Uneasy about the extreme nature of the sensations, he flipped to another channel. He had felt similar sensations when he studied Marina, but she had not allowed him to touch her as the men had been touching the woman he watched. He wondered if she allowed him to touch her if he would feel these extreme sensations.
When his heart and breathing slowed to normal, he realized that he was disappointed that he didn’t feel the sensations anymore. He hadn’t thought that he liked it.
He studied the people on the woman’s channel again. They were not doing the same thing that the others had been doing. They had clothes on, but they were touching hands and mouths. After he watched them for a little while, they began to take their clothes off and perform the sexual act with each other.
He studied them very hard. He began to believe that there was a very subtle difference between them. They appeared to be doing much the same things. Even the expressions they made were very similar. The words they used when they spoke were different, he finally decided, but there was more than that. After a while, he realized that the couple on the women’s channel seemed to be concentrating on giving pleasure to each other. The people on the other channel were concentrating on their own pleasure.
They appeared to be enjoying themselves—all of them.
He wondered why Marina would not allow him to do this. He was sure he could do everything that they were doing on the videos. Why did it make a difference to her that he had been created instead of born?
Perhaps, if he surprised her she would allow it? She had seemed to enjoy what he’d done before and he hadn’t even known how to pleasure her.
After a moment, he turned the videocom off and went into the bedroom. She was sleeping. He undressed and moved to the side of the bed, staring down at her. She was lying on her side, facing the edge of the bed, her mouth open. Recalling what the woman had been doing on the video, he looked down at his penis. It was limp and too short to put it inside her mouth. “Up,” he commanded. Nothing happened. He frowned. Maybe that wasn’t the correct order? “Erect!” he said more forcefully. It ignored him. Taking his hand, he grasped the end and held it up, thinking it might inflate. Instead, when he let go, it fell again. Catching it in his hand, he tried fluffing it. Sensation began to filter through his nerve endings and the penis filled slightly. He stared at it. Finally, he grasped it and began pumping it up. Within moments, it was hard and standing.
Smiling at his success, he inched closer to the bed and leaned toward her, nudging her lips with it. Her nose wrinkled. She lifted a hand and rubbed her face. He waited until she’d stopped and tried once more. Again, her nose twitched and she swatted the air. Pain lanced through him when her hand came into contact with his swollen member.
* * * *
Something had woken her, but Marina wasn’t certain what it was. She’d almost decided it was just her imagination and drifted off again when something tickled her nose. She swatted at it, but it only disappeared for a moment and was back to tickling her again.
She couldn’t get her eyes open. It was as if they’d been glued shut. Lifting a hand to her face, she pried one lid up. Something pale and blurry was right beside her nose. She let go of her eyelid and grasped it, intending to push it away. She discovered, however, that it was warm, felt like flesh, moved in her hands….
It was easier to open her eye that time. She pulled back and looked at her hand. One tiny, dark eye was staring back at her. She studied it for several moments before her brain finally kicked into gear then followed the penis to the possessor of the penis.
Nico was standing over her, a look of intense concentration on his face. “Wha’re you doin’?” she managed.
“The woman on the videocom put one of these in her mouth. She seemed to like it.”
Sighing irritably, Marina released his cock and flipped over from her side and onto her back. “I don’t care what the woman on the porno channel did, I’m not going to,” she muttered. “Go to sleep.”
“I wish to give you pleasure,” Nico said, climbing into bed beside her.
“Then let me sleep. That’s all the pleasure I want at the moment.”
She was just drifting away again when he distracted her.
“Does my body not please you?”
“You’ve got a beautiful body.”
“Does my face not please you?”
“You’ve got a beautiful face, too.”
“Then why am I not your type?”
Marina wrinkled her brow, but it was just too much effort to think. “You are my type. At least you would be if you were ….”
Nico frowned when she didn’t finish. He looked at her hard, to see if she had just decided not to finish, but he saw that she was asleep again. Sighing, he lay down and tried to figure out what it was that he was not doing correctly. He finally decided that he would just have to keep studying the videos. The woman’s channel was having a romance marathon to celebrate the holiday, Valentine’s Day. Surely one of the videos would explain everything to him.
* * * *
Marina was tired when she parked her hovercraft in her drive the following evening. She shouldn’t have been. She’d taken a sleeping pill the night before and slept like a log—except for a couple of really strange dreams. She supposed, though, that it was the damned pills. She didn’t know why she ever resorted to them. Any time she decided she had to sleep and she had to have a pill to help her, she always felt like hell the next day.
Despite that, she felt a surge of gladness to be home. Part of it was because she could strip and collapse now that she’d finished work for the day, but part of it was because she was looking forward to seeing Nico. She hoped he’d gotten over being mad with her. He might only be a cyborg, but it was still nice to have someone to talk to when she got home.
It would be even nicer if he’d decided to cook for her again.
She called to him as soon as she opened the door. “Nico…..”
She was seized in an iron grip and shoved none too gently against the wall. “What the…,” she broke off and gasped as her hands were captured and manacled to the wall on either side of her head.
Nico had his face pressed almost nose to nose with her. “You are mine, wench!”
Marina gaped at him blankly.
Gripping the front of her suit, he ripped it from the neckline to her waist. “Protest all you like, but I’ve seen your face when I make love to you, heard your whimpers of delight. Your body knows that I command it.”
Marina blinked rapidly. “What the hell have you been watch ….” She didn’t get the last word out. Leaning down, he captured her mouth beneath his in a kiss that nearly singed her eye brows. Shock held her in thrall as she felt his tongue ravish her mouth savagely, thoroughly. Her mind shut down as his tongue skated across hers and his taste filled her senses. Her body didn’t even have time to quicken. High arousal seized her as if she’d bathed in battery acid, burning through her. Her knees, her entire body, turned to putty. Wetness flooded her vagina, dampened her panties.
When he finally released her, she slid down the wall, landing in a puddle at his feet. “Wha … Wha …. What—happened?”
Reaching down, he lifted her to her feet. “I did not do this correctly?”
Marina blinked at him. “Wha’?”
He lifted her limp arms and draped them around his neck.
She locked her fingers together and hung limply against his chest.
He smiled, apparently satisfied. Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek tenderly. “You are my sun, my moon. Without you … only darkness. I love you, little one.”
Slowly, her senses returned to normal—or almost normal. She couldn’t seem to get beyond the fact that Nico had almost short circuited her brain with that kiss. Who’d have thought he could kiss like that? With an effort, Marina locked her knees, released her grip on his neck, and pulled away from him. Her legs were still quivering with weakness—her vagina was still palpating with need, but she thought she cou
ld stand upright—as long as she was leaning against the wall. “My God! What have you been watching?”
He frowned, his face eloquent of deep disappointment. “I did not make you burn with need for my touch?”
Marina blinked several times, tempted to lie to him. Finally, she reached for his hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“To the bedroom. I can see right now that you’re determined about this and I don’t see any sense in you learning how to do it wrong.”
He followed her docilely enough, but he looked confused. When they’d reached the bedroom, she closed the door and turned to him. As she began removing his clothing, she placed a kiss on each small patch of skin that she uncovered.
His breath quickened, but he remained perfectly still.
“Do you feel anything?” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“What does it feel like?”
He puzzled over it. “Good.”
Smiling, she continued, closing her mind to the fact that he was a cyborg. He felt and tasted and smelled like a real man. He responded like a real man. That was all that mattered at the moment. “You are so sweet. I think I could love you.”
“If I was a real man?”
Frowning, she leaned away and looked up at him. His expression was a mixture of anger and hurt. Reaching up, she smoothed the frown from his brow and then ran her fingers down his nose and touched his lips. “You feel like a real man to me.”
He opened his mouth and sucked the tip of her finger.
A thrill of excitement went through her. “Kiss me again. I loved the way you kissed me before.”
Releasing her finger, he leaned toward her, pulling her tightly against him as he covered her mouth with his own.
The sensations of before flooded back instantly, making her feel dizzy and weak.
As he kissed her, he bent and placed his arm behind her knees. Scooping her up, he carried her to the bed and carefully climbed in with her, laying her down on the mattress and moving over her, all without breaking the kiss.
His kiss was more gentle than before, but no less devastating to her senses. He tasted of flesh and bone, all man, and distinctly different from any other who’d ever kissed her—his own individuality. He tasted wonderful. He felt even more than that. Desire flooded her, making her senses riot.
She kissed him back when he withdrew his tongue at last, following him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth to explore him.
He groaned. A tremor went through him.
She sucked his tongue as he’d sucked her finger.
He skated his hands over her body restlessly, pulling at the suit she still wore.
Finally, she broke the kiss and pulled away to help him.
He held himself a little away from her, studying her body, then began to stroke her, watching her face for every small change in her expression. “I want to give you pleasure,” he murmured. “Tell me how.”
Marina gasped. “You’re doing just fine.”
He leaned toward her and kissed her again on the mouth, deeply, slowly stroking his tongue along hers. When he broke the kiss, he kissed her throat and then made his way down her body, stopping to kiss and stroke her breasts then her belly. Finally, he pushed her thighs apart and stroked a finger along her wet cleft.
Marina let out a little cry as he stroked her clit, gripping him tightly, squeezing her eyes tightly as pleasure so acute it was almost painful flooded through her. “There! Yes! Just like that.”
He continued stroking her, watching her writhe and groan as the pleasure built inside of her.
Moaning, Marina searched his body with her hands, stroking him as he caressed her and finally slipping her hand down to cup his genitals. His cock was huge in her hands, distended, swollen, throbbing with life. Vaguely surprised, she looked down at it. “It’s huge!”
His head was thrown back in acute pleasure as she massaged him. He opened his eyes at that, however, and looked at her with a hint of uncertainty. “You do not like this?”
“Oh, baby! I like.” She thought about it several moments. “It’s just …. I thought you’d have to lie to me, like before.”
He groaned. Pushing her hand away, he nudged her thighs apart and moved between them. “I need to be inside you,” he said tightly. “I need to feel your flesh around me.”
She parted her thighs wide for him, guided the head of his cock into her opening, and cupped his buttocks. Gritting his teeth, he pushed, tentatively at first and then with more and more desperation, shoving her halfway up the bed before he’d managed to fit his cock fully inside of her. He stopped, gasping for air, his teeth gritted. “I feel --as if --I will explode,” he said a little desperately.
Marina wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the walls of her vagina convulse around him at his words. “Me, too,” she murmured, pushing against him.
He groaned, lifted his hips, and thrust again. His face contorted, almost as if he was in agony, but he lifted his hips and thrust again, and again, moving faster.
Marina felt a thrill go through her, felt her heart hammering in time to his thrusts, felt her insides begin to quake and shudder. For a forever moment, she seemed to hover—almost but not quite reaching the point of no return. Abruptly, her body surged beyond, exploded with a pleasurable release of tension that made her cry out.
Her body, convulsing with pleasure, milked him, clutching and releasing around him as he thrust faster and faster. Suddenly, he released a sound that was half growl, half cry and began shuddering against her.
Weak in the aftermath of her own release, Marina clutched him tightly, feeling warmth flood through her as he went still and relaxed weakly on top of her.
She stroked his back while his breathing slowly returned to normal, feeling a sense of completion that she didn’t recall ever feeling before. It occurred to her after a moment that, no matter how crazy it seemed, he had wormed his way into her heart with his innocence, his sweetness, his curiosity—his need for her. She stroked his hair. “I do love you, Nico.”
He lifted his head, studied her for a long moment, and finally stroked her cheek lovingly. “Ditto.”
Marina blinked. “What?”
“Ditto?”
She gave him a look. “That’s completely unacceptable.”
“I adore you?”
“Better,” Marina said, smiling.
He frowned, moving off of her to lie beside her. Propping his head in one hand, he stroked her body. “Everything that I have learned to feel is only for you,” he said, almost as if he was surprised. “I feel–empty for you. Hungry, alone, needful.”
Marina caressed his cheek. “I feel the same for you. I’m glad your creator left you on my doorstep.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “I am a real man, Marina. I feel love. I feel sorrow when you are unhappy with me. I feel—everything.”
Marina leaned close and kissed him. “Then you are a real man at last, Nico.”
The End
Real Man, A; Mirror, Mirror Page 3
