5 comments/ 6274 views/ 6 favorites Roberta Rossum By: Inosolan She was sitting in the ESU library, with a stack of imposing-looking reference books on the table, and a faint frown on her face as she typed a few notes into an expensive-looking laptop. She wasn't wearing any makeup -- not that her perfect skin actually needed any -- and her hair was pulled severely back from her face and gathered in a single flowing sable pony tail. Her sweater, while form-fitting enough to hint at a nicely-shaped bustline, was not particularly revealing, though its colour complemented her colouration, which was medium, just a hint of surviving tan. Around her neck hung a chain supporting a pair of plain black-framed glasses, which she occasionally donned briefly and un-self-consciously whenever she needed to make out particularly difficult passages in the books she was researching. Whatever else could be said of her appearance, she certainly had fine legs and -- and here was the odd note in her appearance that attracted attention -- they were definitely on display under the table, her feet in glistening red high-heeled pumps first catching the attention, leading to contemplation of shapely ankles caressed, bound and confined by the shoes' straps, after which the eye inevitably moved a bit higher, taking in the trim calves in sheer blue hose and the dimpled knees, then on to the fine strong-looking sleek thighs, eventually arriving at the hem of her red -- leather -- miniskirt. Those fine legs, and the contrast between their presentation to the world and the rest of her appearance, had, over the three days she had been researching at that desk, caught the attention of several other library users, and some of them had made one or another excuse to speak to her, to try to make her acquaintance. The library staff, watching the inevitable brush-offs, had quietly enjoyed the discomfiture of several young men and one girl so far, when one more young man arrived at the desk and spoke quietly to her. "Excuse me," he said. "Do you have Asimov's 'Fundamental Laws of Robotics' there?" Glancing briefly up, she looked down at her stack of books and said "Yes -- I believe I do. Do you need it?" "Well, actually, I just need one citation from it. Do you mind if I borrow it for a moment?" "Not at all." she said, just the faint trace of an unidentifiable accent coloring her speech. Handing him the book, she casually asked "Are you studying cybernetics, also?" "Actally, it's more of a hobby with me. I'm an Electronics major, but as a personal project, I'm working on Artificial Intelligence. I'm trying to decide how Asimov's Laws of Robotics can be instituted in a real-world situation, right now. It seems to me that if the Laws are fully implemented, the constraints that they place on the actions of the AI will prevent it from ever passing the Turing Test." "An interesting theory," she said, rolling the "R" slightly. "How so?" "Well, if the person sitting at the terminal issues a direct order to his 'partner', then what reaction he gets to that may well help him to determine whether he is communicating with a human or an AI -- a robot." "I had thought of that," she responded, thoughtfully -- he noticed that she pronounced "th" with a bit of a Gabor-like "ts" sound. "I too am working on Artificial Intelligence; as a matter of fact, I am working on my thesis with Dr. Capek, and the subject is how to determine whether an AI is truly intelligent, rather than merely a very sophisticated computer game. We had discarded the basic Turing Test for just such flaws and are trying to determine some better method." "Fascinating," he said. "One idea would be to simply forbid such order-giving, but that would prejudice the test." "Exactly," she said, turning a bit to face him where he sat diagonally across the table from her, with a small smile on her face. "What Dr Capek has suggested that I consider..." And the Discussion began, the eternal Discussion that always seems to arise whenever two academics with a true love of their subject happen to meet -- wide-ranging over the problems faced by researchers and what solutions they planned to try, touching on the perfidy of funding administrators and on the foibles and quirks of thesis advisors. Before long they were suggesting possible solutions to each others' current problems, and pointing out references in various of the volumes she had collected on the table. In order to better share the texts, he had moved around to her side of the table and sat next to her, as they took turns looking up obscure facts of cybernetic lore and pointing them out. As they became more at ease with each other, their mutual passion for knowledge making it seem as if they had klnown each other for a long time, they drifted closer together at the table until, suddenly, with a bit of a start, he realised that her warm hip in its black leather had bumped against his. "Ummm..." he began, but she interrupted him, speaking in a normal cheerful tone that didn't so much deny the contact of their bodies as simply make it unimportant in the Scheme of the Cosmic All. "You know," she said, "I don't believe we have introduced ourselves. My name is Roberta -- Roberta Rossum. My friends call me Robbie." And she held out her hand. Taking the warm, slender but strong hand, he clasped it firmly but not too tightly, and answered "Gort -- short for 'Gorton' -- Arbeit. Pleased to meet you." Looking around, he suddenly realised just how long they had been talking -- they were the only ones left in the library, and, in fact, a library clerk was just approaching their table to ask them to finish up, please -- it was closing time. Each grabbed a couple of important texts from the pile they had accumulated in their discussion, and headed for the check-out desk. Emerging from the exit into the early evening cool, they stood a moment breathing the fresh air after a day of musty library odors. For the first time, Gort got a good view of those glamour-grrl legs, from the almost blatantly-erotic red shoes up to the hem of the butter-soft black leather miniskirt. For a moment, there was a silence, while the way in which he regarded her modified itself, adding "sexy lady" to "interesting colleague". A faint smile on her lips as he looked back up acknowledged her recognition of his observations and his new perceptions, and added an element of challenge; would he now make a fool of himself, as so many had at this point, or would he simply continue in an easy manner, as if nothing had changed? With only the faintest of hesitations, he said "You know, it's awfully late; did you have any dinner plans or whetever this evening? Maybe we could grab a pizza or something and continue this discussion...?" "Sounds good to me," she answered easily. "Here, be a gentleman." Before he realised what she was doing she had added her armload of heavy books to his, and set off with an almost-skipping step and a bit of a merry laugh toward Jocko's, the finest pizza parlor near the campus. "Hey -- no fair," he protested. "If I gotta carry all the books, you gotta pay for my pizza." "We'll see..." she said. Sitting at the table that bore the remains of one of Jocko's giant "Death by Ingredient" specials, they continued to get acquainted. She was from Eastern Europe, which explained her slight accent; he was from Chicago, which explained his cultivated air of habitual cynicism. By the time they were ready to go, they were leaning inward over the table and holding hands. They slowly walked toward his car parked across the street, where they had stashed their books; both reluctant to part, but neither really knowing what move to make next. "Hey -- Cowboy Mouth are playing at the Bronze!" he said, noticing a flyer on a pole by the car. "Who?" she asked "Cowboy Mouth -- the greatest American rock'n'roll band there is; from New Orleans. The door guy at the Bronze is a friend of mine -- I can get us in free. Wanna go rock some?" "Sure. Why not -- I can sleep in tomorrow." So they did. And the show was terrific, as promised, with the pounding beat of true rock'n'roll, beautiful lyrics and downright fantastic vibes. The Bronze was jammed -- hot, sweaty and tightly packed, the crowd surging one way and then the other in the dark. They were pushed against each other by the crush, shoved hard together. The proximity of their bodies and the hot, intimate atmosphere and the concealing darkness of the club and the sensuality of the music was, to say the least, stimulating to Gort; at one point, when he was pushed against Robbie from behind, and found his groin pressed firmly against her shapely buttocks under the thin leather of her skirt, he found himself with a rather embarrassing semi-erection that he was sure she must have felt pressing into the warm valley between the firm cheeks. He was reassured and a litle startled when she pressed back against him and rolled her hips a bit, adding to the stimulation and bringing him fully erect. After a second of this, she broke the contact and stepped a bit backward, putting an arm around his waist. At that, he reached out and likewise put an arm around her waist, hand on hip, and they snuggled up against each other, dancing in place together to a raving song called "Love of My Life". The next song was a slow one, and she leaned her head onto his shoulder and nestled even more closely against him. It was obvious that she didn't find him repulsive; even so, he was startled when she placed her hand on his and gently lifted his hand to cup her warm shapely breast. He gently cupped the warm globe, feeling the nipple standing firm against his palm; she lifted her face to his and they kissed, at first gently and tentatively, then more passionatey, tongues touching and stroking each other. The show was almost over; the band swung into a raving rocker of a song called "Jenny Says", with the singer inciting and encouraging the crowd to scream shout jump and dance and sing along. Under cover of the noise and activity, she reached down and her strong warm fingers stroked and played with the almost painful erection in his jeans. His hand dropped downward again, caressing her round warm asscheek through the thin leather of the skirt -- as he did, she grasped his dick more tightly and pumped it firmly, which made him bold enough to reach a bit lower, lift the hem of the skirt and stroke her flesh directly. He was startled to feel that her hose were old-fashioned stockings, held up by a lacey garter belt and that she was apparently not wearing any panties! As his fingertips traced the warm crack of her ass, she pumped his cock more firmly, and kissed him hungrily again, then turned a bit, pressing herself against him, letting his leg slip between her thighs and gently humping her crotch against his thigh, her breath catching slightly, eyes half-closed. The show closed with a roaring cover of the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again", during which she stood in front of him, one of his hands cupping a tit, one pressed against her crotch, holding her against him as he stroked his hot cock against her incredible ass. He was about to cum in his pants, and, unless he mistook the signs, she had already had at least one small orgasm as they dirty danced to the driving beat. After pausing in the lobby to say "hi" to the band members, they ducked out to the car. "Well, where shall I drop you?" he asked. "Nowhere, yet," she answered. "Why don't we drive through the park for a while?" "Okay," he said, putting the car in "Drive" and heading that way. As soon as the car began moving through the night, she leaned over, snuggled up against him, and took his arm and put it around her. With no urging needed this time, his hand found her breast again and fondled it gently; the feel of her erect nipple pressing against his palm was incredibly stimulating. He wasn't driving very fast, which was a good thing, because, slow as he was driving, when her hand stroked his crotch and then cupped his balls he almost swerved the car off the road. "Mmmm." She laughed softly. "My, my -- someone is a bit excited." He stroked her tit again, then gently pinched the nipple, making her shudder and gasp slightly. "Looks like more than one of us is a bit excited," he said. Her only answer was a soft chuckle and another caress. As the stimulation brought another shiver from him, he was amazed to feel her fingers plucking at his zipper. The sound of the zipper was clearly audible in the quiet that had descended in the car, as was his gasp as her warm fingers daintily slipped in through his fly and into his boxers as she gently stroked his cock with the tips of her sharp nails. Softly, she grasped his erect cock, bringing it into full view. Her fingers tightened a bit, then began to pump him with a slow, tantalising rhythm. "Keep driving," she said. Her other hand plucked at her sweater, pulling its hem upward. Under it she wore no bra, and his hand easily found the warm smooth globe of her pretty tit, his fingers teasing the hard hot nipple, then stroking the perfect skin, weighing and fondling, then tickling teasingly along the underside. "Mmmmmm..." She shifted in the seat, turning and leaning downward. Even though he knew what she must be planning, it was still a shock when her warm wet mouth closed over his dickhead. As her caressing mouth sent incredible sensations shooting through him, he kept on driving through the park, almost in a trance. He became aware that as she sucked and kissed his cock, she was beginning to stroke herself, her short skirt up to her hips. As her own fingers shot pleasure through her, she moaned in pleasure around his cock; the vibrations sent an extra thrill through him. She briefly withdrew, looked upward under her eyelashes, and breathed "I want to make you cum. Let me have your cum..." and went back to sucking him, harder and more insistently. She began taking more and more of his cock with each stroke, her tongue caressing the head on the outstrokes, then pushing the head further and further into her throat until she was taking all eight inches of his thick hard dick. Then she began to move faster and faster, sucking harder on the outstrokes, working the shaft with her tongue on the downstroke, her lips stimulating every inch of his flesh. As he felt his orgasm getting nearer and nearer, she reched down and began to play with his balls, stroking and lifting them, fondling them and tickling their tightening sack with her nails. Finally he could hold back no longer. With a groan and a twitching of his whole body that again almost ran the car off the road, he let go. His hot white cum gushed from his cockhead, pumping upward from his hot straining balls, spurting into her mouth as she swallowed eagerly, gulping down almost all of it. It filled her mouth, and just a trickle ran out of one corner to drop down into his pubic hair. As he softened in her mouth, she kept on gently sucking and nuzzling at him, until she let his limp cock fall from her lips. By now he had had to stop the car in a dark shaded corner; she raised up and kissed him passionately, her tongue invading his mouth and bringing remnants and the taste of his own cum. As he kissed her and tasted his own cum on her tongue, he was fondling her firm, warm breasts and playing with the hard nipples. With a soft moan, she took one of his hands and moved it downward to the top of her thighs, turning in the seat of the big old car to open herself to him. She was so hot and wet! Effortlessly, two of his fingers slipped into her open, juicy pussy, and he began to rhythmically stroke them in and out of her opening as her hips began to pump in time to their movements. "oh... Oh... Ohmighod, I'm going to cum... Unnnhhhhh..." she groaned as her inner muscles clamped on his fingers, pulsing, milking at them in time to the spasms of her release. As she subsided in the seat, her warm juices trickling down her thigh to stain the upholstery, she drew back, loked deeply into his eyes and said, as she placed one cool hand on his cheek, "I hope it's not too far to your place? And I hope you don't have a roommate...?" "Not far at all -- I do have a roommate, but he's out of town for the rest of the week. Is anyone expecting you home tonight?" "Not at all. Drive, my good man." And, as her fingertips tickled his slowly re-stiffening cock, she said "... my very good man, I think..." and chuckled. Arriving at his apartment, set high on a cliff overlooking the city and the River, after some minor adjustments of clothing in case anyone were looking their way they got out of the car and walked up the drive, pressed together as closely as they could manage while still being able to walk, arms around each others' waists. As they entered and he turned on the lights, she glanced around. "Oh, what a lovely sofa!" she exclaimed. "I want you to make love to me on that big sofa, by that big window that looks out over the River!" "I think that could be arranged," he said, as he stepped up behind her, reaching around to put one hand on her fine firm breast and one with its palm cupping the warmth and shape of her mound through the fine soft leather of her miniskirt, pulling her back against him as he pressed forward, his again-fully-erect staff pressed tightly along the crack of her ass. With a little sigh she leant back against him, her legs moving slightly apart as he began to massage her pussy's outer lips through the leather, and to stroke his hard cock between her warm ass cheeks. Under his palm, he felt her nipple rise to full erection, both hard and hot and flexible at once. With just a bit of fumbling, his fingers slipped inside her sweater and began teasing the nipple directly. She gasped slightly, then reached a hand behind herself, between them, and firmly seized his cockshaft through his trousers and began stroking it. Encouraged, his fingers slipped down to the hem of her skirt, lifted it, and then slipped onward to the warm fleshy lips he had already stroked so happily once in the car. As a single fingertip traced her slit from top to bottom, pressing just slightly to tease her clitoris each time it reached the top, she moaned deeply in her throat and began pressing her groin forward and downward against his hand, trying to force more of that teasing fingertip inside her needy cunt. Nuzzling at her neck, breathing the scent of her fine hair, he began to lick and nibble one of her small, lovely pink ears. His hot breath and hot, tickling tongue tip were the final push, and she moaned through another mini-orgasm, her pussy pulsing against his finger as her knees weakened and only his hands at her breast and her crotch held her up. "Oh, my -- t'sat was so vunerdful...!!" she breathed, her slight accent thickening as she gave herself up to pleasure. "Now, I will..." "No," he said, as he pushed her ahead of him and pushed her down onto the huge couch. "No, you've done enough of the work -- now it's my turn for a while." She lay there gazing trustingly up at him as he steped back and quickly shed his shirt and trousers and stood there for a moment like a warm marble statue that she gazed on, her eyes focussing on his long, hard and thick cock. She lay there on the smooth leather of the couch, as he knelt beside her. Again, he leaned forward, kissing her deeply and lovingly, their tongues slipping over and over each other as his gentle hand again caressed one of her breasts. Then his fingers fumbled for just a moment and found and unfastened the top button of her sweater. Then the next and the next, and, as the light sweater opened itself, that hand reached inside and his fingertips began to tease and manipulate first one hard nipple and then the other, as he broke the kiss and lightly kissed along the side of her jaw to her ear, nibbling and teasing it with his lips and tongue. She raised her hands, pulling him back to her lips, kissing him again and again, then her right hand slipped downward, finding his hand where it cradled her naked breast and pressing his hand more firmly to her tit. Roberta Rossum As his hand moved downward again, she continued fondling and caressing her own breasts and nipples, moaning in the pleasure she gave herself as she tweaked at the erect nubs. Now all of the buttons of her sweater were open, and it fell away to the sides, showing him for the first time all of her lovely breasts and her slim waist and flat tummy as far as the waist-hugging band of her skirt. Again he turned away from her lips, turning to begin kissing his way down along her body. He kissed her chin, then nuzzled his lips and tongue down the taut line of her throat, pausing at the base of her throat, before drawing a teasing line with tonguetip to and up the smooth slope of her right breast to the nipple. Flicking the nipple with his tingue as one of his hands began to stroke her belly, he smiled as she moaned and ulled his head downward, pushing her breast upward to force the nipple between his lips. "Ohhh, yess... suck my nipples... kiss my titties... make me feel sooo goood..." she gasped out, then gasped with pleasure that was almost pain as he quickly and gently but firmly bit at the nub of her nipple. He turned his oral attentions to her other breast and nipple then, nibbling and sucking at that as well, until she was panting, so stimulated that the slightest touch on her flushed breasts caused her entire body to shake. Then his left hand reached downward, beginning at her knee and stroking upward along the inside of her stockinged thigh with feather-light fingertips, gently playing with the warm tangled hair at the top, and then stroking back downward along the other thigh. His kisses moved downward from her breasts, until he was licking her shivering tummy and playing in her bellybutton with his tonguetip. He stroked his whole hand up and down the inside of her thigh now, fascinated by the warmth and smoothness of the material of her stockings and the contrast in texture it made to her skin, warm and smooth also but in a completely different way. As if he had asked, she laughed between gasps for breath and said "Yes, darling... they are... real silk... I love the feel of silk... on my skin, and I love even... more the feel of a strong man's... hand through that silk..." Finally the searching hand waited no longer, finding what it was seeking at the tops of her thighs, in the hot mound with its crisp curling hair and its hot wet slit... Her pussy lips were already hot and wide open, and her oils and juices were running in droplets down her leg. He teased one fingertip up and down along the outer lips, then played with the petal-like inner lips, qently tweaking and stroking them as she gasped and shook and tossed her head from side to side, her hips straining against his handm blindly pushing her pussy toward the source of her pleasure, trying for more... more! Suddenly his hands were gone from her body, and she uttered a small mew of loss and protest, then quieted as she felt the zipper on her hip opening, and one of his hands lifted her bottom from the couch as the other slipped her skirt downward and off. She felt him withdraw a bit, and opened her eyes to see that he was staring down at her, seeing her body completely bare for the first time. His eyes roamed over her, and his hand absently stroked his own hard cock as he looked first at her fine firm tits with their protruding pink nipples and large upstanding aureolae, then downward past her flat tummy and bellybutton to her hips and her legs and then back to her hot open cunt. She still wore the red spike heels, sheer blue hose and old-fashioned black lacy garter belt, and she looked like something that belonged on the cover of the hottest porn video he could imagine. Seeing her like that caused his already painfully-stiff cock to rise just a bit more, and she chuckled wickedly in her throat, and then rolled just a bit to her left, drawing up her right knee to open herself and expose herself more fully to his gaze, looking even more like a porn-box cover model, then smiled evilly up at him as she continued fondling her own tit with her left hand, reaching downward with her right hand to spread her pussy wide open in front of him, and then to press two fingers into her hot cunt and pump herself deeply and lewdly... Then she rolled over onto her tummy, spreading her legs widely and cocking her hip upward, still reaching downward underneath herself to stroke and fondle her pussy, making sure that he could see from behind how deeply her fingers stroked in and out of her dripping cunt. "See anything you like, sailor?" she teased. For an answer, he stepped sideways, grasped her beautiful rounded hips and lifted her upward, kneeling between her stockinged legs, and then, with a single smooth thrust, buried all eight inches of his rock-hard cock in that hot tight wet tunnel in her belly. With a loud groaning sound, she came immediately, her pussy pulling and squeezing and milking his cock as it impaled her. It was all he could do to keep from cumming himself, but he held back, determined to give this beautiful girl a fucking she would never forget. Rearing upward a bit, she put her hands on the low arm of the couch and began twisting her hips in a way that caused his big dick to stir around in her depths like a blunt paddle. For a moment he held himself still, but with a sudden groan he began slowly and deeply thrusting in and out of the hot flesh that grasped him so firmly. Holding her hips to guide her as much as to balance himself, he pulled back till only the head of his cock was within her, then smoothly and slowly drove all eight inches back into her, again and again. Pacing himself, trying to hold back his climax as long as possible, he fucked her with passion and tenderness, slowly increasing his pace, until he was pounding deeply and rapidly into her willing cunt. She climaxed at least twice more, finally collapsing forward onto her face as she became too limp to support herself. He found himself holding onto the spike heels of her red shoes as is they were wheelbarrow handles, using them to guide her motion to match his thrusts. He felt her shake through one more shattering orgasm, and knew his own was near. Cradling her hips again in his hands, he slowed his stroke to the slowest he could stand, again pumping his full eight inches slowly in and out of her open, slippery cunt. He placed one hand on her butt, then began to play gently with her anus. The little puckered opening opened with little resistance to his fingertip, and he slipped his finger inside. As he stroked her ass in rhythm with his cock in her pussy, she again moaned and gasped and shook beneath him. "Oh, yes... How did you guess I enjoy to have men to play with my ass?" she managed to gasp out. "A lot of women do -- they just don't admit it," he answered, adding a second finger to the first already slipping in and out of her asshole. "Ooooh... I love it. I had a lover in the Old Country, all he wanted was to fuck my ass. I had to make him fuck my pussy so it would not get jealous, told him no ass if he didn't make my pussy happy..." "Oh, well... in that case..." he smiled, slowly pulling his cock out of her cunt, slimy and dripping with her hot juices. Reaching downward, he plunged three fingers into her pussy, collecting her juice and bringng it up ward to use to lubricate her anus. His dripping fingers slipped into her butt, opening it and spreading the liquid around, then he withdrew them and positioned his cock for the entry. Slowly her sphincter opened as the head of his big cock sunk into her, and he pressed forward slowly but powerfully, opening her wide as it sank further into her back door hole. "Ohhh... unhhh... go slowly, please -- you are so big..." More and more of his eight inches slid into her asshole. Before he was halfway in, he stopped, then began an equally slow withdrawal till just the head was inside her tight butt, then pressed forward a bit more quickly and a bit more deeply, gradually stretching her for action. Meanwhile, he and reached downward beneath her and his finger splayed with her hard hot clitoris, stimulting her even more. Her own hand was pressing, squeezing and twisting her tits and nipples, sending even more pleasure through her already over-stimulated body as she felt the mixture of pleasure and of pain as he slowly but forcefully fucked her ass ever more and more deeply. She reached back and began to finger herself as he was -- their fingers meeting and playing together as well as playing with her cunt and clitoris. Finally he pressed forward all the way, his belly touching her ass as his cock buried itself fully in her tight, fully-stretched ass. Now he began to fuck her ass in earnest, stroking ever more rapidly in and out of her straining anus, stroking almost his entire length in and out, as his fingers dug deeply into her hot pussy and her fingers stroked and pinched and tweaked her own clitoris. "Ohhh... "she moaned "I am going to cum again... Are you ready?" "Unnhhh... yesss..." he gasped out, his hips bucking furiously against her ass as he slammed her ass again and again with his thick cock. He put his hands on her hips, pressing her forward and backward, using her body almost as a sex toy to masturbate his cock as he drove himself to what felt as it it was to be the greatest orgasm of his life... Suddenly with a gasping moan that was almost a scream, so intense was the pleasure, he clutched at her hips dragging her back hard against himself, and pressed his hips against her ass as if to try to force even more of his cock inside her asshole and she felt it twitch and swell inside of her and she clutched at her own cunt frantically, triggering herself to one more blasting, clutching, tearing orgasm as he pressed forward one more time and his balls spasmed and his hot white cum shot up his straining shaft and into her bowels and filled her and oozed out of her ass around his cock and dripped between their bodies onto their thighs and the sofa and he thrust twice more and another spurt filled her and neither of them had any strength left and they collapsed forward onto the couch, his cock still buried in her ass and they fell downward and the lights went out... After a few seconds, they both began to return to normal reality after the "little death" of orgasm, content to lay there on their sides, his hand cradling her breast, her ass still pressed against his hips, as his huge cock slowly shrank and slipped from inside her ass. Carefully, she slipped forward and off of his cock, kneeling in her stockings on the floor next to the couch. She reached out with both hands and fondled his shrinking cock, planting a little closed-lip kiss on the very tip. Then she stood, standing in front of him, with her cunt just about at his eye level as he lay on the couch, her feet planted wide apart, her cunt clearly visible above the blue hose, framed by the lacy garter belt, her hands on her hips and her shoulders back to show off her lovely tits at their best. A combination of his cum and her own juices dribbled slowly down her thighs and over the tops of her stockings. "Look at me, Gort Arbeit," she said. "Look at me, because tonight and for the rest of this weekend I am yours and you are mine, and I want you to see exactly what you have got for yourself." "Oh, I am looking... I promise you." With a smile, she turned and walked from the living room into the kitchen, the natural movement of her hips combining with the high heels she still wore giving her fine pear-shaped ass a motion that held his eyes magically. She rummaged in some drawers and cupboards, then ran water for a time; when she came back, she held a damp, warm washcloth, with which she carefully and lovingly (and erotically stimulatingly) cleaned all traces of their recent activity from his cock. "After all, darling," she said with an evil grin, as he groaned and twitched and she licked his cock and balls quickly as he began to rise again, "I wouldn't want to be thinking of him not having been cleaned since he's been there the next time he's in my mouth..." For the rest of the weekend, they were seldom out of bed... and, as likely as not, when out of bed they were having sex in the bathtub or on the floor or in the kitchen (he caught her by surprise as she bent over to get something out of a low cabinet and lunch burned rather badly before they noticed... ). On Monday morning, he reluctantly gave her a ride back to the ESU campus. Although they had exchanged phone numbers and made the usual promises, each somehow knew that they would not see each other often, if ever again. Their weekend had been so perfect, so saturated with rampant sex, that they would never equal it again... Not that each wasn't positive that the occasional quickie at lunchtime was a high probabality, either... She watched him drive out of sight, then, rather surprisingly, turned and walked off campus, down a hill and around a corner, till she came to a small store. Judging by its sign and its window displays, the store, called "Hot ags" was a boutique, specialising in sexy clothing and lingerie, and erotic apparatus and accessories. Roberta opened the door and stepped inside. The clerk behind the counter, dressed in a duplicate of the costume Marlene Dietrich had worn in "The Blue Angel", looked up from her book and the notes on Nietsche that she was taking for a Philosophy exam. "Hi, Bobbie" she said. "Hullo, Jo -- is she here?" "Sure. You know the way -- straight back, past the fitting rooms..." Roberta walked past the fitting rooms at the back of ths store, and opened the door marked "Storeroom" without knocking. Inside the room that she entered, which was certainly not a storeroom, a taller woman dressed in one of Mae West's better-known costumes sat behind a workbench, fiddling with something complex and electrical, gnawing on her lower lip as she made a fine adjustment. "How did it go?" asked the woamn. "Fine. He never guessed, Nikki." "I'm not surprised; we've been working on your training quite hard, and the Professor..." said Nikki, the owner of "Hot Rags". "Oh, yes -- 'the Professor'..." Roberta said in a sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes. "Yes, well... he means well. Okay, all of your stuff is in the special Fitting Room; and we'll take care of the other stuff till you're out again. Jo has some stuff picked out for your next night out that'll knock you dead..." Roberta walked back to the last fitting room, opened the door and went in. A garment bag hung on a hook, and a small grip sat on the floor. Slowly she removed her soft cashmere sweater and carefully folded it on the couch. She stepped out of her red patent leather spiked heels, and stood on the soft carpet in her blue hose. Slowly, rather reluctantly, she unzipped her leather miniskirt and stepped out of it, placing it on the couch beside the sweater. She unsnapped the garter belt hooks, and carefully, slowly, rolled the sheer blue silk hose down each leg, carefully folding them and putting them with the other clothing, then reached behind her and unhooked the back of the garter belt waistband and removed it, draping it over the clothes she had taken off. She opened the grip. Inside there was other clothing. She slipped with a grimace into a pair of plain white cotton panties, then donned a very plain pair of opaque white tights. Next, from the garment bag came a skirt of just less than mid-calf length in a neutral tan colour and almost aggressive plainness. Stepping into it, she zipped the waistband. From under the bench, she picked up a pair of tan suede Hush Puppies and stepped into them and tied the laces. For a moment she paused and stood facing the mirror. From the waist up, she was still the tousle-haired braless wild woman who had just spent the entire weekend fucking like a mink with a complete stranger. From the waist down, she was Nancy Nurse. With an even deeper sigh, she reached into the grip again and pulled out a plain white cotton bra, which she donned, fitting her tits as carefully as she could into its restrictive cups; she had never understood how any woman could breathe properly when wearing such a thing. Over the bra a nylon blouse of equal plainness and a slightly lighter shade than the skirt. And finally a jacket that matched ths skirt to complete the suit. While nicely enough made, the suit was not tailored to show off her figure to best advantage -- just an off-the-rack suit that fir her better than it should most, because her ideal proportions matched it perfectly. She combed her hair, then did it up in a knot at the back of her neck that controlled its length without being particularly attractive or unattractive. She packed her skimpy discarded clothing into the grip, then looked at herself one more time in the mirror as she perched her glasses firmly on her nose. She sighed one more time -- smiled sadly, muttered "... and so Super Slut once more dons her every-day guise as plain little Peggie Sue...", turned and left the room. If Gort had been passing the store as she opened the door and stepped out, he would never have recognised the drab woman with the almost mannish stride as the exotic girl he had spent the weekend with; which was not surprising as she had ceased to exist the moment Roberta left "Hot Rags" in her ordinary clothing, and would not exist again until the next time Roberta visited the store and Nikki worked her peculiar "magic" on her... Ten minutes later, Roberta walked into the private lab room in the Electronics Department where Dr. Capek was working on his Cybernetics project. The Professor, who looked startlingly like the late Boris Karloff, was writing some notes as he studied the results of some complex simulation he had just run on his workstation. She stood patiently, knowing that eventually he would turn and notice her and she could report. She was in no particular rush, and really felt little concern one way or the other at the prospect that she might stand here for an hour or more, as she had occasionally before, before Capek had time for her. Finally, Capek turned to face her. "Ah, ROBERTA, good! Did your weekend go well?" "Yes, Dr. Capek," she replied in a pleasant but completely neutral and emotionless voice. "I interacted with several persons, none of whom seemed to detect that there was anything out of the ordinary about me." "Very good. Did you encounter any situations where you were unsure how to react?" "No, Dr. Capek, basic routines plus the new heuristic supplements seem to handle most situations well." "What was the most stressful situation in which you found yourself, the most difficult to maintain your cover?" "I ate pizza and attended a rock concert with a chance acquaintance. He seemed to notice nothing that suggested that I was not a normal woman." (Had Capek happened to look closely at her face as she said this he might have been surprised by her faint expression of sad reminiscence. But he was looking at his workstation again.) "Good, good." He rubbed his hands. "Despite the new accumulators, you must be a bit low; you might as well begin download and sleep immediately. I have some new routines i want to try; I'll get them ready and upload them while you're sleeping." And he turned back to his terminal again. She stepped across the room, opening the door of what, at first glance, appeared to be an ordinary, albeit a bit large, steel cabinet. She kicked off her shoes, and turned around and stepped backward into the cabinet, closing the doors with handles set on their inside. Standing there in the darkness, she stepped backward into the supports built into the back wall, feeling the spikes of the charger punch through the heels of her tights and slip through her flesh and lock into the sockets implanted in her own heels. As current began to flow into her internal power accumulators, she reached behind her and found the comp-link cable. Pushing aside the knot of hair that covered the back of her neck, she carefully probed until she found the seam in her flesh that parted under exactly the correct pressure exposing the link socket implanted between her shoulders, and connected herself. Roberta Rossum With the connection, her internal processors began their automatic shutdown cycle as the computer began to upload her experiences for the last three days and download the new program routines Capek had developed. Just before she lost the last sense of self, she smiled -- because Capek had no idea just how successful the combination of a virus in his program code and the techno-"magic" that "Hot Rags"'s owner had performed to help a confused and frightened young "woman" had been at producing a computer intelligence that could pass the Turing Test in an extreme form... And he never would. And in the main computer, the Artificial Intelligence that was Rossum Series 2, ROB(ot) E(xperimental) R(adical) T(uring) A(ssessment), continued to plot her eventual total download and final escape from Capek's domination. And now she had somewhere to escape to...