The Non-Standard Man Ch. 07

I pulled the next items. My hands felt cardboard.

They were not.

I stared at the pictures of Cicily, and Jason Wells. The photos were from different points of their lives. Cicily holding Jason as a baby, as a young child, at the airport with a backpack on Jason's shoulders. And other pictures of Jason; Jason playing with building blocks, holding a baseball bat, sitting at a computer. The last picture was of Andrew, and Jason. Jason was giving Andrew a hug.

Shit. Family photos.

Andrew had a family.

#

I finally found the sleep-aid, and jammed the capsules in my mouth without water. As my lids grew heavy, in the haze between wakefulness and sleep, I swore I heard the robot's voice.

"Go to sleep, Evaline, you have busy day tomorrow."

My eyes closed.

"It's okay, Evaline. I'm sorry, so very sorry. I shouldn't have frightened you. You should know I'd never hurt you."

I smiled at Andrew. We stood under some trees. "It doesn't matter. You are here now." I reached out, took his hand, and then wrapped my arms around him.

"But it does matter, Evaline. Something happened, something is wrong with me."

"Ssh, ssh," I said not wanting to waste this moment. I touched my lips to his, his marvelous robot lips, and teased his soft, and flexible tongue with mine.

"Make love to me, Andrew."

"Love? We can have sex. Do you want sex, Evaline?"

"What difference does it make? If feels the same to me. What you do feels like love."

"Evaline, Evaline," he said pulling my head to his chest. "I do not know what love is."

"Yes, you do. You show it to me each day, and in each thing you do for me, how you care for me."

"That's programming," he said.

"Can't be. You could serve me hamburger for dinner, but you feed me with Steak Au Poivre. You could buy a cake from a bakery, but you make me brownie cake. You could do a hundred things differently, but you always put in an extra effort. To make me happy. That's love, Andrew.

"Love is when you make an extra effort?"

"That's as good as definition as any."

"Let me show you some extra effort then."

He sank to his knees, facing my hips. Gently he unbuttoned my slacks; unzips, and then slips them off my legs. He kissed my mound, and slipped his tongue in between my folds. His eager tongue met my flesh in long, slow licks, seeking to reach in as far as he could. His warmth lights a fire between be legs as he pulls a leg over his shoulder.

My hands curl in his hair, grabbing fistfuls to support me as he slides, burying his face into my clit. I jumped when he put his mouth around, and sucked. The jolt from touching that sensitive button was too much. Yet, when he pulled away, I yearned for that sensation again.

Andrew clenched my ass, and then pulled his hands to the place where my butt meets my legs. He massages that sensitive area while he moves his tongue to my center, flicking his tongue, burying his nose in my clit. It is my fire that pushes my hips seeking the warmth, and pressure of Andrew's tongue. The electricity of his touch ignites my clit, sending pleasure through my body. He presses harder, urging me with his hands to ride his face, and he spears me with his tongue. My back arches, I clutch his hair, and rock my pussy as he holds me. I break apart s waves of heat crashed through my body.

With a panting breath, I shot upright in my bed, finding not Andrew between my legs, but my own hands. I fell backward into my pillows knowing I would be damned to this fate. Night after night I would lust after a thing I could not have. A frustrated cry escaped my lips while tears slid down my cheeks.