Chapter 351: You Can’t Rush Some Things

That was a good distraction from worrying about Molly.

I went to the cafeteria and into the back. One of the staff headed to the office to call security. I wasn’t threatening anyone, just looking around. The woman never got to dial out as someone watching the cameras called her and told her who I am.

“Mr. Jones,” she started to say.

“David. Please,” I replied.

We went through the whole how can I kiss your ass bullshit first. Then I managed to tell the woman that I was hungry again. My metabolism effectively burned through what I had eaten by the time I got another serving and returned to my seat.

I told her, “I don’t want to look like a pig, even if I eat like a horse. By coming to the kitchen, I’m able to get loaded up with food. Plus, with the portion sizes served to the residents, I would be sitting there eating all day long. It tends to draw a crowd.”

“We have two dozen, ten-pound turkeys cooling. The meat cooler has about every cut of meat. I can ask someone to grill you a three-pound porterhouse steak if you like. I will make sure you have bowls of side items as well. Will that work?”

I grinned and told her, “That sounds good to me. I haven’t had a whole turkey to myself before. I’ll take one of those and then one of the steaks, plus sides.”

You think I will waste this, don’t you, but you won’t question me because I’m the boss.

A man brought over one of the turkeys. He gave me carving tools and a plate to use to eat.

“Mind if I join you?” a pretty teenager asked. “I can’t sit around and do nothing. My foster families loved that I was always cleaning, cooking, dusting, and doing other household chores. Some loved it too much and would beat me if I didn’t do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and whatever else they felt I needed to do. They’ve beaten me, chained me outside in the cold, naked, and some horrors I don’t wish to remember.”

I nodded, so she got bowls of sides, a plate, and our drinks. We took turns carving off parts of the turkey to eat. By the time my steak arrived, we were down to bones and cartilage on the turkey. I split my steak with her and asked for another.

“Do you think you run the place or something?” she asked jokingly.

“I’m David Jones, and I don’t run the place, but I do own it,” I said before eating a spoonful of peas.

Why so confused? It isn’t that hard of a thing to believe.

She finally got her wits about her and replied, “Hi, David Jones. I’m Electra. Probably never was my real name, but that is what every family called me, so it stuck. One family tried to call me the Energizer Bunny because I never seemed to run down. I didn’t mind. They were the first family that loved me when I came into their home, and I loved them back. Some dick got a stick up his ass when reviewing the adoption paperwork. It seems many comments were in my file, from everyone in that family, saying I kept going and going, all day and night long, without stopping. I’ve never met a more strait-laced family in my life. I’m used to being bounced around, even though this time hurt more than the others. What tore me up inside is that they took their biological children away from them as well. The only silver lining is that they kept their kids and me together while someone grilled the parents. I’ve been in foster homes where caregivers molest the children, have the kids pleasure other kids and the adults, and all manners of perversion. One day I was taking a bath, and only when I was going to get out did I notice there were no towels. The father was the only one home. When he brought me the towel, he reached inside the door to toss it on the counter. I asked him why, after my bath, because he washes his children, including his thirteen-year-old special-needs daughter. I was eleven and still flat as an ironing board. I didn’t have anything to see.”

We split the next steak that arrived and dug in while it was hot.

“You know what he told me?” Electra asked. “I was a guest in his home, and everyone in his family ensured they did not invade my privacy. If they adopted me, then I would be family, and that was entirely different. Then he wouldn’t care one bit if I ran around the house in just panties or naked if I wanted. Until then, I must dress appropriately. The cops asked me if anyone in the family ever touched me in the wrong way. From all the interviews, the only child in his home that he touched in a way that someone might consider questionable was his special-needs daughter. Between yeast infections and catheters, it was unavoidable. When they finally had their children returned to them, the family stopped fostering children. I went to a foster home in another state. When I got here, I asked about the adoption, and they had no record of it.”

I think she can eat even me under the table. I’m starting to get full, and she is still eating with gusto.

I explained that I had a friend here who needed some help working through a very traumatic experience, and I appreciated Electra being here to keep me distracted.

“She is an excellent friend, and I care for her deeply. I’m doing all I can to let the professionals do their thing and not rush over to be there with her. If I’m there with her, she will find ways to bury things for a short time. Having you here to talk to has helped pass the time,” I told her.

“I’ve liked it too. Today is the first time I’ve talked to a boy and not had him trying to figure out how to get into my panties. Not that I would mind that one bit, but on my terms, not his,” she explained. “If you don’t mind waiting around, I have to clean up our dishes, or it will drive me crazy thinking about it. Can you hang out a bit? I’m enjoying your company. All the kids here have heard rumors about you. I’m glad to find that you aren’t some wealthy dick playing a nice guy to get laid. It is hard for most of us living here to believe you don’t want anything in return except for us to be the best we can.”

We took the dishes to the dishwashing area, and Electra was the one that dragged me out of there before more things came in that needed washing.

Outside she pulled me under a streetlight, made sure I could see her wet shirt was now transparent, and so was the camisole underneath.

“David,” she said softly. “You seem like an honest guy. Are my boobs too small?”

After reaching over to grab her shirt between her tits and belly button and pull it out to unstick it from her tits, I told her, “They are a bit small for your body, but they should be. When I can, I will eat three to four thousand calories a meal. It takes a lot to get me full, and today when I got full, you kept working through the food left in front of us. Electra, there is no way I could miss that you are skin and bones. For your boobs to get bigger, they need fat, and you don’t have much. Would I be wrong in guessing that since that adoption fizzled out, that you’ve been hungry all the time, at least before coming here?”

“None of them starved me if that is what you are thinking. Every family since the adoption failed always had plenty of food for me to eat. I could stuff myself, and two hours later, I’m eating again,” Electra told me. “David, I think I take a dump maybe twice a week. The doctors put cameras in there two days after I arrived. I don’t have any parasites. My body uses all it can get, so only indigestible things come out. I don’t mind one bit. When I want to have some fun or get someone back, I will eat only beans and onions.”

We had been talking away, so I hadn’t paid attention to my surroundings, other than the unconscious scans for dangers. I found myself in Electra’s room, with her door locked and closed.

“Will you help me get out of these soaked clothes? I can do it myself, but I don’t want to have you laughing at me as I fight them. I need a shower, and so do you. Your clothes are worse than mine, not that I’m complaining,” Electra asked.

My implant told me that I would find clean clothes, underwear, and the like waiting on me out in her room after I showered. Basic toiletries would be there too.

“How many girls have you undressed, David,” Electra asked, looking a bit scared.

She had to run to pee from laughing so hard when I told her about my outlet mall jobs. I was naked by the time she flushed.

She did come over to check my dick out, briefly, before saying, “Not that I’ve seen a lot of dicks in my life, but I think yours qualifies as being on the long side. You do know some kids joke that you are a god in disguise. You’re rich, have a big dick, a Greek God’s body, keep your hands to yourself, and are an all-around nice guy. Do you know how to wash a girl from head to toe, including her hair, as some girls say?”

“Only one way to find out, provided you want me in the shower with you,” I replied.

It didn’t seem right to say that I have a toddler daughter who I know how to wash very well.

Under her breath, Electra said she wanted me inside her, in her bed.

I washed her hair and worked the conditioner in so well that she had an orgasm. By the time I scrubbed her body and then used her exfoliating mitt, everywhere, except her nipples and pussy, she had five orgasms. She insisted on washing me in return, especially my dick. I watched her check me over, critically, for signs of diseases.

Only when heading into her room, did she realize I had no dry clothes and said, “Uh. Doesn’t this suck? It completely slipped my mind that all your clothes are wet and dirty. It isn’t like I have anything that will fit you.”

“It seems that one thing about being the boss is that the staff has a lot of nosey people working here,” I said with a laugh. “I’m sure they are tracking me on the security cameras. Someone took my wet clothes, and it appears yours as well. On your dresser, there are some toiletries, jeans, tee-shirts, underwear, sleep pants, and even dry shoes.”

“You mean you aren’t going to let me fuck you and then leave?” Electra asked.

Pulling her naked body to mine, I kissed her lips and said, “If you want me to stay here tonight, I will. They told me I have a place to sleep on the top floor in each apartment tower. Your bed is a bit small for both of us. We can go upstairs to see if I have a bigger bed if you want. I’m willing to bet that there will be a freezer packed with ice cream, a lot of protein-laded power bars, fruits, nuts, and things to fix. We might luck out to find I have a TV and a couch too.”

Electra was trying to pull me out of her room, with us still naked. Most of those in her suite were sitting in the common area playing a game. She froze when they all looked up to see her there naked. I gently pulled her back into her room and closed the door.

“If you are curious, two of the girls pushed their hands inside their panties and began rubbing around. One guy unloaded in his pants, and the rest of the boys all had wood, even the one that thinks he may be gay,” I said as I dressed her in sweats.

I dressed in jeans and a shirt. I carried the rest of my clothes and what I got for Electra to wear tomorrow. It hadn’t taken five minutes, but when we came out, only one kid was there, and they were drying up a wet spot on the couch.

“Damn it, Electra,” the girl said. “Here I was waiting to hear you moan out in pleasure, and you start to rush out naked, pulling a nude guy out behind you. I’m waiting to have my head on straight before having sex, but you know I play with myself all the time. Since I got off the first time when I was six, I’ve never squirted. Damn, what a mess. Have fun, you two. I want the blow-by-blow details in the morning. I will have two towels under me, just in case. Everyone else got all embarrassed, like always.”

The girls in the main common area giggled before Electra, and I headed upstairs. I didn’t know what to expect. It will be a surprise for us both.

While I didn’t have a badge to send the elevator up to the top floor, I did see the tiny LED for one of the all-access badge readers. I pushed in the correct sequence of colored energy to let the elevator’s computer know it was me pressing the button. The elevator opened into a lobby with three doors. In front of one of them sat two orderlies.

“Your friend arranged with her doctor to procure the various herbal and homeopathic items she required to, as she put it, slow her mind for her to sleep twelve to eighteen hours. I don’t know what computer wizardry she expected to be brought to where she now rests, but she provided a very detailed map of her body with the exact places for the different types of sensors,” one guy told me.

The woman orderly with him said, “I’ve seen many types of crazy in my career. I’ve heard crazier things from doctors. She is saner than any of the doctors and me, though her instructions are bizarre. Molly said to tell you that some computer person is checking her over. If we find something, this computer guy will ping you. I may have heard her correctly, but she told me to make sure that you didn’t let the triplets get into her head or their sister.”

“Please make sure everyone knows to keep her away from all the lap pools, physically if need be,” I told them. “I have to keep Molly from using her brains against herself. I’ve already ensured that her diet is heavily restricted.”

The guy orderly asked, “You need to sit down and go over the safety requirements for all areas of the complex, sir. All aquatic centers have no less than two people on staff at all times, plus roamers that check the changing and shower areas at random intervals. There is no way the patient can get the chance to drown.”

“I did already know about those protocols because Molly wrote them,” I explained. “Set an alarm for every fifteen minutes, and then start reading through her records. Some people escape the things they do not wish to address by using alcohol or drugs. Others become adrenaline junkies or use sex to occupy time when they would have to face their demons. Molly will do that, too, if she can devise a way to make it happen. She already tried to pull one over on her doctor by requesting specific foods to block her problems from her mind. Swimming is her crack. I have seen her swim for hours without stopping, and she doesn’t pee in the pool. If she gets into a pool, it will take days to get her back to where she was when she arrived.”

I then asked which doors led to where Electra and I could find places to sleep.

“They warned us that you were the real deal,” the female order told me. “The whole floor is yours. Molly somehow hacked the system and locked down this corner so that the only way in or out is through us.”

“Door number one then,” I joked.

Inside I had my suspicions, but it was both more and less than I expected.

The area did take up the remainder of the space that Molly didn’t cordon off. Most of it was open space occupied by tables, chairs, and oversized beanbags. It had a larger kitchen than the other suites, but that was due to having a commercial refrigerator and an industrial freezer. I also noticed we had two half and one full bathroom out here. About where the regular suites had their common area, I had two.

“Wow, this place is huge,” Electra said.

Going into the common area, we found a slightly larger flat-screen TV and more couches. The designers filled the majority of the space with enormous bathrooms. They expanded the width of the bedrooms to accommodate a king or queen bed. Off the common area, we found another bathroom that dwarfed the ones attached to the bedrooms.

This large bathroom had a four-person shower, claw foot tub that is large enough for two people side-by-side, a six-person jacuzzi tub, and one of the walk-in, pool-type bathtubs. Large fluffy towels filled cabinets along the walls. Spa robes of all sizes and lengths were on hooks between the towel cabinets.

“Oh my god!” Electra said randomly. “Oh, wow, look at this tub? Do you want to take a bath?”

After she stopped giggling and stripping off her clothes, she explained, “For all their faults, the family that took me in, after the adoption fell through, did their best to comfort me. Their idea of comforting someone is way off, but they were pretty cool. One of the first things the mom did was shove earbuds in my ear, plug them into an MP3 player, and introduce me to Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin, and tons of what they called the equivalent of house music from the late sixties and early seventies. I didn’t even know that she kept feeding me shrooms and pot brownies for the entire first month I lived with them. If one of the other kids didn’t get hurt and she had to spend a week at the hospital, I wouldn’t have found out. The dad sat me down to explain that his wife had to do something to help me. I was so sad I became suicidal. It did go a long way to explaining why I woke up naked in bed with the four other foster kids most days. They weren’t stoned, just embracing the hippy lifestyle, except no free loving. When the mom came home, I found out that I had nothing to worry about from the boys trying to screw me. I didn’t have that worry about her husband, for that matter. A whole bottle of little blue pills wouldn’t raise their dead cocks. None even had piss boners in the morning. I couldn’t ever become part of their family, but when they decided it was time for me to talk, the mom slipped me something that made it very therapeutic. No one told me why. Instead of going to my therapist appointment, the social worker moved me to another foster home. At least I got to keep the MP3 player, and the hippie mom managed to send me brownies every week, plus what she jokingly called shroom cake. It made the child molester hell I landed in bearable. I’m sure I only escaped there a virgin because I was always going around cleaning all the time. I never sat still long enough for someone to fuck me.”

We were soaking in the big clawfoot tub when she came back from memory lane.

She found The Wall in the on-demand movie library. We watched it while I waxed every hair below her neck that wasn’t covering her pussy. I trimmed those short, per her instructions. Once done using the oil to remove the remaining wax, I started massaging in one of Molly’s custom lotions.

When I finished, Electra laid down beside me. As we watched the movie, she slowly moved her hand down until she started rubbing my dick. I seemed to be almost unconscious as Electra intently watched the movie. Over the next ten minutes, Electra slid down to where she could still watch the video while licking and sucking on my dick.

I don’t think she even knows that she is deep throating me from the side.

I soon came into her mouth.

Pausing the movie, she said, “My turn if you don’t mind eating my pussy. You won’t be the first or last, but you will be the first I want to lick and finger me.”

I will be the best you’ve had too.

Electra’s pussy tasted like pussy. She didn’t have a sweet or bitter taste. It did take a bit more work to get her off because she had a smaller clit covered by a thick hood. Once I realized it, I pulled the hood back until only a thin layer of it lay between my tongue and the sensitive tip. Sometimes, the body and brain adapt. For Electra, once she, or someone, could stimulate her clit, she got huge, powerful orgasms. Better yet, her clit never got too sensitive, so no need to push, or pull, my face from between her legs. When I started to finger her, I found she had a cherry still but plenty of room for one finger.

Again shortchanged slightly, Electra didn’t feel enough from vaginal stimulation to cum from a finger banging or sex. However, her g-spot covered a spot from the little pocket behind her pubic bone almost to her cervix and is two fingers wide. It wasn’t as sensitive as others I have rubbed, but the larger size made up for it. She finally pushed my head away and pulled my finger from her pussy.