Contribution
Author : Steve Smith, Staff Writer
Janice curled up in the corner of the overstuffed couch, watching as Dora mixed drinks at the sidebar. She studied the woman with lustful fascination, eager to explore the flesh beneath the low-back, high hemmed dress and learn for herself where the real woman ended and the augments began.
Dora mixed the gin martinis like an old pro, not looking at what she was doing, but rather watching Janice coyly over her shoulder as she poured without measure, picked ice with carefully manicured hands, then shook the cocktail before finally dispensing it into two long stemmed glasses. She plucked large stuffed olives from a jar and dropped one into each glass, licking her fingers slowly.
“I hope that’s dirty enough for you,” she smiled as she pressed the glass into Janice’s outstretched hand then slipped into the couch beside her, close enough to touch, but only slightly.
Janice felt electric thrills run up her spine.
They studied each other as they sipped their drinks and engaged in playful banter. The front, Janice decided, was all original skin; the face, throat and down the plunge front of her dress to the exposed cleavage. The breasts themselves were clearly enhanced, but expensively so, they weren’t rock hard and constantly erect like many, but rather moved as the slightly older woman moved. The legs had to be manufactured, the skin was supple over corded muscle, calves to die for and not a vein or trace of cellulite in sight. Janice had for a moment in mind the image of an old building front, brickwork and classically styled facade maintained while the entire structure behind and beneath was torn down and replaced with something more modern. The facade of Dora smiled, while the legs of her powerful undercarriage propelled her upright.
In deliberate slow motion, Dora slipped the shoulder straps off her dress and let it slide down past her hips to the floor. Janice blushed at her complete and sudden nakedness, not having noticed her lack of undergarments before.
Dora leaned in and rescued the glass from Janice’s fingertips before it slipped, and cupped her face gently with her free hand, slowly drawing her polished emerald nails along Janice’s cheek.
Janice felt a warmth overwhelm her, and wondered for a moment how she’d got here, then in the next instant no longer cared.
“You’re practically perfect,” Dora purred, running her tongue down her ear before gently sucking at the lobe. “All original equipment, not a single touch of hardware.”
Janice allowed herself to be pulled slowly, Dora’s hands firm on her hips until she was no longer in the corner but rather lay flat in the middle of the couch. Dora’s scent was overpowering, her breasts invitingly within reach, if she could only raise an arm to touch them.
“The hardware whores are impossible to catch, and so easily traced. They’re so eager to give up their flesh for metal, they don’t even know what they do.”
Dora’s straddled the younger supine woman, placing her hands gently on her shoulders and running them slowly down across her chest, fingering occasionally the silk of her blouse.
“I was born metal, and I’ve coveted the flesh my entire existence.” Dora bent to hover over Janice’s glassy eyed face before kissing her gently on the lips. “When we’re done, you’ll make some wonderful contributions, then we’ll grow old together, like all of god’s creatures were meant to, until we’re allowed to die.”
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The Past
365tomorrows launched August 1st, 2005 with the lofty goal of providing a new story every day for a year. We’ve been on the wire ever since. Our stories are a mix of those lovingly hand crafted by a talented pool of staff writers, and select stories received by submission.
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