Dale's Porno Blog

Matt wasn’t available until later that night, so met Donny and Kay in the local coffee bar. Donny was smartly dressed for a change, in casual trousers loafers and designer T-shirt. Kay was wearing a thin red dress, pale stockings with a sheen and black high heels.

A group of friends from college congregated with them exchanging vacation stories, before they all decided to go to a dance in town. En route they bought some liquor to take with them.

All during the night either Donny or Matt would touch her discreetly. She knew they were intending to get her aroused and she did not object to the attention. They would ‘unintentionally’ squeeze her thigh near her stocking top; caress her back or tickle it lightly, knowing the stimulating effect it had on her. She admonished them playfully taking their intimacies in good part.

The students secretly used the plastic ‘glasses’ to pass around their contraband. This increased the humour amongst them and loosened their tongues and limbs. Donny had more than his fair share of drink and was more than a little merry.

Sometime during the evening Donny must have told Matt about the afternoon which wound him up. He had been tetchy with Kay until she had words with him, reminding him of their own private episode.

“Anyway….” She said to him. “…you and Donny masturbate together when I’m not there. You told me.”

He quickly looked around to make sure nobody could hear her then held his palms up to signal a truce. That was the end of the matter.

++++++

The dance hall was open to all ages so had a wide variety people in it. Some were military personnel who knew Matt. They talked to him and commented how attractive Kay was.

“She your girlfriend, Matt?” One called Red asked.

“Yeh we’re friends and she’s a girl.” Matt answered.

Matt and the servicemen looked on. The alcohol had obviously gone to Donny’s feet as he gyrated wildly with Kay, who laughed at his antics but tried to keep him under control.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Said Red.

“Well yes she is.” Matt said defiantly.

“Well I’d watch your buddy he’s sure dancing close.” Said another called Chip.

“Yes well that’s because he’s retarded and needs special care.” Matt informed them, seeing a way of paying Donny back.

“Oh gee! Sorry.” Chip said remorsefully. “I didn’t realise.”

The dance was ending and one of Donny’s friends pressed a plastic cup unexpectedly into his hand. This proceeded to collapse upon contact, sending the liquid down the front of his pants. He hopped back receiving a cursory apology from his friend as he passed drunkenly by. He escorted Kay to where Matt and the servicemen were standing. He was holding his pants at the front and walking in a disarticulated manner.

The servicemen acknowledged Kay politely and she responded equally so. Donny spoke but was so drunk, slurred his words and was unintelligible. Matt turned to Red and Chip.

“See what I mean?”

Kay looked puzzled.

Chip was unsure how to react then said.

“Mighty sorry ma’am.”

Kay looked even more puzzled but found it in herself to smile and nod to him.

Turning to Kay Matt said.

“I think we better get him home. Don’t you?”

“Yes I think we had.” She replied taking hold of Donny’s arm.

Ever ready to assist the servicemen offered their help in escorting them home, which they politely declined, insisting that they go and enjoy the night. It was only about 10 but Donny being decidedly worse for wear and they called a taxi to head for the cabin. It was still reasonably light.

In the taxi Kay sat between Matt and the now drowsy Donny.

“What was all that about?” She asked Matt who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He explained what he had done and Kay laughed but chided him gently saying he was ‘awful’. Donny slumped to one side and Matt took the opportunity of placing his arm around Kay’s back. He could feel the silkiness of the dress and through that her bra thin strap. It was exciting and intimate. She turned to him and with one eye to check the taxi driver wasn’t looking, kissed him on the lips. His other arm came around her waist and then moved up to her breast. She whispered in his ear to be careful and nodded toward the taxi driver.

“It’s dark-ish.” He answered and continued his exploration, fondling her hardening nipple. She moaned into his ear and he kissed her neck. As she moved the material in her dress and stockings rustled which added to the sensuous moment. The taxi driver glanced in his mirror and Kay moved away from Matt quickly enough to prevent him seeing anything.

In this town Kay and Matt knew to be very wary of the taxi drivers, as word would travel far and wide if anything untoward occurred. For the rest of the journey they remained separate only holding hands.

++++++

When they arrived at the Matt’s house Donny awoke groggily from his sleep. Once the night air hit him it seemed to bring him round. He smiled at Kay and Matt his arms around their shoulders.

“What happened to the dance?”

As Matt paid, the taxi driver said.

“Best get him to sleep it off.”

“Yes I will.” Matt responded politely knowing that was not on the cards.

Once in the cabin Donny perked up and within a short time was able to speak intelligibly.

Kay was determined to complete her vacation story, curtailed on the afternoon.

“Now we’re all here together again.” She said and blushed slightly but persevered. “I think I should complete my vacation tale. I’m going to be really truthful here so want you to respect that.”

Both boys agreed and Matt opened bottles of cider for them all to drink. It was a reasonably warm night and Matt wore his shorts. His blonde haired legs were muscled and red where they had been scraped in a few areas, but still looked good Kay thought.

“Will I enjoy it?” Asked Donny refusing a drink. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“Maybe.” Replied Kay then added ominously. “It depends.”

“You know what I mean!” He said.

“Probably - knowing you.” She said but looked nervous and unsmiling.

They all sat down, she took a deep breath and started.

“In the second week Jen and I had just made up and dressed, finishing our breakfast cereal, as we watched TV. It was again bright outside. From the distance we heard a roar of an engine approaching the house; as it shifted gear. We all rushed to the window to see who it was. The rider wore a white T-shirt and light blue jeans, although his face was obscured by a black helmet and visor it was obviously Brad. I felt a rush of excitement through my body and placed my cereal on the table. As I told you earlier today I didn’t want to, but was becoming really interested in Brad, I just couldn’t help it.”

She looked at there faces to judge their reaction. It was not good. Matt looked crestfallen though Donny was more nonchalant. She reached out for their hands, taking one in each of her own.

“You two weren’t there.” She threw back her head as if clearing it. “I must continue, I promised.”

She continued.

“Brad switched off the engine and parked the bike. Removing his helmet he came through the now open door, beaming. Everybody was excited. He turned to my mom and said ‘Ok Aunt May, you first for a spin?’

Mom blushed and began protesting her fear and lack of desire, though I detected she was flattered by his offer. My dad laughed at her coyness and said that he thought Brad was asking the wrong one. He pointed at me and said I would be more suitable, but to be careful!

Brad said not to worry he’d ride like a pensioner and flashed his winning smile, winking at me. Then he asked me if I fancied a spin around the Keys.

Jen sensing my hesitance grabbed my arm, to snap me out of it. So I nodded my head, barely able to speak. I wasn’t quite sure what I was feeling but it contradicted my intensions for the vacation. I had always associated motorcycles with men. The thought of being in such close proximity to Brad made me feel warm but uncomfortable at the same time.”

Donny and Matt exchanged glances which Kay deliberately ignored before continuing.

“Jen was hopping with excitement. And said I must go and that Brad was a great biker and I’d have a fantastic time.

Everybody was watching me. So I said I’d love to go but what did I need to wear? My dad said I’d need a helmet and Brad said there was a ’skid lid’ on the back. Then he looked me up and down, which made me shiver and said I’d be fine as I was and that we’d be back later. He held out his hand and led me to the bike. They all cheered and my mom clapped excitedly, saying she was proud of my bravery.

Brad handed me a black helmet with orange and red flash on the side that matched the design on the petrol tank. I had no trouble putting it on over my newly styled ‘bob’ haircut. I smelled the newness of the leather and tied the strap under my chin. Brad mounted the bike and kick started the engine, the noise invading the peace of the gardens. He stabilised the bike with both feet on the ground. I climbed onto the back which was set higher and caused me to slide down to him.

I was slightly nervy and set back from him. He stopped revving the bike turned his head and asked if I could hear him ok, shouting over the engine. I shouted back, that I was fine now. Smelling the engine and oil for the first time, added to the masculinity of the bike.

Then he gave me a few tips. He adjusted his helmet slightly so I could hear him clearly. He said I was to relax, not to sit there as stiff as an old board; lean and go with the bike; if I felt uncomfortable pat his side; try not to fidget at low, or high speeds; during braking I’d lunge forward so prepare myself by either gripping the grab rail at the back or move my hand to press the tank which will take off the strain; and hold on to him when he accelerated. I remember it all even now.”

Matt and Donny nodded, impressed. She continued.

“I deliberately relaxed myself and put my arms around Brad, he released the throttle slowly and to a chorus of cheers that were soon drowned out, manoeuvred the bike up the drive and away. I could feel the strength and tension in his chest muscles and back. My legs gripped his buttocks and thighs and the feeling was wonderful.”

Matt raised his eyebrows at Donny.

“He spun out onto the main road through town, which was fairly clear. The sun beat down on our exposed arms as he rode out into less densely populated areas. I could see the flats in the distance. The road ahead looked clear, as we approached a bridge. Brad turned slightly and shouted, to ask if I was ok?

I patted his hard chest and stuck my thumb up in front of his face. I couldn’t see but felt him smile. Then he said ok let’s see what this baby can do.

I felt him kick then turn the throttle with his muscular naked arm. I gripped him firmly as we accelerated rapidly. Nearing the end of the bridge I could see a small island and a causeway stretching for what seemed like miles. Again this was clear of traffic and I laughed as he increased his speed, the wind tearing at our clothes. It was so exciting as we sped over the flats and sea, at such high speed, my soft arms, legs and body gripping this hard, firm man. As he approached the next larger isle or key, he began to slow, as there was traffic ahead.

He manoeuvred the bike around several cars, leaning and weaving through the traffic, which caused me to momentarily panic and grip him harder. Once through he reached the next causeway, he turned and shouted to ask if I was enjoying it. How much I was enjoying it I couldn’t describe. Again I raised my thumb to him. He said good and asked if I wanted to go again.

The straight and empty causeway ahead challenged him to conquer it. Again I signalled with my thumb.

As he thrust away, I leaned into him further and as I moved my hands felt the cotton material slide over his firm chest and stomach. His arm jerked the throttle further and the cooling wind whistled through our clothing as the sun shone off the passing water. The feeling was so good and I knew without intending to, I was getting aroused. I couldn’t help it; sat with my legs spread apart on the seat; pressed up against a man whom I’d admired for years, my arms encircling his well developed body; my breasts against his back. I could feel my nipples hard and protruding, probably due to the wind. The speed only enhanced the whole experience.”

Kay was sat opposite Donny and Matt. Donny once again began to fondle his cock, through his trouser pocket. Kay just smiled and continued.

“After about an hour of riding, Brad pulled into a roadside café for a coffee and break. I waited until he had both feet on the floor and used the arm he offered to help myself dismount. My breast brushed his elbow, though he didn’t react. I removed my helmet as I waited for him to park up. I was conscious my nipples were sticking out through my T-shirt; this wasn’t helped by two leery youths making undisguised comments about me. This stopped as Brad’s commanding and to them menacing figure approached. They vacated their seats and disappeared into the distance.

He asked obviously unaware of my predicament, if I was ok. I said I was fine. I saw no point in mentioning the incident and started rubbing my bottom. I told him I was a bit stiff and sore but enjoyed every minute of it.

He laughed and said that it takes a bit of getting used to or perhaps I needed more padding and nodded at my behind. I just said I’d rather not suffer.

Brad pushed open the glass and aluminium door, and indicated for me to enter. He was such a gent!”

“Is there no end to this man’s qualities?” Matt cut in.

“Don’t get jealous, Matt. He’s a really nice guy.” She paused and smiled softly. “But he’s not you.”

Matt felt flattered and apologised. She continued.

“The café was fairly empty with only a couple of tourists in. Brad asked me what I would like and I answered an OJ.

The erection of my nipples had subsided somewhat but I still felt horny and slightly guilty for that. I was wondering if I was some kind of pervert, this was my ‘cousin’ after all, and I wasn’t living in Tennessee!”

Kay took a drink as the boys laughed. She paused.

“Don’t stop!” Said Donny, fiddling with himself, Matt was doing the same.

“Ok let me catch my breath.” She said and continued.

“We arrived at a secluded beach after another half hour driving. Brad slowed down and asked if I fancied a break. Much as I was enjoying the experience I was ready, still feeling sore on my butt, so agreed. He hauled the bike near some rocks at the head of the beach and parked it up.

We walked to the beach and looked out over the pleasant sea view. It was hot and it was a relief for us to remove our helmets. We were comfortable with each other even after the previous day’s ’sandwich’. Then Brad asked if I fancied a swim. I was a bit surprised as we didn’t have any swimming gear.”

“Nice line.” Matt said sarcastically, then realising his error, when both Donny and Kay flashed him angry glances. “Sorry! Sorry!”

He said raising the palms of his hands in defence. Kay resumed.

“He just said that it didn’t matter and that we could go ’skinny dipping’ as we’d done it before. I thought yes, when we were 9 years old. He just said it’ll be lovely we’re near the Gulf Stream.

So I looked around and seeing no one, said ok why not, it’s deserted round here.

Brad ever practical said that we could dry on our clothing as it was warm enough and I agreed.”

Kay took a sip of her drink, followed by a deep breath and continued.

“He started by undoing the buckles on his leather boots. I couldn’t believe this was happening and sat a couple of rocks away from him and took off my boots.

Not looking, I heard the tinkling of the buckles as he tugged at his boots. He removed his jeans next and stood in white T-shirt and boxer briefs, covering the large bulge at the front. As he lifted his T-shirt over his head, I couldn’t resist and took a sideways look.

I removed my jeans. I was wearing, revealing sheer white panties. I felt embarrassed as he must have seen the dark patch of my pubic area; which I’ve only showed to you guys.”

Donny and Matt nodded appreciatively.

“Then I thought, why should he bother he’ll soon see me naked? I lifted my T-shirt over my head and was just in time to see him remove his briefs. I got a full on look at his firm slim buttocks and could see his black hair, creeping into the crease in his butt. Then I saw his penis hanging below his testicles, from the rear.”

Donny and Matt fidgeted and looked at each other. They were either nervous or impressed.

“I unclasped my bra.

I looked around but we were still alone. I stepped out of my white panties conscious as they were damp at the gusset. Brad turned toward me as I looked up. I could see his penis full on, the end hanging down below his balls; long and thick. I blushed slightly as he caught me looking but he ignored it.

He asked if I was ready to go. I said yes and he said he’d race me to the sea, then sped off without a second glance. As he got to the waters edge he dived into the clear cool water and began swimming. I followed, my competitive streak taking over, all self-consciousness gone. He stopped and stood waiting for me, catching his breath. As I arrived we stood facing each other, I couldn’t help sneaking a look through the clear water. It was so big! The water distorted his appendage.”

“Was it bent like Matt’s then?” Donny asked laughing.

Matt grimaced at Donny and Kay smiled sweetly, but placed her hand on Matt’s arm reassuringly.

Donny returned to fumbling with his hand in his trousers. “Where you still excited?”

Kay nodded and said.

“Yes I was. I had kind of got an obsession about it.”

She smiled but it was more out of embarrassment than humour.

“He then challenged me to a race to a buoy, in the distance. He was really happy. I dived and set off ahead of him. He followed and just managed to reach me as I touched the buoy. I was the winner!

We spent some time cooling in the water and having fun.”

“What kind of fun?” Matt interjected suspiciously.

Kay looked at him disappointed.

“It wasn’t like that. Just fun.” She emphasised. “As we dived and swam I caught glimpses of his penis, which was becoming an unwanted fascination for me. Eventually we noticed that the nearby beach was starting to fill up and Brad thought it wouldn’t be long before our ‘own’ beach would start getting visitors. With this in mind we headed back for the beach, as we didn’t want to get caught, naked.

We swam back and raced to our clothes. The sea water dried leaving salt residue on our naked bodies, in the sunshine. Brad used his T-shirt to wipe the moisture from the cracks and creases. Drying between his legs, I couldn’t help hear his large penis as it slapped against his thigh.”

She reddened and sipped more cider.

“We sat and talked as we baked dry like seaweed among the rocks.

We talked about plans for the future and stuff. We were relaxed, though I occasionally peeked at his big penis as it lay on his thigh.”

She felt she had to apologise to them.

“Sorry guys! It just was.”

Donny by now had given up any pretence of hiding what he was doing. He had removed his trousers and was sat in red briefs, which he rolled down to free his erect penis. He kept a cushion nearby to make sure he could cover himself if necessary, though he was going to dive behind the futon if they were interrupted.

Matt also had his penis poking out of his pants and was slowly easing his foreskin back and forth over the end. Even though he found himself jealous of this Brad he still found her confession stimulating. Kay was not unaffected by the sight of them both and moved to the best position for squeezing her vaginal lips. She rocked her legs, the swish of her stockings could be heard, adding to the excitement. She continued.

Hank: (Frowns at the puzzling question. Drinks more coffee while in thought, then opens eyes wide with an idea) “How about we use one of those headsets with imaging visors that they use in the high-end simulators and games? We could display real-time video images, while playing back digital recordings of sexy sounds. We could even have an infra-red scanner on the retina of her eye to detect which images get her strongest attention and reaction. And pulse rate measurement would be a piece of cake. We can also have a mini-mike to monitor her audible feedback, even with speech recognition of key words.”

Back and forth we brainstormed for most of the morning, and by the time the dozen donuts and coffee had been consumed, we had a reasonable concept ready to document on our 3-D Computer-aided-design system. We didn’t even stop for lunch - especially after six donuts apiece. By five o’clock I had perspective layouts of our concept and Hank had a bunch of computer program flow diagrams detailed. We carpool it to and from the shop, and on the way home, Hank had one more ’slight snag’ to discuss.

“You know, Jack,” he said. “Working for 8-10 hours each day on techniques to get a woman stimulated and fucked to orgasm is going to make us hornier than teenagers with their first dirty magazine. And knowing you, I can imagine that some night when you and Melissa are engaged in hot, sweaty sex, you’re going to be tempted to call a timeout to analyze what it is that you two are doing. Or even worse, you’ll write yourself one of those notes on that pad you keep on your nightstand for sudden midnight brainstorms. This is one project that we definitely don’t bring any work home, and it probably should be handled on a need-to-know basis, like the government classified stuff.”

Hank knows me only too well, and I had nothing to say to defend myself. I waited until we were stopped at the next traffic light before replying.

“You’re right, Hank,” I said. “It will be better to handle this project as if it were Top Secret. How about as a cover, we tell Melissa and Patti that we’ve been engaged by someone who wants to automate figure measurements for custom-fitted designer jeans? It would explain why we’ll have female mannekins and anatomical measuring apparatus in the shop, whenever they come by. Speaking of anatomy, have you given any thought to what kinds of lab surrogates we can use to replicate a live woman?”

Hank replied, “Hey, I’m the programmer here; hardware is your responsibility. My suggestion is to modify our female trauma victim mannekin, and make her, as they say, anatomically correct. We can buy artificial vaginas and penises through any number of sex stores on the Internet. And I intend to create some simulated biological response profiles to use for first-cut sensory feedback data. That should be good enough for a while, anyway.”

Little did we know at the time that Hank had put his finger on the major obstacle in the engineering path toward a successfully operating system.

Dr. Carr bought into our concept design, and we negotiated and signed a contract the following week. Hank and I immediately dived into the design and development phase. We give all of our projects some acronym name, followed by the software and hardware version number. We called this project VAL, for Virtual Automated Lover, and so our first model was VALv1.0. (Hint to anyone buying new software: NEVER spend money for any version labeled 1.0, unless you’re ready for a boxful of bugs.)

The Internet sex stores yielded everything we needed to convert VictimFv1.7, a prototype female trauma robot left over from that project, into Victoria, our lab subject. When we finished with her upgrades, she was complete with a penetrable artificial vagina including clit, which had its own pressure sensor for sensory feedback. We also added bendable and spreadable legs, and cyber-skin plastic breasts with touch sensors under the nipples.

Mostly through empirical trial-and-error tests and adjustments, we eventually got a working prototype system built into a standard sofa bed. Its servo-mechanisms could stroke and caress Victoria in all the right places under software control. You would have to be a techno-geek to understand the elation and high-fiving between Hank and me when, for the first time, our PC-driven robot actually located Victoria’s plastic pussy and thrust an eight-inch dildo into it. By the end of the fourth week, we had advanced to VALv1.2, which could execute three different types of foreplay stimulation as well as penetrate Victoria’s vagina with a variety of movements and energies. We were well ahead of schedule, we thought. The last major step we had left to do was close the servomechanism loop with sensory feedback data from Vicky. That was where the thread got caught in the zipper of progress.

“It’s just no good, Jack,” Hank said dejectedly mid-morning on Tuesday of Week 5. “I totally under-estimated how long the computer response time would be for using canned lookup files for simulating female bio-sensory data for stimulation feedback. We have pulse rate, breathing rate, audible sounds, and EKG brainwave data to simulate. Even with a 4X acceleration of all the file lookups and simplified datapoint interpolation algorithms, it’s well over five-point-two seconds to get a next-motion decision. And even then, all I’ve got is an educated guess on how a woman would actually respond from that kind of stimulation.”

Hank demonstrated how the simulated responses to VAL’s foreplay stroking of Victoria’s body parts were slow and erratic. The simulated intercourse was even worse – the feedback delay of Hank’s canned physiological reactions by Victoria was long enough to sometimes make VAL’s in/out motions and intensity levels go completely unstable. This was a very, very large problem. Hank had made some reasonable judgments (we thought, but weren’t sure) on what would be a woman’s reactions to various movements we had mechanized VAL to perform. Their simulations in software simply took too long for his computer program to reproduce and change, whenever VAL’s stimuli were varied.

Hitting a serious roadblock in a project is nothing new to Hank and me. My experience has been that getting around, over, or somehow past that roadblock usually involves swallowing your egotistical pride and shit-canning your first approach to search for another one. It was time for another brainstorm session. It was also time for lunch, so we went to our second venue for conceptual thinking: the all-you-can-eat buffet lunch at the Mandarin Pagoda, a small Chinese restaurant near the shop. In between snarfing pot-stickers, fried won-ton, beef with pea pods and tomatoes, General Tso’s chicken, and sweet and sour pork, we talked about what Hank needed for his software.

“So what we’re going to have to do, Jack, is to get some live response feedback to record and use in our tests,” Hank concluded. “The real problem, then, is who can we get to volunteer to be our laboratory fox?”

Little did we know that there were candidates already waiting for us at the shop. We returned a little past one o’clock, and were surprised to see Melissa and Patti standing in the workshop. It was fairly common practice for them to drop by after a shopping trip to the nearby mall, but they usually called first, and Hank and I could cover up our ‘Top-Secret’ work. But this time, Hank and I were caught with our pants down - or more correctly, with Victoria’s panties off. Our two wives were examining her, lying on her back on the sofa bed, with legs wide open, and VAL’s dildo/penis pointed straight at her obvious target. In Melissa’s hand was a reject artificial vagina, part of our Internet shopping, that I had facetiously commandeered as a pencil holder for my drafting table.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered to Hank. “Better start thinking of a good explanation for Patti. Melissa’s going to bust my balls about this.”

Our wives heard us come into the shop, and Melissa stared me down with a look cold enough to make me shiver.

“All right, you perverts!” she barked at us. “Just what the hell have you been up to?”

Hank spoke while I was still collecting my thoughts.

“Melissa, it’s not what you think. This is really a contract job. For Celeste. She’s a sex therapist. She wants us to make a robot to help women enjoy sex more.”

Both Melissa and Patti gave him that ‘Yea, you expect me to believe that’ stare. I was almost expecting a cloud to form in the room, the disbelief and tension was so chillingly heavy. Hank looked at me, his eyes begging for help.

“Hank’s right, honey,” I said. “This really is a bona fide customer-specified project. Our client is a Dr. Celeste Carr Dobbs, who runs a psychology clinic in the city. I can show you the contract.”

I went on to relate the whole story to our wives, down to the details of ordering the sex toys on the Internet. I’m not certain, but I think it was Patti who first became interested, but, to Hank’s and my relief, in about fifteen minutes both of our wives had calmed down enough to begin asking questions about Victoria and VAL. You would have to know Hank to really understand how verbose he can get when he has an opportunity to talk about whatever engineering project he is working on. Someone once described him by saying, “Don’t ever ask Hank for the time of day; you’ll wind up listening to him explain how a watch works.”

Patti and Melissa were used to his going on and on about things technical, and had developed techniques (or possibly defense mechanisms) to throttle down his motor mouth and cut to the chase. It didn’t take very long before they comprehended what the project concept and intent was, and then they, too, became intrigued. Proving once again, if you want to get someone’s attention, just say the word ’sex.’

I was feeling lots of pride in Hank’s and my accomplishments, as he chattered on about the neat features of Victoria, our prototype subject, and how VAL could be programmed to arouse her, from light caresses to super-human intercourse. Melissa, as usual, cut me off at the knees when I started boasting on how well VAL can operate.

“And what makes you such an expert on sex, Jack?” she asked. “I doubt if you know more than five different positions, and even less about what kinds of foreplay really make a woman hot.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Melissa,” Hank declared, trying to ingratiate himself with Melissa. “Jack probably doesn’t know what it takes to make you hot.”

This time, Hank’s impetuous speech backfired on him. Patti whirled on him, and blasted him, as well as me.

“And I suppose you do, Mr. I-fucked-them-both-in-college,” she exclaimed. “Let me tell you, sweetie: you’re no hot shot expert on that subject, either. I think that neither of you two know jack shit about what you’re doing here.”

Hank didn’t argue, simply saying, “Actually, honey, you’ve touched on the crux of the matter. Our project is bogged down at the moment because we can’t simulate Victoria’s sensory reactions in real time. We need some help and advice; from the woman’s point of view.”

It never ceases to amaze me how my technically brilliant, but socially clumsy, partner can continually step into shit, and then come out with a shoe shine. He had said the magic words: ‘need help from a woman,’ and almost immediately, both Patti and Melissa were listening intently to Hank, their earlier anger and disbelief totally suspended. He explained how his software required actual sensory feedback data in real time, so that the servos and stimulation movements could employ the artificial intelligence he and I had designed into them. Right now, you’re probably drawing as blank a stare as Melissa and Patti were at that moment. I stepped into the discussion to try to clear things up for the women.

“Here’s the problem,” I began. “Per Dr. Carr’s specifications, VAL here is supposed to be superior to all the masturbation toys and so-called fucking machines …”

“Like the Sybian™ machine,” Patti blurted out, then blushed as I stared at her, surprised that she was aware of such a product. “I saw it one time, on the Internet,” she explained defensively. “You saw it, too, Melissa. You were there as well.”

After staring at Melissa and raising my eyebrows over this disclosure, I continued, “Well, since we’re talking to such knowledgeable people, let me tell you how VAL here is supposed to be superior to the state-of-art sex toys, and what Hank’s and my problem is.”

Hank and I demonstrated what we had already done, and we described how we could sense a female subject’s reactions to arousal stimulation, right through intercourse. We went on to show how we could evaluate that data and adjust VAL’s motions and intensity, thereby optimizing the positive sensations for the woman. I concluded with showing Melissa and Patti how canned patterns for feedback were too slow and limited, and we were stumped on how to test and improve on VAL’s capabilities.

“So let me get this straight,” Melissa said to us. “Your robot here is designed to turn on a woman and give her some of the best sex she’s ever had.”

“Correct.”

“And that what’s it here …”

“Hank and I call it VAL, honey. It stands for Virtual Automated Lover.”

“Whatever. But it is supposed to slow down, speed up, change techniques, and so on, all based upon the woman’s heart rate, breathing, and muscle movements.”

“Yeah, that’s what it is theoretically supposed to do. Only we’re stuck on proving it through testing, because we don’t have the right kind of real-time feedback data.”

Melissa looked at me, and her eyes had that certain sparkle that she gets when she is turned on to something. It could be finding that just right pair of shoes at a store sale, or a particularly stimulating article in a newspaper or magazine. It also happens when she is feeling sexy.

“This I got to see. Hank, get that plastic and metal bimbo off that bed, and wire me up. I want to try out your VAL thing.”

“Are you really sure you want to do this, honey?” I asked. “Patti and Hank are here, too, you know.”

To my astonishment, Melissa and Patti both argued for the opportunity to try out VAL. They flipped a coin to determine who would go first. Melissa won. I told them that Dr. Carr had said that her normal patient routine is to have the patient disrobe and wear a shorty kimono, and she had provided us with two samples. I suggested that Melissa and Patti use the former ladies’ locker room and change into the robes there, while I disconnected Victoria and cleaned up the sofa bed and Hank readied VAL’s computer software to accept real-time feedback data from our actual sensors.

When our two wives returned, each now looking quite sexy with shapely bare legs displayed under floral print silk kimonos. Hank introduced Melissa to the sofa bed and VAL. It was bizarre, to say the least, observing Hank give instructions to my wife, prior to her getting it on with VAL. And all the while I was standing next to his wife, who was equally interested. It didn’t seem to phase either Hank or Melissa, as they diligently acted as though this was just another ordinary laboratory test. He picked up the modified EKG electrodes he needed to attach to Melissa’s body, and he calmly asked her if she wanted to be nude or keep her kimono on, and whether she wanted to use the missionary or the doggie position.

“What the hell,” she said, grinning at me and winking at Patti, as she dropped her robe. “Might as well go all the way. And I’ll choose missionary.”

She stretched out on her back on the sofa bed, and Hank attached the EKG sensors to specific locations on her body, which he then connected to the laptop computer system.

“Jack and I realized the noise and appearance of VAL’s servos would be a turn-off, Melissa,” he said. “So we’ve got a virtual reality headset for you to wear. It’s got some sound-cancelling headphones and a miniature plasma video display for you to look at. At first, you will see a sequence of ten second previews of video, ranging from sensuous outdoor scenes to artistic male and female nudes, all the way to a porno flick. They all have matching sound tracks. To pick one that you think will put you in the right mood, just say, ‘Yes,’ or ‘Hotter.’ Now, Melissa, make yourself comfortable on the bed. Start your background music and video, and when you’re ready to get it on with VAL the robot, just squeeze that grab bar at the head of the bed. And any time you want to stop, just let go. VAL is completely under your control.”

Melissa took a deep breath, and put on the virtual reality headset. Seeing my wife’s naked breasts and trimmed pussy exposed to Hank and Patti, as well as my anticipation of what I was about to witness, made me aroused, and my cock became partially erect. Patti noticed the bulge in my pants, and she laughed at my predicament, and playfully squeezed my cock. She followed me to my position at the laptop PC on a table nearby, where I could control the motions of VAL. Melissa selected the sensuous music and nude visuals and settled into position. I was pretty confident that our system would work mechanically, but wasn’t at all sure about how it would react to the sensor feedback from a live subject. There was a finite possibility that something could go amok, and Melissa might be injured by VAL. Hank, Patti, and I stared intently at Melissa lying on the sofa bed, as she squirmed around to get comfortable. None of us could see her face because of the headset, and I wondered what she was feeling at that moment. The tension in the room was not unlike what it must be in NASA’s control center just before liftoff.

When Melissa used the grab bar, servo motors began to whir, and an aluminum frame in the back of the sofa bed moved forward. A laser beam shining downward reflected off the sheet that covered the mattress, which allowed the system to detect where her shoulders were located. The top section of the frame then lowered itself and stopped when two of four dangling soft chamois leather strips lightly brushed against her face. This told the computer precisely where Melissa’s head was, and then the mechanized arm dragged the chamois sensors down her torso and across her hips and legs. This first pass determined the position and size of Melissa’s body, and I entered the command for initiating tactile stimulation. The frame went slowly up and down her legs, pussy and breasts, tickling her body with the soft leather strips for about a minute. I was observing from the front, and I noticed that as Melissa was stroked, she would arch her back and sigh with pleasure.

I punched the keyboard on the PC to activate the next step, which lowered a plastic tube that blew warmed, aromatic air across Melissa’s body, pausing to scan across her thighs so that the air tickled her vagina, and at the same time pinpointing its co-ordinates to the program. Melissa murmured contentedly, relaxing more with each pass of the stroking and air kisses.

I entered another command, and this time the arm rotated to expose a common dusting tool (purchased at Target – hey, we had a small budget) that contacted Melissa’s rib cage and slowly and lightly brushed over her breasts. This action gave our computer program the profile of her breasts and where her nipples were located. Melissa jumped and squealed in surprise when two soft plastic cylinders connected to a vacuum pump lowered from the arm assembly and positioned themselves on her breasts. The vacuum made the cylinders attach themselves around her breasts, and two tiny soft rubber wheels inside each cylinder began to rotate to tease her nipples. They were programmed to sometimes flick against a nipple, other times to press tightly against it and also pinch and pull. A microphone in her headset and the EKG sensors picked up Melissa’s voice and body reactions to all of these stimulations, and the program remembered which particular motions and strengths elicited the strongest reactions.