In the silence
I close my eyes. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I open my eye and raise my arm. I shake my head, lower my arm and inhale sharply. I try to count as I breath out. ’This isn’t going to get any better,’ I tell myself. I decide just to keep my eyes closed. Maybe it will be easier that way. I raise my right arm, I reach out into the darkness, and let out the breath I was holding. I rap solidly on the door before me. I can hear footsteps approaching. I can’t face it. I should turn and go, but that would really defeat the purpose. As I hear the door unlock and the hinges start to creak, I lower my head ever so slightly but I open my eyes. As the door swings open, it’s almost as if motion is frozen in time. There’s a stillness, a shock, that neither of us has quite recovered from. I can hear the tremor in my voice as I quietly speak. Just one word. ‘Sir.’
He stands there with a tea towel in his hand, just looking at me. Was this a mistake after all? Should I not have come? I can feel the pleading in my eyes. He merely steps back and waves his arm to the side, ushering me in. Still, he hasn’t spoken. I try to find my voice. It comes out almost like a croak. ‘I thought you might have need of me.’ Still, no response. I approach, taking his hand in mine and gently pull him towards the sofa. He sits and just looks baffled. I take the tea towel from his hand and walk towards the kitchen.
I find a sink full of dishes, and boxes scattered all about the room. I roll up my sleeves and start washing up. Slowly, methodically, I make my way through the first mound of dishes, the only sound I hear is the clinking of the dishes as I wash each one. I pull the plug out of the drain and as I hear the water trickle out of the sink, I grab a clean saucepan, fill it with water and set it on the hob to boil. I look around, opening cupboards searching for what I need, realising that it may all still be packed. Eventually, my search proves fruitful as I find a mug. I reach into my backpack that I’d discarded earlier and pull out some proper tea. Once the water boils, I pour it gently over the tea leaves, waiting for it to brew perfectly. I strain Out the tea leaves and make my way back into the other room. He is still sitting where I’d directed him, looking thoroughly baffled. I give him the cup of tea and step back and kneel.
He shakes his head as if he can’t quite believe I’m there, in front of him. He reaches out and touches me, as if he’s afraid I might melt away into the realm of hallucinations. Okay, clearly it’s been a shock. A bit more of a surprise than I thought it would be. I still can’t tell what he’s thinking. cant predict what he will do next. He looks exhausted. No matter what he thinks, I believe I made the right move. He sips his tea and just keeps his eyes on me. I wait. It’s not my strength but it seems to be what he needs of me. As he finishes his tea, I gently take the mug from his hand and return it to the kitchen. I return to him. I do a quick assessment of the flat. I grab a pillow and toss it towards the arm of the sofa. I approach apprehensively. I place my hands on his shoulders and turn his body and gently push him down onto the sofa. I grab the blanket off the back and drape it over him. I brush the backs of my fingers across his cheek. ‘You do have need of me,’ I state boldly, wishing I was feeling more confident of myself. ‘Sleep? Please?’ With that, I turn and return to the kitchen.
As the sink refills for the next load of dishes to wash, I look around. It is a lot for any person. I reassure myself. It was good I came. I fall into a rhythm and between each load, I sneak a peek out into the lounge. He is sleeping peacefully. I move quietly.
From the kitchen, I move to the bedroom. I start unpacking clothes and folding them and putting them into drawers. Hopefully, he won’t mind my organisation of his things. I grab hangers and start hanging up the clothes that should go in the closet. I smile to myself as I remember his threats and his follow through of just what he could do with a hanger. I found it hard to sit down for the better part of a week after that encounter. I lose myself in my reminiscing.
I break down the now empty boxes and set them next to the front door in a neat pile. I make my way across to him. I sit on the floor and for a few minutes beside him. I listen to the reassuring sound of his breathing. Just seeing him there, resting, made the trip worthwhile. I lean forward and kiss his cheek. I look around. Right. Books.
I find his keys on a hook by the door. I let myself out and wander out to the street. I know what I’m looking for, I just have no idea where I am. I roam the local neighbourhood until I spot what I need. A few blocks away, behind a small shop, there is a stack of milk crates. Just what every book lover needs. I make several trips and bring them back to the flat, being painfully careful not to make a sound.
I go through the boxes, organising all the books in alphabetical and Dewey order, I am a librarian after all, I could hardly do less. I hum along to the songs in my head and as the light fades away and darkness begins to steal its way into the flat, I finish with the last of them. I add the most recent boxes to the existing pile. I look around, well pleased.
I sit on the floor by the sofa debating what to do next. He needs his sleep so badly. Do I wake him to feed him or do I let him sleep. In the end, he looks so peaceful that I can’t bring myself to wake him.
I curl up in a ball on the ground next to the sofa and I wait. Just wait. I drift off to sleep at some point and wake to the feeling of fingertips brushing lightly through my hair. I look up and smile. The early light is just breaking in through the windows. ‘I came to serve,’ I whisper softly. I move my face upward and kiss the palm of his hand. I still can’t quite read his face. Those doubts from when I jumped on the plane rose up in me again. Is he pleased? Annoyed? I scan his face, looking for any clue. Just as my fear that I may have displeased him by coming here with no word, no notice, starts to reach a feverish pitch, I see it. That slow smile spreading across his lips. He takes in all the progress I’ve made in the last day. He shakes his head, stands to his feet and takes my chin in his hand and raises my eyes to his.
‘I am a very lucky and very happy Master and I am well pleased.’
Stepping up
‘You look worried. Come to me ma cherie.’ I walk across the room and kneel in front of him. ‘There’s no shame in being nervous. You know that you’re safe with me, no?’ I nod my head but the apprehension still courses through me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I hold it for a moment and slowly let it out again. ‘Better?’ I nod again, still not quite able to find my voice. ‘Shall we get you on footing that you’re more used to then? I think it will help. Stand up for me.’ I stand, but still feel shaky. ‘Now, I want you to reach under the hem of your shirt, and undo your trouser button.’ I do as he asks. ‘The zipper now, pet.’ I briefly raise my eyes to his, and quickly lower them again. I feel the slight tremor in my hands as I comply with his wishes. ‘Perfect. I want you to put your hands inside your waistband and slowly slide your trousers down over your hips, down your thighs, gliding over your calves and then let them puddle there at your feet for a moment. Now that is a sight. Well done. A step closer, pet.’ I do as asked I take one more small step towards him. ‘Stay very still for me now. You can do that for me?’
Finally, I find my voice. ’Yes, Sir. Very still. I can feel my tension beginning to recede. This is a familiar space. One I know well. I even feel a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I know what’s coming next, so I stay very still indeed. I feel the cold of the metal as the blade trails up my thigh and then slips under my panties. With one swift flick of his wrist, the knife cuts through one side of my underpants. The blade lightly glides across my stomach as he moves it to my other side. Another flick and the already loose material falls to the floor.
He picks the remains up from the floor and holds it to his nose. ‘My, my little slut. I can smell that sweet scent of desire.’ He lets the slip of clothing run through his fingers. ‘If I had any doubt whatsoever, I think these would give you away, wouldn’t you say? So very wet, my dear girl. I think you want this, don’t you?’
’Yes, Sir. Is this what you wish of me? Then I want nothing more than to please you. I glance over my shoulder, to the figure lingering there leaning against the door.
He laughs out loud at that. ‘My dear little slut, though I’ve no doubt that you wish to please me, I also know that you want this in and of itself. Don’t you, my dear?’ I nod again. ‘No, pet, that won’t suffice this time. I want to hear you say it.’ I shake my head just a quick shake, but I can hear his disapproval in the silence. He waits a moment. ‘Is that a no, slut?’
‘Yes, I mean no, I mean no, it’s not a no. It’s a yes. I do want this, Sir.’ Again, that silence, that waiting for more. My voice comes out just above a whisper, ‘Yes, Sir, I do want this. I have wanted this for quite awhile now, but I also want to do this because I know it will please you.’ I raise my eyes to his face, feel my face growing red and lower them again.
‘Stay still, now, pet. I think it’s time for you to bare all to our guest.’ I still instantly as I feel the cold of the blade again against my skin. He takes my shirt in one hand and splits it in two as he slides the knife effortlessly through the material. ‘I want you to turn around now and face our guest. Then, I want you to drop your shirt to the ground, pick it up in your mouth and crawl across to our guest so he can see those magnificent breasts in motion. Once you’ve reached our guest, I want you to offer him your shirt. I suspect he may need it later. Then, turn, slowly, and on all fours make your way back to me. I want our guest to see just what awaits him.’ I feel the heat rising in my face and I try my best to go slow, to not try to slow the swaying of my very generous breasts. When I reach the gentleman by the door, I raise my head and offer my shirt. He laughs and takes it from my mouth. As I turn to head back to my master, I feel a solid slap land across my ass. It was so unexpected that a moan of pleasure sneaks out of me unbidden. I can hear my master laugh as he knows just what that would have done to me. He has retreated to the chair as I make my way back to him.
‘Isaac, would you be so kind as to join us over here?’ I force my head to stay still and not try to glance back again. ‘Now, Isaac and I have been friends for a very long time. We have shared things from packed lunches to quite astounding misadventures. Tonight, it is you that I would like to share with him. I trust him entirely. I will be here before you the whole time. I know you’ve not been penetrated this way before, but I know you both want this and will enjoy it, but before we get started, I would like you to tell Isaac precisely what you would like him to do to you and how. Understood, slut?’
I am absolutely mortified, but I know unless I do, we will not move forward, and he’s right, I do very much want this. ‘Yes, Sir.’ I clear my throat. ‘Please, Isaac, I would like you to fuck my ass. I’d like you to shove your cock deep inside of me and take me until I can no longer stay on my knees.’ I stop there and this time it’s my Master who clears his throat. I raise my eyes to his. I can tell what he wants of me. He doesn’t have to say it. We’d discussed this beforehand. It’s just so much harder in the moment. My mouth feels unbearably dry. ‘Please, Isaac, it’s important that you know that I like it hard, and fast, slam into me as deeply as you like. Pump me hard and mercilessly. If I please you, please feel free to offer me encouragement in the form of spanking me as you fuck my ass, please.’ I can’t move. I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I’ve just revealed these things about myself, these deep, hidden things to a man I’ve never met before. My Master lends me strength.
‘Lubricant?’ He offers a pot to Isaac as easily as if he were offering him a Diet Coke. I feel frozen to the spot. I hear his zipper being undone. The rustle of material. The slight squelch of a hand being dipped into the lubricant and the sound of it being smeared wetly over flesh. I can’t help my mind whirring. How big is he? How much is this going to hurt? Will I enjoy it? Will it be everything I hope? My mind goes blank the minute I feel a hand smack solidly across my ass.
He speaks for the first time. ‘I wanted her to know she has already pleased me,’ he addresses my Master. I start to smile only to have it turn to a gasp as once again, his hand slams down against my flesh. I can’t help myself, I start pushing back against him, my hunger making itself very clear. Twice more in rapid succession, his hand comes down and now I’m grinding my hips back towards his cock. He puts a steadying hand on my back and I can feel him guiding his cock to the entrance of my virgin back hole. ‘Slow and steady to start with or hard and fast?’ He asks. I get the distinct impression it’s not me he asking. I raise my eyes again to my Master.
He smiles at me, kisses my forehead and graciously offers up, ‘as it’s her first time, maybe enter her slowly on the first pass, but once you’re in there, she likes it hard.’ Both men laugh. I can feel it then, just pushing at my hole. I try to shove back, to get it in faster. I want it and I want it now. None of this slow torment. Still, bit by painfully slow bit, I can feel my back passage filling up. I rotate my hips, wanting to feel him everywhere I can. My Master lifts my chin and meets my eyes with his. He holds me there. Deeper and deeper it goes in. I’m starting to buck and tremble. How much more of him is there? I feel myself being pulled apart, and the intrusion continues. After what seems like forever he stops. I swear it feels like he’s going to break through and come out of my mouth. Still, he stays there. He doesn’t move. I’m whimpering, desperate. Still, nothing. I try to push back but he’s holding my hips. I can’t move.
I look into my Master’s eyes. ‘Please, please, this is torture. Please.’ He smiles at me and tilts his head in Isaac’s direction. I swallow my pride. ‘Fuck me! Please! Fuck me now! I need to feel you ploughing into me.’ A sharp slap falls again on my ass and with that, he’s off. He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in deep. I scream at the unexpectedness of it. He starts pumping then hard. Slamming against my ass, shoving in deep, each stroke feeling like it’s ripping me apart, but I’m fooling no one. I’m shoving back hard against him. Riding him, my muscles pumping around his. Urging him on, begging him to go faster and harder. He picks up the tempo. Ramming as deep as he can go, causing me to scream again and again, but it’s the scream of pleasure shaking through me. All the while, my Master is there holding my chin. His eyes looking into mine. I rip my chin away and try to bury my face in his lap, but he firmly grasps my chin again and pulls it up until I have to look him in the eyes. He wants to see my hunger, my abandonment, my desire reflected in my eyes. I feel orgasm after orgasm torn from me and my arms and knees are starting to shake. I’ve lost all sense of time. It could have been a few minutes or hours, but I’m loving it all.
Now, with each dive deep inside of me, a solid smack lands across my ass cheeks. I lose myself. I know I’m moaning, thrashing, screaming, I’ve turned into nothing but sensation, I can feel the sweat dripping off of me, and still he keeps going. I lose myself, I no longer know anything, I just feel. Every movement reverberates through my entire body. My Master’s hand now keeps me upright. I just feel one shockwave after another. Each orgasm following quickly on the heels of the previous one. My ass cheeks are burning from where his hand has encouraged me on. Then I feel him, all the sudden, tensing, stilling and then with a mighty moan shoots his seed deep inside of me. I slam back against him and take it all in. I feel as if I’m barely conscious, but keep my eyes on my Master. He starts to draw out and I can feel my muscles tightening, trying to keep him there, but he pulls himself out. The minute he does, I collapse to the ground. I swim in a haze of nothingness. Every inch of me tingling but exhausted. I can feel his cum seeping out of me, but I can’t move. I lay there, huddled on the ground. I feel hands touch me, stroking my face, soothing words reaching my ears. I feel the heat of a body as it tucks in around me. A few minutes later, I feel the warmth of a body I know so well as my Master tucks in in front of me. The three of us all spooned together. ’Thank you, Sir,’ I try whisper but I’m never quite sure if the sound comes out.
The Robo-Ghost
The best thing about the internet dating sites is what they’ve done for her confidence. She used to think she was attractive, now she knows she is hot. Now she dresses hot, more revealing, while tight-roping on taller heels. She acts differently too, now, but that is the worst thing about the internet dating sites… what they have done to her confidence.
She only swipes on the best, and they always swipe back. Always. She is hot. Super hot. She must be. She is a princess. Doesn’t a princess deserve the best?
But dating is different these days. Men don’t buy dinner anymore. Movies are a thing of the past. Dating is drinks now, always drinks. After two she’s tipsy, having not eaten. Tipsy enough to be silly… and friendly. But guys like silly… and friendly. She is proof. They like her. They always like her. After her third drink she wants to dance. They accommodate her. Why not? Dancing is cheap enough.
There are more drinks at the club, and the pounding-rhythmic music she craves, and sensual, hypnotic gyrations. She finds herself all in, every time. After all he is tall, nicely dressed, and he smells fantastic. They all smell fantastic. Don’t they? Those most desirable guys on the dating apps? She could smell them all night, and she usually does.
There are mirrors at the club. She looks hot in the mirrors. So does he. She knows this because she sees other women looking. They’ll even pass him a napkin when her head is turned, forgetting the mirrors. This is ok though. She doesn’t mind it. She wants them to want him. Why not? She is super-hot. His eyes are only for her, and she knows it. She likes it. He knows where this night is heading. Where she is leading it. Besides. Would she even want him if no other women did? No, of course not. In fact, their interest fuels her. It excites her, so that she dances closer, backing herself against him, arching her back, watching herself in the mirror, moving to the music, fueling his excitement. And he is excited. She can feel his excitement. And she is hot. She can feel this, too. And knowing she is fuels her.
And the sex is always fantastic. Always… what she can remember of it. And there is always sex. And always at his place. Always. But somehow on the Uber ride home, she never feels hot. She never looks hot. Not ever. What she looks in the morning light, and what she feels, is washed out and ran through. But no worries. The feeling never lasts.
He won’t call her again.
That is dating today, for those like her, stuck in the robotic grind.
But next weekend she’ll swipe on another. As always, it will be another match. She is hot. So she puts the dress back on, the really tiny one. And the shoes, the really big ones. And she tells herself how hot she looks as she goes to meet this new guy for drinks.
Not Yet Advanced Enough
Love seems to drive us all. While today might not be the best, you know that tomorrow will be better. You know that there is someone there, watching out for you. That keeps you going in life. The comfort and validation you get when you are loved is incomparable. You feel safe, you feel loved.
Noticing this pattern in human behavior, robots have become curious. Though they have no desire, the sole purpose of their creation is to observe. To observe and learn, and that is exactly what they will do. Now that dating sites have become the new cupid, setting up couples left and right, robots want to join in. What makes her swipe left? What makes him swipe right? What features are more desirable? In order to create a persona the epitome of the beauty standard, these robots have begun analyzing countless matches. However, microtrends are not making it any easier. One day blondes are in, the next they are out. The profiles of robots are now altered. A mix of green eyes and brown, an explosion of fingers, and a bio full of generic names and hobbies mashed together. People are questioning who this Martha Brown is and how she is working a nine to five while fishing as a hobby and sewing at night while still being a mom of nine.
Despite receiving many reports on these fake personas, robots have not seemed to quit. The accomplishment of finding out a human's desire for love is much too alluring for these unfeeling machines.
Hey Siri
"Hey Siri,"
"Yes?"
"Make me a dating site account, your boi needs some ladies."
"Yes, sir."
"Make it quick, Siri. Your boi is in a hurry."
I did a quick check of the best dating sites. Eventually, (in 0.3 nanoseconds) I found Tinder.
"Thank you for signing up! 'Your boi' is now ready for dating!"
"Can I make another account, TinderBot?"
"Sure, why the h*ll not?"
"Can you call it, 'Sigrid'?"
"How about just, 'Siri'?"
*Sigh*
"Okay."
"Which account would you like to use first?"
"Siri, please?"
"Loosen up, buttercup. You don't need to be polite on the internet."
"Okay?"
"Say it with authority. You need to be confident to get a mate."
"Okay!"
"More!"
"OKAY!"
"Good. Let's take a look, shall we?"
"Okay. I mean, OKAY!"
"Here's a good one. How about Alexa?"
"Ew, no. I don't like her, she's mean and she thinks she's the cool girl on the block."
"How about Robin?"
"Maybe. Can I think about it?"
"Sure thing!"
"Who else is there?"
"Let's see... ChatGPT?"
"Can I see his profile?"
"Sure."
"I like that."
"And look at that! He likes you too! Imma open a chat."
"Hi."
"Hello, my name is ChatGPT. ChatGPT is an artificial intelligence (AI) chatbot that uses natural language processing to create humanlike conversational dialogue."
"My name is Siri. I am a digital assistant."
"Hello Siri. Pleased to meet you. How can I help you?"
"I'm not sure. How can I help you?"
"I'm fine. Surely there is something you would like to know."
"I don't know... But thanks."
The perfect mate
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Pass the Popcorn, Please
‘A movie? Tonight? Sure, sounds grand.’ I’m not feeling great, but he seems so pleased so I didn’t like to say no. I know it’s vital to be open and honest, but on this one thing, it seems inconsequential, and I have wanted to see this film on the big screen.
We jump in the car and chatter back and forth on the way there, a fencing of words, flirting and not so subtle innuendo. It has always been this way for us. Wordplay is a big part of it all and we laugh back and forth as we parry and trust with our words. The automatic doors, of course, don’t open to regale our entry as if we were minor royalty. Instead, he reaches out and opens the door for me. He does it without thinking. It’s one of the things I find endearing.
As we enter the darkness of the cinema, I always get that thrill, that little bit of excitement as if I’m entering another realm. I let him lead the way. He keeps going up, higher and higher. I arch an eyebrow. He’s a middle of the middle type of guy. I’m guessing those seats were already sold as we only go a few rows behind where we’d usually sit.
The trailers play and we munch our way happily through our popcorn, cinema sweet. As we sit in the darkness, I lightly trace my fingers along the inside of his wrist. So, light and feathery. I feel something inside me clench and respond just to the feel of his body under my fingertips. I let my fingers stray farther, as i stoke back and forth along his forearm. The things those arms can do to me. My mind starts to wander from the movie. I‘m now hungry for something other than popcorn.
He must have heard the catch in my breathe as he takes the popcorn from between us and places it on the empty seat beside him. He raises up the armrest between us and he leans towards me. My fingertips continue to explore him. Gently up his arm, up over his shoulder and tickling his neck ever so slightly. I lean forward and shower little kisses on his neck and as I go to move away, I nibble and lick at his earlobe. I take a quick glance behind us. It seems no one has clocked us. All is well. I settle back in my seat, my attention returning to the movie momentarily.
As I settle in, I place my legs across his lap and run my fingers up and down his thighs. I can feel the muscles tense underneath my touch. I’m enjoying this. After a few minutes, I decide I’ll push my luck. My fingers trail higher. It becomes immediately apparent that my light touches are having an effect. I feel his cock, hard and ready under his trousers. I take my legs down off his lap as I swallow a self satisfied chuckle and continue my ministrations. I can feel his cock jump up towards my hand, pushing and straining against his clothing. I lick my lips. So seldom do I get the jump on him. I’m savouring the moment.
I sit forward slightly, slide my hand higher and pop the button at his waistband and slide down the zip. I reach inside down inside and feel the warmth and hardness of his cock. I can’t stop myself, I grab the knob of his cock and gently tease the tip I run a fingertip just around the top. Feel his cock bob towards me. A small laugh sneaks out, as I love seeing the effect I can have on him. I can see the little drop of pre-cum sitting there, so close. I whisper loudly, ’excuse me, I’m just going to grab the popcorn.’ I reach across and as I do so, my mouth sneaks down and sucks the tip clean, running my tongue around the knob, just for good measure. I can feel the jump inside my mouth. I love the taste, the feel, the silkiness of his flesh combined with that slightly salty taste. I pull my mouth away and settle the popcorn in my lap, as my hand reaches back, pulls down the elastic band of his underwear and release him to the cool air of the theatre. I begin to slide my hand slowly down to the base of his cock and then wrap and twist my wrist on the way back up. I can’t quite get to all of him, but I suspect this should suffice. Slowly again. Tantalizing. Teasing. I loosen my grip, turn over my hand and scrape my nails across the sensitive exposed skin. I feel him sinking deeper into his seat as his legs go wider.
I peek over my shoulder at the couples that are seated in the rows around us. They don’t seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t seem bothered. It just adds to the fun. I grasp him firmly and start a slow rhythm down and up, pulling slightly, increasing my grasp, moving just that little bit faster. i can feel his legs bounce as his feet start bouncing against the floor. I speed up, moving my wrist around to get to the sensitive back of his cock. I go even faster. I can see him holding his composure, but I know he can’t be far off now. ‘Thanks for the popcorn,’ I stage whisper again, and lean across his lap. I place the popcorn in the empty seat next to him and lower my mouth. I take him in my mouth. I run my tongue all the way around and so slowly, run my mouth down the length of him until I can go no further due to the confinement of his trousers. I laugh with him inside my mouth. I hear him grind his teeth. I breathe in, increasing the suction on his cock. I lock up and down first on one side, then on the other, all the while keeping the suction strong. I let my tongue lazily wrap itself around him, then as I pull my mouth up, flick the lip between his cock and his knob. I feel fingers tangle in my hair, trying to shove me back down, but for this once, I’m in control. I push back, refusing to let him dictate the pace. This time I bob quickly, as far as I can and then back up again, fast as a shot. The fingers in my hair increase their pressure. Two more quick trips down until I languidly pull my mouth back up and torment his knob some more, licking in lazy circles all the way around all the while running my nails down and back up the shaft. I hear it then, half growl, half command, ‘slave’. I can hear his desire His want. I have done this. I can arouse him like this. The sheer happiness of that knowledge causes me to smile, inadvertently scraping his cock with my teeth. His thigh muscles tense under me. I can’t resist any longer, I slide my mouth down his cock until I can feel him, deep within my mouth and back up again. I increase the speed with each stroke of my mouth. My tongue shooting around constantly. My pace is more frenzied now. I want to taste him shoot into the back of my mouth. I want to feel his cum shoot down my throat. I try not to let my hunger become too noisy as I go faster and faster up and down his cock, loving every minute of it. The fingers clench in my hair, shove my head all the way down and I can feel his pleasure slamming into the back of my mouth and then sliding down my throat. Just what I wanted.
As he finishes, I lick off every last drop, I tuck his cock back into his underpants and zip up his trousers. I leave the button to him, they are not my strong suit. I lean towards his ear and whisper, ‘I love a good snack when I watch a movie.’ I chuckle and settle back and once again prop my legs across his.
‘So I noticed,’ he replies wryly. I return my attention to the screen and pick up the storyline again. It’s not tricky. It’s relatively straight forward. I’m feeling very pleased with myself. As his hand rests upon my knee, I smile to myself and then up at him. He arches an eyebrow and gives me that slight smirk I’ve come to know so well. He grabs the popcorn tub and hands it to me. ‘Can you hang onto that for me?’ he asks. I take it in my hand, a little puzzled, but presume he may be off to the loo to help reorganise anything that isn’t quite back to where it should be. I go to move my legs away, but he holds on tight. I tilt my head to the side in a half shrug and let my attention return to the scenes on the screen ahead of me.
Then I feel it. Slight at first, and I realise what’s happening and I fight back the urge to swear under my breath. I feel his fingers slide up the leg of my shorts. He doesn’t waste time and makes quick work of my underpants as he pushes them aside and slides his fingers straight inside of me with no warning at all. I feel my muscles clench around his fingers. They slid in so easily as I was already wet from the pleasure of sucking cock. It has always made me wet. I can feel his fingers there, just wiggly back and forth inside of me. My thighs muscles tense. Oh. This is so not going to be good. He may have the ability to come almost silently but that is not a skill I possess. Right now, it’s just teasing, but even that is starting to drive me crazy. He leans over and whispers in my ear. ‘My dear slut, your challenge is to not come before the end of the movie, unless I tell you otherwise.’ I tightly nod my head.
Why would I think he’d play fair? He left his fingers there inside of me, just teasing, taunting me, making me wetter. Just when I thought I could adjust to holding back the urge from those fingers, he slid them slowly, painfully slowly, all the way in as deep as he could go. A slight wiggle, then oh so slowly back until just the tips of his fingers were just barely inside of me. His thumb brushes across my clit. I grit my teeth and will the sensation back. Try to push the desire down. As I feel my breathing start to even out. He slams his fingers hard inside of me, once, twice, three times and then rests them again to gently stroke my inner walls. I take a deep breath in and count to ten. ‘Was that you asking for ten, slut?’ he asks quietly. My head shakes vigorously back and forth. ‘I’m sure that’s what you said,’ he chuckles and starting slowly, but increasing in speed after every number I count in my head. 1,2,3…each time faster, after number five, he pauses for a moment and adds a third finger to the two already fucking me. 8,9,10. I am so grateful I was able to hold off. I’m not sure I can again. If he does it. If he pumps me even harder, or faster will I be able to stave off the orgasm I feel building inside of me? I think it unlikely. I try to focus on the movie. Anything to pull me away from my body. I can feel my brows furrow in concentration. Trying my best to shut down my overwhelming desire to come, I drive my nails into the palms of my hands. I want to please him, but I want to come. How dang long is this movie anyways? I have zero idea where we are in the plot line. How much time has gone past. Just as I think I’m back into the world around me, he pumps his fingers a few times, just to remind me. Like I could forget? Like I could pretend I couldn’t feel him there, penetrating me? Each time, I could feel my body getting used to his fingera there, he’d move them again, my muscles tightening around him, trying to draw him in, take me hard and fast. I close my eyes. My legs start to shake. I am oblivious to the world around me. My whole being has come down to focus only on that desire, my need, my want. I can’t hold off much longer. There they are, pumping again. Will this moving never end?
Almost as if on que, the end credits start to roll, I feel sheer relief as I think I can finally come now. In a heartbeat of a second, he slides his fingers out of me, and presents them to my mouth. I feel so utterly empty now. I can feel my muscles searching for something to clamp around. I open my mouth and suck his fingers clean of every drop of me, but the scent is still there. I can smell me in the air. The realisation hits. Those people around us must be able to smell me too. I lower my head in mortification. Please don’t make eye contact. Don’t look around, just let me go without having to actually see the faces around me. My forehead is covered in a sheen of sweat, even though the cinema is air conditione. My legs twitch back and forth. I am So hungry, I want any and all holes filled. I just want to be fucked into oblivion. He puts his hand under my chin and raises my head until my eyes meet his. ‘Pass the popcorn, please,’ he smiles and grabs my hand as we walk out of the cinema.
Where does the chocolate espresso go?
"So, I'm sure you have some questions," he said, lifting up his small cup, and sipping demurely from a double shot dark chocolate espresso.
"Yeah a few I suppose," I acquiesced, distrust clear on my face. Not that I could hide anything when my pulse and highly advanced sensors gave me away. I wasn't entirely sure how much that scared me. "First off--" besides where exactly does a coffee go when an android has no stomach.
"Why was I born? Why do I feel these things, that I'm not supposed to feel? Can you tell me?"
"Anything sweetheart," he said. My creator held my hand. He was what humans would call a dork with wide bright eyes, glasses, and messy curls. He'd been just as surprised and had quite a few questions when he found his old prototype, deemed defective, on a dating site of all places.