by Anaea Lay

read by A Kovacs

This story has not been previously published.

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author Anaea Lay

about the author…

Anaea Lay lives in Seattle, Washington where she sells Real Estate under a different name, writes, cooks, plays board games, takes gratuitous walks, runs the Strange Horizonspodcast, and plots to take over the world.  The rumors that she never sleeps are not true. The rumors that you’re a figment of her imagination are compelling.

You can send her an email at [email protected]

She’s on google+ as Anaea Lay and posts most everything publicly

She struggles valiantly against Twitter’s oppressive character limit as @anaealay

Yes, she stole her first name from a dead Amazon.  No, she has nothing to do with the butterfly.

about the narrator…

A Kovacs is the tireless, relentless right hand of your Future Dark Overlord.

 

Shared Faces

By Anaea Lay

Dora’s favorite thing about Justin was that he liked to talk during sex. A good conversation turned him on, and he’d keep it up until the breathless, incoherent stage right before the end. They weren’t at that stage quite yet. Soon. At the moment she was nibbling the flesh at the very top of his thigh.

What’s the spot for the sexbot to spot the spot of the plot damn spot

You’ll never get it out

The music fell from the speakers in a manic rush and Dora shifted her pace to match it. Her skin tingled in response to his arousal, her body automatically configuring itself to comply with the program they’d designed together before starting.

“Ugh, I hate this song,” Justin said.

Dora tightened her hand around him as she let go with her teeth. The conversation kept her mind engaged, prevented her from slipping completely into brain-dead-Bot mode. “Really? I like it. It’s catchy.”

“It’s awful,” Justin said. “Haven’t you seen the video?”

She had, and he was right, it was awful. A Sex Bot got jealous of her primary client’s human lover and attacked her. As if the heart-break of watching the client defend the lover weren’t enough, the video went on to lovingly depict the brutal punishment and dismantling of the offending bot. Dora’s skin went clammy-cold when she’d watched it.

“Yeah, but the nastiness isn’t in the actual lyrics, and it is really catchy.”

“I can’t belive you’d just brush that…” he trailed off when a careful placement of her tongue shoved him into the quiet phase of their coitus. She felt his tension, could smell the hormones and pleasure coiling through him, and her body mimicked it. They were moaning together at the climax, and she was trembling as she climbed back into the bed to nestle at his shoulder and stroke his hair. “That was the most amazing ‘shut-up’ I’ve ever heard,” he said with a happy sigh.

“Good.” The program complete, the super-circuitry running through her cycled down and she slipped back from the edge of brain-dead-Bot-dom.

His hands drifted down to tweak her nipples. “Do you need anything?”

“No. I got what I needed with you.”

“I never do anything for you. It feels skeezy. Don’t you have your own needs?”

“Of course I do,” Dora said. “But I’m not wired like human women. It actually does please me to please you.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead in a kiss, squeezed his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t want to be taking advantage of you, is all. This should be an equal relationship.”

“It is.”

There was a long pause. He should have drifted off to sleep, but Dora could feel his pulse and breathing and knew he hadn’t. So she didn’t sleep either, and she was ready for it when the question came. “Is it, or are you saying that because it’s what I want to hear and you’re wired to make me happy?”

“I don’t have to be here. Our arrangement is sub-optimal for [...]