Love versus The Spreadsheet

In that instant he recalled the dart piercing his neck. He couldn't understand why he remembered that now.

His reading of her self-esteem had been based on how she behaved with him. Now, Neal wondered if she had a stronger sense of self, but hid it away.

Whatever. He'd agreed, so he'd go out with Felicia tonight. She was a decent fuck. Tomorrow, that would be over, and he could come to his senses. And, if necessary, update the spreadsheet. If the new data put Felicia on the wrong side of a setpoint, so be it. He smiled at that, thinking he had gained control of the situation.

Except, when he called her at noon, he not only agreed at once with her restaurant and movie choices, but chatted with her, actually enjoying the wit she now seemed willing to show. This fed his curiosity about her secret self, and that took priority over his reserve.

***

Valentinus took care of all the background work on the date. There was a waiter who mostly paid attention to Felicia, a snotty valet parker at the theater who wasn't impressed with Neal, and several others who, even in brief moments, hinted who the truly important person was in the couple.

Cupid and Psyche were mainly inert presences in their hosts, through the drive to Neal's lakefront town house.

Neal could have just taken her back to her place, banged her, and followed his usual post-sex exit strategy. Because she had made the other choices, however, Neal felt the need to take some kind of action, so he offered to host her. He told himself that he thereby claimed the home field advantage.

Felicia had only been to his place once, early on, when Neal was making a point of impressing her. Not to win her over, but to show her who mattered here. This had the desired effect at the time, making an already deferential woman even more subdued, and willing to please.

Now she looked around the place more casually. Lots of space, for one person. Vertical blinds were open to show the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the lake. After dark, however, there was little to look at.

There was not much decor, but an entire wall was devoted to a flatscreen, large speakers, and various home entertainment components in the same black-rectangle motif. "I guess you like living large," she said.

"Yeah," he said, with an air of triumph and smugness. Then, something about that seemed wrong to him. Had Felicia said that in approval, or...what, exactly?

He picked up the largest remote control and said, "Want to see what's available?" The channels, the streams, the music, the archives, the games, everything that could be rendered electronically. He was ready to demonstrate his command of them all.

She wasn't interested, but said, "If you want to show me."

Psyche had coaxed Felicia to combine her deference with her indifference.

Cupid, meanwhile, made words to Neal: What's the first thing that would appear?

Abruptly, Neal realized that, though the system was hibernating, the spreadsheet was still open. He almost dropped the remote, and set it down awkwardly.

"Nah," he said, trying to get into cool mode. "That's not why you, uh, we're here."

"I guess not," she said. Her smile was expanded by his apparent anxiety. She found him less impressive than ever before. But this fascinated her. Yet she tried to muffle a possible belief that she, Felicia Tattersall, was doing this to him.

***

When the image above the altar showed Neal and Felicia entering the bedroom, draperies in the temple parted, and Eros strode in. "So, you demigods are in need of tumescence and ejaculation?"

"Yes," said Cupid, he hoped neutrally.

To the puzzled Valentinus, Psyche gave a warning look, and said, "Olympus is well served by the god of orgasm."

"Oh yes, I remember now," said Valentinus with a snicker. It was during the Olympians' visit to Monotheism that the demigods explained how Cupid's long-ago proposal, for mortals to choose their lovers, was seen by Eros as a threat. But the plan, refined by Psyche to make human minds as important to passion as their bodies, was approved by Zeus. During their first project together, Cupid and Psyche fell in love. They were elevated from mortals to demigods. Eros lost much of his portfolio, but remained on the roster of greater gods.

"The male's health is adequate," said Eros, looking through the gap in the mists. "The deed can be done quickly."

"That is not our intent," said Cupid firmly. "It should occur in the course of their mutual ardor, and after other acts, which build their pleasure."

Eros glared at Cupid, and also at Psyche. "This male's past actions haven't included such time-wasting!"

Cupid held firm. "The arrow allows him to attempt new actions."

Eros looked again through the mists, and with a hint of a snarl, said, "I await your guidance."

***

Neal declared, "Meriwether, set the mood." The light in the bedroom dimmed and softened, while music wafted gently from hidden speakers. Neal had programmed the system to activate upon hearing a name he would never say, except when giving an order.

Felicia had only the slightest tingle from this. Mostly, she had to suppress a laugh at how much of a cliche it was. Yet as she looked at Neal, her strongest feeling was desire. Here was this guy with male-model looks and a sculpted body, and instead of her being his, it seemed as if he was becoming hers.

Psyche took no action, and merely noted Felicia's physical excitement, including blood flow, heat, and moisture. This was helpful, because while Eros could spur the ecstasy of all humans, he often attended only to men's.

Cupid saw the need to make words to Neal: You could dance with her.

Well, yeah, there was music on, so, sure. Usually he danced only with the real hotties in his stable, who got all sweet and mushy then. He had no idea what this would do for Felicia, but it might tell him more about her secret self. He smiled through the low light and asked her, "Care to dance?"

"Why yes," she said, almost giggling, and setting her arms to slow-dance position.

Psyche felt the presence of Terpsichore, and the sense of a question. With a smile, Psyche told the muse, They'll just lean, sway, and hug. Like any other pair of humans who are already ready.

Terpsichore's chuckle faded with her presence.

The pair of humans may have been ready, but they weren't connecting. Despite their closeness, neither looked at the other. Felicia had a sudden spike of anxiety from the slight embrace, and Neal worried that she'd see some goofy expression on his face.

Valentinus disliked electronic equipment, but he had learned ways to influence it. He took the music that was bland and forgettable, and altered the sound palette to change the emphasis on the feed from some of the instruments. He also added rhythm accents to elicit better physical response from listeners.

Felicia turned her face towards Neal's. While he was doing the same, his right arm around her back held her more firmly, and her right hand squeezed his left.

Even in the dimmed light, her eyes glowed. Neal saw that, wanted to keep seeing it, while his blood flow down below wanted something else.

He asked, "Would you like to get more comfortable?"

Her quickening breath could only push out, "Uh huh." Felicia couldn't trust what she saw in this light. Before now, at this juncture, what she saw on Neal's face was desire for sex. His expression now was different. Maybe a desire specifically for her?

Neal's routine was to undress both parties. That was part of being in charge. It started as it should, as he lifted her blouse free of the skirt, and she nodded. But then words formed: How would it feel if she does that to you?

At the same moment, Felicia's hands nearly twitched to get at his shirt buttons.

Neal saw that. With a little thrill he hadn't expected, he said, "Be my guest."

She was quick and jerky, but didn't damage the clothes. She multitasked, nipping at his chest hair as she yanked fabric away. He almost fell backwards as she yanked down his pants.

Fun sizzled through her. For the first time, she could treat his body as her playground. She had never dared to hope for this. He had always made all the moves, and she had always let them happen.

He was so distracted, that she had him denuded while she was still in underwear. He got a hand on the side of her bra, but she was already unclasping it. His eyes widened, seeing her wild look as she bent at the waist to shove down her briefs.

Neal felt yet another thrill, that she stripped herself, because she wanted him. He knew he was like every other guy, yearning for women to be that way. But to let a woman take that kind of action, he'd have to take a chance that he'd like the results. His whole life was about leaving nothing to chance.

Even when she knelt before him and brought his cock to her lips, as she had done so many times before, he was unnerved that she had begun before he said that it was time for her to do that. All of his women knew that he expected them to spend some time as his blowbot. What he wanted from that wasn't the orgasm, it was the reassurance of being the standing man served by the kneeling woman.

And, woah, her suck this time floored him, almost literally. Despite Eros holding back, Neal's tool was on the way to an early outburst he hadn't planned. He blurted, "um, uh, easy?"

Psyche did no more than send Felicia waves of approval, and those were for her initiative, although her fellating also merited praise. With her mouth and both hands, Felicia joyfully worked Neal's most intimate playground equipment, slurping down to his balls, getting the head to the brink of her throat, fingering to the far end of his perineum. She knew he was sensitive here and here and also here, and she had a giddy notion to drive all of them to the limit at the same time.

Then she felt Neal's hands grip her shoulders, and heard him say, "Felicia!"

Which was a shock. He almost never called her by her name. With a mouth still full of cock, she raised her eyes to his.

"That's great," he half-wheezed to her, briefly showing a reflex smile. "But how about we use the bed?"

Forcing herself to calm down a little, she gently freed her mouth and said, "Okay."

Once on the bed, he arranged them side to side, face to face. It was high time to get the sex on track, his track. Some kiss-and-hug, the press of his muscles reminding her who she's dealing with, then the fuck that he wanted, whether it worked for her or not.

Psyche gently asked Felicia, Would you like him to enjoy more of your playground?

Felicia told Neal, "I like your mouth." After the next kiss, she kicked her mind beyond even Psyche's nudge, and said what she never thought she could. "There's a place where I'd like your mouth even more."

This was Cupid's biggest challenge. Neal had always used a professed dislike of vaginal smell and taste to avoid cunnilingus. Psyche, however, had learned Neal's underlying issue, and shared it with Cupid.

Neal was already pulling back from Felicia, mouth opening to deflect the request, when words formed in his head: Can you succeed in her world?

Neal froze. Women were...other. He didn't understand their world. He needed to lure them into his.

Felicia feared she had overstepped. But before that mind-swell could take hold, she was still eager enough to smile and say, "I know you'll be great at it!"

The sight of her plain, pleased face, and the sound of her encouraging words, made his heart...flutter? Cupid deftly shunted Neal's lizard-brain snippets, like 'Eat pussy? Gross!' and 'Who's in charge here?' This cleared the way for Neal to find that he wanted to succeed, for his sake...and even hers.

He said, "Anything for you, Baby," thinking it was a joke. As he moved his head past her torso, however, he wasn't sure it worked that way.

Her crotch scent was strong. He pushed his face through to its source.

In fact, he wasn't very good. His tongue kept losing track of her clit. But he kept licking, and fingering inside her hood. And soon Felicia's anxiety dispersed, and the pleasure spread through her, the heat and the trembling. The wonder of this being done, by Neal, was surpassed by the joy of the act itself.

Her clit swelled. His tongue and lips now kept good contact with it.

The sound bursting out from that bedroom was, perhaps for the first time ever, genuine.

***

"Now?" said Eros, his folded arms and angled head emphasizing his impatience.

"Yes," said Cupid with a smile.

Neal was jolted by the intensity of his erection. Had her orgasm done that to him?

Felicia's vision cleared. She saw what sprouted from his groin.

"Wow!" she said, now hoarse. "Guess that didn't turn you off!"

"Yeah! No! Right! Uh huh!" He shifted to put his legs between hers.

Thoroughly blissed by her climax, she spread her legs languidly, quite content now to let him do what he wanted. Wet and slack, her vulva welcomed him easily. She enjoyed being filled by him, with no need to seek another extreme pleasure peak of her own. With Neal, she had always been afraid to sneak in some self-fingering while he pumped. He might take that as a critique of his ability to satisfy. Now, she was content to look at his face, and be amused by his bugging eyes, his clamping jaw, and what might have been his reddened skin, but in this light she wasn't certain.

He jerked and grunted several times. She kept herself from laughing aloud at the spectacle.

Soon after he lifted out and flopped to the side, however, her fun faded.

Felicia quivered. This had happened so fast. She was thrilled...but wondered, now, how she'd feel if this ended as a usual date with Neal. Would she go through her standard emotional shrug? Would her baseline belief, in not being hot enough, allow her to move on? Or had she now been raised so high that the fall would be fatal?

They lay side by side, not touching. Neal's breathing was slowing, quieting.

"Neal," she said, "Did this mean anything?"

This derailed Neal from his weighing of three options: Give her cabfare now, let her stay and give her cabfare in the morning, or drive her home himself in the morning. He rolled his head towards her. "Um. Sure it did." Did that sound cool enough? He didn't think so.

"You've never treated me like this before." She took a breath before resuming. "You never needed to. Do you want me think that, th-that, how you think about me is different now?"

His mind clicked into his long-standing dismissal of this kind of talk. Women and feelings, yeah whatevs. But one thing had changed.

He wanted, needed, not to hurt Felicia.

Cupid no longer had to reinforce that.

Neal tried to retreat mentally, remind himself of how he had his life exactly the way he wanted it. But he had difficulty thinking in detail about the other women in his spreadsheet, and how he got what he wanted from them. Felicia's secret self didn't just intrigue him. His curiosity to see more of it had become a desire.

He decided that he had to figure this out. And that meant spending more time with Felicia. This version of her wasn't passive, waiting to see what he wanted, quietly accepting whatever happened. Not someone to whom he could send a 'U up?' text, expecting an easy lay. While still wary of the entire world of women, Neal was willing to explore the world of this open, energetic Felicia Tattersall.

"Yeah, maybe it means something," he said. "If it does for you."

Almost angry, she said, "Assume it does. Keep talking."

"I think...we ought to get to know each other better. You know, I've, like, never seen you the way you were at the bar." He smiled, and hoped she'd take his tone as lightening the mood. "All this time, you've been a woman of mystery."

She enjoyed that, but said, "While we get to know each other, who else will you date?"

It took him two seconds to say, "Nobody."

It took her three to say, "Really?"

Cupid was ready to prompt him. But on his own, Neal said, "Yeah. This is about you and me."

Neal winced at the sound of that. It was dorky, there was none of his cool delivery.

Yet Felicia sat up, eyes wide, and said, "You mean that!" She started that as a question, but didn't finish it that way.

Neal was surprised by the sudden presentation of her upper half. He realized that it probably deserved more than a 6.

Eros asked Cupid, "Should the mortal's phallus be engorged again?"

Quickly Cupid said, "Not by you!"

Neal sat up, enjoying the sight of her, but looked her in the eyes, and said, "Yeah."

Felicia hugged him.

Psyche subtly reminded Felicia that, once she knew more about Neal, there might be aspects she wouldn't like.

Felicia seemed to acknowledge this, but it didn't stop her from lunging forward and getting Neal on his back.

As sheets were snatched away, and skins met in passion, Eros saw the erection generated by the man (and the woman), and said, "I'm done here. Remember to praise me lavishly in your report, demigods."

"We shall," said Cupid, as he and Psyche watched their handiwork shown above the altar. They smiled at the wild, exuberant coupling that the mortals crafted on their own.

When Eros was gone, Valentinus said, "Most unpleasant. Not at all like that Krishna fellow, over at Nirvana."

Cupid said, "Krishna was never humiliated by having his realm reduced."

Psyche gave him a flirty smile. "Regrets?"

Cupid's smile was larger. "None."

When the mortals finally calmed, Valentinus said, "Well done, Olympians. Enjoy your respite." He started towards his chamber.

"There's more," said Cupid, still facing the altar.

"There is?" asked Valentinus, stopping, looking back.

He saw that time in the mortals' realm had advanced, well past midnight. The bedroom was dark.

He saw the male stir.

Neal stared at the ceiling. He determined that greater closeness with Felicia involved taking chances, and dealing with unknowns.

At work, he acted cocky, fearless, even reckless, as he pursued high-value arbitrage. In fact, he never made a move without knowing all relevant data, and ensuring that the greatest risk was on the other side.

He needed to know, now, what the numbers could tell him. That might help clear his head.

He got out of bed. A glance showed him that Felicia still slept.

He went to the living room, picked up the remote, and woke the computer. The spreadsheet glowed on the flatscreen.

Valentinus yelled, "What are you doing?" He rushed up to the demigods. "This could ruin everything!"

"It could," said Psyche calmly. "But they must have truth, and the chance to use free will."

Valentinus narrowed his eyes. "Are you this confident that they'll find the best of their multitudes?"

"We are," said Cupid. "Perhaps not tonight, but soon."

Neal studied Felicia's data. The 3 in self-esteem was clearly wrong, and perhaps also the 9 in desperation. The requisite changes would probably get her red-lined. But he thought he could upgrade some of her physical scores, and maybe add a new column, for 'skin' or 'touch,' where he would give her at least an 8--

"What is that?"

The voice behind him was low, and tremulous.

Jolted, Neal tried to blank the screen. But he dropped the remote.

"That must be me," said Felicia, walking slowly towards the spreadsheet. "Not very many Felicias in the world." She already knew what this must be, but shock slowed the full impact.

Neal scrambled to get the remote, muttering, "Fucking shit." It had bounced under the table next to the recliner.

"Carol...Alice...Teresa...on and on..." Felicia seemed to glide, while stepping closer, as if in the dream that this wasn't. "So many numbers."