My first time in a sex booth was on my twenty-first birthday. It's the same for everyone, with some allowance for menstrual cycles and illness. My appointment was at 10.30 in Block FH12, Booth 362, and I was so excited, so nervous, I arrived twenty minutes early and sat waiting nearby for my turn.
We all learn the basics of sex at school. A man's penis gets hard and thrusts in and out of a woman's vagina until the friction triggers an ejaculation. If conception occurs, the woman gets pregnant and gives birth after nine months. We learned also that women take anticonception meds until the age of thirty, and optionally thereafter. Regular sex (once per month from the age of twenty-one) is considered beneficial for health.
So I knew all that, but I'd never had actual sex, and it is forbidden to discuss sex with anyone. Sex is a private act, a moment shared between one man and one woman. To talk about sex outside of the sex booth is a violation of privacy and fundamentally disruptive to society.
Of course, that doesn't stop us whispering daringly with friends and colleagues about who has their turn. My friend, Red '43, is two years older than me. I remember how flustered and embarrassed she was after her first time, but each time thereafter, although the embarrassment persisted, she was noticeably excited about it on the days she had appointments.
And then it was my turn. Red '43 saw the anxiety in my eyes when we met for breakfast and she laughed. "Today's the day?" she asked, and I nodded. "Just follow the instructions," she said, "and try to relax."
There was no way I could relax. This was a huge thing. I had to request time off work, a necessary formality, including time to get to my appointment and time to get back. Three hours total. When I left work in the middle of the morning, everyone looked at me. It was so obvious to them all that I was on my way to have sex for the very first time. That a man would soon be putting his penis in my vagina. His sperm would try to penetrate into my womb in search of an egg to fertilise. It would fail.
It was such a strange thought. No man had ever even seen my private parts before, and now one would be penetrating mine with his own. Just the thought of him seeing that part of me was enough to make me anxious. In a way, the fact that we would be strangers to each other was helpful. I couldn't imagine exposing that part of me to a man I actually knew. Green '64, for example. He was an attractive man and I enjoyed talking with him, but if I met him in a sex booth, I would be too embarrassed ever to speak to him again.
My time. 10.30. "Red-23086-63-Libra to Booth 362," a voice called with the dispassionate tone of artificiality. I made my way to the door, and after a brief, final hesitation I let myself in.
It wasn't a big room, but it did have a very specific design and purpose. The lighting was subdued and the walls were clearly soundproofed. It was quiet, and smelled of a blend of disinfectant and some musky fragrance. In the middle of the room was a solid-looking, padded bench, with steel posts at one end. The tops of the two posts had some sort of stirrups.
"Please remove clothing and lie on the bench," the voice said.
I was alone so far. Despite being nervous, it was easy to follow the instructions. I removed my shoes and trousers, then my shirt and corset, finally even my underwear. To be naked in that strange room made me very uncomfortable, but I trusted the voice to lead me through the experience. I lay down on my back, looking up at my reflected self in the mirror ceiling.
"Place your feet in the stirrups," the voice said.
I had to shuffle along the bench until my bum was at the very edge before I was able to reach the stirrups, and when the stirrups fastened tight suddenly I cried out in alarm. Worse, the posts moved apart, forcing my legs to spread very wide into an open V.
"Stop!" I cried, my hands searching for some hold, but finding none.
"Please remain calm," the voice said, but I was about as far from calm as I could get.
Something hard and round pressed between my bum cheeks, pressing against that tight ring of muscle that was absolutely the wrong entrance. I tried to squirm away from it - when suddenly it hummed and vibrated, and the vibrations poured into me through that still-closed, forbidden entrance. I could feel even my breasts vibrating in response.
It was as thrilling as it was confusing. "Ohhnng," I said, giving up the fight and surrendering to the perverse pleasure.
A serpentine device lifted into view at my side. It arced over my belly and aimed between my legs, until I felt it poking gently at my most intimate part, above the entrance to my vagina. I wanted to tug the creepy instrument away, but before I could, it too began to vibrate, and right against that most sensitive spot. "Aaii!" I cried, but any thought of stopping these new vibrations was quickly forgotten.
The combined assault of the two devices was almost enough to make me forget why I was there at all. I had never been so sexually aroused before. My nipples were hard, and so in need of touch that I was soon rubbing them with restless urgency. My hips took on a life of their own in a quest to intensify the vibrations somehow.
Above me, my reflection showed me squirming on the bench, my hands grabbing my breasts, a metal serpent poking between my thighs, a vision not merely of nudity, which itself was shocking, but of overt, sexual desire. It was as if I had been reduced from thinking human to animal obscenity. I didn't have the strength of will to control my body's lewd abandon.
A door opened. Not the one I had entered through, but another that was visible through the V of my legs. A man entered the room. A naked man. About forty years old, at a guess, a bit of a belly, dark hair. No one I knew. Not my type. Definitely a man, though. He had a penis.
