His LED Smile

'Fuck- Sam!' I moaned as my orgasm approached, quick and shining. 'Oh God!'

The images flashed through my mind, intrusive but not unwelcome - Sam and Bruno on my bed, her groaning with sex-hair as Bruno's fingers deftly unwound her; Andrew's thick cock sliding into me from behind, filling me in ways no one else ever has; Andrew fucking Sam before me, his lips on her neck, her mouth open and moaning like a wanton slut; now me and Sam had swapped, and Bruno was between my legs, fingers deep inside me and playing me to climax.

'Bruno!' I moaned, the fantasy of his fingers matching perfectly with the cold vibrating toy on my sex. I dipped it into me, my fingers spreading my lips, the sounds of wetness filing the bedroom as I grunted and moaned into the pillows. 'Oh, Bruno, fuck me!' My pleas were desperate and growing louder with each second.

I imagined him behind me, with me as I was in real life - face-down, arse-up on my bed, pleading for him. Only, instead of my fingers fucking the toy into myself and playing with my clit, I was gripping the bedsheets and biting the pillows as Bruno fucked me to oblivion.

'FuckfuckfuckfuckfuUU- OHH! Oh FUCK!'

The orgasm rocked through me, and I saw stars behind my clamped eyelids, my breath coming in short laboured bursts and my back stretching until it hurt.

Even compared to recent orgasmic trysts, this was intense on a level I hadn't experienced in years. I felt like fireworks were going off inside me, and yet the pleasure was this kind of rolling wave, ebbing and stirring around me - liquid and fire all at once.

Once the shivers had passed, and the world came back, I flipped onto my back, let the vibe drop away, and sighed.

I'm not sure how I feel about where this is going, I thought. Between the thoughts of Sam and Bruno - or Sam with Bruno - that had been bone-rattlingly good, and I knew that was a slippery slope.

Breath caught, I packed up the bullet, and dressed in some old clothes that I didn't mind getting dirty.

I straightened myself up, and called out to wake up Bruno, before finding the box of primer and paint on the coffee table. Bruno had picked up where he had left off in the kitchen, not missing a beat.

'Bruno?' I called out, hearing that he was up and running again after my, ahem, alone time.

He stepped through, a towel on his shoulder and wet hands held slightly aloft to stop them from dripping on the wood.

'Yes, Jen?' he asked

'Finish up in there - I've gotten you a gift.

His head sort of cocked at me, before he turned to dry his hands and put the towel away. When he came back through, his movements were slightly... stuff. Unsure. Not like Bruno at all, really.

'Sit,' I told him, and he obeyed quietly.

I opened the box, and found the primer spray, the paints in odd-looking plastic pots, and a set of brushes I had bought alongside. I started to pull them out, looking at the different colours and shades of the paints now they were in front of me - it was always different than how they looked on a screen - and lined them up almost in a display to Bruno.

'What do you think?' I asked.

His head cocked the other way. 'Do you need me to organise them? Or sort them away?'

I laughed, but it was slightly disappointing to hear. I wanted... I don't know. I wanted him to like them. Or, the idea of them. I had thought it must almost be like getting tattoos, but his reaction reminded me it might be closer to getting a new paint-job on a car. Or somewhere in the middle.

After all, Sam's words had gotten me all... worked up about thinking of Bruno as more than what he was. I shouldn't kid myself. He wasn't even a 'he' - calling him that just made me feel better.

Performative humanity, and all that.

Still, there was no way I was getting rid of him, and if I was going to have hid in the flat from here on out - as seemed pretty secure by this point - I wanted to get rid of that corporate blandness.

'Stand up,' I said, and he did so. 'Bruno, freeze.'

He shut down, pausing every action in an idle stance, his face blank, non-eyes fading to dark.

Before picking up the primer, I took my time to decide where I wanted to start. I already had designs in mind, so that wasn't the issue; it was more that, after fantasising about Bruno, to have him now, before me, completely open to my touch and gaze, I suddenly felt... intrusive.

I touched his arm, feeling him in a way I hadn't since he had pulled himself out of the box. Smooth, but slightly textured; taut, yet malleable to my touch.

'Oh,' I heard myself say, surprised by how warm he was. I had assumed he'd be cold. Mechanical. Instead, he was warm.

As soon as I realised I had just started stroking the 'skin' of his arm, I stopped, pulling away quickly. Then, I laughed at myself. It was silly! Both to do something like this with what was a glorified roomba, and to be embarrassed about it. So what if I was stroking him? He felt nice.

Plus, the real thing to be embarrassed about was how long I'd gone without touching someone else. Even with all of those fantasies running through my head, it was always me that was actually doing the touching. How long since I'd stroked someone else's arm absently while watching TV? Or, given a backrub after a stressful day? Or, felt under the covers on a cold night?

Stood behind Bruno, I allowed myself permission to touch him - just stroking the imitation skin that covered his back in plates that echoed shoulder blades, spine, ribs. A shiver went through me as I let my hands explore, touch-starved in more than one way.

That must be what this was. Touch-starved. Derived of human connection for so long I was happy, now, to find it elsewhere.

My fingers grazed over the 'skin', feeling the gaps between the plates that exposed the metal framework underneath. I touched his ribs, first from behind, snaking round to the front, until I was effectively hugging him from behind. My chest pressed into the strong, unyielding non-flesh of his unliving back, the thin layer of my pyjama top letting his heat ebb into me like a human hot water bottle.

I sighed, as my hands trailed his chest and belly, feeling how uncanny-valley all of this was. He felt so close to real, and then there would be a literal gap in his skin that broke the illusion. I wasn't meant to think of him as alive, and I didn't, but he was close enough to make me brave.

Brave enough to allow my hands to slip downwards.

I bit my lip, knowing how wrong this was, safe only in the knowledge that Bruno would never know I had indulged myself like this with him. Allowing his body to act like a vessel for my memories of Andrew - and others - was taking me back to more... intimate moments.

Sure, when I got myself off in bed, I was able to rifle through a backlog of sexy moments from days gone by, but this was... simpler. Just touching.

But, as my hands slid down, feeling the roll of a hip-bone imitation, I felt a flutter go through me. I knew Bruno wasn't a person, but the act was so inherently sexual that it made me react anyway.

I touched the tops of his hips as my breasts pressed into his back, my eyes just cresting over his shoulder. As I tickled what would be his pubic hair - if there was anything like that - I began to kiss the nape of his neck; lightly and softly pecking him. The lack of a reaction was a dead give-away that this wasn't what I wanted it to be. Which meant, of course, I wanted a reaction. I wanted someone to groan and shiver as my fingers dipped into their waistline; I wanted someone to kiss me back and shiver under my lips; I wanted someone who was going to touch me like I touched them.

'Mmm,' I groaned into Bruno's shoulder as my fingers drifted to where I was hoping, in vain, to find something between his legs. I knew I wanted there to be - it would be naive to pretend I didn't. How much I was disappointed to feel nothing but smooth imitation-skin was... debatable. Maybe it was for the best that Bruno didn't have some appendage to ravage me with; who knows if I could have resisted otherwise.

Why am I resisting? I thought.

It was an interesting question, with a few answers. The first answer, of course, was that I was simply scared of what it would be like, physically, to be with something that wasn't human. He wasn't just a sex toy like the bullet, and there was potential for him to be too rouch, or for metal to damage me.

Then, of course, there was the spiritual answer, in that I didn't know if I was ready to admit I wanted to fuck a robot. Which, let's be real, is the crude version of all of this. Call it loneliness, call it touch-starving - I wanted to fuck a robot. Maybe it was better to know there was a limit on letting me live out this dream.

The fact was, it was so taboo that just the thought of it was eating me up with conflict. On one side, I had never really trusted these new Homestay things, and if it weren't a company perk I would have never invited anything like Bruno into my home.

On the other hand, every moment I spent with Bruno just proved to me how completely I was in control. That I could literally shut him down at a moment's notice. I could have him do anything for me - which was... exciting. Thrilling.

Plus, I had never cum as hard as when I did when I thought about him and Sam...

Okay. That was true - it might be Sam's presence in all of this that I was actually attracted to. I mean, that seemed unlikely, as I had spent the last few minutes fondling Bruno to my heart's content, and now all I wanted was for him to do it back to me, but it was possible.

I could always invite Sam up here. See if she wanted to show me a thing or two.

No, that would be mortifying. The reason I liked Bruno was because I was in control. He was a known quantity - able to be stopped, memory erased, put back in the box if needed. Sam, not so much.

Which meant, I should figure out how I felt about Bruno before I did anything else.

The paints could wait.

'Bruno,' I said, stepping back, and trying to un-fluster myself. 'Wake up.'

FOUR - EXPERIMENTATION

'Hello, Jen.'

'I have a task for you.'

Bruno turned to look at me, his LED eyes pointed downward at my diminutive form. Well, relatively diminutive. Either way, I shuddered, feeling his gaze on me when I knew I was only half-dressed, and despite getting myself off not long ago at all, I was geared up for something.

But, I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

What I was ready for, was to get rid of that sense of being touch-starved; of having this craving for someone to feel me, touch me. And if it wasn't going to be sexual (because I wasn't sure I had the courage), then we would find another way.

'I would like a massage.'

Bruno nodded. 'Back, shoulder, or feet?' he asked. But I shook my head.

'Whole body,' I said, trying to ignore the nervous knot in my belly that hadn't left since I'd first touched him.

How was he doing this to me? He's not even human for fucks sake!

Bruno nodded. 'Okay. Where would you feel the most comfortable?'

'My... bed,' I said, realising how this looked. Of course, it only looked that way to me. Bruno didn't know, or care, or either - and no one else needed to know about this at all.

It was our secret.

I led him to my room, shifting the blankets and moving a pillow to the top-center for me to rest my head.

'I'll fetch the lotion,' Bruno said, taking a short detour into the bathroom. I wasn't even certain we had any kind of lotion, but he returned with moisturiser which I guessed would be the best we could do in lieu of actual massaging oils. Knowing Bruno, after this he'd get some ordered.

Taking a breath, I wanted to just check one last time; 'Bruno, you don't... record what you see, do you?'

Bruno shook his head. 'No. Your privacy and safety is my primary concern. I am able to, fi you would like-'

'No,' I said. 'No recording. Thanks.'

He nodded in a way that seemed... comforting. At the very least, it was sincere. He wasn't lying. He wasn't able to lie. What a guy.

So, in front of my B-Model Assistant Homestay, I stripped. I pulled my top off, no bra underneath, and pulled off the pyjama bottoms and socks in a quick motion, not stopping to revel in the idea that I was butt-naked in front of someone for the first time in, god, I didn't know how long.

That was assuming Bruno even counted as a 'person' to be naken in front of. Maybe it was more like being naked in front of an open laptop. I knew, on balance, there was no one watching; but that didn't mean I wasn't exposed.

Ignoring the thrill of it, I lay down on my front, chest-down on the still-warm blankets that reminded what I'd been doing here not long ago.

And what I'd been thinking of.

Jen, this is-

Whatever that thought was about to be, Bruno squirting ice-cold lotion onto my back killed it before it was fully formed.

'Ohh,' I sighed as Bruno began to massage it into my skin, his fingers soft and slick as they pressed into the small of my back, sliding northwards. 'Oh, Bruno,' I moaned, the wetness on my back growing to match the wetness I felt between my legs. I couldn't help it, nor could I deny it - between Bruno being the subject of my fantasy, fondling his near-perfect masculine form, and having him - ooooh - massage my naked form in a dimly-lit bedroom, I was starting to run out of reasons to resist this. Sam's implication had always been that Bruno, and his like, were perfect lovers. If I wanted to find out, I would have to bite the bullet eventually.

For now, though - ahh - I figured I could just enjoy the massage.

First, the pressure in my shoulders was firmly pressed away, before he moved further down. Bruno's lifelike fingers sent shivers through me as he slowly, perfectly massaged the small of my back, and I could feel the tightness in my core that had come hand-in-hand with my, shall we say, unusual fantasies in the last few weeks. Little by little, he eased the worry and pressure inside me, letting me fall into a drowsy state.

Expert palms worked my back, lulling me down, down into a doze, when he suddenly shifted. My mouth, already open and letting out pleased huffs of air as Bruno did his thing, released a surprised moan that brought me back to the world of the living, as Bruno's attention turned to my calves. It wasn't a wholly sexual shift, but the feeling of his hands on my legs made that tension come back all so quickly.

He worked me expertly, pressing out the knots of tension in my legs, working his way up - but all I could think about was how wet I was.

I couldn't help it.

A massage the quality of which I could only expert people would have had to pay a stupid amount of money for, and I was only able to think about the fact that, as Bruno started to massage my thighs, I needed to spread my legs to let him in.

It was so fucking sexy - in a way I didn't know I would respond to. I mean, I knew exactly what I expected to get from this - a bit of skin-on-not-skin contact to try and alleviate my touch-starved little soul, but instead I was panting as Bruno had me face-down - my favourite position - legs spread and moaning in pleasure as he worked me over.

All that was missing was a cock deep inside me, or a tongue on my clit, or something to help push me over the edge.

I practically heard my lips part as I let my legs spread further, biting my lip to stop myself from crying out or asking Bruno to do something... wrong.

Was it wrong? I found myself asking.

I was desperate for the release. It wasn't enough to touch, or to be touched - I had tried that, and clearly I needed more. It was driving me mad, to the point where even though I'd cum only this evening, I was still gagging for it.

I found myself starting to move - only slightly, raising my hips up and down against his thigh-massages, letting my clit brush against the blankest of my bed and making me sigh. My hands were under me, pressing at my tits, teasing my nipples as I softly, gently bounced back and forth.

'Oh, fuck...'

Soon, Bruno was almost at my cheeks, spread and open, as I dry-humped - though it wasn't much dry - the bed, moaning like a slut as he touched me. I was delirious. Couldn't think. Wanted to cum with his hands on me. In me.

'Bruno,' I said, hald to moan his name, half to get his attention.

'Yes, Jen?' he asked, as though nothing was happening. As though I wasn't beneath him, getting myself off, with his help.

I didn't know what to say to him, but I knew what I wanted. I wanted him inside me. To fuck me. To take me, like a man would - aggressive and hard. Or, to make love to me for hours, never tiring, riding me slowly until I fell asleep with him still deep within me.

Only, there was nothing for him to fuck me with.

Well, not nothing.

'Bruno-oh,' I said again, feeling my clit drag against the bedding. 'I need you to- to-' Oh god, could I really ask him?

Him? It. A machine - no different from the vibrator, Jen. Like Sam said - they're good for it.

'Yes, Jen?' he asked, noticing I'd trailed off.

'I need you to put your finger inside my vagina, and fuck me,' I groaned as I said it, finally hearing the words escape my mouth. 'Please, Bruno?'

'Okay,' he said, as chipper and light as always - and then I felt his finger slip into me. I was so wet, and so desperate, there was almost no resistance, and I felt his digit fit neatly between my folds. 'What do you mean by, 'fuck'?'

'Fuck me,' I said, grinding onto his hand a little. God, this was hot - but his finger wasn't moving. And he'd stopped massaging. What was going on?

'I don't know that command,' he said.

'Push it in, then pull it out again, over and over, until I tell you to stop,' I said, hoping for the best.

'Okay,' he said, still placid and calm - it was almost annoying. I wanted to be fucked - I wanted passion. Maybe it was daft of me to hope of that from a machine.

As his fingers started moving inside me, I moaned into the bed. Dispassionate voice or not, feeling something inside me other than the vibrator or my own fingers was unreal. Quickly, his digits thrust into my prone form over and over, the soft pap pap pap of his palm clapping on my cheek giving me a rhythm to match with my panting.

'Uh, uhh, uhh!' Closer and closer he brought me, and I knew I had to tell him. I wasn't a dominant person, but he clearly wasn't going to take initiative on something like this. 'Bru-bruno!' I called, my voice high as I was fingered on my bed. 'A little faster! Harder!'

He complied, and when I looked down under myself I saw his arm behind me moving like a piston, smooth and consistent and methodical. I thought of buying myself a dildo and having him do this to me with that, fucking me without mercy until I came.

'Ohhh-ho-holy shit!'

The orgasm hit me by surprise, quick and sharp, like fireworks going through my pussy, firing through my chest,and out of my mouth in pathetic mewls. 'AH! Bruno-oh-oh-ohhh!'

Unlike any human lover, Bruno didn't slow or pause - neither did he speed up, or try to actively push me over; instead, as I shuddered through cumming, he kept at me, pushing me quickly into a second orgasm that ripped through me like a shotgun.

'FUCK!' I cried into the pillow, Bruno between my legs. I pulled up and away, my brain starting to fog a little bit as my body tried to recuperate, but Bruno just moved with me, hammering into me in that same unending pap-pap-pap-pap dragging against my g-spot and palm slapping against my clit.

'BRU!' I called, my hands clawing at him, as I felt another orgasm screaming towards me, building inside my sex. It was almost scary, how he not only didn't needed to rest, but that he was so precise in his movements to keep fucking me, not matter how much I thrashed.