"Will you lick my ass right now?" she asked as soon as he opened the door. Those were the first words she ever spoke to him and it was a with such a sense of urgency that all he could do was utter a flabbergasted, "yes." She walked past him into the room. She was about five-seven, medium build, with shiny black shoulder length hair. She was wearing a microfiber bodycon dress that revealed her lithe figure quite nicely. She knelt on his sofa, facing the back, hiked up her dress, and poked her ass out quite provocatively. She was not wearing any underwear.
Understanding that this wasn't a joke—she was quite serious and expected him to service her ass with his tongue—he moved into position and proceeded to lick her ass. It was as fine an ass as he'd ever seen and was clean and pleasant smelling—two things you rarely heard when speaking of asses. He licked all up and down the crack of her ass, but soon began attacking her anus with his tongue, pressing and probing, hoping to gain entry into her ass as far as his tongue could go. After several minutes, he became aware that she was fingering her clit feverishly as he licked. Just about then, she stood up, pulled her dress off over her head, revealing two firm B-cup breasts which jutted out proudly from her chest and sported quarter-sized areola punctuated with stiffened nipples.
"Lie down on the couch so I can sit on your face," she directed. He complied and she straddled his face, thrusting her wet pussy into his mouth. He lapped at it hungrily, teasing her clitoris occasionally, but only enough to keep her on the edge of orgasm without going over. He could gauge how close she was based on the involuntary spasms of her hips. After a few minutes, He had mercy and just focused on her clit. When she came, it was obvious. She didn't "squirt" like some in the holo-vids do, but she was very wet and the spasms were impossible to fake.
"That was wonderful," she said as she climbed off. "If you would like to fuck me now, that would be great, only know that I am not on birth control. If you fuck me, you will most likely be stuck with me forever."
Queue the sound of the screeching record needle. He was past ready for release. His dick was as hard as it had ever been. He wanted to fuck her so bad that it hurt. But here's the thing. Intercourse with birth control is just intercourse. Intercourse without birth control is family planning. Family planning means husband, wife, offspring . . . forever. Things today aren't like they were in the twenty-first century when people could just fuck for the hell of it and get an abortion if things went south. Today, we had families. There was no divorce. Families were the bedrock of society. Families needed to be strong so society could be strong, could survive. What Kelly was saying was, if he fucked her now, it was for keeps. So he had a decision to make. Find immediate gratification by dropping a hot load of sperm into her waiting cunt and take the chance, probably better than even, that she'll get pregnant, or stop and take a cold shower.
For you, the choice may seem obvious. For him, it was complicated. Yes, Kelly and he had only just met. And yes, their first conversation had to do with him licking her ass, but there's far more to the situation. Kelly was his first appointment. In our society, when you become of age, that is marriageable age, the Clerics make appointments for you. Three or four, depending on local availability. The Clerics know who will be right for you. You see, from the moment we're born, everything about us is tracked. What we eat, what we wear, what we watch, who our friends are—everything. It's all on the grid. We don't have access to the data. But the Clerics do. Their algorithms take everything into account. Temperament, intelligence, likes and dislikes, interests, and even things like, what features of the opposite sex we find most attractive, what fetishes we have . . . everything. It's all on the grid. The clerics know if you fancy busty blondes, or waifish brunettes. They know all the porn you've watched, and what turns you on. And they run their algorithms on all that data to find you the perfect match. Three or four of them, actually, depending on location. Obviously, if your absolute perfect match is halfway around the world, she'll probably not be your first appointment. She might not even make your list if there are other suitable candidates much closer to your location—economics play a part still. And the Clerics were rarely wrong. Sometimes fellows would opt for their third or even fourth appointment and be happy, but most were satisfied with their first appointment. And yes, you can have all your appointments and make your choice afterwards, unless you get one of them knocked up first. The bio-signs show pregnancy in a matter of hours. If he got Kelly pregnant now, he'd know before his second appointment tomorrow. The Clerics would know and likely cancel it.
But there's more. He already knew that he and Kelly were compatible. She wouldn't have been his first appointment otherwise. He already knew that she was sexually attractive. He also knew that, based on her previous requests, her sexual proclivities matched up perfectly with his. But why would a girl show up at her first appointment sans birth control? It could be that she knew of his secret desire to inseminate a woman—the sense of power he would feel ejaculating into an unprotected fertile female. It was a common urge in our day. It could be that she had the complementary desire to be impregnated. But he wasn't sure how she could know of his desires—Clerics were notoriously tight-lipped regarding appointment candidates. You didn't have any interaction with them beforehand. You had your appointment, or series of them, then you made your choice. So, he reasoned, Kelly must just have the desire for his seed.
Don't flatter yourself, he thought. She might want the seed, he knew, but she didn't necessarily want his seed. She was probably operating on the same level of faith that we all had in the Clerics, to pair us up with the person best suited to our unique profile. That didn't really discourage him.
Basically, if he fucked Kelly now, he'd potentially be giving up options with appointments two and three. (He didn't have a fourth scheduled.) He had to decide if he was willing to choose Kelly now and give up his options, or let his balls explode and probably end up choosing her anyhow. He knew there was an outside chance his second or third appointments would be better—but quite honestly, he couldn't see how. The Clerics seemed to have nailed it. And there was the outside chance that she wouldn't actually get pregnant. Then he could still have all his options and yet enjoy the sweet release of fucking Kelly now.
He also appreciated Kelly's forthrightness about not being on birth control. She didn't have to tell him. He may later have considered it a form of treason and held it against her forever, but she was not, by law, required to tell him.
I know this took awhile to explain, but he knew all of this stuff already. In his head, the decision was instantaneous. He fucked her, long and deep. Well, deep anyhow. Long was relative based on his heightened state of arousal and the fact that she was a perfect fucking machine. It was the way she looked at him when he exploded inside her that was his favorite part. At that moment, they were joined, body and soul. They didn't need any Clerical documentation.
But Kelly didn't get pregnant that night. Still, he called off his other appointments and Kelly moved in immediately. He was no longer interested in other appointments. They couldn't possibly be better. They would just end up being baggage.
Esmeralda got the notice that her appointment for tomorrow night was called off. That meant that whoever it was with went with his first appointment. It didn't really surprise her. Most men went with their first appointment. She was disappointed, though. She was hoping she would have finally ended up with her dream man. Looks like her dream man went to someone else. That just sucked.
It was a man's world out there, though. Men got to make the choice. Women only had the option to refuse. It was rarely exercised, though. She knew that the Clerics were generally spot on with their matches. Of all of her friends who've had appointments, only one has ever refused. She did end up getting placed eventually, but she confided that she wasn't sure she was any better off with her current husband than she would have been with the one she'd refused. Refusing wasn't supposed to have negative consequences regarding Clerics. They never admitted as much, citing that as thorough as their algorithms may be, they are not foolproof. Allowing the right of refusal was a check against tyranny, they said. No one should ever feel they were forced, the Clerics maintained. Marriage, they said, was ultimately a free choice between the two parties. The man first, and then the woman.