NOTE: This is set in the same Universe as Daily Commute, and features the character of Corinne from that story, but it's not a direct sequel, and they can be read in any order.


Phoebe took a deep breath, leaning on the sink and looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Corinne gave her hand a squeeze.

"Nervous?"

Phoebe nodded. The face looking back at her in the mirror was one she'd rather not linger on. Pale, a little bit fat, and rather asymmetrical. A haircut that she thought suited her but definitely wasn't cool.

She looked like a librarian, and not the kind of librarian who was really just a porn star in glasses. The kind of librarian who was a dork who rarely got laid.

The Metamorphosis was supposed to have fixed her.

That was the day, years ago, when everything had suddenly changed. People all over the world had woken up with a chill new attitude about life in general, and sex in particular.

It had become perfectly normal and socially acceptable to just start smooching with a cute stranger in the dairy aisle, or to see someone getting eaten out under the table at a restaurant.

The last time Phoebe had gone out to the museum with her friends, she'd seen Corinne making eyes with a hot young art professor over some Assyrian bas-reliefs, and a few minutes later she'd spotted them fucking behind the gift shop.

Phoebe avoided those kinds of encounters like the plague. In this new world of complicated little codes, the winks and hand gestures and earrings, she felt lost. Awkward. Afraid of rejection.

It didn't make sense, she knew, to fear rejection now that you could walk out your door and proposition the first ten adults you saw, and no one would be offended. But somehow the fact that everyone was getting it all the time made the idea of being spurned even more crushing. She had always been terribly shy, and apparently it would take more than a worldwide spiritual-slash-sexual awakening to change that.

Her last attempt to break out of her shell had been a big party where people were hooking up left and right. Phoebe hated parties. She'd tried to talk to a couple people, laughed awkwardly at maybe-pickup-lines she couldn't hear over the crowd, and eventually spent an hour lurking in a dark corner feeling sorry for herself.

She had always wanted more than anything else to just be invisible. And now, she was about to be very visible indeed.

"What if nobody is interested?" she said. Her stomach sank wildly from the pre-humiliation of it.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Corinne.

Slowly, Phoebe clicked a new bead into place in her left earring, just below the crossbar indicating her pronouns. A bright green orb, slightly opalescent. It was pretty, but it wasn't a fashion accessory, it was a sign, one that came in metaphorical big flashing letters: FUCK ME.

She has first seen somebody wearing one a few months ago.

It had been in the lobby of a glassy new Manhattan shopping complex Corinne had dragged her to. There, surrounded by sharply dressed people bustling past with their Christmas gifts, was a rather fine mahogany table which looked like it normally had prissy floral arragments on it.

Lying on that table had been a stocky, blonde, bearded man, wearing nothing but his earrings, the bright green bead aglow in the tasteful lighting. There was a good-looking guy in a charcoal grey overcoat fucking him in the ass.

The blonde man's chest and face sparkled with come. His face was red, which might have been true even normally, and he was moaning softly.

Phoebe had paused to watch, catching Corinne's arm. She saw a young couple watching as well, as they came down the escalator. Their kid bolted off into a video game shop. The adults gave each other a quick kiss, and then one followed the child into the store. The other approached the man on the table, unzipping their pants, and without a word, thrust their cock into the man's mouth.

"Is..." Phoebe remembered herself stammering, "Is that okay? Is he okay?"

"He's wearing a greenie," Corinne had laughed. "He's fine. It means you're, uh, 100% open for business."

"Whoa," Phoebe had said. "No questions asked, huh?"

"Crazy, right? No-o-o thanks."

"Yeah, not in a million freakin' years," Phoebe had said as they boarded the escalator. "God."

That night, she had ridden her vibe to a furious climax thinking about the blonde man getting fucked every which way.

The next night, in Phoebe's fantasy it had been her on the mahogany table.

For a while she had continued to dismiss it as nothing more than jack-off fodder. There was an intoxicating freedom in the idea of letting go of all the anxiety-inducing parts of sex, and just presenting yourself to the world on a platter.

But obviously it wasn't for her. It couldn't be, right?

Sure, the Metamorphosis had made infectious disease a thing of the past. And sure, folks had become incredibly chill about behavior that would once have gotten you cast out from polite society.

But was she really capable of going to go through with this?

"Do you," Corinne said slowly, "Want me to get you started? Break the ice?"

"You're not supposed to ask," Phoebe shot back, more sharply than she had intended. "You're just supposed to do it. Isn't that the whole point?"

"Ah! Sorry."

Corinne nestled up behind Phoebe and cupped her boobs.

"You're wearing two bras?" Corinne giggled.

"I always wear two," Phoebe scowled at her friend in the mirror. "Gotta keep the ladies contained."

"You're too funny."

Corinne reached up under Phoebe's purple t-shirt and — pop! pop! — unclasped the two bras. Phoebe meekly raised her arms as Corinne pulled the whole assemblage up over her head.

She snatched at the shirt, though, and pulled it back on as Corinne stuffed the bras in her purse.

It was a shirt she'd been thinking about throwing out, because it was a little too tight. But it, along with one of her shortest (not really that short) skirts, seemed appropriate for today's purpose.

"There you go," Corinne grinned, and gave her a firm swat on the ass, directing her towards the door. "At least let the people see some jiggle."

Phoebe poked her head cautiously out of the restroom, earning herself another swat. She glared at Corinne, and started to walk.

Outside, people were pulling on roller-skates. Just beyond was the rink, where the DJ was currently blasting vintage disco tracks. Beyond that was a whole city park full of people who would see Phoebe's earrings and recognize that the little green beads meant blanket permission to touch her body any way they pleased.

A guy saw her as he was lacing up. His eyes went to her ears, and then went wide. He gave her a little smile, but went back to what he was doing.

She reached the meadow at the edge of the rink. Nearby, some teens were skateboarding around a Sojourner Truth statue. A middle-aged man in a Mets cap nodded at her and Corinne as he passed.

A couple more people walked by with nary a glance.

Phoebe had never felt more undesirable.

She was about to rip the damn greenies out of her earrings when she caught a glimpse of a pair of women coming her way down the side path.

"Hel-lo there," one of them purred, sidling up to Phoebe and touching her waist. She had wavy red hair and a tank top that displayed a mass of tattoos across her shoulders and chest.

The other woman, who had medium brown skin and wore a little yellow sundress, a big hat, and a huge smile, approached Phoebe from the front. She cupped Phoebe's chin in her hand, and made an appreciative chirp.

Phoebe stood still as the sundress woman's fingers brushed down her neck, past her collar, finding a nipple tenting the purple t-shirt. She gave Phoebe's nipple a little tug.

The redhead had slid her hands up Phoebe's shirt and was feeling around in there playfully. The attention was sending tingles all through her body. Her breasts, moving with such unfamiliar freedom, were very much at the forefront of her awareness.

"Have you been out here for a while?" asked sundress lady.

"Obviously not," said the redhead. "She's too clean."

"Just a few minutes," confirmed Phoebe. One of the women kissed her on the cheek, and the other around the collarbone.

"Mmm," said the redhead, reaching a hand down her skirt to tease her pubic hairs. "Well, have fun."

The two of them walked off, laughing brightly.

Phoebe felt a hand on her ass, and realized that a man had approached her from behind while she was being fondled by the two women. He had reached under her skirt, and was pulling her panties down her legs.

Corinne, who had been standing nearby with a half-smile, put out a hand, and the man gave her the panties, which she stuffed into her purse.

The man sank to one knee behind her. She guessed he was probably five years older than her, with slightly greying stubble on a firm jaw.

"Bend over, and stand with your legs apart," he said softly.

Wearing greenies didn't mean you were obliged to follow any rando's orders, Corinne knew, but it seemed congruent with the spirit of the thing.

The stranger's fingers slid along her pussy lips, then gently parted them. She could feel his breath. She was trembling a little.

He ran his tongue up her slit, and she gasped. He shifted behind her. Was he standing up?

She imagined him thrusting his cock into her right there on the cobbled path, but she realized after a moment that he had walked away.

"Hey!" she said as she straightened, but not loudly enough for him to hear.

Corinne laughed, and took her hand, leading her on down the path.

"Remember," Corinne said softly. "I'm here for you. Anything you need."

Phoebe tried to remember to breathe normally.

As they approached the lake, a man and a woman turned the corner towards them, walking a border collie.

They noticed her, and she couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she thought she heard the word greenie in there.

The dog ran up to her enthusiastically.

"Oh, what a good fluffer!" she said, extending a hand. "May I?"

Phoebe looked between the man and woman, who nodded encouragement. They looked to be in their twenties, maybe even young enough to have come of age after the Metamorphosis. They were in matchy-matchy couple wear, soft creams and tans.

She fell into a crouch, and gave the dog some very satisfying pets.

The woman squatted down and patted her dog on the side. Then, she stroked Phoebe's hair, and spoke to Corinne. "Is she yours?"

Corinne laughed. "Oh no, Phoebe is a free agent. I'm just here for moral support. And maybe a surreptitious grope or two."

Phoebe laughed as well, realizing for the first time that most of the people here would naturally assume Corinne was a domme, loaning her out to the whole neighborhood.

The woman, who had straight, black shoulder-length hair and a soft, friendly face, was stroking Phoebe's back now, and with her other hand she palmed Phoebe's breasts, one then the other, thumbing the nipples and watching her face appreciatively.

She reached down between Phoebe's legs, probing her wetness with a finger, and then a second. The woman leaned in and kissed her on the lips, very softly. She had on a lovely perfume. Phoebe was beginning to feel almost drunk.

The fingers withdrew, and she groaned in frustration. The black-haired woman raised them to Phoebe's mouth, and she found herself licking her own taste off of them. Then the fingers were pushing into her mouth, dragging along her tongue, teasing her teeth.

The woman stood up, stepping over to her partner, who was still standing quietly nearby. She gave his obvious hard-on a squeeze.

"Let her swallow your come, baby," she cooed to him, unzipping his khakis and taking the border collie's leash from his hand. "She's desperate."

While Phoebe was trying to decide whether to feel insulted, the man approached, wordlessly. She realized her mouth was still open when he slid his cock between her lips in one easy motion.

Phoebe knew she wasn't the most experienced sexpert, but fortunately, she did have some reps under her belt. Her college theyfriend had winced gamely through a few early blow jobs before Phoebe had learned how to keep her teeth to herself.

Now, she wrapped her hand around the stranger's cock and set to her task.

I can do this, she thought.

"Nice!" she heard someone say nearby. Had she begund to attract a crowd?

Someone, maybe the black-haired woman, was stroking Phoebe's hair and back again.

She could feel spit running down her chin, probably making wet spots on her shirt.

"You can do better than that, darling," came the woman's voice. "Take the rest of him."

Well, why not? Phoebe thought, letting her hand fall from the base of the man's cock as she pulled back, looking up into first his dark eyes, and then the woman's.

She rocked forward into his next thrust, and the one after, inching down further onto his cock. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was exciting.

When her nose flattened gently against his pubic mound, she heard a burst of applause from what must have been five or six onlookers. She held the position for a moment, feeling bizarrely proud of herself, and then pulled back awkwardly as his come hit the back of her throat. Another burst hit her in the face, and she caught the rest in her mouth, wrapping her lips around him once more.

Her t-shirt definitely had a wet spot on it now.

The man withdrew, and zipped back up.

"Oh, badass!" said the black-haired woman, giving her a warm grin and a hug. "Hope to see you around."

The woman stood, as did Phoebe, who was greeted by a small crowd of admirers as the dog-walking couple moved on.

Four or five pairs of hands descended upon her, touching, pulling, teasing. She felt almost dizzy. A hand took hers. Corinne.

She let Corinne guide her to a park bench, and she flopped down heavily, panting.

Sitting. Yes, good.

She reached up and touched her face, where a viscous blob was slowly settling into her skin.

"Badge of honor, huh?" said Corinne, holding out a bottle of iced tea. Phoebe took a grateful drag.

They chatted about nothing much for a few minutes. Phoebe was mostly left alone, although a man did stop by briefly to fondle her boob, and another stepped in front of her and parted her knees wide with his hands. He hiked up her skirt to her waist, then wandered off, as if satisfied that he had improved the view.

As she and Corinne talked, Phoebe's fingers wandered to her clit, and she touched herself lazily, just enjoying the breeze and the company and the attention of passersby.

Eventually she rose again, and gave her back a stretch.

They walked along the lake for a bit, past the people watching the ducks and turtles float about. There was a couple fucking on one of the benches.

A young man with a patchy beard gave Phoebe's ass a light smack as he passed her, then flashed her a thumbs-up.

A tall woman with big, dark sunglasses and braids swirled around into a high topknot approached and stood face-to-face with her. The woman gripped the hem of Phoebe's t-shirt and lifted it over her head.

Phoebe raised her arms to let the shirt free, and she left them up there as Corinne wadded the garment up into her handbag, posing with her breasts thrust out at the woman with the swirling braids.

The woman leaned down and took a nipple into her mouth, pinching the other. Phoebe sucked in a breath. A finger entered her.

The woman stepped back, tasting it.

"Bend over," she said, pointing to the railing overlooking the lake.

Phoebe did so without hesitation. Her nipples touched cool metal as she settled against it. The woman's hand was on her cunt again, filling her, one finger, then two.

Another finger found her clit, sending lightning through her. The tall woman's, or someone else's?

A swan swam past her swirling vision. Someone was cupping one of her breasts. She shuddered, almost losing her balance, but a hand steadied her.

Then the ducks went in a funny direction, and she was having maybe the most powerful climax she could remember, and as the stars bursted through her, she let herself fall gently into the hands supporting her.

A moment later, she looked up at the sky, and realized she was sprawled in the grass by the railing, her head nestled in Corinne's lap.

The woman loomed into view, her sunglasses hiding any emotion.

A man knelt next to Phoebe, looking at her interestedly. He had beautiful brown eyes and a long chin, and she reached up to touch his cheek.

Then she reached up with her other hand to touch his thigh, feeling for the bulge in his tight black jeans. She tried to unzip his fly, but the angle was wrong. He helped her.

Then he was climbing on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him into her as hard as she could, clenching deliciously around him, stirring his thrusts into the aftershocks of her orgasm.

He didn't last long, but when he quivered to a stop and rolled aside, the woman in the sunglasses took his place, twitching the hem of her short dress to reveal a dick glistening with precum as she mounted Phoebe.

Her face was impassive, but she fucked Phoebe forcefully, gripping Phoebe's thighs to get her preferred angle.

Rose. Fell. Jerked, moaning slightly, the first sound Phoebe had heard from her since "Bend over."

Then, the woman stood up, straightening her sunglasses, and walked away, silent again.

One of the young skateboarders was now standing over her, and she realized she recognized him. She must have seen him at the library.

Did he recognize his local librarian, lying half-naked in the grass with her legs spread and come oozing out of her? She couldn't tell.

She guess he was probably in college, fresh-faced with a hi-top fade and a jacket that was very unnecessary on this warm summer day but did look cool.

He was regarding her with an expression that she was growing to appreciate, the one that didn't demand she come up with witty banter, that didn't require her to negotiate or to perform or to navigate any social niceties. He was simply deciding what he was going to do to her.

She stretched her neck languorously in her friend's lap, looking back at him with a complacent smile, empty of content or pretensions. She was terribly visible, and blessedly invisible, at the same time, and she loved it.

The young man fell to his knees, between her legs, setting down his skateboard in the grass, and unzipped his pants. As he fucked her, he gripped her breasts, kissing one and then the other, and she dug her fingers into his back.

She found herself imagining wearing her greenie at work, getting bent over the reference desk all day by a series of patrons and co-workers.

When he came, he pulled out of her mid-pump, streaking hot fluid up to her navel. He shook with pleasure, gripping his cock tightly as he groaned release, and Phoebe absent-mindedly rubbed some of around on her skin.

As he rose, grabbing his skateboard and almost running away, she touched her clit, but then thought better of it. There'd be time for more of that.

She stood up, drank some more of Corrine's iced tea, and continued her interrupted walk.

"You've got a pretty funny wet spot on the back of your skirt now," Corinne said, taking a sip.

"Shut up." Phoebe felt back there with a hand, although she had already felt the spot forming earlier, when she'd been lying there with mixed come running copiously down her butt crack. "It's a badge of honor, you said."

"More like vag of honor," said Corinne, and Phoebe cackled, feeling a bit giddy.

They followed a wooded path up the big hill.

Phoebe could definitely detect a trickle running down her leg now, but she ignored it.
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Pub: Dec 29 2020 07:35 UTC
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