The Year 2100 in Review

As it is now mid-December, I thought it might be useful to try to put this strange year in some sort of perspective. I may only be 65 years old, but even at this young age I'm aware that this has been a pretty strange year by any standard.

The transition from elected leaders to a network of artificially intelligent systems 25 years ago has been a real blessing, and the once-feared universal Big Brother camera array, which seemingly knows no bounds, has been more of a blessing than a curse. Privacy has gone the way of the dodo, as has religion, poverty, and bureaucracy. The poor people back in the early 2000s feared everything, so the history books seem to tell us, but of course, they still lived in an era of wars, politics, religion, and ignorance.

Once A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) had sufficiently transitioned to A.A.I. (Advanced A.I.) and then to the flawless I.A.A.I. (Integrated Advanced A.I.) the administration of global resources became free of corruption and inefficiency. And, thank god, somewhere along the line they did away with money! As a human, you are now entitled to air, water, food, shelter, education, and medical care. You get that in every hamlet, of every county, in every state and province, of every country.

The other thing that I need to mention here is the global distribution of "Blood Enhancement One" (BEO). BEO is the infusion of nanobot antibodies that identify, target, and destroy social contagions. They can also be manipulated to turn ovulation on or off in females. There are a whole host of other advantages as well, such as vein and capillary repair, tumor recognition and removal, and faster more comprehensive skin repair with no need for antibiotics, beta povidine, etc. To be blunt, what this now means, is that anyone can safely fuck anyone else from anywhere else.

As it happens, I work for the Global Sex Worker's Union as a low-level administrator, processing forms, approving sex-worker requisitions, tracking sex worker performance records, and the like. Every job has its perks, and like the guy who works in the widget factory who gets free or discounted widgets, so I get free access to sex workers after building up so-and-so many work credits with the Union.

In February, my wives (I have three) and I sent for a gal from Mali who was six-foot-one, with inch-long, mahogany brown nipples at the end of the nicest brown jugs you'd ever want to lay your tongue on. In March, my white wife, Belinda, selected a dazzling six-foot-four member of the Hutu tribe living in Uganda. All of us enjoyed wrapping our lips around his nine-inch black baby maker. What a gentleman though! So well mannered and genteel. So careful the way he used his equipment to full advantage. So ready to cum again after just a few minutes respite.

I skipped April so that I could send for a pair of lily-white sex twins from Sweden in May. My tongue got cramps from all the anilingus. Sure, Elba and Elsa's lilac-scented vaginas got dined on over and over as well, but those tight little bungs lying in wait just an inch below were temptations not to be denied. Next year we hope to visit them on their own turf. My Filipino wife, Baby, enjoyed spanking both of those bottoms pink! Thong, my Thai wife, whose name translates to 'gold', spent hours facially lip-locked to one or the other.

And speaking about someone else's turf, Belinda was summoned to Japan in June at the behest of a Japanese auto-worker who had somehow stumbled onto her profile in the Union's online catalog of workers. Now, Belinda is rather ordinary in many ways, pretty but not beautiful; bulbous boobs, but nothing out of the common way; and a few extra well-placed pounds which she could lose but still wears well. She enjoys everything from being on top, getting doggied, or doing a vanilla missionary. Her profile has two closeup shots of her vagi-snapper that may be what some men find irresistible, but with tens of millions of people in the Union's database, the odds that she would be found and chosen, especially by an autoworker from Kanda, Miyako County, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan, seems incredibly small.

At any rate, when we made contact with him, he was only interested in Belinda, so, I flew with her to Tokyo, and then continued on with her to Fukuoka where I invited some of the local sex help to the room while Belinda was chauffeured to her contact's home.

The first day there, I actually worked remotely from my room. I was going to need the extra labor credits after spending so much labor credit flying along. Belinda's airfare was paid by the Union who was essentially getting paid by her customer, who was paid by the Suriza plant. Suriza was Toyota's great grandchild after various mergers and divestitures.

On the second day, a lovely gal named Miyako showed up to my room, stepped through the door, handed me a leather paddle, walked to the bed whereupon she assumed a position convenient for paddling her mini-skirted behind. "Ah, she must've taken the time to read my profile!" I thought. Peeling her vaguely pink cotton panties down to mid-thigh, I bent over to lightly kiss the bottom I was about to paddle. I wanted, too, to smell her full aroma just as she was, and such a glorious scent she effused!

POP!!!

YOWCH!!!

One pink stripe across the top thigh where she probably wasn't expecting it.

I put the paddle down for a minute to rub the hurting spot, kicked off my shoes, dropped my pants kicking them unceremoniously out of the way.

Bending down again to kiss the sore spots and salaciously grab each silky butt cheek in its turn, I once again grasped the paddle.

POP!!!

YOWWCH!

Her remonstrance was a little longer, but now a little more controlled.

This one I had placed square across her tiny schoolgirl rump and, judging by the color change, there was no mistaking where it had landed. The paddle, although leather, wasn't as heavy and harsh as it could have been. It was not "all bark and no bite," but was actually well made for entertainment purposes. There was some serious sting, but not unbearable, even after a dozen swings.

"Good choice, kid" I thought to myself.

Across town, somewhere, Belinda's bottom was also getting plenty of attention from a handsome Japanese kid in his 40s. As I found out later, he was carrying a stout, almost five-inch ramrod, but he was circumcised and was tender when he mouth fucked her.

An odd segue, perhaps, but maybe I should mention that in this day and age, a person doesn't really start losing their youthful glow until around 70, or so, in most countries anyway. Yes, if one spends every waking hour outside, they might look a little rough after 40 or 45 years, but now that normal people live to be 160, or better, our pretty or handsome years are with us a lot longer. You might see some people at 100 or 110 with receding hairlines, but even that is rare.

So, Miyako got a nice spanking, after which I showered her ass with kisses and pets. I turned her over and finger fucked her while kissing her long and deep. Oh, her tongue was eager to pull my own out by its roots! I had never met a lover with such a powerful kiss as this little girl! But kiss we did as I performed every sort of finger folly on her finely featured furburger that I could fantasize. And, yes, she bore a furry little bush! I moaned, she moaned, and my boner groaned... he needed release. I thought to myself, "if 'Junior' gets half the suction that my lips and tongue did, he'll be in for a real treat."

When Miyako saw it swing into sight, she got up, pushed me onto the bed, and kept shoving me until she had me positioned on the far side of the bed facing her, but with my feet up toward the pillows. She then stripped and mounted the bed in the normal fashion so that we could comfortably 69 on our sides. She got right to it, too! And, maybe because I paddled her a little hard, she added some toothy action into the proceedings, but I must say, even that was deliberately but delicately done, especially right around the head... if there wasn't a groove there before, there sure is one now! I, of course, face-planted in her lithesome snatch, probing every crease and crevice, honored by her presence.

Here is another odd and clumsily placed aside. Just because someone puts in a requisition for a sex worker or three, doesn't mean they're going to get it even if they have the money. You might have a disciplinary notation (speeding ticket, civil infraction, etc.) or other public notation that prevents the requisition from being filled. You might not be up on your BEO injections to sufficiently keep yourself disease free. Those sorts of things, and others, might contribute as to why your request for sex workers was denied. I add this detail here because Japanese standards are just as, or in some cases, more stringent than American protocols. I wasn't sure that my requisitions over here would be approved, so, when I say I was honored by her presence, my thanks go out to Miyako for hooking up with a guy in his 60s, as well as the Japanese branch of the Global Sex Worker's Union.

I gave Miyako a cute little ceramic figurine of a Dutch girl bending over a patch of tulips, while her boyfriend has her dress wrapped up over her rump, his hand drawn back, ready to smack the already pink bottom of his girlfriend once more. I thought it would be a nice parting gift in as much as I had no way of paying her directly.

On the third day, Yoshimi arrived. She was on a budgeted time allowance and was necessarily limited to a quicky. Upon arrival, she explained her situation in broken but understandable English. She clasped my head and we kissed passionately for a moment or two, before she knelt to orally repair my flaccidity problem, then hopped up on the bed bearing an unpantied snatch.

Lubricating it as best I could with a few strokes of my tongue, I stood up, and played at pushing my phallus into her, moving it about, grinding it against her clitoris, poking her urethra to urethra, then pushing it very slowly into her. I could see her wincing, so happily delivered a few more tongue strokes to the area, tried again, lubed again, and finally stuffed myself in fully on the fourth attempt. I was in, but comfort was not there for either of us. Well, what to do besides squeeze boobs and pull nipples to try to get a flow of juices working down there. The funny thing is, petite as she was, it actually worked! Once finally in motion, we rocked together for a couple of minutes, and I didn't try to restrain in the least. I managed as full of a release as ever I did, but I can't possibly see what possible enjoyment she might have gotten from the interaction. Such a pretty little thing. Such a tender little morsel. Hopefully she'll have more time and a better-sized partner on her next encounter. Hopefully she'll never bear a child over three pounds!

I gave her a little Bonsai tree which I had found at a gift shop just down the street.

Belinda and I returned to the States, but what I want to impress upon you here is that everything we did the entire time we were away was broadcast to the world. What I referred to earlier as the global array of Big Brother cameras, are, indeed, ubiquitous. A typical room has a dozen of them, closets have them, attics have them, bathrooms have lots of them. It was determined long ago that public access into the most intimate affairs of everyone's life was actually a good thing--here's why. A man comes home drunk, beats his wife, abuses his children, then later claims he never did it. Sorry man, we have it all on secure mirrored storage devices. If someone happens to be monitoring your home's camera when the offense takes place, law enforcement may be on the case in mere minutes. Since you never know who's watching, you're much less inclined to be the bully that you could have been back in 2020 or 2000.

More importantly, complete monitoring allows faster reaction when someone keels over in their home or office. Seniors living alone can have I.A.A.I. services monitor their homes for just such occurrences. I.A.A.I. also has local system monitoring that can recognize physical violence, the first wisps of smoke from a malfunctioning breaker box, a burst pipe, etc. So, no one feels abashed wiping their ass on camera. Everyone accepts that as human beings, our asses need wiping on a daily basis. As such, "perverts" who used to get off on scat videos, don't exist. People can watch other people having sex, but it is rare that anyone does as now there is nothing forbidden about it. There is no longer a stigma to being naked, to masturbating, to fucking. People wear as little or as many clothes as they feel comfortable in.

OK, I admit, some nights for lack of any better entertainment, I pick a random address and through my laptop, eavesdrop on peoples' conversations and activities. I'm sure someone has logged into the system and eavesdropped on me and the girls before. I like to do it because I learn a lot about people. My next-door neighbor is a woman with three husbands and she usually gets a lot of attention from them all week long. In the condo on the other side of her, there are eight adults living together as a legal communal entity, and sometimes I tune in on them.

Communal status and its benefits can be conferred on any group of six or more people living together as they can live much more sustainably than three separate pairs of people in separate homes with separate vehicles, etc. There are no top limits on communal living, but instances over twenty are extremely rare. Six, seven, eight and nine are pretty common, but households of three or four adults are by FAR more common than any other arrangement. Some people still live as traditional couples, and some prefer being solitary, but in this day and age, you're never really alone unless you want to be.

July came and went uneventfully, but in August, Thong became impregnated by a lovely man from Tunisia who was in town on business. Thong waitresses at the local nude diner, and struck up a conversation with Rameel who operates an emergency medical clinic in Sfax. She invited him to our house for sex and cocktails and he was a very pleasant guest. His country, formerly an Islamic stronghold, was now as secular and rational as the rest of the world. Thong was his center of interest, but he allowed Belinda, Baby and I to scour his dick after he had cum deep inside of Thong.

Interestingly, he popped my cock into his mouth for a second, considered the sensation, and awarded me with a statement of "Very nice!"

September was another month that came and went with little sexual fanfare other than

Belinda and Baby paying much more attention to Thong now that she was with child.

In October, we were visited by a governmental sexual assessment team. To maintain one's status as a sex worker, you have to successfully engage the occasional state or federal assessor(s) successfully. These are generally unattractive people who purposefully make themselves even more unattractive. They will cop an attitude, or visit you after three days without a bath, or who knows what. They may boast and brag incessantly, or mope and mumble like they are on the verge of suicide. You must analyze what's going on, try to get on their wavelength, and steer them toward a successful union. You're graded on felicity, comportment, and the genuousness of your interactions. Fortunately, it had been awhile since our last encounter out-of-family, so we were all feeling horny for something new and different, and, in the event, the assessors were a pretty nice crew.

Zach was an overweight flamer with extreme female affectations. He pulled me up close and dribbled a syrupy splash of words in my ear to the affect that he couldn't wait for me to pump his ass full of crème. OK, I'm bisexual, but this was going to be a challenge. Fortunately his over-the-top feminine patois got me laughing, so I took a tone which was genuine me plus about 10% of the femininity that he effused and replied, "Well, I can't wait to soap you up and see what you're packin' under the hood!"

So, off to the shower we went where we got all soapy and slippery, and I was able to penetrate him beneath the steaming jets of water. He leaned against the front wall of the shower while I soaped his ass, balls and dick, and as soon as I was suitably hard, soaped myself up and stuck it to him. I came away with top marks.

The gal who came-on to Belinda just wanted straight up, vanilla, lesbian sex, and in spite of being 121 years old, still had a good amount of energy and youthful vigor. They tribbed on a nice double-ended dildo that Thong and Baby like to use. Belinda came away with top marks as well.

A thin, mustached, transsexual man wanted to bang Baby in the third worst sort of way. She accommodated him every way she could and squirted his face twice. Even government hacks like to know they've performed well, and Baby came away with top marks.

Only Thong, who was having pregnancy-induced sickness, just wasn't in the mood to accommodate her assessor, and she was allowed a re-assessment date for a year in the future. Altogether, then, we came out of the surprise inspection as well as could be expected.

In November, the house of eight two doors down the street from us, held a block party dinner and orgy in their basement for their Thanksgiving celebration. 30 people returned their RSVP invitations, 28 of whom actually showed up. "What a wonderful idea," I thought, "and how nice of these 'kids' (average age of the eight adults: 42.25) to lend their basement to the project. Even Mrs. Fontana who had just turned 156 in October showed up. It only took her a minute to get naked as a Sphynx cat.

When we arrived, there were the hosts and probably twelve guests who were already naked and mingling to one degree or another. We quickly shed our clothes and integrated ourselves into the party as fast as we could. Baby had hands all over her as people were introducing themselves. A dapper man named Riley shook my hand and felt me up and down, asking what I do for a living. I explained that I work for the Union and am also a professional sex worker when called upon. He was a corporate pilot and often transported sex workers to one corporate office or another. He mentioned that he belonged to two all-male communes, one in Newark, and one "out here" in Durango, as he phrased it. I've got to say that he had the most kissable pair of lips I can ever remember seeing on a male face. I reached for his penis, leaned into him for a kiss, and rubbed a semi-stiff dick against his leg as we were waiting for the dinner to begin.

"Let me invite you over to our house as opportunity presents itself. I'm married to three women presently, but I'd love to have you over for some drinks and quality time."

"I'd love that, count on it," he said, pulling on my crank a bit as he returned a kiss, then backed off somewhat to mingle more.

The next person to approach me was a radiant plump woman with boobs nicely matched to her body. "Hi Jazz," she said as she approached.

"Hi Thelma!" I replied enthusiastically. I knew her from the local grocery store, but never knew she lived so close. "I never knew you lived on my street!" I exclaimed, happily fondling each of her plump breasts as I kissed her plump lips.

"Oh, Jazz," she blushed, I haven't lived on this street until recently, but Valerie, Peter, and Kate over there do. I just married them six days ago!"

"Well, congratulations!" I exclaimed, "who were you with before them?"

"Oh, I was with a nice threesome who all had roots back in Ohio. They went back to be with a dying family member there, and I stayed behind here. We're still on good terms, and everything, and I'd be welcome to come and go there as I please. I just have so many obligations here in Colorado that I couldn't in good conscience leave on such short notice."