Headspace

by Calinda B

“I’ll never tell.” A feral smile grows along his face. “Do you like?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “So, what’s next?” He extends his tongue and runs it in a slow sweep along his lips.

  “I think you want to be kissed.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes. You do.”

  “Is that want you want?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I seize his face in my hands and press my lips to his, hungrily, insistently, devouring him. His tongue plunges into me and I suck on the slippery flesh inside my mouth. I break apart, panting. He thrusts his erection against my hips…my avatar’s hips…I want him inside of me…I mean my avatar….oh, hell, I’m getting so confused. “Oh, God, Himeros. What are you doing to me?”

  “Just acting out a fantasy, that’s all.”

  “It’s a really good fantasy.”

  “Is it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He smiles, pleased and self-satisfied. “Good. What’s next?” He picks up a brunette strand between his fingertips and twirls it. He presses the warm flesh of his abdomen and chest against my avatar or me, I can’t tell. I seem to have lost my way between what’s fantasy and what’s reality in here tonight. His body embraces me and my knees get all weak.

  Stop this. Stay in control. I urge my body to assume control but it seems to have a mind of its own tonight. I melt into my sheepskin rug. The room starts to flicker.

  “Stay with me. Stay with me,” Himeros urges. “Don’t go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” I’m panting. I’m actually panting.

  His avatar melts alongside me and he rams his rigid erection into my back……I mean my avatar’s back. This is getting way too confusing.

  “Enter me. Please.” I beg. I’m not used to begging. “Take me from behind.” I’m swollen with want and need.

  “Not yet.” He presses tender kisses on the top of my scalp, on my neck, on my shoulder.

  I can feel the head of his erection pressed against my ass and I wriggle, trying to get it inside me. This is so not a game tonight. I feel like the edges between reality and fantasy are blurred tonight.

  “What’s your avatar name?” he breathes into my ear.

  “It’s Desire. Nothing but Desire, baby. Desire for you and you alone.” I can’t tell if I’m kidding. My Headspace is all wrong tonight. Or maybe it’s all right. I smile.

  “Good. I like that name for you.”

  I scoot my ass back, trying to cajole him to enter me, not my avatar, but he resists. “Don’t you want me?’ I whisper.

  “You have no idea.”

  His voice is like creamy silk, sliding into my ear. I close my eyes and savor the sensation. “I’m going to have to give you your money back.”

  “Why would you do that?” His hands reach around and cup my breasts. “I’ve got plenty.”

  “Yeah, but this feels so one sided. It feels like it’s all for my pleasure.”

  “Your pleasure is my pleasure, I can assure you. This is what I dreamed of doing.”

  You dreamed of doing this? His hands roam over my sensitive flesh. The virtual flesh of my avatar, I correct. This is all make-believe.

  “Shit.”

  The word emerges from him, sharp and alarming. “What?” I say, tensing. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing, baby. It’s not you. It’s just one of my…one of my…one of my wives wants me. I gotta go. I’m in…”

  That same sense of something wrong about this scene fills me. Something about what he’s telling me doesn’t make sense.

  “Will you come back?” I can’t believe how desperate I sound.

  “Maybe. Not sure. We’ll see. Gotta go, babe.”

  The space fills with darkness and need, my need. I lie in the darkness, my pussy throbbing, thinking about what just happened. Who is this guy, Himeros, in real life? What’s his story? Honestly, I don’t know and I don’t care. The only thing I care about is that he enters my Headspace on a regular basis. I want this avatar as my own.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jonas doesn’t call the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that. Or even the next. Am I surprised? No. It would have been more of a surprise if he did call. And I refuse to call him. Still, I hold out hope that he might have been as turned on by that kiss as I was.

  Tonight I service the Twins, Devon, Captain Jack—ew, ew and double ew—and I’m wiped. After that I decide to take the rest of the night off.

  I’m just about to step out of the house when the pulse-com goes off, indicating a client call. I’m going to have to have a talk with that damn HoloMess 500. They keep making mistakes in the schedule. I sigh, drop my purse, and wander to the doorway to don my high-tech suit. When I enter, the Himeros avatar is already naked inside my Headspace.

  “Damn. How’d you get in here?”

  “Isn’t this where you do your thing?”

  “Yeah, but you’re not allowed to enter until I invite you in.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me in here?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, you have to play by the rules.” I’m confused. Aroused. This guy does not play by the rules and I don’t know whether to be excited or alarmed.

  “Show me Desire. Where is she?”

  “Patience, Himeros. I need time to prepare.”

  “Hurry. I’m hungry for you.”

  “I can see that.” I glance over at his stiff rod. This guy disturbs me. This guy excites me. This guy needs to play by my rules. He’s in my house. “You’ll have to wait in the antechamber until I’m prepared. And you weren’t on tonight’s schedule. I may decide to reschedule.”

  “As you wish.” His avatar disappears.

  As I wish? I stand in the middle of the room, pondering. Who the hell is this guy? He gets in without invitation, he bosses, he controls, he does what I ask, just like that? I decide to make him wait. Leisurely, I call forth the avatar of Desire. I watch her emerge into the room, one shimmer of flesh and form at a time. Once she’s fully fleshed out, I watch her run her hands across her face, her lips, her neck. She’s fully aroused…I’m fully aroused. “You can enter now, big dog.”

  “I told you not to call me that,” Himeros snarls, his avatar appearing with a sudden snap.

  “And I told you—we play by my rules or we don’t play at all. You can take your money and your avatar elsewhere. Go play with one of your dollies.”

  “My dollies?” he sputters, grinning.

  “Your wives.”

  “I’d much rather play with you.” His eyelids lower and he licks his lips.

  The way he says this, the way he looks at me…my avatar, I mean…makes me melt. It’s like he’s snaked into my heart somehow. Slithered into my soul. Completely intoxicated me, this strange, strange guy with loads of secrets. I’ve given up trying to tell if this is all fantasy or if it’s really happening. Maybe it’s the lingering effects of the Devil’s Juice. I don’t care. The mind is a powerful entity. And imagination is the core of all manifestation. And, frankly, I want this guy with all my heart and soul. “Come inside me,” I moan. I’m on all fours now with my ass arched high in the sky, inviting entrance.

  “Slow down, sweetheart, this is going to take some time.”

  I don’t want it slow. I want it hard, fast, and deep. And right now. I let out a long groan. “Himeros. I’m about to lose my mind here.”

  “I can see that. Good. You’re ready, then.” He stalks towards Desire and kneels behind her. He parts her behind and presses his face between her legs, letting his long tongue lick the length of her parted flesh.

  “Ohhhhhh, God, Himeros,” I moan. I start to shake. I start to tremble. I start to feel pleasure like I’ve never experienced. Am I about to orgasm? My mind automatically seeks a connection with the man behind the avatar. All I get is static. He’s blocking me. This causes me to kind of short out. It messes with my head. I will myself back into the game.

  Himeros keeps stimulating Desire. He’s relentless. He’s gentle. He’s hot. My body
is shuddering violently with arousal, with desire to connect. Thoughts of Liam start slamming through me like a tsunami. Is that who this guy is?

  I cry out. “Oh, I’m sorry. A thousand times sorry. I never should have cast you out of my life.” Curled in a ball, I’m sobbing, while Himeros is snaking his tongue up and down the inside of Desire’s folds. The room goes dark. Completely dark. “Himeros!” I call out.

  “I can hear you. You don’t need to shout.”

  “How can you hear me? My Headspace is broken.”

  “I just can. I’m different than your other clients.”

  “Who are you?” I manage through gusts of sorrow. My heart feels as if it’s going to shatter.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “I’ll have to give you your money back.”

  “Keep it. I have plenty.”

  “I’ll make it up to you next time around.” I wipe the tears and slimy snot from my face. I almost came. I almost orgasmed. Almost. And it’s not even Christmas yet. Maybe there’s hope for me.

  “There won’t be a next time—not like this. I can’t keep doing this.”

  “Why?” I howl. “I think you’re the one.”

  “That’s exactly why I can’t come back like this.”

  “What are you saying? Himeros? Himeros?” Nothing but silence enfolds me. Through tremors of physical sensation, my heart continues to break to bits. I lie in the darkness and cry. I honestly have no idea how long I remain on the floor, cuddled on my sheepskin rug. At some point I manage to make it into my bedroom where I fall asleep for a long, long time.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Something happened to me on that night—when was it? Three weeks ago? Four? I can’t do this fucking job anymore. I send out a global message to all my clients via HoloMess 500, saying that I’m taking a medical leave. All I can manage is hiding in my home, feeding my cat, pulse-comming for take-out. I’m weak. Exhausted. I keep wondering if the avatar Himeros is actually Liam. If so, I don’t know what he’s trying to prove but if he wanted to hurt me back, mission accomplished. I’ve been shattered. Broken apart. Blown to bits.

  I’ve been pulse-commed plenty. Kaama has tried to reach me approximately seven times. Magicka has tried sixteen times. HoloMess 500 has contacted me with messages—pleas, more like it—to please, please, please get well soon. My clients miss me. The only client who hasn’t called is Himeros. It doesn’t matter. I’m fairly numb at this point. I wonder if this is what a zombie feels like—oh, wait, they can’t really feel, can they? Frankly, neither can I.

  I get a pulse-com that indicates Grammy is calling. I sigh and run my hands across my lips. “Hey, Grammy,” I say wearily.

  “Vienna? What’s going on? You call me every week.”

  “I’ve been sort of ill. Exhausted. Working too much. I took a break and isolated.”

  “Oh, dear. The same way you did as a child?”

  “I don’t know. Did I sleep a lot and hide and mope around as a child?”

  “You sure did. When your sensitivities got the best of you, you did.”

  “Then the answer is yes.”

  “Oh, mercy me. When you had one of your episodes, they always left you haggard. Is that what happened?”

  “One of my episodes—ha!” My retort leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. My mother and father thought my energy experiences were blights on their social standing. They thought I was a freak. Mom took me to specialists. Dad left me alone as much as he could. Mom and Dad both took turns trying to beat me into submission. I refused to comply. Instead, I walled them out and spent as much time as I could with Grammy. Life with them was hell. I always felt safe around Grammy even though she didn’t know what was going on for me at home. I grew up keeping secrets, even from her. Still, she was and is my oasis.

  When the illnesses that swept the world took over, I tried to care for my family as best I could. According to them, I couldn’t or wouldn’t do enough. They even berated me for the care I gave them. I finally gave up, hired a nurse on my meager income, and stopped seeing them. I know I should have felt at least a little sad when they died but I didn’t—not really. No more belittling and criticism. At least not on the outside. I’d learned too well to do it to myself.

  “I was hoping you could come over and help me go through my virtual storage zone.”

  “I guess. Why do you need to do that today?”

  “Oh, they keep sending messages that I’m over my limit in what I can store in the universe.”

  A small giggle erupts from my lips.

  “What?”

  “Over your limit as to what you can store in the universe. That sounds funny.”

  “Well, that’s what the messages say. Here’s the last one I got: “Evelyn Peabody. You are advised that your universe storage device has gone over the limit of allowed space. To avoid loss of service, please upgrade or remove storage matter from the system. This is your final warning.”

  “That sounds intimidating.”

  “Oh, you know, the robots just kick those things out. Anyway, would you please come over and help me? You know how much I despise technology.”

  “I don’t know, Grammy. I’m not feeling sociable.”

  “Neither am I. We’ll be perfect company.”

  I manage to shower, dress in the last clean pair of clothes I have, and head over to Grammy’s dwelling.

  She greets me at the door and gives me a long hug. “So, what got into you that you isolated like that? I was getting worried. I even called Jonas to find out if you were okay.”

  My heart lurches. “You did? What did he say?”

  “That he hoped so but didn’t know.”

  “He said he hoped I was okay?”

  “Yes, dear, he did. I told him you were pretty devastated at being booted from his friendship.”

  “Oh, no, you didn’t, did you?” I groan.

  “I did indeed. He needed a talking-to, that boy.”

  “What did he say? Now he’ll never talk to me. Not that he would anyway.”

  “He said that he really blew it and needs to find a way to make it up to you.”

  My legs give out and I crumple onto the sofa. “Did he really say that? You wouldn’t be fooling me, would you?”

  “No, Vienna, when have I ever fooled you?”

  “You haven’t but…”

  “But nothing. He said he’s been miserable ever since he did that and he was going to find a way to make it up to you if it’s the last thing he ever does.”

  “It might just be that. I saw him a few weeks back and it’s been a whole lot of nothing ever since. I find it hard to believe he feels remorse. He’s never been shy about asking for what he wants. Except with Jenner, that is,” I add glumly.

  “We spoke about that, too.”

  I cast my eyes in her direction. “What did you talk about?”

  “About the problems he has had with her.”

  “Seriously? You and Jonas talked about his relationship problems?”

  Grammy scoffs. “What, you think I don’t know a thing or two about relationships? I dated before I met your grandfather.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that…well, what did he say to you?”

  “He just needed to talk, I think. He seemed pretty down. He’s trying to do the right thing and give Jenner a chance to get herself together. And then he mentioned something about timing and assets.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I just listened. Sometimes that the best thing you can do for a person. Anyway, he says it’s important to him to do the honorable thing.”

  “With Jenner? That again. That’s bullshit. It’s like she owns him.” I shake my head. “Let’s change the subject. Where’s your Universe located?”

  Grammy picks up a control from the side table and points it at the holo-screen. It instantly comes to life. A series of images appear in the middle of the room. She highlights one, presses a button, and folders and folders of c
ontent appear in front of us. “Here—sort through these. They’re images of you and the family when you were young.”

  I extend my fingertips and start skimming through the photos. “How can I determine which of these images you want to keep or not? They’re your family photos, not mine.”

  “I just wondered if you want any of them. I could transfer them to your Universe and free up some of mine.”

  “I don’t know,” I say, rapidly flipping through the images. “I don’t have much need to reminisce about my past. I’ve spent a lot of time burying the past. What’s done is done.”

  “Just take a look. I’ll go through these ads and virtual mags. I can delete most of those.” She points the controller at the ones she doesn’t want and they make a pop before blurring from existence. “It always feels satisfying to delete things, doesn’t it?”

  We work for over two hours, sorting, deleting, and organizing. I see pictures of my past, floating before me like distant nightmares. Then I spy an image of me and Liam. We look really happy. I study the image. It never would have worked between us, if I really stop and consider. He was too clean-cut. Too squeaky clean around the edges. Too…I don’t know. But when I look at him without all the angst of the pain I caused him, I can see that it was for the best that we broke up. And I think of the orgasm I nearly had with him. I wonder why I’ve clung so long to the heartbreak of that moment instead of letting go and moving on. I mean, I’ve let go of so much pain over the years. Why not this one? Why deprive myself of pleasure over and over and over? If Himeros ever returns…if I ever start my business up again, that is…and if Himeros ever returns, it’s going to be on my time, with my control in place.

  My pulse-com stirs my heart. I’ve ignored so many communications but this time I stroke my lips and answer.

  “Hey.”

  The male voice on the other end makes me jump. I swallow, blink, and hustle out of Grammy’s earshot. “Is that really you?”

  “Yeah.”

  We’re both filled with silence.

  “Can I come over?”

  “I’m at Grammy’s. We’re cleaning up her universe.”

  “We’re done, dear,” Grammy calls from the other room. “If you need to go, do it.”