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Date: Fri, 27 May 2005 03:08:08 +0000
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AI -g11
by Vivian Darkbloom
What it takes to please your 11-year old daughter nowadays; Elektra, my pale
bouncing girl with chipper blue eyes and blonde hair. Nothing like her mother,
thank God, who left me for someone "better" long ago. No love lost between
the two of them either, as Elektra never got along with her mother. I was
always her favorite, so she was happy to stay and cuddle with me.
Back in earlier centuries, she would have been content with a Barbie Doll
or two or three. Welcome to the 23rd century, when no less will suffice than
a fully functional realistic android just like all her friends have. And
anyways with the price coming down, we could afford two or three easily.
Amazing what they're doing with technology these days. I understand with
all that Artificial Intelligence, it can even help her with math and stuff
like that. Mostly, I think they try on different clothes, just like dolls
from the olden days.
Now I'm sitting home, taking a day off. Elektra is off at school with her
girlfriends, leaving me home alone with the robot. As I sit sipping coffee,
Roberta (the robot) follows her homing circuitry, causing her to be drawn
towards human company. It's a girl robot, made to look and act the same age
as my Elektra. As I sit in my pajamas sipping coffee at the kitchen table,
Roberta comes in and sits next to me, wearing a light flannel nightgown that
barely goes down to her knees.
She was a birthday gift about a month ago, so I haven't spent much time with
her yet. My daughter occupies all of her time (I haven't the vaguest idea
what they spend all it doing), but now with Elektra off at school, the beautiful
young womanequin is here in front of me. Chestnut brown hair, a freckle here
and there.
I marvel at how realistic her skin appears. Absently, I reach over to feel
her cheek with the tips of my fingers. First she shies away slightly, then
allows me to stroke the gentle skin of her face, to caress her soft locks
of chestnut brown hair. Just like the real thing!
She reaches up and takes my hand, swiveling to stare at me with her deep
brown eyes. Very authentic.
"You are very realistic," I venture, unsure what to say to an android.
"Why thank you," she said, lowering her eyes. "She" is still holding my hand
affectionately, and snuggles up to my side, placing a small kiss on my cheek.
I am amazed how soft and moist her lips are. I bet she kisses better than
most women I've ever met. "Are you capable of kissing, you know, on the lips?"
I ask hesitantly.
"I am capable of a full range of affection," she replies matter-of-factly.
"I am designed to be anatomically correct to both a visual and tactile senses."
Momentarily wondering just what she means by 'full range of affection,' I
feel a twinge of guilt at playing with Elektra's toy. But hell, it was my
money. And hey, I'm not hurting anybody.
I lean forward and brush my lips against hers, half expecting that she will
bite, or taste like mechanic's grease. Nothing of the sort. Sweeter than
honey, she responds with a gentle ferocity, running her tongue around the
inner rim of my lips.
I later read that this model of robot was equipped with circuitry that had
been designed with a bisexual lesbian from the 22nd century who had become
fed up with the constrictive consent laws of the time. Of course, now that
the legal age has been lowered to 9 years old, it's not such a big deal.
Apparently, nobody since then has been able to design affection algorithms
with the same degree of authenticity, and they are impossible to separate
from the well, um, more intimate shall we say, aspects.
As we were engaged in the playfully sensual french kisses, I noticed that
she had sat on my lap, facing me, running her hands up and down my chest,
legs spreading around me. Her soft baby-fat (-like) buns touched my crotch
briefly, causing a pleasant tension as the blood rushed in, creating a bulge
against the front of my pants.
She looked down at it, scooting closer to where she was gently pressing her
crotch against the bulge in my pants. She moaned gently as she made contact.
The bulge increased as she gently rocked against it. I had to adjust, so
I reached down inside my pants. Her hand followed mine, and I felt the soft
tips of her fingers stroking the head of it, all the while probing and caressing
my lips and tongue with hers.
I noticed a tiny damp spot on the front of her nightgown where she was pressing
against me. Curious how exactly 'anatomical' she was, I reached around her
butt, under her gown, and gently probed around the underside of her pubic
arch with my fingers -- halfway expecting to find the door to a battery compartment.
She gasped as I touched her clitoris by chance, and the tip of my ring finger
slid a ways into the moist hole.
The intensity of her stroking inside my pants increased slightly. We went
on feeling each other this way for awhile, the action of her gyrating pelvis
increasing with the sound of her moans of longing.
At this point, I knew I would have to cum somehow, or be grumpy all day.
And anyways, Elektra was already going to be upset no matter what. "Hey,
can I really put this thing inside of you?" I asked.
"Oh, please," she moaned, tugging at the waistband of my pants. I pulled
them down, letting fly the stiffly flopping arrow of pleasure. She reached
down with both hands and circled shaft and balls with her sensuous caresses.
She kneeled down and began to suck on the head, (after pausing to moisten
her finger with saliva) deftly inserting her finger into my anus. My rod
responded by perking up even more, irresistibly unstoppably solid, ready
to drill through a cement wall.
She stood up again and, lifting her gown, brushed the tip against her soft
moist hole. Yes! We moaned together in sweet pleasure. She brushed again,
and again, this time pushing down gently, plunging me inside of her.
She did all the work, kissing me with her mouth and with the mouth between
her legs, taking me into the safety of her pleasure zone.
Our rhythmic dance continued until, ripe with the tension of longing, I felt
her vagina contracting around me, causing me to let go with cascading ripples
of gushing forth milky sweetness into the forbidden void between her legs.
Elektra would be so pissed if she know. Oh well.
You know how kids forget to give you notices from school? The teacher hands
out a slip of paper and informs the students that the message is urgent,
and it winds up folded and forgotten at the bottom of a backpack until either
it is too late, or (better) until there is barely enough time and whatever
it is needs to be done in a frantically frenetic frenzy?
It turned out that Elektra seemed not to notice that I had engaged in any
misbehavior with her girl-bot, so after a few days or so I found more opportunities
to spend time with "her," exploring the "full range of affection" she had
so honestly boasted of. Full range. Man, that hardly begins to say it.
And so it was that, one afternoon, I writhed with pleasant longing, rocket
ship ready to reach the stars, the tip of it captured in Roberta's deliciously
teasing and coaxing mouth, ready to erupt any moment onto her tongue, when
the door bursts open and Elektra bursts in with her friend Yacinta, a thin
dark-skinned girl, also eleven, who as got to be one of the friendliest,
most physically attractive young girls I have ever met. "Hi dad, we had a
half-day at school today, and... Oh my God."
Talk about blushing faces, all around. In a panic, I gave up hope that Yacinta
would ever respect me again. How on earth would I blow off this story if
it got around? Which it seemed likely to do with two such loquacious witnesses.
As I sat there on the couch in the awkward silence with steel rod firmly
raging upward, even more firmly in the company of my daughter and her friend.
"I didn't know you had a half-day at school," I stammered clumsily.
"Oh, yeah." Said Elektra. She plopped down her back and began digging through
it. Roberta smiled coyly up at me, and ran her tongue up the shaft to the
tip of my penis.
Yacinta, still smiling, sat down curiously on the couch next to me, eyes
glued to the scene of fascination. "I didn't know she could pleasure guys
too," she muttered softly.
Too? I thought. "Too" meaning "in addition to," in addition to what? To pleasuring
girls? OK, so what had they been doing with this robot in all the time they
spend off in her room?
Roberta ran her tongue the length of me, and my rod vibrated as a string
that had just been plucked.
"Here, dad," said Elektra, shoving a crumpled, torn, dirty piece of paper
in my face. I turned it over, then right-side-up to reveal the writing on
it. "Attention parents ... February 11 will be a half-day, in preparation
for the upcoming teacher conferences. Students will be dismissed at noon
on that day."
"That would be today," I said. "Thanks for the warning."
Elektra shrugged. "No problem," she mumbled, sitting down on the couch on
the other side of me. "So, is this going to take long? I want to play with
my dolly-girl."
"I am fully capable of multitasking," stated Roberta, running her finger
once more the length of my stiffened member. "I am programmed with the capacity
to give pleasure to both of you at once."
Now it was Elektra's turn to blush.
"Yeah, yeah," said Yacinta quietly, eyes flashing at Elektra, then putting
up her fingers to silence her lips when she thought about my presence.
"So," I inquired. "What is it you do with this robot, exactly?"
"Well, hum. You want to see a live demonstration?"
I thought about it. I supposed there was no harm in it. Technically speaking,
it wasn't incest. Simply father and daughter playing with the same toy. (though
I had difficulty not thinking of Roberta as another girl). And given that
the legal age of consent is nine years old in this day and age, it would
be perfectly acceptable.
"Fine. Why don't you go ahead and show me?" I replied.
Yacinta gleefully clapped her hands, grinning ear-to-ear.
"Ok Dad. I think she wants you to use the lower entrance," said Elektra.
Sure enough, Roberta got down on the silky-soft carpet, on hands and knees.
Elektra impulsively grabbed my throbbing arrow between thumb and forefinger,
forcefully guiding me into the waiting canyon. I was too stunned to protest,
as I felt the juicy warm ring of Roberta's loving tiny vagina pulsing and
trembling around the tip of my penis, then moving down the shaft as I nudged
myself into her aperture. Roberta gasped in an ever-so girl-like fashion.
Yacinta sat Indian-style on the floor, watching the close-up view with fascination.
Meanwhile, my daughter was spreading her legs in front of Roberta's face,
and with easy and casual familiarity she lifted her light spring flowery
dress and slipped down her underwear off of her legs.
It had been awhile since I had looked closely at her delicate flower, and
now fully engorged inside another girl (Hey, I was beyond the metaphor of
it now), I carefully examined each gentle and graceful curve of bare pink
skin,the curling layers of lips thinly adjacent on either side of her love-tunnel.
Elektra reached down a tiny little-girl finger and prodded the head of her
pink flower. I watched in awe and tremendous affection as my girl worked
herself into a sexual trance, soon joined by the efforts of the girl I was
so firmly inside of, as Roberta lovingly placed her lips on Elektra's labia,
inserted the tip of her tiny finger into the baby-vagina.
Slowly we rocked together, I and my beloved daughter sharing the same toy,
and with tender aching I watched the storming tides of her desire rise and
flow over the dam. As her moans increased in pitch and intensity, I felt
every one of them in the longing tip of my red-hot poker, each vocalisation
of sexual crescendo rising in my own emotion of motion towards release.
All the while Yacinta sat as a smiling spectator, now and then secretly fingering
her own pleasure button. Later she told me how much she longed to be where
Roberta was now, in between me and Elektra.
The roller coaster was on its track now, and I felt it going over the final
turn, and pleasantly I gazed down at the last downhill rush about to take
place, when Elektra's dam simultaneously burst, and her waters of ecstasy
spilled uncontrollably convulsing, coloring the spectrum of my sensation
as I cascaded over the edge myself, squeezing one enormous drop after another
of sweet release into the depths of the girl I was inside, sharing the blissful
moment of release with my beloved girl.
When it was done, Yacinta looked up at me with adoration and longing.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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