A Report from Mid-Century

For the ladies, there is a massive and flourishing market for "Romance" virtual stories. For the newer model couches that come with the body suit, women are finally getting expensive equality in virtual reality, and some wealthy women actually spend more time in VR than men. They just don't have to clean up afterwards.

So men and women work together and still interact constantly, and still have and raise kids, but "sexual harassment" is becoming an archaic term, along with most non-virtual sex. Even the "world's oldest profession" is becoming extinct. We are becoming more like symbiotes than a single species.

It is bed time, so I slip on the goggles and lay back on the couch to let the magic begin. I briefly consider calling up my pixie-angel, again, but decide against it. I feel the rush of anticipation, wondering who will be my partner tonight.

She is tall, with long, straight, black hair, olive skin, large breasts, and voluptuous smooth curves everywhere. She looks vaguely Mediterranean. She is wearing a simple loose shift with wide straps across her shoulders. She smiles at me. We are on the edge of a beach, at sunset, with waves lapping gently nearby and the softness of grass and a blanket under me. She wanders up beside where I lie, and I stroke my hand up the smooth, soft skin of her calf and on up her thigh, under her dress. I watch her breasts move freely under the shift. She smiles again, lovingly, and unbuttons one of the shoulder straps.

Under her skirt I feel the taught smoothness of her panties. I run fingertips around the elastic band around the top of her thigh. She closes her eyes as I stroke the backs of my fingers across the panty crotch, petting the pussy hidden within. She purrs, and opens her legs slightly for me. I drag my fingertips down the inside of one thigh, and then my fingernails back up to where I can just stroke her sex again. She shudders lightly.

She unbuttons the other shoulder strap and the shift slides down her body and drapes over my arm. The warm orange of the sunset light bathes her body and sets the smooth curves of her torso in sharp relief. She is not wearing a bra. Her breasts are large and slightly pendulous. I could, and will, wrap them around my face and my cock before this is over. I hook a fingertip in the elastic of her panties and start pulling one side down. She leers at me happily, then hooks both sides with her thumbs and slowly pushes them down her thighs. Her pubic hair is dense and black, a flat diamond of curly softness, but her lips are hairless and swollen in anticipation. Her inner lips, wrinkled and folded after being enclosed in her panties, now extend beyond her outer lips, inviting my touch. I take her panties and pull them the rest of the way down her calves as she steps out of panties and shift.

I am already reasonably hard. She squats over me and with no foreplay, presses my head against her opening and slides her vagina down over my shaft. When I am fully impaled, she rocks gently, working me around inside her. She slides up and down, once, twice. She slides up and off, catching my now hard and wet cock with her hand.

"I like to taste myself." She says simply as she swings around, straddling my face with her pussy and taking my head into her mouth. I feel her hand wrap around the lower part of my shaft as the top half slides into the hot depths of her mouth. I feel my head penetrate her throat, and she does not gag. I bury my face deep into her sex, inhaling her pheromones, feeling her heat, wrapping my mouth around her nether lips and sucking them into my mouth, as my tongue tries to work its way between her lips to find her clit and opening. Her pussy and thighs engulf my face just as thoroughly as her mouth engulfs my cock. Tonight, I decide, I want extended foreplay, but with interspersed fucking. I am already mentally incoherent, and surrender all control to the senses.

Welcome to the future.