For the Love of an Android

That was important to me, very important. Like any other decent modern man worth his bread, I have always very much been in favour of the generations-old concept of Enthusiastic Consent - when it came to sexy-times, my lady-friend had to be extremely keen on doing the horizontal mumbo with me, and I always wanted no truck with anything less.

And if a synthetic life form, such as Jacinta, had to be programmed to perform these acts... did that qualify as consent, enthusiastic or otherwise?

It seemed as though Jacinta understood exactly where I was coming from. "Mister Scott," she breathed, even as she kept on stroking me, building, building me higher and higher, slowly but surely. "Having got to know you - seeing how kind and caring and wonderful you are with the kids; and how very gentlemanly and respectful you are towards me, a simple android - I can assure you that I do want this. I do want to do this for you. Very much," she added, her face an incredibly authentic picture of sincerity... mixed with a rising, very real, very obvious arousal of her own.

And she leaned down and kissed me.

Her kiss set me on fire. It was real, it was an actual kiss - she meant it, there was desire and passion and a wanting, a yearning, a need behind her kiss. In the short time that she had been in my house, this incredible being appeared to have developed a very keen appreciation of myself; it seemed to have developed quickly, but perhaps at the rate that synthetic neural pathways can gather and process information, Jacinta had probably spent quite some time considering all that I was and all that she thought and felt towards me.

And it came out now, all of it, in her kiss.

I kissed her back, matching her passion. I reached up to hold her face, tender and appreciative; my hands trailed down her neck, over her shoulders, and landed upon her bosom - large and soft, she felt so real, and in a flash she had whipped off her top and her bra and I was cupping her bared breasts, warm and heavy, her skin so soft, her nipples actually growing stiff at my touch. So real, so life-like - so awesome.

"Sit up on the edge of the bed please, Mister Scott," Jacinta instructed, leaving off the kiss and speaking with a breathy excitement.

I was happy to do as the android told me, as she kneeled down on the floor beside the bed. She lined me up, and before I knew it, I was in her mouth - warm and moist, her tongue soft and unbelievably life-like as she swirled it about the head of my cock.

"Oh my..." I moaned. "Jacinta, you feel incredible!"

"Thank you," she murmured, leaving off my cock a moment to fix me in the eye as she replied. "I am here to please, and it pleases me to please you."

"I'm definitely not complaining!" I told her with a smile.

She grinned a genuine grin back at me, before taking my cock back into her mouth, pumping up and down and making me groan once more.

I've always loved the sight of a woman going down on me. This was a new position for me however, and I was quickly learning that sitting on the edge of the bed was the best place for the best view; I craned my neck slightly to the side as I shrugged out of my shirt to sit fully nude, taking in the sight of Jacinta's mouth plunging up and down on me, up and down, framed by a wonderful background of her full, warm, bared breasts, her legs splayed out on the floor and - amazingly - her hand plunged down into her pants, working at herself wilfully and obviously, which riled me up evermore.

I was not one usually to come during oral sex; I enjoyed it, for sure, but I usually became self-conscious about how long it often took to get me there. That, coupled with a concern for the strain on the neck of my giving partner, would usually see me bring them up for a kiss, and then moving on to other - more mutually-intimate - activities.

But on this night, with Jacinta, it was very different. The speed at which she moved, the wonderful technique she employed - how they programmed them to do that, I definitely did not want to know - coupled with the sheer taboo in being intimate with an android, and the regrettably long interval since my last romantic encounter...

"Jacinta, I'm going to cum," I barely had time to warn her.

She let out what could only be described as a small moan - acknowledging, encouraging, only too happy to hear it and in no mind of leaving off my cock. God it was beautiful, sounded beautiful, looked beautiful...

She was beautiful.

And I came. My moans and groans peaked in urgency and I roared out my release, trying not to rise up off the bed or buck against her ministrations, even as she changed her method to pull at me, and pull at me, finding the pulse and rhythm of my orgasm to pull along in time with my spurting cock and edging me out, stretching the orgasm out longer and longer, until I could barely stand it for fear of dissolving into shuddering orgasmic madness and she eased off, drinking me down, pumping me slower and slower, catching my eye as she did so.

And right at the end: she left off, and with a wonderfully sordid grin she opened her mouth and showed me the last puddle of my white essence cupped on her tongue, before she closed her mouth and visibly swallowed the last of it with a real, wicked glee.

"Holy crap," was all I could say, partially collapsed back onto my elbows in a sweaty, heaving wreck. "So much for your diet!" I added, cornily.

She was good enough to laugh at that - a real, genuine, deep-throated little giggle, even as she rose slowly to clamber over my semi-prostrated, naked form. "Some things are worth breaking the diet for," she murmured.

We kissed again - and for the life of me, I could have sworn I was kissing a flesh-and-blood woman. Her weight settled against me, soft and warm; her skin, her hands, her breasts, warm and lithe and lively; her mouth, moist and soft, tasting incredibly like a woman's mouth, mixed in with a lingering hint of my own essence...

"Jacinta," I told her between kisses. "You have to be the most extraordinary being I've ever been with."

Jacinta left off the kiss, to regard me with wonder. "I believe you really do mean that," she observed. "That's..." and she seemed genuinely lost for words; the little blue circular LED embedded into her temple flashed and blinked yellow for a moment, and I knew that meant she was suddenly processing a lot of input at very high speed. "No one has ever said anything like that to me before," she finally added.

Concern filled my mind, as I haltingly touched upon the implications of what life with 'Mister Brad' was probably like, when Julia and the girls had their backs turned. "I hate to think how Brad might have been treating you, before you came here," I told her.

Jacinta's features instantly painted a reassuring picture. "Please don't be concerned - I was very happy in Mister Brad and Missus Julia's household," she promised me. "They were not abusive at all, at any time."

"Maybe," I allowed. "But Brad, stumping up for these 'optional extras', and going behind Julia's back..." I added; as much as I was never happy about them being together, the idea of Brad cheating on Julia - even if it was only with Jacinta, their android - brought me to the verge of anger.

"Oh no. Missus Julia was aware of my upgrades," Jacinta said - shortly, and carefully, but with a huge amount of unspoken meaning behind what she said.

That brought me to a halt, very quickly. "Sorry?" I frowned. "Did you just say... did, did Julia... and you-"

"Now Mister Scott," Jacinta broke in, chiding but playful. "It would be a breach of my operational parameters, to divulge any details of what may or may not have gone on between myself and my former owners."

I found myself boggling at this bemusing, beautiful, wonderful creature yet again. The things that she had just said, by not actually saying them - the tone she used, the inflections, so carefully and perfectly planting ideas and visions in my head, forbidden scenes of Jacinta and my gorgeous ex-wife together...

This behaviour couldn't be programmed, surely.

"Jacinta: you are something else," I told her, warmly.

Jacinta took an extra second to take that in - and after another brief yellow flash of the LED on her temple, she simply beamed at me. "You're not too bad yourself, Mister Scott," she returned.

And we kissed again, for the longest time. The way that she kissed me, the intensity and urgency, the thankfulness and gratitude - it was all there, it was real. They were real, actual emotions that she felt, there was no longer any doubt in my mind. No man, nor woman, nor machine could hope to program, to emulate, to simulate such finely nuanced, very real things.

Jacinta wanted me. She respected me. She liked me - very much. And, mad as my rapidly-diminishing rational mind surely thought it was, all of those feelings for her were there in me too. And they were building.

We eventually left off of the kiss, to regard each other. "Thank you, Mister Scott," Jacinta said - as though I had done anything for her, for which she might be thankful - and she rose off the bed, gathering her clothes as she did. "Good night."

I blinked. For a fraction of a second, I considered asking her to stay - to stay in my bed, stay with me for the night. But I quickly realised it was too much and too far. She'd only come into my house two days prior, and ultimately, she was still an android. Was I ready to be the guy who slept - genuinely slept, with his android?

It was a moot point anyway. Jacinta's back was turned and she was out the door, with nary a look back. As real as those emotions had felt while we were together, now it seemed as though she had simply fulfilled another of her many various functions - that of saving me the bother of bringing myself to another sad, lonely orgasm - and she was returning to her place, back to the comfy couch in the living room.

'At least I'm not sending her to a cupboard, or the back corner of the garage,' I supposed.

But still: in at least some small way, it didn't quite feel right.

CHAPTER THREE

In the morning, my regular wake-up routine brought me to the kitchen. To my surprise and delight, Jacinta had fixed a hearty hot breakfast of bacon, eggs, roasted tomatoes and toast - a huge upgrade over my regular bowl of cold cereal.

"Mmm that smells good!" I declared with a smile. "Good morning, Jacinta."

"Good morning, Mister Scott," Jacinta returned - warmly, but not that warmly. At least, not with any of the 'hey, I sucked your cock last night and then we made out, which was kinda awesome' undertones that my ego had probably hoped to see and hear; she was friendly, but otherwise business-as-usual in her tone and general demeanour.

I was probably a bit crestfallen, but I bravely worked not to let it show. "Thank you for cooking this up," I told her. "It's a treat, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she smiled, even as she finished plating it all up. "I know you usually only have cereal for your breakfast, but I also know you like to cook a hot breakfast on the weekend when the girls are here. I anticipated that you would appreciate this as a treat for yourself, at least once in a while."

"Spot on," I declared. "That is very much the case, thank you."

"You are welcome," she said again, smiling all the same - and she handed me my plate. "Here you go; your coffee will be ready shortly."

'Oh, coffee too!' I cheered, inwardly. I could have kissed her again - and I was tempted to do so, but it somehow didn't seem right, there and then. "I'm fighting the urge to say 'thank you' again," I told her, instead.

"To which I would have said, 'you're welcome', again!" she smiled.

As I collected my plate, I turned somewhat, and risked a bit of a hip-bump against her - just a minor, slight move, I thought; a little bit of calculated small-scale intimacy on my part.

I quickly looked, and I caught the flash of a grin on her face, before she regarded me again with a carefully-composed countenance of more generalised bonhomie.

'Righto then,' I thought to myself, with some satisfaction. 'There is something there, I reckon - something more than just an inbuilt optional function, to serve her "owner" when she overhears him having a wank. That's good,' I decided.

'And it will be good to investigate it further,' I added to myself, tucking into my breakfast - which was deliciously immaculate, of course.

***

My Mondays always saw me having to head down to the office - an autocar ride to the station, where it would park itself on the high-speed Tube line down to the city, and then a short jaunt through the CBD to my newspaper's sky-scraping building for a face-to-face with the team, and a few meetings with my senior editors. We all knew these meetings could be undertaken just as easily by VR tele-commuting, and a certain percentage of the staff often did call in from their homes from time to time; but still, sometimes a genuine face-to-face elbow-bump and smile did wonders to keep the team that much more closely-knit.

Once my workday was done, having caught the autocar and Tube back to my place in the far-outer-'burbs, I spent much of that time - which I would usually devote to kicking-off my stories for the evening - considering the conundrum that was Jacinta.

I mean: I liked her. And I wanted her. She was up for shenanigans, that much was clear; and it seemed as though I didn't really have to ask, if I was feeling frisky I was apparently 'entitled' to simply jump her and have my wicked way.

But that still seemed so... wrong.

I didn't want to use her like that, as though she was just a, a... an appliance, built to serve my sexual whims. I was sure I was better than that. That kind of approach seemed arrogant, and unfair, domineering and denigrating - all the things I've long prided myself on not being.

I've always been so keen on the hunt, the slow dance. The art of seduction, such as it was. Not that I'm some kind of lothario, or any kind of irresistible sexual dynamo. I'm a fairly average bloke, average height, average weight, not especially or impressively well-endowed in any particular sense... nor under-endowed, thank you kindly.

But still: just as much as I'm sure most folk do, I enjoy the act of love-making that much more when there's feeling behind it; when there's a genuine level of emotion, coupled with a nicely-stoked, slow-burning desire, a build-up of yearning, a sense of having won something long sought-after.

I was not going to simply burst through the door, bend Jacinta over, and give her a quick nasty prodding. I was going to work up to it. And win it...

If I could.

***

Upon exiting the autocar that evening and watching it drive away to pick up its next passenger, I took a deep, steadying breath before heading into my house.

Inside, there was a lovely thick smell of cooked food to greet me at the door. "Hey Jacinta, I'm home!" I hailed, heading straight for the kitchen. "That smells delicious," I added, beaming a genuine warm grin as I laid eyes upon Jacinta working at the stove-top.

"Moroccan-seasoned pork steaks, with baked vegetables and salad," Jacinta reported, smiling welcomingly in reply.

"That sounds great," I told her - and it really did, my stomach was rumbling with anticipation. "You've cooked a fair bit there," I observed.

"I will be joining you for dinner tonight," Jacinta replied.

"Will you really?" I returned, delighted at the thought of actually sharing a meal with her.

"Yes, really," Jacinta confirmed, her smile growing as she took in my excitement. "I quite like the taste and texture of a lean pork steak, I will partake of it from time to time."

I was not expecting to hear that. "You... can actually taste things?" I repeated.

"Very much so," she confirmed. "I was tempted by your offer of an ice-cream yesterday, down by the lake - very tempted! It would have been quite the treat."

"Damned diets, eh?" I cracked. I had been thinking of something else she had tasted yesterday though, the image of her presenting that little puddle of my cum, cupped upon her tongue as she knelt before me last night in the bedroom... 'she didn't seem to mind the taste of that either,' I recalled, hoping the sudden stirring in my pants wasn't overly obvious.

I turned away and busied myself setting the table for two, and soon we were tucking in to our meals. "Jacinta, this is just delicious," I told her, gratitude dripping from every word.

"I am glad you're enjoying it," she told me, between delicate bites of her own.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," I began, "but can you actually derive any form of nourishment from the food you're eating now?"

"Actually, I can," Jacinta replied. "There are certain fatty oils and other organic compounds within the meat and vegetables which my system can process and employ, for the lubrication of my various joints and other moving parts."

"Is that right?" I returned. "So androids are not typically vegetarian, then?"

"We do not subscribe to any such culinary philosophies of our own accord, no," she confirmed. "But the consumption of meat, or indeed any other food stuff, is not essential to our operation. We can of course derive our necessities from entirely synthetic sources, and we do not need to do so on a significantly regular basis. It is more a case," she continued, "of our designers identifying an opportunity to employ any such food stuffs that we may imbibe, whenever we are invited or are welcomed by our families to do so."

"I'm very glad you chose to share this meal with me," I told her with a smile. "This is really nice - a big improvement over my usual dinners-for-one."

"I am enjoying this as well," Jacinta returned, with a genuine smile. "You make for good company, Mister Scott," she added - with maybe a hint of heavier meaning behind her words?

I liked to think so, at least.

Encouraged by that, I decided to push on with an idea or two I'd had while the autocar was driving me home that afternoon. "So Jacinta," I began. "Do you spend much time following the news, and current events?"

"I do," she nodded. "It's always important in my role, to be aware of what is going on in the world - current events can have a significant effect on the family I serve, and the manner in which I serve them. Last year's troubles with the Cuban Flu is a prime example."

"That was awful, wasn't it?" I nodded. "We were all isolating at home for weeks. My Grandad was saying it was almost as bad as the old Covid-21."

"Indeed," Jacinta agreed. "Why do you ask?" she added, harking back to my original question.

"I was curious, was all," I shrugged. "Are you aware of my profession?"

"Of course," she returned, brightly. "You are an award-winning Senior Journalist with the Sydney Herald, one of Australia's most respected news outlets, specialising in Economics and International Affairs."

I smiled. "You've just quoted my LinkedBook professional blurb, word for word," I teased.

Jacinta very nearly looked abashed, bless her. "It is part of my operating parameters to gain a full background on my Contract Administrator," she explained.

"You can access pretty much anything that's publically available on the net, can't you?"

"I am connected to the Cloud," she confirmed. "As all Androids are. It is much easier to refer to an online recipe for Moroccan-spiced pork steaks," she added, as she slipped another piece of her dinner onto her fork, "than it is to maintain a library of data inside one's head."

"It's very much the same for humans," I smiled. "So," I added, trying my best not to sound too crafty, "have any of my works from over the years, caught your interest?"

"They have, in fact," Jacinta told me. "I have reviewed much of your professional output. Many of your treaties on the demise of the United States were quite intriguing - you have been praised for presenting critiques and viewpoints that were unique, but very well presented, with a sound base of logic and reasoning."