Dale's Porno Blog

You wouldn’t have thought a flight suit could be sexy, would you? Shapeless, drab green, multi-pocketed, utilitarian, coarse…. But they are.. especially when spread out on a rock in the sun with a naked women sprawled upon it looking at you with a sort of sweaty sexed up smile on her…

Let me tell you a story…

Many years ago, before the Middle East became a synonym for “place where the US foreign policy gets all fucked up” and people get blown up, I was there being an oil engineer. My team used to do the geomorphology (a long word for, “find the oil”) for one of the major oil companies. This used to involve a convoy of trucks heading off into the desert with some sophisticated electronics, some unsophisticated explosives, and a map. You’d make a bang, measure the reflected waves, and bingo- plant a flag which said dig here. With the advent of helicopters it became easier to make the trips out into the desert, and the whole thing lost its adventurous edge. A 10 man team became a two man job, and the two men sometimes became (gasp) mixed- gender wise.

Which is why, in its infinite wisdom, my company teamed me up with Sara, a Canadian bush pilot who had decided to get away from a bad relationship, and a seasonal job ferrying heli-skiers up the mountains, to carrying gritty oil men around the desert. This woman could fly anything, but here, she was flying a Bell Jet Ranger like you and I would ride a bike…. And all that mountain flying meant she loved to chuck that thing around at low level and scare the shit out of camels, Bedouins, and passengers. Before being a geologist I’d spent some time in the military, so I loved that shit. All my colleagues preferred to walk, or ride with one of the other, more sedate pilots.

Now, at that time in the Middle East, Sara, being a woman, was basically confined to camp. Even so, it was a dry camp, and a dry town, and hell, even a dry country. So the only legal pursuit were films, projected onto a white sheet, drinking tea under the most stars you’ve seen in your life, and the fine art of conversation.

The fine art of dry conversation, among a bunch of engineers, soon became the fine art of hiding the manufactured booze in orange juice, and hitting on any woman within a country mile. In most cases this meant conversations with the chicks in Hustler, or Playboy, but when Sarah landed and walked into the social club, this became all too real. Some of my more dysfunctional colleagues couldn’t cope with a real woman, and retired to the pool table, and some clustered round her like she was the new teacher and they wanted to be teacher’s pet.

I stayed out of it.. I wasn’t frightened, or bewitched, and I knew that sooner or later I would have to fly with her and we could see what each other was made of then. In the mean time I drank my “orange juice” and watched Cary Grant. Also, I had a woman back home who loved me, who I loved, and with whom I was building a log frame house in the high desert of Northern California.. Things had changed since being in South East Asia—I wasn’t going to chase every piece of poontang, I was there to work, earn money, and go home.

But we did end up by flying together. I briefed her on where we had to go next, she impressed me by having done all her checks before I met her at the hard pad, and she took me out over the desert. I laid my charges, I took my measurements, I came back to the chopper, and she fired up the engine and took me home…. Despite Hollywood, you cannot have a conversation in a helicopter. The pilot is too busy and you are running over your order of business. Then you do you business, then you come back. The pilot has pilot stuff to do after landing, and you have engineering stuff to do, and so it’s not a social event.

But because we’d done it such a no nonsense way, we were done long before the other teams came back, so we got to know each other in the shade after the work was done.

I liked her. I liked her attitude. I liked her sense of humour, and I liked they way she would fend off the boys when they got too fresh. A direct flash of a glance, a questioning “excuse me?” and people would know they have stepped too far and would retreat.

She was also nice to look at. Tall, dark, with curves in all the right place, with nothing too over the top: I guess about 5′9″, athletic slim, not skinny, with shoulder length dark hair framing a smile that was worth working for, brown eyes that showed the intelligence behind them, and feminine hands.

Who am I kidding? She was gorgeous, but was one of those glorious women who didn’t know it, or, if they knew it, didn’t act it. From her unruly hair to her slim, hard working legs, she was a stunner, but not a princess. Wonderful curves held tight under her t-shirt, and a lovely ass which, to get to the point of this story… was my personal reason for appreciating the design of flight-suits. When they are pulled tight, these functional pieces of work wear show every detail of what is underneath. As we got into the routine of working with each other, I’d play a little mental game with myself…. Lace or g-string, racy bikini or ….. All you could see was the clean white t shirt, and boots, but my game kept me amused whenever I wasn’t too busy… I kept my guesses to myself, and thought no-one had noticed… turns out Sarah chose not to notice… but that’s the subject of a further story.

It worked out that she became “my” pilot and I became “her” engineer. We’d both get up early, with the dawn and watch the sun come up as the engines warmed up. I’d hold her coffee as she did her stuff, and then we’d pass the mugs out to the flight engineer, and swing out on our way.

The desert colours are amazing. Every film you see doesn’t to them justice. The rocks and sand go from red like plums to green like grass… the textures and the shadows.. and especially in the dawn, before the colours get all burnt out and too bright…

We started going further and further away from base—flying over the dark shadowed rocks, watching our shadow emerge from the darkness and race us up and down the Wadis.

As we got further and further away, and our flying time increased, I wouldn’t be able to start laying my firing lines out until it was quite hot. Then it would take some time for the readings to come back in, and then I would go and collect my firing lines, and we would go home. The heat of the noon sun, while not as bad as all that, meant that, if you could wait an hour or two, you would. It’s a dry heat, unlike that of the jungle, and the lack of trees or grass to rustle in the wind meant that it was often so silent you could literally hear a lizard a hundred yards away.

We’d take lunches, and sit in the shade of the chopper and chat. Sarah would ask questions about the seismic equipment I carried, and she would talk about cyclic pitch, and collective pitch, and effects of throttle, and how they are all related to each other.. Occasionally she would let me fly… well, not fly exactly. But follow her as we took off, hovered, and cruised home… I got into it, and she was happy to sit back as I amused myself, and her, with my wild oscillations. She’d just watch, and talk me through it over the headphones.

And then one day, it happened. I’d had a hard day laying lines and making bangs, and was happy just to nap in the shade while the machine did its thing, and to let the heat of the day pass before going to collect my wires. Sarah had had a hard day watching me and reading her book. I spread out my canvas sheet, and bunched up my sweater for a pillow, pulled my hat over my eyes, and sacked out to wait for the sun to pass overhead.

My eyes closed under my hat. I heard Sarah come out of the chopper and walk around to the shade. I could sense her looking down at me, but didn’t stir.

“You don’t mind, do you? You looked so comfortable, eh?”

I didn’t, really, so I moved over, and felt a body come and lie down on the groundsheet next to me.

Her flight suit smelt clean, and fresh (compared to my work-shirt, made sweaty by the morning’s hikes anything would smell clean and fresh). I drowsed, she drowsed, we drowsed.

I woke to an itch. She had rolled over in her drowse, and her head was on my shoulder, and her hair tickled my nose. My arm fell naturally under her head, and she sleepily snuggled in.

It got hot, and quiet.

When I woke up I still had my hat over my eyes. In that little gap between the brim of my hat and my cheeks I could see her lying on her side facing me,– her suit was unzipped all the way, but she was wearing the white t-shirt of the series I had seen drying by the laundry… it had ridden up a bit, and I could see the waistband of her white panties (which I hadn’t seen, I guess she did them herself in her quarters).

I kept my breathing steady…. and waited. The breeze came and took away the perspiration and she wriggled a bit, and snuggled back into my shoulder.

We slept. At least she slept. I guess. But I just argued with myself about what was happening.

By the time the Sun had crept around to move our shadow away, it was time to get up… My disciplined drinking habits (a quart an hour, whether I wanted to or not), had caused a painful erection and so I eased myself up… only to catch Sarah looking at the tent in my khaki’s.

“Wow” she grinned up at me from the canvas.

“‘Wow’ yourself” I said (wittily) and laughed at her rumpled hair, mussed and cascading over her green suit and the white t-shirt, and the glimpse of the white panties. Why is it, what you don’t see is more intriguing than what you do?

“How did you get that tan?” It was true… she had a dark gold tan all over. It glowed through the t shirt and was only hidden by the material of her bra.

“This one?” she lifted a corner of her t-shirt…. Man, I tell you, I don’t know what she was thinking, but I was lost when I saw the smooth ridge of her pelvis emerging from the white cotton of her panties, and framed by the nomex suit in the shadow of her shirt..

“That one” I said… and impulsively licked the end of my finger and traced the line up on her skin. The dry desert air cooled it immediately and a line of goosebumps appeared. The 14 year old in me thought ‘cool!’ and my erection returned.

Somewhere, somehow, the world slowed down, and we went into a different universe.. Where actions don’t have premeditated consequences, time is chopped into moments that don’t connect, and the sky is always blue blue blue. The world stood on its head and my blood roared in my ears.

“Same place you got that one” she said… and reached for my shirt collar with her finger, tracing a line down my neck to where my buttons were trying to keep my heart in my chest…

‘Uh oh’ I thought. “This one is a farmer’s tan” and took off my raggedy shirt to show how white my body was.

“This one’s the tan of a pilot who knows she has one and half hours of sunbathing before her engineer comes back from the bush… and who makes so much noise with all his equipment that even when you came back early I can put my suit back on in time.”

“Nooo… you get naked when I go to work?” my mind and eyes glazed… she laughed. “just topless, when we’re far away, and just some days… and stop looking like a teenager… you can look now.”

And with that, her suit slid down her arms to be held up at the belt by her hips, when they were free, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it off over her head… oh man, she was gorgeous- and even now, years later, I can still see her smooth belly, and muscles in her arms as she lifted it over her head and the curve of her breasts, wrapped in a plain white sports bra. She shook her hair loose and looked at me, wickedly.

You know ‘Wiley Coyote” feeling? He’s skidded off the road and over the canyon, and is about to plummet down to splosh in the river far below? I had it. My friendly, but distant, relationship was about to change… and suddenly we were shirtless in the desert and I was with a hot chick with a wicked glint in here eye coming towards me. My mouth went dry.

“Wait!” – I cursed my dry mouth. “How did this happen?” The brakes had failed on my truck of reality and I was trying to get a grip on the slippery road to somewhere strange. Clearly I was part of a plan, but had no clue as to where this was going.

“Shush”, she put her fingers on my lips, suddenly serious- “I know about Helen”- I flinched, this was my woman back stateside and honestly, I hadn’t thought of her in to two minutes that this was going pear-shaped. “This stays out here in the desert. I like you, but I like you enough not to want to fuck up your life. But I’m horny as hell. I’ve caught myself heading towards making some really stupid mistakes with some of the guys in the camp. I’ve stopped myself in time but I need your help. I need a human touch. We’ve spent 4 months together and there’s another 2 months left in my contract. This is about trust, faith and passion…. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman. I can trust you to be discrete; you can trust me to be discrete. I think we have the same sort of view of life, love, and passion. It’s too short, and too precious…” She tailed off. Looking slightly at me, she’d put into words all there was to say on her side, and on mine. The only question was; were we going to dive into this, or back away and retreat to our self contained little worlds?

I took out a cigarette—this was before they became dangerous and anti-social.. Fumbling in my shirt gave me valuable seconds. I hesitated…

“So what did you have in mind”

“Whatever you like, I think. Right now, I want to be touched by someone who cares about me. I want to remind myself I’m a woman. I want to be held. I miss the erotic side of me and I can’t do it alone anymore. I want to feel the heat of another human. I don’t know what I want exactly, but I’ve got an ache I need your help with.”

I thought about the last few months away from human touch, and how soft her skin looked. I thought about a million things in a millisecond. Helen, honesty, faith, trust, and limits….

“Come here…”

She hit me about breast level and wrapped her arms around me—my arms went around her shoulders and I stroked her hair… “okay, okay, okay” I hummed into her hair.. “take it easy…”

And so it began.

Skin on skin was nice. Her breasts swelled into my ribs and the ridges of her cotton straps were cool compared to the heat of her skin.. She smelled clean (compared to an engineer who had been working up a sweat all morning..) and her hands went up and down my back, feeling the muscles in my back and scratching gently. She nuzzled my shirt and buried her nose in my chest. I could feel her breathe me in. I smelled like a man who had been working all morning in the hot sun, but if that’s what she wanted to smell, that was fine with me.

I kept my hands above her waist: So far, it wasn’t that far from dancing, except I was shirtless. I took a half step backwards, to keep my balance after the impact of Sarah. I failed; my foot caught in the groundsheet and I went down.. She came with me and landed on my belly.. My hand slid under her flight suit and cupped her ass- I caressed the skin and her panties— “Oof”. She got up on her elbows and looked at me… “okay—now you’re my prisoner” I laughed—5′9 and 140lbs of her holding down 6 foot 200lbs of me. I didn’t stop stroking her ass. Smooth cotton, smooth curves to die for. The buttock fitted right in my hand as if it was designed that way. My fingertips lay along the shadow of her crevice, my thumb along the waistband, where the coolness of the cotton met the warmth of her honey skin.

I rolled her over- “prisoner eh?” now we were lying side by side… nose to nose - body to body, her bare legs wrapped around my chinos… I stroked her hair.. “listen,” I said “we can do this, but we have to be honest. There’s passion here- we can feel it. You’re gorgeous and I trust my life with you every day, and don’t even think about it. But I don’t want to change my life nor do you want to change yours- The ski season is waiting for you in Calgary, and Helen is waiting for me in San Diego, but it feels like a long way away and anything might happen between now and then. I agree– you and I should let the passion animal in us out of the box, it needs tenderness. You don’t want to be fucked. I’m in no rush to break my promises either. But we can find where we are comfortable and balanced and not go doing crazy things..—and your ass feels perfect.. but we shouldn’t…”

I looked up at the sky and the side of the chopper silhouetted against it. It was perfectly blue and perfectly shadowed. I made a bargain with whatever gods I had left- Let me be a good thing for this woman.

I took her hand and kissed it, and licked it and the salt off it diligently… very diligently. She spread her fingers and made a gentle noise like a kitten… I took her fingers and spread them, and flicked my tongue over the web of skin between them… “Oh Jesus” she whispered, “that’s it” I worked every inch of her hand, her fingernails, her thumb, her knuckles, in my mouth, and with the tip of my tongue… I kissed the fleshy part of her thumb, and bit the web between thumb and first finger. I took her first finger into my mouth and rolled my tongue around it, getting it as warm and wet as I could. I took the second finger in too, and sucked it like I wanted her to be doing to my cock. I bit all up and down her third finger, and she pushed her hand further into my mouth…. All the time I could hear her growling and hmmm-ing… and could feel her wrap her legs harder and harder around my leg. I could feel the heat of her pussy through the cotton of her panties, her suit and my khakis, and could feel her slide up and down in tiny movements against my leg.

She shook, and arched her back, and the zip of her suit ground against the muscle in my thigh, caught between her thighs. She wrapped her green clad legs around me, and with a quiet “ah ah ahh ahhh ahhhh” she came against me.

She buried her head in my shirt again and clung on for dear life. I stroked her hair as she quivered like a little frightened bird in the hand.

“Was that what I thought it was?” I said,

“Yes… how did you DO that? I guess I must have been wound tighter than I thought?” She giggled… she wrapped herself tighter against me… and I pulled her in closer. Well, I thought as I looked over the top of her head at the rotors against the sky…, that’s another element of infidelity crossed, and I didn’t feel a thing..

Oh yes, I was hard. My god.. I don’t masturbate much— I don’t really see the point, and whether it was an illusion or not, my balls ached blue… and now I could see the point of masturbation- if I didn’t take care of some pressure now, something was going to burst.

“Sara… sit here and stay here, no matter what, okay - you’re so lovely and I want to make love to you so bad, but I don’t want to regret it later so I want you to stay right there on the ground sheet…”

I got up, and loosened my belt. And slid my pants down to the ground- my boxers went down with them, leaving me in my socks on the rock and sand of the desert. I leant back against the warm metal of the chopper… and wrapped my hand around my cock.

I was standing at the edge of the sheet, and she almost at my feet… I can see her now, looking up at me from the ground sheet. Sitting cross legged with her hair even more mussed and her white shirt by her side.. the light dawned and she nodded.. “Come for me” she said.. “just come for me- I want to see you come for me..”

She took off her bra over her head and it joined the puddle of tshirt. They were perfect, brown, tanned, taut skinned, smooth, and untouched.

She pushed her hands under her breasts and caressed them— she pulled on her nipples and twisted it—her face twisted into a gasp and wince.. and then she did it again..

By now Melissa was sighing and her skin was getting flushed, definitely getting turned on. She opened her legs wider, and began to purr like a contented kitten, just as she usually does when enjoying foreplay. I went to the next phase, which controlled an oscillating vibrator, equipped with soft plastic rubber ribs much like an electric toothbrush – recommended by Dr. Ruth, the website had boasted. It moved to advance from the back frame and go between her legs to stimulate her inner thighs. As the vibrator moved closer to Melissa’s pussy and clit, I watched her body squirm and her legs open wider to admit the stimulating little head.

It didn’t take very long for the probe to be guided by her moans and body signals to make contact with her clit, at which time Melissa cried out loudly. I was elated that the system automatically detected the precise location and movement that gave Melissa the strongest sensations and dwelled on that particular location before changing to another for variety. When that motion did not get as much reaction from Melissa, VAL returned to the one that did.

“Oh, my God, this is great!” Melissa cried out. “I’m in heaven. I never know where the next feeling or sensation is going to be! Oh , this is so good! Aah, that makes my clit tingle. Oh, God, I want to be fucked!”

Melissa said the magic word, and the speech recognition software in the computer recognized it as a command to withdraw the vibrator and move a dildo forward, pressing it against her vagina. I had to make a minor co-ordinate correction to the dildo servo, and guided the lubricated shaft past her labial lips to let it slide into her vagina. Melissa gasped from the penetration and thrust her hips upward, allowing the dildo to slide in deeper.

“Oh, yes!” she cried. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! Oh, keep fucking me, please!”

Melissa wasn’t the only one getting excited at how well our robotic lover was performing. I looked over at Patti, and gasped to see her robe slightly parted, her hand between her legs, playing with herself. I caught Hank’s attention, and pointed to Patti. Soon Patti noticed us noticing her, and she opened her robe and flashed us before she went back to playing with her pussy and watching Melissa with VAL.

The biofeedback controls on the dildo, vibrator and breast stimulators continued to drive Melissa toward her first climax. I had no idea what sensor levels would be correct for her orgasm, so I kept observing her until I thought that she was almost there. Then I entered the ‘Maintain this level’ command, and watched what would happen. The robot slowed down the in and out strokes of the dildo, at times just penetrating Melissa to its head, other times slowly pushing all the way in and then slowly withdrawing. Occasionally, it withdrew altogether, and energized the breast stimulators. Whenever Melissa mewed her disappointment of being let down, VAL sensed it, and began to strengthen her stimulation until she almost reached her peak once again. I let VAL continue this routine to stretch out Melissa’s excitation for over ten minutes.

By then Melissa was almost frantic with her arousal. Finally, she shouted, “Oh, God, I can’t take this much longer! Oh, please let me come! I want to come so badly! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Now!”

I punched in the ‘Save sensor data’ command, and then told the robot to fuck to orgasm. The ram drove the dildo all the way into Melissa’s vagina, and thrust in and out much faster than any human male could have done. At the same time, the nipple stimulators tormented Melissa’s breasts, and her screams of ecstasy almost frightened Hank and me. The program also registered the intensity and executed the penis ejaculation mode before slowing down the stroking, but it did not stop. This was what Dr. Carr had said they wanted, and which few human males could perform. I watched to see what Melissa’s reaction would be as she was continually fucked after VAL had cum inside her.

We counted three more orgasms before Melissa finally stopped the machine. I reached down to help Melissa off the bed and took off the virtual reality headset. Her knees were still rubbery from the excitement, and she had to use me for support to put on her kimono and get to a chair. Patti offered Melissa a glass of water, which she gulped down greedily. After a while, her breathing and composure was pretty much back to normal, and she could talk about her experience.

“Holy shit, Jack. That machine is fucking fantastic! No offense, sweetheart, but never have I been so turned on like that. I especially liked when he - no, it - would bring me up almost to the point of coming, and then string me out. The feeling was incredible! And then, when he kept on fucking me after he came in me, that was just too much. Patti, you’ve got to try this thing!”

Patti said, “Oh, believe me, I will, after seeing what it did for you, Melissa. I’m already dripping after watching that thing work you over. Jack, is there any way that we can skip the foreplay? My pussy is already fired up and wants to feel a cock inside it.”

I told her that we first needed to switch personal dildos before she could start. Then the system needed to go through all of its modes to determine where the critical target points are on the subject’s body. But I assured that her feedback signals should tell the computer when she was ready for the next phase, and the foreplay would be short but sweet. Patti stripped of her kimono, and, at Hank’s suggestion, she tried the doggie position. The sensors needed some corrections to locate Patti’s clit from the underside, but her test flight had results similar to those of Melissa’s.

By the time that Patti was up to her orgasmic level and being drawn out, however, I was almost frantic with a huge erection. I wanted to come so badly. Melissa noticed me, and unzipped my pants to take my cock into her mouth to lubricate it with her saliva. She only sucked once or twice, and then turned around and bent over the laptop table.

“Come on, Mr. Inventor. This time I want the real thing.”

I admit that I came long before VAL did, but Melissa told me later she enjoyed my cock and cum just as much.

After Patti came down from her high, she let Hank fuck her like Melissa did me. The four of us took showers together in the shop bathroom, and then we went into the hot tub to discuss our experiences of that afternoon. I thanked Melissa and Patti for becoming such a vital part of our development team, and reminded everyone that we still had work to do before we delivered VAL to our client, Dr. Carr. But the majority of the discussion revolved around what the four of us were going to do after we delivered VAL to the customer. Hank suggested that we build a second system for our own use. I expressed my concerns that we might have opened a Pandora’s box.

I asked, “What does everyone feel about what happened this afternoon? I’ve got to admit that it’s pretty weird to think that Hank and I designed a robot that fucked our wives’ brains out. This could destroy both our marriages and our friendships.”

It was Patti who made the decision for us.

“I don’t think that will happen, Jack,” she said. “That was some of the finest recreational sex that I have ever had in all my life. And all the while I was getting it on with VAL, I felt that I had received a gift from the man I truly love. And there certainly was no sneaking behind one’s back, and VAL here will not kiss and tell. I think that Melissa will say the same thing. Let me ask you, Jack. What do you feel, after you watched Melissa getting laid like that?”

I thought about that a minute, then answered, “I feel proud that I was the one who made something that could give her so much pleasure. And I have to say that I felt the same thing when I watched you, Patti. It really was a turn-on for me as well, to see the sexual pleasure that you women enjoyed from getting it on with an android that Hank and I developed.”

Hank said, “I feel the same way, Jack. It blew my mind to see Patti and Melissa have such intense orgasms. And I would imagine that any woman will get as much pleasure as you two did today, if she gets to try out that machine. Who knows how many of Dr. Carr’s clients will have their lives changed by what VAL can do?”

Melissa agreed with Patti and Hank, and from then on, the four of us collaborated on Celeste Carr’s android sex surrogate. At Melissa’s and Patti’s suggestions, Hank and I made some changes to the foreplay stimulation techniques and devised a different scheme of dildo thrusting. Patti also suggested that the headset display videos should include a point of view option of a male partner, just as if the female subject were looking at him. When I said that a video like that would be hard to find, she blushed and announced that she had one with those very same scenes in her private collection. Hank was surprised to learn that Patti even had a porno flick collection.

It took three more weeks to roll out VALv1.4. About every third day, we scheduled afternoon ‘lab tests’ for Melissa and Patti. By the second week, their co-workers and some of our neighborhood wives began asking them the reason for their satisfied smiles and enthusiastic attitudes they seemed to be displaying all the time. Melissa’s standard reply was that their feelings were simply the pleasure of being able to work with their husbands on a common project. And Hank and I learned that our partners have a much greater appetite for sex than we had realized. Suffice it to say that VAL was not a rival or threat to either of us. Both Patti and Melissa had plenty left over for their husbands.

On the day of the acceptance tests for Celeste Carr, Melissa and Patti prepared a ‘christening’ party, complete with champagne, hors d’euvres and petit fours. Dr. Carr brought one of her surrogate partners with her to test VAL. The surrogate had no reservations about getting it on with our android, even with the five of us observing. She was extremely enthusiastic about the robot’s performance, so much so that she persuaded Celeste to give VAL a go as well. When Celeste regained her composure and got her clothes back on, she wrote out a check for the negotiated amount, plus a $5,000 bonus. She also mentioned that if VAL worked as well with her dysfunctional clients at her clinic, she wanted to license other clinics around the country. That really pleased Hank and me. Any product manufacturer will tell you that it is the follow-on orders that really bring in the profits.

I expressed our gratitude to Dr. Carr, while receiving the check from her. “Thank you, Celeste, for giving Ramscott this opportunity. The bonus is going to Patti and Melissa. Without them, Jack and I would not have been successful. Have you got any final words to say, Hank?”

Hank, in his usual earthy manner, lifted his champagne glass to propose a toast. “To VAL, and may he benefit all the ladies that are introduced to him. And to you, Celeste, for your generosity and faith in Ramscott. You know, this may very well be the first engineering project in history where the customer got really fucked over, and the designers got a bonus for it.”

Since that memorable prototype development phase, VAL is still an on-going project in the Ramscott shop. A couple of months after taking delivery of VALv1.4, Serial No. 001, Dr. Carr placed an order for three more units. With the normal material overage and some personal orders, Hank and I built a fifth unit that sits in the shop’s conference room, looking innocently like any ordinary sofa. About three or four times a month, Melissa and Patti come down to the shop to get it on with VAL (and us). Hank programmed a maximum usage limit into its computer, however, in case our wives get too addicted to mechanical fucking. Both of them can achieve multiple orgasms in an evening, between VAL and Hank and me. It’s not yet happened, but after one session last week, the girls discussed the idea of inviting Kathy, one of our neighbors, who was roughly dumped and divorced by her husband a year back. In a long crying session with Melissa recently, Kathy confided to Melissa that she has been extremely frustrated sexually, being without a man. Hank and I suspect that the women are working up to agreeing to a fivesome, if and when the time is right.

Meanwhile, Hank and I have begun working on design specifications for VALv2.0, adding enhancements that the four of us have thought of. We’re also waiting for user feedback from Dr. Carr’s clinic as well. There might be some interesting stories from satisfied VAL users that she will share with us. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions as to what a robot like VAL could do to enhance a woman’s life, I’d be delighted to hear from you, too.