A Gulliver's Travel

Terri Marx walked on auto-pilot as she shuffled down her apartment building's carpeted corridors. Despite the significant rent she paid each month for a loft that had its own port for her car, it never seemed to be working. In fact it had never worked for more than two days in a row the whole two years she had lived there. Threatening to take her apartment lord to court granted her what would be an expensive loft out of her price range to just barely below it; this fact still did not make her distant parking space and long walk seem as anything other than the fault of a cheap lord.

One hundred floors on an elevator and a quick turn to the right later, Terri arrived home. Pressing her thumb to a sensor pad in the middle of the door to apartment 10079A, she soon heard the metallic clanks of the releasing dead bolts and the deactivation of a sensor net. Very much the opposite of the illuminator in a Cool-Air machine, she never saw the net on as she opened the door and, if going by appearances alone, could assume it never activated just as she could assume the the illuminator never turned off.

Kicking her heeled shoes off her feet to a nearby disguised air intake vent, she quickly walked the ten yards past her middle class modernly decorated and furnished apartment to her bedroom and immediately stripped herself of her clothes. Her rank within her temp agency's middle management pressured her to dress for the part; one requirement being an old fashioned mini skirt and even more out dated panty hose which she had to special order from a company that had been making them since 2014 and had somehow managed to stay in business. Relieving herself of her bottom restraints, she was left with simply the power suit of the modern woman. First removing her cell, PDA, pager, auxiliary stylus, and self defense stunner from their appropriate charging locations within her jacket, she slid out of it and the white undershirt with built in bra.

Terri took her skirt and shirt, placed them within the hamper machine, closed the lid, and bent over to press the largest button on its display. It ran so quietly as it washed and dried her clothes that she made note cards to remind her she even used it. Yawning greatly and with her arms reaching into the air, Terri noticed herself in the mirror and immediately changed her demeanor from tired to frisky as she stared at her body.

No humans were legally genetically engineered but sometimes Terri wondered if her parents had broken that law. Of course only the very poorest women would get pregnant without first going thru the DNA screening to pick out the best sperm for the best egg. At nearly two and a quarter meters she was a bit taller than most women she knew. Her breasts were proportional to her body as they were over 80 centimeters; she vaguely recalled someone telling her that, 200 years ago, they would be size '38 double D.' or some such nonsense. "What an archaic system," she thought to herself as she placed her left hand upon her hip, turned to her left side, jutted her hips forward, and squeezed her shoulder blades together to stick her chest out.

"82 centimeters sounds way more impressive," she said to herself with wicked pouty lips.

Aside from her height, she was by no means a big woman. Though she did not purposely make it so, her thighs never rubbed against one another nor did her skin ever sag or jiggle. While her waist and legs were thin, her hair was anything but. It was a bit curly and nearly jet black calling to her mixed black and Asian backgrounds but her western European stock diluted her skin color to little more than a Greek's. She did however retain the large lips and fatty eye lids of the two races respectively.

Her ears perked up as clanks and shudders from the door told Terri of an arrival. Without any inhibition, she walked out of her bedroom and gazed lovingly at the man at the door poring over colorful envelopes. He was not as tall as Terri but he had more muscle. That is not to say she was tall and skinny and he short and bulging but rather something in between the extremes for each of them. Though he was extreme in one regard; he was the only person Terri knew who was full blooded anything.

"Happy birthday, Terri..." he trailed off mockingly as he continued looking over the envelopes.

"Huh?"

"These envelopes..." he looked at her as he raised them with one hand and replaced his thick framed glasses on his face with the other "...are all addressed to you. I assume they're wishing you a happy birthday. That's all anyone ever sends mail for anymore." He deliberately did not stare deeply of her nudity for he believed her simply to be playing a game with him which he did not intend to let her win. Or was losing it the way for him to win? With her he was not sure anymore but he still thought it best to let his mind smile instead of his prick.

"There must be a mistake," she said as she shrugged her bare shoulders. "My birthday was two months ago. Remember? We went to Cancun for the day."

"Oh I remember all right..." he said and remembered with his cock. "I was just wondering if we had checked the snail mail since that time."

"Whoops!" Terry shouted then laughed uproariously as her breasts, and only her breasts, jiggled. To that he could finally smile and drop the mail onto a table in the Foodprep area. He impatiently walked to the naked Terri. She arched her back slightly forward and lowered her neck as she received a hungry kiss. Their arms wrapped around each other and held tightly until they had difficulty breathing. A few moments later they stopped and the man, walking past her to go into the bedroom, gave Terri with the back of his hand a gentle spank on her butt before he undid the paisley plumage knotted at his collar. That accomplished, he removed his power suit and pants.

"So wah er we gunna do too-nide Bart?" she asked as she yawned.

"What?"

"What are we gonna do tonight?" she repeated this time coherently.

"Don't tell me you don't remember what today is?" His voice sounded stifled and Terri, still standing near the main room gazing at the front door, assumed he entered his private bathroom.

"No, I guess I don't!" she shouted to compensate for the wall barrier.

"It's leap month tomorrow! We can go down to Montpelier tonight to shop at North American Underground and sleep in all day tomorrow!" He too was clearly shouting yet she could barely hear him. Perhaps to mock his Quebecois heritage, he pronounced the city as "mon-pel-ee-eh" as if he knew a lick of the language his people gave up by his grandparents' generation.

Terri furrowed her brow and counted the days in her head. Yes. He was right. Nearly one-hundred years earlier when an asteroid on course to hit the Earth was diverted by a salvo of the world's Inter-Cosmos Ballistic Missiles, it hugged the planet. After a year passed, some egg heads realized the Earth's revolution now took longer. Conveniently it was roughly four days longer. Since then, April, June, September, and November had thirty-one days instead of thirty. The Social Democrats had, for a large part at least, won the last elections by promising to make those days bank holidays. Whether this would keep them in Columbia come the next North American Union elections would be uncertain.

She smiled to herself as she thought of another wonderful day of making love with the Edmonton Sun shining down on her and Bart. Assuming his silence meant he was showering in preparation for their trip to the old Yankee-land, Terri retired to her private bathroom where she turned on the water for her tub and squirted bubble bath into its flow. As she patiently sat atop her cold Whirlpool surface, her mind thought of the evening, and morning, and afternoon, and evening again she and Bart were soon going to have.

An idea struck Terri and she turned off the water leaving the tub shallow even with the bubbles. She stood and reached into her vanity for a twelve centimeter bright orange plastic phallus. Looking at the flat bottom of the object, she read its proclamation of water resistance and then stepped into the large tub. With her back against the wall of the niche the tub rested in, she slowly lowered herself feet first into the shallow pool of warm water. Her long black hair dipped into the water as she sighed deeply and rested her head against the stiff plastic tub.

Terri knew she had some time since Bart took longer showers than was recommended by the Environmental Council (since showers were not recommended at all of course) so she closed her eyes and began to caress the bottoms of her ample breasts which peaked over the soap bubbles like the Grand Tetons on a foggy day. With each pass her hands rubbed harder and popped bubbles along the way. Sighing deeply once again, she began using her other arm and caress the other breast but started with the same treatment she was giving her other one. She loved having her breasts fondled. Occasionally Bart would indulge her with intensive breast foreplay and a little rubbing during love making but this did not remotely satisfy her. That was not to say she did not appreciate Bart; quite the opposite. In the five years they lived together under the SNC (State Notice of Cohabitation) he never once refused to go down on her. Period or no he would stay between her thighs until one of three things happened: She told him to stop, his jaw locked shut and his fingers cramped completely, or he had to go to work. Though Bart's hands were poorly conducted on her breasts, his tongue needed no direction but her shouts of pleasure.

Without realizing it, Terri had taken her right hand to her sex and was already rubbing it gently with her forefinger. Continuing for several minutes, she deemed herself wet enough on the inside and produced her hot pink phallus. She turned it on and gently led it down her stomach to her seeping crotch. She had often masturbated in front of mirrors so she knew exactly what it would look like from the removable faucet head's perspective.

Her tan but still quite pink outer labia were large and welcoming like a smiling face. Terri first ran the tip of her humming wonder against the lips individually before repeating it with more force all the while quietly moaning. Finding she had slid farther down the tub, she briefly stopped and grasped the sides and pulled herself to her original posture. As she looked by her knees, she noticed a white fluid not of water or soap. Determining it to be her own juices, she smiled at her abundance and continued on but this time she slid the device between her labia and parted them with a sticky, slurpy noise the closer she came to her aching hole. Continuing to rub herself in that fashion, she fondled her left breast with her left hand and her moans deepened.

Arching her body upwards as she quickened her pace and breathing, she at last penetrated deep into her cunt. At that point the vibrator slipped into her with no effort at all as she thrust it with quick action but stopped the moment she felt an orgasm near.

More violently than Terri inserted the vibrator, she removed it from her cunt, her other hand from her breast, and raised them both into the air as if to put the most distance between them and her erogenous zones. Breathing heavily, she lowered her butt down but quickly raised it once again when she discovered the warm water pleased her pussy too much and nearly sent her into orgasm. She was determined not to come before she and Bart returned that very night.

Terri lowered the pussy juice coated vibrator to her mouth licked it as if it were the most sensual ice cream cone before she devoured it whole like she was deep throating an orange popsicle. Having cleaned it of everything, she cautiously reached for her sensitive pussy and delicately scooped fingers full of her juice and smeared it atop her tongue; she did not swallow until she scooped it all and by the time she determined she had, her mouth watered so much from the taste of her own fluids she had to take it all in two comfortable swallows for fear of choking with just one.

Before she met Bart, in college seven years previous, she was disgusted at the thought of drinking her own pussy juice. To her then it was comparable to drinking your own piss or eating your ear wax. But when kissing Bart after he had pleasured her with his tongue for seemingly hours at a time it became an occupational hazard; she took it as a more than fair trade off. Years of it however had made her permanently associate her own smell with infinite pleasure and the man she loved more than anyone.

Terri shook her head to come out of her blissful daze. She reached for the faucet once again but this time for a water depth high enough to actually bathe in. When the warm jet of water struck her, she nearly slammed her head against the tub! The warm and powerful water was striking her pussy quite on accident. As often happened to her when she manually masturbated and told herself she would stop before she came, when the moment did arrive, she would ignore her vow and cum anyway. This was just such a time. Grasping the sides of her tub, she sputtered her breathing as if hyper ventilating and she brought her sex closer to the pleasurable spigot until her nose blew bubbles into the rising water and her sweating body flew skywards in glorious orgasm.

Terry raised her head just above the steadily rising water until it nearly overflowed onto the floor. She absent mindedly turned the water off and quickly resumed a content stare at the wall. A polite knock came from her bathroom's door. "Um..." the voice was muffled "...I heard you scream. Are you okay?" Strange, she did not remember screaming loud enough for anyone to hear.

"I'm..." she breathed deeply with relief "....fine...."

"Well...I'm getting dressed now. Finish up. I'll wait for you in the den."

Pulled from her bliss, Terri figured she may as well bathe herself. Twenty minutes later she was finished and had quickly slapped on some pants and a T-shirt without a built in bra. Just like Bart, Terri only dressed up and used her Azazello paints when it was appropriate in social or work situations. Visiting their favorite sex store hardly qualified and by the dressed down looks of her S.O. on their couch, he felt the same.

As it was a Friday early evening, Bart and Terri waited at the bank of elevators for one to eventually reach them near the top. The elevators were built with certain express cars that brought passengers a single specific floor and a bank of secondary elevators that could take them to their chosen floor. This was by far the most efficient method developed to date but still time ached by despite the convenience of car-ports as Terry and Bart waited. There stood a couple who loved each other to the point of idolatry, who were gently and closely leaning against each other but none the less separated by an abyss. Bart and Terri knew this not to be a bad thing in itself or a reason to end their cohabitation but they could not help but feel what was disappearing between them. Together they had argued everything they believed in, their likes and dislikes made known, and told each other all the good (and bad) stories in their lives that they had not made together as a couple.

Upon leaving the apartment building, they walked hand in hand to Terri's vehicle parked several blocks away. The most expedient way to get there however involved passing through the closest thing to a slum near their middle class ritzy apartment. Because of the Social Democrats, this block of hospitals went from patient services to nationally funded human research hospitals and so a number of bums who had slipped through the cracks of the socialists' platform volunteered and created huge waiting lines. One such line had, as near as Bart could figure, an optometrist checking lenses and eye sight.

"Probably some new eye surgery. I wish them luck," he said quietly as he straightened his glasses with his free hand. Centuries already since they developed a successful corrective surgery and they still had not found a commercially safe one. With each new method, the time it took for blindness to occur in an eighth of the people who had it performed got longer and longer. Unfortunately this continuously longer period made collecting usable data a decades long process. The latest surgery seemed promising and was at fractions of one percent overall for surgery induced blindness in the last fifteen years but that did not mean the eye doctors could simply sit on their hands and wait fifty more years for the results.

Friday night traffic was horrendous. Despite that they were leaving Edmonton instead of entering from places like Billings, Winnipeg, or Anchorage, it took them an hour to even reach the St. Lawrence. After that it was no time at all until they got to Vermont and landed their car just outside North American Underground. It was a small shop of right angles and it always struck Terri that such a small structure, capable to hold many architectural intricacies for a low price unlike her apartment building, should resemble a shoe box. They exited the car and Terri did not consider the shape of the store any further as Bart wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled. She did not return the same smile but instead gave a hungry one of her own. Soon it was going to be play time.

Terri and Bart walked into the store together. Neither one of them had ever been comfortable going to a sex shop by themselves so they made an effort to show they were a couple shopping for each other. They realized this was silly because aside from a man or two, there was nothing but couples shopping hand in hand and discussing products with a slight whisper.

In the center of the store stood the check out and its three sitting clerks eyeing customers at the more expensive merchandise. Couples carried their data-mods to preview the latest pornographic videos that the Net was not allowed to legally carry while others explored the erotic clothing for men, women, men dressing as women, and women dressing as men. Bart was quite familiar with this section but he and Terri wished for an object in the equipment section instead. They proceeded down the appropriate aisle and bathed in the smell of leather and the various plastics used in vaginal and anal phalluses. Terri licked her lips uncomfortably to remove the coppery taste from the fasteners and snaps the air left her with. They quickly came to a plain nearly empty shelf with simply pieces of paper that read "GG" that were in a disorganized pile between the ejaculating dildos and sensitizer creams. Terri grabbed one sheet and they double backed to a clerk and handed her the slip. She asked for their I.D.s which they provided. She made a reluctant sigh and gave a quick look to the couple before she stood from her stool and entered a curtained back room leaving the couple to entertain themselves in the meantime.

Bart stuck his hands into his pockets and Terri warmly wrapped her arms into his like hooks and rested her head upon his shoulder. The creaking of the entrance turned their eyes to another couple entering the sex shop but their appearance turned their whole heads. They wore real leather jackets with tight leather pants and high heeled combat boots but quite naturally hers were six centimeters as his two at the most. They looked clean with neatly trimmed hair but only Terri noticed their wedding bands (a rare sight) and manicures. This in itself was not unusual however; the woman supported almost comically large breasts well past 100 centimeters and spilling out. The man too sported large anatomy with his prick bulging from the tight pants and looked 16 centimeters soft. Unlike the wedding bands, Terri and Bart both noticed this and looked discreetly at each other as soon as the couple was out of ear shot.