Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hmmm, I guess you can say I have a type. Everyone does, after all, and if you look at my life, I lean towards more forceful and ambitious women. Not because I am submissive in life or in the bedroom but because I am ambitious myself. Logically, I would be inclined towards individuals who align with my characteristics. Still, I didn't see my first actual relationship happening so young or with a supposed straight girl. That was kind of a surprise. For both of us, thinking back on it now." Isabel Cadaval. "

Waking with a start, Ayah Thomason opened her eyes to the blinding light of the sun and hissed in pain before covering them with a pillow. Her head was pounding hard, her mouth was dry, and her body felt bone-tired. In other words, she was hungover, and badly at that. So badly in fact that she wasn't 100 percent sure where the fuck she was right now. The last thing she remembered was fighting with her date, who left her at the club and…..

Tossing the pillow away and sitting up in the bed Ayah looks around and says, "Fuck." As it all came back to her.

The soft lips, sweet smell, soft touch, and curvy body of a Latina girl she had danced with at the club before the fight. The same girl she had pinned against a door then a bed as they started to fuck. And by the looks of the room in every location they could find.

Placing her hands over her face, Ayah moans, "This is not happening."

But just by looking down at her naked body that had more than a few hickies on her chest and inner thighs told her the whole story. Now, Ayah never had a problem with gay people. Her willingness to dance with Isabel even after she realized she was a lesbian was proof of that, but she had never thought about having sex with another girl. So, her mind was kind of in a tail spin right now.

"Where are my clothes?" Ayah asks out loud but doesn't find anything of hers lying around. Nor does she see Isabel anywhere.

She does spot a robe, however, so getting up on unsteady feet, she goes and grabs it. It was pretty long on her, in all honesty, but from what she remembered, Isabel was pretty tall—much taller than her 5'6" frame.

Once she had the robe on, Ayah made her way over to the door and opened it, only to be hit with a wave of what smelt like food—a smell that made her both hungry and sick at the same time. Making her way downstairs towards where the smell is coming from, Ayah stops momentarily and looks inside what could have only been the living room. Only instead of couches and loveseats, there are desks with computers and other electronics scattered around. She wasn't sure, but there had to be at least 10 grand worth of equipment in there, if not more.

Putting the strange and expensive sight out of her mind, Ayah heads for what she thinks is the kitchen. Walking through the swing door, the first thing that catches her eye is Isabel. Well, not Isabel, but more like a part of Isabel. That part being her round full ass clad in red satin panties that formed perfectly to her backside. An ass that she had gotten to know very well last night.

It takes a moment for Ayah to pull her eyes away from Isabel's backside and look up instead. Something she wished she hadn't done as Isabel was looking back at her with a knowing smirk on her face. A knowing smirk that Ayah suddenly had the desire to slap off her face. That lovely, beautiful face with full, kissable lips and a longer than average tongue.

"No, stop that. You're not gay, no matter what you did last night or how good it felt." Ayah tells herself.

"Good morning. Sleep well?" I ask the woman who was had just been checking out my butt a moment ago. It made me feel very proud of myself, and who wouldn't when you had such an effect on someone?

"I got a headache," Ayah says as she walks over to a table in the kitchen.

"I bet you do. I wasn't with you the whole night, but going by how aggressive you were last night, you most likely drank a lot. Coffee or hair of the dog?" I ask with a smirk on my face.

"Both," Ayah says with a moan of discomfort—both at the headache and the reminder of what happened last night.

I bring both over, set them down in front of her, and then go back to cooking. I let her sit silently until I bring over a plate of eggs and some slices of bananas.

Looking up at me momentarily, Ayah says, "Thank you."

I smile and say, "You're welcome."

Then, I took a seat and ate in silence for a while. I sipped my coffee, and she slowly ate the eggs I had made her. Finally, she asked the obvious question.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Hmmm, I put them in the wash. I am not sure, but I think you spilt something on them last night. I mean, I would love to take credit for how wet they were, but they smelled too much like alcohol." I say with a smirk.

Ayah doesn't find the joke or new all that funny, but instead of being angry, she says, "So I am stuck here naked until my clothes are clean. Great,"

I can hear the sarcasm in her voice and say, "Wow, I didn't think you found my company so disagreeable, especially after last night."

Ayah give me that look that says I am about 10 seconds from an ass whipping that while fun in a different context wouldn't be in this case. Therefore, I averted my gaze with an innocent demeanor and remained silent. Letting her continue to eat in silence. She wasn't the first woman I had slept with, after all, who, upon waking the next day, was not exactly happy with what had happened the night before.

Feeling an awkward air fill the room, Ayah finally looks up again and asks, "So this your place?"

"Yep, well, it was once my grandpa's, but he passed away and left it to me," I say with a soft smile, thinking, at least she is trying to talk to me. A few didn't even try to do that much—just grabbing their clothes, clean or not, and leaving.

"It's a nice place," Ayah says to me.

"Thank you," I respond.

"And those computers I saw in the other room?" She asks.

"Oh, those are mine," I answer happily.

"Hmmm," Is all she says.

This left me a bit confused, so I asked, "What?"

Ayah waves me off and says, "Notting, you just didn't look like a nerd is all."

Instead of feeling insulted, I smile even more and say, "I don't? What do nerds look like?"

"Not like you," Ayah says, this time looking at my body and not my face.

"Would a pair of glasses and a schoolgirl uniform help?" I tease this time. Giving her a knowing look.

Ayah, however, only rolls her eyes at me and says, "How come I am not surprised you own such things."

"I like to roleplay," I answer innocently.

"Oh, I know. After all, you kept calling me Mommy last night," Ayah says, not understanding what had gotten into her or why she had been flirting with the girl before.

"Hey, you're the one that kept pulling my hair and demanding I call you that. Can I help it that you can be very convincing?" I ask her.

Ayah shakes her head and changes the subject: "So what do you do for a living? If you don't mind me asking, I can understand the house, but while I don't know much about computers, I can tell those are top-of-the-line."

"I am a business owner," I say to her with a smile.

Looking at me like she didn't believe me, Ayah says, "Really?"

"Yep, I am an entrepreneur," I answer in a cheerful voice that doesn't help my case.

"What is your business called?" Ayah asks.

"Ezekiel Inc," I tell her proudly.

"Never hear of you." She says bluntly. She smiles as I look down, cast.

With a pout on my face, I say, "Well, we have only been in business for a year so far. But just wait; soon, we will be known around the world."

"Sure you will be," Ayah says in a voice like she is reassuring a child.

Making me give her a playful glare. "Okay, fine, what do you do for a living?"

"I am a fashion designer," Ayah says proudly.

Now it was my turn to scuff, and I did. Loudly at that.

This makes Ayah narrow her eyes at me angrily. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I say playfully.

"Whatever." She said with a huff.

Again, we go back to eating till finally Ayah asks, "So what does your company do?"

"We offer antiviral programming and protection. As well as internet services." I answered her.

"Really?" She assumed it would be something silly, considering Isabel's playful nature.

"Yep, we already have some contracts for some companies to overhaul their security systems. Our internet service has just started, so it's small right now, but we are hopeful," I tell her.

Ayah thinks to herself, " That does sound kind of impressive." If it were true, and judging by the equipment in the living room, it most likely was.

"What are you working on now?" Ayah asks.

"Oh, I am so happy you asked. Come on, I will show you," I say, getting up and heading to the living room.

Getting up from her seat, Ayah followed along, seeing as she had nothing better to do. When she entered the living room, she saw Isabel bring up what looked like a design for a filter—just your average run-of-the-mill filter, like the types you use in cars. Something she knew a bit about because her brothers loved to work on cars.

"Is that it?" She says clearly, not unimpressed.

Looking at her, I say, "That is it? You have no idea what you are looking at, do you?"

"It looks like a filter. The same kind used in every car in America." Ayah states. Still unimpressed.

"Wrong. This is the Smog Eliminator, name pending." I say in an excited voice.

Only to earn a deadpan and even bored look from Ayah's face.

"Okay, clearly you're not keeping up," I say to her.

"Maybe because you suck at explaining things," Ayah responds back.

I let out a sigh as she was right. She had no idea what this filter did. "You're right. I will explain."

"There really is no need," Ayah says dully.

"Oh no, no, I insist," I tell her.

Again, having nothing better to do, Ayah decides to humor her, "Fine, explain."

I smile and say, "Okay, so forget about global warming and all that stuff. It doesn't matter if you believe in it or not, okay? But I think you and anyone else can agree that air pollution of any kind is harmful to human health, right?"

"Oh god, are you one of those hippie Earth First people?" Ayah asks.

"No…." I stopped and thought about it for a while. "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. Air pollution is bad. Clean air good." I say to her like she was a child now.

Which earns me the middle finger.

I ignore her and keep going. "If you don't believe it, sit in an enclosed space and turn a car on. If you don't die, you'll see my point."

"Okay….." Ayah said, becoming slowly more bored.

This annoyed me even more, so I moved on: "The Smog Eliminator is a new type of filter, unlike anything else in the world. Once installed in a car or an industrial plant, it will reduce the release of harmful particles significantly, resulting in clear, breathable air. And when I mean eliminate, I mean I could hook your face up to the tailpipe of a car, and you would be just fine."

That actually gets Ayah's attraction. She honestly didn't believe half the shit those environmental people said about global warming. She found it more than a little far-fetched that humans could impact the world on a global scale without the aid of nukes. That said, she would have to be a total fool to be unaware of how harmful pollution was for a person's overall health.

Hearing Isabel make such a statement was quite difficult to believe. "You're kidding."

"Nope, if everything works out right and I am able to secure funding, I can put my design into action within a year. Can you imagine a world of clean, breathable air?" I say with a wide smile.

Again, Ayah didn't fully believe what she was hearing, but as she looked around once more at the room, she could see all the signs of someone who truly believed in what they were doing—the empty plates with leftover food on them. Empty takeout boxes and coffee cups that have not been cleaned. Well, it reminded her of her own place, if she was being honest. Ayah couldn't tell you how often she stayed up for days on end working on her fashion designs and trying to come up with something new and original. It was her passion, her life, and clearly, this was Isabel's. It was a very attractive quality to her.

"Which way is the bathroom?" Ayah asks suddenly. Catching me off guard.

"Uh, upstairs, first door on the left," I say, and before I know it, Ayah stands up, grabs my hand, and pulls me along.

"Uh, where are we going?" I ask her.

Without looking back, Ayah says, "To take a show then back to bed."

"Huh?" I say in a confused voice, but don't argue. Who would, if they were in the same situation?

"Looks like Doug is going to rip into me when I show up for work late again. Oh, well, don't care." I say to myself as we enter the bathroom.

Somewhere inside the Pentagon, several ranking military members are meeting in a room to discuss their next course of action regarding an antiviral program released to the public just over a year ago.

"Alright, Colonel Mitchell. Do you wish to start us off?" a man of the rank of General asks.

"Yes, sir," said Colonel Mitchell, knowing he wasn't really being asked to start anything as much as ordered to.

"Gentlemen, before each of you is a copy of a folder containing all the current information we have on Isabel Cadaval, creator of the Buzzsaw Anti-Viral program and now owner of Ezekiel Computers and Technology Inc. Please take a moment to read what is in front of you so we can continue." Mitchell says.

Once everyone has done as they are told and read the documents, one man with the rank of Major asks. "Are we sure their information is accurate?"

"We are," Mitchell says.

The room went quiet momentarily until one man said, "Well, this girl must either be a genius or have had some form of help. From what I am reading here, she has managed to create a software program that has our county's best and brightest completely stumped."

"So far, we have come across no information proving or disproving Isabel had help regarding the creation of Buzzsaw," Mitchell says.

"This is unbelievable. Are you saying a girl who has never been to college and with out-of-date equipment somehow created a programming system that we here at the Pentagon have been unable to crack?" Another man asks.

"That is correct," A man who looked like a doctor of some kind answered for the Colonel Mitchell says.

"Doctor, how is this possible?" Another man asks.

"I can't honestly tell you, gentlemen. What Ms. Cadaval has accomplished is nothing short of remarkable. All I know is that on December 12th, an ex-colleague from my days at university came to me with a disk containing the Buzzsaw program and claimed that he and the best of his students could not crack it. Of course, I was skeptical of this claim as my former colleague is one of the best computer engineers in the world. Yet, after he showed me the program and ran me through it step by step, I fully understood how he and his students had failed to crack it. For I kid you not, this software program is currently the most advanced software in the world. At least 5 to 10 years ahead of anything we are currently able to make." The Doctor said with complete confidence. Both fascinated with the system and frustrated with it. As with his colleague and his students, he and his team could not beat it.

"Can you tell us more, Doctor?" The General in the room asks.

Looking at the General, the Doctor answered, "What I can tell you, General, is that like everyone else so far, my team and I have been able to get past the first and second layers of security. It took some time, but it was possible. Like everyone else, however, we are now trapped on the third layer and making no progress in getting past it. My team and I also believe that several more are waiting for us past this third layer."

"How long do you predict it would take for you and your team to break it, Doctor?" The General asks.

The doctor has to take a moment to consider this before answering, "The best estimated time is 3 to 5 years at the pace we are going. Worst case, 5 to 10 years."

"How long would you say it would take for other agencies to do the same?" The General asks.

"General, it would be safe to say that if my team and I can't break through it, then neither can anyone else." The Doctor answers.

"So what you're really saying is that it would be to our benefit to have this system for ourselves?" The General asks.

The doctor leans forward and says, "Considering Ms. Cadaval built this system with out-of-date equipment, it stands to reason that with access to both funding and better equipment, she could create something far superior."

No more needs to be said as the General looks over at Mitchell and asks, "Colonel, what are the chances of her willingness to work with the US?"

"I would say they are quite high, sir. A quick background check on Isabel and her company shows a very pro-US stance. While still new and relatively small, the company already shows a strong preference towards hiring military vets. With at least 7 of her current employees having been part of one branch of the military or the other. Also, we know that her CEO, a Dong Smith, was a highly decorated Second Lieutenant of the US Marines, while her grandfather was a veteran of the Vietnam War. There is no reason to believe she would be unwilling to work with the US government." Mitchell answers.

"Very well, Colonel. I will leave making contact with her to you, " the general says.

"Sir," is all the Colonel says in turn.