Syren’s Song

Chapter 6: Chapter 06: Sausage and Eggs


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CARTER

As daylight glowed beyond his eyelids, Carter rolled onto his back in his bed, yawned, and stretched. He was a bit chilly, which was unusual, and a half-awake patdown of his covers reminded him he didn’t have a comforter. And then, he remembered why.

His drowsiness vanished as adrenaline kicked in. Shit! He’d left that redheaded fugitive passed out on his couch last night, and somehow, this morning, he’d forgotten to set his alarm. Why hadn’t she woken him? Had she taken his keys and stolen his car?

She could do that easily, but given how terrified she’d looked last night, he wouldn’t be all that angry if she had. At least it would get her ahead of whoever was after her. He wouldn’t have to figure out how to help her if she’d already fled in his stolen car.

As the faint sound of sizzling invaded his bedroom, it was joined by the smell of freshly cooked sausage. Someone was cooking in his kitchen? Who? Allison? He couldn’t imagine it being anyone else, and that, at least, assured him she hadn’t fled as he slept. He was surprised by how grateful that made him feel. As difficult as this might be, he didn’t want her to go.

Also. That dream. Fuck. That had been one amazing dream. Carter didn’t have to look down to confirm he’d come awake stiff as a board, but that, at least, was not unusual. The inconvenience of morning wood had been a problem since he hit puberty, and when living alone, it was more of a pain in the ass than anything. Especially when he needed to pee.

He slipped quietly out of bed and considered getting dressed and checking on Allison, but discarded that idea immediately. He needed to take a piss first, and that would require not taking a fresh look at the eager redhead he’d dreamed about face fucking last night. She’d called him sir. He definitely couldn’t think about that if he wanted to drain his bladder.

It took a few minutes in the bathroom and some deep breathing exercises to finally relax enough to relieve himself, but afterward, Carter felt like he could investigate his own kitchen. The smell of eggs had joined the sausage, which told him Allison had correctly taken stock of the few cookable elements in his refrigerator and made due. Good for her.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxers out of his drawers and then paused. Given he had a guest, he wanted to make himself extra presentable this morning. He went back to the suitcase he’d lived out of since he arrived and sorted through it for the tightest black shirt he owned.

It was essentially a muscle shirt, and while the tight fit sometimes felt like it was cutting off the circulation from his biceps, more than one girl had said it made his torso and abs look droolworthy. He’d kept working out in his apartment out of habit, and it would be nice to show off. He also went for his straight leg jeans instead of the boot cut he normally wore, which left him confident Allison wouldn’t be disappointed if she checked him out from behind.

He examined himself in the bathroom mirror and then ran some water, slicking down his short, dark hair. He combed his fingers through it until most of the bedhead was gone and then, finally, swished some mouthwash. Morning breath was never appealing.

He had his normal stubble, of course, but it worked. He was now confident he looked pretty good… if Allison was interested. Now prepared, he exited his bedroom. He wasn’t sure what to expect. The sizzling had stopped but the smells remained.

He walked into his living room and looked to the small kitchen which stood across the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Standing with her back to him in front of his small range, Allison glanced over her shoulder at him and beamed. “Good morning.”

Carter blinked. She still wore the green uniform shirt that every Sandwich Artist at Subway wore every day, but nothing else that he could see. The shirt coursed down her hourglass frame and hung just past her ass, leaving her nicely toned legs bare.

“Hey,” Carter managed. “Morning.”

“I’ve made you scrambled eggs and sausage. I assume you’re hungry?”

“Always,” Carter agreed, then panicked just a little.

The sight of her dressed like this had already stiffened his cock again inside his suddenly too tight jeans. He quickly sat on the stool to put the counter between them and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Though... would she care?

She was standing in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt. She didn’t seem at all inclined to put on pants and... was she even wearing any panties? He hoped she was.

If nothing else, he didn’t want her cooking without proper protection. One pop of cooking oil could leave some nasty burns.

She expertly tipped the pan to slide a number of scrambled eggs out and onto a plate that already contained three sausage links. Nothing spilled. She placed the pan back on the range and turned with the plate in hand, then placed it on the counter in front of him.

“I cooked the eggs in the same pan as the sausage,” she informed him. “I believe that makes them taste better.”

“You’re right about that,” Carter agreed.

Before he could ask, she dropped a napkin beside his plate and a fork atop it. She then padded to the refrigerator on bare feet and opened it before glancing his way. “Milk or OJ?”

“Uh... OJ.”

She pulled out the half-empty box of OJ and poured him a glass with the same courteous efficiency she’d shown with everything else. They were such simple actions, but something about the elegant way she did them left him transfixed. She slid the half-filled glass across the counter and then tilted her head quizzically.

“Can I get you something else?”

“No, that’s fine.” Carter glanced down at his unexpected breakfast then up at her, suddenly a bit overwhelmed. “This is great.”

“I am glad it pleases you.”

Some of her speech patterns were so odd. Perhaps English wasn’t her first language? She didn’t have a noticeable accent, but the way she sometimes put together words was just... different. Like she’d learned how to talk from reading old books.

Allison grabbed one of the two wooden stools from beside the counter, settled it in the kitchen, and sat across from him. “Please, eat,” she said patiently. “After you’ve had a good meal, we’ll talk about last night and I’ll answer all your questions.”

So he was eating breakfast alone? “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I ate earlier,” she assured him. “Now it’s your turn.”

Earlier? When? A glance at the wall clock told him it was just past nine AM, so she must have been up for a while. Also, why hadn’t she just split this breakfast with him? Did she not like sausage and eggs? If so, her cooking this for him was even more generous.

Still, he was definitely hungry, and eating would provide a cover for him to gather his thoughts and decide how he really felt about her still being in his apartment this morning. He loved that she was still here... there was no doubt about that... but the problems from last night had not gone away. That FBI agent. Whoever Allison was running from.

Even so, Carter surprised himself by how quickly he devoured breakfast. It was far better than when he cooked. Allison evidently had a talent for cooking, and he’d wolfed everything down before he could decide what to say next. The redheaded woman across from him watched him with the same pale green eyes from his dream, a hint of a smile on her face.

“What?” he asked finally. “Did I eat too fast?”

“I simply enjoy looking at you. I like that shirt. It highlights your attractive muscles.”

Carter smiled back. “Well, that’s great. You’re hot as hell too.”

“It pleases me that you see me that way.” She sighed. “Still, we need to talk about last night. And then, we need to talk about what we do from here.”

“Right, that whole thing,” he agreed solemnly. “Is the FBI really after you?”

“That man was not with the FBI,” she informed him calmly. “Also, while we will talk about that as well, we should first discuss the sex. To start, I’d like to apologize.”

Carter felt abruptly guilty about his extremely dirty dream. “What sex?” He’d tucked her in on the couch and gone to sleep in his bedroom.

“Yesterday night, as I reclined naked on your couch and pleasured myself, you eagerly sent your cum down my throat. While I enjoyed your fucking immensely, I also deceived and took advantage of you. For that, I must apologize.”

Carter knew his eyes were now unreasonably wide. “We did what now?”

“You do remember what we did last night, don’t you?” She smiled coyly. “Sir?”

He took a moment to make sure this was actually awake. “I thought that was a dream.”

“That is also my doing,” Allison said regretfully. “I was exhausted from over a week without restoring my physical and mental faculties, and the only way I could restore them was if I convinced you to donate your... cum. Is that word acceptable?”

While he remained shocked, Carter couldn’t help but chuckle at the bizarre question. “Depends on if we’re in church.”

“My last partner preferred I use crude language,” Allison explained. “I could simply refer to it as semen if you like, or spooge, jizz, seed, man juic—“

“Okay, stop.” Carter raised one hand. “Cum is fine, and... God, did I just say that?”

“We can also call it vigor,” Allison said. “If that makes this conversation any less awkward for you, we can use that word.”

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“That’s a bit weird for me,” Carter admitted. “So yeah, let’s stick with cum.”

“It does stick to most things,” Allison agreed, deadpan.

Carter guffawed and shook his head. “You’re fucking with me. You’ve got to be fucking with me. This is... did we really get together last night?”

“You energetically fucked my throat while I eagerly allowed it.”

“And... you liked that?”

“I enjoy all flavors of sex, and whenever a human male ejaculates inside or upon me, I immediately experience a brief but pleasurable orgasm. These build over time.”

“Holy shit,” Carter managed.

“However, my entire body is hyper sensitive at the moment, with my genitals most of all. Having you fuck me in the pussy or ass would have been overwhelming, so taking you down my throat was actually less intense.” She tilted her head. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

He stared in disbelief. “It was fucking incredible.”

She smiled as if proud of herself. “We can do that again this morning if you like, but first, I need to explain myself and ensure you aren’t angry about last night. I wish to apologize. After that, we’ll see what’s next.”

Carter breathed. “All right, let’s start there. What, exactly, are you apologizing for?”

“You are obviously a man with a great deal of concern for consent. You would not have sex with any woman you could not be sure was awake, alert, and willing. You made that clear to me last night, when I was exhausted, yet I desperately needed your cum.”

“My Dad raised me right.” Carter shrugged. “And Mom too, though that was one hell of an awkward conversation.” He desperately tried to make sense of this. “Did you drug me?”

“In a sense,” Allison agreed. “My method was mental rather than physical, but you’ve offered a good approximation. Reconfiguring myself after I fled into the back of your restaurant drained most of my remaining strength, and pretending to be alert to fool my hunter drained much more. By the time we were actually alone in your apartment, I was rather weak.”

“Hold a minute,” Carter’s mind skipped a frame. “You said you... reconfigured?”

“Yes. I’ll talk about that at length with you after this, but first, will you allow me to finish my explanation and apology?”

“Sure,” Carter agreed. Despite the fact that a hundred questions were all struggling to burst from his lips, he felt like a real dick for interrupting her.

“I am capable of mental communication... what you call telepathy... and moving small objects with my mind. What you would call telekinesis. I can also mentally influence people.”

“Shut the front door,” Carter whispered.

Allison frowned and glanced past him. “Has it come ajar?”

He chuckled desperately. “No, it’s just... you know what? I’ll shut up now. And listen.”

Was this woman crazy? This certainly sounded crazy, so maybe Allison had escaped from a mental hospital. Last night on the couch assured him she was also his kind of crazy, though... was it safe to let her go around thinking she could move things with her mind? What if she tried to stop a car and got run over?

Allison smiled patiently. “I understand how difficult this is to believe. To continue, my talents allow me to perform limited mental manipulation on a subject with whom I have had physical contact. You and I had a great deal of physical contact on the way here, which allowed me to reach into your mind and convince you what was happening was a dream.”

Carter remembered the bright day. “So when I woke up with my... uh...”

“You were quite rigid.” Allison’s naughty grin from last night returned. “And you were awake the entire time, though I made you believe you were in a dream.”

“Right,” Carter said. “And then I heard you call to me, and I came into the living room to find you...” He frowned. “But the sun was rising, wasn’t it? And there was more furniture.”

“I altered your visual perceptions in the small ways I could to further sell the idea that you were in a dream. I feared you would not agree to fuck me otherwise.”

“Because I didn’t think you could consent,” Carter said. “But you did?”

“Everything else occurred as you remember it,” Allison assured him. “My enthusiastic consent, your enthusiastic fucking, and even the brief cuddling afterward.”

“Woah,” Carter said.

“The cuddling was very nice,” Allison added. “Next time, I hope we can enjoy a bit more of that, but I needed to focus on absorbing your cum. That required rest.”

“Absorbing... right.” Carter frowned and set whatever that meant aside for a moment. “So, you’re saying you made me think I was dreaming.”

“I did.”

“But I really liked that?”

We liked it,” Allison corrected. “That doesn’t change the fact that I deceived you. I considered begging you to fuck me without altering your perceptions, but I feared you would not agree. I must have seemed quite drunk. Was I slurring my words last night?”

“No, you were mostly coherent,” Carter said. “But you did seem drunk. Or high.”

“In other words, visibly not in my right mind. Which would have deterred you from fucking me even if I asked. And as I’ve explained, I needed your cum to recover my strength.”

“Sure,” Carter agreed... reluctantly. “So, the fact that everything you’re telling me is nuts aside, you’re apologizing for giving me the best blowjob of my life?”

Allison’s lips quirked again. “I consider that high praise. But, yes. I am apologizing for deceiving you, even if we both enjoyed the deception. Can you forgive me for that?”

“I mean... sure,” Carter said. “Even if I don’t believe all that, I believe you.”

“How so?”

Carter paused to ensure he said this in a way that would make sense to them both. “You didn’t intend to hurt anyone, and you certainly didn’t hurt me. I wanted last night as badly as you did, and in that... whatever I thought it was, I was as ready as you were.”

“I am relieved to hear that,” Allison agreed.

“And you’ve laid out what happened out in a way I can understand. Even if I was high or something, no one got taken advantage of. I wanted you even after—”

“I changed,” Allison said. “You couldn’t help but notice my change in the restaurant.”

“Right,” Carter agreed. “When you came into the shop, you had... uh...”

“Massive tits,” Allison reminded him with a smirk. “Also, I was a good deal shorter.”

“You sure were,” Carter agreed despite his strong desire to insist she’d just worn a disguise. “So you can just... change your breast size? Whenever you want?”

“I can redistribute a fixed amount of overall mass to configure myself for any situation. I can also do that with any part of my body, not just my breasts.”

“Okay,” Carter said. “I might need a minute.”

Allison smiled like she’d smiled after he kissed her last night. “Take as much time as you like. And finish your orange juice.”

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