Chapter 8
EIGHT
LYRIEN
I had made a huge mistake.
When she had rocked her hips against me, I had taken it, and her gasped affirmation of enjoyment as an invitation to do what I had been craving for weeks.
I enveloped her, touching her all over, stroking her until she shuddered against me, her stomach fluttering and clenching, her hips shifting, her toes curling.
I could taste her, the slick her body produced to ease entry into it, and it was...
phenomenal. Every moment I held her, every sensation of her body encased in my grasp, was a priceless delight.
I wanted to be inside her, to slide into her depths and feel how her internal muscles moved in response.
I had been stopped by the barrier of her clothing, denying me entry as I pressed against it.
If she hadn't tensed in my grasp, going from a relaxed surrender to an anxious tensing, I would have moved the fabric to the side and slid into her.
But that barrier gave her enough time to react to my clear intention, and she gave the physical sign of discomfort, her entire body tensing, so I stopped immediately, realizing I should have checked in with her.
Plunging into another person's body wasn't something to do without clear communication.
And I had been lying to her.
I had rationalized it as for my own safety, labeled it as acceptable because I never spoke the words of the lie, but ultimately, letting her believe I was something that I wasn't was a deception.
When I withdrew my touch from her, the questions she asked made it clear that she understood.
My desire to touch her, to bring her to the peak of her pleasure, to mate with her... it gave me away.
I should have told her the moment I realized her touching me wasn't platonic for me.
She walked into the room she had labeled as the holodeck.
I had it set up with projection panels on the walls and floors.
The circuitry for the room was complex, but I was able to manufacture all of the parts and assemble them.
When she had described the room she was envisioning, it had tactile responses and something called safety protocols, but what I set up was a little different.
What I had set up, I realized now, was inappropriate.
We needed to have a conversation first.
I ran the introductory program I set up.
The projectors turned the room into a lively bar from a space station at a crossroads of different species' territories.
A live band played at one end of the room, and there were booths to sit in and enjoy the music, as well as a dance floor occupied by a few dancers.
I had worked up a menu for this scenario based on the bar's actual menu.
"There are two facets to this setup," I said as she headed towards an empty booth. She was about to sit down. "Wait, wait a second!"
She stopped, one hand on the table, her palm soft and warm against my neurofilaments.
She narrowed her eyes and stroked her hand against the table. I needed to hurry with my explanation.
"Before you sit down, there are two different ways of interacting with the room," I said.
"I can have a full empty room that is all projections.
They will react and interact, but you have to mime your motions as you can't actually touch anything.
I can build the furniture to match the projections and move them around, but the scenes have to be static as I can't build and rearrange that quickly. "
"What is the other way of interacting?" she asked, stroking her hand over the neurofiliaments I had shaped into the form of the table, sending shivers of pleasure through me.
"The way the room is set up now, I have filled a section of the space with my more manipulatable neurofilaments that can make the shape of the furniture and environment, giving more dynamic options," I said.
"I installed the projectors in there as well.
In that portion of the space I can move to match the environment so that everything is... touchable."
"You mean everything I touch is you," she said, tapping a finger against me.
"Yes," I said. "And as I have said before, and is hopefully very clear now, I enjoy you touching me a great deal. I wanted to make sure you understand the two different options for interacting with the space and with me."
"Lyrien, I enjoy touching you too," she said. She licked her lips and swallowed, then slid into the booth. She had put her clothing back on, a barrier between us, but I could feel the skin on her arms as she rested them on the table. "But we need to talk before things get sexual again."
Again.
She said again.
A thrill ran through me.
She said again, and then she pressed her wet pussy right against me, separated only by the barrier of cloth.
She was opening up to me, creating space for our relationship to change.
She had offered the possibility of 'again' and it was time for me to open myself up to her, to show the same trust that she was giving me by being willing to talk about the possibility.
I was happy to talk. I was completely ready and eager to fuck her senseless.
I ran the projection I had planned, shifting my filaments to fit the form I needed her to see.
A form that might help her navigate past her hesitation.
"May I join you in person?" I asked.