Augmented Reality

He bought the best AR gear, hired a prompt-engineer and installed Rabbit Assistant. At last, he'd have a girlfriend. He could visualise her. If he could find her on the internet, she'd be his.

Kevin lived in the basement of his sister's house. His parents rejected him on his release from prison. His sister, taking pity, offered her basement, warning her kids to stay away from Uncle Kev. 'He's not good with kids.'

Such a conviction made him unemployable. For six months he supplemented his dole by begging outside a supermarket, growing increasingly depressed. When he thought nothing positive would ever again happen to him, he found a wallet in a jacket someone had abandoned on a car seat. He was flush, he bought an iPhone with the generous reward given him for returning the wallet he'd found in the street, empty of cash but complete with plastic personabilia.

He'd heard of the possibilities AI innovations afforded and used Augmented Reality to transform his life. He'd no longer subsist alone in a grimy, rat-infested basement. After a days sleep he'd climb into his gear, and spend his nights with superheroes in fabulous realms, competing against companions spread across the world, seeing the sites, enjoying the company, sharing their adventures. He used a nose-clip to exclude the damp, mousey smell of rat faeces and decaying cockroaches from this other world.

Then he discovered Lit. He fantasized about the female authors, liking some, lusting after others, sending dick-pics, soliciting their female perspective on titillating perversions. He'd been indiscriminate, hitting on any female, feigning interest in their kink, hoping to elicit a response.

He never meant it to happen; he fell in love.

Melanie had described her ideal penis; not too long, not too short, not too thin, not too fat. That's exactly what he was holding in his hand -- he saw this as a sign.

He stalked Melanie across the threads, spending hours daily trawling her overabundant posts, liking them and shooting off dick-pics of his ejaculation to prove his love. She was a cum-slut who could conform to anyone's carnal dream in 7000 words, and he adored her. He knew she'd have a collection of dick-pics pinned to her shower mirror, perhaps with marks out of ten endorsed, and wondered what his score could be.

She never responded. Perhaps he never made it to her mirror... but that couldn't be... not when they were, physically, so compatible.

Many had responded, asking for more, and kinkier, but they never clicked. He wound para-cord around his cock or decorated it with lace panties, even masturbated with a Unicorn glove puppet. However, he could never be sure they were his sort of 'girl' in the way Melanie was. She was light, fun, feminine, some others were dark, menacing and truculent.

Kevin propped his smartphone on the desk and lounged back in the custom chair, ready to conjure up his dream girl. The electronic CockNBall harness lifted and spread his balls, his penis fought the constriction of his SuckUautowank.

'Rabbit, I'm in a dungeon with a petite blonde, Melanie, we're playing hide-the-sausage, no-holes-barred. She's a three-bears kind of girl, she likes it, not too big, not too small, just the right size, my size.'

Melanie manifested at his feet, the bespectacled face of her avatar complementing her slender, naked, just-right body. She eyed his just-right penis compressed in its autowank, her tart-red lipstick lips forming an inviting red O for Orgasm Here, as he'd fantasised they would.

'Suck your fingers,' he said. She fixed his eyes with hers and sucked two fingers between moistened, voluptuous lips; his autowank jerked like a dog restrained by leash.

'Now you anus.'

She bent. Her puckered brown sphincter yawned into a mushy O for Online.

'Now your cunt.'

She straddled him. It was as wickedly crimson as the fingernails pulling her labia taught a tongue's length away from his face.

She'd complied in silence. Puzzled, he solicited her trademark banter. 'I expected you'd be much more chatty.'

She purred, 'Don't actions speak louder than words? Do you feel the appeal of

my stiletto heel on your left testicle?'

"Yes, actually... it's kinda uncomfortable.'

A compression of his chest thrust Kevin back into the chair. 'Wanna feel my full bodyweight?'

'Fuck, no. Are you mad?'

'Yes. Call me Mad, Maddy or Madeline.' She lifted the avatar mask. 'Melanie's much too busy on Lit; she asked me to cover.'

Kevin lunged toward the power cord and jerked out the plug.