The Passenger Ch. 09

Suddenly she grew tense and I felt her pussy clasp my thumb, and she shuddered as she came with a long, soft "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh..." Her hips bucked and her butt clenched rhythmically as her inner muscles contracted again and again around my thumb. I felt the flood of her release wet my hands as I continued to move them, taking her all the way through her climax.

Then her contractions subsided and she started to relax. She shuddered and moaned again when I withdrew my thumb from her hot, wet center. My hand was wet, and the towel was soaked all the way through. My thumb coated in her thick, sweet nectar, and I stuck it in my mouth to enjoy one of the most wonderful tastes I've ever known.

Then I bent down and kissed her hair, her neck, her back. She smiled, her eyes still closed, and her "Hmmm..." was dreamy and content.

When I looked at her face again, she was asleep.

I got up from the bed as carefully as I could, so as not to disturb her. A quick shower later I moved the bedding to cover her before I lay down beside her and closed my eyes. The warmth of her body and the fragrance of her hair made it all the way into my dreams.

* * *

"You're analyzing it far too much," I said, the following morning.

We were sitting at the mess table, the remains of breakfast before us.

"What do you mean?"

He voice was as despondent as the look on her face.

"You're trying to figure out which part of you is artificial," I explained. "Or rather, which part of your thinking, your decision-making, your behavior or whatever, is software. You're worried that what you think is not real, but merely the result of a mechanistic process governed by rules and algorithms. Am I wrong?"

She slowly shook her head.

"Okay," I went on. "So you're really worried that you don't really think, but that you only think that you think."

"That's what you think."

She didn't smile, but at least it was the sort of lighthearted comment that told me she was resisting what otherwise ould have been a headfirst slide into depression.

"No, that's what my extensive deductive powers tell me," I said with great dignity.

She made a face.

"You're not always right."

"No. I'm not," I admitted. "Sometimes I'm wrong, because I'm not a machine. And you are wrong right now, in thinking that you might be one. That in itself proves that you aren't. QED."

That got a rueful grin out of her.

"You're just using circular logic to cheer me up."

I shook my head.

"Nope. I don't have to. What you think of as logical is already completely twisted into a pretzel."

I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

"Look," I said then. "I know what last night cost you. Or at least I think I do. But what you don't realize is that really nothing has changed. I still love you just as much. You're still the same wonderful person to me that you were yesterday. What you're so afraid of is simply not happening."

"Not right now, you mean."

I reached out, took her hand in mine.

"Anne, I'm not afraid of it. Why are you?"

She looked at me, opened her mouth, hesitated.

I squeezed her hand.

"Just tell me, Anne."

She took a deep breath.

"I'm just... Harvey, what if this goes on until it ruins everything? With you and me, I mean."

"Why should it? It doesn't bother me."

She gazed at the bulkhead, thinking.

"When people change..." she then said slowly, "I mean, when people grow apart over the years... That can become a real problem in a relationship, you know?"

I nodded.

"True," I admitted. "It's possible. But everyone changes throughout life, Anne. The trick to maintaining a relationship is to do it together."

"Right. But today I have less in common with you and more in common with that nav computer over there than I did yesterday. And that worries the hell out of me."

I shook my head.

"No, you don't. You've used skills and capabilities you didn't realize you had, but the only way that has changed you is the way in which every experience changes us a little. Other than having a new experience and knowing a little more about what you've always been capable of, you're still you. And I'm still looking at the woman I love."

She tried to smile, but it didn't really work.

"You always know what to say, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"I'm just saying it the way I see it. Looking at myself, I also see a different person than I was, oh, twenty years or so ago. I've got more skills, more experience, more self-confidence. I'm also less fit, not as strong as I used to be, and I don't do all-nighters that easily anymore. Pretty much like everyone else, I guess."

This time it was her turn to squeeze my hand.

"You're doing fine, my captain," she said, with a soft smile that worked a lot better this time.

"But..."

"But what?" I asked.

Once again she hesitated.

"It's not just last night," she said finally. "It's been going on for a while. Last night was just... a crisis, I guess. I've been more and more aware of what goes on inside me. It's like I can see the cogs turning sometimes. I mean..." She took a deep breath. "Okay, let's be totally honest here for a moment. My body was made for sex. Literally. But so is my mind. Yes, yes, I know, it's become more than just that. But the sex part is still in there. I can almost see the way my brain controls my body. I can almost see the routines kick in that make my nipples hard and my pussy wet. I can almost see the signals running from my clit to my brain and from my brain to my clit. And it's... weird."

"Maybe I need to distract you more, then," I said.

That got a real smile out of her.

"I think you're doing fine in that department, love," she said.

"I should hope so. That doesn't mean I'll stop trying to do better, though. But seriously, what you're saying here is that your body and your brain work the same as it does in every human. Anne, the brain has always been the biggest sex organ. And it's always been controlling our behavior and our bodies in ways we don't even realize. The difference with you is that you're so focused on your AI... heritage, I suppose the word is, that it's come to dominate your thinking."

We were sitting at the mess table, the remains of breakfast before us.

I took her other hand, holding them both.

"Anne, have you ever stopped to think how much the human brain is like a computer? Because it is. At the lowest level, my organic brain has a number of hardwired reflexes. Reflexes grown into the structure of the brain, that is. I touch something hot, and immediately my hand jerks back, even before I register the pain of burning my hand at a subconscious level. That's because that primitive low-level mechanism doesn't even involve the higher brain functions in those damage controlling reflexes. It's like the basic system and I/O routines hardwired into a computer. ROM, they used to call that in the old days, Read-Only Memory. Basic routines, nothing more. On top of that there's the computer's operating system, much like my subconscious. It's a layer that runs below the surface, in the background, facilitating higher functions but not under direct control of the operator. Not under my control, in other words. And the upper layer is the consciousness, which is much like the programs running in the foreground; the ones that you control and that you communicate with."

I smiled.

"So you see," I continued, "I've got more in common with that nav computer than you think. The difference is that the nav computer is fairly specialized. It is more suitable for some tasks, such as operating this ship, than my brain is. So it can focus more power on those specialized jobs. But my brain is capable of a lot of different things, and in that respect it's more powerful than the nav computer. But at the end of the day that 'puter and I have both been created in each other's image, so to speak."

"Okay, maybe so, but..."

"But nothing," I said firmly. "You've simply got more skills and possibilities than I do. Well, you know what? People are like that. Some are clever, some are dumb. Some are good at a lot of things, some are specialists. And some are savants, with photographic memories, or absolute hearing, or they can absorb the contents of an entire encyclopedia as quickly as they can read it, or whatever it is they can do. Yes, real savants are rare. Very rare. But they do exist. Does that make them less human? I don't think so. Does that make them less suitable to live with, or less attractive? Not in my book. Are you trying to tell me that it would matter to you?"

She slowly shook her head.

"No... No, I guess not."

"Good. So stop worrying. You'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"You don't know that."

I nodded.

"True," I admitted. "I don't. Life is like that. Show me someone who really does know what the future holds and I'll show you a psychic. And since nobody has ever been able to demonstrate psychic powers under lab conditions, I wish you good luck finding someone like that."

I leaned forward, looked into those deep green pools that were her eyes.

"Anne, the future is never certain. But you can't let that stop you. Yes, it's always a jump in the dark. But you have to take that jump. We all do. But you won't be doing it alone, if I have anything to say about it."

And suddenly we were in each other's arms, and she held me as if her life depended on it, her face against my shoulder. I gently caressed her hair, her shoulders, her back. It took a long time before I felt her begin to relax.

"How do you manage to always say the right thing?" she whispered.

"It's a gift," I replied modestly.

"You're awesome, my captain," she said.

"And so are you, my loyal crew. I love you."

We held each other for a long while. When we finally sat back down again, we sat closer together than before. Our hands touched, and our eyes kept finding each other. We didn't speak. We didn't have to. Eventually she took my hand and led me into the cabin. Still looking into my eyes without saying a word, she began to undo the fastener at the front of my flight suit,

A few moments later our clothes were in a heap on the floor, and she pushed me back on the bed and knelt on it, her knees on either side of my hips, straddling me. Then she bent down and caressed my face. Then she kissed me, hard and passionately. Or was it really just passion? There was something urgent in that kiss, a need, something... desperate, maybe. I put my arms around her back and held her, while her teeth ground against mine and her tongue attacked mine with something more than just passion; something that was more like a need, perhaps even a hunger.

Couples have sex for lots of reasons. Plain, simple carnal lust and a desire for physical pleasure undoubtedly tops the list many times. And when you're madly, wildly, deeply in love with someone, then the desire to experience the deepest intimacy together is pretty much a given. Later, as the years go by, that intimacy is a great way to express your enduring love for one another, and to maintain that closeness and trust that lies at the basis of any good, lasting relationship.

But sometime it's just a much-needed source of comfort and reassurance. And I had a feeling that that was exactly what Anne needed right now.

I put my one hand around her back and reached up with the other to stroke her hair and to caress her face. I returned her kisses, but in a more gentle way, trying to put all my love for her into those kisses. I moved my hands slowly, my touch tender and loving.

After a while I felt her relax. She began to return my caresses and my embrace, and the round, soft, yielding forms of her body gradually moulded themselves against me. I put both my arms around her and held her for a long time. Her lips were soft against mine.

"Harvey..." she whispered.

"Sssshhhh..."

I stroked her hair.

"I love you, Anne," I said softly. "I love you and I always will. No matter what. And I'll stand by you, no matter what. I don't know what I would do if I ever were to lose you."

She looked up and gave me slightly teary smile.

"I know," she said softly. "So why am I so afraid of losing you?"

"Don't be. I'm not going to go anywhere without you. Ever."

"Even knowing what I am?"

"Of course. I know exactly what you are, Anne. You're the most wonderful woman I know, and you make me happy, happier than I've been in a very long time. Fine, so you have some artificial implants and you've got some capabilities that are rare among humans. So what? I love you. I want you in my life. I want to be in yours."

Her eyes looked into mine, and I could happily have drowned myself in those deep, green pools. I reached out to wipe away a tear as it slowly trickled down her face.

"You want me?" she said, very softly. "For better or for worse?"

I looked into her eyes and nodded, slowly and deliberately.

"I do," I said.

"Then I'm yours, Hervey. So take me. Make me yours. Make me feel it."

I put both my arms around her and rolled both of us over on the bed, reversing our positions; she on her back, me on top of her. I kissed her face. The traces of her tears tasted salty.

"And I am yours, my love," I said.

Again I caressed her hair while I gently kissed her. I looked into her eyes and I saw my love for her reflected there. My fingertips traced the side of her head, her face, the line of her jaw, her neck... She looked like she needed to be kissed a whole lot more right then, so I did. Her lips were soft against mine.

"I'm not kissing you often enough," I said softly, a little later.

She smiled lazily.

"Oh, I don't think I have anything to complain about."

"Well," I said, "I'm going to make a point of kissing you more often from now on. Just to be sure."

She put her arm around my neck and gently pulled me toward her until her lips touched mine again. Her mouth opened and when our tongues found each other they began that wonderful, intimate dance, but the dance was slow and tender this time, not the frenzied fandango of so many times before.

Our kiss deepened, and my hand slowly wandered down from the side of her face until my fingertips stroked her neck, then found the hollow of her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder and finally the swell of her breast. Tracing gentle, slow, loving patterns on the smooth, curvy skin there, I felt her respond: something in the way she breathed, something the way she moved, something in the way her body lay against mine... I caressed the round, soft yet firm flesh of her breast; across the top, alomg the bottom, tracing the curvy outline, and slowly moving in toward the center.

She moaned softly into our kiss when my fingertips finally touched her nipple, which was already standing up firm and proud, and for a while I just stroked and gently rubbed that firm, sensitive nub. Her breathing deepened, and every so often she moaned gently, especially when I took her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and gently squeezed it, rolled it and pulled it, and I felt it grow even harder as I did so.

After a while my hand slid down further, across the smooth expanse of her stomach, then sideways to the outer curve of her hip. Gently stroking her skin there, my caressing hand wandered down as far as I could reach, which was to just above her knee. Then I moved inward, slowly traveling up along the inside of her leg, stroking, caressing, teasing... She spread her legs slightly to allow my hand to go where she wanted it, and she had her eyes shut; her arms around me holding me close.

Her thighs parted further as my questing fingers caressed their way to the center between them, but the closer they came to their target, the slower they moved, and she squirmed gently under me with anticipation and impatience. But I slowed even further, teasing her, until my fingers were so close, so close, and yet so far...

Finally, at long last, I touched those soft, moist folds, and I felt the heat that infused them, radiating from her very core, and she twitched when she felt my touch there. Our kiss smothered her moan. I gently caressed the entrance to that most intimate part of her, and she moved under me as I ran my fingers up and down along her nether lips as lightly as possible. Soon I felt the first of her moisture, and the tip of my finger slipped between them. Her moans grew louder as my questing finger slowly ventured into that slick, warm wetness. Deeper and deeper between those soft folds my finger probed, caressing her velvety insides in slow, small circles, then out again and up, until my finger, covered in her rich, thick juices, found the tip of her clit. She shuddered gently as I touched it to spread the slick wetness across its smooth, taut surface, and her soft cry, muffled through our kiss, told me all I needed to know.

I gently broke our kiss. Then I pushed myself up a little and let my lips travel downward across her body, pausing briefly to kiss her breasts and give her hard nipples a playful lick or two. Then I moved further south, and she opened her legs wide as I traversed the smooth expanse of her stomach. Not one to ignore a hint like that, I wasted no further time but knelt down between her spread thighs, bent forward, and gently kissed the hot, wet center between them. Her pussy lips had flowered open and her clit was larger now than when I had first felt it with my fingertips.

The thick, sweet nectar pooling between those sweet pink folds wet my lips, and I dipped my tongue deeply into it. Even now I still can't think of anything I've ever had in my mouth that tastes that heavenly. I wanted more of it, much more, and I began to lick her there between those lovely, sweet bits of pink flesh, and they were smooth and velvety against my tongue. She began to moan softly but insistently, and her honey flowed more freely in response to the caresses of my tongue. When I looked up at her pink little pleasure button, I found that it wasn't so little anymore. It had come peeping from under its hood and now stood up hard and proud, begging my tongue to touch it.

I waited a few moments, just to tease her a little longer, but then I relented and finally licked across the tip of her clit; its hard surface smooth and taut under my tongue. Her moan became a cry and she shuddered. I began to lick her clit in earnest now, my tongue touching it lightly but with increasing pressure and drawing small, slow circles across that most sensitive part of her. She moaned softly but constantly now, and her juices flowed like a river.

Slowly and carefully I inserted two fingers of my left hand into her hot, sopping wet hole and began to pump them in and out of her, slowly, gently, while pulling up the hood of her clit with the fingers of my other hand and licking her clit with a ever-increasing pressure now, my rhythm speeding up a little and becoming more workman-like.

"Oh... Oh gods, yes, just like that... Yes... Oh, gods, yes... Oh... Ohhh..."

Her moans became cries which grew louder as I my fingers moved faster, as my tongue moved across the taut, hard tip of her clit more firmly, my fingers pulling the hood up and down... She shuddered, and I knew she was close now, so close...

"Ohhh... Ohyesohyesohgodsyes... OoooooOOOHHHH!"

Her body tensed up until she almost lifted herself off the bed, and I felt her pussy clamp down on my fingers. A huge gush of her sweet, thick, velvety-smooth juices flowed around my fingers and out of her, and I felt her clit pulse under my tongue as she came.

I held on for dear life while I continued to pump my fingers in and out of her as her pussy squeezed them, keeping my movements in sync with her contractions, and I kept my tongue flicking across her pulsating clit as well as I could, taking her all the way through her orgasm as she came and came, prolonging it as much as possible while the juices of her ecstasy covered my hands and face.