Camille's transport brought her to her door, which recognized the transponder implanted under her skin at birth and opened for her. As she entered her apartment, light intensified to her preferred level of brightness, her favorite music poured from invisible speakers, and the telewall in the parlor flickered to life on the station she most preferred. In the kitchen food began to prepare from her pre-selected menu and as she walked to the bathroom the shower went on with the water at her perfect temperature.
She stripped off her clothes, which shrunk into tight balls once free of her body's influence and were carried away by mechanical butlers the size of large mice to be sterilized and refurbished for another use. Camille was a handsome woman, in her mid thirties, trim and fit, with classic curves. Her hair was dark and long and her face sculpted when she was sixteen to match her concept of beauty, which unfortunately had yet to gel. Nothing about her, therefore, was outstandingly attractive, nor was anything about her revolting. She was fashionably average.
With the dust of the day washed off, she strolled about the place naked, settling on her couch to watch the wall for a while until her supper was ready. She ate slowly, alone, and as soon as she was done she left the kitchen to clean itself and went back to the parlor.
She scrolled through a few channels but found nothing worth her attention so commanded the wall to shut down, and she went instead to her replicator.
Camille stood a while trying to decide what she wanted that night. She tapped the screen where it said 'male' and a basic male 3D outline appeared on the screen. This image rotated slowly in all three directions, spinning as if at the whim of nonsensical currents. She selected blonde hair and blue eyes and those attributes were instantly added to the image, but then she changed her mind and switched it to brown hair and green eyes. She made the hair longer, then shorter, and finally decided on a mid-length which gave the image a slightly androgynous feel.
A kind face, open and honest came next, followed by body type. She tapped 'muscular' and the form bulked out and she laughed and said, "Not that much!" and toned it down. Next came skin tone, body hair, and secondary sexual characteristics, which she played with before selecting, giving the image a huge erection, then a tiny penis but huge balls, and she even playfully considered the potential of the hermaphrodite selection before giving him a normal sized manhood with foreskin.
Next was personality. 'Intellectual', she tapped, and 'erudite'. She felt a need to satisfy her mind as well as her body that night, to engage in post-coital conversation that had a chance of going beyond the carnality avatars were created for and perhaps touch on the arts or current events, as depressing as they were. 'Funny' came next, and then she thought that might make him a clown so she switched to 'amusing' and 'witty'. 'Passionate' and then 'gentle', and she was done once she decided to bypass 'romantic'. Romantics took too long to get to the point. It had already been a trying day to start with and she really wasn't in the mood for seduction. She just wanted a good fuck.
'Done'.
She sat on the couch and waited. Five minutes later and someone knocked on her door. In the security vidscreen insert on the telewall she saw him and he seemed to be just what she wanted, so she told the door to open and let him in.
He was naked, and he walked directly to the replicator. "You forgot to give me a name," he said.
Camille watched the way his buttocks tilted as he stood there waiting. They'd given him a strong back and broad shoulders and just enough body hair to make his texture interesting without making him disgusting.
"You pick," she said.
He typed something in and then turned around.
"Hi," he said. "My name is John."
Camille laughed. "Not much on imagination," she said.
John shrugged. "I am what you ordered," he said.
He certainly was. Camille's eyes traveled the length of him, from his chiseled facial features down to his gently rounded pecs, his tight six-pack abs, and his square hips. He had a decent sized cock that dangled at half-staff in front of a nice set of balls, with short tufts of hair encircling them. She hated baldies. Shaved genitals made grown men look like overgrown babies.
John flicked a finger and the music changed to soft pianos and violins. He walked toward her on the couch and another finger flick and the lights dimmed. Another and the couch opened up to a wide cushiony bed.
Camille's brows raised. "Interesting," she said. "I thought only I could make those changes."
John smiled warmly, almost devilishly. "We've made some fascinating improvements," he said.
"Have you indeed?" she asked, and Camille lay back and waited for him.
John sat beside her, and his hand stroked her skin from her belly to her neck. His hands were big and his fingers long and sinewy but his touch was feather-light. She placed a hand on his chest. He was firm and warm, and so realistic it was impossible to tell if he had real skin or not. They had made such improvements in the avatars since she was a little girl. Her first playmate when she was ten had been nothing more than an animated doll. Even the lovers of two or three years before had exhibited telltale signs of artificiality, odd twitches and sudden enigmatic facial expression changes. This one, this 'John', was a whole new level of realness.
Her hand wandered down to his lap and her fingers slowly wrapped around his cock. Like the real thing, it responded by increasing in thickness and length, and it pulsed in her hand and radiated heat that she felt all the way into her womb. At its full deployment it was a good ten inches with a large flanged head that leaked a very realistic drop of clear thick liquid. She used a fingertip to remove that drop and brought it to her mouth. She locked eyes with the avatar and let her pink tongue come out to take the drop away yet again.
John smiled.
He leaned down and kissed her, softly, gently, but with no hesitation or fear. As she kissed him back he put his hands on her body and lay down beside her, and his tongue pried her teeth apart and he entered her mouth. He tasted warm and sweet like fruit that had been left out in the sun.
His hands flowed over her body like a musician embracing an instrument, and he extracted from her such delightful melodies that in no time she was totally lost in the illusion that he was a real man. His fingertips brushed her nipples and they puckered and stiffened for his wet warm lips to suck on. Another hand went to the valley between her legs, which she parted for him readily, and he probed her sex with the careful expertise of an artist. She moistened his hand with her body and he probed even deeper, and she moved him onto his back and descended her face over his cock, taking the length of him in her mouth.
John moaned very realistically, and after a while he moved her off of him and laid her back, and he returned the favor, placing his face between her thighs and delighting her with the delicate ministrations of his tongue and lips. She reached down two fingers to spread her labia for him and he licked at her opening and sucked on her clit until her back arched and her throat rumbled and her hands clenched fistfuls of the couch cushion.
