Names Have Power: Tim's Magic Voice Makes A Harem by Doctor MC Read Free Book Online Page B

9
A Date With Platinuma
    Monday at six p.m., I was sitting at a table in a
Chinese restaurant, waiting for Sarah/Platinuma to show up for our date.
Minutes passed, and still no Sarah.
    And then she was just inside the front door,
looking for me. I waved, and she walked toward my table, with a smile on her
face.
    (Actually, she didn’t walk, she prowled across the
carpet. Add in the sexy gaze she was giving me, and Sarah the big-breasted platinum
blonde looked sexier in blue jeans and t-shirt—and stilettos—than did the
hostess in her cheongsam .)
    “Sorry I’m late, honey”—Sarah gave me a five-second
kiss—“but I had to drive all roundabout, so Duke couldn’t follow me. Plus I’m
not used to the Smith Freeway at rush hour. Forgive me?” Sarah took a seat to
my left.
    I said, “I’m sorry you’re worried about Duke. You
still nervous about the other night, or is there a new problem with him?”
    Both Sarah’s face and her voice got tense. “Um, Tim
honey, can we talk about Duke later? I really want to enjoy my evening.” She
smiled at me. “With my new boyfriend .”
    ****
    Ten minutes later, I was saying to Sarah, “…mother
was a Car Show Cutie, who married Dad because, she’s often said, `Big Tim is
the real deal.’”
    Sarah was smiling. “That’s so sweet.”
    I continued, “Meanwhile, what Dad used to say was, `I’m
married to the nicest woman in the world, and the most beautiful woman
in the world. I should be arrested for bigamy!’”
    She laughed. “Your family sounds so happy.” I felt
a hand on my knee.
    ****
    When Sarah and I got up to leave the restaurant, I
had a raging boner. That was mainly due to Sarah rubbing my dick through my
pants, through most of the meal.
    As we were moving between the tables, I heard a
woman’s voice say, “That’s Tim Hanson! You know, from commercials?”
    A man’s voice replied, “So that’s why a hot babe
like her is with a guy like that. Because he’s rich.”
    You’re not even close, pal.
    Outside the restaurant, I pulled Sarah in for a
kiss. She put her left arm around my neck, while her right hand was Rubbing me
again. In a husky voice she said, “I think we can skip rounding the bases, and
go straight to home plate.”
    I smiled at her. “Okay, follow me in your car to
my—”
    Oh shit. Slave Deborah!
    I grabbed Sarah’s shoulders and looked into her
eyes. “Honey, I want you to spend the night with me. But you need to know:
There’s someone living with me for a while, and she’ll be coming home about two
o’clock.”
    Sarah shrugged. “Is she your wife? Because—”
    “No, not my wife. But she—”
    “Will you tell me to go home as soon as she walks
in?”
    “No way. But she—oh hell, Deborah’s a sex slave.”
    I don’t expect a stripper to be a hardline
feminist. But when I told Sarah I was keeping a sex slave, I expected some kind of nasty reaction. I sure didn’t expect to see Sarah smile .
    “Mmm, my Timmy is a love machine . I guess I’ll
need to try harder to make you happy.” Sarah’s right hand began rubbing
my bulge again.
    Thank you, Power. Things could have gotten very
ugly when I had two gorgeous women in my bedroom at the same time.
    I walked Sarah to her car, then I started toward my
own car. As I walked past the back of Sarah’s car, I noticed that her back
windshield was covered with duct tape and a big rectangle of cardboard.
    I walked back to Sarah’s car door and knocked on
her window. Seconds later, I asked her, “What happened back there?”
    She sighed. “Duke happened. He used a brick.
Sometime last night, while I was working.”
    ****
    Fifteen minutes later, Sarah and I were in my
living room, kissing. Correction: I was kissing Sarah while I rubbed her tits
through her bra; Sarah, as she kissed me, was loosening my belt and unzipping
me.
    I grabbed my pants before they fell down around my
knees, and pulled my cel phone out of my pocket. “Hold on, I need to text my
slave,” I