Arena Ch. 01

In a vid two people can pretend to love one another, or be afraid of the big scary monster, and if they're good actors, people won't be able to tell the difference. An immersion isn't like that. All the biochemical reactions of two people in love, the increased heart rate, the dilation of the eye's pupils, the release of dopamine, all these physical changes are picked up by the chip, recorded, and played back in the immersion. Without these involuntary reactions, the immersion falls flat and becomes a false world. You can pretend to be afraid, but if you know that the big scary monster is just Bob in a rubber suit, no amount of pretending on your part is going to convenience someone in an immersion you're actually afraid.

"I have a good feeling about Sierra, though. There is something that comes through over the ping that makes me think that if she's willing to do it, she's our girl," Charlie says perking up a little.

"I guess we'll just have to convince her then, won't we?"

"I guess we will," she agrees, and then smiles.

Rick checks the time. "It's four-thirty. I'm going to call it a day. Why don't you and Todd check out early? We can worry about this place in the morning," he suggests as he stands to go.

"I think that's a great idea," she replies, rising as well. "I might even let Todd drive home."

"That's generous of you," he chuckles, moving to the door. "The only time Giselle lets me drive her Audi is when it needs fuel."

"I'd say you aren't treating her right, but I know that isn't true," she says, her tone full of teasing mischief.

A year ago he would have blushed at such a statement, but after sharing their immersion with Todd and Charlie, he's found her teasing doesn't embarrass him so much anymore. He chuckles again, waving his hand in goodbye as he walks out the door.

Rick's surprised to see Giselle's Audi sitting in its customary spot as the garage door slowly rises. She shouldn't be home for at least another fifteen minutes. As he pulls the Ford into the second stall, he sees the Aston sitting in the third, confirming that she is, indeed, home early.

When he enters the house he looks first in the kitchen and then family room for her. Not finding her there, he's about to move to the back of house to look in their bedroom when he notices a large sun umbrella is up in the backyard by the pool. Closer inspection shows a pair of feet sticking out beyond the edge of the umbrella. He walks into back yard to find her, casually dressed in slacks and loose blouse, sitting in the chaise and reading.

"Home early," he says as he bends down for a kiss.

"Yes." She returns the kiss, but it's cool and reserved.

He notices the change from her normal demeanor. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," she responds again, turning her attention back to the book.

No one will ever accuse Giselle of being a chatter-box, but her monosyllabic responses are out of character for her. He drags a chair around so he can see her and then sits down to watch her read.

"Don't you have something to do?" she asks without looking up from her book after several minutes.

"I'm doing it," he says, his voice flat and matter of fact.

She ignores him for several minutes more, but finally sighs and, with a quick twist of her wrists, collapses her reader back into its travel form. "What?" she asks with just a hint of exasperation.

"I'm just waiting until you're ready to talk about what's bothering you."

Up until recently it was him that internalized everything and it was Giselle who'd have to pry him open to talk.

"I told you nothing's bothering me," she says firmly, but he continues to watch her impassively, saying nothing. Finally, her resolve crumbles. "I had a nice chat with the partners today," she says, her weariness clear in her tone.

Giselle works at a medium-sized law firm that specializes in contract law, though they handle other work as well. She's wanted to get out of the big firm rat race for a while, perhaps hang out her own shingle, but she's been sticking it out. At first it was because, although Rick's wealthy on paper, he had no significant income of his own, and they lived on her salary. Now, with the success of Immersion Playground, they can afford for her to quit, but she thinks she's up to make partner and is waiting to see how that plays out.

"About the immersion?"

She nods. "I've been waiting for it to come up."

"Did they fire you?" he asks. He doesn't care if they fired her or not, but he knows she'll take it hard.

"No. They can't fire me. I haven't done anything they can fire me for. Just a bunch of bloviating about how 'I reflect poorly on the firm' and 'What will our clients think?'"

"I hope you told them to kiss your ass as you walked out the door," he snarls.

He'd gone through something similar not long after they released their immersion to the public. By the time the meeting was over, he'd offered to sell his one-quarter share in Feedback Alive to the other three partners and walk away. Since he's their chief software architect, and had nearly single-handedly created the immersion software that they're betting the company on, they'd declined. Now, five months on, and with Feedback Alive finally poised to begin generating some serious income, he feels vindicated. He's received a half-hearted apology from two of the partners, a heartfelt one from the third, things have mostly gotten back to normal, and the immersion hasn't been mentioned again.

"No, I didn't. I'm not going to make it that easy on them. I was so pissed off that I left early today, but I'll be back tomorrow with my head high." He lets her vent, knowing once she gets it out of her system she'll feel better. "We talked about this, and now it's time for me to walk the talk. I don't care what those bastards say, our immersion isn't a 'dirty movie,'" she states firmly. "It's common knowledge that Hittle is having an affair, and he's the one giving me the biggest load of shit about it, too. He's probably using it to get it up before he bangs Ms. Plastic Tits."

"I have an idea. Why don't I take you to lunch tomorrow? Really give them something to talk about?"

She considers for a moment. "That would be lovely. I can't remember when you last took me to lunch, can you?"

"Before we were married, I think. It's been at least a couple of years." As he thinks about it he becomes annoyed, wondering why it's been so long.

"Let's do have lunch." An evil look crosses her face. "I'd like that, and getting a chance to rub it in their face just makes it that much better. I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. After reading some of the comments about our immersion, I'm more convinced than ever it was the right thing to do. So fuck 'em!"

Rick eyebrows go up a little. She rarely throws the f-bomb, and he can't recall ever hearing her use it like that.

She sees the look on his face and giggles a little. "Sorry, but they really pissed me off."

"I guess they did," he says, his voice flat in teasing. "If it gets to the point you can't take it anymore, there's an office at Immersion Playground that's getting dusty. You're already our de facto corporate lawyer. We might as well put you on the payroll."

"If we had this conversation before this came up I might be tempted, but now, hell no. Not for a while, anyway. I suspect that tomorrow everyone, and I mean everyone, in the office will have experienced our immersion. If I leave now it'll be like I'm admitting that I did something wrong or inappropriate. Well, I haven't, and I won't be bullied into acting like I have," she smolders.

He waits to see if she has anything to add, and when it appears she doesn't, he moves to sit on the chaise and leans in to kiss her. "No you haven't. We've done a good thing here, something I'm proud of. You should be too." He kisses her again. She's still a bit frosty, but beginning to thaw. "Personally, I think anyone that poo-poo's our immersion is just jealous."

She takes a deep breath, letting the anger go. "Yeah, you're probably right. I suspect that some at the firm have already experienced it. It just wasn't out in the open until now. It's like Hittle's philandering. Everyone knows about it, but nobody talks about it. Anyway, now it's out there, I guess I'll find out who my true friends are," she says, her voice moving from flinty and hard to soft and pensive.

"Yes you will. And it may surprise you, but always remember, you don't have to stay. You can walk anytime you like. If a couple of your clients follow you, you'll probably be making as much as you are now since you won't have to share with the firm. You've been working for Immersion Playground pro bono, and that isn't necessary anymore either."

This time it's Giselle that leans in for the kiss. "I know, Rick, but I'm not going anywhere until you take me to lunch," she says, smiling weakly at her own joke.

"Lunch tomorrow it is, then," he agrees with a big smile, offering his hand to her. She takes it and he pulls her lightly to her feet. "Do you want to go out, or shall I fix us something?"

"Let's eat in. I'll help, though. Something light. I don't have much of an appetite tonight."

Whether it's the mundane task of meal preparation or Rick's little touches, Giselle's mood steadily improves as they work together in the kitchen. Less than an hour later they're enjoying a meal of poached eggs served over spinach and walnuts, with squash on the side. He'd chosen the meal, selecting a new recipe off the net as he stared into the refrigerator and pantry while comparing the ingredients they had on hand to ingredients in recipes. She's pleased by his thoughtfulness. Rick's a typical man, a carnivore at heart, but she knows he intentionally selected a meatless meal in deference to her preference for vegetables over meat. By the time they're done eating, she's forgotten all the aggravations of the office and is looking forward to an evening of cuddling.

After the meal he shoos her out of the kitchen while he cleans up. Normally they clean together, just as they cook together, but tonight he takes the chore alone. As he putters about in the kitchen, she hears the zapper start, and a few minutes later he appears with a blueberry scone on a saucer, along with a cup of tea.

"Thank you," she says, accepting the tea, placing the cup and saucer on the table beside her favorite chair. "You must want something tonight," she added, her lips twisting with suppressed mischief.

"Nothing I don't want every night," he says, settling onto the couch.

As has become his habit, he checks the Immersion Playground storefront. Sales are still strong but definitely trending down. No surprise there. If sales had continued at the torrid pace they set when Immersion Playground first broke big, every person in America would own a copy inside of five years.

After checking the sales, he accesses the comments mailbox to read the mail. Most need no response, the rest he responds to using an auto reply, save for one. Immersion Playground usually gets one or two mails a week that touch him, and those he responds to personally. Normally written by women, women who pour their hearts out about their experience with the immersion, their letters reinforce his belief they've done the right thing. Some are funny but most are simply heart-wrenching. This is another one of those, the heartbreaking story of a thirty-year-old woman who'd been stuck in an abusive relationship, and how the immersion has given her the strength to leave her abusive spouse and to begin again.

He carefully composes the reply, reviews it several times, then sends it out. He used to have Giselle read the letters and his replies, but as he's gotten better at writing them, he asks her to review them less and less, though he always lets her know when Immersion Playground receives one of the letters that touches him.

"Here's another letter. You want to read it?" he asks.

"Yes, I think I would tonight. It'll give me some fresh perspective if I have to kick some ass tomorrow," she replies after some thought.

Rick's surprised. It's been weeks since she wanted to read one of the heartbreaking notes, but he sends it to her without further comment. She zones out for a few seconds as she absorbs the letter and his response.

"You should write an advice column," she says with a smile. "I like how you put the responsibility of her leaving back on her. That was nice, giving her the little boost to her self-confidence."

"Oh God," he moans. "This is hard enough doing it once a week. I can't imagine having to do this every day, and having to dig through thousands of letters a day to do it? Maybe you get immune to it after a while. The letters don't affect me the way they used to, but damn... if Todd's right, and one comment speaks for thousands, there are so many unhappy people."

She moves from her chair and sits on the couch, curling up next to him. She knows from experience that if she doesn't come to him after he reads one of these touching comments, eventually he will come to her.

"But look at how many we've helped, just as Charlie predicted," she points out, snuggling in close and laying her head on his shoulder. "Not all of them are like that. Remember the comment from the woman in Spain?"

Rick thinks a moment and then chuckles. "I remember. She certainly had a way with words."

She smiles up at him. "She certainly did. I don't think I've laughed as hard since."

He grunts in agreement. They sit quietly for a time, lost in their own thoughts, content in each other's presence while he softly strokes her leg. "Your tea is getting cold," he points out.

"Let it. I'm nice and warm without it."

He shifts his weight slightly, causing her to look up from his shoulder. That's all the invitation he needs as he leans down to kiss her gently on the lips. His kisses starts out chaste and feather light, but as she responds it becomes deeper and more passionate.

She begins to warm as he gently kisses her, her tea forgotten. His willingness to let her unburden herself on him, his choice of dinner, cleaning up, the scone and tea, and now his tender and loving kisses, are pushing all thoughts, other than how much she wants him, aside. She rises off the couch and turns to face him before sitting in his lap, her knees either side of his thighs. Where they're going can end in only one place, and she's looking forward to the journey.

His penis begins to harden in anticipation as their kisses become ever more passionate. He wasn't sure earlier if she was going to be in the mood for intimacy, given her rough day, but she appears to be warming to the idea. He makes no demands, letting her set the pace, watching her eyes as she watches his. A lot is said, but no words are spoken. Finally she lowers her mouth to his, kissing him with renewed passion, holding his face in her hands as he begins to softly slide his hands over her back. After a moment she moves her hands to his shoulders and leans back into his grasp, offering him her neck and breasts.

She breaks off the kiss and tips her head back, giving him clear access to her neck. As he kisses her, she begins to rock her hips gently, enjoying the tingle it provides as she feels the bulge of his pant-shrouded penis on the inside of her thigh, until he adjusts himself. He then begins to rock his hips in time with hers, increasing the intensity of the sensations as he leans back on the couch, pulling her more upright as he moves.

He can't stand it anymore and slips his hand between Giselle's thighs to adjust himself. With a pull and tug, he relieves the pressure on his penis, the relief so great he almost sighs. Now that he isn't hurting anymore, he can focus more fully on pleasing her. He leans back, pulling her with him, until she's sitting erect again. Slowing removing his hands from her back, giving her time to hold herself upright, he begins slowly unbuttoning her blouse. When his hands are below her breasts he leans forward again, still working on the last few buttons, and begins to kiss the newly-exposed flesh.

As he leans forward to kiss her between her breasts, she grips the back of his head, both for support and to pull his lips more firmly to her. As he kisses her flesh, she inhales softly through her teeth as his warm lips and tongue touch her skin. His erotic kissing never stops as his practiced fingers finish unbuttoning her blouse, pushing the silky fabric aside and holding it open with his arms as his hands slide under the shirt to her back. With more of her skin exposed, skin he subjects to his soft warm kisses, his gently thrusting hips sends her desires soaring ever higher.

She doesn't lean into his hands as before, so he caresses her back, slowly sliding his hands across her skin with the lightest possible touch. This has the added benefit of holding her blouse slightly open, exposing more of her soft, warm flesh for him kiss. Her bra still covers the most sensitive parts of her breasts, but he'll get to that soon enough. It's early, and there's no need to rush.

His kisses and gentle thrusts drive her wild with desire. When she feels him beginning to remove her brassiere she pushes his head away, followed by his hands, preventing him from removing her undergarment. As much as she's enjoying his attentions, the position is bad. She needs so much more of his touch than sitting on his lap affords. She rises off him, takes his hand, and pulls him to his feet, saying nothing. With a seductive smile she takes two, then three steps backward, softly pulling on his hand, before turning and guiding him slowly along behind her to their bedroom.

At forty-five, Giselle is slipping gracefully into early middle age. Being an avid tennis player keeps her athletic and fit, allowing her to move with grace and power that belies her years. Her copper colored hair is devoid of grey, and though not as fully figured as some women, she still draws admiring looks when entering a room. Her single concession to her age is her need for reading glasses, which in Rick's opinion, only enhance her appearance further.

She is the first, and only, woman he's fallen for, and he's fallen hard. After a year of dating, he proposed to her nearly four years ago on a secluded beach. At the time he was working hard to develop immersion technology, and recorded the proposal on the first working prototype of the immersion recorder. He'd invited her on the private getaway with the excuse that he wanted to field test the prototype, which he did, though she was unaware the real reason for the romantic location and picnic was not for the test, but for him to propose to her.

During the walk on the beach, while he screwed up his courage and gave the hotel time to prepare the picnic on the beach, he'd forgotten that the recorder was in place and would record all their senses, and unexpectedly, their emotions, once they walked back into range. After she'd accepted his hand in marriage, they'd made passionate love on the beach under the stars. It wasn't until later that he realized the recorder had captured the entire affair, the picnic, the proposal, and the lovemaking. He was mortified and wanted to delete the immersion, but she'd convinced him to keep it so they could relive the moment again and again.

They'd enjoyed the immersion privately, not sharing it with anyone, until in a moment of self-doubt, Giselle shared her immersion stream with Charlie. After much soul searching, and a fair amount of badgering by Charlie, that immersion was released as the first, and thus far, only product of Immersion Playground, a company created for the sole purpose of releasing the immersion.

Her unexpected stop pulls him back from the past. As she turns to face him he wonders what game she's up to now. In the last several months, since the release of the immersion, the typically reserved Giselle has become more playful and aggressive in their lovemaking. Whether that's the result of their sharing the immersion and all the positive feedback, or just a natural progression in their relationship, he doesn't know. What he does know is that he likes the change in her, but he's sometimes unsure what's expected of him.