"They couldn't just get a private investigator?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "It wasn't always so easy. The husbands, maybe they weren't cheating then, but they were still ignoring and mistreating their wives. Sometimes it was just that the husbands weren't traveling. But the wives knew the love was gone. And they wanted out of the marriage. They came to me."
I'm silent. Brittney continues.
"I'm the CEO of a company called Man Chasers, LLC, Ethan," she confides. "And for the longest time I thought I didn't need a man in my life at all. That they were nothing but a waste of time."
I don't know what to fucking say.
"But then I kinda met you," she finishes off with.
She's looking at me. Waiting for me to fucking say something.
I move my eyes back to her. She's so fucking cute as a button.
"I've never spent as much time with a single woman as I have with you," I tell her. It's the fucking truth. "I've never spent so much time fucking thinking about a woman as I do when you're not around, Brit," I say.
She gasps as I pull her close to me.
"And I could care less that you've been in fucking porn as long as you're here with me right fucking now, babe," I continue forcefully. "I could care less that you made a job to find out cheating scumbags and have them pay for being assholes."
Brittney starts to smile and I pull her over to me all the way. She comes willingly.
"No one has fucking affected me. Ever. Like you," I tell her. I'm telling her the truth. "When you first walked in that door, I fucking wanted to bang the shit out of you. I wanted to fucking smack your ass till you cried out and suck on your tits as I fucked you. I wanted to cum all over that fucking gorgeous body you got, babe," I say to her, as serious as I've ever been in my life.
"That's so romantic, Ethan," she says with a teasing grin, as she rests her body on my chest. I can feel her. Every inch of her. Pressed against me. It's fucking heaven. "You don't want me to do that anymore?"
Fuck. This is where you're going to think I'm fucking crazy. Especially if you saw what I saw on the tablet. But you didn't. So you're going to have to trust me that I know what's best.
I reach over to the cigar box on the coffee table. I open it and pull out the only existing prototype of Illict Escape.
Brittney's eyes go wide.
"Is that … " she trails off.
"Yeah," I tell her hoarsely. "It's the only copy to date that we've made of Illicit Escape. And yes, I still want to fuck your brains out. But I trust you, babe. And I want you to experience what this is going to be like."
Brittney's eyes go wide and I can see that they're going to tear up.
She's fucking overwhelmed. The super secret project. Guarded so fucking closely.
And I'm about to let her in.
I take the glasses and put them on her. They're spare and very minimal-single rimmed and unobtrusive.
I pull over my tablet. It'll let me see what she sees.
"Let's go for a ride, baby," I tell her.
Then I power it on.
148
Brittney
"Let's do this," I whisper, anxiety suddenly kicking in. I have no idea what Ethan's device really does, but I'm more than eager to find out.
"Are you sure, babe? I'll be watching everything and I know this is … personal." I look into his eyes, my heart drumming a song of desire and hesitancy, and I just nod. It's an automatic movement, but one that I know is the right one. I can't believe this is happening but … I think I'm falling for him. I want him to see what's inside of my head, and I want him to see the way all my deepest desires revolve around him and only him. The moment he placed the glasses on me, I knew I wanted to do this. I just didn't know how much.
"I want to do it … I want you to see," I whisper, my heart pounding at a frantic pace. What the hell am I doing? I have no idea what's going to happen once this thing gets going. Once again, the winds of hesitancy run wild inside my head; am I really this sure that I want to share what I'm about to experience with him? When the answer comes, it couldn't be any clearer: of course I do.
There's a bright flash of light coming from the rim of the glasses, and it starts to pulse at a steady rhythm. It spreads to the lenses, and I have to close my eyes; still, the red flashes of light are so strong that they manage to get past my shut eyelids. Slowly, the flashes starts to dim, the light pulsing at a more gently rhythm, and I open my eyes.
It's weird, but I don't see a thing. There's just darkness, as if I've gone blind. I have no idea how this Illicit Escape thing works, but it has taken complete control of my sight. I can still feel the glasses sitting on the bridge of my nose, but I can't see them anymore. Then, like a fog that starts to clear, I see a flicker in the distance, an oasis right in the middle of the darkness.
Even though I'm sitting, I feel myself moving as I walk toward the light in the distance. It seems that the Illicit Escape not only affects what you can see, but all of your other senses as well. Oh, this is going to be good … Really good.
As I close in on the object, I realize it's a mirror. There's no illumination in this empty and dark virtual place I'm in, so it seems the flat surface of the mirror isn't reflecting any light; instead, it's from there that the light comes. From the other side of the mirror, my reflection looks straight into my eyes.
My hair is tied up in a ponytail, and I'm wearing nothing aside from a pair of high-heels, black stockings, and a matching pair of black lace panties and bra. My lips are painted with a deep red, the color of wine, and I can't help but lift one finger and brush it over my mouth. It's a strange feeling. I feel my real body frozen in place, but my body in this dream world reacts, and I touch my lips with one fingertip. And I can actually feel it.
This is insane; this thing has to be worth millions and millions of dollars. No, scratch that … We're talking billions here. This is so far beyond what anyone has managed to pull off. Once he launches Illicit Pleasures, Ethan will become the undisputed King of Porn … And I bet that it won't take long for his VR technology to make him as rich as God once he ventures outside of the sex industry. No wonder Simon is dying to get his hands on this prototype. Forget about porn, this is a game changer.
My thought process doesn't take long to derail. I see someone moving in the mirror, drawing close, and I turn on my heels to face him. Ethan is standing right behind me, wearing what looks like a million dollar suit; from the crisp white shirt to the polished black shoes, everything on him seems arranged to perfection.
"Hello, Brittney," he says, gently smiling, and he sounds just like the real Ethan.
"Hello," I hear myself responding, even though my real lips aren't moving. The longer I spend with the glasses, the more they seem to be working their magic on me. There's already a noticeable change taking place; it all looked so life like, but now … It just seems real.
"Ready for the ride of your life?" The Ethan in front of me tells me, undoing his tie at the same time. "I'm here to do … whatever you want."
"Whatever I want," I repeat after him, the words taking on an almost mystical sound. His smile turns into a grin, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt then, his fingers moving with maddening patience. As his chiseled pectorals and abs come into view, my pussy starts to grow wet. Oh, when all this is over, I'm getting one of these glasses.
Once Ethan takes off his shirt, he unbuckles his belt and pulls it out. Without taking his eyes off of me, he joins the two ends of the belt in his hand, and then snaps it tight.
"Close your eyes," he commands me, and I feel that steady pulse of light against my eyelids again. Once it subsides, I open my eyes again and my surroundings have changed; we're in an enormous room now, and there's a bed right in the middle of it. The floor is all carpeted in red, and so are the walls; there are no windows or doors in this place, and the illumination seems to come from the top and bottom corners of the room. Ethan remains in front of me, though, his chest bare and the belt in his hand.
Without saying a word, I know what he wants me to do. I saunter toward the bed, and bending over, I jut my ass back as I place my hands on top of the mattress. Somehow, the machine is reading my innermost desires, pulling them out from their unconscious slumber and turning them into something tangible.
"Use me, Ethan," I find myself saying, my whole body tensing up as I prepare for the impact of the belt. To my surprise, it doesn't come; instead, he simply brushes the leather belt against my ass cheeks, gently moving it up and down. He's teasing me; it seems that the machine is devious enough to not only know what you want … but also what you need.