Title: Our Robot, Chapter Seven Author: Nobilis Summary: Camsex flashback Keywords: We don't need no stinkin' keywords *************************************** Dislaimers This story is intended as Adult entertainment. It contains material of an explicit, adult, sexual nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content, please do not read any further. This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. It may be distributed for free with all disclaimers attached. *************************************** Our Robot by Nobilis Chapter Seven Anne Bill and I "met" in college. He was a math tutor, and I was having trouble with integral calculus. It just wasn't 'clicking' for me. Derivatives were no problem, mostly, but as soon as we switched over to integral calculus I was sunk. Not only was I looking at a failing grade on my otherwise excellent transcript, it was a requirement for virtually everything in my sophomore year schedule. I was majoring in perception engineering. I wanted to design eyes, the kind they use in people, not robots, though the disciplines are related. My school didn't have any tutors available, so they arranged for a guy from another college to tutor me over the 'net. They told me that he was a graduate student, working on a dual master's in mathematics and artificial intelligence. Bill was patient, knowledgeable, and professional. We had to have spent a hundred hours with that virtual blackboard, trying to hammer that square peg into my round hole of a mind. In the end, I switched majors to psychology. I went to our scheduled tutoring session to tell him I wouldn't be back. "I'm sorry, Bill. It's just clear that I'm not going to pass this course. You've been very patient with me, and I know you've done everything that can be done to teach me this stuff... but it just isn't happening." "So what you're saying is, 'It isn't you, it's me,' am I right?" I could hear the humor in his voice. I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I am." "So I guess our professional relationship is at an end." "Yeah." I felt a little sad. "In that case, do you mind if I make a small request?" "Not at all." "Can I see you?" "What?" "Turn on your camera and let me see your face." "Why?" "I've been hearing your voice for six weeks, for hours and hours... and I want to see your face." "You want to see my face." "Right. So I can remember you." "You want to remember me?" "Is that so strange?" "I suppose not." "So will you do it?" "Alright." I turned on the camera. He saw my face, my long brown hair, my glasses... maybe a corner of the dorm room. "Now your turn." He turned on his camera. He had red hair. There was a poster on the wall behind him, with a unicorn and a girl in a diaphanous white robe. I remember that the first thing that struck me was the curve of his jaw. It wasn't a lantern jaw, it wasn't particularly manly, but I remember that it was interesting. I wanted someone who knew what they were doing to draw it. "Well?" I said. "Thank you." "No, that's not what I meant." "I knew I liked you before you turned on the camera, so it should come as no surprise that I find you attractive." "All we ever talked about was calculus. You don't know anything about me." "I know you are... well, were in perception engineering. That means you want to work on eyes and ears and stuff like that. That means you care about people. I like that." "What else do you know about me?" "I know you have a roommate named Grace." "That's not really about me, though." "I know she's gay." "What?" "She's gay. After the first session, you left the link open, and after you left the room I could hear her making love with another woman." I laughed a little. "I'm going to have to apologize to her for that... my god, she's going to kill me." "Do you have a girlfriend?" he asked. "No, no, my bus doesn't go to that church," I said, still smiling. "Oh, that's good. Boyfriend, then?" "Nobody serious." "Good answer. Keeps me guessing." I just shrugged. "So have you seen enough?" "Enough?" "Enough to remember me." "No. I've got a bad memory for faces." "Bill, why don't you just come out and say what you want." He looked away from the screen, and then back again. "I don't want to never see you again." I smiled a bit. "I don't know, Bill..." "Anne... I know we're a thousand kilometers apart... but I would really like to see you again." "Over the 'net?" "It's the only thing we have, right now." I knew a lot more about Bill than he knew - or would admit to know - about me. I knew he was patient, and smart, and witty. "I guess it'll have to do," I said. His face lit up. I smiled. I could feel a blush coming to my cheeks. "Did you *really* hear my roommate making love?" He nodded. "Yeah. She's a grunter." "My god, you really HAVE heard them making love." "You have too?" "Well, Grace doesn't have a lot of modesty." "Don't tell me she's had sex with her partner while you were in the room." "Yeah... she did." "Did she think you were asleep or something?" "No, actually, I was watching Firefly Next Generation." "Wow! And they just...!" "Actually... they invited me to join them." "No!" I nodded. "I thought that only happened in porn videos." "You've seen a lot of porn videos, then?" "Well, I..." He laughed nervously. "You're cute when you're blushing." A defiant look came over his face. "Yes, I have seen a lot of porn videos." He was still blushing. "What kind?" He smiled and blushed some more. "All kinds." "Ah, an experienced gourmet," I joked. He laughed. "What kind do you like?" "Well," He said, idly scratching the back of his head, "I've got a few, where they have a woman sit on her bed, and talk about herself while she takes off her clothes." "And you like those?" "Yeah. In most porn videos, you don't feel like the woman is... well, a woman, really. She's just a body." I nodded. "Those are made by that outfit in Australia, aren't they?" "Yeah, you know them?" "Grace watches them. She says I should send them a videofile, try out for the site. According to her, they pay good money." "You're pretty enough," he said. "I don't know if I'd be comfortable enough in front of the camera." "You seem to be pretty comfortable to me." "I'm not taking off my clothes." "You're not? Oh, darn..." He smiled self-consciously. "Bill, are you saying you want to see me strip for you?" He swallowed. "Yes." "I don't ordinarily do that kind of thing, Bill." "Ordinarily?" "I could be convinced to make an exception." "Would it help if I stripped for you first? Just to make you comfortable, that is." "It might, it might..." Without further ado, Bill got up from his chair and stepped back away from his camera, so I could see him from about knees up. He faced the camera and matter-of-factly pulled off his t-shirt, dropped his sweatpants, and stripped off his underwear. He lay down, on his side, on his bed. His body was at an angle, with his feet closer to me, to the left, and his head further away, on the right. From this angle, his penis was in the middle of the screen... and it was hard. I had seen his hands the entire time... he hadn't touched it. He got that way just thinking of me. I think I said something inane like "Wow" or "Ohmygod." "Thanks," he said, "Your turn." "I didn't say I'd strip for you just because you did." "Okay. That's fine." "You're fine lying there naked?" "Yeah. I'm fine. I'd like it a lot if you would, though." "Since you put it so nicely." I stood up and backed away from the screen. I took a deep breath. "I've never done this before," I said. "Neither have I." "You haven't?" I pulled off my Harry Chapin t-shirt. I wish I had my fancy bra on underneath, but it was a plain white one. He shook his head. "I like it, though." "I can see that." I unsnapped my jeans and pulled them down. Mom always said I'd be glad someday to wear clean underwear every day. Too bad these were cotton "granny" panties. "So tell me about yourself," he said. "What?" "That's part of it, isn't it?" I had stopped, with my hands on the clasp of my front-hook bra. That, at least, was a lucky choice this morning. "What do you want to know?" "What do you do for fun?" "Well, I play guitar, and harp," she said. "I like folk music..." "Don't stop," he interrupted. "Huh?" "Taking off your clothes," he said. "You're supposed to do both at the same time." "Oh, right." I unsnapped the bra and slid it off my shoulders. I like my breasts. A nice, well-formed B-cup, with pink aureoles that made little cones rather than lying flat, even when they weren't erect. I heard Bill make an approving noise. I looked up at the screen. Bill had his hand on his penis. This really was turning him on. Hell, it was turning ME on. "I like folk music, like Stan Rogers and Harry Chapin." "I've never heard of them. Can you send me some audiofiles?" "Sure." I had my hands on the elastic of my underwear. I looked up at Bill. He was stroking his erection slowly. He was circumcised. The head was turning dark, and he was starting to get flushed. "Bill... you're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you? I haven't even got my underwear off." "Oh, sorry..." He stopped stroking. "Is that bothering you?" "No, actually, I like it. You're all jazzed up and I've hardly done anything." He started stroking again. I pulled down my underwear, stepped out of them and tossed them aside. He smiled. He was starting to breathe harder. I watched him. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I know he wanted me to start masturbating too, but I couldn't go that far. So I kept talking, to cover my nervousness. "I'm working on an act." "Unh-huh." He seemed to be losing brain cells. "In case the college thing doesn't work out? Heh, I guess this is a bad time for making jokes, especially really bad jokes." His legs stretched out, and he stopped stroking. His eyes closed and he let out a long exhalation. "Oh, wow are you..." His semen spurted across the room, vanishing out of the view of the camera. The only thing I could think was, "Gee, I hope he doesn't have carpeting in there." He lay back on his bed and relaxed. I took it as my cue to start putting my clothes back on. When he recovered, he said, "That was incredibly sexy." I was incredibly flattered. "So... can we do this again sometime? Sometime soon?" "Sure. I'd like that." He cleaned up, and put his clothes back on. We talked for an hour or so more, but then he had to go teach a class, and I had to get to bed so I could get a few hours sleep before my morning started. In the next few weeks, we connected up for an hour or two a night. Sometimes we'd just sit and chat, and sometimes we'd strip for each other, and he'd masturbate. It wasn't until the fourth time that I had the courage to touch myself while he watched, and I was too nervous to have an orgasm. The fifth time, I had a little one, and the sixth time I had a big, beautiful orgasm. After that I made sure to put a towel down first. Our relationship continued to grow as that year progressed. In June, Bill graduated, and he found a job at my university, as an associate professor. We couldn't move in together at that point, because of some Victorian-era University rules about "student-professor fraternization" but I spent just about every night at his apartment, and we didn't have to have our sex over the 'net any more. End Chapter SevenOur_Robot_Chapter_07