The Virtual Man [The Virtual Reality 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (5 page)

Without missing a beat, he repeated the bittersweet torture on her other leg, beginning with her tired and aching foot and making his way up to where her leg met her already very wet sex.

A pragmatic engineer, she had never been overly sexual. How could she be this aroused?
By an artificial intelligence unit no less! Why am I not grossed out? Although others use AI’s for personal gratification, that just isn’t my style. I can’t be this needy!

It wasn’t even a ‘he,’ she kept telling herself. It was rearranged matter instructed to behave in a particular way by thousands of lines of computer code. It had no will, couldn’t think and couldn’t feel. As he, or rather, it reached her most personal of places, it stopped.

Much to her surprise, Tiana heard another little moan, this time one of disappointment, escape her now very dry throat. Her heart was beating fast and her breathing was difficult. She felt him slowly fold the towel so that it just covered the lower half of her ass. As the cool air hit the newly exposed skin, she shivered. Those parts of her skin that were still covered jealously ached for the same freedom.

For what felt like the longest pause of her life, Tiana did not feel his touch.

At last, she felt his hands reconnect with her quivering body . He started with the exposed upper half of the sensuous curves of her bottom, with confidence and assurance massaging his way up her back and sides. He was sure taking his time!

She attributed this to the fact that he was a piece of programming, a virtual man. Had he been flesh and blood he would have selfishly jumped her by now. But damn, he sure looked, felt and smelled like a man!

Tiana felt his hands approach the sides of her breasts. Instinctively, her body having a mind of its own, she lifted her chest slightly off the table, in an effort to give him better access to her now swollen and very sensitive breasts.

“Please turn over,” she heard him say. It was not a question. Her mind stood by helplessly as her body obeyed the command without hesitation.

As she flipped over, her breasts came into his view. She looked down at herself. The little buds of her nipples were standing at attention, surrounded by pink areolas that looked so much darker and flushed than they normally did. Moving her gaze to the Derek’s face, she saw a variety of emotions in it. There was admiration, appreciation, lust and what she would have interpreted in a human expression as an all-out battle to retain control of his emotions.

The towel slid the rest of the way off and onto the floor. The coolness of the room washed across her breasts and lingered between her legs in a powerful wave. He stared at her for a moment before continuing. Resisting the urge to squeeze her legs together, Tiana wondered why the hologram looked like he was having a hard time breathing. That was odd, since it didn’t actually need to breathe.

Too bad he was just compiled code and not a man. What she wouldn’t give to have a real man love her, cherish her and take her right here and now. AI’s were nice, but she had never been able to bring herself to have sex with one of them—they weren’t real. It would be like masturbating with a computer, and that was just too weird for her.

She watched as he positioned himself at the head of the table. Letting her gaze wander down his body, she spied what appeared to be a painfully large, very difficult to hide erection underneath the thigh-length toga. That was odd. She had not requested one. How did he get one? Since when did computer geeks program holographs to react to nudity and sexual situations on their own without the user’s touch or command? In her engineering mind, she tried to think through what kind of sensor equipment would be required for the computer to detect her nudity and alter Derek’s penis to an erect state?
Oh, hell! Who cares?

Not being able to withstand her curiosity any longer, she lifted his toga and, as she looked up from the table, watched his cock spring out and hover just inches above her face. She could actually smell the scent of his manhood. The programming of aromas within holographic chambers was still in its infancy, yet she could smell his masculine musk, and it was driving her wild. But wait — it was even leaking a drop of pre-cum. Without thinking, she reached out with her tongue and licked the drop of his elixir off the tip of his sex. The taste was uncannily accurate and incomprehensively delicious.

Mesmerized, Tiana watched as Derek, ignoring her actions, poured oil onto his hands and began massaging her shoulders and working his way down to her breasts. She closed her eyes and focused on the erotic touch. It started gently, almost like a whisper brushing across her chest as he traced circles with his fingers on her sensitive breasts.

Was this part of a normal massage?

Finding his way, he traced the outlines of her nipples next, finally, lingering on the extremely aroused tips. She felt his gentle touch hover there for a while. Suddenly, and without warning, he firmly kneaded her breasts with the palms of his large hands while simultaneously pinching her nipples with thumbs and forefingers. The resulting shock threw her over the edge. The orgasm hit her like a nuclear explosion that began at her center and washed over her entire body, quick but intense.

Tiana held onto the massage table as the room spun out of control. She nearly blacked out. Minutes later she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. She managed to sit up on the table and slowly regain her composure.

All that from having my breasts touched
? She turned to Derek as she got off the table.
Why does that stupid hologram look so smug?
She looked away and headed for the suite’s bedroom.

“Set a wake-up call for nine, Earth time, tomorrow morning. Exit program.”

All matter was rearranged back into its original design. Had Tiana looked back, she would have seen a very naked and still painfully erect Derek, staring at the sways of her curves as she walked away in her birthday suit.

The stress of the day and the intensity of her release came crashing down on her. Tiana crawled into her bed and within seconds, her body floated up and hovered just inches above its gravity suspension field. She silently praised the genius of whomever it was that had invented anti-gravity beds. How prior generations had ever been able to rest while lying on their primitive mattresses was beyond her comprehension.
I am so thankful for modern, state-of-the art conveniences.

Tiana relaxed and, for the first time in months, felt safe. She didn’t understand why, but in her mind she imagined this feeling of safety taking on a physical form. The form was that of a tall, dark stranger who was stark naked. Tiana felt the warmth of covers being drawn over her and the sweet gentleness of being tucked in. She unwittingly smiled as she slid into sweet slumber.

“Good morning, this is your wake-up call,” she heard a sexy, masculine voice whisper next to her ear in a delicious southern drawl that reminded her of home.

Why was that drawl, that voice, so familiar?

“Go away. I’m on vacation and I don’t have to get up if I don’t want to,” Tiana whined at the talking alarm clock as, diving under the covers, she turned her body around and floated to the foot of the bed, trying to get away from her exceedingly handsome alarm clock.

Gingerly, she lifted the covers at the foot of the bed just enough to slip her head through them. Was she dreaming? She took a deep breath and was overwhelmed by what appeared to be the smell of bacon, eggs and cinnamon rolls. Her imagination must be playing games with her.

“Per your instructions, it’s time to get up,” she heard the same voice say as she felt strong but gentle hands brushing her hair back and away from her face. This time she detected what was clearly a man’s breath, except it was not like her ex’s stale, morning doggie breath, and it wasn’t minty or sweet, either. It was just, well, a man’s breath. Did such a thing really exist? She was not a morning person, but this one seemed full of promise and rife with potential.

Slowly, Tiana forced her eyes to open one at a time. As they focused, they focused on a man’s face. It was last night’s hologram, her — what did it call itself? — Personal Attendant. This time, though, instead of a Roman toga he was wearing a white, long-sleeved cotton shirt with front laces and light gray chino pants.
Hmm, Roman toga or fashion statement?
She’d decide her preferences later. This was some good software! She looked out at the great room and noticed a program was running. Deactivating the anti-gravity field, she rolled off her bed and realized for the first time that she was still naked from last night’s massage program.

“Computer, dress me in a robe.”

The computer materialized a skimpy garment made of black see-through material with feathery trim on the sleeves and edges upon her still very exposed body. Obviously, a programmer’s idea of a joke.

“Would you care for matching shoes?” she heard her Personal Attendant ask.

Tiana felt her irritation stir as a flush crept up her cheeks.

“You know, you are an AI. The ‘I’ is supposed to stand for the word ‘intelligence,’ not ‘idiot.’ Watch yourself! Who the hell programmed this, this, whatever it is, to be the default robe?” She wasn’t sure how, for holograms weren’t supposed to change a program’s factory defaults, but somehow she had a feeling this one was responsible.

“Computer, replace the default robe with a fluffy white and very opaque robe.”

In the blink of an eye, the computer replaced the skimpy piece of lingerie with a soft, fluffy white robe protecting her nude body from his gaze.
Did my Personal Attendant just pout?

Stepping out of her bedroom, she walked into a deserted, rustic, rooftop café with a view of what was probably late-nineteenth century to early-twentieth century Paris. She could see the Eiffel Tower in the background.

“Please step this way, mademoiselle, your breakfast awaits you.” The French accent was pitiful. She was glad to at last find a flaw in his programming.

She followed her attendant past a small dance floor with an adjacent bar, which she assumed was for nighttime use, and took a seat at a white wrought-iron, glass-topped, table at the far edge of the brick terrace, overlooking a boulevard. It was set with a single place setting of fine, all-white china and sterling silver flatware. At the center of the table, a single crimson rose stood inside a thin, finely cut crystal vase.

As she sat at the table, the robe slid off the top of her legs, parting to the sides and exposing everything below the belt to her Personal Attendant’s gaze. With a mischievous grin, he quickly snapped her linen napkin open and, availing himself of the opportunity, placed it on her extremely bare lap while innocently caressing her thighs. Ignoring the flush his action caused, she directed her attention to the food before her.

“Wait a minute.” She stopped sniffing the exotic aroma of her favorite coffee. “How did you know my favorite breakfast is cinnamon rolls with bacon and eggs, not to mention my special brew of coffee?”

“Fret not, mademoiselle. In order to better serve you, I linked to Earth through the galactic-net and downloaded your restaurant records for the past five months. Cinnamon rolls, bacon and scrambled eggs topped with a tall cup of Brazil Ipanema Bourbon coffee were a recurring theme, specifically at the bistro which you seem to frequent.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she stated with not much conviction as she took her first bite. “You also downloaded the recipe, didn’t you? How many privacy laws have you broken since last night?”

“Mademoiselle, how can holographic programs be subject to either Earth or intergalactic law?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“I’m not a Legal-Bot, but I’d say the woman that programmed you, not to mention the owners of this ship, are in deep crap.”

“What makes you think I was programmed by a woman?”

“Let’s see, your outfits are fashionable and color coordinated and, well, somehow I think the design of your physical attributes was carried out by a woman who obviously appreciates such things. However, my guess is that your predecessor was probably designed by a man. Not as handsome and rugged as you.” She smiled, then frowned.

Wait a minute! Am I flirting with a computer program? I really need to start dating. Tiana, you’re pathetic. This is not healthy, this is not natural.

“You don’t seem to have a very high opinion of the males of your species,” he stated, maintaining his devilish grin as he sat next to her.

“Let’s just say I am not terribly impressed with their character, their ethics or their loyalty.”

“Tiana, I am so sorry, it sounds like you have had some rough bumps in your life and with your loves,” Derek replied with a true note of compassion in his voice.

Tiana laughed. “While the word bump,`` particularly on a log, a rotten one at that, accurately describes my ex-husband, it does not come close to describing his actions.”

It felt good to laugh. It had been ages since she had laughed, at least while sober.

“Derek, you are luckier than you know. Being a hologram, you don’t feel, so you will never have to suffer through the emotions of loneliness, sadness and betrayal. That’s the worst one, betrayal. It is as if someone took a knife, sliced you open and gutted you of everything you believe in and hold dear. I will never trust another man for as long as I live.”

“What about me? Do you trust me?”

“You’re not a man. You are a virtual man, a program, with built-in artificial intelligence.”

Was that hurt she saw on the handsome face before her? What incredible attention to detail!

“Besides,” she continued, “who would you tell? Don’t they erase the passengers’ memory space from the main holographic computer after each flight?”

“True, but I, ah, my programming is so much more than just artificial intelligence. I am designed to feel, sense, entertain and laugh. In a very real sense, I possess the sentient qualities that humans value. Unlike most holographic creations that are, in fact, just artificial intelligence, before I carry forth an action, I am able to not just analyze it, but to imagine it and feel it. Prior to waking you up this morning, I took into account my observations of you. You looked sad last night. A simple wake-up call would have sufficed, but you looked like someone who needed to begin her day by having her favorite breakfast in Paris, during, shall we say, a slower and more graceful time period of history. I can first imagine the emotions that my actions are likely to cause before I carry them out.”