Progenitor 2 by haramiru
Trying to shop for clothes, the Progenitor fathers over a hundred children , Progenitor 2
By Haramiru – haramiru@hotmail.com
To those following continuity: In the first version of Progenitor 1, over the space of one paragraph the Progenitor traded an egg for a satchel of cash and rented a room at a hotel. It was just a rough sketch of events, and its removal greatly improved P1’s ending. The upcoming eBook edition (tenatively titled ‘Progenitor: Origin’) expands those events into a story of its own, about as Progenitor 2, with slightly less sex. But what you need to know for continuity here is that the Progenitor traded the egg he had at the end of P1 for a bunch of cash, and used that to rent a room at a hotel. I’m not done producing free Progenitor stories, and the free ones will continue to make sense on their own, but the eBook edition will provide plenty of bonus material. I expect to finish it by the end of 2012.
Just Shopping
I awoke to a nasty shaft of sunlight slashing across both of my eyes through a crack in the blinds. Letting out a groan, I turned my head away and opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. My first thought was to find my dentures and glasses, but then I realized I was seeing so clearly that I must’ve been wearing them. But when I sat up, the smooth response of my joints and muscles reminded me that I wasn’t occupying the same broken-down husk of a body anymore.
The bedside table’s clock told me that it was 10am, and my stomach was growling already. But my first stop would be the bathroom, where my new body’s first shower awaited.
For the first time in over 40 years, I could look down and see smooth, unwrinkled skin. And since I’ve always done my best thinking in the shower, I luxuriated in the warm water while I planned my next move. The aliens who created me would’ve probably preferred that I just walk out the front door naked and start screwing, but I wanted a semblance of a normal life in my off hours. The first step towards that goal was going to be the acquisition of normal clothes; next I’d buy a used car with cash, and lastly I’d try to establish a legitimate-looking cover identity.
After toweling myself off, I put on the same clothes I’d worn last night, pocketed my cash, and left. The night clerk had been pretty clear that he considered the deposit I’d left with him in lieu of ID to be a tip, so I didn’t bother checking out.
My attention was suddenly drawn to the hiss of brakes as a bus pulled up outside of the hotel. Its display indicated that its next stop was a local mall, so I decided to take it.
As I took a seat, I noticed that there were some very attractive young ladies on the bus. I had to fight back the instincts which told me to go strike up a conversation, because I knew where that would lead. While it would still get me out of my current clothes, it wouldn’t make any progress towards a semi-legitimate identity.
Two girls in particular, though, made it really hard to stay focused. They were checking out my reflection in the window, and I smiled a little as one of them opened her mouth as if to say something, but her friend pulled her back. If I could bottle and sell Progenitor pheromones, no man would ever be lonely again.
The girl who nearly talked to me was a pale-skinned brunette with green eyes and a perky set of early-20s breasts, barely restrained by a yellow cross-hatched string bikini top. Her bottoms were a pretty modest pair of dark shorts, which were nearly unnoticeable given that her bare, slender waist was much more interesting to look at. Her friend was about the same age, and of Indian descent. Her skin was on the darker side, and her muscles were toned and athletic. She wore a set of contour-hugging electric blue spandex shorts, and her ample bosom had been crammed into a plunging sports bra with a deep scoop in the front to reveal truly exquisite cleavage. Her attire was a little more modest than her friend’s, but not by much.
Just when I was about to break down and start talking to them, the bus pulled up next to the mall. It was for the best, I told myself: I really did need to get situated before resuming my mission to spread my genes to the world.
Stepping into a mall for the first time in 30 years was a shock for me. The last time I’d gone to one, food courts weren’t a standard fixture yet, and I didn’t recognize most of the stores’ names. Nevertheless, I was able to find my way to a familiar big anchor store, where I sought out the men’s wear department before realizing that I had no clue what my new body’s measurements were.
The nearest sales associate was a cute female in her mid-20s. I walked up to her, and she greeted me with a broad smile that made her gray eyes sparkle. She was a bottle-blonde with darker undertones, around 5’6″ tall, with a smile that could light up a room. Her eyes were probably colored by contact lenses, but I didn’t care. “I’ll be happy to take your measurements, sir,” she said. While I had no doubt that she was used to plenty of male attention, speaking to me made her nervous and jittery. I probably had my pheromones to thank for that.
She blushed and added, “I’ll just have to take you somewhere private first.”
I inwardly sighed – there could be no denying my urges at this point, and I was probably going to incite a riot at the mall today. I smiled and said, “I imagine that a fitting room would be private enough?”
She blushed and stammered out, “Why, yes. The formal wear room would be perfect.”
I smirked a little and said. “Lead the way.”
I followed her, catching a glimpse of a huge grin on her face as she turned away from me. She led me out of the men’s department and right next to the women’s, to the formal wear fitting room between the two. The room itself was large and triangular. The far corner was a mirror booth, and there were cloth-covered benches lining the walls for people to sit.
“This is for final inspection on wedding parties. It’s the one room I know for sure there’s always measuring tape in”, she said. She coyly added, “It’s also got benches to sit on in case you get tired.”
I shrugged and peeled my polo shirt off over my head. The girl let out a little gasp, and away red-facedly. Her apparent modesty was a ruse though; I caught her looking at me in the mirror immediately as I attacked my swim trunks, pulling them down and off of me. Her eyes widened and she turned her head back to me, staring wantonly at my body.
“I don’t think you’ll need the tape to get these measurements,” I stated.
She stood for a moment, frozen at the conflict between her hormones and the last shreds of her professionalism. I stepped up and kissed her on the lips, effectively demolishing the last of her objections. Her body went rigid for a moment, then she melted against me as if her knees were made of water.
As she began rubbing her leg against me, I glanced down at her name tag and learned that her name was Claire. “Perhaps you should make sure no one else will walk in?” I asked her.