuck it between Joan's labia to catch the dripout.
Joan rolled into a sitting position and wiped with the extra paper towels he tossed beside her. "You trying already?"
"No. I figured we should actually talk to you about it first. I don't trust the rich boys to do your talking for you."
"After last night, I trust them."
Michael lay beside her and encircled her in his arms. "That was impressive, but I'm still not a hundred percent convinced. It will take time to prove that you're not just their new toy."
"They did actually pay off my student loans, you know."
"That's still mere pocket change to them."
"So four months? That will be enough to convince you?"
"Maybe. If they impregnated you now and did a DNA test to make sure it was theirs, they'd probably pay child support, but at the same time they might abandon you or worse, take the kid to be raised in Japan and never let you see it again. These guys can do whatever the fuck they want, and that's scary. I don't want you getting hurt over them."
Joan took a deep breath and tried to imagine the scenarios Michael described. "We're already past the point where I could walk away from this unscathed."
"Shit." Michael let this roll around in his head for a moment. "Hey, what happened to the other Michael?"
"He bailed."
Michael's grip tightened.
"Don't worry about it," Joan said, "I knew he was on his way out anyway."
"Yeah, I never expected him to last, but what makes you think the rich boys will be any different?"
"A lot of little things. Mokuba texting you. Seto inviting Marc in for a threesome like it was nothing. We're not dealing with 'Disney children' like the guys I worked with."
"Fucking wusses," Michael grumbled, recalling how Joan's office sweethearts had turned their backs on her.
Joan sighed, regretting bringing up old ghosts. She needed to change the subject fast. "How about you and Linda, though? What makes her want another kid all of a sudden?"
"It's not that sudden, actually. She's been agonizing over it since she turned thirty-nine."
Michael elaborated on Linda's reasons until they grew hungry. They went to the kitchen and scraped together a meal while they continued to lay out plans for the future. Michael refused to bank on a continuous stream of cash from the Kaibas, and with the student loans cleared, they could start saving. Joan agreed it was a reasonable precaution.
A text from Linda interrupted their long-overdue conversation: I'm coming over. We need to talk.
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System OMEGA
One day every person on the planet suddenly received a message warning the end of human supremacy over the planet, and at the same time alerting the humans in order to prepare. The message was seen as a joke by everyone or almost. In the period in which the MC starts some training there will be a time skip, and show only the necessary parts, interesting or that affect the story. I don't have the patience to read or write entire chapters just MC doing nothing but train. And likely the MC stay well OP. This and an amateur fiction only in order to improve my skills as a writer. Please write your reviews they are welcome. The English not my native language, any errors, please let me know. The image of the cover is not my own. I found the image in Google images. All rights reserved for the owner of the image.
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