The Future of Sex: Chapter Three

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FOS 1 OptimizedLogan had never seen anything like it.

He’d seen Chloe Shaw’s submitted resume, had read her vitals, had frowned significantly at the fact that some 20-year-old glass table girl thought she was qualified to land a top slot in one of O’s elite vacation spas. She hadn’t even been fucking for two years, and had the audacity to take advantage of the legacy agreement, riding on her mother’s shoulders? Her mother, who, by the way, had known her place and had never applied for such a position?

But in flagrant defiance of his initial misgivings, Miss Shaw had enchanted him from the get-go. The minute he’d entered the room and saw her sitting on the Rocker, waiting, he’d taken in her long, dark hair and medium-sized frame, her lean, flat stomach and beautiful tits. She’d kept her appearance plain rather than diving into the over-the-top look that so many insecure new girls embraced, and she’d hidden just enough of her smooth, tan body to leave him wanting. She was, apparently, all natural. She looked it, too. Specifically, she looked like girls he’d known back from his teen years. That was the thing about the world’s Chloes: every man had once known — and masturbated while thinking about — someone like her.

Everything she’d done from that first moment was like reading his mind. She knew what he wanted before he knew he wanted it. She made his cock rise even as he tried to remain objective. She was demure in the throes of passion and strong when upright. It was as if she was too good for him, which made it that much hotter when she wanted him … when, in fact, she needed him. He’d felt fortunate to give her the orgasm that had caused her to scream through the testing chamber’s walls. And right now, he wanted her more than he may ever have wanted anyone.

But there was something else about Chloe Shaw, and it amazed him so much that it was almost troubling. She hadn’t seen a Rocker before. Nobody had. The devices were in the prototype stage, and the only people who even knew they existed were O’s top brass and the eggheads who’d invented them. Ever since the Six had tasked Logan and the other testers with finding them a perfect protege, testing was done on a Rocker. Even the best girls — those who were, in the end, accepted for jobs in the spas — laid on the things as if they were simple furniture. A few had pressed the buttons, but if you weren’t positioned right, an intelligent device like the Rocker wouldn’t respond. But not Chloe. Chloe had not only summoned the proboscis and used it properly, she’d done it as if it were nothing, as if she’d been using a Rocker all her life. She’d known exactly where the external nano spray would be and how to use both the internals and externals to establish body harmonics. And when she’d come, she’d known where to grip as if fully aware that the Rocker would give her handholds, that it would apply pressure to the nerve clusters in her hands to heighten her release.

Yes, Chloe Shaw was quite the interesting candidate.

Twenty or not, inexperienced or not, Logan wanted her. He wanted her well beyond his job requirement as a tester. After the proboscis retracted and she lay spent on the Rocker, her pussy slightly open and running with white lubricant, Chloe looked up at him with her blue-green eyes in a way that suggested that now, after the preliminary play had all been established, she was willing to be helpless beneath him. And Logan, who liked a girl to push back at first, felt himself ready to take her. Her look was aroused and pleading at once. She was in the desert and he had water, simple as that.

“Now you can fuck me,” she said.

“You want me to fuck you.”

Her eyes still on his, she said, “I need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s balls hugged up against him. His cock was a slab of stone, tip dripping. He moved to unzip but she pushed his hand away, freeing his shaft. Her hands were on it, stroking it with a feeling like thrusting through silk.

“Put it in me,” she said.

Chloe Shaw was all his. She was floppy and spent, looking down at him as he rubbed the tip of his dick against her hole. The sheer amount of juice in and on her was intense; he swabbed a handful away and wiped it on his pants leg. Then he pushed his pants the rest of the way down, fought off his suddenly-stubborn shirt, and re-straddled her naked body as she lay back on the Rocker.

“How bad do you need it?”

“Oh God, I need it,” she said, almost begging.

He slipped his tip in. She gasped.

“Tell me you want it all.”

“I want it all.” It was almost a whisper, her eyes never leaving his. Her chest heaved, perfect tits full with nipples erect.

He slid his cock into her pussy up to the hilt. She was unbelievably tight. He looked down at her face again, breathing her in. He looked down, watching himself glide in and out. It wasn’t about the mechanics. It was about the mind. That’s what O understood that no one else did. It didn’t matter how well you got fucked from the waist down, because ultimately parts were parts. All of the good stuff happened in the head, in how you saw what you were doing, and what it meant.

Chloe’s short-nailed fingers ran through his hair. He moaned as pressure built in his balls and fingers caressed his scalp, then he realized that she wasn’t just petting him. Chloe found the sensors, and had placed one near his temple, exactly where it was supposed to go.

“What is this?” he said, thrusting, knowing exactly what it was. Below him, the Rocker was starting to roll and gyrate. Chloe was breathing heavily, her pussy and stomach muscles clenching as he filled her. She reached up on her own head and set a sensor on herself.

“I don’t know,” she said between thrusts.

“What will it do to us?”

“I don’t know.” She pushed one of the intuitive controls with her fingers — the controls that weren’t buttons but biofeedback sensors that a casual user wouldn’t know was there.

Immediately, Logan’s cock felt fuller and thicker. He needed to ejaculate as if it were a biological necessity, but the orgasm wasn’t coming. It continued to build as the neural augmentation outputs did their job, stimulating his brain’s pleasure centers. Below him, Chloe’s sexy body and face writhed as hers activated. She gasped, then reached around his body and pulled him close, mashing them together and grinding her hips against him.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

Logan had never used the stimulators. His job was mostly screening applicants, and no other applicant had ever had any idea that the Rocker wasn’t just a piece of uncomfortable furniture. Now, as the small device lit up his neurons from end to end, hot wiring his brain like a 20th century automobile, the feeling was almost unbearable. Almost. It was like having an itch that you couldn’t scratch … except that Logan knew he could scratch it if he kept going, and that the resulting orgasm would nearly cripple him. In a good way.

Chloe breathed more heavily, then came again. She reached up, clawed Logan’s chest, wiggled and thrashed as the Rocker moved intuitively beneath her. Her juices covered his cock; her pussy gripped his shaft. It was too much. Her tight hole milked him to orgasm and, with a bone-crushing heave, Logan came inside her, filling her so full that his seed spilled out and ran down the Rocker onto the floor. Still she came harder, again and again in one rolling climax. He continued to thrust, the sensor still feeding his brain. And then, impossibly, he came again, feeling his balls jitter as if in surprise until they ran dry.

When he pulled out, his cock felt heavy like a brick. What seemed like a gallon of cum rolled out of Chloe’s hole in waves.

After a moment had passed and it seemed safe, she looked up at him from above her decimated pussy and said, “So. What now?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Nobody has ever gotten this far.”

Continue to Chapter 4 >>

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