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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of    o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-    o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

 
Duplicate Lovers (MF)
by Anonymos Author
First published by "The Editor"


                                Chapter 1

     Clarence Williams sped to the supermarket parking lot in his Skimmer,
which rode on air instead of wheels.  Beside him sat a man that looked
exactly like Clarence, that could've been his twin brother.  A woman sat
in the back seat.
     The man who sat silently beside Clarence and was an exact duplicate
of him was not his twin brother.  It was Clarence Two, a robot. And it was
9 a.m. on an August day in 1995.
     Clarence circled to join the other robot owners, each with a
duplicate seated beside him or her, in Skimmers similar to Clarence's. The
humans got out of their cars to mill around the closed doors of the
supermarket, awaiting the manager who would open the doors.  The robots,
most of whom looked exactly like their owners, sat patiently, silently,
waiting for the call to work.  Clarence found a friend, Henry.
     "Still thinking of trading in your GM and your DuPont for A-C
robots?" asked Henry.
     "You know it," said Clarence.  "I've already got my order in."
     "How stupid can you be?" asked Henry.  "A-C robots are the worst.
Twenty companies make a better robot."
     The store manager arrived.  The robots filed silently out of the
Skimmers on order from their owners and into the store to do their jobs.
Some were checkers, some were stock- handlers, some were baggers.  Besides
the store manager, there was only one other human worker in the store, a
woman too poor to own her own robot.  The robots with plastiskin surfaces
and driven by miraculous miniature electronic 'chips', mingled with the
human customers, blending so perfectly that it was impossible to
distinguish between human and machine.  The salaries the robots earned
would go to the owners, who could go fishing, stay home and loaf or work
at other jobs.
     Robots delivered, and the store buzzing with early morning customers,
Clarence and Henry returned to the parking lot.  Henry looked at the robot
woman in the back seat of Clarence's vehicle.  He shook his head.
     "You've got a robot checker and a female robot bank teller," he told
Clarence.  "You'd have to give up both to get one of the A-C robots. You
can live like a king - why give it up?"
     Clarence was tired of Henry's skepticism. "You want to know why?
I'll tell you why.  It's a secret, but I got a good reason.  The new A-C
robots are gonna be able to have sex."
     "YOU'RE CRAZY!" Nobody would dare make a robot that has sex."
     "A-C will.  They'll have the only robots in the country - in the
world! - that can both work at jobs and have sex."
     "Man," said Henry, "giving a robot sex equipment is AGAINST THE LAW!
Didn't you know that."
     Clarence smiled a cunning smile.
     "No, my friend.  ALTERING a robot after it leaves the factory, that's
against the law.  The black market sex attachments stink anyway. Any
manufacturer of robots can make 'em do anything they want, except kill a
human."
     "Clarence, twenty big companies make robots - G.M., DuPont, Kodak,
Lockheed, even the telephone company.  They're all in the act.  Not ONE
puts sex parts in robots.  How come?"
     "Because they're big companies with little old lady stockholders and
a public relations image.  It's a gentlemen's agreement - until some small
aggressive outfit comes along and starts sexing-up the robots.  When
profits drop, they'll switch fast-enough.  By then, little old A-C right
here in Chicago will be way out in front."
     "You know so much!" sneered Henry.
     Clarence had had it up to here with Henry's sneers.  He was sworn to
secrecy but this morning, he couldn't take it any more.
     "My cousin is a lady engineer at A-C downtown," said Clarence.
"She's in Advanced Research.  She's working on a robot with sex parts
right now.  I've seen pictures.  I'll tell you something, friend.  Those
first A-C's will sell for $100,000, and your average non-sex robot will
drop from $20,000 to $5,000 on used robot lots all over Chicago and
everywhere else!"
     He stalked off in triumph to deliver his lady robot to her job at the
bank as a teller.  Might as well goof off the rest of the day.  When you
own two working robots, who needs a job.  And when those A-C sex jobs come
out - zowie!
     Henry waited until Clarence was out of sight. Then he pulled a small
transceiver out of his pocket and called the Chicago headquarters of the
private detective firm that employed him. By noon every large corporation
in the country that made work robots had the word.  A small Chicago outfit
was about to release a robot with sex parts - and this newest of
industries, that had excited the country for the past ten years, was due
for a major upheaval.
     Thirty miles away in downtown Chicago, Nancy Lyons, Project Engineer
for the A-C Corporation, cleared her laboratory of all humans.  She was
all alone with Big Sam, the first robot in the history of the world who
had everything.
     She walked up to the six foot robot who smiled politely down at her.
     "Well, Sam," she said, "today you become a man.  You cost us two
million dollars and the front office wants to find out what they've
bought."
     The robot stood a little over six feet, with broad shoulders, a
nicely tapered torso and muscular legs.  His body was patterned after a
famous athlete, while his face resembled Nancy's boss, Nelson Harper.  It
was both an in joke and a compliment to the head of Advanced Research.
     "You're beautiful," the robot told her, his seduction cycle
activiated by her body heat and other sensory data.
     "Thank you," laughed Nancy, eyes dancing. The fact was, she was
beautiful.  It was an accident of birth.  She had an engineer's brain in
the sexy body of a model.  At thirty, she was at her physical as well as
mental peak.
     She accepted her beauty and femininity.  Her usual dress was a black
leatherite jumpsuit with a wet look.  Breasts tight and jiggly in the
suit, belly flat, rear-end ripe, thighs and legs perfectly curved, she was
a fitting representative of the human race in this first sex encounter
with a machine.
     She pulled down Sam's head and kissed him on the mouth.  At the
probing of her pink tongue, his lips opened.  Her tongue shot into his
mouth.  She savored his sweet breath, delicious saliva, his gasp.  Of
course a sex robot had to have all of that and more.  He had to be more
like a man than a man himself.
     Breathing deeply from the kiss, and excited, Nancy reached down and
played with Big Sam's cock in his pants.  It thickened and rose just like
it was supposed to.
     "Uh," grunted the robot in distress.  His pants constricted his hard-
on.  Delighted with this little touch she'd given him, she released his
cock from his pants, stroking the warm plastiskin that felt so real.  It
was great.  She felt her cunt swell and become wet as she moved the soft
cock skin over his hard love-muscle.
     She fondled the stiff cock, so hot and natural, and she felt the
velvet run of preseminal fluid seep out.  Maybe there was a little more of
that than a real man gave off.
     "That feels GREAT," murmured the robot in a deep, masculine voice.
The voice had been specially chosen.  Its vibrations stirred the female
skeleton.  The right voice added a lot of sexuality.
     "You're hung," she laughed.  She felt the nipples of her big breasts
tighten hard in her wet suit as they burned in rising desire.
     She reached down and felt for the buttons hidden in the robots balls.
His cock expanded at once from the standard six inches to seven, and the
girth also widened.
     "Ohhh," she said.  She worked the button again.  Sam's jabber
expanded once more to eight inches and wider.  Sam was made to please any
female orifice.
     "I've got to get it off," begged Sam.
     "Sure you do!" she laughed.
     She bent her head to stare at the enormous male member.  The color
was perfect, skin slightly darker than the rest of his body.  It was
reddened right now with sex desire, almost purple at the spade-shaped
head.  Realistic purple veins fed "blood" into the muscle to keep Sam
rock-hard.  The skin looked paper-thin with the cock extended.  She'd
worked very hard to get that male prodder just right.  A-C was going to
make it or lose it on the cock of Big Sam and the cunt of Happy Nan, her
female counterpart for Big Sam.
     She jacked off Big Sam with her fist.  He came up on his toes,
grunting happily.  Those micro-circuits, servos and memory units, were so
sensitive that the robot actually FELT pleasure sensations in his cock.
The result was that she, too, grew more excited as she worked the penis
and made him experience pleasure.
     She bent down, took his balls in her hand and sucked the end of his
cock.  She felt a click and he gasped and began to bunt his rod into her
mouth.  His cock tasted of meat, just like it was supposed to.
     "Ahhh, ooooo, ohhhh, good!" he cried.
     It was good for her too.  She was just about out of her mind with
desire, fooling with that big cock.
     "Let's drop your load," she said, blushing and thrilling with the
reality of the robot sex.
     She pulled him to a desk, holding on to his cock and he followed
docilely.  She felt her heart speed up and her cunt burn.  It was the
first real test with her virgin robot.  This time she meant to go all the
way.
     She stripped him and stood him in front of the desk, cock jutting up,
hard and ready, gleaming with preseminal fluid.  His body was fantastic,
with ridges of muscle, the soft plastiskin, the handsome face and the
ripple of his parts.
     Trembling, she slipped out of her one-piece suit and mounted the edge
of the desk in front of him.  Her breathing was fast and light.  Her cunt
had filled with syrup.  Her nipples stretched taut.  Her belly ached.  Yet
she hesitated a moment.  This was the world's first robot fuck.  The clock
said 10:35 a.m.
     She slid her hands around his naked buttocks as she gathered him in
to her belly.  His buttocks felt warm and solid, good in her hands.  She
felt inside of his crack.  His sphincter was his orgasm button.  When a
female wanted a robot to release his flood, light pressure on the sphicter
shot off the spurts.
     In her nervousness, her fingers pressed the sphincter.
     "Hah," went Big Sam.  "HAH!"
     "Oh, nuts!" she said, exasperated.
     His eyes got big.  His face went pink.
     "AHHHHH, GLOREEEEE," he sang bunting in the air with his loins.  He
began to spurt just like a man with spasmodic loops of grey-white jism,
grunting his pleasure as the circuits overloaded and spilled.  The jism
splattered on her naked belly and ran warmly down into her dark pubic
hairs, making her shiver.  It thrilled her to see the cock jerk and
squeeze off those looping liquid darts so realistically.
     She let him grunt off his pleasure in the orgasmic cycle and then
philosophically reset the balls to fill again.  His magazine had ten loads
to activate without refilling.  Premature ejaculation was no problem.  He
was instantly ready to go again, still hard.  If she'd pressed another
button, his cock would've softened and gone into a fifteen minute "wait"
routine.
     She got a towel and cleaned up the starchy smelling jism.  The spent
male juice felt sticky on her skin.  Just like the real stuff.
     She pulled him to her belly again.
     "Ready?" she asked needlessly.
     "I love this," he said.
     She fitted the stiff cock-head into her cunt. She didn't have to do
anything else.  Once the sensors felt the cock-head bury inside a female
organ, the robot began to fuck, as a real male would do.  "OHMIGOD!" she
screamed in ecstasy.
     It thrilled her out of her skull, and was almost painful.  Gasping,
she reached down to reduce the size of that brutally plunging cock. She'd
forgotten and left him at eight inches.
     "Ahhh."
     His prick sank back to six inches, which was comfortable for her.
She wouldn't leave it at that.  She wanted to start out the action with
the normal-sized cock and then as she got hotter she could expand it to
match her expanded vagina.
     The robot hugged her at the hips and fucked into her with long,
luscious cock strokes, crazing her with sex delight.  It felt sooo good!
     "Oh, I'm FUUUUUCKED," she moaned happily.
     At that moment the lab door opened and her boss, the lab director,
Nelson Harper, came in. Rocking in Big Sam's fuck, she could only cling to
the robot and stare at him, her face a mixture of embarrassment and
delight.
     Nelson was an older man, about fifty.  It was always strange to see
that face when her robot wore a younger version of the same face.  His
eyes blinked as he took in the hot scene before him, but he seemed
determined to interrupt.
     "You know the rules, Nancy," he said sternly.
     He walked over to the robot and shut the power off.  She gave a great
sigh and slid off the tension of the plunging prick as Big Sam went still
and lifeless.  She slid off his still-hard prick.
     "Wha . . . what rules, Nelson?" She grabbed for her suit, trying to
hide her nudity.
     "No one in the lab is ever allowed to be alone with a robot, in case
the machine circuits scramble or short.  You could be seriously injured,
even killed."
     "But Nel . . . Nelson." She was still hyped up by the sweet sex
action.  She saw it would reveal too much to try to dress in front of her
boss, so she just held her suit over her nudity.  Sam's big cock carried
the gloss of her sex juices which embarrassed her, and she hoped Nelson
didn't notice that.
     "No exceptions," he said, making his lips thin.
     "Now, how can I give Big Sam the final test with my staff hanging
around, staring?"
     "Don't need the staff.  Just one person.  I'd be the best bet," he
said.
     "You want to play dirty old man," she laughed.
     There was a glint of humor in his eyes.
     "Maybe.  This work is hard enough not to enjoy the sidebars."
     "So turn on the robot.  If you have to voyeur - well, it's
scientific, I guess."
     "Uh, the point of this robot is that his penis detaches," he said.
     "Of course it detaches, Nelson.  If we left it on for married
couples, the guy would never buy it.  Your average guy doesn't want a big,
virile male with a better cock than his around his wife all day."
     "We designed it, furthermore, so that your average husband could wear
the robot cock and enhance his own pleasure, as well as his wife's," said
Nelson.
     "That we did," she agreed.  She felt a thrill in her stomach.  She
knew now what was coming. Nelson had been hot for her ever since she'd
become this project engineer.  She'd been so immersed in her work, she
hadn't realized how much her boss wanted to plug her, with or without the
robot dildo, and the final test was his brilliant chance.
     "Before you try it with the robot, I think we'd better test the penis
alone," he said.  His face was slightly red, his eyes dilated as he stared
at the smooth, silkin limbs of the girl.
     Her eyes met his, showing some shock and some humor.
     "Harps," she said, "You've got a perfectly good wife and, for all I
know, a girl friend on the side, so why are you working on me?"
     "It's not you," he said doggedly.  "It's the president and the board.
They want a full report on the machine and its parts.  They want it quick.
Today's the deadline.  I'm the Lab Director.  When I report, I need to
know exactly how well everything works."
     She sighed.  She was a little annoyed, a little shocked and a little
amused.  She was going to have to open her legs for her boss, wearing Big
Sam's prick.  She let her wet-look suit slide from her body, revealing her
smooth-skinned nudity to him.
     "You'll have to undress," she said.  "It's better if you have an
erection."
     "I have the erection, and I know how to undress," he said, suddenly
affable.  His eyes shone as they danced over the luscious curves of the
young woman's body.  It took him seconds to slip out of his clothes.  His
prick was about normal and very hard.  Embarrassed but dogged, he slipped
the expanded robot prick over his own hard-on and fastened it.  All of a
sudden he was extroardinarily well-hung and they both laughed.
     There was a moment of embarrassment.  The two of them had worked
together for two years, affably as person to person, but there'd been
nothing intimate, except in Nelson's fantasies. He'd never really
approached her if only for the reason that intimacy, even if she accepted,
might corrupt a brilliant working team.  Hers were the concepts, his
contributions were ideas on how to carry them out.
     Now, that no longer mattered.  All that counted was intercourse and
orgasm, so intimacy had suddenly become a part of the job.
     There was nowhere to do it except on one of the desks as she'd done
with Big Sam.  She mounted the desk again, leaned back and slowly,
reluctantly, parted her legs.  Looking up those well-shaped, silken thighs
to the exposed pink of her cunt, Nelson almost died. She was SOOOOO built.
He'd never realized what a clever girl-belly she had.
     He fitted his cock, inside the robot cock, into her cunt, not looking
at her, as she did not look at him.  He shoved his prick into her cunt
slowly, tentatively.  She looked up at the ceiling, eyes roving as her sex
meat was violated.
     "AHHH, GOD!" he went
     They had foreseen that the dildo effect of fake cock-over-cock could
deaden the sweet feeling of cunt invasion.  The answer was simple.  Put
sensors in the robot cock that AMPLIFIED the sensations of friction.  He
felt it now - a mind-dizzying tightness and hotness that almost paralyzed
his shaft with good feeling.
     "Ah, uh."
     He had to stop, it felt so good.  With his cock buried deep in her
cunt, with the amplified good feeling, his real cock throbbed and
throbbed.  He felt for the balls that covered his balls and found the
switch he wanted. Instantly, the sharp, focused feeling in his sex parts
of a wild desire to burst, eased.  The terrific feeling spread out all
through his belly. He could control premature ejaculation now, threatened
by the amplified good feeling.
     "Ohhh, this is weird!" he cried.
     "Is it good?" she asked.
     "Incredible.  I don't feel like I have anything on at all.  Instead I
feel your cunt-walls as tight, wet and smooth as velvet.  Hotter than real
life. But I don't have to throw even if the feeling is super.  I can
FUCK!"
     He suited action to word by drilling in and out of her recklessly.
The hot, crazed feeling of impossible friction mounted inside of him by
leaps and bounds - still he could hold his jism. He laughed happily.
     "I can hold it, enjoy!"
     All his later life he'd had problems with early ejaculations,
especially on those seldom occasions when he took on a younger woman whose
beauty turned him on like fury.  With the machine in charge, he didn't
have to worry.  He could ride her at the pre-orgasm level and thrill and
thrill and not burst until he was good and ready.  The safety factor made
him feel incredibly virile.
     "We just cured half of the males in America of the rabbit syndrome!"
he gasped happily.
     "Oh, that's good.  OH, OH, OH."
     Nancy reveled in the sweetest sex-distress she'd ever felt in her
life.  Her problems in sex came down to one.  She seldom had orgasms. This
was rough for a good-looking, young woman who attracted males.  Her one
short marriage had foundered on this.  The other fabulous men who'd dated
her all faded away when they learned that they couldn't turn her on.
     She was turned on now, and the weird thing was that the machine part
of it was what made her hot.  It was as if she couldn't trust a real-live
male, but introduce that hot, fake cock driven by a real prick inside and
she felt open, eager and vulnerable to the fuck.
     "Ohhhh, Nelson, it does feel soooooo good!" she gasped.
     Big Sam's prick had tricks for the female as well as the male.  It
increased the heat of the sex-lock.  It also set off subtle vibrations
that the male didn't feel but that sunk into the female parts to set all
her sex nerves alive, an idea stolen from old-fashioned vibrators.
     She had meant to be cool and lady-like through all of this operation.
It was, after all, only a part of the job and it wasn't really necessary
for her to come, but merely to judge if the prick would do its job on the
average woman.  A couple of times she'd slid the robot prick in her vagina
for adjustments and thrilled to it.
     That feeling was nothing at all like what she felt now, with a real
rod, plus the amplifying dildo inside of her.  She felt a man's sex organ
as she never had before.  Not only did it outrage her nerves with
exquisite pleasure, but the sex desire penetrated deep into her pink
vagina and seemed to reach the very bone, crazing her with fuck desire.
     She began to plunge on Nelson.
     "Ah, Nelson.  Ho!  Ah, meeee . . . can't stand. Oh, ho.  HO!"
     She dug her pelvis up against his belly and rode like a silly,
helpless little girl straining to get all the delicious candy out of her
agitated and swollen sex box.
     "You bitch!  It turns you onnn," he cried happily.
     "NO!  YES!  OH, OH, WHAT AM I GONNA DO!"
     In just about a minute of hot plunging, he had her fucked out of her
mind - she, the cool one, the girl who had to fake orgasms and who didn't
really care.  She cared very much now. Her body went moist with sweat and
desire. She was totally captured in this new kind of fuck.
     "Oh, Nelson, I'm going - being taken," she blatted, embarrassed, yet
having to respond to the incredible feelings of sex she'd never felt
before.
     "That's . . . uh, AH, the idea, dear."  He was in his own throes of
delicious enjoyment, his cock singing with wild pleasure beyond what he'd
ever felt before.  And he was still locked safely in, which thrilled him
to the limits.  He wasn't going to throw too fast.
     "I . . . I . . . I" she shuttered.  "OH, I . . . WHAT'S GOING TO
HAPPEN?"
     She tried to lift off the desk to flee this awesome new feeling she
had.  Pain, yes, but to be crazed by PLEASURE?  She wanted to faint, she
wanted to jump out of her skin.  She wanted ESCAPE.
     "AHHHHH . . . YEEEEEEEE!" she cried, her voice echoing off the lab
walls.  Her whole body was on fire.
     Then she broke.  They both heard her vagina slog helplessly, giving
up rich rushing of cream from her crazed glands.  Her nipples were on
fire, the rest of her body was in a firestorm of pleasure.
     "AH . . . UH!"
     Eyes staring, mouth drooling, she almost sat up, gave Nelson's cock a
fantastic squeeze and went into the first massive orgasm of her life.
THROB.  THROB.  THROB.  Her aching cunt surrendered with fabulous quakes
of tension-relief and joy.  She went dizzy, into a pink haze of total
animal enjoyment and sex expression. She sucked air into her lungs,
jerking, crying and keening in her totality of giving up her womanhood.
     Nelson, who didn't know her normally cool nature, thought she was the
hottest cunt he'd ever experienced.  He held his breath in wonder,
watching her scrub her face and twist helplessly in her mad orgasm.
     "Well, now," he said happily.  "Well, now."
     Never had he felt so close to a woman as this poor, fucked out girl
who creamed so fully on his cock and got it off so hotly that she went
into a half-faint.  He kept slogging in her, holding his own high burn of
pleasure, while he took her through her sweet throes of surrender. Then
she was a hot, silken doll under him, dazed by her orgasm.
     Laughing in pleasure, he pulled her torso up and began to pillage the
rest of her charms, locked safely away from spilling too soon.  He ate her
big nipples which tried to go soft after her sex explosion but which his
tongue and teeth quickly made erect again.  She had those luscious firm,
yet jelly like tits, and he made full use of them, eating one while he
fondled and caressed the other, losing himself in the hot breast play that
her magnificent twins demanded.
     She began to moan and move on his prick again at this new
stimulation.
     "Don't," she murmured.  "I . . . too tired."
     He couldn't stop.  He wanted for too long to get at this rich, young
female body and pillage it.  Soon he had her fucking again, out of the
sweet use of her sensitive breasts.
     "Oh, Nelson . . . please."
     Her mouth, that sexy, curved, bright and pink orifice.  How many
times had he imagined running a stiff cock over her lips and into that
target of joy.  No sucking today, just kissing.
     He buried his mouth on hers and drove his tongue relentlessly inside.
Her sweet breath, her warm saliva thrilled him, while her recently eaten
tits, still warm and wet with his saliva, worked sexily against his chest.
He felt dizzy, as if he dived down into the pink richness of her body and
controlled everything.
     He hardly had to put any effort at all into his fuck now.  The robot,
on its cunt cycle, did all the work while he got all the pleasure.  But he
was going to go right out of his skull when he released the broadcast
controls that sealed his boiling jism in his body.  Already, he felt a
pleasing itch down below, riding above the incredible friction pleasure.
     He gathered Nancy's body to his and sucked her tongue out of her
mouth into his, while he reveled in her supple, nude flesh hotly plastered
to his own.
     "Rrgghhhh," she protested as he bit her sponge-like wet tongue in
delight and made her take just a small slice of pain to flavor her
pleasure.
     To his astonishment, she locked her pelvis to his belly again and
began her second orgasm. Overwhelmed by the nipple fondling and the French
kisses, she mewed in sweet distress, and got her tongue and mouth loose to
gasp.
     "OH, OH, OH."
     Once again, her seldom-tested loins poured out rich cunt juices to
denote her wild excitement and she tensed to give off new throbs of
submission.  She was one fucked female.
     Even in the heat of the action, Nelson was proud to realize that this
robot-sex could change the age-old operation of the female anatony.
Normally, girls did not spend their juices when they came, except in
seeping gland fluids that might be more highly excited at the time of
orgasm.  This fuck was so great, that the glands were ultimately
stimulated to peak near orgasm, so there was a perceptible increase in
cunt oils that flowed.
     "Nelson, I . . . gone."
     The girl flopped back once more, completely taken and used up, her
eyes dazed, her body soft and moist in helplessness.
     Even with the help of the machine, there were limits to what you
could get from the human body.  Nelson felt it now - a gut-deep sense that
his time had come.
     He locked his cock tight in the passive girl's cunt.  She murmured
and moved uneasily under him.  He felt for the quick release of the robot
cock.  At once the pressure eased.  He almost came at that moment, the
hold-back power of the magic member gone.  But he forced himself to hold.
Then he eased his natual prick out of the cunt.  That left the robot dildo
inside of her.  He slid that out.
     He looked down at his own cock.  It was near a paralysis of good
feeling, and it was purple with desire and excitement.  Carefully, he
reintroduced his swollen prick into Nancy's cunt.  This time there was no
robot prick between them.  The machine had served its purpose.  It was
only his meat and her meat, the way, he thought, the invention would
usually be used.
     He fucked up into her cunt.  The stimulation was no better than the
amplified stimulation from the device, but he was driven by the natural
desire to burst jism into a woman's cunt and impregnate her.
     "AIEEEEE!" he screamed.
     He let it go.  SPURT.  SPURT.  SPURT.
     He almost fainted from the joy and the tension release from this
master of all fucks he'd ever had in his life.  The pleasure was
incredible because he'd been held back just right, without overloading and
now he could burst.  Wham, wham, wham, he went, right on Nancy's womb
wall, keening in crazed delight.
     "OH, BABY.  OH, OH, OH."
     His normal jism throw, at his age, had diminished to about six
inches.  Not this time.  He shot off good twelve inch gushes, creating
back-pressure in her cunt, and his reservoir spumed out twice what it
normally did.
     "OH, SO GREAT!" he yipped in delight.
     He clung to the girl and made her take burst after burst of his seed,
reveling in the best sex he'd had in years.  He felt as if he pitched
boiling come from his toes and scalded her body and, indeed, she jerked as
she felt his hot darts of completion spume in her belly.
     "Aahhhhhhh."
     He faded down in diminishing glory, the euphoria of the after-
spending replacing the wild excitement of his throw.  The whole thing was
a triumph, they were going to change the face of America with these new
robots that added a new dimension to sex.
     Exhausted, he pulled off of Nancy who remained on top of the desk,
legs apart, his semen running from her cunt, a completely fucked-out young
female.
     "Well, we did it, kid," he said.  "The directors will cheer."
     "I knew that as soon as I had come," she managed.  "You, you won't be
spending any more money on Cord Bannister and his Smart Suit in the other
lab, will you?"
     Nelson had forgotten all about his other sex project, of which Nancy
was so jealous.  She wanted all the money and all the attention on Big
Sam.  But the A-C Corporation had more than one shot in its locker.
     "I can't answer that, Nancy.  Big Sam is a triumph.  Nothing can
diminish that."
     Already her head was swelled a little.  "I know you'll have to get
rid of Cord and his stupid Smart Suits," she said, happily stretching on
the desk,  "Nothing can top the work we've done here."



                                Chapter 2

     Cord Bannister had a surprise for America. While the nation went
crazy with the buying and selling of robots and using them in more
mechanical jobs, his research went off in a slightly different direction.
     Cord was the son of a famous biologist at Harvard-West, and when he
brought his project to Nelson Harper, Nelson listened.  The Smart Suit
idea, like the robot idea, was a project whose time had come - which meant
that it should've been invented years ago if most corporations weren't so
frightened of really new advances.
     The A-C board wanted to concentrate on robots - with a difference.
They knew however that even in the sophisticated America of the 1990's
there was going to be some objections to robots that did everything. It
was always possible that machine-enhanced sex might lead them into big
trouble. Therefore, they went along with Nelson and his Smart Suit project
as a hedge.
     There was a real rivalry between Cord and Nancy Lyons, which pleased
Nelson, but he knew he'd have to move carefully in not favoring either.
Cord, thirty two, bright, handsome, virile and aggressive, was an even
match for the woman engineer and if they ever got at each other's throats,
the fur would fly.  So he balanced things carefully.
     Cord had his spies in Nancy's group, just as she had in his group.
That morning Cord got the report that Nancy's lab was cleared and a final
test on Big Sam was under way.
     Cord knew that the president and the board were meeting that
afternoon, so he judged that the robot project was going to be reported as
finished.  It was up to him not to be caught lacking.  He would have to
test his Smart Suit today as well, and force Nelson to carry the news of
its success to the meeting.
     What frustrated him right at the moment was not his invention, but
the human element. Getting the thiing tested.  For that Cord had chosen
Marybelle Fletcher, one of his newest lab assistants, and also the best
looking.  The blonde had a luscious little body, stood five-four and
broadcast waves of unconscious sexuality. The problem was she'd been
married recently, and she just wasn't going to put on a Smart Suit and let
him test the sex results on her.  Yet he was determined that she and no
other would carry the good news to Harper.
     "Marybelle, I want you to put on this lower half of the SS," he told
the girl.
     She looked at what he held out to her, a pair of pantyhose, it
seemed, that was completely transparent.
     "Oh, Mr. Bannister, I couldn't take off my clothes in the lab.  My
husband would never allow that."
     "You put them on," he said patiently.  "Then you put on your jumpsuit
over that."
     "Mr. Bannister, it's lunch time and all the other girls are gone.  I
want to go too.  Could somebody else do it - after lunch?"
     "No," he said firmly.  "It'll only take a minute."
     "But the SS has something to do with sex," she protested.  "My
husband wouldn't . . ."
     Trickery was called for.  It had to be that luscious body, husband or
no husband.
     "The SS does lots of things, Mrs. Fletcher.  It cleans the body with
ultrasonics.  No water required.  It helps you walk - it moves your legs
for you.  The top part broadcasts all kinds of useful stuff to your brain,
keeps you out of trouble, protects your body in accidents."
     "This test . . . doesn't have anything to do with sex?" she asked.
     "Would I ask that of a nice young girl who was recently married and
loves her husband?" he asked sweetly.
     She looked doubtful.  The other girls in Cord's lab had told her that
promotions and raises came fast if you did what the boss wanted. None of
them ever complained that he approached them sexually.  It was probably
all right.
     "Well, if I can have the extra time added to my lunch hour."
     "No problem, Marybelle."
     She went into the Ladies, stripped and slid in the "pantyhose" that
was the bottom part of the Smart Suit.  When the top zipped on, it became
a transparent leotard covering the whole body from shoulders to toes.
Located in the seams were dozens of microcircuits, cleverly hidden and
capable of performing many functions.  All you had to do was to know which
switches to touch.  A human in a Smart Suit was a super person with a five
fold increase in muscle power.  You could walk or run for miles without
fatigue, lift heavy loads, resist any weapon. Sensing attack, it even cut
down the damage of bullets.  It was impervious to fists, knives or
smacking instruments.  You could not be mugged in a Smart Suit.
     It also warmed or cooled the body as desired, cleaned it with
ultrasonics, without water and became an aesthetic pleasure by changing
its colors from transparent through the whole spectrum.  Cord liked to
call it a total environment, because with the top added it broadcast a
series of messages to the brain from tiny information matrices that stored
whole libraries of information.
     Marybelle did not concern herself with all of that as she slipped
into the bottom part.  She thought it looked sexy, adding its transparent
gloss to her skin as if she were wrapped in see-through plastic.
     It fit skin-tight and really showed off her considerable attributes,
fore and aft. Chuckling at her half-shining body, she started to reach for
her clothes when a strange thing happened.  There seemed to be a bunching
of the material between her legs.  Now, activated by some sensor, she felt
a rush of the material right up into her privates, like a snake finding
its nest.
     She gave a gasp as the material peeled right up into her cunt,
protecting that as well.  For an instant she felt a stab of sexuality.
But though she stood frozen, nothing else happened.  In seconds it was as
if material was not forced up inside of her.  It was all right.
Confidently she dressed and returned to the empty lab.
     Cord sat at one of the control panels that dotted the lab, a slight
frown of concentration on his face as he stared off into space.
     "Uh . . . I've got it on," she reported.
     "Oh, yes, Marybelle."  He acted as if he'd forgotten she were there.
He picked up a small black box attached to a cord and looped it around her
neck like a necklace, the box hanging like a pendant at her throat.
     "You understand that in normal operation the suit runs itself," he
told her.  "Here in the lab I broadcast signals to it through that
computer control on your neck.  If you had the top of the SS on, you
wouldn't need that."
     She nodded and he told her he wanted to try out some standard tests.
The first one was to make the suit walk for her.  He tapped some controls
and the legs of the suit carried her down the lab without any effort on
her part.
     "Fantastic!" she cried.  "It's just like floating. I don't have to do
anything at all."
     He walked her back towards him and turned on the ultrasonics cleaner.
She felt a slight vibration from her hips down; suddenly she knew the
lower part of her body was CLEAN, as if she'd stepped sparkling from the
shower. Somewhere near the ankle a small vent discharged almost
unnoticeable puffs of dry powder.
     "That's terrific!" she said.
     It was the first time she'd had on even a part of the SS which she
began to like.  She skipped around the lab, letting the thigh and calf
action of the SS do the walking for her.  It was a glorious feeling of
being able to skim over the ground without any effort at all.
     The lab was almost one hundred feet long with work benches for tiny
electronics parts, molders, trimmers, outlets for gas, air and water, and
great rolls of duroplast, the transparent, silky material used in the SS.
She flowed through the aisles, humming happily. She learned at once that
if she moved her legs faster, the suit helped her walk faster.  If she
slowed down, there was a second of resistance and then the sensors of the
suit slowed it down to the pace she wanted.  That part alone sold her on
Cord's invention.
     Suddenly Marybelle felt the control of her legs taken away from her
as Cord punched some buttons and the legs of the suit made her march back
to where he sat at the control panel.  It was that little black box he'd
hung around her neck.
     She felt uneasy about this, but he smiled a disarming smile and said:
"I just want to show you how the suit protects you."
     He clenched a fist and took a terrific swipe at her belly.  She
gasped and winced as she saw the awesome blow coming.  The suit was
quicker.  Acting with nanosecond speed, it shot out energy to protect the
wearer.  The fist never landed.  Deflected, the fist shot off to one side
almost pulling Cord from his chair.  He laughed at the expression on her
face as she felt only a light tap where the blow might've landed.  It was
hardly a finger flick.
     "Fantastic!" she breathed.
     He grabbed a two foot long metal rod and tried to spank her full
force across her rounded buttocks.  The blow never landed.  The rod shot
to one side and flew from his hand at the sudden deflection.  Again she
felt only a slight tap on her rear.
     Growling, he seized a knife and tried to stab her right in the belly.
She screamed.
     The tip of the knife broke as the suit reacted and her leg, driven by
the suit, not her, kicked out and sent the knife flying high in the air.
Once again, she felt nothing.
     "You see?" he said.
     "Oh, Mr. Bannister, this is truly a great invention."
     "There's plenty more."
     He punched another button and worked a rheostat.  Instantly Marybelle
felt her body relax.  Her mind seemed to turn to flowing honey, euphoric
and pleased.  Cord was her best friend in the world.  The lab was the
greatest place on earth to be right now.
     She felt hot in her clothes.  She had to take them off.  She didn't
want to, exactly but she HAD to.  Off came her blouse, while she stepped
out of her boots and slacks, reducing herself to her panties, her bra,
and, of course, the gleam of the SS pantyhose.
     "I . . . I . . ." she went.
     She felt so confused.  It felt great to take off, her clothes.  It
was important to take off her clothes.  Yet a resisting part of her told
her she shouldn't strip in front of her boss.
     "Don't you think I'm good looking?" she said. "Don't you think I'm s-
s-sexy?"
     She turned around displaying her body.  She wanted to stop displaying
herself in this bawdy fashion, but she wanted to get more of that honey
cream feeling, too.
     "I'll bet you want to f-f-fuck me," she stammered.
     It was a word she NEVER used, a shocking word she wouldn't even let
her hot, loving husband use.  Yet the instant she said it, things
happened.  Something came alive between her legs, up in her cunt.  She
felt a glorious warmth spread to her sex parts, making her juices flow and
her cunt swell.  She felt hot, sexed up.
     "I . . . I . . . I . . ."
     "The bra, Marybelle," said Cord.
     "Oh, I cou . . . cou . . . not," she went.
     She knew it was that black box at her neck. She tried to lift it off
of her neck, but her hands deflected.  Instead they scrambled to her bra
catch and she unhooked the bra.  She exposed her full, naked breasts to
Cord, standing there pigeon-toed like a confused, helpless little girl.
Her hands went up to cup those gorgeous twin mounds, which were hard-
nippled, and presented them to Cord.  She blushed.  She felt tremors of
hot desire all through her body.
     "The panties, Marybelle."
     "The panties," she gasped.  She wanted to scream "NO!".  She wanted
to turn and run from the lab and the staring man.  But the sweet honey
excitement inside of her was too powerful.  She slipped off her panties,
revealing her pink, wet cunt under a thatch of blonde pubic hairs.
     "Put your hand down below and make yourself feel good, Marybelle,"
said Cord.
     She had to do it.  Her hand slid over the glossy, transparent suit
and fondled inside of her cunt.  At once she locked her legs on her finger
and thrilled as she rubbed her clitoris through the suit material.
     "Do you ever masturbate, Marybelle?"
     "NO, NEVER," she cried.
     "Well, maybe now's a good time to learn," he said.  He gave the
direct order.  "I want you to excite yourself as far as you can."
     It was fantastic.  She'd never felt so sexed up in her life.  She
used one and then two fingers inside of her cunt, her heart pumping in
excitement, reveling in displaying her sexuality to this forbidden man and
yet shamed that she wanted to do it.
     She arched up her loins and moaned in deep pleasure as her belly
caught fire.  She knew the suit did something to her sex parts.  The
sleeve that had wormed up into her cunt provided a hardness and a slight
motion just like - just like - well, a COCK!  Her fingers added pleasure.
     "Ah," she went.  "Oh, hah!"
     Cord thought she was the sexiest sight he'd ever seen.  Her rounded,
blonde body was a fabulous thing to behold.  Her high, perfect tits were
bold in exposure and red with excitement, nipples flexed hard.  Her soft,
graceful torso showed a fast beating heart above her belly.  Her abdomen
was ever so slightly swelled, suggesting loin richness of a nubile female.
Her V was exquisite, as were her tapered thighs and legs.  Add a pretty,
if not intelligent, face up above with an incredibly shapely little ass
down below and she was a rich little fuck animal - there was no other way
to say it.
     He got up from his chair to take off his pants and relieve his aching
hard-on.  He slid out of his shorts so that he wore only his socks and
short white lab coat.  He was a little dizzy now with desire to plunge
into that rich body and pillage her charms.
     He sat back down in the chair which did not have arms.
     "Come here, Marybelle."  He touched a control.
     Her legs did not move.  The suit moved her legs as she came to stand
before him, red-faced in excitement and embarrassment, her fingers still
hooked under her pelvic ridge as commanded.
     He pulled her fingers away.  "We'll try something else," he said.  He
could not help teasing her a little.  Marybelle belonged to that group of
rich-bodied, sex capable young women who constantly denied their sexuality
and insisted they were nice girls with never a carnal thought in their
heads while all the time they screwed their brains out with some guy.  If
they were honest and admitted that they turned guys on and turned
themselves on, he wouldn't have minded.  He hated hypocrisy.
     "I think you want me to fuck you, Marybelle," he told her.  He pulled
her to his lap where his big cock jutted up, hard and hungry.
     "Oh, no, I . . . I WANT TO FUCK," she wailed.
     "At last, reality," he smiled.
     He pulled her unresisting body onto his lap, relishing the body heat
of the sexed-up girl.  He fitted his prick to her cunt, protected by the
sleeve of the suit, and fucked up into her body. She oozed down on his
cock gasping as he penetrated deep into her vagina.
     "Oh, I . . . Ohhhhh," she gasped.
     He dug hands into her soft nude flesh, enjoying the feel of total
girl.  How many times had he fantasized this moment?  She was just too
luscious for men to resist such thoughts. Her hot cunt felt fabulous along
his prick.  Her wetness seeped through the porous sleeve as it was
supposed to, and it lubricated his member with sweet girl juices.  He held
her buttocks, slick and contained in the plastic, and gave himself over to
the divine pleasure of driving his tight-held rod in and out of her belly.
     The sleeve did its part.  It flashed hot signals to all her interior
pleasure nerves, making her quiver with desire and joy.  She could not
help rocking up and down on this alien and forbidden prick.
     "Uuuuu . . . so deeeep in meeeee," she gasped.
     The sleeve had something for the male too. Cocks reacted well to
varying pressures.  There were subtle, sexy changes by the sensors to
thrill his penis with different friction tensions. It would tighten to
slow him up and half craze him with cunt resistance.  It would losen to
make him fuck faster to keep the high fire raging.  It also monitored her
clitoris to make sure the pressure was steady and demanding.
     Cord ran his hands up Marybelle's smooth naked back and brought her
torso forward as he began to ravage her glorious tits.  As he bit and
sucked her hard nipples she squirmed and cried, "CAN'T STAAAAAND . . ."
     She broke.  In her confused, creamy condition, with all inhibitions
removed by the suit, she had already thrilled to her ultimate erotic
limit.  The shock, pleasure and wildness of sitting in her boss's lap and
being thoroughly fucked by him sent her into a pleasure overload.  The
suction on her tits was the last straw.
     "HOOOOOOOOOO!" she cried in ecstasy and gave up her womanhood.
     Cord felt her come with powerful girl thuds along her vagina.  She
clutched him for dear life, that hot, supple body grinding to his and gave
up her womanhood with luscious throbs of submission.  He felt it clear up
in his belly.  He kept up the stabbing, rocking fuck to stimulate her
through her joyous run, hugging her tight and eating one tit.
     "Uuuuuuuu," she mumbled, jerking and throbbing in delicious joy until
her nerves could flash no more messages of good feeling.
     She went limp for a few moments.  She existed in a purple world of
total physical joy that was so different from her prior sex experience
that it was like being a different person.  All her life Marybelle had had
a strong sex drive.  Her parents, seeing her beauty and her growing
sexuality, had lectured her long and earnestly on morals and the need to
restrict her love.
     In her encounters with men she always had to feel that love sensation
that was sometimes hard to maintain when there was a hungry bitch animal
to be satisfied, under the niceties. Only when she was drenched with love
phrases was she able to let go.
     This time the decision was not hers.  The suit decided all.
Therefore she had no obligation to search for love or other excuses.  Her
animal body seized the luscious sex sensations and went to town.  She
almost fainted from the power of her first orgasm.
     "That's one, baby," he said softly.  "Shall we try for two?"
     He reached under to touch the control that retracted the suit sleeve
from out of her cunt. Another control opened it so he could expose her
naked flesh while he pressed the sleeve back out of the way in her crack.
     He fucked up into her natural cunt with a grunt of pleasure.  Now it
was bare cock and bare cunt, fucking.  Even in his cleverest design
moments Cord realized that the sleeve could only be a stimulant but that
for finishers people wanted naked cock against naked cunt.
     Surprisingly, it didn't feel quite as good as with the sleeve,
proving he'd done a fantastic job.  But it was more satisfying to drill
the girl this way.  She was plenty hot, tight and wet.
     "Oh, oh, baby, you are one luscious fuck."
     "I . . . I . . ."
     She was what a man always wanted in the final joyous throes of sex, a
hot witch belly thrusting and pulling on his cock without a messy ego to
babble, scold, lie or distract from the hot animal contact.
     He pulled her body back against his only this time he let those full
breasts ride on his chest while he sought her mouth.  Wet, rich lips
parted like ripe petals to admit his male, questing tongue.  His tongue
explored her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, the roof of her mough.  He
kissed and sucked on that wet orifice, thrilling her and himself with the
wild kisses, sucking her saliva, grabbing her tongue to chew on it and
make her whine.
     Down below he fucked into her with long, luscious strokes that sent
him half out of his mind.  All her richness and ripeness, all her wetness
and vulnerability was his.  He especially wanted to lay his gouts of male
seed deep in her loin mass in some defiance against her monotonous,
overdone lectures about her love for her husband and her faithfulness.
     It came as he drove his tongue once more into her mouth, soft and
weak from his assault.  His cock thrilled to the limit and he felt the
exquisite, impossible moment when his body lost all voluntary power and
swept to orgasm. There was the gasping moment of stillness and extreme
ecstasy as the orgasmic fist rolled out its pleasure over all muscles.
Then he spurted.
     Wham, wham, wham.  Leaping gushes of jism burst in her cunt as he
seeded her at last, feeling the wild joy down to his toes.  No true male
could be around a girl like this, so made for fucking, without wanting the
final release of burning her womb wall with his seed.  He let it spume in
magnificent joy and relief, holding her tight to take it all.  She whined
and quivered - began her own orgasm, her second, which surprised him.  The
suit had really set her up.  But it was his own pleasure he pursued now.
He held her ripe little butt and shot it all off, aware that his cock had
rubbed against her pink, shiny uterus as he seeded her.
     "Uh, uh, uh . . . you . . . greatest," he grunted in dizzy delight.
     She moaned and her vagina thudded against his shaft like a silken
glove as she throbbed off her own ecstasies.  My God, how could a woman
who was supposed to be fucked out and completely possessed by a new
husband come like this?  Her body seemed hungry to be cock-lashed, even
starved.
     "Taaaaa-two," he gasped counting her second orgasm.  She merely
quivered, jerked and sucked off the last of his majestic spurts, squeezing
her own delight on his prick.
     Glowing, euphoric, Cord rose and carried her to the nearest flat lab
table.  He spread a towel and laid her on it.  She seemed as dazed and
passed out as a drunk.  She made a few happy sounds in her throat, but her
eyes wandered, unfocused.
     He replaced the sleeve to clear her vagina, which it quickly did,
turning his jism into dust and passing it down to be expelled.  She was
clean again.
     He stared at her, lovely in her nude, relaxed euphoria.
     "Marybelle, something tells me you've never really run out your
entire orgasmic potential."
     He reached down and activated the sleeve inside of her cunt.  It
began to imitate a cock, stiffening and sliding in and out of her vagina.
Far from being distressed by the continuous sex action, she gasped in
pleasure and began to undulate her loins.
     Well, it was part of the test.  He dried off his cock of her
delicious and pungent cunt oils with the corner of the towel and watched
her rise to her third orgasm, thrashing her butt this way and that on the
table, her hands rubbing down her thighs, but not invading her box.  She
didn't need to masturbate.
     "Ah, I . . . so hot . . . so high . . . looooove it," she crooned.
     It was delightful to watch the SS fuck the girl.  She twisted and
writhed in absolutely graceful arcs and motions, locked in her special
world of pleasure.  From time to time she lifted her round rear to strain
upwards for the beginning of her third culmination.  Then she would fall
back to writhe some more.  The intervals got shorter.
     His buzzer rang.  It was Nelson Harper.
     "You left a message to see me, Cord?  I've been . . . uh . . . busy
in the other lab."
     I'll bet you have, thought Cord.  You're plotting some presentation
for the Board with that sexy bitch engineer, Nancy Lyons and her stupid
robot.
     "Got a hot test going with the SS," Cord told Nelson.  "I think you'd
better come to my lab right away."
     "It's lunch time, you know."
     "I think you'll enjoy this better than lunch," said Cord.
     Nelson came into the lab and stopped frozen. He'd arrived just at the
moment that Marybelle strained up and reached her third orgasm, crying
out, "OHHHH, I'M FUCCCCCKED!"
     She paid off her girlhood to the suit with hot gasps and lunges of
her swivel hips.
     Nelson blanched.  "Why, that's the Fletcher girl, the one who . . ."
     "She's been recently married and is crazy about her new husband,"
said Cord calmly.
     "But you . . . she . . . should you . . ."
     "This is her third orgasm and she loves it."
     Nelson clamped his mouth shut.  He had implicit faith in Cord
Bannister.  Besides, the sight was awesome.  The blonde girl was a real
beauty, and to see her in her sex throes, the lower part of her body
glistening in the SS, was a real thrill.  His cock thickened at once.
     After a moment he asked, "Can't she hear us?"
     "Think of a drug high," said Cord.  "The person knows everything
that's going on, but the consciousness is altered.  They see reality
differently from normal life.  She's on a sex high just now.  We're
running out her orgasm potential.  This is only her third."
     "How . . . many?"
     "Eight, ten, who knows.  This is one highly sexed female."
     "You can say that again," said Nelson. Despite his hot sex with Nancy
not so long before, his prick was rock hard in his pants.  "I don't
suppose we could help her?"
     "Sure, Nelson, if you want.  It doesn't matter how she reaches those
orgasms, by the suit or some other way."
     "I-I," stuttered Nelson, blushing.  He was on fire to touch the
blonde.
     Cord moved out cooly from behind the table. Nelson saw he wore only
his lab coat, was naked down below.  His manhood was half-hard.
     "Watch this,' said Cord.
     He stood behind Marybelle's head on the table. He eased it back so it
hung down from the edge. He slid his half-hard cock into her mouth.  She
sucked on it eagerly, immediately plastering it with rich saliva.  Her
hands below stroked her thighs as the suit worked her for her fourth
orgasm.
     "My God," said Nelson.
     "Be my guest," said Cord, waving a hand.
     In seconds Nelson had stripped and they positioned the girl so that
he could walk into her V and introduce his cock into her cunt.  He slid
his blade between those glistening thighs, found her nest and shoved.
     "AHHHH!" Nelson went.
     "Ohhhh," cried Marybelle.  She locked her legs around Nelson's hips,
pulling him close.
     He closed his eyes in ecstasy and began to fuck into her.  "Always
wanted - seeing her in the halls - fabulous body . . ."
     "It's all necessary . . . OH . . . in the interests of the project,"
said Cord.  He gave a low moan of joy as he fed his now-stiff cock,
gleaming with soft saliva into the girl's mouth. She sucked it eagerly.
     For her it was in incredible world that she couldn't believe existed.
For the first time ever in her life Marybelle felt free and open to
express her deep sex needs to the limit.  After Cord first plunged his
prick into her she ceased to resist.  She enjoyed the first two orgasms
and found herself pushed into a magic world where she had only to indulge
her body, hungry for this wild freedom she'd never dared to approach
before.  She'd forgotten all about her husband, her position in the lab,
her fears and inhibitions.  It was a fabulous high to be so open and
animal, without having to sing about love or worry that she might repulse
her lover by being too lascivious.
     "Ah, ah, ah," she cried happily, losing Cord's cock for a moment.  It
seemed utterly natural to her that she should find two pricks thrusting
into her body - that was what it was for.  She loved the meat taste of
Cord's rod and she loved the sweet friction of Nelson's member down below.
     "Hey," said Nelson.  "This sleeve inside of her - makes its better."
     "Of course."
     "I . . . heeee . . . ohhhh . . . maybe come too soon . . ."
     Cord showed him the proper tiny button.  At once Nelson felt a
thickness in his loins from the sleeve, preventing him from premature
ejaculation.  The feeling was the same as with the robot cock, the
principle was the same.
     "Oh, Cord, we're going to make millions!" sang Nelson happily.
     "I suppose you tested the robot."
     "Works great.  Ahhhh."
     "I want in on that meeting this afternoon," said Cord.  "I don't want
to be washed out by that big, dumb machine."
     Nelson held the rounded, soft hips of the girl and fucked deeply into
her cunt, feeling her twist and moan in delight at his prick.
     "Sure, Cord.  Anything.  Ohhhh!  Anything you want!"
     Nelson was on his own delicious high.
     Cord was fascinated now with his cocksuck. By holding the girl's head
a certain way, over the edge of the table, he had almost a straight shot
past her mouth into her throat.  He thrilled, held his breath and put his
hand on the soft length of her white throat.  Then he bunted right past
her gag point and down her pink tunnel.
     The cock went deeply into her throat, her mucoid walls thick to his
shaft, hot and wet and sexy.  He imagined his hand on her throat felt his
cock through her soft flesh.  It was wild.
     He dared not hold it for long - the poor kid had to breathe - but he
concentrated now on whipping his cock up to fury.  She was right with him,
sucking, licking, tonguing and biting, driving him higher and higher
towards throw pleasure.
     "Oh, baby, you'll have a great second load inside," he moaned.
     Both men broke at once.  Nelson felt the deep warmth in his belly as
too much to hold back mechanically.  He released the sensor on the sleeve.
He strained forward holding the girl's belly to his.
     "NOW!" he cried.
     "OH, GOOONE," sang Cord at the same time.  Her wounding teeth had
nibbed the rich nerves at his cock head beyond his control.  He strained
just as Nelson did.  He went dizzy with delight, shoved his prick deep in
Marybelle's throat and let go.
     Spurt, spurt, spurt.  At the same time, he felt her body jerk as she
took Nelson's spuming glory shots.  It was a good thing that he had deep-
throated the girl, because the double explosion in her body triggered her
fourth orgasm.  She could hardly make any sound because her throat was
filled with bursting cock but she twisted up in utter ecstasy and Nelson
called, "She . . . going."
     Cord gave a humorless laugh of relief, against Nelson's satisfied
animal grunts, and the girl's gurgles.  Hot sperm shot into her body to
delight the two men who had so long desired to target her.  She reached
the ultimate heaven of her sexual limits, never reached before.  Her cunt
throbbed, her belly expanded and contracted, her buttocks tensed and
untensed in run after run of pure bitch joy.  She was made for fucking,
she DID have a heavy duty sex system.  She flew right out in space with
exquisite pleasure glazing every nerve in her body, throbbing, succumbing.
     Even as the two men finished and her own cunt runs tapered, she knew
she would never complain about or reveal this double adultery. It was a
new, secret and magic world that she wanted to keep to herself, sharing
only with her boss and Nelson.  It was the living end!



                                Chapter 3

     The men politely covered Marybelle with a couple of large lab towels
and left her on the table, since she seemed to be dazed and dozing. As
they dressed, Cord quizzed Nelson about the Nancy Lyons project and the
Big Sam robot. Nelson told him what had happened with the machine, how it
worked and what it did, giving, of course, an expurgated version of his
own happy test.  Nelson also told Cord that he would give a good report on
the Smart Suit. Cord should close his lab as Nancy had done and stand by
in case the Board wanted him to appear in person.  Then they adjourned for
a late lunch.
     "Are you okay?" Cord asked Marybelle, still laid out on the table
like some kind of corpse.
     Eyes closed, she nodded and murmured.  "Go on.  I'll be all right."
     The men left and the lab fell silent.
     Marybelle was temporarily exhausted physically, but her mind was busy
at work. She'd heard all that Nelson had said about the sex robot.
     Now, she yawned and sat up.  In some ways she felt better than she
could ever remember, which surprised her.  In fact she felt different than
she'd ever felt in her life.  It had to do with sex.  Until this moment,
she'd considered herself prim, undersexed and somewhat afraid of erotic
experience.  The calloused way Cord and Nelson had used her in the name of
testing the SS should've sent her screaming to her husband and the Morals
Police.
     She did not feel that way at all.  She felt a huge, inner delight
with the four orgasms.  In fact, she knew she could even have more and
enjoy them.  She resented what her boss had done; yet she could not deny
the vast inner delight that had been inadvertently exposed.
     "I've lived a lie!" she said suddenly aloud in shock.  Then she
smiled at the serious tone of her voice.
     Yet it was true.  Her parents, her teachers, her friends, even her
lovers, few as they were, had constantly warned her about her sexuality
and freted over it.  Was it possible that with her good looks and deep sex
drive she was a threat to THEM?  THEY didn't want her to let go, because
their sexuality was lesser.  Not that she was a nympho, but she'd always
been a little held back.  Even the two or three sex bouts per night with
Donald left her feeling that somehow there ought to be more.
     Well, she'd just discovered that MORE with the Smart Suit, despite
the outrageous way it had come about.  Cord had said that she might have
ten orgasms in a row.  She'd heard about multiple-orgasm women, but they'd
seemed remote from her life.
     "I'm one of them," she said positively.  "I want more."
     Men with their more limited capacity, and society, preached keeping a
lid on sex.  What if you had a physical body that really wanted and needed
more?
     Marybelle found her clothes and dressed, realizing that she was not
the same person she'd been an hour or so ago.
     She walked from Cord's wing to the next lab, the robot lab and the
domain of Nancy Lyons. There was almost nobody around.  It was the tail
end of the lunch hour, but today routines were disrupted by the big Board
meeting.  In fact there was a sign on the robot lab door:
     EVERYONE IS EXCUSED TO GO HOME AT NOON DUE TO BOARD MEETING.
     SEE YOU TOMORROW.
     Nancy Lyons' name was scrawled on the bottom . . .  Having heard the
two men discuss the robot, Marybelle tried the big double doors, found
them open and peered into the robot lab.
     It was gloomy with the lights out - vastly intriguing.  She looked
behind her in the hall. There was absolutely nobody around at the moment.
She slipped inside the lab, staring around curiously.  She'd never been in
this wing.
     It was much like the SS lab in size, but the rest was different.
Robot parts were stacked eveywhere.  There were arms, legs, heads,
partially constructed humanoid figures and endless benches of electronic
parts, the same chips and miniature memory units the SS lab used.
     Suddenly, she saw a naked man and froze in shock.  Then she realized
it was Big Sam, the robot her boss and Nelson had discussed. Curious, she
marched up to the machine.  She stared at the silent figure, and felt the
shock of sexuality sweep up her belly.
     He was fantastic!  He looked a little like Nelson, yet the face was
young and handsome. What really thrilled her was his loin mass, a fabulous
male butt and muscular thighs, and still jutting up in a hard-on position,
a magnificent cock.
     "Man, you're hung!" she exclaimed, thrilled and startled.
     "Thank you," he said in a deep, pleasing voice with a slight bow of
his head.
     She jumped back, laughed and then went closer.  She could see he'd
been left in LOW.
     "Do you want to make love?" he asked.  With his penis erect, he was
in the seduction mode.
     "Maybe," she laughed.
     He smiled and held out his arms.
     Her heart began to pound.  What if . . . what if . . . she turned to
go.  No, she'd better not. Her eye fell on a manual.  SEX MODES A-C ROBOT
Instruction Manual.
     She grabbed it up, stared at the robot then quickly went to the
double doors and shot the lock from the inside.  The company owed her
something.  Nelson owed her something.  Why not have a little fun?
     After she'd necked a little with polite kisses and caressing, she
found her cunt swelling and wetting and felt an almost impossible thrill
inside.  The manual was explicit and easy to follow and Big Sam was quite
the gentleman, at least on low power.  She initiated all actions, he
responded.
     Fascinated, excited, she stripped to the buff. Maybe she'd go for a
little naked kissing and fondling, even put his big dong inside of her
once, just to see what he felt like.  She felt pretty hot now.  She
skimmed the manual.
     CAUTION: MAKE SURE GOVERNOR IS OPERATIVE AT ALL TIMES, EXCEPT WHEN
ROBOT DOES HEAVY MANUAL WORK.
     She understood that.  Robot strength used in heavy work could be
dangerous.  She checked the armpit port and saw that the red painted
governor was indeed in place.
     Naked, she stood close to the robot, ran her hands down his smooth,
muscular back and up on those powerful buttocks and thrilled.  Why, he was
just as sexy as a well-built man, delightful to the touch, warm, real.  He
murmured encouragement.
     Breathing fast now, she reduced the size of his prick, bent it down
and pressed her belly to his.  The robot cock dug into her excited cunt,
sending huge thrills up her backbone.
     "You've got it!" she gasped.
     "Thank you," he said politely.
     She wiggled and took about three inches of cock inside of her.
     "HA!" she went.  "HA!"
     Intense shocks of delight flooded her belly. She was still sexed-up
from what the men had done to her in the other lab.
     She went on her tiptoes and eased the cock out.  She looked around.
There was a low table with the inevitable lab towels on it.  She caught
Big Sam by the arm and walked him over to it.
     "We'll have to do it!" she said, heart pumping fast.
     "I'm ready," he said.
     She did not want to be under that powerful machine so she instructed
him to get on the table on his back, and then she mounted his hips and
straddled his cock.  Staring down at his fabulous body, she impaled
herself on his prick, sinking down to an exquisite heaven.
     "Oh, SAM, you're fucking meee!" she cried softly.
     "Love it." said Sam.  Then he grunted realistically as he bunted up
into her cunt with that marvelous prick.
     She quickly found that she controlled events by the speed of her
movements.  The faster she rocked on his rod, the faster he moved.  When
she slowed down, he paused a second and then slowed down also.  She
reached down and expanded his prick.  It went to seven inches, really
filling her excited vagina and frictioning hotly on her clit.  It was
perfect.
     "Oh, I want it . . . want it . . . can't get enough," she sang
happily.  What could be better than a machine that served but left no
traces.  He would not be on the phone tonight, or bothering her when she
was trying to work.  A-C had a million dollar idea, that was for sure.
     She leaned forward on his solid body and began to kiss that sexy
mouth, then transferred his expertise to her aching nipples.  He was a
fantastic lover.  Soon she was covered with sweat and crazy for orgasm, as
she was wearing the SS.
     Just the same, she held the pace even, frustrating herself to make
her final submission stronger.  Her desire to be taken to glory grew and
grew as she whined and twisted.
     "Oh, Sam, I want . . . I want . . ."
     "You're a fantastic lover."
     She felt the powerful masculine thrust of his working buttocks,
enjoying his involvement and then reached into his crack to expend him as
the book said.
     "AHHHHH, HEAVENNNNNN!" cried Sam.
     He froze just like a man, strained up.  His eyes got big.  His whole
body trembled in ecstasy.  Then he burst his cock into her cunt, spurt,
spurt, spurt.
     "Ohhh, wheeee," she gasped as he flooded her.  The burn in her cunt
was impossible now. She jerked and twisted.  She humped a few more
strokes, whined, and gave up her womanhood to the machine.  Throb, throb,
throb.  It was absolutely as good as her husband.  She spent fully and
completely, reveling in her new openness and understanding of her own
powerful sexuality which might even approach the machine's.
     She worked it all off, enjoying Sam's slow, steady fucking as he took
her through her orgasm until she tapered.
     Back on her sex high, as earlier, she un-cocked Sam and sat up to
look around the lab dazed.  It was empty, silent.  No one had come to the
door to enter.  The employees had no desire to linger when there was a
free half day off.
     Just one more, maybe.  Her cunt felt almost satisfied now, and she
thought if she could just run one more turn she'd have finally used up all
of her wonderful, deep erotic treasure, never fully spent before.
     She rested only for a few moments and then resumed on Sam.  The
trouble was, it was harder now to go for that final orgasm.  After five
completions her cunt still burned and her belly was hungry but her muscles
had tired. She had to ride the robot very fast to get the same glow she'd
had before.  Sweat poured between her breasts, down her body.  It was
getting like work, yet she wanted that final ride.
     Her tiring muscles made her slow.  Sam slowed too.  She realized now
that the woman controlled the robot at all times.  He could not go faster
than she went.
     "Oh, Sam, you have to do better."
     "I'm trying hard."
     She gave a snort of disgust, pushed his arm wide and went for the
armpit port.  Her fingers scrabbled on the red painted governor, but she
couldn't get it off.  Then she found the spring clip, tripped it, and the
governor flew off and fell on the floor below.
     "Now, Sam, YOU do the work," she laughed.
     His arms came up, hugged her.  She raced her belly on his cock to
start him going.
     "DO IT MAN!" she cried.
     Sam did it.  He began to drill her, faster, faster.  She began to
thrill, relaxing.  She didn't even have to move her loins now.  Sam did it
all.
     "Fuck me!  FUCK!" she cheered him on, laughing.
     He grunted in his exertions, his eyes big. Faster and faster plunged
his cock.
     "Oh, now that's REALLY doing it," she gasped in wonder.
     The thrills were hot and fast now, and she felt crazy new rushes in
her belly.  No man had ever frictioned her so relentlessly and tirelessly.
     She hugged the machine, closed her eyes and worked her loins fast to
see if she could drive Sam to greater efforts.  She was successful.  The
machine whipped into her with astonishing speed and felt, to her, like
superhuman passion. Against that fierce friction, her cunt gave up
luscious oils in a rich flow she'd never been called upon before to
produce.  Her clit received steady, furious action.
     She began to sweat heavily, going dazed and dizzy.  But the wildness
of the experience lifted her far above the slight discomfort.  For the
first time she was pressed all the way to the limits of her rich erotic
being, and held there.
     "I'm going to feel THIS!" she cried happily.
     It seemed like all of her nerves throughout her body began to fuse
into one aching, pleased clitoris or sex-nerve, making her tremble and
whine with exquisite feeling.
     "Faster, faster," she gasped.
     Sam couldn't go any faster.  There was a limit even to what machine
speeds could do.  But he could hold on for minutes, hours, at this pace.
     "Ah, ah, ah," she grunted.  Her whole belly was a sheet of white hot
joy-flame.  She transcended all normal feelings, living in a new world of
aching, luscious passion, her body finally completely controlled and
dominated.
     "YOU DID IT!" she shrieked, feeling the piercing penetrating rush of
her orgasm. Somehow Sam had fucked through her to the tender, vulnerable
center of her being and she was going to enjoy the ultimate orgasm.
     "NOWWWWW," she gasped, slobbering.
     THROB, THROB, THROB.  She went into a half-fainting euphoria, feeling
that she scoured to the bottom of her being and paid off all the sex
treasure her rich body contained for the first time in her life.
     As she reached the peak of her gorgeous cunt squeezes, she managed to
reach into Sam's crack and press his come button.  At once the fast action
stopped, he strained up in a trembling freeze and delivered hot chunks and
darts of body-hot male flame into her cunt, just as she slobbered,
slurped, gasped and grunted into her own orgasmic splendor.  In those few
seconds, she realized what it meant to be fully alive for the first time
in her life.  Then her body revolted, she tapered and with muscles aching,
she expired on top of the stilled robot.
     "Love it, oh, LOVE IT!" she sighed happily.
     She had sweated so hard, her body was slippery on top of his.  For
gorgeous moments she rested on top of her conquest, or was she his?  She
glowed as she floated in post-orgasmic pleasure in the cream, feeling of
total sexual fulfillment.  She was right.  People had laid a hard trip on
her, so until today she never really knew what total sex could be like.
Bless Cord Bannister and Nelson for opening this majestic new vista for
her!
     She dozed for perhaps twenty minutes on top of the machine and then
reluctantly got up and restored him to his place and set him on LOW. She
dressed and left the lab feeling like a new woman.  She was hungry and it
was time for lunch . . .
     Cord Bannister and Nancy Lyons glared at each other as they waited
for the end of the Board meeting in an anteroom of the Conference Center.
So far neither had been called, and it didn't look like they would be.
     "If A-C puts all its money behind your robots, the company will be
broke inside of two years," said Cord.  "People won't accept machine sex."
     "They'll make a fortune.  People are always trying to turn themselves
into machines, or imitate machines.  They set up rituals and try for high
performance just like machines. People build machines to learn from them
and increase their power.  Then, they build better machines which teach
them better things, and so on.  Why not to improve sex?"
     "The moralists will stop it."
     "How many moralists are left in the 1990's?" she answered.  "As long
as we don't flaunt the sex function of our robots, nobody will stop it."
     "I won't go to bed with a machine." said Cord.
     "People go to bed every night with less than a machine, and love it."
     Cord grunted, and turned away.  This dumb, half-assed girl engineer
was impossible.  Give her her good looks, there wasn't much else.
     "What people won't do," said Nancy evenly, is dress up in your
quaint, little plastic skins and go poking and prodding into each other."
     "You'd be surprised what a Smart Suit can do sexually."
     "I'd never dress up in clear plastic to go to bed with my lover."
     "You would if it doubled your orgasmic pleasure."
     She shrugged.  "A few nuts would rather wear your suit and turn
themselves into walking human robots than buy machines.  The big
production dollars will go to my robots."
     She did have a way of getting under a man's skin.  Cord's face
flushed.  He had a desire to smash her in her pretty face.
     "After you fail, my suits will save the firm."
     They were saved further agony by the appearance of Nelson Harper, hot
from the meeting.  He had a big grin on his face.  Both of them jumped up
to hear the news.
     "WE'VE GOT IT!"  He waved a paper at them.  "You won't have to
appear.  They're sold. Production starts as soon as we can tool up. That
means January."
     "For robots?" asked Nancy.
     "For suits?" asked Cord.
     "For both, equally," he said.  "There was a fierce debate.  It turns
out that some thought the robots are a hedge for the SS and others thought
the SS is a safety factor against the robot failure.  The funds are split
down the middle, BUT . . ."
     He stopped dramatically, and they both hung on his next words.
     ". . . it was decided that the final allocation of funds depends on
the field tests on both the robots and the suits, to be held at once. I
mean FAST!  Both of you have to go out in the field between now and the
holidays and bring back solid evidence of acceptance.  Based on that, the
final decision will be made at the December Board meeting."
     "So the funds are NOT equal," moaned Cord.
     "Everything is equal until December," insisted Nelson.  "The field
tests are the final hurdle."
     They both started to argue with him, but he cut them off.
     "Field tests . . . and fast, my friends.  I suggest that you start to
pack this afternoon. Nancy you had best head east where there are heavier
robot communities.  Cord, you should go west where the robot idea hasn't
caught on so much.  You'll have money, assistants if you need them.  Just
get going and send me plenty of reports, and fast . . ."
     Nancy Lyons stood at the window of her motel room in New York City
and stared down at the clutter of traffic on the streets below.  The
colorful profusion of Skimmers, people and robots, awed her.  Chicago was
city enough. New York was the impossible metropolis.  It roared night and
day.  With almost a million robots added to the heavy human population, it
was crammed and jammed to the limit; alive night and day.  Even through
the sturdy glass picture windows she could hear the constant thunder of
robot and human activity.  She was almost afraid to expose her jewel, Big
Sam, to this brawling, fast-living, hard-driving whirlwind of a city.
Robot economics had certainly put the zing back into America's sagging
lifestyles of prior decades.  Everybody wanted to own one, or a piece of
one, or trade up to a better one.  More and more jobs were being turned
over to robot workers as the machines were refined.
     When the sex factor was added, it would be an incredible world, she
decided.  People would go absolutely insane for a while.  In New York City
alone, A-C could make back all the prototype costs in just a few months
once Big Sam appeared on the scene.
     But, the field tests must be perfect.  Back in Chicago, everything
had been confusion from the time of that meeting.  She had jammed Big Sam
into a transport box and then spent agonized days and nights arranging for
the parts to be taken, the people to be contacted, the criteria to be
used, the secrecy to be maintained.
     It finally worked out that she went on ahead with Big Sam and his
parts.  She'd start tomorrow with three trusted friends from her school
days at Vassar, all of whom were in New York.  They were all sophisticated
females who would not be afraid of intimacy with a robot, and who would
keep their mouths shut.  Her crew would arrive in a week or less with the
girl robot, and a list of projects her assistants were setting up for her
in Chicago, for New York.  Even so, they would have to work like . . .
well, like robots to get the necessary one hundred tests by the December
meeting.
     "Well, Sam," she said to the quiet, tall man who shared the motel
room with her.  "We had better get lots of rest tonight.  The rat race
starts tomorrow."
     "Whatever you say, Nancy," came the polite reply.
     She laughed and patted his cheek.  Robots would make great husbands,
forgetting all the other things they could do."
     "Undress," she ordered Sam.
     She loved to watch the big, handsome, masculine body as it was
exposed when he stripped.  It was sexy too.  She grinned when he was
entirely nude and showed her a magnificent hard-on.  When they'd rushed
him into the packing crate, they must've left him in the sex cycle.
     She ordered him to sit by the window and take a few pictures with his
eyes which were also camera lenses.  It wouldn't hurt to have a few
colorful night time shots of New York for her personal album after the
trip.
     Then she undressed herself and piled into bed.  So much done, so much
to do!  She yawned happily and turned herself over to a welcome, tension-
relaxing sleep.  Life was absolutely fabulous.
     The nude robot sat quite still for perhaps a half an hour.  The power
in his circuits kept building.  Without the governor, the energy build up
was much greater than when the little device was on.
     Presently, he rose and paced, aware that his energy levels were too
high to sit still.  Beyond a certain point, that energy had to be
dissipated, or he would flare out.  His circuits demanded work.
     What work?
     Sex.  That's the cycle he was set on.  He scanned the room.  There
was a bed, with a woman in it.  Sex.
     He went over to the bed and looked down. The energy surged in him.
The demand was to use up this threatening energy in sex with this woman,
so he wouldn't flare out.
     He pulled back the covers.  She was nude. Good.  She whined a little
at having the covers pulled down, but her whine was not a command.
     He eased onto the bed, moving carefull, as he was programmed to do
around fragile females.
     Gently, he turned her around and over and arranged her limbs as was
necessary to get ready to use up the energy in sex.
     "Wazzatt!"
     Sleepy eyes peered at him and blanked out again.  Her word was not a
command.  He sank down on her, her warm body releasing more energy as it
was supposed to.
     He found her cunt and gently jogged it with his fingers as he was
supposed to do when the female did not command otherwise.  She stirred,
laughed, frowned, undulated her belly.
     He brought his cock down between her legs, forced them open.  He
notched her cunt.  He drove in.
     "SAM!"
     Nancy jerked awake to find her cunt hot and sticky and her robot on
top of her trying to violate her.  He already had two inches of cock
inside of her.
     "You're lovely."
     "STOP, SAM!"
     He could not stop.  The energy flowed too rapidly now, and to stop
would mean that he would flare out.  A flare out in a delicate robot
machine could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in repairs, so he had
an override on anything that blocked release and drove him towards a flare
out.
     He gripped this delightful female who could release his energy clog
and fucked deeply into her cunt.
     "OHHHHH, SAM.  YOU'RE FUCKING ME!" cried the astonished Nancy.
     She knew now, that something was radically wrong with her machine.



                                Chapter 4

     It was not the greatest position in the world from which to do
rational thinking.  Nancy's robot rocked his prick in and out of her now,
happily using up that overload of energy he had, his sensors activating
all the sex reactors he had, sweat glands, deep breathing, flexing
muscles, all the rest.  A real male in passion could not have been more
convincing.
     "Sam, Sam . . . you're so HOT!" complained Nancy.  It was almost as
if, having his sex with her interrupted that day in the robot lab, when
Nelson came in to take over his prick, Big Sam was getting back at her.
But she knew that wasn't true.
     The robot's fervor told her there was something wrong with one of the
machine parts.
     "Sam.  STOP.  You're g-g-going too hard!" cried Nancy.
     Her vagina had really swelled and wetted for this vigorous ride.  She
would never let a real man ride her so hard.  She felt deep belly thrills
that threatened to sweep her away, and she didn't like to be swept away in
sex.  Yet for the moment until she figured out what was wrong, there was
nothing she could do except take hot love from her own machine, twisting
and tossing, moaning like a silly girl under the determined drive of that
seemingly eager prick.
     It was machine comfortable for Big Sam.  If he could use up energy
like this he could avoid flare out.  His sensors became aware of Nancy's
big breasts pressing his chest.  He got his hands under her naked back and
forced up her torso. His mouth closed on her hard nipples.  He was built
so that each sex act - kissing, sucking breasts, even caressing nude skin
used up more of his energy.  His attack on her breasts was most logical to
him.
     Nancy, the cool engineer, had always been a little ashamed of her
luscious breasts.  She wanted men to turn on to her mind, not her body, so
she discouraged fondling of her beauties.  She always told herself she
wasn't breast sensitive.
     Having the robot gobble and lick and suck on her nipples with such
fervor was another matter.  She couldn't stop him and she felt great
streaks of weakness, of delight, of girlish heat and pleasure flash down
her body.
     "Oh, Sam, DON'T!" she wailed.
     She was being raped by her own robot, a ridiculous proposition.  Yet
there was nothing ridiculous about the magnificent sex rushes that she had
to feel suffusing her body.  Her belly and her tits were positively on
fire.
     "You're TAKING me," she whimpered, temporarily dazed out of her
thinking mind.
     "Oh, I love you," he responded between caresses on her nipples.
     She arched up, moaning.  He was certainly going to bring her.  Maybe
the best thing to do was to let him fulfill his run and explode in her at
which point he should automaticlly go still for a while.
     She caught his drumming, naked buttocks, relishing the sexy feel of
those flexing wonders. What fabulous loin action she'd given him.  She
felt down in his crack.  She found his sphincter button and pressed it.
     "Ah, Ho!  Goiiing!" he sang.
     His spurts shot heavily into her cunt, exciting her even more.  She
clearly felt the cock expand and shots of a body-hot load deep in her and
she got that vulnerable, fucked feeling she feared so much.
     "Oh, Sam," she cried.
     Gung, gung, gung.  He spent it off with powerful shots.
     She was half way to orgasm herself now. Maybe it wasn't so bad - she
had to have this robot sex some time.  Still, it bothered her that she did
not have control of him.
     She waited for him to go still after his explosion.  He did not.  No
sooner had he spent the last of his jism shots into her than he resumed
his hot plunging.
     "SAM!"
     "I love it," he said.
     "I know you love it, honey.  But you - you're k-k-killing meeee!"
     That wasn't quite true.  She was getting thoroughly and honestly
fucked like most females in the nation by their lovers, but she didn't
want to play the submissive female.
     This time he moved up to her mouth drawn by this new source of energy
expending.  She found herself taking hot French kisses with his tongue
plunged into her mouth and, it seemed, halfway down her throat.
     She just had to succumb.  There was no way she could resist the hot
action from Big Sam. Locked in his arms with those succulent kisses rained
upon her and his wild prick digging in and out of her cunt, she was
overwhelmed.  How great her belly felt.  Her cunt sang with rich pleasure
and the good feelings crept throughout her body as she began to strain up
and revel in that rush to orgasm.
     "I . . . going to have . . . to do it," she cried in distress.  Big
Sam had her going as well as Nelson had the other day - and why not - it
was that magic prick that did it!
     "Ah, hoo, ah, ah, ah," she went as she climbed up the high hill to
exquisite pleasure.  She began to whimper as the plunging rod drove her
right to orgasmic paralysis.
     "OH, OH, OH," she went.
     There came that doubtful moment when one did not want to give up
voluntary control of the body to the sublime feeling, then she galzed into
her pre-orgasm freeze.
     "AHHHH, SOOOO GOOOOD," she gasped.
     She came up, hard to his loins, wanting the friction wounding of his
prick at this point, grunting like a bitch animal and shivering to get off
her womanhood.  The robot took it.
     Throb, throb, throb.  Her belly began to convulse in sheer, sexy
delight, making her pay off hot quakes of taken girlhood, squeezing on the
thrusting rod.
     "Oh, luscious," Big Sam said, trained to recognize female orgasm.
     "Ah, he, uh, uh, uh," she went.  She felt both proud that her
invention was so sexy and shy to think she could be turned into a rutting
animal just like any other female.  There was no stopping that rich
orgasm, the second such mind-blower that she'd had from this blade.
     "Let it go.  Enjoy," Big Sam encourage her.
     "Oh, I am.  I AM," she squealed.  It did feel so very great to throb
off her hot desire in scorching pleasure against the powerful blade, and
fulfill her animal self.  Maybe she was going to run into a loving,
orgasmic female through the good graces of her machine!
     At last she tapered, still marveling at how well Big Sam took his
female through her orgasm.  No mistakes there.  At last she fell back,
thoroughly fucked out for the moment. Big Sam continued to work on her,
reaming in and out.  Fortunately, she was desensitized for the moment and
could think clearly for a short period.
     "Energy.  The GOVERNOR!" she cried.
     But how could that be?  No one EVER removed the governor from Big
Sam.  Yet the way he acted, using up his power source so he wouldn't flare
out, would explain why he ignored voice commands.
     It was no easy task, getting under his arm to pull the little port.
Not while the lover robot kept at her.  Once she got her fingers inside
she knew what it was - she didn't have to look.  The governor was gone!
Completely gone.  Some stupid assistant hadn't checked him before
shipping.
     She had to get away from him before he whipped up more fuck desire in
her body.  Once more she pressed his orgasm button, once more she took his
rich flood and thrilled and started to get hot.  Then came the magic few
seconds when he finished his spurts but had not started plunging again.
     She gathered all of her strength and jerked free of him, rolling out
from under the robot, no easy matter considering his weight.  Even with
miniaturized circuits and featherweight sensors, he weighed two hundred
pounds.
     She dived for her boxes of spare parts, located in boxes in one
corner of the room.  She had to keep moving.  Smiling Big Sam in his
seductive cycle saw the naked woman as the way to keep expending energy so
he followed her.  Twice she had to dive away and lead him on a merry chase
around the room before she could get back to his equipment boxes and find
a spare governor.  Then it had to be ripped from its stubborn package.
     Before she achieved that she was back in the determined arms of her
robot, hugging her and kissing her as his cock dug at her belly and he got
ready to take her down for more pleasure right on the floor.  Fortunately
the hug position exposed the armpit port.  She slapped the governor into
place, felt it click and shouted, "Stop, Sam!"
     He froze at once.  Her ordeal, if that's what it was, was over.  The
excess energy now flowed harmlessly off his extremities so he was
comfortable with his machine self.
     She flopped on the bed, exhausted, the robot semen running out of her
cunt.  She'd certainly learned a few things in the field already.  The
governor system was no good.  A small female alone with a large robot who
had an energy problem must have an accessible 'disaster' button.  On the
other hand, a female who really wanted lots of action might prefer a robot
in "heavy, manual" instead of the low energy levels where all the sex was
supposed to take place up till now.  She herself did not like aggressive
men and might've built in the mistake of making Big Sam too tame.  Nelson
and the Board were really right about field testing the units.
     She lay there, her cunt slightly aching from the heavy trip, but her
whole body was glowing.  Suddenly she laughed.
     "I was fucked," she said aloud.  "I was forced and used a little -
and I liked it.  I was blameless for all that hot action and got the
benefit."  For the first time she had an inkling as to why aggressive men
were often successful with reluctant women . . ."
     Grace Dowling, Nancy's best friend at Vassar, was the first person
that Nancy introduced to her robot.  After Vassar, Grace had gone on to a
degree in marketing and now held a job with a major New York firm in that
field.  Nancy, of course, had taken her advanced degree in engineering, so
she hadn't seen Grace in a long time.  Nevertheless, Grace was still the
"ripe-redhead" that she remembered.  She was a little more voluptuous now
then she had been ten years ago, but still she had a bawdy twinkle in her
eyes that made her a good bet to meet Big Sam.
     She took Big Sam to Grace's expensive apartment near Central Park and
spend the first half-hour admiring the elegance of her friend's living
quarters.  Both Grace and her husband earned big incomes and they'd
splurged on this luxurious place with its revolving walls, floor-recessed
furniture that could change any room into a bedroom, a sitting room, or a
dining room, depending on which button you pushed and all of the other
modern conveniences a luxury apartment could offer.
     "Wait till you see the pool," Grace said. "That's our latest gadget
and it's a mind- blower."
     "Pool?"
     Nancy looked around in surprise.  They were in a huge living room,
done in magnificent black and red with rotating pictures on the walls that
presented everything from family album photos to old masters.  Still it
was an ordinary room with no sign of water.
     "Wait till you see," said Grace.  "Now, show me your surprise."
     Nancy showed off Big Sam, dressed, and soon saw that Grace was bored.
     "A handsome robot all right," said the redhead.  "Still, Kodak has
some fabulous machines around New York."
     "How about this?" said Nancy.  She made Big Sam undress.
     Grace gave a slight gasp when the robot reached nudity.  Proudly,
Nancy marched up to him and pushed the small control that gave him an
erection.
     Grace stared, her eyes growing large. Suddenly, she burst out
laughing.
     "Oh, my dear.  Just what I'd expect of our engineer-head Nancy, and a
bunch of greedy and dirty-minded old men from a vulgar Chicago company.
Do you really expect to sell this!"
     "What's wrong?" asked Nancy.
     "What's wrong my dear, is that poor addled you always did lack
sensitivity.  There was always something a little masculine about you,
Nancy.  Now it shows."
     "I don't see."
     "My dear, No woman would ever buy, or let hubby buy, a machine with a
vulgar attachment like that.  It's incredibly gross, no matter how
handsome he is.  You think the average woman would offer herself to a
MACHINE?  Oh, maybe a few old maids."
     Nancy felt a hot blush on her cheeks and a terrible fear in her
heart.  Grace Dowling was a master at marketing and she knew what would
sell and what wouldn't.
     "Of course, we'd be subtle about it," stammered the crestfallen
Nancy.  "We wouldn't exactly put him in a show window with a hard-on."
     Grace began to laugh  "Might as well.  While you're at it, you could
hang a sign around his neck.  "Had a fuck lately?"  That would be gross
enough."
     "Oh, Grace, you CAN'T mean . . ."
     "Honey," said Grace, "I do."  She shook her head, controlling her
laughter.  "There's no way you can sell a robot with a prick jutting up.
Or even a soft one.  You'd be laughed out of the country."
     "I can't believe . . ."  Nancy felt that someone had hit her behind
the head with a two by four. She was stunned.
     "Believe it.  You see, my dear, you always were a little calloused
about love and sex.  A true engineer.  I'II bet you had a great time
measuring and figuring out dimensions."
     "Damn it, Grace, the country is ready for it. The penis detaches so
the man of the house can wear it, and it helps . . ."
     Grace went into further peals of laughter.
     "Oh, CHICAGO," she yipped.  "Dear, delicious Chicago.  No, you might
as well cut him up for salvage.  A girl robot for bachelors . . . maybe.
For women, no possibilty.  A-C will be laughed out of the country.  Women
will NOT have sex with machines, no matter how great they do it.  Now let
me show you my swimming pool."
     Nancy sat there, stunned and shattered, tears in her eyes, while the
redhead began to press buttons.  A catwalk descended from the ceiling,
making a four-sided rectangle.  Then energy rays shot down from the
catwalk to make a huge box-like square, eight feet above the floor.
Carpets retracted to show a shiny, hard-surfaced floor of some
impenetrable material.  Four nozzles rolled down from the ceiling and
water began to roar from them. Inside of five minutes Nancy stared at a
complete swimming pool right in the middle of the living room.  It was
eight feet deep with stairs going up to the catwalk which miraculously
became a poolside surface, complete with pool furniture.  In the last
cycle, sun lamps appeared in the ceiling to shine down a mellow, yellow
glow on the sparkling water.
     "Florida in Ceniral Park," laughed Grace. "Come on, let's put on
swimming suits.  We'll have a swim before the other girls get here for
lunch.  Can your robot swim?"
     "He can swim," Nancy managed.  Anger and shock still possessed her.
In her mood, the indoor swimming pool seemed obscene and gross.
     "Well, let him paddle about in the water, but for heaven's sake, make
him put away that rediculous penis you're so proud of."
     Nancy had to bite her lips, as she complied . . .
     From the first moment that Grace emerged in her bikini, the steaming
Nancy began to plot revenge.  Grace was a sexy little dish at that. She
had the cream skin of certain redheads that made her almost shine.  She
had a pretty face and buttery red curls.  She had high, good breasts, a
flat tummy and a voluptuous V between two shapely thighs and good legs.
Grace, Nancy decided, was any man's target, a real looker.
     They set Big Sam to paddling about in the pool in a pair of Grace's
husband's trunks, while Grace chatted on about how jealous her friends
were of her new pool.  Nancy only half listened.  A firm resolve grew in
her.  At last she interrupted Grace.
     "Honey, I have to go to the bathroom.  Will you keep an eye on Big
Sam so he doesn't do anything gross, like drinking your pool water?"
     "Sure.  First door to your right down the hall."
     Nancy paused at Big Sam.  She reached under his armpit and released
the red painted governor.  Then, she gave him a hard-on and got out of the
room fast.  The last sight she had of the two was Grace reclining in a
most provocative position, legs apart, her bra free to catch the rays of
the sun lamp.  Big Sam swam around looking puzzled and apprehensive about
all of the energy that was suddenly released in him.  In about a minute,
he would flare out and start looking for a female . . . Nancy went to the
bathroom.
     The apartment was huge.  The walls were thick.  Nancy dawdled for
fifteen minutes in the bathroom punching all of the controls and marveling
like a Chicago bumpkin, she thought to herself.  Then she went back.
     Before she even reached the living room, she heard sounds of sex.
There was the low, encourging sound of Sam's voice, plus feminine grunts
and moans.
     Grace had not moved from where she sunned herself.  The big robot was
in her saddle, fucking her brains out.  As Nancy climbed to the catwalk,
she saw Grace shudder and lift her elegant butt off of the walkway to give
herself to the robot.
     "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" screamed Grace.  "I'VE BEEN CALLING AND
CALLING.  HE'S DOING IT TO MEEEEE!"
     "Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry," Nancy said, rushing to the locked couple.
She started to fool around with Big Sam's body.
     "NO, YOU FOOL!" shrieked Grace.  "NOT NOWWWWW!"
     It was a fabulous sight to see.  The polite, but determined, robot
held Grace down firmly, his powerful male buttocks nude and flexing as he
drove that magic prick up into the human girl belly.  Grace's elegant legs
were spread wide and her whole body quivered under the drive of the quick,
powerful blade.
     Nancy could see that Grace had been whipped and driven to her moment
of animal bitch surrender.  Her eyes rolled in her head, her breath came
in short gasps, her body twisted and she made deep throat sounds of a
thoroughly fucked female.
     "I'VE GOT TOOO . . ." wheezed Grace.
     Where now, was her sophisticated laughing New York friend, thought
Nancy.  Why, she was in her rutting throes of pleasure, just as if her
rich and good-looking husband drilled her.
     "I understand," said Nancy kindly.
     She felt between her robot's buttocks, found his sphincter and
pressed it.
     Oh, I have to get it off" cried Big Sam.
     His plunging motions changed into male paralysis as he grunted and
then, as Nancy held his balls from behind to feel the action, he spurted
into Grace's cunt.
     "WHOOAAA!" shuddered Grace.  "OH, GOD.  HE'S COMMINNNGGG!"
     Nancy knew that the hot, realistic spurts of jism into Grace would
flip her friend out.  She was right.  As Big Sam spent, Grace whined,
threw her head back and locked her belly on the robot to give herself up
sexually to her machine conqueror.
     "AH - HUH, AH - HUH . . " went Grace.  Nancy saw by the jerking of
those shapely legs, that Grace was in heavenly transport.  She gripped the
robot as tightly as she ever gripped a human lover and delivered her woman
hood to him with satisfying grunts, paying off her sex treasure as her
pink tongue circled outside of her lips, then falling off, then surging up
again to spend more of her belly quakes against the invading prick.
     Nancy waited patiently, until Grace fell back with a sigh and then
quickly clapped the governor back under Sam's armpit.  She ordered the
robot off, and he peeled away politely.  A tap at his crotch switched him
off, and once he was out of the seductive cycle, he became a pleasant
smiling bystander with his soft prick glistening, covered with Grace's
girl juices.
     Grace lay there, a beautiful picture of fucked-out womanhood.  Her
legs were spread. Her small pink cunt was swollen.  Jism leaked from her
box, and her heart still thudded in her soft rib cage.  Her smallish but
up-jutting breasts looked reddened and used, as did her well-kissed mouth.
She lay there in an elegant puddle, eyes closed.
     "You tricked me," she said to Nancy.
     "Of course I tricked you," said Nancy, gently. She patted her
friend's soft, naked belly.  It was still moist from the fuck contact.
"You sneered at my two million dollar machine, and I had to do something.
How was it?"
     "It was fab, as you well know," said Grace. "That doesn't excuse you.
I could sue you for some kind of robot rape."
     "Just think, you're the only woman in New York to have this
experience.  What a tale it would make at your luncheon at the exclusive
Evelyn K's."
     Grace tried to glare at Nancy, but it was obvious that she felt too
good to make it stick.
     "I'm simply not going to forgive you for months and months."
     For some reason Grace's moist, just-sexed body tuned Nancy on.  The
woman there in front of her, naked, open and vulnerable. Nancy's warm hand
slid up to touch one of Grace's breasts.
     "You are one sexily built girl," she said.
     "I am one robot fucked girl," said Grace.
     Nancy laughed, caught up a towel, and wiped off the excess of Big
Sam's cum from between Grace's legs.
     "Anyway, we won't tell your husband."
     "I'll say we won't.  I've never been unfaithful to Roy.  That's the
latest thing in New York, while the rest of the country remains
degenerate.  Total faithfulness."
     "Robots don't count."
     "When they screw like that, they do."
     Grace undulated her belly to Nancy's rubbing, unconsciously.  Nancy
felt a deep stab of sexuality.  Grace was tantalizing, luscious sex
package.  She dropped the towel and boldly felt inside of her friend's
cunt.
     "Let's see what kind of a load he dropped this time.  Ohhh, you are
wet."
     "I'm probably preg with little machines. Ahhh, huhhhhhh!  Go easy,
dear, I'm still hot from the romp."
     Nancy had never felt inside of another woman's cunt.  Her brain was
on fire now.  It was delicious to feel that body-hot, slick girl tunnel,
so deep, so vital, the life channel.  She frigged Grace, finding her clit.
     "Grace, he carries ten loads if you're still hot," Nancy said.  Her
own cunt had turned on like fury inside of her bikini.
     "No, thanks.  It takes getting used to your polite but cunt-crazing
machine.  Uh, uh, you're stimulating me, dear."
     Nancy laughed, feeling a little wild.  She brought out her fingers
and delicately sniffed the liquid combine of the familiar robot-jism smell
and Grace's pungent oils.  Then she crawled forward and lay squarely on
top of Grace's naked body.
     "You are so beautiful just after sex.  Ahh."
     That soft, warm body, still moist after the fuck, really turned her
on.  She felt Grace's high tits dig into hers.
     "Turns you on, huh?" said the redhead.
     Rancy, still following her wild, crazy impulse, took Grace's cheeks
between her hands.  She stared at the redhead's beautiful face.
     "If you want to know the truth, you turn me on like fury just now.
Put it down to Chicago vulgarity."
     Grace didn't flinch or try to push her away. She wet her lips, half
closed her eyes and smiled at Nancy.  Her body was still sexed up from the
intercourse.  Nancy gulped, then brought her lips down on Grace's, the
first time ever in her life she'd succumbed to the desire to hot kiss
another female.  Grace's lips melted under hers and Nancy tasted soft
flesh and sweet syrup.  The two women gasped as they sucked tongues in a
hot French kiss.
     Nancy pulled back, looked down at Grace's beautiful lip line, wet and
inviting and then began more kisses, hotly punishing their velvet
richness.  Grace's breath blasted against her cheek, sweet and excited.
Suddenly, with exultation, Nancy knew she could lesbian fuck her friend.
There was a blush on the beautiful face and Grace gently rubbed her belly
against Nancy's, on top.
     "Feel good?" whispered Nancy.
     "Lovely."
     Nancy reached back, broke her bra and released her own big tits which
were glowing now, the nipples hard with desire.  She brought, one of her
big globes to Grace's face.
     "Oh, Nancy," whined Grace.
     "Take it!" Nancy ordered.  The power was in her body, in her desire.
     "I . . . I . . . I'll bet all your life you wanted to touch another
woman's breasts," said Nancy. "Do it."
     Grace closed her eyes and her pink tongue came out to stroke Nancy's
nipple.  Nancy gasped in pleasure.
     "Ohhh, good."
     Encouraged, the smaller redhead gobbled the tit under her mouth.
     "Ah ha!" went Nancy.  She began to ride her wetting cunt on Grace's
pelvic ridge.  Grace panted now, eating tits, undulating softly under her
seducer.
     Nancy felt dizzy.  She'd never really thought much about approaching
another woman, but once in a while she had a flash of desire.  Like that
little sex frump that Cord had in his lab, Marybelle something.  When you
saw a curving, hungry body like that, you might fantasize a little.  Now,
she wanted Grace's body; to take the luscious, smart ass redhead all the
way.
     She groaned in sweet, rising desire and held her big, supple breast
as Grace ate it.  When the glow was at maximum, the pressure on her nipple
was too much, she switched to her other breast, making Grace eat that.
     There was a silence in the room, the silence of two people doing a
sexual thing they shouldn't be doing.  Nancy even hated to groan her soft
groans of pleasure to break that silence.
     She let Grace suck her breast until it, too, glowed with full
splendor.  Then, she eased it out of Grace's mouth, feeling the slight
sting of the saliva and the coolness after the warmth of the suckling
mouth.
     She eased down on Grace's body and began to eat those small but high
tits.  Grace moaned and bucked her loins.
     "Oh, Nancy, you'll get me too hot.  I'll have to . . . have to . . ."
     "I can do it," said Nancy.  She expected some revulsion at her
lesbian act to set in, either from her side or Grace's.  Instead, she felt
only a growing, wild desire to fuck the luscious body of the redhead.
     "My God, I've never had sex with a woman." Grace breathed.
     "Me either, Grace.  Right now, you turn me on like fury."
     "You always were tougher, kind of male." said Grace.
     "Dyke?" laughed Nancy.  Then, she groaned in pleasure.  The hot,
sensitive nipples of the woman under her drove her crazy with desire as
she resumed her sucking, kneading the other breast with her hand.  It was
glorious to take over another female's beauties.
     "Oh, Nancy, you'll make me come doing that." Grace protested.
     "Can, but I won't." said Nancy.  She tongued down Grace's silken
body, digging into the navel and then swiftly dropped below to face the
pungent, quivering, small, pink slice of cunt, under glossy red hairs.
     She was shocked at herself.  She was a firm-minded, capable, cleaver
with machinery.  But tough?  No.  Lesbian?  No.  She was caught up in the
hot thrills of the moment, and she wanted to explore, find out what it was
like.
     She sank her mouth on the steaming, luscious box of her friend.
     "Ah WOOOOOOO!" sang Grace, as Nancy's tongue breached her cunt and
found her clit. She fucked up in a lavish roll of her belly, gasping.
     For a few seconds, Nancy felt scared of the strange sensations of
feeling, tasting, drinking at another woman's cunt.  The body hot oils
coated her mouth, slid down her throat.  The soft, yielding cunt flesh
felt fine-textured and luscious.  The bump of the woman's clit excited
her.
     She dug her mouth hungrily into the helpless orifice and began to
drive Grace.
     "OH, HEY.  AH, AH, AH . . ." went Grace, fucking against Nancy's
face.  "You're DOING meeee.  We're DOING it."
     Nancy sucked and slurped in vulgar display, reveling in the hot cunt
action.  Part of her drive was anger at Grace's earlier attack, part was
her worship of that sexy little body, part was her desire to explore this
new avenue of sexuality open to her.  She was as hot as she could ever
remember, which didn't make sense, but she just wanted to love and suck
and drive and take this soft, supple female body under her own and make
Grace surrender and yip in pleasure.
     She flicked her tongue in and out of the nerve-rich first inches of
Grace's cunt, rode her clit and drank her flowing cunt juices, thoroughly
enthralled by this weird trip.  Her own body burned but that didn't matter
for the moment.  Presently, she began to use her finger alongside of her
tongue to make Grace buck faster and twist and moan in pleasure.
     Grace was almost crazed with the sexuality of it.  She had good sex
life with her husband, but lately around New York there were delicious
rumors that lez was in.  Not too much and not too obvious.  The bolder of
her friends whispered and hinted of lascivious things done at parties, at
private luncheons, even in Skimmers in the street.
     She would never have the nerve to get into something like that, but
she burned with curiosity.  Then, Nancy suddenly appeared from Chicago,
with her brunette good looks, her intensity and her extreme sexuality.
And, of course, her robot.  The robot had set her up, for sure.  She had
to fight back against the dizzying appeal of her beautiful friend by
accusing her of being masculine, but it wasn't that.  There was just
something incredibly sexy about Nancy Lyons and there always had been. She
reached down and gripped Nancy's head.
     "Take me, do me," she cried.  "FUCK ME! AH, AH, AH . . ."
     She rocked in exquisite pleasure on the wounding tongue, writhed to
the expert finger. Trust a woman to know how to plug another woman.  She
ground her belly in magnificent joy in the growing freedom of surrending
to the intense woman's hot sex drive.
     "Ah huh . . . Ah huh . . . uh, uh, uhhhh," went Grace, shivering in
her ecstasy.  It was different from a male sex trip, or even that wild
robot trip, because it was forbidden, secret, unthinkable, utterly
delicious.
     She began to whine and feared she sounded like a rutting bitch, but
she couldn't help herself.  Nancy boldly drove her right up to the sky.
     "AHHHHHHH, GOD!" she went, as Nancy finally took her with that demon
tongue and her hot sucking.
     She strained in full, taken paralysis, and then gave up her womanhood
for the second time within an hour.  Throb, throb, thorb . . .
     "Ahhhhh, soooo fabulous, ahhhhh, meeeee," she keened.
     Her cunt clipped and squeezed lusciously on Nancy's tongue and she
worked off her tension in pure, exquisite joy.  It felt like her belly was
being sucked out of her body in this glorious operation, and she gasped
and grunted and arched up as she spent off her glory.
     She knew that Nancy would make her suck off her cunt in return, but
it didn't matter. Grace floated in heavenly rapture, losing her body and
her being to the wild, but utterly magnificent lesbian adventure.



                                Chapter 5

     The redhead kept staring at Cord Bannister. Normally, he would've
welcomed this attention because she was a stunner, with soft, gleaming
hair, a beautiful face and a nicely curved figure.  She knew she was
special too.  She wore a black dress that bespoke elegance.  She was no
more than twenty-five.  It was a restaurant in Oregon - she wasn't alone.
     Cord, however, was in no mood to deal with females, beautiful or
otherwise.  He'd been in Oregon for two weeks now, testing his Smart Suit.
First he'd gone to the University of Oregon at Eugene where he had a
contact with the Psychology Department.  Young coeds tested a half dozen
of the smart suits.  They thought they were great.  The professors were
quite interested in their reactions, so they reported they were great -
left the lab and promptly forgot about them.
     Cord had also done some testing in downtown Portland, with Andy Lang,
the West Coast A-C man setting up some tests with a local marketing
bureau.  They selected both housewives and working wives.  The wives
thought they were great.  Of the dozen or so suits put out, Cord was
fairly certain that nine people took them home, shook them out, put them
back in the box and returned them next day saying they were great without
even wearing them.  Two others seemed vaguely embarrassed.  He guessed
they'd actually tried the suits with their husbands.  One woman was
enthusiastic.
     Cord had selected Oregon instead of the large cities of LA, San
Francisco or Seattle because he feared the city people were novelty
oriented.  There'd be a fad rush - then nothing. Also robots had just
begun to reach the West Coast.  That didn't help his SS suit tests.  It
sickened him to think that Nancy Lyons and her robots might win the day.
     The redhead was part of a party of four.  She was obviously married
to a big-shouldered, dark-haired young man, and there was another couple
with them.  They sat at a table next to Cord, who dined alone in a booth.
They bantered in the easy fashion of young married couples out for a nice
dinner and evening, but the redhead who sat at an angle to Cord, kept
staring at him.  She was certainly no one he knew, but of course he wore
nothing but the Smart Suit which mightve caught her eye. Tight to his
skin, but opaqued to a nice blue color it did make him stand out in any
crowd.
     He had left Portland to come to this small coast town to ponder what
to do next.  If people loved a product, or hated it, you had no problem.
You sold it, or junked it.  What did you do when they merely LIKED it?
     The redhead raised her glass of wine and toasted him.  Cord nodded
and smiled briefly, while her husband glared and said something to her.
Cord's mind was off and spinning again.
     Nancy with her robots would have her problems, plenty of them.  But
she rode the crest of robot popularity - everybody was going to get rich
on robots as they had once on stocks and later on real estate.  Maybe he
should go the opposite.  Instead of going for the mass market, he should
sell to the select few and make the SS a Rolls Royce type of item that the
upward mobile people would seek because their social betters all owned
one.  Interesting idea.
     The redhead was doing something very strange.  She sat in her chair
swaying slightly, her eyes sparkling, her lips wet and her face flushed.
Cord thought she looked like someone in the middle of a sex experience,
which was startling to see in the middle of a public restaurant.  She
looked right at him and smiled.
     "Marsha, are you crazy?" her husband snapped.
     The woman looked at him with glazed eyes, a superficial smile on her
face.  There was no question about what happened to her.  She was having
an orgasm.  There were beads of moisture on her forehead, a sublime look
on her face, a flushing and soft gasps.
     "Marsha, are you sick?" asked her husband.
     "N-no, Roy, I'm not sick," she gasped.  Her eyes hung on Cord's face.
     The husband swung around to glare at Cord. Cord, wanting to go inside
of himself deeply and wrestle with his problem, gave a polite, impersonal
nod and smile and looked elsewhere.  The redhead finished her seizure,
whatever it was, and the incident was over.
     Cord had enormous powers of concentration. Outside it was raining,
inside the crowded restaurant people talked in a happy, warm babble as
people do when warm and cozy against the elements.  Cord ate absently, his
mind a thousand miles away, turning his problem this way and that.
     He felt a disturbance at his elbow.  He looked around - the redhead
had joined him in the booth, gleaming hair, black dress and all.
     "I'm Marsha Collins," she said in a tremulous voice.  She sipped at
her wine glass and peered at him shyly.
     "Marsha," he said startled and annoyed.  "I'm pleased to meet you.
But I think you're disturbing your husband."
     "That's a nice suit you're wearing."
     It was clearly time to escape.  For some reason this local beauty had
fixed upon him, but he had no desire to achieve a pickup.
     "It's a Smart Suit, Marsha," he said. "Someday you'll read all about
it, but tonight I can't take the time to discuss it."
     He reached for his check.  A tall, angry and broad-shouldered young
man stood menacingly in front of his table.
     "What are you doing to my wife?"
     "Absolutely nothing," said Cord standing up. "I don't know her.  I
don't want to know her."
     "Marsha, why are you sitting with this man?" said young Collins.
     "I-I-I don't know," she said, blushing.
     "YOURE DOING SOMETHING TO MY WIFE!" cried Collins.
     Cord didn't deign to answer.  He took his check and started to leave.
Heads turned in their direction, the chatter of the crowd diminished as
they had become the center of attention.
     The young man took a swing at Cord.  The other woman in his party
screamed and the nearby waiter froze.
     Naturally the blow never landed because Cord wore his Smart Suit.
The fist angled off harmlessly into the air.  Cord started to brush by
him.
     "You . . . you . . .," cried the angered young man.  He swung again
and again, but each blow failed to land and he spun away from Cord from
the exertions of his swing.  Cord moved away.  Collins sprawled on the
floor.
     "Did you see that?" someone gasped.  "The guy swung - he couldn't hit
the guy in the funny suit."
     "Blows never touched him," said another. "Wow!"
     Cord couldn't help a grim smile.  It was advertising for the Smart
Suit - but not tonight.  He left the confusion behind him, loud voices,
feet trampling and the friend helping the young husband to his feet.
     The headwaiter took Cord's money card and bill.  "Somebody said you
knocked down young Collins."
     "Somebody's wrong," said Cord.  "He swung at me and missed.  I did
nothing, not to him, not to his wife."
     "I ought to call the police," said the headwaiter.  He was angry with
Cord but aware of his big size.  "Collins is a good customer."
     "On a rainy night like this they wouldn't show up very soon," said
Cord lightly.
     He grabbed the check, signed it, retrieved his money card and escaped
before things could get worse.  He welcomed the emptiness of the parking
lot, the heavy rain, the sense of isolation.  He had to go back to his
motel and work out this problem.
     He had barely gotten into his rented Skimmer when there was a rush of
a figure approaching in the heavy rain.  A body hit the side of his car.
A door jerked open.  It was Marsha Collins.
     "I have to . . . to go with you," she gasped.
     She was soaked to the skin in the elegant black dress which was now a
mess.  Her attractive hairdo had melted in the rain.  She must've slipped
away in the confusion inside.
     "Are you crazy, woman?" he said.  "What do you want with me?"
     "I have to . . . have to . . . go with you."
     She got inside the Skimmer and closed the door.
     Cord looked around desperately.  There was no sign of anybody else,
not yet.  The woman was soaked.  He was puzzled.  He was pretty sure now
that her strange actions had something to do with the SS and he wanted to
know.  He lifted the Skimmer off the ground. Young Collins would just have
to surrender his wife for a couple of hours while Cord probed this
mystery.
     On the way to his motel, soaked and bedraggled as she was, Marsha
Collins had another orgasm.
     Inside his motel room he had her strip out of her soaked clothes and
jump into the bed.  She offered absolutely no objections to peeling down
to the nude in front of him.  He tried to keep his mind on the scientific
mystery - she was one beautiful female.
     When she was safely in the bed, covers pulled up, he said, "Now,
young lady, let's get to the bottom of this.  Why are you so stuck on me?"
     She still had that strange dazed look.
     "I . . . I don't know.  I like your face.  You . . . have the kind of
body . . . body type I like in men.  Like my husband."
     "Is it the suit?"
     "The suit . . . unusual . . . very attractive."
     Her hand, under the covers, made motions. He couldn't believe it.
She had the same flushed look as in the restaurant and in the Skimmer. She
was . . .
     He jerked back the covers.  She had her legs spread, revealing
lucious creamy thighs, bright red pubic hair - and an eager hand busily at
work on her cunt.  She looked up at him, eyes sparkling, dogged and
determined. He felt a crawl of weird excitement.  It HAD to be the suit.
     "I'll just turn this off and remove it," he said. He had had the heat
on the suit turned all the way up against the cold of the day.  He touched
the proper controls and the microwave heaters died at once.
     "Ohhhh, that's better!" cried Marsha, with a huge sigh.  "Oh, my
goodness, what have I done?"
     She suddenly came out of her daze, stopped masturbating and pulled
the covers back over her nudity.  "Oh, that's BETTER."
     Cord had not yet removed the suit.  He stared at her - he stared at
the suit.  He turned the microwave unit back on - to high, as it had been.
He looked at the woman who had started to blush and apologize.  As soon as
he turned the MW on she stuttered, stammered in confusion and began to
move her loins under the covers.
     "I'm hot again!" she protested.
     Cord turned off the suit and sat down to stare at the young woman in
amazement.
     "My suit did it to you, Marsha.  My suit broadcast microwave heat -
from my crotch - uh, my loins.  Somehow it reached you."
     "Got so hot!" she said.  "Felt as if . . . I was doing it . . . had
to do it, or die."
     "Buy why you?  Why not the other women in the place?"
     She just shook her head.  She was relieved to be released from her
bitch heat.
     "Back in the lab this never happened," puzzled Cord.  Then the light
began to break.
     "Marsha, this is important.  You dug me.  I mean you liked my face,
and you like my body type.  Is that right?"
     She nodded.  "I've always gone for big-shouldered square-built men
with V shaped faces.  But I've never acted crazy like this."
     He understood then.  It had never happened before because none of his
three or four female assistants in the lab dug his physical appearance
that much.  This woman turned on to his looks - and sat close enough so
that those MW signals reached her in full force and fury. He laughed,
delighted.  Suddenly the SS had a new sales point that he'd never
discovered because he hadn't been out in the field with it. Those MW's
probably affected all women in his vicinity when the suit was turned on
high, but if they weren't predisposed they'd simply feel it as unlikely
heat between their legs.  He remembered now that the other woman in the
party had seemed uncomfortable.
     "Marsha, I owe you and your husband a big, fat apology.  My
electronic suit turned you on beyond your power to resist, and I didn't
even know it.  Caused you deep embarrassment.  As soon as your clothes
dry, I'll rush you home, and tell your husband."
     She mumbled something.
     "What?" asked Cord.
     "I said, turn on the suit again.  I like you and trust you, Cord.  I
don't want to go home - just yet.  My husband has cheated on me, lots of
times.  I've been good.  Soooo good.  Lots of times I've looked at other
men and turned on to them, but I never had a boost like your electronic
suit. It was like something reached down deep inside of me - I feel very
loving - I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS!"
     Cord did a turn around the rug.  "Now look, Marsha . . ."
     "I don't care!  If you don't want me, let me do it myself.  You know
where my hubby is right now?  He's not looking for me.  He's rushed to his
secretary's apartment, crazy to get sympathy for what I've done.  He gets
another freebie tonight.  He hopes I won't come home."
     "But, baby," said Cord, "you're so good-looking. Why, there can't be
another woman in this small town, here in Henderson, half as good-looking
as you."
     "There isn't.  She has half my looks, but to Robert I'm a wife.  W-I-
F-E.  The day we walked out of the church his eye started roving."
     Cord shrugged.  Inside he did not feel indifferent.  The redhead
turned him on like fury.  He hadn't had any sex since that day in the lab
with Marybelle, bless her blonde soul, who'd done quite well, considering
that she didn't turn on to his body type.
     "Marsha, I can wear this Smart Suit and give you some joy you'll
never forget.  But there's always tomorrow.  How will you feel tomorrow."
     She grinned at him, small even teeth gleaming.  She raised her arms.
"I'll feel positively fabulous, because all the time Robert's been
tomcatting I've played the virgin wife - and as your suit proved, my
subconscious has had enough of that nonsense."
     Cord laughed, turned on the suit again and got into bed with the
girl.
     "In a sense this is bigger than you or me, Marsha.  You are the
pioneer of thousands of women who have similar problems but whose
lifestyles are about to change when my suit goes on the market."
     Cord changed the color of the suit from the dressy blue to
transparent.  He became a nude man in a shimmering cover.  Marsha's eyes
got big.
     "Will you like me as well nude as when I wasn't?" he kidded her.
     "Like a god," she gasped.
     Cord took the ripe young girl into his arms with more than a feeling
of normal desire.  The time with Marybelle, she'd worn the suit, not he.
It had been a long time since he'd tested a suit himself for sex, wearing
the man's version. Then it had been with a couple of prostitutes, a
mechanical exercise.  This was a real test.
     The first thing he sensed was a heightened awareness of Marsha's
skin.  The suit, in its seduction cycle, made her nudity feel incredibly
warm and supple, amplifying the normal sensations.  He was hard by the
time he got in bed, of course, this time wearing the thin skin that
covered his penis.  The sensation down there was enhanced.
     The suit did not cover his head, of course.  The energy ducts at the
neck protected the face from blows or weapons as it did the body, by
projecting a shield, but a simple adjustment turned that off.
     He fixed his mouth on the luscious lips of the heated-up wife and
kissed her.  She surged up against him, gasping.  The suit not only took
care of his sensations, it heightened hers as well.  Her nipples as they
raked his chest got intense stimulation from the covering.
     "Ho, Cord - TOO MUCH!" she cried.
     "Can't be too much," he laughed, thrilling to the woman's nudity.
     "Like fun!  Go slower, or I'll come," she squealed.
     He eased up on the kissing, stroking her silken body instead.
     "Oh, Cord, don't do that or I'll come," she begged.
     It was true that she was a mess between her legs.  Her thrilled cunt
had produced an endless flow of happy juice which stained her lower belly
and thighs.  As he held her he felt her internal quivers of delight and
excitement, which told him that she was right on the verge of orgasm.  The
MW signals, in a real sex situation, turned her into a moist, orgasmic
female.
     Her breasts were beautiful, not too large, not too small and
perfectly shaped.  She had large aureoles and perky pink nipples without
any bumps or flaws.  He cupped one of her beauties.
     "Cord.  Don't do that or I'll . . ."
     "I know.  Come," he said.  "Baby, you're just going to have to come."
     He dived his head onto that cream flesh and sucked one of her nipples
while he kneaded the other with full, fiery pleasure.  He felt deep body
thrills of his own, but he was protected from any accidents of fast
ejaculation by the sleeve around his stiff cock.  Marsha moaned and surged
up.
     "I . . . I . . . I . . ."
     "Do it," he commanded.  He slid a hand down to feel inside of her
cunt and work her clit.
     That did it for the white hot redhead.  She arched her body, her eyes
went big and she gave a wounding gasp of extreme pleasure.
     "This . . . is . . . it!"
     There was almost no freeze at all.  She swept into full orgasm, her
swollen, aching and greasy cunt squeezing ferociously on his fingers,
digging her belly tight to him for her rutting pleasure.  She gasped and
arched up and paid off lusciously to his sliding fingers in her cunt.  It
was too bad to waste the orgasm like this, but there was nothing Cord
could do about it.  The girl was so high that any caresses he gave her
would flip her over to hot surrender, so she might as well go with
pressure on her swollen little clit.
     "Ah, God, soooo gooood," she moaned, throbbing powerfully on his
digging fingers. "Oh, Cord, you made me into a rutting bitch!"
     "On you it looks good," he laughed.  He took her carefully through
her orgasm so she got all the sweetness from it that there was to get.
This was her third orgasm, so she was in a melting, hot, and moist
orgasmic state.
     She thrust and grunted until her young womanhood tapered and she fell
back exhausted once more, closing her eyes and resting in his arms.  She
WAS beautiful.  What a lucky thing to discover this new power of his suit
in such a happy fashion.  It made up for the two weeks of bad times he'd
had,
     He drank in her beauty as she lay there, moist, blushing slightly
from her sexual exertions, temporarily fucked out, with her young gland
power glistening between her legs.  Those big nipples on her breasts were
soft now and her whole body gleamed like silk.  Her swollen cunt seemed to
beckon to him.
     Cord slipped out of the SS.  It was fine to get things started but he
wanted to experience this one, free cock to free cunt.  He mounted her, as
she lay passive on the bed, legs carelessly spread.  He canted up her
belly and pressed his hard cock down for her cunt opening.  It felt really
wild and crazy to be fucking this luscious dish who'd been a complete
stranger an hour ago.  He worked his cock into position and drove it into
her belly.  She gasped again and surged as his big cock took her channel
and he fucked several inches into her.
     It did feel great!  There was no need of the suit now.
     "Marsha!" he cried.  Then he sank his prick down on her and oozed
deliciously to his full length into her body.  How tight and wet her young
cunt was!  He slid his hands over velvet buttocks, froze her rigid and
began to plunge happily in and out of her belly, reveling in the hot
friction of the free fuck.
     "I, I, I," she said.  Her eyes came open.  She looked up at him and
smiled, her face wearing that lusting look of a female who is drunk with
love.  "I . . . getting the real thing . . . at last," she sighed.
     "The . . . real thing, sweetheart," he said.  He watched in
fascination as her big, soft nipples began to harden again as her body
received hot sex messages.  This was one gone female.
     She caught her bottom sensual lip in white teeth, gasped and began to
move on his blade, giving him back the same hot friction he laid into her.
     "I WANT YOU," she cried.  "Been waiting for a tall sexy stranger . .
."
     He had it in proportion now.  She had been really overdue for a man
that looked like him, acted like him and, for good measure, had a way to
get her started.  It took nothing away from the suit.  Men and women often
liked each other on sight and fantasized sex.  The SS would be a new
factor, sending out hot signals to MAKE something happen.  But only for
people who really dug each other, and that was proper, too.
     Cord relaxed now, not wanting to hurry.  He eased down on top of
Marsha's ripe body.  His mouth sought hers.  As he drove his tongue into
her mouth, relished her sweet breath, and sampled her honey saliva, he
felt he was really close to her, sensing her urgent need for his loving,
plunging,prick.
     Cord took plenty of time.  In his profession, moments like these were
few and far between. He seized a handful of her glorious red hair, pretty
well dry now, and held her head still while he explored her wet mouth, all
the while fucking slowly into her with long strokes.  He felt her desire
rise - it was aimost like manipulating a young, favorite pet.  She was in
a sex daze with him, where everything was possible.
     He sucked French kisses off of her mouth until those soft lips were
red with usage and she murmured in a slight protest.  Yet all the time,
she responded hotly to that lovemaking, shoving her own small, pink tongue
into his mouth to be teased and bitten a little.
     "I could kiss you all night," he told her, hugging the nude body to
him.  He 'spanked' her velvet belly with his strong stomach muscles, while
she smiled up at him.
     "I could take your kisses forever."
     Deliberately he now moved down to her breasts.  Those big nipples set
him on fire -  they were his kind of lovelies, full and pure, a delicate
pink.  He let the sweet good feeling of his desire lift him as he sucked
and nibbled on her meat.
     "Oh, Cord, that's hot!"
     "Okay if I . . . ahh . . . eat 'em off?"
     "Save a little," she gasped.  She held his head and took the service
of her breasts with delight, breathing heavily.  He had barely managed to
get his pleasure out of her second beauty when she began to strain up
under him, eyes wide and body moist again as she rose to her fourth
orgasm.
     "Ah, I'm getting ready, ready," she told him.
     How great it was to drive a female to this melting orgasm state over
and over.  How great it was for her, too.  He dug his cock in and lifted
her right up to glory.
     Her head went back.  Her belly strained. There was a sexy slogging
sound as the soft muscles of her cunt held it taut in he sexual paralysis.
Then she burst in the soft, rushing way a woman had, her cunt clipping and
squeezing on his cock.  Her throbs were powerful and she bucked and
groaned.
     "OH, I . . . TAKEN . . . SOOO TAKEN!"
     "Fly, little bird," he cried happily.
     She was getting a little worn down now and her throbs did not last as
long as the last time. He took her through and then let all his hold-back
power collapse.  Immediately his cock rushed to glory.  He fell into the
rich valley of a happy freeze as he lost control of his muscles and the
sex explosion organized.
     "GOIIIIINNNG," he sang, locking tight to her hot, wet belly.
     Spurt, spurt, spurt.  His jism shot out into her body, making her
with explosive charges and plenty of back pressure.  Her slick womb was
washed with his vigor, and the relief and pleasure he felt was incredible.
It HAD been too long.  There was a long way to go.
     He gripped her tightly, making her feel every drop as he grunted,
eyes glazed, body ejaculating magnificently, as he savored this most
unusual fuck of this beautiful girl.  Spurt, spurt, spurt.  He did have a
full, happy load to give her and he rinsed out every shot as if it were
the last time he'd ever make a female.  He always did this, holding back
nothing.
     "Ahhhhh, Marsha.  That was a trip and a half," he finally breathed as
he tapered and went still on top of her body.
     "I hope we can do some more," she whispered.
     "Child, we can do plenty more," he laughed, "especially as long as we
have my smart suit to work with - and I have the beautiful excuse that it
hasn't been fully tested in the field."
     She smiled up at him.
     The rain beat down on the motel roof with a pleasant monotony.
Marsha lay on the bed, dozing, while Cord sat at the desk and made his
notes on the SS.  He felt excited now.  Of course, even with compatible
parties, the experiment would not be repeated in quite such a delicious
way.  He'd never run into such a good looking female, nor would he catch
one just at the point where she died for hot, intense love due to the
drabness of her personal life.
     Then he returned to the bed and gave Marsha two more orgasms, one
while he wore the suit and another without.  He wanted to find out himself
what the effect was to go from the suit to regular sex.  The answer: not
so hot, but he was slowing down himself a little, and the girl's cunt was
reddened from all the action.  It was not really a good test.
     He lay beside her in the darkness, his mind still filled with aspects
of the marketing, listening to the rain on the roof and Marsha's soft
breathing.  It had been a night to remember; an experience he would savor
all his life.  His last waking thought was the hope that she wouldn't
awaken full of guilt and shame, and play a scene that he'd been into more
than once.
     She did not.  When he awoke, the sun shone, the rain clouds were gone
- and so was Marsha Collins.  There was only a note in her handwriting,
giving her address and phone, and a few wrinkled towels to tell of his
beautiful evening.
     "My problem," said Andy Lang, the A-C man in the territory, "is that
the women I want I can't get and the women I don't want come on strong."
     "Join the human race," smiled Cord.
     They walked around one of Portland's biggest shopping centers.  They
had spent the morning interviewing store owners as they talked about the
possibilities of the SS being stocked for retail.
     Almost to a man, or woman, the buyers in the stores hated the Smart
Suit.  No one had ever come along with a suit loaded with electronics. As
for the walking feature, people were too lazy anyway.  As for the
protective feature, the suit might be good for the police.  As for the sex
- the clothing people didn't even want to discuss that.



                                Chapter 6

     When Cord opened the door, Erica no longer looked confused.  She came
into the room with conviction.
     "I . . . I lied," she said.  "I didn't come to Portland to go
chopping.  I came here to have an adventure."
     "Like maybe there's been a little trouble at home with the
Professor?" asked Cord.
     "Yes," said the long, lanky coed with blonde hair.  They've tried to
keep me from knowing about it.  I had to get away, to know what to do.
Then I saw you two and, well, I felt suddenly warm and excited.  It's hard
to explain."
     "Not at all.  You felt the effects of my Smart Suit, dear lady.  For
people who have sex on their minds and are open to adventure, it carries a
strong message.  Take off your clothes, Andy.  Show Erica the Smart Suit."
     "Muh . . . meeee?"
     "Well, we both will," said Cord.  "That's fair."
     They stripped to the suits which were opaqued to cover their nudity
as Cord explained the principles.
     "I feel it, I feel it," said Erica.  The signals from Andy were
stronger when he'd taken off his regular suit.
     "These suits enhance sex.  Unfortunately, I do not have the female
version with me, but the male version also brings exotic pleasure to the
woman."  Cord touched some controls in Andy's suit and it went
transparent, showing Andy's nude body and raging hard-on as well.  Erica's
eyes got huge.  Andy blushed but stood his ground.
     "So, dear lady, if you really want an adventure . . ."
     "Oh, oh, I couldn't," said Erica, eyes downcast.
     Andy stood there, blushing furiously, the suit glittering on him, his
penis ready, but that was the extent of his aggression.  He had always
been too shy with women, not feeling that he could win them because of his
small stature and ordinary looks.  With a woman as good-looking and as
elegant as Erica Parker, he was afraid to say or do anything because it
might turn her off.
     "Erica," said Cord, "do you play a musical instrument?"
     "I used to play the clarinet."  Those big, soft eyes shot a sideways
glance at Andy's manhood and then darted away in guilt.
     "Good.  Sit down, close your eyes.  I'll bring you a clarinet."
     She did as he told her.  Cord stood Andy before her and bent her head
down.
     "Give us a solo, dear girl."
     Eyes closed, trembling, the sensitive woman slid Andy's prick into
her mouth.  It was encased in the SS clear plastic so Andy stiffened from
the amplified signals of good feeling.
     "Ah, oh, oh, oh," he moaned in pleasure.
     Emboldened by his sounds of pleasure, blushing, Erica used on hand to
stroke his balls, the other to jack off the lower portion of his shaft,
and she bobbed her head with more vigor on the top of his length.
     "That is HEAVEN!" called Andy, going up on his toes.
     Cord did not like the look on Andy's face, nor the way his body
trembled.  It could be a short solo that Erica played.  He reached out and
pressed the controls to lessen the thrill demands on the cock sleeve of
the suit.
     Cord was hard himself now, to see the stiff prick working up into the
beautiful face of the woman.  He could tell from her tension that the feel
of that hard sex blade in her mouth turned her on.  He got behind her and
loosend her one-piece suit.  She tried to shake him off, half-heartedly,
without giving up her sex lollipop, but he firmly took each arm at a time
and pulled it free, laying her glittering top down to her hips.
     Her smooth torso, her big breasts, her supple belly turned him on to
lift him to a more straining hard-on.  Soft, supple, elegant and silken,
that was the professor's wife.
     Andy's hands immediately grasped her nude shoulders.  His face shone
with ecstatic joy.
     "I've wanted this.  Oh, I've looked for this a thousand times.  Erica
. . . beautiful."
     "Mmmmmmmmm."
     Then, Cord unhooked her bra to release those big, big breasts.  She
moaned a protest, but kept her eyes closed, her hands on Andy's rod and
her head bobbing in her cock-suck.  The bra came off.
     She had fantastic tits.  Not only were they queen-sized, but they
were elegantly shaped, perfect glories of the mother-whore.  Her aureoles
were a light pink, without a blemish and the hard, erected nipples were
only a little darker, also without any distortion.
     Looking down on those sexy, released globes, Andy almost died in joy.
His wife had small breasts.  He'd never seen such an elegant pair. Cord
made a gesture and he bent to heft them, one in each hand, the nipples
burning his palms.
     It was all too much for him.  Wild streaks of pure sexuality raced
from his toes to his head. He could hardly catch his breath.  He fucked
into the mouth of a beautiful stranger who sucked him willingly and who
moaned as he kneaded her glorious tits.
     "Ah, Cord . . . Erica.  OH, MY GOD!"
     Cord cried out a warning, but it was too late. Andy strained up in
pure ecstasy.  His forehead was moist, his eyes stared, bugging out.
There was nothing to do but give him the power of the suit to enjoy his
orgasm.  Cord quickly tapped the controls that turned on the hot pleasure
rays in the cock sleeve.
     "YIEEEEEEEEE!!" went Andy.
     He'd never felt such a sensation in all of his life.  Cord's suit
came on full, while he was in the middle of his gorgeous freeze before
orgasm, when his body was stilled so all muscular effort could go to the
delicious sex spasms.  The piercing, maddening joy that suffused his cock,
was almost more than human flesh could bear, since he was already half-
crazed with excitement.
     The suit prolonged his freeze.  He stood on his toes like some kind
of robot, every muscle locked, pleasure glowing, and all life forces
suspended.  He gave an unearthly shriek, like pitching down from a high
roller coaster.
     SPURT!  "AH, KEERIST!"  Spurt, spurt, spurt.  "OH, I'M
DYIIIIINNNGGG!"
     He went faint with the powerful bursts of his over-stimulated cock,
half collapsed on the woman, and shot off a huge run of milky darts that
filled the sleeve of the suit.  Like coming into a condom, he burned out
gushes of manhood to be trapped and make a foamy cushion and ballon of the
containing sleeve.  It was almost painful to watch the fierce muscle stabs
of his loins as he shot off his glory.
     Erica could not keep the wildly bursting blade in her mouth . . . it
didn't matter.  The silken pressure of the sleeve more than made up for
it.  As he tapered, Cord had to catch his small figure or he would've
fainted on top of the woman.  As it was, Cord had to roll him over on the
bed, because he had completely flipped out on this pleasure trip and
fainted.
     Erica fell back on the bed with an embarrassed short laugh.
     "Your suit really works.  A short run and he's passed out.  I've
never seen anything like it."
     "First there had to be a gorgeous woman that turned him on," said
Cord.
     She sat up.  "So I had my adventure, and I thank you both."  She
started to reach for her bra.  Cord sat down, grabbed one smooth, nude
shoulder, captured her head and kissed her.
     "Mrarrrrr . . . no!" she gasped, pulling free. "I don't want . . ."
     "But you haven't felt the full effect of my SS. I wanted Andy to show
you.  We just didn't get that far."
     "Oh, Mr. Bannister, I COULDN'T.  Two men in a motel room, why, my
goodness . . ."
     He arched her back, locked his mouth on one of her incredible tits
and palmed the other. That hard hot nipple in his mouth made his breathing
go short.  My God, this woman in his suit, with these breasts could turn
the world on fire.
     "Oh, now, don't," she begged.  "Don't DON'T. AH . . . AH!"
     As might be expected, she was extremely breast sensitive.  She
writhed helplessly in his arms, pleading and begging.
     "You see, they're so big, I feel so, sooooo much when anyone ohhh,
haaaa, you're biting . . . ahhh, please, oh please . . ."
     He transferred up to her velvet lips and kissed her, driving a hot
tongue inside to ravage her wetness.  Her punished nipple now received a
hot kneading with the warmth and smoothness of his saliva.
     "Oh, ha, heeee.  Now, you're kissing me and I . . . I . . ."
     Her loins started to buck.  A dark stain appeared at her crotch, as
her thrilled cunt expressed its lubricant ecstasy.
     She jerked free of Cord with a massive effort and stood up, half
nude, a gorgeous sight in her distress and confusion.  "Oh, I just can't
allow this, Mr. Bannister.  "It's too MECHANICAL with suits, penises in
plastic and microwaves."
     "I'll take off my suit."
     "NO, NO!  I have to go."
     Cord felt anger.  The woman's husband cheated on her with a young
coed, making her flee to the bigger city to get sex revenge.  But she'd
only dipped her toe in the water and wanted to flee.  Like Andy, she was
so sex shy that she was almost impossible.  He wanted to test the effects
on his suit, on her.  In fact, she was a much better subject than Marsha,
who'd been ready, willing and able.
     "Before you go, let me at least revive Andy and run a test."
     "Absolutely not!"
     She made the mistake of diving for her bra. Cord seized her half-nude
torso and flung her face down on the bed.  He was not given to badgering
unwilling females into sex, but this was impossible.  SHE wanted IT, she
was available and hot, yet some stubborn morality wanted to cheat her.
     "I can't let you miss your adventure," he grunted.  He put a knee in
her back and peeled off her suit the rest of the way along with her
panties, exposing her bare ass, graceful back thighs and legs.  She was
built, all the way down.
     "Oh, my goodness, you . . . you," she sputtered.
     She squirmed but without conviction.  That part of her that was
turned on wanted to lose. Sure now that her desires were high and hot and
she needed a firm hand, he boldly dug his hand between her legs to feel
her cunt.
     "AH, HOOOOO!" she went, bucking up, her eyes staring.  The insolence
of the invasion of her private parts made her quiver.  "Oh, you CAN'T do
this to meeeee!"
     Her cunt was swollen and it was rich with her lubricating oils.  She
practically sucked his fingers into a wet, tight and hot girl passage.
     "Fuck my hand," he commanded.
     "Oh, how can you use such language.  Please don't . . ."
     She suddenly fucked furiously on his fingers, gasping and then burst
into tears.
     "Your using meeee," she wailed.
     Still frigging her cunt, Cord leaned down beside her on the bed so
that he could put his mouth close to her ear.  His voice was so low that
it couldn't be heard a foot away.
     "I want to fuck you, I'm crazy to fuck you, stick my hard, hungry
cock deep in your cunt, make you scream with pleasure, squeeze your sexy
tits, ride your soft ass . . . drive you, fuck you blind . . ."
     He knew the special value of dirty words and wild exageration to a
person who never used them and tried to avoid foolish emotion.
     "I don't give a shit about the suit," he went on. "I never did.  I
just want to ream your cunt, because underneath all that veneer you're a
barnyard bawdy bitch with a wild, rutting cunt, crazy to burn off a forest
of hard pricks."
     "Oh," she wept, "oh, oh, oh."
     As the harsh, hot words burned into her brain, she bucked her belly
faster and faster on his fingers.  He didn't dare take time to even turn
her over.  He flung her legs apart, got between them and introduced his
cock to her crotch in dog-fashion.
     He came up over her body, hugging her nudeness to him, relishing the
soft curves of her back and buttocks.
     "You're so luscious," he gasped, "I don't care whether I put it in
your sexy asshole or your cunt."
     "You . . . you're sooo foul-mouthed," she said. He didn't know if she
was complaining or admiring him.  Probably her professor husband forbid
dirty language and she enjoyed the temporary freedom.
     He found her cunt.  He was wild to dig it into her ripe body.  He
violated her, but if he had any doubts they vanished as her wet, hot sex
tunnel seemed to suck in his prick as she moaned.
     "I . . . I DOING ITTTT!" she cried.
     "We're doing itttttt!" he confirmed.  With the suit turned on to its
most stimulating effects, it sent heavenly friction thrills singing into
his shaft, and at the same time it gave hot messages to her cunt, to
excite her sex network.
     "Hahhhhoooooooo . . . take off the suit," she begged.
     "What?"
     "Don't want mechanical . . . please take off suit."'
     "I want YOU!" she cried.
     It was a woman's statement.  Even as he went half mad with the
delight of driving into her guts, he made a note to remember that.  Have
to solve that problem!
     Andy, on the other side of the big bed, watched them with dulled-down
eyes.  He was just coming out of his pleasure stupor.  Cord managed to
notice that Andy was hard again. His suit was still on, stimulating his
glands to hasten a new batch of jism.  The ultrasonic cleaner had already
powered his last ejaculation and whisked it away.  Cord thrilled to think
that when he finished with Erica, Andy could have another shot.  Maybe the
lad would be cooled down enought to have a good shot the second time,
inside her cunt and lasting a while.
     "I take off . . . suit, ah, ah, just before . . . we come," said
Cord, as Erica fussed again about his dress.
     "Want different position," she told him, humping greedily under him,
her rounded, full ass giving him a delightful feeling of mastery as her
buttocks flexed to his drive.
     "Erica," he cried.
     Maybe the professor had a reason for taking up with the coed.  Maybe
Erica was just a little picky about things.  Nothing satisfied her.
     "Please . . ."
     "If we stop, you'll try to escape," he told her.
     "No, no."
     He preferred the girl facing him anyway. Reluctantly he broke out of
the magnificent, cream friction, turned her over to face him, and he tore
off the top part of his suit.  He spred her legs to resume.
     "I'd better rest a minute," she said, trying to close her legs.
     He snarled at her.  He jerked open her legs, got into her saddle and
quicky fucked up again into that hot, eager cunt.
     "Me you don't turn on and off like a light bulb," he said.
     "You still have the suit on," she protested.
     "How do you know?"
     "It feels so good."
     It was the first and only time in his life Cord could remember having
sex with a woman who nagged even as he and she plunged.  It was really
weird.
     "The suit stays," he said firmly.  "I want to fuck you with it on to
see what it feels like to me. To you."
     She had drawn her legs up to curl around his back, locking them
together in delightful tightness.  Her face was moist and her eyes began
to bug.
     "I THINK I GO!" she sang.
     He felt disappointed.  In this new position on top of her, he had a
shot at her glorious tits and her soft petal lips in French kissing.  But
the signals from the suit had done for her.  She began to strain and
whimper.
     "Give it up, bitch," he ordered.  "Go all the way."
     "Oh, oh, oh."
     "Let your wild, hot cunt explode."
     "Ah, ah, ah."
     "Suck my hard prick off my belly.  Scream and die with it!" he cried.
     "AH . . . AHHH!"
     Then she gave a shrill cry of feminine submission, arched her back to
lift his great weight in a tense, trembling paralysis of her #leasere
nerves and then began to explode her girlhood.
     "FUUUUCKED!" she sang.
     Throb, throb, throb.  The suit picked up her deep gut quakes of
orgasm, amplified them and transmitted them to Cord's hot, glowing shaft.
It was fantastic to feel the true power of orgasm.  For a split second, he
almost weakened and pitched his own semen in response to her excitement.
     "I never felt so gooood!" came her cry of utter delight.  Her body
shook and bucked as she gave up her entire sex treasure to the engineer.
Cord savored her submissive sex death as he fucked in and out of the
expiring cunt even faster. Even after her first runs, she surged up for a
second series of spasms, then fell back a soft, nude and helpless doll,
placid in his arms.  He kept driving into her belly and she came up for a
third time to quake, glove on his prick and sing out her joy.
     "TOO MUCH.  TOOO SEXY MUCH!" she yipped.
     After that hot third run she fell back again, her eyes glazing.  He
looked down on her reddened, moist and fucked-out body and thought that
the elegant, dainty and persnickety professor's wife had come a long, long
way in a short time.
     He couldn't help a few chuckles of delight. Erica had had her
adventure now.  Meanwhile, he could give himself over to the pleasures of
her ripe body without stint.  He attacked her luscious breasts at once,
whipping himself into a fury as he fucked the dazed, relaxed girl without
any need to care for her little sex hangups.  She was almost as lost as
Andy had been at the end of his furious orgasm.  Score two for the suit!
     Cord had studied female sexology at some length, concluding that the
unconscious urge of the orgasmic woman was to suck the man's entire body
inside of her, starting with the prick that rode her cunt, and recreate
the human outside of her, in a baby-making effect. The male fantasy was
quite the opposite, since the man wanted to flood and burn the female
belly with a hard cock and hot jism until he melted a hole from her crotch
to her throat. This coring effect made his fantasy of wanting to see his
jism, shot off fiercely in the girl's belly, come spuming out of the soft
throat.
     He gave himself up to that fantasy now as he pounded down to his own
delicious sex death. He felt his cock and his liquid fire, boiling inside
was powerful enough to drill and core incredibly deep into that submissive
female belly.
     With the suit on full, he rode up his flashpoint, exulting:
     "HERE IT COMES . . . HERE'S THE REST OF YOUR ADVENTURE, ERICA!"
     He froze.  He had to give up two or three wounded gasps of intensity
as he went into paralysis and got ready to throw.  The suit was able to
prolong this fantastic state where male or female hung between heaven and
limbo, eagerly anticipating the coming explosion.
     "NOW!"
     He burst, hot seed scalding out of his big cock.  Spurt, spurt,
spurt.  It felt so good, amplified by the suit so that each pleasure
sensation fully used up the capacity of his nerves to experience delight.
     "Ohhhhhhhh."
     Wham, wham, wham.  Deep in the girl's fucked body, hot sperm surging
in her channel, boiling, singing, trying to make that baby in her hot,
ripe guts.  His whole body jerked as he delivered the seed in ecstatic
spasms of bursting manhood, the pleasure giving him a superorgasm that the
suit guaranteed every time.
     Yet even as he spent, he felt a slight disappointment.  Nature won
out after all, he really wanted his cock free of the sleeve, hot prick
meat spurting in hot cunt flesh, with nothing between them.  He gloried in
his spend and savored a complete, rinsing joy, but already his mind seized
the problem he hadn't truly faced before.
     As he tapered, still hugging the semi-conscious, soft and warm girl,
he decided that at the moment of orgasm his suit would have to split the
sleeve and release naked cock into the belly.  This would have to happen
at the moment of paralysis when the suit had done its job.  That would
require fantastic engineering.
     Laughing at himself as he spume off the last of his shots and expired
on the supple body of the woman, he realized that he was close to
corrupting his own sex life in his crazy pursuit of SS sex.
     After he'd rested a moment, he became aware that a hand plucked at
him.  It was Andy.
     "Cord, do you think . . ."
     Cord reluctantly pulled off the warm body and out of the tight cunt.
     "If you're ready . . ."
     "This time I think I can do it right and make it last."
     Cord surrendered Erica to Andy who immediately mounted her and drove
his prick into her cunt.  She stirred, arched up, moaned and uttered a
complaint, not so much on moral grounds as not wanting to have her
euphoric, fucked-out peace disturbed.
     Cord decided that Erica's adventure was growing by the minute and not
likely to end very soon . . .
     It was nightfall when Cord and Andy finally poured the glowing Erica
onto the public Skimmer for Eugene.  During the rest of the afternoon, the
elegant professor's wife had become a complete convert to the suit.  Cord
and Andy had each had two rounds in her cunt and when she reached a state
of near continuous orgasm, had sucked her and masturbated her four times.
     "Greatest day of my life," she told them.  "I'll never be the same
again.  You made me into a WOMAN!  I never really found out how much sex I
wanted.  I've only skimmed the surface.  I want one of your suits in my
house as soon as they're ready.  And a back-up spare besides."
     "Hooo," said Andy, when she was gone.  "I know the suit is a winner
now.  Just leave me one when you go east.  I'm going to live a little."
     "Why not?" asked Cord.  "You've probably missed a hundred chances in
your life until now.  The suit gives you that extra ingredient of
confidence."
     Later Cord gave Andy his conclusions.
     "I've been doing lots of wrong thinking in the lab in Chicago.  All
this time I've concentrated on the female version of the suit.  After all,
the things it does; protecting, easing physical effort, are fetures that
women would appreciate more than men.  I thought sex would be the same.
Women would get a lift and feel bolder."
     "But it's the guys wearing the suit that can turn on women even more
than just the natural attraction."
     "Yes, I even wonder if I need bother with production of the women's
suits."
     He and Andy arranged a party for the final test.  It was set to be
held in a motel public room, with twenty or thirty men, plus wives,
sweethearts, and a few invited models. Ostensibly, Cord would talk about
the non-sex features of the suit.  But a half dozen men would be wearing
the SS under their regular clothes. The women would be young and
attractive. Cord wanted to see if the suit would cause match-ups in a
random situation.
     "Could be dangerous," said Andy.  "Some wives and girlfriends might
hook up with the wrong guy and we might get into nasty tangles."
     "Better to find out before the suit goes on the market.  If it's too
rough, we'll have to cut the microwave power.  There's always risk with a
new technological advance."
     "It won't be dull!" laughed Andy.
     A few hours before the party took place, Cord received a shock phone
call from Chicago and Nelson Harper.
     "There's hell to pay back here," Nelson told him.  "Vice-president
Ellers on our Board hates the SS and the sexed-up robots.  He's the old
guy who thinks A-C should stick to its old operation of producing
electronics for mind movies and house maintenance computers.  We didn't
catch on that he's been sabotaging our work with the Board until the axe
fell.  He's had spies in your lab and Nancy's.  He got the agreement of
half the Board to seize and impound all the sex robots and your suits.
Naturally, the group on our side is screaming."
     "Sounds like a real mess, Nelson.  What do I have to do."
     "For one thing, get back here as soon as you can.  For another, leave
all the suits you have in safe hands out there.  This guy is a real
fanatic and he's got loyal spies everywhere.  I'm afraid he'll grab that
stuff too if you bring it back.  I've protested Ellers has too much
power."
     "Sounds grissly.  How can we strike back?"
     "It'll come down to a final test with a Product Psychology team, the
Rands."
     Cord had heard about the famous couple . . . Montgomery Rand and his
wife.  They consulted for the nation's largest firms, deciding on the
impact of a new product on the public from a moral and economic
standpoint. They were ruggedly conservative.  All the way through the
projects, Nelson had feared that they might be brought in.  He tried to
suggest other Product Psychologists.  Apparently, Ellers had won that one.
     "At least we're playing in the big leagues," said Cord.  "I didn't
think A-C would spend the money, or think itself big enough to hire the
Rands."
     "They weren't, until Ellers made his play. Now, it's the only way
out.  The Rands are giants.  If they decide for us we can beat Ellers. If
they decide against us . . ."
     "There's almost no chance they'll decide for us, Nelson.  Look what
they did in the DuPont case.  Also . . ."
     "Just the same it's our only chance.  I want you back here as soon as
possible, so we can develop a strategy."
     "Tomorrow, Nelson.  I've got a final test tonight."
     Wearing his SS downstairs on the way to the party, Cord felt the
weight of the crises ahead. It was tough enough running these field tests,
but to have somebody back home in your own company tearing you down, that
was outrageous.  The only comfort in the situation was that Nancy Lyons
and her dumb robots were in the same boat as he was.  Yet his resolve was
firm.  The SS was a brilliant invention and would . . . must . . . win out
in the end!
     Cord ran into Andy Lang in the hall before he reached the party room
on the mezzanine.
     "Guess what!  A friend of mine is getting married.  He is having a
wedding reception in the public room next to ours."  Andy's eyes
glittered.
     "Oh, no.  OH NO!" said Cord.  "We don't want any of our SS men
mingling with a BRIDAL party."
     "I just thought . . . for kicks . . ."
     "What has happend to you, old friend?  Since that day with Erica
you've gotten a little wild. Going around all the time wearing that suit
and walking past nubile females, giving them the wink."
     "Shhh.  My wife's here tonight.  No, I just thought it would be fun
to have our suitmen take a walk in the wedding reception room, just as an
added feature."
     "No way!" said Cord, firmly.  "We're running all the risk I want to
take."
     The wedding reception, next door, contained about the same number of
people as Cord's party.  He caught a glimpse of a white cake, a bride in
satin and Champaign glasses.  He pushed Andy on into the SS party and
carefully closed the big double doors.  He forgot all about the wedding
group as he went through the explanations and demonstrations, nonsexual,
of the suits to his assembled crowd.  Then, the party broke up for a
buffet table and serious drinking.  For Cord, this was the real test,
since half a dozen men circulated in the crowd wearing the suits turned
on.  So far there'd been no incidents, but with inhibitions released by
good drinks and good companionship, it would be interesting.  The people
had loved the novelty of his suits in his demonstration and everybody was
in a good mood.
     Cord stood by the door, watching the crowd. He had his own suit
turned on, because it seemed only fair to him to be in the thick of it.
Andy, on the other hand, had diplomatically not worn a suit that night,
since his wife was with him.
     Andy came up and said.  "That wedding group next door . . ."
     "No way," said Cord.
     "Listen," said Andy, stung, "I just want you to go in and meet old
Wilbur.  He's given a lot of business to A-C, and I've told him enough
about the suits that he wants to meet you."
     "On his wedding day?"
     "Old Wilbur keeps his eye on the ball at all times.  I thought we
might even slip him a suit for his honeymoon."
     Cord thought a minute and decided against that.  It didn't seem to
fit a wedding night.  But he finally agreed to step next door and meet
"Old Wilber".
     The wedding party was just about as oiled up as his own group.  It
was a typical reception with old and young, handsome and ugly, well
dressed and poorly dressed.  Old Wilbur turned out to be a man in his
forties with a close-cropped hair cut and steely eyes.  He seemed to be
surviving the emotional excitement of his wedding reception with
remarkable stoicism. Cord decided he was either squiffed or bored by the
party.
     When Cord met the bride, he guessed that Wilbur really had his mind
on the wedding night to come.  She was only about nineteen or twenty, and
a real dish, decked out in her white satin.  Cord was astonished, because
the girl looked more like Wilbur's daughter than his bride.  Wilber had to
be over forty.
     "A-C is a dumb company," said Wilbur.  "Too much quality.  People
don't want quality.  They want big panels of flashing lights and lots of
knobs and dials in electronic equipment. Always have, always will."
     "We've done pretty well," Cord protested.
     "Andy told me about your new suits.  Sounds like a dumb idea.  Nobody
I know would want to go around in a plastic suit."
     "We think there might be a small market," said Cord, swallowing his
anger.  After all, it was the man's wedding day.  Andy looked embarrassed.
     "Shall we cut the cake?" asked a female voice.
     It was the new bride, taking hold of her groom's arm.  Cord was
introduced and said the proper things.  The new Mrs. Watson was a dazzling
beauty with platinum hair, large green eyes and a breathtaking figure,
especially in her white satin gown.  Usually, brides didn't look
particularly sexy to Cord, but this one did.  The satin folded and flowed
over high, young breasts, a trim, firm figure, a flat little belly and a
magnificent, ripe rear. She had a soft smile and a pleasant personality.
Once again, Cord marveled at how people seemed so mismatched in marriages.
Wilbur went with a hatchet-faced, stern and plain wife with perhaps beady
eyes, he thought.  Instead he was tied to this delightful and sexy young
girl.
     Cord chatted a few moments, anxious to break away.  He saw no point
in hearing any more of Wilbur's blunt, negative comments.
     Then it became essential.  Sheila Watson, the young bride, began to
turn on his Smart Suit.



                                Chapter 7

     Sheila, the young bride, clung to his arm and took Cord around the
room, introducing him to everybody.  From the sparkle in her eye, the
blush on her cheek and the tight way she clutched his arm, Cord feared
that she was more in the mode of the wild Marsha than the careful Erica.
My God, it would be pure diaster if the poor, unsuspecting girl had an
orgasm right in the middle of her wedding reception, not knowing what it
was that turned her on.
     The suit turned her on, but Cord couldn't very well reach inside his
clothes and turn off the broadcast unit without making an obscene
spectacle of himself before dozens of people. Wilbur Watson, an important
wholesaler of A-C products, would probably drop the whole A-C line, and
Andy had told him the man controlled the whole Northwest territory,
     Three times he tried to make his escape but each time she clung to
his arm tighter.  Her warm thigh brushed his over and over and he hated to
think of the hot chaos that must be going on under that bridal satin in
the region of her lower abdomen.
     People were beginning to notice her animation and overfriendliness,
and in a moment Wilbur himself would be coming to claim her.
     In desperation, Cord finally marched her out into the hall.
     "My dear young lady," he told her, "I know this sounds strange, but
it happens that I'm wearing an invention that sometimes causes arousal in
females.  I can't turn it off without practically removing my pants.
You'll be safe once I get back to my party, and you to yours, with a wall
between us."
     "Forget inventions!" she cried.  "You've got to help me.  You think I
want to spend my wedding night with that horrible man in there? I know - I
just know - that you're the one to help me."
     "What?" Even Cord's quick mind couldn't grasp the young bride's
astonishing words.
     "I had to marry him on account of my father and mother.  I HAD to.
My father's worked all his life for Wilbur.  He's due of a terrific
pension.  Wilbur has the habit of firing people just before they get to
their pensions."
     "There are laws," interjected the now-sweating Cord.
     "Not to save my father!  He got sick a couple of months ago, and
Wilbur is within his rights to let him go on the half-scale Social
Security we have these days.  About that time Mom asked me if I'd date
Wilbur because he was interested in me.  One thing led to another."
     "My God"'
     "He won't dare fire his father-in-law.  My folks won't see any of his
money, you can bet, even if he is rich, but at least Dad will get his
pension in a couple of months.  Right after that I figure a divorce is
safe - Wilbur doesn't stay with one woman for long.  But Dad will have his
pension and even Wilbur can't take it away, once he gets it."
     "Sheila, this is all very sad, but . . ."
     "It's just that I'm a virgin.  I'm not going to give my maidenhead to
Wilbur, even if I have to seduce a bellboy."  Her face was flushed, her
voice shrill.  "I can stand him after that.  It's just this little private
thing I have - not to give him my first treasure, that's all.  The rest
I'm glad to do for my folks."
     "Sheila, this is insane."
     "You walked into the room, Mr. Bannister - Cord.  I knew.  I KNEW at
once you were exactly the man I needed."
     "The suit," moaned Cord.
     "You've got to help me."
     Cord looked around desperately.  Before he could answer the reception
door opened and Wilbur came out, looking mean.  He glared at his new wife
and Cord.  Then he marched up and seized her arm.
     "Well, Bannister, I see you're playing the usual lecherous A-C
executive.  Whenever your company men come to town, I have to hire half
the hookers in Portland.  But sneaking out with a man's bride."
     "Wilbur," said Sheila, "that's uncalled for!"
     "SHUT UP!" Wilbur glared at his bride. "You think I don't know that
half the men in that room aren't patting your round, sexy rump and making
cracks?  You like it, don't you?"
     She colored and tears slid down her cheeks. "I . . . I have to be
friendly.  Nobody patted."
     Cord's jaw hardened.  "Listen, Watson, I brought your wife out here
in privacy to discuss your favorite Skimmer.  I thought A-C might make you
a nice wedding present, since you're one of our big wholesalers and we
didn't know about this wedding.  But if you want to get huffy . . ."
     Wilbur's face fell.  Also his eyes gleamed at the thought of an
expensive, free Skimmer.
     "Just kidding, Cord.  Sheila, I was just putting you on.  Maybe I had
one too many drinks, huh?  You go right ahead.  You plan it all out.
Can't you two take a joke?  I was only trying to have a little fun."
     Cord edged to the door of his own party.
     "I'll work it out with Andy, Wilbur.  Nice to have met you, Sheila."
He ducked into his own party before either could answer.  Holy mud, what a
mess that poor girl was in.  But he really couldn't help her and there was
no point in antagonizing a big A-C wholesaler.
     Even as he sought Andy, he was annoyed with himself to find that his
cock was half hard. The beautiful, distressed girl in the white, gleaming
satin was a real turn-on.  But adultery with a virgin bride before her
wedding night?  That was beyond insanity. Things were pretty crazy in this
United States of the 90's, but there had to be some limits.
     He found Andy who made a quick report. Two of the men wearing suits
had not made any significant contact with females to this point. Two
others seemed engrossed with female partners in head-to-head
conversations.  Then Andy pointed to a couple making a furtive exit.
     "That looks like a hot hit, Cord.  Business for one of the rooms in
the motel, huh?  We ought to get a rakeoff.  Uh, I can't find the last
guy.  I think he made a sizzling contact early and has already left."
     "Aha, no fist fights, no wild stuff.  At least the suits don't drive
people totally insane."  Except desperate young brides, he thought.
     "No wild stuff.  Pretty good, though.  Two hits, two possibles, two
misses.  That's good enough to sell whole jetloads of your suits."
     Cord felt an urgent need to leave.  He told Andy that there was some
trouble in Chicago and he meant to go upstairs right away, pack, and catch
the midnight jet for the east.  Andy could finish off the party.
     The Ellers matter had to be looked into.  Also Cord felt jolted by
the sad story of the young girl.  He just wanted to get out of Portland.
As a man who spent most of his time in the lab, he was a little bit too
soft-hearted for this field work.  Andy's only request was that Cord leave
his SS for him, which Cord was glad to agree to.
     Upstairs in his room, Cord quickly packed and then gave himself the
privilege of a shower.  The SS could clean him ultrasonically, better than
soap and water, but a man raised on showers missed them.  That was another
point to remember in the marketing.
     He forced his mind on the problem of Ellers in Chicago and was
devising various strategies when he emerged naked from the shower - to
find the gorgeous Sheila Watson lying right on the middle of his bed with
a dreamy smile on her face.  She still wore the white satin bridal gown
but had taken it down from the shoulders to reveal soft, rounded shoulders
and her cleavage, which was considerable, almost to her nipples.
     "SHEILA" he gasped.
     Her smile was one of delicious welcome.
     "Not only am I here for myself, dear Cord," she said.  "Wilbur SENT
me!  He insists that I sneak away from the reception and spend all the
time I need with you to be sure he gets the kind of Skimmer from A-C he
really wants.  He found your room number and practically walked me here."
     "Ohmigod."
     Cord felt a thickening in his middle, in his loins.  Staring at the
luscious young girl, he could not help the rush of hot blood to his penis
lifting him straight to a hard-on.  It almost seemed like fate was
determined he should have the young girl's maidenhead.
     "Sheila, you may regret throwing yourself at me," he said.
     "NEVER.  There's absolutely no one else I can trust - or want so
much.  "Maybe your invention had something to do with it - but I think I'd
fall for you anyway - and I think you'd fall for me if we traveled in the
same circle."
     He walked over to the bed.
     "You really want it from me, don't you."
     Her eyes flicked on his stiff cock nervously and she blushed.  But
she nodded vigorously.
     Well, he could always let her escape.  He eased over on top of the
girl, sinking into her softness.  After all, she was a virgin and after
she'd had a couple of kisses and caresses, the enormity of what she did
might sink in.  She closed her eyes.  He kissed her.
     That honey-soft, sweet mouth just seemed to fall open like a ripe
peach for him.  He felt a powerful sex surge rush up from his toes.
VIRGIN!  His big cock, locked between their bellies, exuded a big stain of
preseminal fluid on the satin of her bridal gown.  He moaned in pleasure
as he moved his belly on her softness.
     He felt her heart pound as she let him probe her mouth, tried to find
an escape for her shy pink tongue which could not escape as he sucked and
teased it.  Her breath was so sweet! Her saliva was so pure!  Hooooo!
     "Cord," she crooned.  "I really want you.  I really want it!"
     He pulled the gown down and cupped one of her breasts in the sheerest
net bra he'd ever felt.  Her beauties weren't as big as Erica's or
Marsha's, but they were full, ripe globes with flint hard nipples.
     "Oh, oh, oh," she went.
     He tongued down her sweet young skin and bit the exposed nipple
through the sheer bra. She surged under him.
     "Oh, Cord.  Cord.  I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!" she panted.
     Who was the aggressor?  Who the shy one? Dizzy with desire, Cord
pulled off her body and began to peel off the bridal gown.  She wore the
sheerest net panties he'd ever seen, a match for the bra which was hardly
more than a transparent film.
     Her body was absolutely elegant with that tautness of youth, yet the
ripeness of fuckable girlhood, slender curves, white smoothness,
suppleness, a dainty navel and flash of platinum pubic hair and the
exciting sight of a pink cunt slice, innocent and small.  She had richly
stained her panties.
     "HIS lingerie," she explained.  "He insisted."
     Cord removed the filmy things carefully for fear of tearing them.
     "We'll have to see that Mr. Watson gets a first-rate Skimmer," he
said.  His budget could easily take care of that.
     "I don't care if he gets nothing," she said.  "I don't care if he
gets my body for a while - as long as WE do this."
     She had a sex blush down to her shoulders and a romantic, far-off
look in her eyes.  Her cunt stained the silk of her inner thighs even when
he wasn't touching her.  There was not much use for a lot of foreplay.
This female was HOT!
     He was ready too.  That luscious girl body cried out for penetration
and his prick was crazy to slake its lust inside of her.
     He mounted her, canted up her belly and spread her legs.  She closed
her eyes, bit her lower lips with perfect teeth and said, "OH, HEAVEN.
YOU'RE SAVING MEEEE."
     He shook his head at his last lingering doubt and fit his prick to
her cunt.  It seemed impossible that this thick, hard blade could fit into
that dainty pink slice.
     "How old are you, Sheila?"
     "Twenty.  I should've become a woman long ago.  You see how close a
call I had?"
     He grunted.  He fit his cock inside of her cunt, fucked an inch and
found her maidenhead.  It was real; a thick hymen that blocked him.  The
head of his cock thrilled to her heat and youthful girl syrup.  He felt a
mad desire to punch and tear and penetrate her belly.
     "Oh," said Sheila.  "Oh, my goodness.  Oh, oh."
     At first he thought he'd already hurt her. Then he saw that she
strained in pleasure.  She was much hotter than he'd thought.  It figured.
There was her high emotional excitement to begin with, her desperation to
find a suitable man to escape the indignity of giving her young womanhood
to the man she felt forced to marry.  Then Cord appeared, a body type and
personality that she was susceptible to.  On top of that he wore his SS
with the power on full.
     She gasped.  Her slim belly trembled as if it weren't a part of her.
Her cunt, penetrated only an inch, throbbed.  Orgasm.  It wasn't a massive
orgasm, but a sweet, throbbing, aching release of her hot tensions and
romantic feelings.
     He rubbed against her hymen gently fucking against her clit to carry
her through.
     "Oh, I'm sexed up," she whined.  "I'm giving to you.  Ahhhhhh."
     "Let it all go, Sheila," he said.
     He felt a hot bloodlust sweep up his legs and belly.  He timed his
thrusts so that he caught her still in her pleasure, hoping that her pain
of deflowerment might be mitigated by her ending orgasm.
     "UNK!" he went, cock-thrusting into her.
     He'd never felt such a wonderful sensation, since he'd never
deflowerd a strongly held cunt like this.  The fury inside of him to
batter open and conquer this tender belly was incredible.
     "OHHHH.  OWWWW!" she cried, surging up in pain.
     His first thrust had been masterful.  He'd felt her thick maidenhead
tear.
     "Oh, Cord," she cried.  "Cord."
     "It has to hurt a little."
     "I'm . . . so glad it's you."
     He let her rest for a second while he panted in his own excitement.
When he looked down there was a dribble of her virginal blood on his
blade.  The blood in his own body roared past his ears.  He gripped her
hips, looked down, saw her tremble.  But the surgeon must cut . . .
     "Unk!"
     "God!" she screamed.
     They both felt her flesh tear once more.  That time Cord immediately
felt the small stream of blood on his cock, thinner than her sex oils.
The sensation of ripping her hymen almost made him come, it felt so great.
That instinct must be deep in every man, to open and possess the
attractive female.
     "Oh, Cord, Cord, we'll have to slow up.  It burns!  It aches!  It
hurts!"
     "There's . . . uh . . . no easy way, Sheila.  It hurts now or it
hurts later.
     Her eyes were big on his.
     "I think one more shot."
     "Ahhh, God," she wailed.
     His cock, more than two inches in, was crazed by the hotness, the
tightness and especially the resistance.  He drew back.  She began to
wail.
     "Ohhhhhh."
     "Unk!  In!" he cried.
     Her hymen tore and ripped.
     "YEEEEEE-OHHHHHH!" she screamed, trying to fight off the mastering
cock.  It was no good.  He held her securely at the hips and rammed home a
fierce blow that made her rock in pain.  His cock burst through her
restraint and shot halfway up her opened cunt, blood pouring now.
     "NOOOOOO," she gasped.
     He dry-throbbed and felt the sweep of delicious pleasure almost too
great to stand without bursting.  He drove his cock the rest of the way up
her cunt until he could go no further.  The friction, the tightness, her
heat and the extra ingredient of that blood flow excited him to where he
feared he'd lose control.
     He eased down on her body and tried to kiss her, holding her fuck-
locked with his prick against her womb.  It was no good, though, because
she cried from the recent pain, her lips quivering.  He started to suck
one of those gorgeous little tits, still nipple-hard.
     He felt a fierce heat and lust rush through his belly.  He gave a
great cry.
     "Sheila!"
     He drew his big cock back in that impossibly tight cunt and thrust
forward once more, every nerve on fire, as if to reconfirm that he'd
battered through her girlhood resistance.  It was the sexiest in-fuck
stroke he could ever remember.  He started to come even as he made her.
     Ineffable, delirious pleasure seized his cock. He rammed home once
more to her uterus and exploded.
     "GOOOONE!"
     Spurt, spurt, spurt.  His jism gouted out against her womb, exploding
with savage fury and utterly magnificent pleasure and release. The hymen-
taking had been too much even for his sturdy sex equipment to undergo and
not burst.  So he enjoyed it.
     Spurt, spurt, spurt.  His cock flexed and rinsed with toe-tingling
joy as he shot off his darts of manhood to wound her belly, adding body-
hot semen to the cunt oils and blood inside of her.  Instinctively she
gripped him and took his spuming orgasm while he cried out in pleasure and
seeded her, excited to know he laid alien sperm in her cunt on her wedding
day ahead of her husband.
     "Whoooo," he went in relief as he finally tapered.  "Well, Sheila, we
did it."
     Her pain was gone.  Her face wore an ecstatic look.
     "I almost killed myself this morning to think there was no way I
could cheat him of the virginity he doesn't deserve.  OH, THANK YOU."
     "He might kill you when he finds out you aren't a virgin."
     "Oh, Cord, you don't think I ever let him TOUCH me!  He'll never
know.  There are plenty of girl virgins who are born without actual
hymens.  I'll tell him I'm one of those. Believe me, he'll buy that.  He
expects plenty of mileage out of my body, and he'll probably get it."
     Cord could only shake his head in the irony of the situation.  If
Wilbur had been halfway decent, if Cord hadn't been wearing the suit, if
Andy hadn't insisted on Cord meeting the Watsons . . .
     Cord's cock, to his surprise, did not go soft.  It remained half
hard.  After a while he began to move again, truly fucking the girl now,
and she, pain gone, responded with a sexy sliding of her loins on his
prick.  They rocked in higher and hotter ecstasy, thrilling to Sheila's
first non-virginal fuck.  They kissed so hard and long that both their
cheeks were wet with the other's saliva and reddened.  He ate her tits
until she softly screamed she could stand it no longer.
     Then they rushed down the incredible delicious corridor of orgasm,
Sheila twisting up boldly now, giving up her sex treasure.
     "Cord - I love you - your fucking me - maybe on some future trip . .
."
     At that moment in the sweetness of his own rise to explosion, he felt
like he wanted to come west once a week and fuck the platinum blonde's
soft belly off.
     "With you, baby!"
     "OH, OH, OH."
     "AH, AH, AH."
     For the second time they rose to sexy paralysis and locked tight, and
Cord spewed his jism into her sopping cunt, while she gloved on his member
and throbbed off her first no-pain glory.
     "Haaaaaa."
     "Whooooo."
     Once again it was exhaustion time.  But when Sheila finally rose,
cleaned herself, restored her filmy lingerie and returned to her bridal
gown, Cord saw that only fifty minutes had passed.  There was only the
faintest of stains of his preseminal fluid on her satin wedding gown.
That could be blamed on spilled champagne.  When she was gone with a final
whisper, kiss and promise, Cord fell back naked on the bed, bemused and
euphoric, thinking that maybe he'd missed a lot in field testing after
all.  He really should get into the field, out and among the customers
more often. An hour like this was worth ten weeks of pesky buyers'
insults!
     The dissident group of Board members who agreed with Vice-President
Ellers met at his Lakeshore mansion in Chicago to discuss their strategy.
Ellers started the meeting by showing them Big Sam, the sex robot and the
woman robot developed in Nancy Lyons' lab. They stared at the sex parts on
the nude robots, shook their heads and muttered dire predictions about the
end of the A-C Corporation if those units ever got mass produced.
     "I practically stole these from the lab," said Ellers.  "If I hadn't
that sly rat, Nelson Harper, might've sneaked them off to reproduce them
in some machine shop and outwit us.  Harper screamed, but the president
said it didn't really matter where they were until the final decisions
were made.  After all, I have more seniority than any working A-C exec."
     He had also impounded all the Smart Suits he could find in Cord
Bannister's lab.
     "Most of the units Bannister's completed went to the West Coast with
him.  But we have a powerful wholesaler out there, my good friend, Wilbur
Watson who has a thumb on Andy Lang, the West Coast A-C man.  When
Bannister left the coast, he gave them to Lang. Watson will figure a way
to get his hands on them and shove 'em back to me.  Soooo, my friends, at
this point we have the dangerous radicals at the Advanced Labs completely
stymied.  Not only have they stopped their work, but I have their
completed units. Unorthodox - but effective."
     He was applauded for his daring, if eccentric, actions.  He went on
to point out that the SS's didn't look as dangerous as the robots, nor as
obscene, but they might possibly be even more embarrassing to A-C.  When
he described them, everyone shuddered.
     "There is an employee under Bannister, a Marybelle Fletcher, a nice,
innocent married lady.  She is deeply attached to her husband and has not
been married long.  I have her affidavit that both Bannister and Harper
actually seduced her in the Lab, using the Smart Suit, against her will
and desire and almost ruined her marriage by trying to addict her to
unnatural sex."
     There were more shudders.  Someone asked about the Rands, who were to
be brought in to arbitrate the situation.
     "No one can buy the Rands," said Ellers.  He looked around at the
group with a dark look. "They are bigger than the whole of A-C, just the
two of them.  There are no Product Psychologists alive in their league.
But . . ."
     His narrow, white-haired head broke into a beaming smile.
     "They have recently come into some exceptionally low-priced stock
options on A-C common.  As holders of a nice block of corporation stock,
they will naturally be deeply concerned on the future operations of our
firm. No one can BUY the Rands.  But as conservative with a chance to
thrive as A-C thrives, I think we can count on their negative report on
his sexual nonsense that Advanced Labs is trying to sell."
     He went on to say that he planned to leave next morning for
Washington to interview certain high government officials.
     "We can also count on negative reports from there, by the time this
comes to a head next week.  My wife's in Europe at the moment, but my son
and daughter are in residence and will guard these obscene objects until I
get back. Meanwhile if you wish to examine these despicable inventions
while I'm gone just call Jimmy or Babs and they'll be glad to help you.
They're smart kids and won't let anybody near the stuff except those
authorized - and they'll have your names."
     Everyone thought the V-P Ellers had done a brilliant job of saving
the company, and the meeting broke up after an old-fashioned marijuana
smoke, a round of cigarettes of the kind that had almost disappeared
entirely from the U.S. except in small groups of older people in the
Midwest.
     It was the next night that young Jimmy Ellers, twenty-two, and his
sister, Barbara, twenty-one, decided to hold a party for their frinds to
show off the weird stuff their father had brought to the house.  No one
had ever heard of a pair of robots with sex parts, except those dirty,
back-alley attachments that were so weird and ludicrous.  These were
factory made and corporation sponsored.
     Babs, Barbara's unoriginal nickname, was a little doubtful.
     "Jimmy, if Dad finds out we showed off this stuff, we could get
killed."
     "He won't find out.  I've read the manuals and I know how everything
operates, so there's no problem."
     "You don't actually plan to have SEX with those robots or those
suits?" said Babs, her eyes big.
     "Of course not, you crud.  Who among today's kids would go for
machine sex.  The idea makes everybody vomit.  But the Phillips' had that
great party where we ran those blind Skimmers out over the Lake, the
machines he got from his dad's plant, and the Stimsons got a whole pound
of Prelude for us to trip out on, since his folks are big with the police.
Our party's going to top everything that's been done this year.  Or any
year.  We'd be dumb to miss this chance to put on the hit of the season."
     Babs picked up one of the Smart Suits.
     "We ought to go over this stuff ahead of time anyway so we won't
sound dumb when everybody gets here."
     "So put on the suit.  There's a manual right there.  You'll have to
strip, though.  It goes on next to the skin."
     "What time is the crowd due?"
     "What time do our parties ever start? Anybody who shows up before
eleven o'clock is a dull sludge.  We've got a couple of hours."
     "I'm going to take this to my room and try it on."
     "You go ahead," said Jimmy.  "You take the Smart Suits.  I'm more
interested in the robots anyway.  I'll practice right here in the
library."
     When Babs left, Jimmy carefully closed the library door and wished
again that it had a lock on it.  But Babs didn't come back and he figured
he had all the privacy he needed.  Guiltily, he undressed, his hot eyes
fixed on the female robot.  Despite what he'd told Babs, he was keen to
fool around a little with that sexy little machine.  What you did in
private, no one would ever know about.
     The house was empty of any other humans. Like most wealthy families,
the Ellers relied on expensive robots for most of the house work - robots
of the conventional kind.  They hired outside services for those jobs the
domestic robots couldn't do.
     Jimmy, though slim in build, had a heavy duty penis which gave him a
lot of trouble.  He thought about sex all the time, and he chased all of
the girls in his circle.  The trouble with that was, right now the in-fad
was to be cool about sex and brag about celibacy.  Further, the girls
caught on that he was overboard in this department and so they shunned
him, just as guys shunned the girls who put out too easy and too often.
     As a result, he was desperate most of the time.  He'd tried making a
sex object out of the robot housemaid, but although she looked very good,
her hard body and her inability to respond made her unsatisfactory.  He'd
given up on that.



                                Chapter 8

     The female robot that his father had brought to the house was a
different matter.  She had a soft skin, dreamy eyes, a beautiful face, a
fabulous figure - and she had real breasts with nipples and a real cunt
instead of those featureless lumps on her chest like the maid robot who
had a smooth place between the legs where a cunt should be.
     Naked now and half hard, Jimmy cast a look over his shoulder.  All
was quiet in the library and throughout the house.  He could count on Babs
staying interested in that Smart Suit for quite a while.
     He went up to Nancy, the female robot and turned her on.  He
activated the seduction cycle. The manual had told him just what to do.
He said in a trembling voice, "Would . . . would you like to have some
fun?"
     Nancy Lyons' robots all had the advanced memory units to compute
several thousand human conversation bits and make a suitable, if simple,
answer, making them much more sophisticated than work robots which only
answered to commands.
     "I'd like to have some fun," said Nancy in a warm, sugary voice.
     "I . . . I'm going to undress you!" the youth blurted.
     "I'd like that."
     She was a sexy piece, with soft curves, gleaming eyes, sensual lips
and a soft, feminine voice.  She had beautiful brown hair, brown eyes and
an exquisite cream complexion. Jimmy was all the way hard now.
     Breathing fast, he undid the front of her jumpsuit.  He thrilled at
what he saw.  Where the Ellers house robot had a hard metallic surface
painted like skin, Nancy had a warm, pliable torso, with soft indentations
where ribs were, a navel and a rounded belly.  She breathed and if you
touched the right spot you felt the beat of her heart.  She was so
startingly like a girl that when Jimmy first saw her he tried to talk to
her just like a human.
     He started to lift the jumpsuit off her shoulders to reveal her
nudity when he felt someone staring.  He spun around with a gasp. It was
only Big Sam, the male robot, staring at him with indifferent eyes.  Jimmy
gave a short laugh.  He sure was nervous and guilty about this!
     He activated Big Sam and walked him into a corner well out of the
way.  Even being stared at by a robot had bothered him.  Then Nancy waited
for him with a welcoming smile, sparkling eyes, and her jumpsuit split
open from throat to crotch.  He could even see the top of her brown pubic
hair.  God, what a job they'd done on this one!
     "Muh-moving along!" he said cheerfully and striped off the suit to
expose the robot's body.
     "Wow!"
     "Glad you like it," said Nancy.
     The best looking girl Jimmy had ever been with was Vera Poldanski, a
young married student at the University, temporarily on the outs with her
husband.  This robot had it all over Vera by a hundred times.  Nancy the
robot was BUILT!  At that moment Jimmy knew his father was dead wrong
about A-C sex robots. He'd pay a small fortune to have a housemate like
this, and he knew most guys would.  Why, with a doll like this at home,
you wouldn't have to take any crap from some dumb girl that wanted thirty
things before giving out sex. And you'd meet few girls as good-looking and
as well-built.
     Turned on like fury, Jimmy stared at the well-shaped, full naked
breasts and at the end of Nancy's belly where a delicate pink groove of a
cunt waited him.  Unlike a real life girl, the robot made no fuss about
his staring, nor did she try to cover her shame at nudity with brash
aggression.  She just smiled at him and waited.
     Jimmy remembered what it said in the manual if a guy were shy.  Well,
he was shy, all right, at this moment.
     "I'm shy," he told Nancy.
     To the robot this was a command.
     "I love shy lovers," said Nancy.
     She stepped up to him, took one hand and brought it to her ripe
breast, where a nipple stood out, erect and eager.
     "I love to have my breasts felt," said Nancy.
     Jimmy dug his hand into that glorious globe and thrilled.  "Wow!"
There was no difference between this breast and, a human one.  In seconds
he was all over her tits with both hands and his mouth, bending back the
supple figure in his arms.
     Nancy's hands got busy.  She took his cock and put it against her
soft belly.  She worked a hand behind his hard-on to press it harder
against her.  Then she undulated her loins to jack him off.  He almost
went out of his mind with pleasure.  For magic seconds he fucked against
the girl's belly, kneading one luscious tit and sucking the other,
transported to heaven.  God, it felt good.
     But he had to break, gasping, for fear of throwing his seed too soon.
He pulled back and stared down at his robot lover.
     "You are a dream!  No fussing, complaining, apologizing."
     "I like everything you do," she said.
     He caught that beautiful head.  He put his lips on hers and kissed
her.  Warm, incredibly smooth lips auctioned on his mouth and then fell
open to lure his tongue inside a hot, wet mouth with a teasing, gyrating
tongue.  He hugged Nancy tight, once again smearing her preseminal fluid
on her naked belly as he sucked off gorgeous French kisses and mingled
saliva with her.
     "Oh, oh, oh," he said when he finally broke. He felt hot enough to
fuck a thousand women. Best of all, she was hot too.  There was a blush on
her face down to her shoulders.  Her body was moist with sex sweat.
     "I want to fuck," she whispered.  "Oh, I want to fuck."
     Unable to speak because it was all so great, he led her to the sofa.
She went down easily and gracefully, spreading her legs, as she smiled at
him.
     "I want it!" she crooned.
     "Baby, so do I!" he cried.  He slid right into her saddle.  There was
an awkward moment when his trembling hand couldn't fit his cock to her
hole but she shifted to help.  He drove his prick into her cunt.
     "WOW!"
     "Love it." she said.
     He felt it to his toes.  She was absolutely as great as any real girl
he'd ever been with.  He drew back and began to fuck into her belly while
she moaned in pleasure.
     His cock shaft had never felt so good.  She seemed hotter, tighter,
more SEXY than any girl he'd ever been with.  At that moment he stopped
making comparisons.  She was no longer a robot.  She was Nancy, his dream
girl and he shot off into the clouds in the hot pleasure of fucking her.
     She seemed to have ball-bearing hips as she rotated back and up
against his belly grunting.
     "I am soooo fucked," she informed him.
     "Baby, you've got it all.  I mean ALL!" he gasped.
     He drove into her faster and faster, feeling her warm oils lubricate
his prick, feeling her cunt draw a little tighter to offer sweet
resistance to his desire to open her up and plunge deep in her.  The heat
of her cunt penetrated right to the middle of his cock.  In addition there
were girlish quivers of pleasure that he felt right back where he lived.
His jism, inside of his body boiled in a fury to blast into her guts.
     Going a little crazy now with all that extra joy, Jimmy folded down
on her luscious body. He almost sobbed with pleasure as he gobbled her
tits, hugged her and whipped his prick in and out at a furious pace, the
friction making a steady burn that was going to crack his skull open with
screaming joy when he finally broke.
     "NEVER - NOTHING LIKE THISSSSS!" he cried in utter ecstasy.
     He began to reach the far pastures of sex now, where everything was
totally animal and serious.  The girl's body became an extension of his
own, a luscious, quaking warmth and moisture that he had to pierce and
penetrate and fuck to glory.
     It was all orgasm now as he began his last furious strokes.
     "I'M GOING TO TAAAKE YOU!" he cried in orgasmic delight.
     The door of the library burst open.  Babs, his sister, staggered in.
She wore a Smart Suit that was transparent against her naked body.  She
glittered and gleamed like a showgirl in some outrageous sex display.
     "HELP ME!  OH, JIMMY, HELP ME!"
     Right at the door of orgasm, dry-throbbing and crazy to throw his
seed, Jimmy jerked up and looked at his sister.  She came across the
library in a peculiar fashion, first taking a few steps and then stopping
to hold her crotch and make lewd sex motions.  Then she staggered forward.
     For a moment, Jimmy was shocked out of his skull to be discovered
like this, fucking the girl robot.  He quickly saw that Babs' distress was
so great that she hardly noticed.
     She reached the sofa and stared down at him with eyes that bugged out
of her head.
     "IT'S - DOING IT - TO MEEEE!" she wailed.  "MAKE IT STOP!"
     "What?!"
     She pointed at her belly.  Even as she did, she had to undulate her
loins.  Jimmy saw that she sweated inside the suit, making the plastic hug
her figure tightly.  In his sexed up mood, she looked like the sexiest
human he'd ever seen, her round tits exposed and hard, her rich belly a-
quiver, her dark pubic hairs plastered to her juices, which also gleamed
on her rounded inner thighs.
     He knew what had happened.  There was a sleeve on the suit that went
up inside the woman and could act like a cock if you hit the right
controls.  She was being masturbated - fucked by the suit.  She had
panicked.
     "Excuse me," he said to the robot.
     "It's all right," said Nancy sweetly.
     He pulled off the robot with a gasp at the cold air on his cock after
her warm passage.  He felt the frustration of interrupted sex.  But he
gallantly felt around his sister's pelvis to find the control to stop the
action.  Her body heat was fantastic.  His hands slipped on her cunt juice
some of which penetrated the suit, as it was supposed to.
     He found the control.  He stopped the sleeve.
     "Ohhh," she said, "ahhhhh, that's better." She came down off her
toes.
     He pushed another semi-hidden control which peeled back a thumbhold
of the sleeve. He eased it out of her, sliding it back into her crack,
like you were supposed to do when you no longer needed it.
     "Ahhh, gooood," she said.
     She collapsed on the sofa beside him.
     "I was so scared.  It was a weird, crazy feeling - like having it
done."
     "It looked like it was fun," he grinned.  He enjoyed seeing his
sister nude.  Back when he'd first gotten sexually hot he'd had crazy
ideas about jumping Babs, because she was a pretty good looking doll, but
he soon found out that incest didn't appeal to her.
     "It looks like you've been having fun too," she said with a grin.
     "Just trying it once, like you were."
     Brother looked at sister.  There she was, her cunt exposed, looking
like a million dollars in that glittering SS, all sexed up and luscious.
Sister looked at brother.  There he was naked, cock hard, streaming with
the fake girl juice of the robot.
     He grabbed her and pushed her down on the sofa in the other direction
from his current love.
     "You're just in time," he kidded.  "I haven't come yet."
     "You're too late," she laughed.  "I just escaped coming."
     She shoved him back but he returned and boldly gripped her pelvis
driving two fingers into her soft, wet cunt that was now exposed.
     "Jim - meeeee," she cried.
     "I can always do it to the robot.  Here you are all hot and ready."
     "I'm not all hot and ready.  Oh, oh, oh."
     She bucked on his fingers, holding his arm, trying to escape.  Yet he
sensed there was something different about her.  Her normal resistance was
down.  She was an aroused, feral female who'd just traveled close to
orgasm, and it was possible - just possible - that he could fuck her!
     "Cut it out!" she said, struggling.
     "Sorry," he said.  "I thought you wanted fingers."  He pulled his
lubricated fingers out of her soft, velvet tunnel.  "What you really want
is COCK!"
     He pushed her down and got on top of her. She squirmed but he got a
leg between hers and opened her V.  He dug his cock wildly - and had luck.
He notched her cunt.  He drove his brother cock up into her cunt.  They
hung there a second, face to face.
     "Oh, Jimmy!" she wailed.  "We can't do this. It's incest."
     "Who'd ever know?" he gasped.  He was hot enough to fuck a wall.  He
dug his cock up into her guts all the way.
     "Oh, oh, oh," she went.
     She struggled but without conviction.  She was as hot-blooded as he
was, but had a woman's normal restraint.  In fact, there had been a few
times in her life when he could've seduced her, but he was too dumb to
know it.
     "Don't, don't," she gasped, thrilling to the incestuous cock.
     "I won't, won't," he laughed.  "Unk.  Ahhh."
     After about five strokes he knew he had her. Her eyes rolled back in
her head and she canted up her belly for his driving cock.
     "Jimmy, Jimmy, this is so wrong."
     "And it feels - soooo gooood!"
     "Ah, it does.  Ah, ah, ah.  You're fucking meee."
     "All the way!"
     His deserted robot love lay as he'd left her, legs apart, cunt slowly
drying, an expectant smile on her lips.  She would stay just as hot as she
was until he finished in her or turned off her seduction cycle.  The
thrill of the forbidden incest had driven all thoughts of the robot out of
his mind.
     Jimmy laid down on his sister.  The SS startled him.  That sexy
covering her body felt more naked than if it wasn't there.  He felt her
heat and moisture, her shift and quivers as amplified.
     "Suck my breasts!" she gasped.  "Fuck me harder!"
     The suit enriched her sensations also.  Her brother's body seemed to
burn into her with heightened, smooth sexiness.  She was almost out of her
mind in pleasure.  The suit had left her high.
     He ate her tits one at a time, kneading the other one.  It was
fabulous.  Her nipples were hard and electric in his mouth, against his
palm.  She seemed to feel it to the core of her being.  She grunted and
moaned and thrust on his prick as hotly as the robot had. "Oh, oh, oh.  I
. . . have to . . . come!" she moaned.
     He thrilled to his marrow.  He felt her soft body strain up, and her
eyes got big.
     So far he'd been afraid to kiss her.  But her wet mouth curved in a
rictus of pleasure as she glazed to surrender to him.
     "What the hell!"
     He planted his mouth on hers and drove his tongue inside to suck off
a ripe French kiss, reveling in the use of her wet, helpless mouth.
     "Mmmmm," she went and exploded under him.  Her body arched up.  She
writhed and her breath blasted on his cheek.  He felt all of her animal
female bitch heat as she burst.  Wild cunt throbs squeezed on his prick.
She tore her mouth loose to get air.
     "OH, Oh, Ahhhh, EEEEE!" she keened, giving up her girlhood to him.
Her quakes along his thrilled cock were fabulous.  Her gasps and her body
distress-in-pleasure triggered him.
     "Oh, you sweet sister bitch!" he gasped.
     He felt an ineffable freeze.  He locked deep in her cunt, held her
hips and yawped helplessly.
     "SHOOOOTING OFFFF!"
     Spurt, spurt, spurt.  He laid hot bursts of jism, right against her
womb, completing the incest, crazed out of his mind to think of the
degenerate thing they'd done - yet it felt soooo good.  He spent off
excited gush after gush, seeding her while she surged up and quaked in'
response to the flood of brother jism, both pleasure-locked in the taking.
     "Ahhhhh."
     "Oh, sooo hot!"
     Finally they expired panting, his cock still stiff and completely
buried in her belly, his seed burning and washing inside of her tight
cunt.  She had her eyes closed.  He had his mouth against the soft skin of
her shoulder licking, glowing from the sweet after-effects of the short,
hot run.
     "The robots and the suits - crazy - worth millions," he laughed.
     "Don't I know it," she said ruefully.  "You could never get me into a
sex position if it hadn't been for that suit."
     She rose on an elbow and stared at the Nancy robot, really seeing her
for the first time.
     "My God, your friend looks like a still photo of the world's greatest
hooker."
     "Jimmy turned and stared at the nubile robot, legs open breasts high
with nipples hard, a smile on her lips, and her eyes softly gleaming.
     "How are you doing?" Jimmy asked the robot.
     "I'm ready for love if you are," replied Nancy.
     They both laughed, and Jimmy said:
     "Hey!  Why don't we leave her exactly like this for when the gang
gets here!"
     It was only an hour to Washington and an hour back by first class
jet.  Morton Ellers arrived back in Chicago before midnight, highly
pleased with his trip.  The high level official he knew in the Justice
Department told him that chances were better than good that his Department
would probably go into Federal Court in Illinois, and get an injunction to
stop the manufacture of sex robots.
     "Threatens the sanctity of the home and family, stuff like that," his
friend said.  "Of course Commerce will fight it because it will give the
economy a big boost.  A huge boost. We'd lose in the long run, but it
would have to run through the Supreme Court, and that takes time."
     "If we can't ban 'em, the delay is fine."
     "Oh, you've got a string of delays.  There's the Food and Drug -
they'll have to decide on the health and safety aspects.  You've got a
year there.  After that there's the jurisdictional fights.  Should they be
under control of the Interstate Commerce Commission as they're shipped
from one state to the next, or do they belong to the Federal
Communications Commission because sex is a form of communication and they
use microwaves."
     "How much is that?"
     "Five years, for sure, I'd say.  Social Security is already hassling
the problem of whether owners of robots get social security for the
robot's work wages.  People will be marrying robots, of course, your
lonely old folks and they might get into it.  Health might get into it on
the dangers of sexual exhaustion and related diseases.  You might even
make ten years."
     "I was hoping for a permanent ban."
     His friend smiled at him, sadly shaking his head.
     "That you will not get.  Alcohol, marijuana, good-tasting food
additives - anything that brings the American public pleasure, the
American will buy and you can't stop it.  We learned our lesson in the
70's and 80's with drugs.  Ban 'em and they go like wildfire.  Today the
government is too smart to do that.  We don't ban, we delay.  Nobody will
believe our first injunction; for every expert that sees a threat to the
American way of life another will see the new wrinkle upholding and
reinvigorating worn-out institutions."
     But on the way home Ellers saw that victory was his anyway.  A ten
year delay would be fatal, just as fatal as an outright ban.  The defeat
of Nelson Harper and his perverted assistants was assured.
     Driving home that night Morton Ellers felt proud of himself.  In an
age that mixed too many wild lifestyles, he'd held to the narrow old time
morality.  Sex was for having children. Sex drained a man, took his mind
off life's work, weakened his moral fiber.  Ellers had stopped having sex
with his wife years ago.  Oh, he'd have an oral job with some loose woman
at a convention or out-of-town meeting, but that didn't count.
     He was really proud of the job he'd done on Jimmy and Babs.  They'd
had the most severe upbringing of any kids in Chicago, and they hadn't
gotten into a bit of trouble, where other parents' kids were always in hot
water.  They'd sure be surprised to find him home early from Washington,
when they got up tomorrow morning.
     But when he parked the Skimmer and went into the mansion, he heard
sounds that stopped him.  It was almost as if - as if the kids were having
some kind of party.  He tiptoed down the corridor towards the library.
Then he heard the music and smiled.  The kids were having an innocent
projection party where they played tapes and the rock singers appeared to
be standing right in the room as they sang and played.  Loud - but
harmless.
     He stuck his head inside of the door to tell the kids he was back -
and got the shock of his life.
     On one end of the sofa the big robot was rocking between the legs of
a young, naked girl.  Another sat on the sofa's arm and offered her sex to
be orally mouthed by Big Sam.  The same scene took place on the other end
of the long sofa, only this time it was the female robot with a pimply
young man sawing away into her and a second stood at her head working a
big, wet cock in and out of her mouth.  Jimmy wearing one of those devil
suits, sat on the edge of a chair, another young female with her head
between his legs, nodding and bobbing on his cock.
     What made Morton Ellers shriek with rage was the sight of his
daughter, whom he believed to be a virgin.  She was right on the library
rug with two young men attacking her just as the other young men rode the
girl robot. One was in her saddle, the second a stiff young blade in her
mouth.
     "You rotten sinful jackals!" he shrieked, leaping into the room.
"I'm calling the police. It's jail!  No, I'll kill you all!"
     He ranted and raved and shrieked while the party broke up into more
shrieks and cries of the shattered youngsters as they ended the orgy and
went diving for clothes.  One young man tried to reason with him.
     "She started it.  Your daughter did.  She's been fucking everybody
all evening - must've had ten orgasms.  She's on a sex high, blasted out,
and she got the robots started and made us do it!"
     "ARGGGHHH!" went Ellers and began to strike the vicious young liar.
     The Ellers house seemed quiet when Nancy and Cord arrived,
accompanied by a nervous Nelson Harper.
     "I still don't think it's wise to break into the man's house and
steal back our stuff," he said.
     Nancy's face was set in rock-like firmness.
     "I want Big Sam back.  I mean to get him.  If A-C doesn't want him -
I've had feelers from other companies."
     "If you think," said Cord, "I'm going to let an asshole like Ellers
steal my suits, you're crazy. This man's a Cro-Magnon from ancient times."
     "Well, I'm not going to break and enter," said Nelson and he remained
glumly in the Skimmer.
     Cord and Nancy, cooperating for the first time, sneaked up on the
house dressed in black leotards and with masks, ready for any trouble in
this daring raid.  They did not have to break and enter.  The front door
stood wipe open. Inside there were things tipped over as if a big stampede
had come this way.
     "Some other company stole our stuff!" cried Nancy as they moved down
a big hall.
     "I just hope they killed Ellers," grunted Cord.
     They heard a sound coming from one of the rooms.  They peered in.  A
young man who looked vaguely familiar was locked in hot contact with the
female robot.  Nancy grinned at the hot sex.
     "There's half my team.  When he finishes he'll be too weak to stop me
getting her back."
     "Why she looks just like you!" said Cord. "That must make your spine
tingle."
     "Or something," she answered.  "That has to be young Ellers.  I met
him once at a company party."
     Noise from the library drew them.  They entered a room that was a
shambles.  Furniture was overturned, books spilled out of shelves, liquor
glasses rolled on a sodden rug - but that wasn't the sight that nailed
them at the door.
     There was a man and woman on the sofa.  The man was naked except for
his shirt which flopped obscenely on his thin, aged buttocks. He was
grunting and big eyed as he rocked in the saddle of a young girl, fucking
her like crazy.  She was nude, wholly encased in a glittering Smart Suit.
     "FUCK ME, DAD.  FUCK MY CUNT OFF.  I WANT - TWELVE ORGASMS - GO,
GOOOO."
     "BABS, YOU SWEET BITCH!  I'VE BEEN CRAZY TO FUCK YOUR YOUNG ASS OFF
FOR YEARS.  I WANT DAUGHTER ASS.  I WANT ALL YOU'VE GOT - OH, OH, OH, HERE
IT COMES!"
     Morton Ellers hugged his taken daugher to him.  They saw his bottom
jerk as he began to seed his daughter, keening his hot delight.
     "Fuuuucking you, ohhhhhh," he sang.
     "No wonder he stole our stuff, the horny old crud," said Cord.
     But Nancy didn't answer.  Big Sam stood there, facing the sofa,
smiling politely.  She saw he was turned on.
     "Big Sam!" she called.
     "Yes, Nancy?"
     "TAKE PICTURES.  PICTURES OF THE PEOPLE ON THE SOFA."
     Big Sam nodded and turned his eyes into a camera and took pictures,
as Morton Ellers, helpless, groaned and spumed incest seed into his
daughter.



                                Chapter 9

     A man and a woman sat alone at a sparkling breakfast table atop the
penthouse of the luxurious Century Forward Motel in Chicago, staring at a
glass of water that was faintly tinged with gold.
     "It's a weapon," said Gwen Rand.
     "It can alter minds," said Monty Rand.
     "Used one way it could turn this nation into a body of hard-muscled
athletes," she said.
     "Used another, it could become the most dangerous drug on the face of
the earth," said Monty.
     The Product Psychologists had come to Chicago to deliberate on the
new, mind-blowing product known as Golden Water. Kellogg - General Grocers
was prepared to put a half a billion dollars behind the new product if the
Rands gave it their approval.  If they approved, two hundred thousand new
jobs would be created overnight and countless regional distributorships in
America and elsewhere would employ still more thousands and create minor
fortunes.  The Kellogg - General executives would jet in from Battle Creek
tomorrow.
     Those executives had to come to the Rands. They were too powerful to
bother with going to company headquarters in some minor city. Their
clients must meet them in New York, Chicago, L.A. or San Francisco, and
occasionally in New Orleans if it were Mardi Gras time.
     Their entourage had arrived the night before to sweep the penthouse
for listening devices, since they delt in company secrets worth millions,
to install their chefs in the motel kitchen, to prepare the clothing and
vehicles they would need for this visit, and to set up media safeguards so
their precious time might be saved.  The media were wild to find out what
the Rands worked on, because it shaped the future of America.  They had
already had the customary two-way TV greeting and visit with the governor
of Illinois down in Springfield and would surrender their luncheon hour to
the mayor of Chicago, not without reluctance. Long experience had taught
them that politics made dull luncheon conversation.
     Golden Water was designed as a soft drink for children in grade
schools.  It lessened their desire to eat sugary sweets, it gave them
vitamins and minerals and the reason for its value was it stimulated young
minds towards serious learning.  No one was quite sure how this worked but
it did.  To make better students of the children was a fabulous and useful
contribution towards a better America.
     Wrong.
     The Rands had investigated this product with their usual care and
depth and found out much, much more about it than K-G had ever suspected.
Its molecules combined readily with an incredible number of substances.
It could easily be turned into an addictive drug that permanently warped
minds.  It could be hyped with substances that starved the muscles just
enough to turn the users into twenty-four hour athletes, narrow, fanatical
and totally involved with their body muscles.  Still another additive made
it affect the judgement centers of the mind so the user easily fell under
the sway of any strong-minded demagogue, political or religious leader.
     Worst of all, it made an admirable carrier of chemical warfare
viruses that could wipe out whole segments of a population.
     "Of course there are a hundred harmless additives that could make it
fun," Gwen pointed out.
     "It has a haunting, pleasant flavor that makes it easy to sell," said
Monty.
     "I think it's only good as a prescription drug for children who are
low achievers," said Gwen.
     Monty sighed.  "K-G is really high on it."
     "We've only got one country and one span of life," said Gwen.  "Why
wish another burden on our poor fellow Americans.  I say push Golden Water
forward into the 21st century and let someone else decide whether it
should go."
     Monty sighed, poured himself a drink from the glass and took it down.
He was a white-haired man, thin and erect, of forty-five with a commanding
eye and a soft, burring voice.
     "Well, we have one more day to think about it."
     He put it aside.  There were a half-dozen other Chicago projects
demanding their attention, and it was going to be a full day, with more to
come tomorrow.
     "Gwen, isn't there something on the agenda that'll give us a little
fun and relaxation?"
     Gwen was a dark-haired woman of forty, with a supple figure,
beautiful hair, and a brash exterior that belied a soft, caring nature.
     She leafed through a thick stack of papers.
     "Here's a fourth level local corporation that claims to make sex
robots and something called Smart Suits.  It's optional.  It could be a
fun evening project to relax with."
     "Ugh, that again.  Every five years a robot company gets a wild
idea."
     "You forget we're national officers of an American Moralist Society."
     "Not at all, dear husband.  A negative Rand report and sex robots are
dead, along with Smart Suits, whatever they are."
     "I don't fancy a cute sex robot, or a cuter Chicago hooker in a Smart
Suit climbing in my lap to seduce me."
     "Don't be rediculous, Monty.  I wouldn't TOUCH a sex machine or a sex
person demonstrating such a vulgarity.  Sex robots are just not to be
taken seriously.  We'll kill the idea, of course.  But it could make for a
colorful evening, and we'd have something new and encouraging to report at
the next board meeting of the American Moralist Society."
     "All right, we'll do it.  But I may fall asleep." Monty always
thought that adults playing with robots were like children playing with
dolls and wondered if his wife had ever grown up in that one respect.
     Later that morning at a meeting in the A-C building, an elated
threesome, Nelson Harper, Cord Bannister and Nancy Lyons met, happy to
celebrate the defeat of VP Ellers and his group.  Since that wild night
two days ago, the Ellers' group and the opposition on the Board had
practically melted away.  It had been easy, of course, to pressure Morton
to withdraw his forces, when they had those damning pictures of the old
man having incest with his daughter. He practically begged Nelson to let
him change his mind.
     After they'd chewed that around, Nelson got serious again.
     "There are still the Rands.  They are in town and they have sent word
they'll look at our robots and Smart Suits tonight.  If they go negative,
we'll never make it out of the lab."
     "They aren't God!" cried Nancy.
     "They are in the product field," said Cord gloomily.
     "I've checked," said Nelson.  "They are big wheels in the American
Moralist Society. Ellers really hung a heavy one around our necks with
this test."
     "We have got one chance," said Nelson.  "We don't send the robots or
the Smart Suits at all."
     "What!"
     "WHAT!" cried Nancy.
     Nelson pointed at Cord.  "YOU go as Big Sam.  They've never seen you
anyway.  And YOU, Nancy, go wrapped in ordinary plastic, no suit.  You
both can go through all the functions . . . you know them all well
enough."
     Cord looked astonished.  "ME, imitate her cornball robot, Big Sam?"
     "How about ME!" she cried.  "Pretending to wear one of those
miserable hot suits!  Never!"
     "It's our only chance, kids.  You'll be so lifelike, it'll give 'em
pause for thought.  We don't need a positive report.  Just so they don't
go negative.  Reasonable doubt . . . they're fair. I think we can win
that."
     "I won't be pawed by some phony over idealized psychologists!" Nancy
insisted.
     "Oh, they won't touch you.  Not members of the AMS.  Listen, it's our
only chance.  You'll both be so lifelike they'll be intrigued."
     They fought like tigers, shocked at his trickery and double-shocked
to have to represent each other's devices.
     "If you represent your own inventions, you'll blow it.  You're too
involved, you'll explode when they criticize."
     They fought, but in the long run Nelson had his way, as he always
did.  That night, after a hard, crazy day of sweaty practice, Nelson
delivered his "robot" and his "SS girl" to the Century Forward penthouse
and the Rands . . . and made a fast escape.
     Cord, in a grey jumpsuit, and Nancy, in a blue jumpsuit, stood there
nervously as aides, assistants and secretaries surrounded and almost
concealed the white-haired man and the erect woman who seemed to be doing
twenty things at once.  For a whole half hour the Rands paid them not the
slightest bit of attention, after that first glance when Nelson had
brought them in.  Then the man and the woman stood up, as if on some cue.
     "ENOUGH!" called Monty Rand, and the hubbub subsided, as their staff
scurried out several doors and disappeared, leaving the Rands alone with
Cord and Nancy.
     Monty yawned and said, "It would be simplest if I took the male robot
and you took the suit girl," he told Gwen.
     "Quickest," she agreed.  She arched her back in a luxurious stretch.
"It's been a long day."
     "But if they're sex objects, I suppose we'll have to do it the other
way."
     "MONTY, I have no desire to poke at a male robot."
     "We're professionals," he insisted, "that doesn't stop just because
it's eight o'clock at night."
     She sighed, "I suppose you're right . . . follow me, robot."
     Cord rolled his eyes at Nancy and followed the woman off into the
interior of the penthouse.  He thought Gwen Rand had a nice ass, not a bad
figure.  If she got, uh, intimate, he might be able to perform . . .
     Monty watched them go, then shook his head. "The crazy things
business people invent to sell."
     "I know what you mean," said Nancy.  The clear plastic under her suit
made her itch.
     He led her to a bedroom of which the penthouse seemed to have
several.  It was a gorgeous room, done in bridal white and it had a
fantastic, large bed.
     "Take off your clothes, and lay on the bed," he ordered.
     Nancy had been near the point of revolt all day long.
     "Listen, Mr. Rand, I'm no hooker.  It's hard enough to show you this
dumb suit naked without getting pawed."
     He looked at her in surprise.
     "Didn't A-C pick you to demonstrate the suit?"
     "Yes, but they picked the wrong cookie.  The Smart Suit is a stupid
idea.  It keeps you hot or cold, as if you didn't have your own skin.  It
makes you walk, as if you didn't have your own legs.  It wards off blows
as if you were a weakling.  It broadcasts data to your brain, as if you
were too ignorant to read or listen to tapes."
     He stared at her.  "This is hard sell?"
     Her fury had mounted all day long at Nelson's crazy idea, and the
long wait while being ignored and with these two snobs showing off had
enraged her past reason.
     "Listen, he's got a sleeve that fits up my vagina.  It's supposed to
make the sex feel better.  Instead, it makes my cummy box feel like it's
stuffed with soft glass.  And wait till you see what it makes a woman look
like!"
     She practically tore off her jumpsuit to expose her naked body
gleaming inside the clear plastic sheeting that was supposed to con the
Rands into thinking she wore an SS.
     "Whore time, huh, Mr. Rand?  Hooker haven. I look like a State Street
peep show."
     She turned around and about, demonstrating the glitter of her
covering in that elegant room, feeling like a two-bit nobody.  It was all
Nelson's fault.
     Monty had sunk into a chair, watching her and listening with
fascination.  He stared when she exposed her nude body in the plastic.
     "This is a colossal FIRST!" he cried.  "People beg, con, cheat, and
wallow in compliments to us to sell their products."
     "Now, honestly, Mr. Rand . . . I'm going to call you Monty . . .
would any sensible human put on stuff like this?  To go to bed yet?"
     Monty stood up, still shocked.  "Well, all the things you mention
have some advantages, you know."  It was weird, finding himself defending,
instead of tearing apart, a product.
     Nancy was rolling too fast to stop.
     "It's supposed to broadcast microwave signals to turn the opposite
sex on.  Do you feel my cunt, yes CUNT, broadcasting to your poor, lonely
penis, Monty?  Are you rock-hard?  Crazy to be sucked?  Wild to FUCK?"
     She had reached the pinnacle of her contempt for Cord's Smart Suit.
She marched up to the hypnotized man and grabbed his cock in his pants.
     "I'm sure you're wild to . . ."
     She stopped.  The anger began to die from her face.  She stared up at
him in astonishment.  His cock was so hard it strained the cloth of his
pants.
     "Why, you ARE hard!"
     He blushed.  "Your body in that suit is the sexiest sight I've seen
in months.  You've got an incredible build.  Your anger is balm to my
ears.  All I get is shit, all day long, day after day; oozing, wheedling
voices."
     "I . . . I . . . I . . ."
     But her trip seemed to break through some thin membrane that
contained his own inner feelings.
     "You think my life's so great?  I sit through hours of dull,
egotistical nonsense and some secretary or woman exec comes in the room
and all I can think about is her ass or her tits, or think of shoving my
cock in her cute face.  They bring in coffee or wine, and the room lights
up. They go, and I die.  I want to be out there in their cubby hole
offices, fucking their sweet cunts off.  But NO!  The mighty Monty must
sit and listen to some asshole company president grind away."
     Shades of Wally Butterfield, thought frozen Nancy.
     "We're at the TOP, you understand?  No hookers, no secret loves . . .
EVER.  The slightest breath of off-color cannot be tolerated because our
decisions endlessly affect the lives of millions.  Even the President has
more freedom.  Because we're the golden door to money, money, money, and
besides money, sex is dust.  Just once, ONCE, I'd like to . . . to . . ."
Monty's face was red and his arms sawed the air . . ."  Just once, I would
like to jump on top of the table, grab one of those soft-eyed, round-assed
sweet young bitches, and FUCK!"
     "Honey, your wife isn't bad-looking . . ."
     "Wife?  She's in the same prison.  We go to bed, try to do it.  But
we can't help talking about this project, or that one.  You can't turn off
the power of MONEY when it coats your very brain.  It's the worst drug men
ever invented!"
     She said: "Mister, there's an old, ancient phrase, 'You sure need
your ashes hauled'!"  She undid his zipper.  She brought out his cock.
She knelt and sucked the end of it as it became even stiffer in her hands.
     "OH, WOW!"
     He pulled her up and started her for the bed.
     "I . . . I'll just get rid of this dumb . . ."
     "No, no, leave it on, it's incredible.  Like you're glittering
essence of all the cute secretaries, smiling coffee-bringers, sexy
receptionists I ever lusted for!"
     She scrambled on the bed, he stripped and with a cry of triumph sunk
his cock into her soft pink cunt, which fortunately had oiled just enough
to receive him.  It was free of the sleeve; she having refused to wear
that.
     "Oh," she said.  "OH!"  Her eyes went big with his furious lust.
     She had never felt such a hot, fast-moving prick in her cunt.  He was
like a madman with the release of his bottled-up sex need.
     "Huh, huh, huh," he went.  He shivered in his intensity to fuck her
to a froth.  His body sweated, his heart pounded.  "Oh, God, I'VE WANTED
THIS!" he cried, his voice bounding from the walls.  He was practically
sobbing. "Hot, young, tight, beautiful, FUCK DOLL.  No big decision, no
earth shaking, just FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!"
     He could not last.  He was like a maniac in his hunger for sex.  She
thrilled, furiously gasping and arching up, trying to protect her cunt
from his mad lunges.  It wasn't that he hurt her.  It felt TOO GOOD.  His
passion exceeded anything she'd ever met.
     "Hah, hoo.  Oh, Nancy, oh BABEEEEE!" he sang.
     He went still and she thought he'd had a heart attack.  Instead, he
lifted his head, cried out in exquisite pleasure, and burst virile spurts
into her cunt.
     WHAM, WHAM, WHAM.  "At LAAASST!" It was nearly a shriek of wild joy.
     She went dizzy and weak from his possession of her.  But she still
had not had enough stimulation to come with him.  She just felt aching,
tender, tremendously sorry for the man who made these dazzling, complex
decisions and hungered only for a hot cunt of a nobody secretary.  She'd
never in her life felt so much like playing the soft, taking, healing
woman and it was SEXXXXXY!
     "Oh, Monty, ream me off.  Enjoy," she whispered.
     He hunkered on her body and spent it out with sobbing gasps.  It
lasted a surprising time, considering his age.  When he tapered, he clung
to her like a small boy, wheezing and panting his pleasure.
     At last, he looked into her face wth the stricken look of a man who
was completely satisfied, glowing in love with her, at least for now.
     "Oh, child, that was FANTASTIC.  Now, I'm good for another year."
     "Come on, Monty," she laughed.  "You left me hung up there.  I'm hot.
You can suck me a little till you get your jism back, and then we'll do it
slow and easy.  I'll just take off this crap."
     "No, no, leave it on.  I love it, the way your body feels, looks,"
     "I'm not wearing the sleeve.  I couldn't stand it.  It was my naked .
. . just me that you've just exploded in."
     "That's all right.  Leave the suit on.  I love it. I'll write a
report you won't believe.  It'll get you big financing, sell a million.
That I can do."
     She lay there holding his head while he sucked on her cunt, an eager
small boy.  She loved him and his hot desire for her body.  She moaned and
twisted in heavenly joy.  A part of her mind played with the irony, she'd
try to turn him off on Cord's suit and he went crazy for it.
     He raised his head once.
     "You'll need my report.  Gwen will kill your robot.  She's death on
mechanical sex and just as bad on sex in general.  Woman can do that."
     She sank back, she decided not to knock Cord's suit any more.  The
robot sales would have to ride on the suit; that would have to be good
enough.
     He was a fantastic lover when he'd recovered.  He flexed into her
with syrupy, slow, LASCIVIOUS strokes that set her belly on fire.  She was
all the acres and acres of females he'd seen from the distance, or been
locked off from him close at hand, that he could never get.  His cock
rocked deep in her cunt as if it never wanted to leave, and the happy
glaze in his eyes told her the poor clunk had been able to turn off his
mind for once and be animal.

                               *    *    *

     She felt down his body.
     "Beautiful construction!" she murmured.
     She had to be kidding.  She must see that he was not a robot, even if
he did move in a slightly jerking fasion.
     She took hold of his cock and began to jass it. In her warm hands,
with that sexy white nudeness so close that he felt her body heat, with
her smallish nipples locked hard, Cord came to a full erection.
     "Uhhh," he grunted as his whole sexual network woke up.
     "On the bed, robot, on the bed," she gasped, shoving him gently.
     He fell back on the bed, astonished at her actions.  Nelson had said
that she would never go for the sex machine.  She was upon him at once,
spreading her legs over his face, forcing her swollen and wet cunt to his
mouth. Aroused, he dug his tongue into her box, and put it to work.
     "Oh, robot, heh, heh, heh, that's GREAT!  Oh, oh, oh!"
     The way Gwen Rand humped on his face, Cord thrilled, realizing this
was one of the hottest women he'd touched recently.
     "Yes, I was a whore for five years in my early twenties.  How do you
Iike that, robot?  Wouldn't that peel the skin off my dear husband if he
knew how I got started, how wild I was.  The hottest hooker in Gary,
Indiana, oh, oh, oh! Sweaty steel mill workers, grubby streets, sordid
back rooms in rundown apartments, and I loved every second of it.  I can
still feel, smell, taste their rugged cocks, hating their wives, hating
their jobs, but how they could FUCK!"
     She rocked in abandon on top of Cord, and he understood now, that she
did not spot the robot deception because she was too hung up on her own
desperate needs.
     She broke off the cunnilingus.
     "Enough of that.  I want your cock inside of me.  You can be the
answer to my prayers, robot."
     She slid down his body, spread her legs and speared down on his cock.
He violated her with a sexy rush of delightful feeling.  His cock sank
into a warm, wet and burning hot tunnel.  It felt great!
     "GOT TO HAVE IT!" she cried.  "I miss the sex of those old hooker
days.  God, I miss it.  But I saw . . . ah, ah ah.  I saw that society
hated hookers.  Society doesn't spend much time with sex.  It's all money
and POWER!"
     She sank on him, rocking, rocking and he thrilled to her hot, tight
cunt.  He was also stunned to learn that this remote and powerful woman, a
member of the Board of the American Morals Society, had once been a
prostitute.
     "I hid it all!" she went on.  "I buried my sex interest.  I turned to
other things, prospered, rose, the more I denied sex, the more I was
accepted, then an assistant to Monty, finally his wife, the top of the ant
hill.  I don't DARE ever let him know, anyone know, but you're only a
robot, deaf and dumb.  Ah, Ah, Ah, how well you fuck!"
     She plunged for a while in silence.  But her confessional mood drove
more words out:
     "I managed to keep three contacts from the Gary days.  Once a year I
could take a vacation, hide out, relive the crazy, hot days of my youth.
But they've all gotten older, one is dead, one sick, only one left.  What
am I to do.  NO ONE must ever know that I have this sickness, as they call
it.  I NEED a sex binge once a year."
     Cord was bucking fast into her cunt now, getting a little dizzy from
her hot cunt and this weird, confessional experience.
     "THE ROBOTS SOLVE IT ALL!" she cried. "You can bet I'll give it a
good report.  My closet lover!  I can have my orgies in secret when ever I
want.  God, I love FUCKING!  I LOVE IT! Monty must not know.  He is made
of steel and ice-water.  He'll never approve of sex robots, but I can
soften his blows.  AH, ah, ah."
     Cord put his hands on that white, smooth moving butt and began to
fuck her in earnest. Her words, her cock hunger drove him wild. He began
to grunt, gasp and plunge up into her cunt.  Her eyes were dazed, her rich
loins moved rapidly and happily on his prick as she slobbered a little in
her excitement and made pleased bitch sounds.
     "FUCK me deep.  That's right.  BEAUTIFUL ROBOT, HOT PRICK!"
     There was no more desire to talk.  The sensations were too great.
For Gwen, the sweetness of turning into a helpless bitch animal on top of
a thrusting prick was the ultimate release.  Some excuse would have to be
found for the AMS.  Maybe a huge donation of money, that worked best.  But
she was thrilled out of her skull with this solution to her problem.  She
rose right up to a heavenly orgasm.
     "OH, I'M COMMINGGG NOW, NOW.  I'M TAKEN!" she cried.
     Cord went dizzy again, felt her freeze and begin her throbs.  His own
delighted shaft and boiling jism reservoir were on fire.  That crazy, dumb
Nelson had lucked in.  The woman was so wild for prick she hadn't even
stopped to consider the robot might have recording devices.  So much for
one of the top brains of the country when sexual frustrations got too
high. No matter how powerful the figure, male or female, they all had
cocks or cunts, and had to live inside their love-hungry bodies!
     "Ah, ah, AH!" he went and gave her his best, thrilling thrust.  He
paralyzed and broke, seeding Gwen's belly with foaming hot cum, shooting
huge, satisfying darts of manhood into her starved being.
     Spunk, spunk, spunk!  It felt so good.  In his relief and the rich
glaze of pleasure, Cord panted and squeezed out every drop of seed into
the woman's white, smooth and parched body. She surged against him,
gasping, jerking, wallowing in her luscious surrender, making up for the
missed passion in her tight, closed world that imprisoned her.  When at
last, sweating and tightly locked, they tapered, she whispered.
     "There's time for another round.  I'm glad you're a robot with a full
magazine."
     Inwardly, Cord groaned.  He'd be found out for sure, now.  But she
went into another talking jag, repeating all she had said and by the time
she came back for more, he got stiff and was able to fuck her a second
time.  His huge delight at her smooth, supple body and getting away with
the robot charade, were enough to make him robot-hot that night.
     Dressed, stiff and formal, the Rands sat down to discuss the
situation after Cord and Nancy had left.
     "The country needs some relief, some fun. Arguing about sex robots
and Smart Suits might be a pleasant diversion," said Monty, with a
sidelong look at Gwen.
     "There's that."  She was slightly startled at his acceptance.  "Then
there are the lonely people.  They'd be less of a burden on friends and
relatives.  I might vote for the A-C project."
     Startled, but pleased, Monty said: "I think I might too.  It would
put an end to misguided attempts to convert ordinary robots and the harm
that does."
     "Yes on the robots and suits, then," said a pleased Gwen.
     "Yes on the robots and suits.  No on the golden Water."
     They shook hands . . .
     Nelson met again with Cord and Nancy two days later.  He bubbled with
good spirits.  He told them the board of A-C had agreed on production of
both the Smart Suits and the sex robots.  In about ten days when the
public announcements were made the little-known A-C would suddenly become
the most publicized of the nineties.  The stock would go crazy.
     "Wait a minute," said Cord.  "What about Washington?"
     "I'm thinking the same thing," said Nancy. "We whipped Ellers, we
convinced the Rands. But Ellers told you all about the opposition and
delays they would give us."
     Nelson's grin had never been wider.
     "He was wrong.  He forgot there were other, more powerful departments
in Washington that could kill those delays.  For instance, the defense
department has put in a tentative order, secret of course, for two hundred
thousand female robots, and a few male.  They have half a million
soldiers, airmen and navy people scattered across the world.  The
servicemen are always getting in trouble with local populations, getting
married or chasing local wives and getting the natives angry, as well as
relatives back home."
     "WE WIN!" cheered Nancy.
     "What about my Smart Suits?" asked Cord.
     "Welfare wants two hundred thousand, male and female.  They're sure
it will cut the rate of unwanted pregnancies among the poor right in half,
or lower.  The enhanced sex sensations should overcome the reluctance of
people to use them."
     Cord grinned.  Nelson told them that Defense and Welfare had scotched
all opposition from other departments and A-C would recover development
costs from these orders alone.
     Nancy wandered out of her lab and down to the snack center in the
building, tired but happy.  The past two weeks had been fantastic. Outside
the wall the battle raged, a happy fight between the pros and cons because
the public couldn't lose in this debate, with no tax money spent, no war
or disaster threatened.  No one had been able to stop the pros so far, and
she didn't think they would, no matter how much the conservative element
was shocked.
     For her, and she guessed Cord as well, it was a rugged time in the
lab.  Converting hand-made robots into production line models was a
demanding and absorbing work.  In addition, they now had public relations
functions, speeches to give, TV appearances to make. Nelson couldn't
handle them all himself so he sent Nancy and Cord out.  They were getting
their own first tastes of power and prestige. Tonight, Nancy wore her
purple velvet suit with the silver trim that she had bought during her
field tests in New York.  It was evening, later she had to appear on a
talk show.
     A shadow fell across the plate of salad she took from the vending
machine.  She looked up to see the weary, but smiling face of Cord
Bannister.  He wore a silver jumpsuit.  He also had an evening appearance
to make.
     She popped a Coffee All and toasted him.  "I suppose you've heard
that marketing wants a unisex robot designed."
     "To sell with a Smart Suit," laughed Cord. "Out of one fire and into
the next.  But it's a clever idea to combine our inventions.  Robot and
human, human and suit, robot, human and suit."
     "And we become a footnote in history," she sighed.
     "I'm more worried about what happens tomorrow.  Nelson's gone home
and he left his office open.  I've been thinking we should rifle that
mound of papers on his desk."  His eyes glittered.
     She looked up at him.  She grinned and jumped up.
     "The salad can wait.  Let's go look.  He's thrown us enough curves
without warning."
     Nelson's huge office was dark and deserted. Cord closed and locked
the door, put on the golden desk light and chuckled.
     "The old boy's spent a fortune redecorating in here, now that we've
made him important and powerful.  Look at that new sofa."
     Nancy joined him at the desk bending over to pick up the papers.
     "I don't care about his furniture, I only . . . unk!"
     Cord grabbed her from behind, hugging her, pressing his cock against
her ripe ass.
     "I think it's ahhhh, appropriate we should do it in his office the
first time.  Symbolic."
     "CORD!"
     "You're a luscious doll.  The night we went to the Rands I turned on.
Or maybe it was the night at the Ellers'."
     "You crud!  We're rivals.  Do you think I'm going to let you . . .
ahhhh, DON'T!"
     He had reached a hand over her hip to rub her cunt as he held her.
     "Got to.  Always wanted to plug a lady who fucks robots," he laughed.
     "I WON'T LET YOU TOUCH ME WEARING YOUR STUPID SMART SUIT."
     "Why?  I'm not prejudiced because you sleep with electronic
machines."
     "Oh, damn it, Cord." She was getting excited in spite of herself.
This big-shouldered guy was turning her on.
     "Besides, I'm not wearing a Smart Suit. After all the testing I've
done I don't need one too much."
     "And I don't have sex with robots," she gasped.  "Oh, oh, oh!"
     He moved her to the sofa.  She didn't want to have sex with him, did
she?  DID SHE?
     "Cord, now listen to mmmmmmmm."
     He hugged her in a fantastic wet kiss.  She thrilled from her toes to
her skull.  Her cunt had started to flow.  In the dim light of the office
with him so handsome in that silver suit and the door locked . . .
     "BABY!"
     He felt up her ass and his hands sneaked down and around to jazz her
cunt some more.
     "You'll make me wet my pants!" she gasped.
     "Take'em off."
     "Awwwww, now, Cord."
     "You're so damn romantic," he laughed.  He unzipped her suit.  She
had nothing on underneath, nothing at all.
     "Who's talking romance," she said.  "Oh, don't, my breasts."
     He had released her big breasts and his mouth went down on one hard
nipple.  The other one received the homage of his palm.  She thrilled.
     "You're a cunt hound," she gasped.  "All this sex, working with it,
testing."
     "Think of me as just another sex robot," he crooned.  He left off
kissing her breasts long enough to strip her suit down.  "That suit is the
sexiest garment I ever saw a woman wear, but I want what is underneath."
     "I don't think I'll let you fuck me," she protested as he took her
down on Nelson's new sofa.
     "I understand."  His prick dug for her swollen cunt.  He found it,
and he violated her.
     "Don't you at least believe in foreplay, oh, oh," she went.
     "Do you?  We've both been spoiled.  We deserve one another, true, oh,
oh, WHAT A TIGHT CUNT . . . true degenerates!"
     They rocked in silence.
     "I think I'll let you fuck me," she gasped.
     "Kind of you.  OHhhhhhhhh."
     He laid tight on top of her, going for those breasts again.  The
darkened office filled with obscene sucking sounds as she twisted and
groaned in her hot-breasts pleasure.
     "Just one . . . ONCE . . . AHHHHHH!" she cried as he fucked faster
and faster.
     "Once in your beauty and I d . . . d . . . die!" He glowed, ramming
into her even faster.  He went for her mouth now with hot French kisses.
They twisted and writhed, her cunt burning furiously and joyously.  If you
can't lick 'em, join 'em, she thought, in the pleasant chaos of being
taken.  Or was it, fuck 'em?
     "Ah, ah, ah," he went.
     "I think I'm falling in love with your detached cock, not you," she
teased him.
     "I feel the same about your hot box."
     They pounded up to glory, loins thrusting, kissing, caressing, crazed
by the hot action.  As she felt her orgasmic glaze coming, she thrilled to
think of taking her old enemy's jism.  But of course, he wasn't her enemy
any longer.  They were on top of the world together!  She went into her
luscious freeze, moaned and gave up her sexuality to him.
     "OHHHHHH!" Throb, throb, throb.  Her cunt squeezed on his mastering
cock.
     He had to give little pleasure laughs at the exquisite delight of it
all.  Then he tensed, froze and broke.
     "AHHHHHHH, NANCY!" Spurt, spurt, spurt.  Right into her stubborn, hot
little cunt. It felt so great, fabulous and for once in the last four
years he didn't have a single thought about his Smart Suit or problems as
he became an animal male emptying hot pleasure into her cunt.



                                 The End