Adventures of 1m

At precisely 4:00am, my eyelids open. Thirty minutes remain.

I'm lying on my side in a luxuriously soft king size bed, fully naked save for my lover's arm, still draped over me from last night's intense sampling of new positions straight out of the kama sutra, and a pair of black thigh high fishnet stockings.

My attention turns to my lover's body, behind me. I gather he's still asleep, given the characteristic pattern of slow, heavy breathing. Knowing he's an early riser, I smoothly and efficiently slide out from under his arm, taking care not to wake him prematurely.

I quietly make my way to the kitchen, picking up various articles of discarded clothing along the way. His boxer briefs, t-shirt and shorts, I toss into a nearby hamper. The pair of shiny black high heels laying in the hallway get placed carefully by the front door, and my coordinated set of black satin panties, bra, and little black dress are laid flat over a chair in the entryway.

I suspect that he would prefer I wait just a bit longer to get dressed.

Making my way to the kitchen, I start in on a preset list of tasks including feeding the cat, setting out some fruit, and brewing a half pot of coffee.

While the coffee brews, I stand motionless at the counter. It is now 4:07am.

Twenty-three minutes remain.

I do not move, blink, or breathe a single simulated breath for the next five minutes. With nobody around to appreciate the effect, I prioritize saving a little battery life.

At 4:13am, I look down toward my right ankle and smile. My lover's cat is rubbing itself up against me in what is referred to as a "head bonk." I bend down and give the cat an affectionate scratch on the head and back with my meticulously manicured French tip nails.

As the coffee pot finishes percolating, I straighten up and smoothly retrieve a mug, the milk frother, and cream. After whipping up a nice froth and topping the cup with coffee, pouring so as to create a perfect heart on the surface, I make my way back to the bedroom.

My lover is just beginning to stir and stretch, yawning as he wakes. As I round the corner and come into view, hearing his movements through the sensitive microphones hidden just inside my ears, I seamlessly transition from the efficient gliding movement of a silent machine to a sultry, natural walking pattern.

I slide into the bed next to him, handing him the cup of coffee. He smiles at the heart and takes an appreciative sip, thanking me. Staring deep into his eyes, I breathe heavily, "Mmmm, anything for you, honey."

He takes one more sip, meeting my gaze.

I run the fingertips of my left hand up his inner thigh, lightly grazing his growing erection.

He sets the coffee on the bedside table, reaches a hand up and pulls me in by the back of the neck for a deep kiss.

Two small pumps whir into action in my torso, one sending a small amount of lubricant up to be released in my mouth, allowing our tongues to tickle and lap at each other amid a warm trickle that tastes of cherries.

The other pump proactively sends some of the fluid down to my synthetic vagina.

Just in case.

It is now 4:20am. Ten minutes remain.

We kiss passionately for a moment. Despite the lateness of the hour, my hand continues stroking his cock while his hands make their way eagerly up and down my back, squeezing my tone ass cheeks.

Heating elements in my groin activate, and as I push him to lie down on his back, I pause briefly to relay an automatic reminder.

"Sweetie, I do have to leave for work in ten minutes... unfortunately, this will have to be a quickie."

He just smiles, runs a hand up my side, and gives my breast a tender squeeze.

I smile back, straddle him and, holding his now fully erect cock in my hand, guide it into my warm, wet, and waiting pussy.

The sensor mesh in my artificial skin tracks every point of contact between my lover and I, from his hand on my lower back, to his fingers alternately pinching my nipples, to his nibbles on my earlobes to the head of his shaft pushing deeper into my... my... my...

My thoughts hiccup as I log an error from my vaginal wall sensors. There is a small gap in data from a region near the midpoint of my vaginal opening. Sensors near the lips and then further into my pelvis are providing normal feedback, however, so I happily continue pumping my hips in rhythm with his.

I throw my head back, my mouth wide open. I moan and utter increasingly loud phrases that I've learned to combine in just the right sequence to quickly bring him to the brink.

We buck like new lovers. My blemish-free thighs glide smoothly along his hips. Small pneumatic rings embedded around the length of my vagina alternately fill and empty, tensing and relaxing in sequence to complement his thrusts into my hips, simulating the most dynamic of pelvic floor muscles.

A flood of biometric data about my lover fills my digital mind. As he nears climax, I optimize my thrusts, breath, and expressions to match and build to a simultaneous orgasm.

"Oh baby, yes, just like that, just like that, right there, I'm going to come! I'm going to... to... to... toooooooooo..."

Just as we're about to peak, as he pumps harder and harder into my silicone pussy, a loose wire is jostled back into contact, and a flood of discontinuous sensory data from my vaginal wall hits my processors, causing a brief system error.

I disable power to the damaged sensor region, and file away the error log for later servicing.

However brief, the system lockup pushes him over the edge, and I meet his moans and grunts with a tensing of my simulated muscles, milking his throbbing manhood for all it's got. We hold each other tight in a blissful embrace.

One minute remains.

Outside, an unmarked autonomous transit van pulls quietly onto the delivery pad just in front of the modest home.

We gradually slow our thrusts, kissing each other deeply. My panting begins to slow, but without warning, my body locks up for a moment.

I smoothly pivot at the hips to a sitting position, still straddling my lover, looking rather happy to still be fully impaled on his swollen cock. My voice takes on a more impersonal, customer-service-y tone.

"Thank you for being a loyal SynthSuite client. Your session is now complete."

A small whirring sound, and a little panel in my chest retracts inward. All of my memories of the past three days with my lover vanish from my mind into a removable thumb drive that rises out of an access port now visible above my perky breasts.

"Private session data has been saved to your SynthSuite Memory Fob, which may now be removed safely."

I sit, smiling but not moving, while he reaches up and tenderly plucks the drive from the port in my chest. As it pops loose, my lips part and my eyes open wide as a small gasp escapes my mouth.

This behavior is unnecessary, technically speaking. But users who revel in my robotic nature tend to enjoy it.

All that remains in my internal storage is anonymized sensor and motor data, any logged errors, and a note for the Dialogue Department to review my humor catalog: previous user seems unresponsive to joke739.convo. Topic added for follow-up in next customer satisfaction survey.

I look down at the USER beneath me. He seems to be satisfied, casually turning his memory fob over in his fingers. I place my hands on his chest for balance, and smoothly extract myself from his pelvis. It would appear a sexual encounter ran long, and this is typical. A brief grace period has proven to lead to fewer complaints regarding last-minute interactions.

I efficiently make my way to the entry hallway, and redress in the lingerie, cocktail dress, and heels that are placed about the chair. Looking every bit the hot date I must have been portraying last night, I turn to the USER, now standing in the hallway as he admires my chassis. I smile and thank him once again for his business.

He blows me a kiss.

I open the front door and stroll out smoothly toward the unmarked van. Without any USER details, my thoughts simply settle on one question: Did I perform as expected?

Before I make the short distance to the van, a system message indicates that this unit, in this particular configuration, has been requested back at this location tomorrow night.

I smile to myself as I reach the van. A step protrudes, the door glides open, and I deftly plant a high heel, raising myself up into the van. The door closes with a hiss behind me, the step retracts, and the van's electric drivetrain spins up, speeding away from the modest home.

To be continued.