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๐—•๐—ฒ๐—ฑ๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—บ ๐—˜๐˜†๐—ฒ๐˜€

๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜’๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ข



The shield goes up, and one woman turns to face the window then swings her chair around to face me. Sheโ€™s already naked, but keeps her thighs together and rubs a finger over her palm, impatiently waiting for me to slide a tip through the slit in the glassteel. She looks too young for my taste. Her breasts are too large for her skinny frame, almost too round and firm and perfect to be real. Genemod, maybe, or old fashioned implants. Feeling vaguely hypocritical, I look past her to the other woman in the booth. Sheโ€™s voluptuous almost to the point of being plump, and her red hair isnโ€™t entirely convincing though maybe thatโ€™s the lighting, but she looks real. The one facing me might almost be CGI.


The shield descends, and I wait before feeding more money into the slot. This time, the redhead is looking back at me with a faint smile. My face doesnโ€™t startle her; I get the feeling sheโ€™s not only shown everything, sheโ€™s seen everything, and she understands why Iโ€™m here even though I obviously could afford better. Her smile widens at the size of the tip I give her, as does the gap between her knees. My gaze is drawn down to that heart-shaped patch of auburn hair, and she leans back and raises her knees to let me see even more. She rubs her clit, her lips part slightly, and a drop of moisture trickles down to her asshole.


She laughs softly at my expression. โ€œYou an ass man, honey? Or a tit man?โ€


I look at her face again, and before I can answer, she hefts one of her large pendulous breasts and runs her tongue around the areola. The pink nipple reddens and swells, and I gasp. Once upon a time, that would have been enough to push me over the edge. My hand stays in my pocket as she goes from licking to kissing, to sucking, to biting. Her left hand drifts back down to her clit, and soon I donโ€™t know where to look, my gaze going up and down as though nodding agreement to anything she might suggest. Then she presses her breasts against the glass while she fumbles around looking for something, then sits back and slides a long dildo up between those enormous breasts and licks the tip. Soon her tongue is going crazy, sliding from nipple to dildo to nipple, and I bang my head against the glass as I lose control completely. I donโ€™t even see the shield slide down again.


I can remember a time when there was no glassteel, when an extra twenty would have let me fondle breasts like those, a time when I could have done much more than watchโ€ฆ


But some prosthetics are better than others. They canโ€™t restore my sense of touch. But I can walk again, and my memory works well enough; I can see even better than I could when I first sneaked into one of these places, a hundred years ago. โœฆ




Kris Cherita is the smut-writing evil twin of a science fiction and urban fantasy novelist who wishes to remain pseudonymous.



Speculative fiction & POETRY ZINE
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