Chapter 22: Kitt

Friday, April 21, 2023

I woke up with Janiqua draped over me. Dried cum coated her chocolate ass, thighs, and back. She peered at me through slitted eyes because she wasn’t fully roused yet. But a smile cracked on her face nonetheless.

“Mmmm ... baby. That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had. You get better and better.”

I smirked proudly. “That was amazing.”

“I would ask you to come over to my place tonight, but I promised I wouldn’t attach strings,” she said wistfully. “But at least tell me this won’t be the last time.”

“I promise.” I leaned in and kissed her lips.

We showered again; I let her go first since she had to work in a few hours, and I didn’t. While she cleaned up, I made us breakfast of toast and eggs. Janiqua liked reading the news while eating, so we discussed current events. She knew way more than I did. I was often embarrassed about how uninformed I must sometimes seem to her. I had made a decision to spend more time following the news but hadn’t followed through on it.

Following breakfast, we discussed some dates over the following weeks when our schedules lined up to burn a few more calories in bed. Working in the ICU meant our hours could be all over the place. We would be on the same schedule some weeks and hook up two or three nights, and other weeks, we only saw each other in passing as one person’s shift ended and another person’s began.

We kissed again before she left. It was a long, lingering kiss that left me wanting more. I did not doubt that if I asked her to call in sick, she would have stayed and spent the day in bed with me. However, I didn’t want to set that kind of precedent, so I let her go.

I showered after she left. Still somewhat obsessed with my dick, I grew it to about a foot long and jerked off. It wasn’t quite as good as the orgasms I had with Janiqua, London, or the other women in my life, but it got the job done. After I got out, I texted Janiqua thanks for the fantastic night. She responded with a yellow heart.

Not having a lot of errands to run that day, I went to my gym and worked out. I couldn’t help myself. I worked out with no shirt and mid-thigh shorts, showing off my superhero-esque form.

Now that I could shrink my junk down to micro-penis sizes, I didn’t have to worry about anything hanging out while I exercised. I definitely got more attention, being taller and having a more powerful physique. One woman on a treadmill watched my reflection for five minutes straight. Every time I caught her gaze, I smiled. And each time, she looked away.

She looked like one of those women you see in the advertisements for gyms: a fit, tanned body clad in full-length purple leggings, a great rack covered in a yellow sports bra, and long brown hair pulled back into a stylish ponytail. Eventually, she left the treadmill area, and I didn’t see her for several minutes.

When I finished my cardio, I went to the mats to do squats and planks. My muscles burned, especially my glutes. I rolled to the mat, breathing hard. Just then, the same girl from before walked right past me. She glanced my way again and quickly looked away. She was even prettier up close. She had luscious chestnut hair, smooth olive-colored skin, green eyes, perfect eyebrows, full circular lips, generous breasts, and a smoking hot ass practically made for twerking.

I made a spur-of-the-moment decision as she passed. “Hi.”

She paused and looked me over with the same disdain a car shopper might have inspecting a rusted junker. “Hey.”

“I’ve never seen you here before. New?”

“I’m not from here. I’m from Denver.”

“Denver?” I repeated. “What are you doing here?”

“I had a meeting and some work. I needed to hit the gym before I got back up there, and my membership in Denver lets me go to any of their locations.”

“Aw.” I gave a slight frown. “That means I won’t see you here again?”

She shrugged. “Sorry.” She turned to walk away, then stopped a second time. “What about you? Do you live here?”

“Yeah ... But now I’m thinking of moving to Denver.” I put my hand out. “Kitt. Walker.”

“Kitt Walker? Is that a real name? That’s like a movie star’s name.” She took my hand. An electric thrill, like a shock but not painful, ran through my fingers, hand, and arm until my brain buzzed pleasurably. She blinked several times before speaking again. Had she felt it, too?

“Kit Walker was the name of The Phantom. It’s an old Billy Zane movie. My dad loves that movie. He named me after him. But with two Ts.”

“Delilah Eisande. Biblical name.”

“Are you done exercising? Am I keeping you from anything right now?”

“Why? Do you need me to spot you while you lift weights? Hm?”

I laughed and wiped my face. “No. Just wasn’t sure if you were on your way out the door.”

“I have a few minutes. Where do you work?”

“The local hospital. ICU.”

Delilah nodded, and I detected a trace of disappointment on her face. “A medical doctor. I see.”

“Nurse. What about you?”

“I’m into video production.”

“Do you get a lot of work in Denver? Seems like New York or L.A. would be more ideal for that line of work.”

“Not feature films. The type of stuff I do can be local. I was down here meeting someone who might be in a future shoot.”

“How did the meeting go?”

Delilah shrugged. “Not what I was looking for.”

“Oh...” I was dying to ask what she was looking for, but I was getting a vibe that she didn’t want to talk much more about it. “Well, if you were local, I would ask you out for a cup of coffee, but I’m not sure I’m worth a two-hour drive.”

“Maybe you are.” She raised an eyebrow and almost smiled. “Or we could skip the drive and just do it now. But once you get to know me, you probably won’t be interested in me.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement, but I did know I was interested in her. “There’s a Starbucks on the other side of the gym. Can I buy you a cup?”

A few minutes later, I sat across from her in my sweaty clothes, cup of coffee in hand, wondering what to discuss. The cafe was small and empty except for us. It was past 11 a.m., well beyond coffee hour for most people at the gym. I decided to break the ice.

“Did you grow up here?” Delilah asked before I could start.

“Yeah, middle school, high school, and nursing school. I moved here when I was ten from California. My parents have moved back, but I like it.”

“California’s nice though. I work with a girl from Cali.”

“Sure. It’s nice to visit, but no one wants to live there. What about you?”

“I’ve only been in Colorado for a few months. Launching my business.”

“How’s it going so far?”

Delilah shrugged. “It’s a tough business to break into. I need more content to drive people to it.”

“So are we talking local ads or feature productions or what?”

“Sure you want to know?”

I had no idea why I wouldn’t want to know. “Yeah. Tell me.”

“I make amateur porn.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t say I was surprised. Delilah had a beautiful face and an incredible body. “I could see that. You’re gorgeous.”

Delilah hid her grin by putting her cup of coffee to her lips, but it didn’t look like she drank any. “Hm ... Most guys drop a twenty on the table and walk out the door when I say that. Especially when they find out I’m the one on screen.”

“I like porn. Would I recognize you from anything?”

“Are you on FFE?”

I had to think for a moment what that stood for. Then I remembered. For Fans Eyes. An amateur site where people could subscribe to specific content providers and performers. FFE was known for ruthlessly defending the IP of its users, making content hard to pirate and impossible to find anywhere except the Dark Web. I had never visited that site.

“No. I haven’t used it.”

“Then you’ve never seen me.”

“Struggling to get your viewer count up?”

Delilah sighed and set down her cup. “Hm. It’s tricky. I don’t show my full face, which puts me at a disadvantage. The most popular people show their faces. And I’m having trouble finding male talent who will stick around. Many viewers on FFE either like a lot of variety or prefer consistency because it feels like they are watching a couple. Variety helps the content feel new, but consistency makes them feel safe. Unfortunately, every guy I’ve found is either an asshole I can’t stand working with, or they get camera shy and can’t do it on film, or after one or two shoots, they chicken out and don’t come back. Most of my stuff has been solo. You know? Masturbation. And that mostly has to be used as filler to bridge between better stuff. That is about the gist of it.”

“Is Denver the best place to find partners?”

“I came here to make unique outdoor content or stuff with amazing backdrops. There’s not a lot of great outdoor content on FFE. I think I have an opportunity to fill a niche.”

“So what happened today?”

“I came down here to see a guy who answered an ad. He was, hm, not as advertised.”

I was too curious to let this pass. “Can I ask who it was?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Not like either of us signed an NDA or anything before meeting.”

“So who was it?”

“His name was Devon Allen.”

I almost spit out my coffee. Devon Allen had been a year behind me in school and thought he was hot shit. All-state linebacker in football and starting guard in basketball. He never stopped bragging about the girls he was banging and treated everyone like shit if they didn’t play sports.

“You know him,” Delilah said.

I nodded, wiping the coffee off my face. “Oh yeah.”

“He does not have as big a dick as he thinks. He contacted me with body shots and some nudes. It turned out the nudes were faked, hm, doctored a little bit. When I confronted him, he said he was similar in size and had a great body. And girls would be fine with his dick because he’s never gotten a complaint. I told him I’d consider it. But I’m not considering it.”

“Devon Allen,” I mused. “How big was he?”

“Average.”

I nodded calmly, but intense relief flooded me that I was no longer average. I literally had the most incredible cock in the world. “Now you’re back on the hunt?”

Delilah nodded but gave me a quizzical look. “I am trying to tell if you are interested, but I can’t read you. I mean, I was watching you while you were exercising. You have a great body. A lovely face. But to be frank, nothing I saw indicated you were, hm, packing in the raw meat department.”

I took a long sip of coffee and scanned the area around us. “Exactly how many ounces of steak are you looking for?”

Delilah seemed to appreciate my play on her metaphor because her lips twisted into a smile. It was the first time I’d seen her smile, and it changed her entire face. “Seven ounces minimum. Although I’ve yet to eat a steak too big for my appetite.”

I nearly choked on my coffee for the second time and thought better of drinking any more. Delilah’s little smirk grew into a playful grin when I pushed my coffee away.

“Does a woman who likes a big cock scare you? Hm, Kitt Walker?” She leaned forward until our faces were only three inches apart. I could smell her, and despite being sweaty and a little salty in some places, she had a tantalizingly spicy, flowery scent like hypericums. “Because I don’t have time for men who are intimidated by women who like sex.”

I maintained eye contact with her and smiled back. “That doesn’t scare me at all. In fact, I’ve found that two people who openly like sex end up having bomb-ass sex.”

She dropped her voice even lower, and the husky, sultry sounds made my tiny cock stir in my shorts. “And the idea of people watching us have sex ... does what to you?”

“Turns me on to no end.”

She pulled back, still staring into my eyes. “Hm,” was all she said. We locked eyes briefly before she finally added, “Maybe. I’d like to see things for myself. And I do have a few rules.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t date my partners. As soon as I get a whiff of you having feelings for me or becoming possessive of me fucking other partners on camera, we’re done. This relationship is strictly professional. No hanging out after hours. Nothing. You come in, we fuck or whatever it is we’re doing that day, and we’re done. I call the shots. Do you have a problem with me being in charge?”

“I do, actually.” I swallowed hard but maintained my cool. “I have no issue with you being on top or whatever a scene calls for, but I don’t like the idea of you making all the creative decisions. If we’re partnering professionally, I should have some skin in the game.”

Delilah raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“I want to be fifty-fifty with this on you. Half the expenses, half the profits.”

Delilah laughed bitterly. “Right now, all there is to share is expenses.”

“I’m fine with that. I have decent savings to draw upon. I’ll even reimburse you for half of your base expenses so far if you decide we work well together and want to be partners. Business partners,” I added as soon as her eyebrow went up. “I want to build a brand name for myself, and to do that, I need this.”

“I can agree if I decide you’re worth putting on camera. I still need to inspect the meat.”

“FDA approval for my foot-long dog?” I asked as I looked around, unsure where we could go that would be private enough to show her my cock.

“Foot long?” Delilah repeated, rolling her eyes. “Not here. You said you live nearby. We can go to your place if you’re comfortable with that. But first, I need to send a picture of us to my camera girl and the address of where we are going—for my protection.”

I had no issues with that, so I let her take a quick selfie of us and another photo of my driver’s license. After changing in the locker rooms, we drove separate cars to my apartment. Delilah had donned a thin, flowery silk blouse and tight jeans with stylish holes ripped into the thighs. No matter how many times Jade had tried to persuade me that jeans holes were in fashion, I couldn’t wrap my brain around buying torn clothes. Delilah parked in one of the guest spots and followed me upstairs.

I let us in, and the distinct odor of sex hit me. Shit. I hadn’t cleaned up from last night’s marathon sex session with Janiqua. I hit the light switch and stepped aside for Delilah to enter, a look of apology plastered onto my face.

She took two steps in, sniffed, and turned to me. “Good grief. How many girls were in here last night?”

I chuckled awkwardly and set my keys down. “Just one, actually.”

“Poor thing. Did she survive?” Delilah saw my discomfort with the question and rolled her eyes. “Look ... if this works out, you and I will be naked together—a lot. We’re going to be very intimate with each other. So you have to be able to roll with the punches and talk about sex with me. Got it?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Sorry. We had a few rounds. One on the table, one on the couch, and one on the bed. With a little bit of shower thrown in for good measure. I didn’t have a chance to clean up before you got here.”

“Hm. I kinda like that.”

It was hard to tell if she meant she liked that I hadn’t had a chance to clean up or that I’d had sex all over my apartment. I decided to assume the latter for the moment. Delilah seemed to have had enough of checking out my apartment, so she whirled around and put one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone. “Ready to drop trou and let me see what you’ve got?”

“Drop trou? Are you British now?” I slid my shorts down and kicked them off. Then I grabbed my boxer briefs to yank them down but paused, realizing I was still packing my micropenis. “Maybe I should go in the back and get it hard?”