Proof that I’m writing… Progenitor 3 opener

Progenitor1thumbThis is the opener from Progenitor 3, which at this rate is likely to be the first story I complete on my new laptop.  There’s been some substantial improvements vs the briefly-released free version, and I’m really liking how Amita’s rewrite is going.  Her motivations ranged from psychotic-sounding to petty in previous drafts, and this is a lot better than it’s been in the past.

The link, of course, is to Progenitor 1.  If the last place you read it was on a website, you should either download the free eBook version linked from the Progenitor 1 page (it’s better edited than the website versions) or pick up the commercial version (which contains far more content than the free versions have).

The Beginning of Progenitor 3
Behind me, a public bus growled off into the distance with a throaty growl.  I paid it no attention though, because the two hot young co-eds in front of me were far more interesting.  We’d gotten off the bus together, and now they were leading me down the street towards the sorority house they lived in.  The only thing on my mind was the way their well-formed asses swayed in front of me, oscillating with a practiced strut as they walked down the sidewalk ahead of me.
They weren’t just sorority sisters; Erica and Amita were roommates.  Amita was East Indian, with medium-dark skin and a toned body, and she wore skin-tight electric blue shorts.  Her generous bosom was confined by a sports bra which was thin enough to show off her perky nipples, but tight enough that her cocoa-brown cleavage pushed invitingly up through the top.  Erica was a slender white brunette with green eyes which always seemed to sparkle mischievously.  She wore relatively modest jean shorts, along with a yellow cross-hatched string bikini top which technically violated the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” policy at the mall we’d just left – but realistically, such rules rarely get enforced on girls with her body.
The neighborhood we were walking through was suburban, full of large two and three story houses with green lawns.  It was walking distance from college, and it seemed like most of the houses had Greek letters somewhere around their front doors.  I was carrying both the girls’ shopping bags, and the weight was refreshing in my hands.  It’d been decades since I had been this strong, and my 1940s sensibilities meant I was thrilled that I could show the girls a little bit of old-fashioned chivalry – at least, until I inevitably fucked and impregnated both of them.  At this point, that final outcome was a foregone conclusion, but after fleeing from the scene of the orgy I touched off back in the mall, I was hoping to get some rest before it happened.  Soon, the girls turned and walked up to the front door of a stately three-story house with some Greek letters on the door above the peephole.
Erica swung the unlocked front door open, and waved me in.  “Entres vous,” she said in a mock French accent.
I stepped through the door, and the first thing I noticed was that the house was filled with the scent of potpourri candles.  The front room was a cozy sitting area full of couches and chairs.  The floor was faux wood paneling, covered in a few places with small rugs.
“Our room is upstairs,” Erica said as she checked a mail cubby by the door.  “And I’m officially inviting you up to it.  The house rules say that men are only welcome in our room until 8pm, but that only applies if someone knows you’re here.”  She winked and added, “It’s not like they’ll check, unless you’re really loud.”
I nodded.  “Sure, I’m up for hanging out.  What’re your plans for tonight?”
She rolled her eyes.  “Mostly studying, unfortunately.  My organic chemistry professor assigns us homework as if he’s our only class!  I couldn’t possibly make it without Amita here,” she said, indicating her previously silent friend.
“Oh Erica, you’d do just fine on your own,” Amita giggled nervously.  I could tell that she was nervous, but she’d inhaled enough of my pheromones so far that their influence was beginning to push her shyness into the back of her mind.
Erica looked around furtively, then said quietly, “C’mon, before someone sees you here and makes you sign in.”  She turned and walked up the stairs in front of me, and Amita and I followed behind.  I found myself her shorts; they were a work of art which hugged every curve of her early-20s ass.  It was impossible not to enjoy the view, and my dick hardened a little in spite of myself.
In my position, a normal college guy’s mind would be nervous, micro-analyzing his every move in a desperate attempt to avoid messing up his chance to get laid.  But I’d just had more sex than the average guy gets in a year in one afternoon, and there had to be at least three hundred women carrying my children by now from the mall alone.  My body, even with its alien enhancements, felt drained and I was hoping to get a nap in before fucking the two sorority girls.
Erica shouldered open the door to their bedroom and plopped down into a chair near the door, while Amita took a few steps forward and dove onto a bed head-first.  I selected a comfy looking beanbag chair near the bed and sat down on it, relatively sure that I hadn’t sat in one in for at least forty years.
Amita sat up in the bed and plucked a t-shirt off of her dresser, then slipped it over her sports bra and began fumbling around beneath.  Moments later, she let out a sigh of relief and pulled the bra out from under her shirt in an impressive feat of agility.  I’m pretty sure that she intended for me to notice how her nipples poked prominently through the shirt, but I avoided making any comments.  I still wanted to try to get some rest before I got her pregnant.
Erica noticed me watching Amita undress, and cleared her throat to draw my attention.  I looked over to the chair she was sitting in, where she sat with her hands clasped behind her head and resting on the top of her neck.  “You’re not a prude, are you?” she asked.
I shook my head, and Erica grinned widely.  “Good,” she said as she pulled the draw string on her bikini top.
“Erica!” Amita gasped out as the cups of her friend’s bikini top flopped down, revealing her well-formed tits and erect nipples.
Erica smirked saucily as she lifted the top off over her head and tossed it onto her study desk, posing coquettishly for a moment.  “Oh Amita, lighten up.  I’m sure he doesn’t mind a little show.  Do you?”
I shook my head and leaned back in the beanbag chair, folding my hands behind my head.  “Not at all, ladies,” I replied.
Truthfully, I was starting to enjoy it a bit too much.  My hard-on was sticking up from my pants like a flagpole, and Erica’s eyes darted down to it before her mouth creased in a guilty-pleasure grin.
“I bet you’re enjoying it, all right,” said Amita.  She arched her back a little, unsure exactly what she wanted to do but certain that showing off a little more couldn’t hurt.
Erica rolled her eyes and got out of her chair, her bare breasts swaying seductively as she walked towards me. I tracked her motion with my head as she plopped down next to me on the beanbag chair.
“You wouldn’t mind sharing the beanbag chair with me, would you?  It’s my favorite place to sit,” she said.  The warmth of her skin seeped into my side as she cuddled up to me, the curve of her breast pressing gently up against my side.
I shrugged and worked my arm around behind her back so that it was more comfortable. “Sharing makes the world go round,” I said resignedly. Inwardly I cringed a little; at this point, I was pretty sure that the nap I’d wanted was history.
Amita stood up from the bed and came over. “Now Erica, that chair looks too small for the two of you.”
Erica giggled.  “It’s fine – unless of course you were planning to join us?” she asked.
Amita’s cheeks flushed so red that I could see it through her cocoa-brown skin as she stammered out, “Well… yes, I’d like to.”
I glanced over at the bed, piled high with pillows like a typical girl-nest.  “How about we take it to the bed then, ladies?”
Erica cracked a half-smile and playfully punched me in the side. “Think you’re getting lucky or something?” she asked.
I wistfully replied, “What I really think, is that I want a nap.  But I’ll take getting lucky, as long as I get to sleep afterwards.”

End of preview

So, Phil’s the same somewhat-reluctant Progenitor he’s always been… but hell, you would be too if you were in his position.  Or, positions…

2 thoughts on “Proof that I’m writing… Progenitor 3 opener

  1. Interested when this will be out; it’s a shame the free version was taken down for the past couple years.

    • So, I should probably address what happened to Progenitor 3 back when it was posted.

      I originally posted it on The Impregnorium, which is the forum I’d posted all of my stories on first. That version of the story garnered a lot of deservedly negative commentary on some aspects of the story, specifically on areas which I felt were kind of forced and contrived in the first place. The whole story had started off because I’d had a great idea for one scene and wrote the story around it, but focusing on that left it feeling like an unbalanced, psychotic sorority girl’s revenge story. I like a lot of aspects of this story but I’m working on fixing what’s wrong with it before re-releasing it.

      When the site I’d posted it on disappeared before I’d posted it anywhere else, I decided to take advantage of that opportunity to polish off the rough spots before re-releasing P3. I realize a lot of fans don’t approve of that approach, but I’d rather have annoyed fans wondering when I’m going to publish than disappointed fans who feel like they got a serious let-down from the third Progenitor story.

      Hope that clears up the issues here around P3 and its disappearance.

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