In the lounge at The Shangri-La Hotel, soft conversation passed among
the regulars in the early evening. The hotel crowds had not yet begun to trickle in, and the music box was still silent. For
the regulars, that is, the barflies and their accompanying hangers-on, the muffled sounds and piercing bedspring squeaks emanating
from the room directly over them were a fine accent to their liquor-enhanced discussions, and a cause of quiet routine amusement.
* * * * *
"Ohhh Gaawwwddd..... ! Gawd! Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhhhhhh .... ! Ahhhh ... ohhhh!"
In the room above, the middle aged fat man lay on his back on the plastic
sheet, pouring sweat and writhing in pleasure. The lover-bot straddling him bounced her groin against his in a rapid, piston-to-cylinder
motion, quite literally fucking the shit out of him. His hands gripped her breasts with stubby fingers, squeezing hard and
frantically as his toes curled back with a snap.
As he climaxed, she tightened the vaginal faux-musculature and accelerated
the peristaltic rate within the canal. The man's hips rose up off the bed, thrusting as he held his breath and his body became
rigid and his face turned scarlet red.
The lover-bot, though engaged, observed her customer carefully. He had
risen quickly, and the cardiac strain was becoming apparent. There would be serious penalties should she cause the death of
an orga due to excessive sexual stress. The responsibility legally fell upon her, as such stress was not an issue with mecha.
She introduced a small amount of NumzitTM into her vaginal canal to shorten
his response a bit. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, his body went slack, and his sphincter gave out. The odor of bowel
filled the room.
She lay down next to him, stroking his face as he caught his breath.
"Did I please you tonight, my love?" she asked in a breathy, musical voice.
"Oh,jeez ... heh-heh! Hell, yeah! Damn, I'm about crippled! I can't feel
my legs!" He grinned, then leaned over and kissed her as he withdrew. "Just kidding," he said, chuckling.
She licked his lips, then sat up, smiling with a sexy pout as she looked
down at him. "You wear me so well. Until next week, then, pet? Same time?"
"Same time. The money's in my wallet. Take it all. A little bonus."
She grinned as she climbed out of the bed. He watched her as she pulled
on her black skinsuit, boots and belt. She still looks naked, he thought to himself. Like she's been dipped in ink. Only the
front zipper gives it away.
She finished dressing, retrieved the money from his pants, then stood
over him at the bedside. She struck a pose, one hand on her tilted hips, the other slowly sliding the fat wad of Newbucks
into a pouch in the belt just above her groin.
"Remember, pet," she said. "You ... are my favorite. A god among these
sad mortals. No one could ever compare to you. I run to this room when it's your night."
The man smiled and blew her a kiss. He was nothing. Lower than below
average. A loser. A pig that got off wallowing in it's own feces. No orga woman would find him the least attractive. But lover-mechas
were programmed to find all humans infinitely beautiful.
She turned and left the room, tensing her ass provocatively as she walked.
As she tripped deftly down the stairs to the hotel lobby, the machinery
within her scoured her internal equipment, neutralizing and removing fluids alien to her makeup, and processing them to be
recycled as sweat, saliva and vaginal fluids. She shook her head, and every hair fell into place. In a flash, she was ready
for the next customer.
As she finished the stairs and rounded the comer, she saw something that
amused her. "Ah-ha, Mr. Williamson! I'm surprised at you!"
Williamson, the desk clerk, had been entranced in a girlie magazine,
and hadn't heard her coming. He folded the magazine and quickly shoved it into a cubbyhole at the desk, grinning. "Well, heh-heh,
you caught me."
"Oh, Mr. Williamson! Why do you content yourself with that, when I could
do so much more for you?" She leaned against the desk and reached out, tickling his stubbled chin with a crooked finger as
she rubbed her breasts against the desk.
"You're way out of my range, Jane."
"Awww. Poor Mr. Williamson. Perhaps we can do something about that. When's
your birthday'?"
"A long time ago."
"Mmmm. Maybe I could arrange a very special present for that next one
that's coming soon. No charge. After all, you've done so much for me. You game?"
"Ummm ... sure!" A slight sheen broke out on his forehead as he began
to sweat.
She smiled sweetly, and ran her fingers across his nearly bare scalp.
"It's a date, then, love, " she said, caressing his neck beneath his collar as she bit her lower lip.
Her pager beeped. She dragged the medallion ever so slowly from beneath
her skinsuit, watching Williamson watch her, and read the information. "I've got to go! See you shortly ... Mr. Williamson."
* * * * *
Jane bounced nimbly down the stairs from the hotel entrance, and spied
a male-mecha approaching that she recognized. He was doing a quick two step down the rain-soaked curb. He quickly spun around,
regaining the sidewalk, and saw her.
"Hey, Joe! Whaddaya know?" she said.
He grinned as he passed her on his way up the stairs. "Hey, Jane! How's
the game?"
She continued on to her next assignment, wondering how it would be to
be with him. With Joe. With another mecha. The orga could not withstand their full functionality, so - it would be most interesting
to have sex with Joe. Just a mutual systems check, to see how far each could go.
Just to see who could go all the way.
