This is the second Faunus Fantasies story. No need to read the first one, although if you're curious it does tell the tale of how Mike got involved with them. Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate it.
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After six months working as a high-tech living sex toy for Faunus Fantasies LLC, I was finally able to afford to move out of my basement apartment, buy a condo, and go shopping for decent furniture, starting with a sofa. My new place needed an upgrade from the crummy thrift store furniture I brought with me. I wanted a decent living space like I had before I got laid off from my old job, my wife divorced me, and I worked in minimum wage hell for a couple of years. After all that torture, I signed on with Faunus and started making good money again. That's the short version.
* * *
Eva, rail-thin saleswoman at Granville Furniture, led me through the maze of her store. At twice my age, wearing twice the dosage of perfume I could stand, she talked a mile a minute. She filled me in on her kids' lives, her coworkers' health problems, and just generally bored me to tears. This was my fourth store of the day and I was out of patience.
She stopped in front of the ugliest new sofa I'd ever seen. For sure, my ex-in-laws had worse stuff from the seventies, but damn that was one ugly mofo. Its swirls of pea green, pale purple, and dark orange made me dizzy.
"Now, Mike," she said, "Try to ignore the fabric on this wonderful piece. We have a sale going on, so you can get it for a lot less than regular price. Try to imagine it in gray tweed. You did say you wanted gray, right? I think I can find a picture of it in gray."
"I need to see some samples," I said.
"Of course," she said. "Follow me."
As she turned to lead me to Fabric Hell in the back of the store, my phone buzzed. It was Chad from Faunus.
"Sorry, Eva. Gotta take this," I said. "Work, you know?"
"No rest for the wicked," she said. "Just drop by my desk. I'm in the sales area in the back. Just look for the PEZ dispenser collection."
"See you in a minute," I said as a thumbed the slider on my phone.
"Yo, Chad. What's up?" I said. Chad was a work friend, easy to talk to. We'd had some great times. I sometimes still shiver with remembered pleasure, hearing echoes of that one client's raucous screams. Mike's black bald head was clamped between her legs, bringing her to a fifth orgasm as my cock slid between her big, round tits. Good times.
"Hey Mike," Chad said. "Got a good one for you. Chick wants a threesome. Figured you'd be up for it."
"Sure, but why are you calling instead of Eddie or Claire?" I asked.
Eddie owned Faunus Fantasies and usually handed out assignments based on the client's desires and the employee's skills. He had a knack for putting the right agents together with the right customers. Claire was Eddie's second in command -- technically Chief Operating Officer of Faunus Fantasies, LLC.
Occasionally, Claire would take part in assignments that appealed to her. You could never tell what she'd would want in on but if she was part of a scene, you knew you were in for a great ride. Plus, she had a terrific body and was great fun to work with.
"Eddie's in court again, arguing about alimony with one of his ex-wives," Chad said. "Dude's worth so much money now, I don't know why he bothers except for just the principle of the thing. Pay 'em and make 'em go away is what I'd do, bro. Time is money, you know?"
"Yeah, but it makes sense, knowing Eddie," I said. "He's such a tightwad. But why you instead of Claire? Usually she's the one who calls when Eddie's busy."
"We got this mousy bookworm who wants a threesome," Chad said with a chuckle. "Claire is
all about
this one. When she saw the chick's picture, bio, and what she wants in bed, she grabbed the paperwork right out of my hands and asked me to call and see if you were in. She's picking out clothes now. Client wants a guy and a girl. She said you'd be perfect for this."
I had to laugh. "What's got Claire so lit up?"
"I don't know, man," Chad said. "Claire's a mystery. I can never guess what's going to get her going. Maybe the overeducated bookworm angle? I seriously don't know."
The thought of doing a job with Claire brought my dick to attention. Plus, I was curious what got her so turned her on about this.
"Anyway, it's this Friday night and all day Saturday," Chad said. "Any problems with your schedule?"
"Oh, hell no," I said. "I'll be there."
Chad laughed.
"I thought so. Not a question about the client, but it's Claire. You got a thing for her."
"Don't know what you're talking about," I said, grinning at the prospect of working with Claire again.
"Dude," Chad said. "I've seen y'all together. Some kind of electricity there. Can't put my finger on it."
"You're reading too much into it," I said. "I just respect her hard work. And the way she manages Eddie's flubs all the time can't be easy."
"More to it than that, my man," Chad said. "Just be careful with that one. You know Eddie hears everything."
"Gotcha. Guess I'll need to drop by the office to get specifics."
"Exactamundo," Chad said. "The sooner the better."
"Okay, thanks man. Right now, I'm buying furniture. I should be there in an hour or so."
"Great! Your old stuff was shit. No offense, but seriously, you really needed an upgrade."
"I'll have you over when my new place is presentable."
"Sounds good. Catch you later."
I bought the damn sofa, hoping it would look good in gray.
* * *
In the Faunus conference room, Claire, Chad, and I went over the client's documentation. Her name was Melanie Stafford. Chad had on his usual black turtleneck and denim camouflage jacket. Claire wore a dark green boat-neck sweater that clung to her, emphasizing the tantalizing curves of her breasts. Emerald earrings, a thick gold bracelet, and a matching snake link necklace completed the look. Professional but sexy. I couldn't see the lower half of her outfit and really wanted a look at those long, curvy legs.
Studying the client's photos, I could see the appeal. Melanie Stafford was a brunette with a nice heart-shaped face, brown eyes, and long, curly, shoulder-length hair. At five foot five, she was a few inches shorter than Claire and had a lean but curvy body οΏ½ at least from what you could see in the first full-length picture she sent, which showed her in a red hoodie, gray sweatpants, and black sneakers. The next photo, in work dress, was more helpful. She was very attractive in a pair of navy Capri pants and a cream-colored top. When I read her bio and the precise way she described her fantasies, I totally got why Claire would want to be in on this. A smart woman like this would be just her style.
Melanie owned an independent bookstore and had gotten a Master's in Medieval Studies several years ago. On the downside, she was a trust fund kid, used to money and lots of it. Both in my old job at the bank and at Faunus, my experience with these folks was that they usually went one of two ways: either they're spoiled, entitled brats or they're wonderful people, aware of the responsibility their privilege carries and kind to those less fortunate. We would soon see which category Ms. Stafford fell into.
I glanced up at Claire and to my surprise found myself locking eyes with her. She raised her eyebrows and I grinned. She blushed and looked down at the paperwork.
Did Claire
really just blush
? I thought.
"All you have to do is show up at her store and introduce yourselves," Chad said. "The client wants some good, hard dick and a threesome with a chick. You've seen her list of dos and don'ts. She's got a buttload of hard limits, pun intended. No anal, period. Not even touching her asshole a little bit. She also does not want for you two to do anal, even if she's not involved.
Claire pouted.
"But Mike's so good at it!" she said.
"So I've seen. Chicks who are into it really dig his skills but that leaves you plenty to work with. Look at how long this chick's wish list is. You're going to have trouble jamming it all into just a night and a day. Take a company car. Given all the stuff this client is scared to do, I would suggest using the main house and leave the dungeon out of it. It doesn't seem like she would enjoy it."
"You're right," I said, "The dungeon would creep her out. Also with her degree in Medieval Studies, if we took her down there, she'd spend all our time picking at the historical inaccuracies of the equipment. 'This is completely the wrong kind of wood for a Saint Andrew's Cross', she'd say 'They never used oak, and they certainly wouldn't slap a walnut stain on it'".
"Bingo," Chad said. "I was thinking the same thing."
