David made his way back to his big fancy loft that he bought with all the money he received, definitely not all legally. He greeted the small tin that held his mother's ashes and went up the spiral staircase to plop down on the hovering mattress.
After stripping himself of all clothes, David reached a large hand over to pick up his holo-visor. Braindances were not always the most legal, but he was about to start one up. After a long buffering screen, a pre-rendered scene popped up. This one was custom made by his favorite editor. Tykka Peicur.
The small room, entirely rendered in his visor and all he could see now, was pink and blue with splashes of purple were the lights clashed. The long smooth white couch lined the wall, the couch's throwpillows fuzzy unlike the leather itself. And there she sat, fully nude. Short and thick legs tucked up under herself. A comfy position. Like she had been waiting there all night, just for him.
David, in his actual bed in his actual loft, placed the circular dome machine over his erection. He didn't remember the name of the product now, but everyone had one these days. It was called a cyber-flesh but he hated the way that sounded. Having taken it from his ripper-doc. David's new toy began to stroke his cock as he watched the brain dance scene play out. Vibrating, pulsing, suctioning. He could feel the physical sensations, feel the emotions, feel the thoughts dancing through his brain. Perhaps why they called it a Brain Dance in the first place.
The little woman with white skin and pale white-blonde hair sat curled up on David's couch. It was a mirage, a visage, an illusion of Becca in the nude. And how beautiful she was. Though he never dare tell her in person or aloud. God forbid.
She was so short. So soft. So stark. White hair. Blue and pink tattoos across her neck and her stomach. A giant pink note on her thigh that read PK DICK. In the visor scene, Becca began opening her thighs for David. Beckoning to him. Her slit was clean shaven and smooth, just as he imagined it. All this was fake of course. Manufactured. He didn't care. The edgerunner wanted to edge himself.
Becca cooed at him. Licked two fingers with a long tongue. Pushing them up into herself. Her clothing was always minimal. She preferred to wear black bras and underwear, like she wore the time he visited her apartment to deliver a package from Maine. But here in this BD she was stark nude. On display just for him.
David thought she was so gorgeous in her kitsch high collar jacket. Greens and blues and pinks going all the way to her waistline. He loved putting his strong hands on that waistline. Bringing her back against him anytime she tried to get in a fight. He was put in charge of 'babysitting' her according to Maine. But did the leader of their little operation know he stroked himself to the short firecracker every night? Pictured her on her knees when he took a shower from another wild job? Moaned her name in the emptiness of his fancy new home?
