Computer Virus

Pushing the weirdness aside, I put it down to stress, lack of sleep, the ale, and instead I concentrated on the immediate -- Alexandra's gorgeous breasts.

I let my senses feast on Alexandra's pliant flesh. The nipples thickened and grew between my lips as I sucked, their areola tightening and shrinking. My fingers and palms caressed smooth skin while my ears heard Alexandra's soft crooning, her sighs, and her lewd exhortations. I could smell her, a hint of soap, talcum powder, and her perfume.

'I know you've always liked women with large breasts, Peter. I know it all, all about you.' She gently pushed my face from her body. Holding my cheeks between her palms she spoke directly to me. Wine-scented breath breezed the words: 'Play with your cock.'

I unzipped and unbuckled in seconds, fingers scrabbling at the button and belt before I shrugged my jeans down to my thighs.

'Alexandra,' I moaned when, with my fist moving slowly along my erection. The woman eased the blouse over her shoulders. I groaned again when the bra fell to the floor on top of the blouse. Alexandra took her time, teasing me with her eyes and her smile as she unclipped the hooks at the waist of the skirt. Another murmur slipped from me, my eyes bulging when she slowly, tantalisingly slid the skirt over her hips. Alexandra's breasts swayed with the side-to-side movement of her hips as the tight garment reluctantly ceded territory and more of her skin was exposed.

I heard a voice croak, a door creaking open on rusting hinges, and realised it came from me. 'Can I fuck you?'

A slight tilt of the head, lips forming a moue as she considered the prospect, skirt at mid-thigh, I could see the plump outline of Alexandra's pudenda nestled in febrile white cotton. 'Have you got any condoms?' she asked.

It was a practical consideration I hadn't thought of. The answer was a negative. But then a thought occurred to me, a counterproductive argument about the necessity of contraception.

'If you're not human,' I heard myself say. 'I mean, if you're from ... uh ... a parallel universe or something ... Why do we need condoms?'

In that pose, hip cocked, skirt at half mast, breasts no longer swaying, immobile and staring, Alexandra patiently explained. 'I explained in the pub. I am real, I was just ... trapped in a place that isn't quite here. If we do it, if I let you fuck me, and we don't use any protection, I could find myself up the duff. It's a big risk, Peter, and one I'm not willing to take.'

At that moment, with the heat of lust boiling, such was the intensity of the madness that gripped me, I didn't really care about impregnating Alexandra.

'Please ...' I whimpered.

'Perhaps another time' she lied, keeping me keen.

She had an agenda and had to keep me on the boil. She needn't have been concerned for there was no going back for me now. If I couldn't fuck her, anything else that she allowed would do.

Alexandra continued: 'Just stroke yourself and watch me strip.' The skirt slid down her legs; I gulped when her fingers hooked into the waist of her knickers. 'Would you like to lick me?' A quick bend at the waist and a raised foot and Alexandra stepped out of her underwear. Fists against her hips, elbows bent, still wearing black, heeled shoes, Alexandra tilted her head. Her eyes questioned me: Well, they said, what do you think?

'Fucking hell,' I swore. 'I've got to fuck you.'

'You naughty boy,' Alexandra replied, looking round for somewhere to recline. 'Lick me instead ... for now. I'll sort you out in a minute.' She moved to the two-seater sofa I sometimes used when I needed to read through some work documents. Still dressed, jeans rumpled to the tops of my knees, fist around my erect cock, I watched her move. All the right bits trembled and swayed, while the parts that I preferred taut remained that way. Alexandra unfurled her body and lay back against the padded cushion of the sofa. 'Lick me,' she repeated, opening her legs to reveal meaty labia. 'Lick my cunt.' I dropped to my knees in front of her, almost falling on top of her with my legs tangled in my jeans. A laugh bubbled from Alexandra as she held herself wide open with her fingertips. 'Do you like what you see, Peter?' Her eyes glinted with secret knowledge. 'It isn't very pretty down there is it?' I had to agree that her sex might be considered ugly by some, and in my head I heard an expression I'd heard used in some dim and distant time, an inglorious simile: a gash like an axe wound. 'But you like it that way, don't you? You love piss-flaps with character,' Alexandra purred. Her smirk taunted me. She knew me so well, somehow knew my tainted tastes 'Women with big breasts and large clits ...' she continued, now rubbing at herself.

'How can you know?' I muttered, eyes fixed on the ugly-beauty between her legs. I heard the computer monitor fizz and crackle again. A smell came to me then, a charred electrical smell like burnt out wiring. I daren't turn and look behind me. I was afraid of what I might see there.

'Lick me, Peter,' Alexandra murmured, seeing the fright in my face. She pulled my head up to face her. 'It's nothing. Ignore the computer. It's just us ... You and me. I'm your ideal woman, Peter. Lick me. Taste my cunt ...' She shifted her weight, sliding her buttocks forward and raising her knees. She opened her legs as wide as she could manage and exposed all of herself to me. Her insistent hands eased my head down.

When I tasted her, felt the viscous slide of her oiling my tongue, heard her sigh and moan. I was lost. With my tongue squirming and curling in her opening I could see up over the contours of her body, and I reached for the mounds of Alexandra's breasts. Squirming, my knees on the carpet, with one hand now massaging and mauling tit flesh, I took hold of my cock and began to wank its length.

Whatever was going on in that room, whatever gross anomaly occurred behind me, at that moment I didn't give a shit. My whole universe was this woman, whoever she was, wherever she came from. I slobbered and laved at her, tonguing the dribbling opening, licking the distended pink and slippery nub of her clitoris before sucking the thing into my mouth.

'Your hot breath on my pussy,' Alexandra gasped, fingers sliding through my hair, her nails rough on my scalp as her fingers clawed at me. 'I can feel you panting against me down there ... Lick me. Lick me ... Fucking. Lick. Me ...'

My exhausted tongue felt raw, like it was hanging by a tattered thread of skin. I'd abandoned my erection, foregoing my own masturbatory pleasures with the effort of taking Alexandra to the peak. I reasoned that if I could get her so wound up, so desperately turned on that, when I asked again to fuck her, she'd acquiesce gladly. I was desperate for her, burned with desire for her; I'd do anything, ,i>say anything to just stab my cock into her body. Even the possibility of impregnating her was an insignificant detail I was so far gone.

And of course I forgot all about the strangeness behind me.

'No more,' Alexandra gasped. 'My clit ... it's tingling ... No more.' She pushed me away. 'Get out of those clothes,' Alexandra instructed. 'It's time to sort you out.' Her legs swung down, heels digging into the carpet.

'Can I fuck you? Please?' as I stood and scrabbled out of my clothes.

'No,' came the reply. Alexandra hesitated. Then she added: 'Maybe ... Maybe another time.'

I detected the lie, some kind of deflection. Was that guilt in her tone?

'Alexandra ... Please,' I persisted.

'My tits,' she said, ignoring the entreaty. 'Use my breasts.' Alexandra leaned forward and reached for my cock. She pulled me by the root, closer to her so her hand could move along the length of me. I groaned. 'Come on,' she murmured, eyes glazed. 'Spunk over my tits.'

'Oh, shit ... Alexandra,' I moaned. Her hand felt so good sliding up and down. 'Lick the head,' I sighed. 'Please ... If I can't fuck you ... Just a little lick.'

'You're a persistent bugger.' But she grinned.

I watched the blonde head dip. Yes, I thought. Suck it. Suck my cock.

Alexandra kept her eyes on mine as the pink tip of her tongue appeared. With a slow, teasing wink she flicked a quick lick across the domed head of my cock.

'Bad boy,' she grinned, her hand moving against me.

"More,' I pleaded. 'Again ...'

'You bad, bad boy.' But she did it. Alexandra took the tip into her mouth, her cheeks concave as her fist continued its slide along my length from the root to her mouth. 'Are you going to come for me?' Alexandra asked, eyes shining. Her breasts enveloped my cock. 'Do it for me soon. Just let it all go. Let the hot stuff squirt over me. Spunk all over my big tits, Peter. You want to, don't you? I know you want to.'

I heard the crackle and fizz behind me smelled the burning again. Alexandra, with my cock popping up at intervals like a clockwork mole snuffling blindly up from the earth between her breasts, stared around me at whatever scene was unfolding behind. For an instant I thought I saw a flicker of emotion on her face, as if she regretted what she was doing. Not so much the act with me, but the situation as a whole. Of course, being where I was, with my hard-on being massaged by slippery tit-flesh, so close to coming, I let it all pass by.

I choked a warning. 'Alexandra ...'

'Do it, Peter. Spunk on my -- Oh!'

The first squirt ricocheted off Alexandra's cheek, clinging in a thick, waggling rope from her hair. Another spattered across her face, a dollop of jizm that decorated her chin, mouth and cheek with a paint-ball splat of viscous goo.

Then, as I groaned and grimaced, my body contorting in the agony of ecstatic release, Alexandra, after her surprised exclamation over the force of my ejaculation, had the presence of mind to aim the spitting eye of my cock at her breasts.

'All over my tits,' she squealed. 'Go on, baby. All over me.'

And I garlanded her tits with spurt after spurt of semen. When it was over the stuff was sliding over her skin, dripping off her breasts and spattering into her lap. Dollops of the stuff decorated her chest and throat, and Alexandra looked, with some distaste, at the stuff coating her wrist.

My orgasm tapered, cooling to a dribbling ooze from my cock-head.

'Alex,' I sighed.

'I have to go.' The declaration caught me by surprise. Alexandra stood, dropping my drooling cock and pushing me away.

'What?' I spluttered. I watched, open-mouthed with surprise as, ignoring the goo covering her breasts, Alexandra began to dress.

Where the hell was she going looking like that? There was spunk on her face. Didn't she care?

Leaving her underwear, she flicked the blouse to cover her shoulders. 'It's your turn now,' she said. 'I was trapped until I found someone to release me.' She looked at me and I saw the regret resurface in her expression. 'I'm sorry, Peter, but I had to do it. Just like you have to if you want to get out.'

She wasn't making sense and I told her so.

'The machine,' she explained, hurriedly hitching the skirt over those broad hips. Covering the plump pudenda I craved so badly. 'You'll figure it out. You'll have time.'

'What are you talking about?' I asked as a wet bloom of my semen bled through the front of Alexandra's blouse rendering it patchily opaque.

'I have to go,' she insisted, ineffectually cuffing at the gloop on her face and smearing my jizm across her cheek.

When I turned to follow her, to object at her hurried departure, to demand more of an explanation, I saw that, impossibly, the screen on my small laptop had ... stretched, and now encompassed almost the entire wall space from the desk upwards.

Reality distorted for me. My mind slewed, unable to process what my eyes were telling my brain. Nearly overwhelmed with dizziness I staggered, clutching at the back of the sofa for support. White noise hissed in my head while dots burst and then floated in front of my eyes. Resisting the gorge rising in my throat I staggered after Alexandra who was, by now, at the front door.

She turned her face towards me. 'I'm sorry,' she said, and opened the door. 'You'll figure it out,' she added. Then, as the door slammed, signalling Alexandra's departure, I heard a loud pop from the study. Ignoring the sound and my nudity, I opened the door through which the woman had so recently fled.

I fought down the urge to be sick. If I did I was sure I'd vomit my sanity, which hung by the merest sliver to a dangerously unbalanced mind at that point, into the grey, boiling mist I encountered.

Nakedness notwithstanding, there was no way I was going to step into that awful, toxic cloud. I could feel its malignance. Gasping at the burnt, electric taste grating harshly at the back of my throat, I slammed the front door on the alien scene in front of me, my back sliding down the door.

What the hell was going on? This couldn't be happening.

An indeterminate time later, when I'd recovered sufficiently to begin to fathom what had happened, when I hauled myself unevenly back to the study, I saw the laptop screen had reverted to its usual dimensions -- a modicum of normalcy. Although, when I examined the image on the monitor, I saw myself, as I was, hunched over the desk, staring into the machine in which I was now somehow trapped. And the figure in the monitor was also hunched over examining the same scene. As was the one inside that, an infinite number of me, all caught.

Eventually, after what to me seemed like weeks, during which I had no need to eat, to drink, to perform any usually human function, as though the machine sustained me, I figured what I had to do.

To escape the prison in which Alexandra had found herself, the one I now occupied, she had to find someone out there in the ether. It turned out to be me. She was my ideal woman and she had to seduce me so that, at the moment of my orgasm -- that 'little death -- the door opened for her to leave. The price of her release was to entrap me.

All I had to do now was find, somewhere on the internet, a woman for whom I was the ideal.