Eye Candy

by Ryan Schneider

  The robot’s right hand came to rest between Candy’s legs; its left hand came to rest between Danny’s legs.

  “Boy, she doesn’t waste any time,” said Danny.

  “I’ve got all the time you need,” cooed the robot. “And I never get tired.” The robot’s pink tongue slid over its pouty bottom lip.

  “Her name is Tara,” said Oberon. “And the one beside her is Cerise. That’s French for Cherry. Although you can have us program any name you’d like.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tara,” said Danny.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” said the robot. It increased the rhythm of its hand motions.

  “Okay, deactivate,” said Danny.

  At once the robot’s hands returned to its sides and it stood upright, with the far-away look stealing over its face.

  Candy adjusted her pants, then her blouse. She combed the fingers of both hands through her hair and exhaled. “Anybody got a cigarette?”

  Danny adjusted his own pants as well, then turned to Oberon. “What’s the sticker price on these bad boys? And girls.”

  Oberon adjusted his yellow suit at a few key locations on his body. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “MSRP is a million-five.”

  Danny whistled. “That’s almost as much as my airplane.”

  “An airplane is good for a few hours at a time. A new Cherrolet, Incorporated Pleasurebot is good all the time,” said Oberon.

  “It’s a bit extravagant,” said Candy.

  “You folks probably don’t know much about this because it was before your time—heck it was before my time, too—but about seventy years ago, the cell phone was invented. Prior to that, portable telephones were cumbersome, unwieldly things, and nobody carried one on their person.

  “But then along came the cell phone. They had finally reached the point where they were small enough to carry in your pocket or in your purse, though they were still a bit heavy.

  “Very few people had one of these phones because the technology was brand new. Cutting-edge technology is always expensive. But some people saw the value immediately, especially folks who worked in sales, like my grandfather. Grandpa used to say that twenty percent of the people made eighty percent of the money and they were all in sales. Grandpa ran his own business. A business he’d built from the ground up. And being able to take phone calls while he was out on the road enabled him to make deals lickity-split.” Oberon snapped his fingers on both hands several times.

  Oberon continued, “Naturally, a person who possessed one of these new-fangled cell phones might find him- or herself in a public place such as a supermarket when his or her phone rang. Naturally, he or she would take the call. My grandpa always did, because he had deals to make, customers to take care of, and a family to feed. My dad is one of seven kids. Back then it wasn’t perceived as an attack on the environment if you had more than two children.

  “Grandpa used to say that when he was walking down the cereal aisle in the supermarket, picking out Super Corn Flakey Fruitalicious Cheerionuts or whatever the heck my dad and his six brothers and sisters liked for breakfast, and that phone would ring, he’d answer it. And by golly, people used to give him the meanest, dirtiest looks, as if he’d pulled down his pants and violated a box of Fruity Pebble-O’s. Sometimes, complete strangers would walk right up to him and tell him to hang up the phone and shop. Grandpa never did of course, because he had a family to feed. But that didn’t stop folks from being rude and sometimes even threatening.

  “Then, Grandpa said that, ten years later, everybody had a cell phone: people in the grocery store, people in the bank, people in the video store, where people used to go to actually rent little plastic discs with movies imprinted on them.

  “Grandpa saw folks talking on their cell phone while they were paying for their groceries, and they wouldn’t hang up the phone in order to talk to the checker scanning the groceries for them, and they’d leave the store, still talking on the phone. This was back in the day when a human was required to help you pay for your groceries.

  “Some folks would even answer the phone in the middle of a movie while surrounded by strangers in a movie theater. I’m sorry to say that even I have witnessed such a thing a time or two when I was a boy and Grandpa would take me to the movies on a Sunday morning.

  “Cell phones are just like robots. At first, nobody had one. Robots were only for the rich and famous. People looked upon robots with disdain, and upon robot owners with contempt. It was merely another form of jealousy, of course, the proverbial green-headed monster increasing the rift between the Haves and the Have-Nots.

  “But then robots, like automobiles and televisions and cell phones, became more affordable, until they were commonplace, although certainly there is no shortage of fringe whacko nut-job groups out there trying to abolish robots altogether.”

  Oberon continued, “But consider a senior citizen who falls down and can’t get up, but is able to call for help because he or she had a cell phone? Consider a parent who is able to communicate with a child via cell phone after the child is nearly abducted by a diseased sexual predator, never to be seen again. Likewise, consider the robot nurse or robot caregiver who is able to accompany a senior citizen to the grocery store to help them reach those cherished items on the top shelf. Or help them put away the groceries when they get home. Or assist with activities of daily living such as getting in and out of bed or something as basic as using the restroom. A person who has been robbed of his or her dignity because he or she is unable to sit down on a toilet or needs help wiping their backside can rest assured that a capable, helpful, friendly robot is there to assist them. And a robot, unlike a person, is not making judgments during the process. There is no shame in allowing a robot to clean you. It is a machine, designed only to be of service.

  “These new Pleasurebots are also designed to be of service. Now anyone can have a special companion of their very own. It’s human nature to desire companionship, to desire touch, to seek comfort in the arms of another. But so many people simply don’t have a person to whom they can turn for this affection.

  “Enter the Pleasurebot, such as young Tara here.” Oberon moved beside the tall, graceful robot. He gently smoothed a strand of red hair away from her face. He adjusted one of her bra straps, which had become twisted as it passed over the curve of her shoulder. “She can provide years of faithful service, in whatever capacity that service need be. They’re a little bit expensive now, but they’re state of the art. There is nothing finer available anywhere. Even the top-of-the-line sexbots coming out of Japan can’t compete with her. Just look at her.” Oberon caressed the robot’s rouged cheek. He turned to Candy and Danny. “Would you folks like to fill out a credit application? We have sixty-days-same-as-cash, no-interest financing available, with nothing down, on your approved credit.”

  Danny turned to Candy. “What do you think, baby?”

  Candy looked the robot up and down a few times. “I think I need to think about it.”

  “I understand. Here’s my card.” Oberon handed Danny a thin silver rectangle. “It’s also a refrigerator magnet, a clock, a pedometer, a radio, and a sixty-four-exabyte storage device, as well as a calendar, so please don’t dispose of it.”

  “Thank you. I won’t,” said Danny.

  With that, Oberon escorted Danny and Candy to and through the exit of the showroom.

  When Danny and Candy had proceeded a few meters, Oberon called, “Oh, Mister Bond! Say Hello to Goldfinger for me. And also to the man with the golden gun. Yessir, grandpa loved his movies. . . .”

  Oberon smiled and retreated into the showroom.

  Chapter 19

  The Fountain of Humanity

  Danny and Candy climbed the stairs to her home.

  Once they were inside, Candy closed the door and grabbed Danny. She curled her arms around his neck, pressed her lips to his, and slid her tongue into his mouth.

  After a moment of surprise, Danny recovered and reciprocated
. He wrapped his arms around Candy’s body, and opened his mouth to her.

  Candy backed him up, crossing the floor to the sofa, where she pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

  “I have to admit,” said Candy, planting kisses on Danny’s lips, “those pleasurebots . . . turned me on. Another couple of minutes . . . and I would have had an orgasm.”

  “Maybe we ought to go back and . . . pick one up.”

  Candy sat up, her legs straddling Danny’s hips. “You have a million-five lying around?”

  “Not liquid. I usually tie my money up as quickly as possible, so I don’t spend it.”

  “You want to tie me up?” Candy grabbed Danny’s wrists and pinned his arms to the sofa. “Or I can tie you up.”

  Danny tried to lift his arms and couldn’t, not without a sincere effort. “You are surprisingly strong.”

  “I used to be a gymnast. In high school I held the record for the most pull-ups, boys included.”

  “How many did you do?”

  “Forty-seven.”

  “I bet the boys loved that.”

  “Some did. Some didn’t. But too bad for them. Either put up or shut up. Or in this case, pull up.”

  Danny gathered his strength and in one fluid movement, lifted his arms from the sofa and sat up.

  Candy’s eyes widened and she smiled as Danny overpowered her.

  “I’ve always thought strong women were sexy,” he said. “When I was about twelve, I had a fantasy of being kidnapped by a tribe of Amazon women and being taken to their luxurious jungle palace to be used as a sex slave for my sperm.”

  Candy laughed. “I’m not sure if I qualify as an Amazon warrior, but I think I can oblige the rest.”

  Danny’s eyes widened as Candy deftly unfastened his belt and the button of his pants, then lowered his zipper. She grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled, just as she had done to the male pleasurebot. She reached down with her other hand and took hold of him.

  “It’s big,” said Candy.

  “If you say so.”

  Candy’s grip was warm and soft and firm.

  Danny’s eyes rolled back in his head and his head listed to one side, with his mouth half open in a slack grin. She began stroking the length of him. Candy punctuated every few strokes with a gentle squeeze. With every squeeze, Danny moaned and exhaled, partly against his own will and partly because he was floating somewhere outside of his own bodily awareness. Yet at the same time he was intently focused on the sensations of his body, of Candy’s hand caressing him, the smell of her hair and her perfume intoxicating him as his respiration increased.

  He felt the release approaching, building and rising inside him, and he wondered if he should delay it, wondered if he should prolong it, or perhaps turn the tables on Candy, or perhaps carry her into the bedroom.

  “Don’t stop.” Candy’s voice was breathy and soft.

  Candy’s urging that he let it happen combined with the desire in her voice.

  With half a dozen strokes more, Danny erupted. Both hands curled into fists, his toes curled inside his shoes, his teeth clenched down hard, and the muscles of his chest and abdomen and legs contracted with such force that he was distantly aware of Candy being lifted up several inches as his body stiffened.

  Somewhere far away yet close and intimate, he heard Candy moaning and breathing heavily as she watched his release, controlling him with her hands, seeing it through to the very end. An end which didn’t seem to be approaching. Danny cried out. The pleasure was so intense and prolonged that half of him remained lost in it while the other half was becoming steadily more aware of its unprecedented perfection.

  At last the ecstasy began to wane. Candy continued to stroke him, and Danny went with it, going wherever it may lead. His body shuddered with aftershocks, small seizures of delight rolling through him, steady in their subsiding, until he knew he was, in every sense of the word, spent.

  ~

  Danny lifted his head, opened his eyes, and looked at Candy.

  Candy leaned slowly forward and, with her eyes open all the while, kissed his lips. Softly. She then pulled back. “Wow.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m the one who should be saying ‘Wow’. Where did you learn to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my entire life. Not even when I was fifteen and could masturbate four times in one hour just from watching female aerobacise on television.”

  “I just did what I thought you would like.” Candy smiled. She looked down at her hands. “It’s a lot.” She looked up and their eyes met, and her smile widened. “It’s a lot.”

  Danny looked down. “Wow, that is a lot.”

  “How many sperm is it per ejaculation?”

  “I’ve read different numbers, but somewhere around two hundred million.”

  “Wow. That’s half the population of the United States.”

  “That’s true.”

  “You know,” said Candy, “Cleopatra used to rub semen on her skin, especially on her face.”

  “Was she into that sort of thing?”

  “She believed it was the ultimate anti-aging tonic, that it was the best way to fight wrinkles.”

  Danny fixed Candy with a steady look. “Candy, are you going to rub my semen on your face?”

  Candy’s head tilted to one side. She smiled. “No, I’m going to rub it on your face.”

  They moved at the same time. Candy’s hands came up and for a moment Danny registered the wet shine on them. He caught Candy’s wrists in his hands and fought to hold them steady and away from his face. Slowly Candy’s semen-covered hands were approaching his face.

  “My God you are strong,” Danny grunted. He tried to exert more force without hurting Candy’s wrists.

  “I told you,” Candy grunted, “years of gymnastics. Lots of weight-lifting.”

  Candy’s right hand was within inches of Danny’s left cheek.

  “No!”

  “What’re you so afraid of? It’s your own stuff.”

  “I can smell it.”

  “Guys don’t like it yet women are expected to swallow it,” Candy grunted. “Talk about a double . . . standard.”

  “Truce!” called Danny. “Truce?”

  “Okay, truce. Sperm truce.”

  Danny slowly relaxed. He kept his eyes on Candy, and on her hands. Candy gradually relaxed and withdrew her hands from Danny’s face.

  The moment Danny released his grip on Candy’s wrists, she shouted, “Just kidding!” and splatted both wet hands firmly on his face, one hand on each cheek.

  Danny didn’t move. He merely stared at Candy. “It’s cold.”

  “Here, there’s some more on the back of my fingers.” She turned her hand over and wiped her fingers against his face. “We should probably get some on your forehead too.” She spread the clear fluid across his brow. “Can’t neglect the crow’s feet. And the laugh lines.” She spread it around his eyes, and on either side of his nose and mouth. “Just think of all the money you’ll save on plastic surgery.”

  “That was a mean trick. You owe me a kiss. At the very least.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Candy leaned forward and kissed Danny’s lips. He seized both sides of her head and began rubbing his face against Candy’s face.

  “No!” Candy tried to squirm away but Danny held her fast. “Ooh, it is cold!”

  Once Danny had made what he hoped was a thorough application, he released Candy. She pulled her head back and looked at him. His eyelashes were wet. “You have semen in your eyelashes,” she said.

  “So do you.”

  Candy applied light, upward strokes to her eyelashes. “This stuff is better than mascara. And I’m not talking about the cheap three-dollar crap you get at China Mart. I’m talking about the expensive department store stuff.” Candy finished stroking and shaping her lashes. “There. How do I look?”


  Danny considered her. Candy’s upper lashes were nearly vertical. “You look . . . alert.”

  “Here, let me do yours.”

  Before Danny could protest, Candy reached out and with delicate fingers stroked his lashes. “Look up.”

  Danny did as instructed.

  A few seconds later, “There.” Candy leaned back and surveyed each of his eyes.

  “How do I look?”

  “Like you said: alert.”

  “But it’s sexy, though, right?”

  “Absolutely. You’re going to have to beat the girls off with a stick after this.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Wait, your left eye needs a touch-up.” Candy began gently adjusting his lashes. “You know, when I put up my online dating profile, I never would have guessed I’d meet a cute guy who dressed like me, and with whom I would then almost die in a shuttle crash, only to then go flying around the California coast at fifty thousand feet under a full moon, thereby helping me forget all about the robot who killed himself in my office that day, and with whom I would then have a slumber party at my house followed by a nice, heartwarming chat over a plate of delicious vegetarian fish served by a flaming robot waiter, only to then have my genitals caressed by a one-point-five-million-dollar pleasurebot while a man in a yellow suit watched. And, now, here I sit, smearing semen into the cute guy’s eyelashes. I feel like I don’t have a care in the world and I can honestly say that there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” Candy made one final adjustment to Danny’s lashes. “There.”

  “Better?”

  “Perfect.”

  “It’s been an interesting three days,” said Danny.

  “Very interesting.”

  “When I saw you walk into that restaurant, two things occurred to me,” said Danny. “The second thing was that we were wearing the exact same clothes.”

  “What was the first thing?”

  “That you were the most beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, sexy woman I had ever seen anywhere ever, in person or on tv or in movies. I mean anywhere. Ever. Ever.”