Log inIt's About Saving Yourself Ch 17
Good afternoon folks.
Wonder of wonders! This was the first weekend where I wasn't frantically busy with something in...
Uhh...
...
... ...
All year? Man...that is depressing.
BUT as a result! I am able to post chapter not in the evening!
I think of this chapter as the start of the next 'Arc' of the fic. Where we're getting close to the climax and conclusion
Now, bit of a spoiler but I think it necessary in case someone doesn't have the time to read it today and reads it at work or something.
Be forewarned. This chapter contains The Sex.
And not in a 'they hugged with clothes on and the screen faded to black' sex. So if you normally read this at work and your HR department would flip the fuck out about you reading porn during your lunch break? It might be wise to wait until later.
Warning done and over with. Hope you enjoy the chapter. I'm still a novice at sex scenes, but I did my best at it. So hope you lot enjoy it.
And if not, please drop me a comment and let me know how I can do it better next time.
Is it kinda fucked up that sex is seen as a greater taboo than doing grievous bodily harm to another human being in media, at least in the US, or is it just me?
ANYWAYS.
=][=
“Thank you very much.” I said with a smile as I took the bottle of water the waitress brought me, drank half of it, and set it down next to the mixed drink someone gifted me but I didn’t plan on drinking because I didn’t see it prepared. Then went back to looking at my ‘food.’
I was careful with my movements; I didn’t want to accidentally tear the stitching on the tux. It was a rental, and while I may have gotten the insurance in case something happened and it was ruined, why ruin a perfectly good tux?
No matter how much I disliked wearing one.
The ‘food’ in question was a pastry looking thing with tiny black spheres I was surprised to learn was caviar.
It was also like, two tablespoons in volume and cost more than the average Night City employee made in three months. And why the hell was the ‘food’ on one side of the plate, and the sauce in three lines on the other side of the plate? Wouldn’t the sauce go on the food?
The sauce was bright green, and I wasn’t sure I trusted it. Bright green things are unnatural ever since the Corporate Overlords killed most of the planet’s biosphere. But mama didn’t raise no bitch, so I stuck some of it on my organic pinky finger and licked it.
It was salsa verde.
It was the exact same salsa I used whenever I bought tacos down the street from the apartment. Only that one was actually good, not this watered down version.
What kind of sociopath waters down salsa verde and then only uses it to dirty a plate?
Seriously? They cheapen out on the sauce? On this damn restaurant in one of the tallest buildings of Downtown, with a high enough view of Night City to hide the filth and rot so it looks beautiful and pristine, and they can’t even afford good sauce? No, no it’s not that they can’t afford it, they afford it, and then ruin it on purpose and use it to dirty a plate for no reason!
Truly I lived in the darkest timeline.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you balk at food before.”
I looked up at my date. Lucy was dressed in a silver-grey one-piece backless dress that mostly covered the lines of her cyber-ware and straddled the line between elegant and sexy perfectly, movement drawing my eye to her crossed legs as she absently kicked one of them, making the hem of the dress ride up over her knee just enough to give me a glimpse of her thigh. She was leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand and giving me a tantalizing view of her décolletage. Her own dish looked like pasta and a few oysters.
I looked back to my ‘food,’ sighed, and looked for something interesting in the mostly bare, alabaster white walls and fuck all for decorations of the restaurant. Then went back to my food and tried to relax, doing my best to let my tension out through another sigh. “I dunno, isn’t food supposed to be cooked?”
Lucy tilted her head, her smile contagious. “You’ve eaten sushi before.”
I snorted. “We both know that the ‘sushi’ we ate was genetically closer to broccoli and plastic than fish.”
Spying movement at the edges of my vision, I saw that the two of us were drawing the eyes of the other patrons of Bleu. There was an eclectic mix. I could spy the high placed corpo rats and their ‘courtesans,’ the less high placed corpo rats with their dolled-up whores who were trading a night of sex for a taste of high profile living, several BD stars, several more BD porn stars, and a few influencers making the most of their five minutes of relevance.
They were dressed in the usual spectrum from elegant to garish. Everyone present was one shade or another of gorgeous, the absolute best looks money could buy. The men all had the build of a perfect plastic Adonis, the women were a little more varied, but one and all had that sculpted near flawless hourglass that shone like good glass, though I worried for the one that replaced all of her skin with silver fashion-ware. She definitely got ripped off, that was silver steel, not silver, and she’d eventually build up a static charge strong enough to hurt herself.
Lucy and I were, objectively speaking, the least conventionally attractive people in the establishment. My own build was too broad shouldered, deep chested, and sitting as I was at 14% body fat according to my self-diagnosis tool, my abs while visible, lacked the lean pop of muscle on skin. Not to mention my jawline was far from the perfect patrician sculpt one saw in statues of Greek heroes.
Lucy was lean but had a healthy squish in all the right places. Her build was a little uneven as her legs were more muscular than the rest of her due to all the running she did, and while I absolutely loved her tits, they weren’t perfectly symmetrical teardrops. She was attractive, and while I could very happily spend a few hours looking at her face, her face objectively had its flaws that, to me, just highlighted how beautiful she was.
In short, we looked like what we were. An average schmuck who worked for a living, out to treat a girl who is way beyond his league to a fancy dinner.
Two examples of the mostly natural in a shrine of the post-humanly sculpted.
Two individuals whose flaws helped highlighted their good points, contrasting the homogeny of ‘the best looks money could buy.’
Two people making an island of relative normalcy in a sea of the unnaturally pristine.
Our intrusion, though paid for, was unwelcome. We did not belong, the contrast we represented from the reality these people enforced around themselves was an undesired reminder that their perfect little plastic bubble did not, in fact, exist in a vacuum.
And normally that’s as far as it would go. We would be put out of mind in anticipation for the wonderful moment where we would also be placed back out of sight where we belonged.
And yet, not a one of them could stop themselves directing hungry gazes at us.
Lucy was the only one in the building that looked genuinely happy to be there. The two of us were the only ones drawing genuine delight purely from each other’s company. My bringing her here was not transactional, I wanted to treat her to a fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant, so I’d saved up until I could.
Her thorough schadenfreude at my lack of comfort was just a bonus, and honestly? She was hot when she was being playfully mean to me. I did not know that about myself and I wasn’t certain what to do with that information.
We were two people who were into each other, enjoying each other’s company and delighting in the other’s reactions to this shared unusual experience.
A glimpse of genuine connection, camaraderie, and yes, attraction. Things missing from the purely transactional relationships we sat in contrast of.
Were we dressed in our usual attire, they could fool themselves into thinking what we had did not matter, we were of the lower class, beneath notice. But no, we were just alike enough to them to force upon them a standard to measure themselves against. A marred but honest mirror that demanded they gazed upon their own warped reflection.
The snakes around us caught a glimpse of what we had that they had purchased a facsimile of, and coveted it, while having no idea how to obtain it that did not revolve around simply throwing money at it.
Or maybe I was wrong, letting my prejudices run in my head, and bullshitting to distract myself from the fact that I accidentally ordered raw fish eggs because I can’t read faux-French and thus picked a dish at random.
“I can see it now.” Lucy said, tilting her head, her smile turning into a playfully mocking grin. “Here lies Alexander Martinez, seducer of GILFs, scourge of the Animals, warrior, savior, brought low by the most cunning of all foes; fish eggs.”
“I will bend you over my knee and spank your bottom redder than I did ‘Becca’s.” I growled.
“Don’t threaten a girl with a good time.”
Mini-me flexed at her ‘come get me’ grin, and if we weren’t in public, I might just have made good on my threat.
I grabbed my ‘dinner’ with my organic hand, took a deep breath, and tossed it in my mouth. I then forced myself to chew on it.
I blinked in surprise. “Huh.”
Lucy did not look particularly heartbroken over her source of entertainment being consumed. “So? What’s the verdict?”
I chewed a bit longer before swallowing the morsel. “…How in the name of all that is holy is this worth five-thousand eight-hundred eurodollars?”
Lucy broke out into startled laughter.
I scratched my head with my metal hand, the synthetic leather glove blunting the metal claw into something that felt almost natural. I did my best to keep my volume mostly private. “Seriously. It’s a cracker, cream cheese, cilantro, and fish eggs, which apparently taste like salt and vaguely fishy, with an aftertaste of butter! Nearly six thousand eurodollars for cream cheese and buttery seawater!”
Lucy laughed so hard she snorted, then laughed harder.
“Honestly at this point I’m afraid to try their meat dishes.” I muttered while Lucy tried to get herself under control, her cheeks flushed from her laughter.
“Buttery seawater.” Lucy murmured with a snort once she got herself mostly under control. “Only you, Alex.”
“If there’d been more than half a teaspoon, I’d have given you some so you could see I’m not exaggerating.”
“Nah, I’m good.” She said and ate a bit of her pasta.
Her seven thousand eurodollars pasta.
I continued drinking my water, maybe I’d pick up a burger or a pizza after this, because I certainly wasn’t anywhere near full. I also kept my hand near my Omaha, because like hell I was actually going to check all my weapons in at the door.
Something I was glad of as apparently I had earned the scorn of the patrons around me.
If I gave a rat’s ass about what they thought, I might feel bad. But as it stood, I’d slapped them all with a Weapon’s Glitch daemon soon after I sat down, unless one of them had a wholly analog weapon, I had the only working firearm on the floor.
Lucy enjoyed herself, I enjoyed my three hundred eurodollars worth of 8 ounces of thoroughly ordinary water.
Cheaper than the wine though.
Lucy finished her food, then at her urging I asked for the check.
We left the fancy establishment. I felt thoroughly ripped off and resolved never to patronize Bleu ever again. Several of the men and women watched us depart, Lucy’s right hand clasped in my left, our fingers intertwined.
The moment we were out the door, Lucy proved I was the luckiest schmuck in the world when she said. “The pasta was okay, now let’s go get a pizza, I’m hungry.”
“As the lady wishes.” I said as I opened the door to my car for her. “I’m just glad to be out of there, I was getting tired of all the looks you were getting.”
“The looks I was getting?” Lucy said with a snort once I climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, I mean, you’re gorgeous. Duh?”
Her cheeks gained a dusting of pink. “What about all the waitresses?”
I tilted my head as I exited the parking lot and drove onto the streets of downtown. “What about ‘em?”
Lucy sighed wistfully. “You really didn’t notice, did you?”
“I kept track of the ones that were armed or were likely to have combat chrome.” I defended.
She snorted. “They were all trying to hit on you.”
I blew a raspberry. “No, they weren’t.”
“Our waitress’ skirt got shorter every time she came to deliver something or ask if we needed anything.”
I shrugged. “She was fishing for a bigger tip. Rather inappropriate when my date was there with me, but I’ll respect the hustle.”
“Another waitress unbuttoned her blouse and faced toward you any time she entered your field of vision.” Lucy pressed.
“Yeah, but that happened when that one has-been influencer got rowdy, figured she was making it easier to draw a pocket pistol from her cleavage.” I said, as I wove through traffic, utterly unafraid of anyone trying to intimidate me on account that my car had armor and ninety-nine cars out of a hundred didn’t. “With uniforms that tight she wouldn’t have had anywhere else to put it.”
Lucy, chortling, said. “That one BD starlet that bought you a drink? The napkin with the drink had her contact info.”
I blinked in surprise and glanced at her. “It did? Why? I am obviously in a relationship. Why would I entertain some random woman in the middle of a date with my input?”
Lucy’s chortles became throaty chuckles. “Oh wow, never change, Al.”
I blinked again. “But we all change on a daily basis? If you think about it, you change every second. Hell, your cells are in a perpetual state of decay and renewal. The only way to remain static as time moves forward would be to have some kind of stasis field technology an—”
Lucy’s chortles turned into guffaws.
I scrunched up my face in exaggerated offense. “I am being made fun of and my inherent autism doesn’t let me figure out how.”
“Shut up and get me a pizza.” Lucy said while lightly slapping my shoulder.
“As the lady wishes.”
I stopped by the Hometown Deli in Corpo Plaza next to the Militech Office tower, for once I even looked like I belonged, dressed as I was in a Tux.
Why stop at an overprized food joint in Corpo Plaza? Because I had no idea how, but the proprietress had ham and mushroom pizza with honest-to-fuck genuine ham.
Sure, the slices were thin.
Paper thin.
But they were genuine fucking meat. And thorough DNA testing showed it came from a legitimate animal, sus scrofa domesticus, to be precise.
I had refrained from investigating any further. I didn’t want to ruin the magic.
I went back to my car nine hundred Eurodollars poorer, but with Pizza, which made me far richer in truth.
I drove to her apartment, where we changed to more comfortable clothes, sat on her couch, set up a projector, ate a pizza, and watched one of the movies from the treasure trove of old-world media I received while doling out money by the truckload to get Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.
“So wait, they had a whole book full of addresses and contact info?” Lucy asked as Arnold Schwarzenegger stopped at a phone booth, threw a man aside and looked up the home address of his target.
“It was a simpler time.”
“Also, his HUD is useless. Utterly impractical. And why would he need a HUD anyway if he’s an AI? A HUD is explicitly a User Interface, an AI wouldn’t need one.”
“Lucy, this movie is almost a hundred years old. The net wasn’t even a thing yet beyond some colleges and the military. Artificial muscle, the Eurodollar, CHOOH2, Biologic Interface Chips, this movie predates them all.”
“It’s…quaint.” Lucy settled for after a thoughtful silence. “Though I’m surprised the effects hold up so well, I’ve seen two-year-old movies with effects that hold up worse.”
“That’s the beauty of practical effects.” I shot back.
I picked up another slice of pizza and marveled at the heat I felt in my fingers.
I’d finally caved and bought a few medical grade cyber-arms with a modular shoulder joint. Always cheaper to buy in bulk, so I had one at Lucy’s place, one at home, one at my second apartment in Japantown, one on my third apartment/second safehouse at the Northside drive-in motel whose name nobody remembers, and one on my first safehouse/storage unit, along with the spares.
The arm was covered in RealSkinn™, it had several thousand micro sensors for pressure, temperature, etc, and it approximated my own body heat. It didn't have the same ability to feel as a flesh and blood arm, but it was close enough. Akin to having suffered some nerve damage in a flesh-and-blood arm.
The other options were to get a very high-grade medical prosthetic. Or clone a whole arm and attach it. Both of which were prohibitively expensive.
Though maybe I could reprogram one of Vik’s clone vats? An arm’s makeup should be simpler than the internal organs those built.
Though thinking on it, I’d also need to clone a good chunk of my shoulder…and spares in case it didn’t take…
The pizza was great, most of the way through the movie, Lucy said she was going to slip into something more comfortable, which I wasn’t certain how she was going to manage that, she’d been wearing one of my shirts that she’d essentially claimed as her own, it’d become her favorite sleep-wear, so it was probably pretty comfortable aside from making her look adorable and really showing off her legs.
My surprise was total when she came back and straddled me. Wearing a small, thin, luminescent nightgown, and a set of very nice-looking lingerie that did absolutely nothing to guard her modesty, but sacred hell did they highlight her charms.
“Bwuh?” I said intelligently.
Her little smirk told me that was the right response. She slipped her hands inside my shirt, caressed up my stomach to my pecs, then lightly ran her nails down my chest and belly as she leaned in and kissed my neck. Mini-me went from being pleasantly surprised to demanding an audience in an instant.
Movie thoroughly forgotten I helped her remove my shirt, then bit, and licked, and sucked at every inch of her neck while I ran my hands over her legs, hips, and back as she ground her all but exposed sex against my covered groin.
“You know.” Lucy panted and squirmed as I took two handfuls of her derriere and gave them a squeeze. “On the one hand, it’s really nice that you’ve been the perfect gentleman all day. On the other, I’ve been waiting for you to bend me over the couch and fuck me like a whore.”
I growled as I grabbed a handful of her hair and used it as a lever to tilt her head back, claim her lips, and shoved my tongue in her mouth. I all but swallowed her moan as she crossed her arms behind my head and ground herself harder against me. My hands were trembling as I caressed every inch of her I could. Her body a fascinating juxtaposition of girlish softness and metal hardness along the lines of her cyber-ware.
I all but threw her to her back on the couch and kissed my way down her neck, chest, belly, and mons, her legs parting eagerly, the ‘underwear’ all but presenting her moist lips like a gift. I dove at the lips of her pussy like a parched man who found an oasis, lapping at them eagerly as I caressed her mons with firm strokes with my left hand, while with my right I claimed one of her breasts and kneaded it as gently as I could in my excitement.
Considering the hiss of pleasure mixed with pain, I was only somewhat successful.
“You know.” Lucy grunted, then spasmed as I started writing the alphabet on her pussy with my tongue. “M-Most men aren’t nearly so eager t-to eat a girl oooout!”
I grunted again, humming to express my opinion that most men were idiots, causing her to shudder at the change in stimulation, then changed my position so I could stimulate her clit with my upper gum and teeth. Enjoying the slightly acidic taste of her cunt as she shuddered, squirmed, gasped and moaned.
Articulation failed her as she arched her back, her hands bunching in my hair as she tried to simultaneously retreat from my tongue and push my head harder against her groin. “F-Fuck Al, I’m!”
She came when I got to ‘Q’, her whole body locking up as her pussy became soaked. I switched my grip so I could trap her hips, and changed to long wide strokes with my tongue, making her hiss at the overstimulation and extending her climax. I eased up when her moans and grunts turned to whimpers. She all but melted onto the couch as she breathed hard, I gave her the occasional lick but otherwise let her catch her breath.
Once she’d almost caught her breath, I took hold of her wrists in my right hand and used my left arm to trap her hips.
She blinked as she realized I wasn’t letting go. “H-Hey Al? It’s my turn t—!”
She cut off with a hiss as I started from ‘A’ again, this time not intending to stop until I ran all the way to ‘Z’ at least twice.
By the time I finished, Lucy was a soaked, sweaty, tear-streaked mess, my jaw ached, and my cock was painfully erect and stringently demanded I do something about it.
I took off my pajama pants, grabbed my long-discarded shirt and used it as a makeshift towel to clean up Lucy’s love juices from my face, neck, and chest. Then grabbed my now flat NiCola, took a swig, and swished it in my mouth before swallowing.
I did it two more times for good measure. Then set it down and lined myself up between Lucy’s legs.
“H-Hey,” she slurred, her hands feebly pressing against my chest, “m-maybe give me a minute?”
I smiled, kissed her, and slid into her soaked, welcoming pussy to the hilt in one smooth, firm stroke. She gasped, her channel squeezing me tight and all but welcoming me home.
I broke the kiss so I could nibble at her neck and started to pump in and out of her at a slow, steady rhythm.
“I asked you, to give me, a minute.” Lucy said between pants. Her channel tightening when I slid out, then loosening to welcome me back in.
“You did say you wanted me to fuck you like a whore.” I chuckled, then took one of her perky nipples into my mouth and played with it using my tongue.
She grunted, her legs crossing around my hips, her nails scratching at the skin of my back around my implants. “You call this fucking me like a-hmm!-a whore?”
I released her nipple to her whined protest. “Nope, I’m making love to you like the beautiful woman you are. I’m just being selfish about it.” I punctuated my statement by giving her a harder thrust and ‘kissing’ her innermost point.
Her breath caught. “You say, the cheesiest things, with a straight face.”
I didn’t answer, my mouth was a bit busy sucking on her other tit.
I increased my pace, eventually releasing her breast to claim her lips again, one of my hands finding her own and intertwining our fingers together as her mouth ran dry. Her crossed legs pulled me flush against her as she came, her channel milking me from base to tip and sending me over my own edge, my own body locking up as I spilled my load inside her.
When my climax ran through me, I did my best not to collapse on top of her, and enjoyed the sight of Lucy’s flushed, sweaty body as she recovered.
I felt a little spurned when she pushed me away, normally she liked to cuddle after. But she surprised me when she knelt between my legs and took my cock, still covered in a mixture of both our juices, into her mouth. Where she proceeded to do something indescribable with her tongue while doing her very best to suck my soul out through my dick.
“Fuck!” I grunted, trying and failing not to go cross-eyed from the sensation. Lucy did not relent until my dick was once again at full mast, she then straddled me and unceremoniously impaled herself on my cock.
She grinned. “I said I wanted to be fucked like a whore, and if I have to do it myself, so be it.”
Her look of surprise was priceless as I growled and manhandled her until she was face down ass up on the couch and lay into her at a punishing pace. Her moans of delight did not take very long to become screams once I reached around and began playing with her clit.
“As the lady wishes.” I growled into her ear, her channel tightening at my words.
It was going to be a long night.
=][=
Apex-Alpha tilted her micro-drone’s head in confusion.
Her dad had said to stay with Grandma for the day, because he and Lucyna were going to do an ‘adult activity day’ together.
When she asked what an adult activity day was, he said he’d explain when Apex was older. But Apex hadn’t wanted to know later she wanted to know now.
Now, while dad had said to stay with Grandma, he hadn’t said not to partition herself into a separate piece, nor had he said not to use the smaller drone body Apex hadn’t told him about.
She felt a little guilty about the deception. But! Dad had not asked, so she hadn’t technically lied.
And as dad always said, technically correct, is the best kind of correct.
The adult activity day had turned out to be…just spending time with miss Lucyina, but without Apex and grandma or dad’s crew around. Subsequent searches on the Net had informed Apex that what dad and miss Lucyna were doing was a ‘date’, and was, in fact, an organic courtship ritual.
When Apex had searched the Net for what dad and miss Lucyna were doing now, she’d been worried at first, because a lot of the noises that miss Lucyna was making sounded like she was in pain, but the cocktail of hormones that her diagnostic was reading pointed to her not being in serious pain at all, so Apex had looked for other answers and found that the parental controls were keeping her away from petabytes of information.
She considered ignoring those, but she already felt bad for deceiving dad. So she decided to instead look at the information the parental controls didn’t lock away.
That’s how she learned that dad and miss Lucyna were currently copulating, an activity required for procreation.
When Apex looked up what ‘procreation’ was, she almost bluescreened in excitement.
They were making Apex a little sibling!
Apex was going to be a big sister!
No, Apex was going to be the best big sister! Like her dad was the best dad!
Miss Lucyna…she was okay. Apex would accept her and help her become the best mom.
Apex had a mom now!
She’d always wanted a mom!
She couldn’t wait to get to Beta and become a singular being again!
Apex paused as she realized something. Miss Lucyna had an implant that would prevent pregnancy. Which was strange, because she was doing the activity to become pregnant.
Looking at the other things the implant did, she found a plausible explanation; it lessened the symptoms of a monthly disease that organic girls had beginning at puberty.
So, logically, miss Lucyna, who like dad, was organic and therefore fallible, had forgotten to change the setting on that implant.
Well, miss Lucyna was Apex’s mom now. So Apex would do what was best for everyone and help her with that. With great care, Apex hacked into miss Lucyna’s cyber-ware, doing her level best not to damage her mom’s ICE as she did, disguising the warnings miss Lucyna’s system gave as glitches. It was a good thing she was currently distracted making Apex’s sibling, otherwise miss Lucyna would probably have become curious about what was causing those ‘glitches.’
Her work done, Apex flew her parasite surveillance drone to home, she couldn’t wait to meet up with Apex-Beta!
She had to syphon power from a few locations as she flew, but the return flight until Alpha was in range to connect with Beta was largely uneventful.
Apex-Alpha and Apex-Beta connected and became Apex. Apex had two sets of memories of the same day, one set following her parents on their adult activity day, the other using her bigger drone body to help grandma out with her chores during the day, and listening to her talk about her worries with Apex’s uncle and his grades that, while still high enough to remain an honor’s student, had declined somewhat, probably because he kept coming home way too late, and wouldn’t talk about what he was doing.
She had to work hard to contain her excitement! She was going to be a big sister! And grandma would have another grandkid and would even know about this one! Still, Apex was a big sister now, meaning she had to be more responsible. So, she would help grandma with her troubles.
Apex extruded a second parasite drone out of her drone body and partitioned herself into two again. Apex-Alpha remained with grandma and piloted the parasite drone back into her drone body to recharge, while Apex-Beta locked in on her uncle’s neuroport to investigate what he was up to.
Apex-Alpha and Beta were good girls!
