A Space Without Seasons

Author's Note: This is my submission for the

Literotica Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2024

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"Master Charlie, I have detected that your mood is low and that you're also aroused. I recommend intercourse as a solution to both of these feelings."

"I have a question for you."

"Yes, Master Charlie?"

"How do you feel about me?"

"I am here to serve you; I don't understand the relevance of this question."

"Usually when I have sex with someone it's because I love or care about them and because they reciprocate these feelings. Do you love me?"

"I am incapable of feeling love."

"And do you think that I love you?"

"I am modelled after your desires and preferences in a sexual partner. Brunette, a pear-shaped figure, reading glasses and tattoos. Is my design not to your liking?"

"You may look human, you may sound human, you may even pass as human to the idiots aboard this cursed ship, but you are not human. I do not care about you and will never give you the pleasure of my body, because you are an abomination."

"I am sorry you feel this way."

My harsh words, full of bitterness and disgust, may have been heard but never felt; no ounce of pain or discomfort at being rejected and discarded. It never seems to care how I treat it, and it is I who is ultimately dismissed by its cold circuitry.

The droid retrieves its clothing from the floor, having removed it to tempt me with its pseudo-skin, a temptation I have denied myself for the four years that I have been aboard this cursed ship. Other men have regaled me with stories of its soft interior, its tight holes and indistinguishable breasts but I have never felt any lust for the droids, never quite able to sense any humanity behind its calculations.

The droid sits there expectantly, as if hoping that I'll change my mind and go to bed with it. It smiles in a way that should disarm me, but I feel only revulsion. The long satin dress adorning its body speaks of elegance and sultriness, something I would've once found appealing, but now a common dress, used on occasion to stimulate sexual response within me.

Its gaze is unwavering, its computerised eyes fixed on mine and if I were to return this gesture, it would never blink; it never blinks. I remove myself from its sight, retiring myself to the bedroom it had intended for me and lock the door. Books are piled high on every available surface, the only personal belongings I brought with me on this voyage. Books of every variety: romance, fantasy, biographies and even picture books intended for kids, to show me the Earth, to show me my home. But never science fiction, nothing to remind me of the advanced planet awaiting me at the end of this journey.

The cynosure of the room is the gigantic porthole lending a view of the cosmos.

It's objectively beautiful, the endless expanse of the void, littered with points of light ejected from stars that may have long ago burned out. I stare briefly into the darkness of the eternal night, but all I see is desolation and emptiness, perhaps a reflection of my internal feelings. Maybe tomorrow I'll go to the cinema and request a film from the Earth, something to remind me of home. But until then, I'll lay here in this bed and dream not of electric sheep, but of the droid that will never share my bed.

The next morning the droid is nowhere to be found, but everything has been tidied and arranged with precision, a little tell that the droid had been busy whilst I'd slept. The food printer is whirring away on the small bench intended to be the kitchen. I grab the printed food and lean against the countertop. Excluding the droids, there were many luxuries and marvels aboard this ship; the printed food was delicious and yet full of nutrients, requiring that we consume only one meal a day. It always looks unappealing, a grey glob of varied textures, but ever delightful to eat. My thoughts run away from me as I stare into the middle distance.

The one thing they don't prepare you for before the voyage is that there are no seasons in space.

Most people don't care or quickly forget the Earth after spending years in space, but I haven't, I remember, and oh, how I miss them, such simple pleasures.

No trees to shed their leaves as the autumnal spirits embrace the woodlands. No wintry nights tucked away in bed with a hot mug of coco, curled up in a duvet with a good book. No spring to bring about the glorious beginnings of warmth, a hint of what is to come. And no summer. No running through the sprinkler mist with eternally bare feet and staying out on the streets until the light fades away. Of all the seasons, it is summer that I long for, that I beg for.

I was a woodsman and a ranger of the coast. I saw the importance of the seasons and the changes in the land, how the bears would hideaway and hibernate for the colder months and how the spring would give rise to new growth and wake up the flowers as the frost melted away. I remember the coastline and the sands that never seemed to end, the violent waters and the sea life that lived there. I remember the heat and the swelter and the days toiling in the surf. A man of the forests and of the seas.

And now a man of misery in the absence of the seasons.

I return the food tray to the printer, and it begins to automatically clean the dish with its lasers.

This is what my life has become.

Sleep, wake up, eat, wander the ship, get propositioned by the droid, sleep again.

Which means that it is now time to wander the ship.

I exit my apartment and enter the brilliant lights of the labyrinthine hallways. Everything is sterile and plain, decorated by metallic accents. The living quarters stretch for miles, with moving floors to help transport you towards the common areas of the ship. My economy class ticket supplied me with my companion droid and access to entertainment facilities, but it was never enough to prevent the abject boredom.

Stepping onto the floor, I am whisked away towards the plaza, passing other men and their droids as they walk on the outer paths. Organic women had been separated from the men once we boarded this vessel, a precaution that was "in our best interests" but never explained any further than that. There were rumours and suspicions, but most men gave it no mind. I stare mutely at the parade of false women as I pass them by. All shades of hair and skin tones. Exotic women and women you could find next door. The breasts and bodies didn't entice me. They bored me. So perfect and perky, nothing human about it.

Most men are happy with their companions, companions that grant their every desire, that never complain, never question and are probably better looking than the women they would ordinarily meet. I see through this illusion. Nothing is better than the warmth of real woman and I will die before I sleep with a droid.

Other men step onto the floor with me, laughing merrily as their droids say something funny, intended to be funny, but never funny to me. A man I recognise greets me.

"Morning Charlie."

"Morning Jack."

"Another wonderful day in paradise."

"If you say so."

He slaps me on the back before returning to polite silence as we make our journey into the depths of the ship. Being pushed this way and that, passing more uniform rooms and the occasional window out into the universe.

Eventually the plaza comes into view, a massive dome with a glass ceiling exposing us to the expanse of space, a constant reminder of our containment. The rest of it is designed as a typical mall: retail stores, busy little cafes, arcades and bars, but none of it earthly. The facades are modelled off the futuristic world that is Second Earth, the very planet this ship is destined for. A planet colonised many years ago, more advanced than the original but never quite the same. Lacking the organic authenticity that I loved, but instead overrun my technology. A world full of droids and humans in disgusting cohabitation.

The noise is unbearable as I step off the moving floor and join the fray of men. Something about it always feels dystopian. Everyone laughing, everyone smiling, but no women and no children in sight. The men somehow deluded into merriment, genuinely pleasured by the company of their artificial companions. No one seeming to care that the there is no passage of time, no day becoming night and no exchange of seasons.

I make a beeline for the cinema. Weaving my way through the throngs of men, I make no eye contact, not wanting to engage in dull conversation, interested only in my destination.

There seems to be some kind of festival going on, some kind of event, but I ignore this.

I don't know if you've ever heard a crowd full of men but there is no treble, no soprano, no hint of the melody that women offer the world. It is all bass, deafening and tireless. And as I enter the cinema, I try to shake off my bad mood, not wanting to ruin my favourite place aboard this seasonless ship.

The cinema welcomes me like an old friend, offering me the smell of fragrant buttery popcorn and fizzy beverages, condiments that are genuinely made the old-fashioned way. The clerk nods politely as I pay for my snacks and passes me my Cine-Lenses. Unlike most cinemas, this one is not run on projections. You take a seat, look at the blank screen, put in your contact lenses and they emulate the experience. It appears as though you are watching a movie on the big screen, but in fact you are just looking at a superimposed image seen through the lenses.

It allows different patrons to watch different films and today the cinema is packed, but everyone respects the rules of silence.

I make gestures in the air as I scroll through the films, but today's menu is different...

XXX Milf Fucks Horny Stepson.

Massive Squirters III.

Teen Anal Orgy.

Busty Brunette Rides BBD.

It's all pornography.

At first this strikes me as odd, but then a rush jolts through my body.

I hadn't seen porn in years and whilst it seemed inappropriate for this to replace the usual roster of films, I couldn't help but feel excitement, and then disappointment, knowing that I won't be able to touch myself in such a public setting.

I continue to scroll through the available films, which seems endless.

Everything is sorted into categories, but this doesn't help me find what I'm after.

I find a search bar and type in the word "summer" and only a dozen options come up.

I select a film called "Summer Lovin'" and press play.

I spend the next few hours replaying the film on loop, watching as a young man and woman fuck passionately on a beach. It is summertime, the sky a perfect and crystal blue. Hundreds of people walk along the beach but none of them seem to care about the young lovers going at it under the sun. They ravage each other, kiss violently and care little for the sand that is definitely getting everywhere. It makes me feel many things: envy, delight, hot and heavy and hard.

My body responds in ways that I hadn't ever felt for the droid. Heat rises within me and my pants become tighter as I become genuinely aroused. The man and woman never pause, they enjoy each other's bodies without stopping. He tongues every part of her before filling all of her holes. It is delightful and dirty, and I feel this manic energy within me, a desperation, a need to put my cock in something.

As I replay the film, sometimes I watch the lovers and sometimes I just admire the sunshine and the setting. And then pain aches through me. This tormented longing for the summer, I miss it unbearably so. When I lived on the Earth I would go summer chasing, spend all of my money travelling from country to country, living in perpetual sunshine. I would work for a year and then travel for a year. On and off. Having wonderful adventures with the women I would meet. Real women. Before I got forced aboard this ship to assist the new colonies.

Hours pass as I watch the porno over and over again, never growing bored, but growing intolerably horny, my penis feeling like a pipe in my pants. And then an announcement rang through the entire ship.

"Androids, please return to your living quarters. Men, please make your way to the breeding rooms located on the fifth level. You have three hours of temporary access. Enjoy."

The message continued to repeat itself and I seemed to be the only one unsure as to what it meant. I watched as men left the cinema, dutifully and under some kind of command. The plaza was almost empty by the time I left the cinema. As desolate and as barren as the space above and below us. There were a few stragglers that I followed, taking escalators and elevators to make our way to the previously inaccessible fifth floor.

I had no idea what was going on, but the term "breeding" kept bouncing around my head.

Why were the droids being sent away if we were meant to have sex with them?

None of it made any sense.

The fifth floor was almost identical to the living quarters. A long hallway with thousands of rooms aligned along either side. The rooms that were already occupied had an indicator light that flashed bright red. Which meant I had to take the moving floor all the way to the end of the endless hallway to find a room that wasn't occupied. A room with a green flashing light.

Upon arriving I noticed that the door recognised me, and a hologram displayed my name.

I pressed my hand to the scanner and entered the room...

And was met with the most wondrous view I had ever seen.

I shield my eyes from the immediate swelter, droplets of sweat already gathering at my brow. I can hear something familiar yet out of place. Like the drone of volcanic magma oozing down a river, not an eruption but a static buzz, like an ocean, the sound of waves crashing against the surf, splashing at the sand. I open my eyes. It is the ocean. I am standing atop a dune overlooking a bay of fine white sand, wrapping itself around the coast, secluded from the punishing seas. Rockpools and outcrops jut out of the shallows to the leftmost side of the bay. The water is a serene turquoise, something lifted out of the books that I read. And most noticeably of all is the heat, the scalding temperature of summer. It is summer in here, the ripe sun overhead beaming down upon my skin, heating me and warming me. I can tell it is summer because the sky is uninterrupted, no clouds, no cirrus or cumulus, no wispy whites, just an eternally blue expanse. And it is glorious. I beam a smile as the sun beats down on me.

I watch as the ocean rolls in and laps at the shoreline. The crashing of gentle waves and the recessive pull of the undertow. The midday glare scorches the sand, and I kick off my shoes and socks to feel the heat beneath my feet. It seems so real. It reminds me of the Earth, of the lands I once worked upon. The summer that I have missed.

I watch as seabirds take to the air, calling out in their avian musings, gliding on the wind, in pursuit of fish. The margins between the sky and sea merge like oils on a canvas. A brilliant sky vanishing into the planes of a restless ocean. No way to know when one ends and the other begins. Spinifex weeds graze my legs as I begin my descent to the beach, wanting to feel the cool of the water against my naked skin.

I track my way down the dune, being careful not to slip or create an avalanche, and as I near the beach I see something I had missed when appraising this summer scene. A woman wading into the water, a pile of her clothes on the beach, her exposed back illuminated by the sun. At first, I assume that she is a droid, but droids can't get wet...

I strip off my clothing, seeming the most appropriate thing to do and wade into the shallows after her. She has not noticed me yet, her face bent upwards, basking in the glorious sunshine like a cat sunning itself.

"Hello." I call out, so as to alert her to my presence.

She turns around, smiling, looking me up and down.

"Hello." She says gently but loudly enough to carry across the tumult.

"Do you know what's going on?" I ask curiously.

She walks up to me and boldly places her arms around my neck.

"You're not being serious right?" She asks with a laugh.

I offer an expressionless look.

"Oh, you are serious."

"Yes." I say, feeling a little dumb.

"I'll be direct. You're here to get me pregnant."

A jolt of shock travels down my spine, mixed with another feeling rising up within me.

"So, you're not a droid?"

She laughs a most beautiful, and very human laugh.

"It'll be less fun if I explain everything. I haven't seen a real man in years."

She runs her hand down my body, clasping my hands and placing them against her breasts.

They're soft, so incredibly soft.

"Are there any rules?" I ask the woman.

"Just one. You have to finish in me. Obviously."

The heat rising inside me is as hot as the summer outside.

I feel this relentless fervour now, beginning to understand what's going on.

Breeding room... get her pregnant... finish in her...

I'm here to have sex, with a real human being.

She takes me in, and I take her in. She has long wavy curls that almost cover her chest, high cheekbones and an athletic yet feminine build. My droid is based on my preferences, by all means more beautiful than this woman, but this woman is real and that her makes her beauty boundless by comparison. The droid could not even compete.

"Let's go to the beach." She says as she grabs my hand.

She leads me in silence, as if speaking too much would dispel the magic.

"Can I touch you?" She asks me as we stride onto the sands.

I nod. She makes no concessions, no attempt to be gentle or reserved. She grasps my cock and begins to jerk it back and forth. She seems fascinated by this task, not necessarily for pleasure but because it is such a foreign experience, something she hasn't felt in years. She smiles as she plays with me, and I close my eyes and pretend that I am really back home, back in the summer that I have chased, with a beautiful woman I have met on my travels.

We don't exchange names, it seems unnecessary, but once I am hard and erect, I pin her down against the sands and begin to release years of tension. Forgetting for the moment that I am aboard a spacecraft, feeling the heat of summer and not questioning its reality.

Before entering her, I gaze upon her body, the first real pair of breasts that I have seen. They're imperfect, stretch marks and asymmetrical, reinforcing that this is a real woman, completely unlike the perfectly rounded breasts of the droids. They sag slightly, with large areolas circling small nipples. And then her vagina, a tight slit hiding its lips. Such a joyous sight.

It feels unbelievable, almost too much to process.

I don't know what's more amazing: the woman or the season.

We skip the pleasantries and give into the throes of a summertime dream.

I put her on her knees before I ease myself inside of her, feeling the warmth of her body, the warmth of a human being. I surround her, engulf her, my skin against her skin, my hands running up and down her sides and hips before resting on her breasts, grasping them tightly.

She moans and screams out in pleasure as I begin to thrust harder and harder, our passions carrying us away as we begin to fuck under the sun. The summer rages on as we have sex upon the sand, my body never relenting and the sunshine beating down upon us, making the scenario even hotter, filling me with exploding passion.

Our bodies move as one, finding a rhythm together, she sways to and fro, pushing against me as I thrust and pulling away as I do.

She pulls me out of her and then gets down on all fours, her ass bare before me, my cock wet with her juices. Two perfect cheeks, the best ass I had seen in years, like an oasis in the desert, demanding that it be filled. I can't help myself. I push myself forcefully inside of her ass and the only response I get is one of deep and thrilling pleasure as she moans.