Fredrica's ch3 pt3

When you approach the door to the dressing room, you find it already open. You try not to peer inside, instead choosing to knock on the doorframe. Even though the one you’re after doesn’t seem to know the first thing about privacy, old habits of yours die hard. Chica comes right to the door, and looks at you with a grin on her beak. “Yer even sooner than I expected, Mike! Was Bunbuns really boring ya that much?” She backs up and lets you in, then shuts and, interestingly, locks the door behind you. You gulp a little. What if defending Bonnie gets her mad at you? You’ve seen how strong these robots are. She could probably smother you to death in her cleavage alone. Speaking of which, her chest was looking on-point, rather literally given the stiff peaks of her nipples protruding from the thin fabric of her tanktop. You’re pretty sure, given her expression, she knows what you’re staring at.

She leads you over to the couch in the corner, and you take a seat, making sure to avoid the cushion you had seen her and the Mayor on the previous night. “Well, it… It’s about Bonnie actually,” You start. She takes a seat next to you at a bit of an angle to better look at your face.

“What about er?” She replies. She doesn’t seem upset yet, so you continue.

“Well, I noticed that she was pretty busy today and well, I know props aren’t supposed to be her thing-” Her laughing stops you mid-thought.

“Is THAT what this is about? Mike,” She chuckles, her arm getting on your shoulders again, “I gotta let ya know, you see, I absolutely STINK at any of that artsy crafty shit. It’s just not in my programmin. Now, those fans, those are MAMA’S. I only gave em to Bonnie because she’s the best at that we have, and Mama deserves only the best for her equipment, don’t ya agree?” You nod, even though your bullshit-o-meter’s needle is twitching quite a bit. She gets closer, her chest nearly touching yours, “Listen, I know you’re just bein a nice guy and lookin out for er, but Bonnie can fight her own battles. We’ve got a system, an she knows it. We’re all on a ladder, and we all know what rung we’re on, ya see?” You accept her explanation, but it still reeks to you.

“But anyways, since yer here, I wanted to ask ya a few things…” Chica’s legs move, and one of them subtly loops onto one of your own. Her chest is touching you now, and you can’t resist staring, since it’s directly in the middle of your vision. Your hand twitches, thinking about how good it probably feels. You quickly ball your fist, but that doesn’t help to hide the redness on your face or the other things going on in your pants. Her other hand rests on your thigh and she looks at you with a half-lidded gaze.

“I know ol Gary probably didn’t say nothin about it, but I, well, us girls, we have needs sometimes, and well, past fellas in your position liked to take those on, if ya catch my drift,” Even you, as dense as you can be, aren’t lost in the least. “I mean well, ya haven’t had a girlfriend in years so yer probably a lil thristy, right?” You stare at her. How did she know that? Noting the look on your face she stumbles over her words, “W-well, just a lucky guess! Don’t look so hurt, Mikey. I was just sayin, if you ever have any needs…” Her hand slips up your thigh, and rests right on the bulge of your pants. You twitch a little under her palm and she squeezes a little in response.

You’re redder than a tomato and your head is rushing. You think about the pros and cons of this, but your foggy, arousal induced logic is spotty at best. Her beak gets right to your ear and she whispers, “Don’t worry, Bonnie won’t mind, She’s come to me herself quite a few times. It’s a friendly service I offer more than anythin, no strings, I promise.” She pulls her hand from your crotch and crosses her fingers to signify her honesty on the matter. It’s only once her palm is off you that you realize how good it felt.

“So, waddya say, Mikey?” She coos.