The Girlfriend Experience

by Aubrey Parker

  Vivian used her fingers first, sliding in and out of Chloe’s pussy. Her tongue came next. It was wet and soft, then firm as it licked Chloe’s clit.

  After a few minutes, Steven came again, thrusting up into Vivian even harder than he had the first time. That was the orgasmic progressor he sometimes wore, Chloe realized. The tiny capsule slipped in his ass, its small bots programmed to stimulate his prostate. If Steven had the accompanying response module in his brain (which of course he would; any man as enhanced as Steven wouldn’t use yin without yang) then they were all in for a hell of a ride.

  The number of orgasms a man could have with a progressor rig was limited only by his self-control. His orgasms would grow progressively stronger. The combination made it difficult to stop. Chloe had never been with a man who’d used one, but she’d heard the frightening yet no doubt arousing stories.

  Vivian rose, then guided Chloe onto the deck. A cloud formed in the effervescing pool as Steven’s spilled seed lipped out of Vivian’s crotch and floated. Steven rolled out and pressed a button on the pool’s controls. The water flashed blue. A sort of net moved quickly from one end of the pool to the other (small robots again, though not nanos), vanishing when it encountered the far wall.

  Chloe laid back. Vivian climbed on top of her, opposite and above in a 69. Chloe felt weak; she was fully in her role, full of lust. Her legs fell open. Steven’s dick plunged inside her a moment later, Vivian still licking her clit. Steven grunted and groaned, a third orgasm building. Chloe rolled her head to the side, two fingers still in the wet slit above her, to watch.

  His eyes closed. He thrust faster.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth, Vivian!” Steven gasped.

  Then he pulled out, stroking his monster.

  He pumped with his fist as Vivian opened her mouth and waited, her fingers burying themselves deeper in Chloe’s pussy.

  Steven chose a showy finish, unloading an inch from Vivian’s mouth, soaking her lips and tongue.

  “Again!” Vivian shouted.

  Almost immediately, Steven came again, this time with an even heavier volume. Despite her cloud of ecstasy, Chloe had the presence of mind to find it absurd. Where was all that sperm coming from? Were his penile pyrotechnics hot … or was it just fucking weird?

  And inside her mind, Andrew actually seemed to laugh.

  All that come spurting from him looks like ropes, Andrew’s voice said. Climb aboard, Chloe!

  With her pussy throbbing, Chloe’s emotions were all in a jumble. She almost laughed herself, burying the inappropriate snort with a volley of moans.

  And still Steven continued to come, Andrew’s mockery growing louder inside her mind, making Chloe want to laugh even harder. She fought the feeling, waiting for the assault to end.

  But it wouldn’t end. Stringer after stringer of semen spurted from Steven’s cock to coat his wife’s face, shooting between the two women’s bodies and warming Chloe’s lower stomach. Runnels drizzled over her pussy lips, running in the crease between Chloe’s legs and snatch.

  Vivian’s wet mouth went to Chloe’s pussy, licking and lapping, and Chloe’s own juices mixed with Steven’s abundant streams. But now Vivian’s ministrations felt more ridiculous than arousing. How could she be turned on with this sideshow of orgasmic fireworks?

  Is this what your normal workday is like, Chloe? And then she could almost see Andrew’s face turn sarcastic. I mean: fucking REALLY.

  But to Steven and Vivian, at least, nothing about the scene was worth sarcasm. It wasn’t over the top. It wasn’t too much. It wasn’t absurd or funny. It was … just how their sex life was.

  Another feeling hit Chloe. She slid back, peeling away. Suddenly she was uninterested. Suddenly, she’d had enough.

  Steven came. And came. And came. Like a fire hose. And Vivian, seemingly oblivious to Chloe’s absence, rolled in the deluge. Her moans were too enthusiastic. Streams from Steven’s cock were thick and strong, landing all over Vivian in spatters. Only after it had gone on for minutes did Steven seem to rein himself in and pull back, finally clenching with effort.

  Vivian looked over. She seemed a bit surprised to see that Chloe had moved out of the line of fire, but she smiled all the same. Satisfied was satisfied, and Chloe had more than done her job.

  “Thank you, Chloe,” Vivian said. “You can stay with us, or you’re free to go.”

  Chloe rose. She wiped herself down. She smiled and said pleasant goodbyes. And then she left.

  Something was wrong now.

  Something was different, and Chloe didn’t like it at all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Parker and Alexa were alone in the boardroom. It felt wrong to meet in the big, moodily lit room without Olivia, Houston, Charisma, and Benson, but Alexa wanted to be able to review Chloe’s footage if needed.

  She stood, feeling the quiet. It was strange that in such a hyperconnected age — light years from the Internet she’d known as a kid — they were still slaves to location. Holo immersion could put a facsimile of a person in a seat at a boardroom table, but the Six still felt the need in person.

  They all had canvases that could access The Beam beta network, but as secret as The Beam was, the Six had still cut the cord to protect their deepest secrets. And for that reason, the Chloe Shaw footage was all on a spindle drive under the boardroom table, and nowhere else.

  The drive’s only connections were to the table’s projector. Even the projector connections were wired, because with an asset like Chloe on the line they couldn’t take the chance of a hacker snooping a signal from the air.

  “I don’t like meeting here,” said Parker, pulling out his usual chair. He didn’t sit, but instead stood behind the chair, rocking in short arcs on its pivoting backrest. During board meetings, Parker always sat immediately.

  “Is that like, ‘We have to stop meeting like this’?”

  Parker finally sat, eyes on the empty chairs. “Like that, yes. Except that this time, I mean it literally.”

  “Relax, Parker. This isn’t anything the others wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Really? Is that why you’re not bringing it up at an official meeting? Is that why, in the past, we’ve met at your apartment?”

  “The others would cause problems. They’re not forward-thinking. Houston’s an aggressive businessman and a smart toymaker, but he sucks at taking acceptable risks outside his field. Olivia’s too skeptical. You heard her yesterday.”

  “And every day,” Parker added.

  “Charisma and Benson? They think this whole thing is an artistic venture. I keep trying to make it clear, but they don’t get it. I’ll tell them what we need footage of, and they’ll suggest some other way to get a better shot. They can’t wrap their head around the idea that this is research, not the creation of some magnum opus. But Benson was so jazzed about the idea of putting Chloe in a video that he can’t even hear me. And Charisma will always side with him.”

  “Sit, Alexa,” said Parker. “Your standing is annoying.”

  Alexa sat. “Am I less annoying now?” she asked.

  “Yes. I feel less annoyed.”

  Alexa shook her head, amused by his obvious nerves. “You didn’t use to be like this. Remember the Eros days?”

  “Like you’d let me forget. I used to think you were looking for digital Jesus.”

  “And do you remember why we acquired the others?”

  “Did we acquire them? I thought it was a partnership.”

  “Hell, Parker. Are you afraid of being overheard?”

  Parker looked around the boardroom. Given the late hour and the fact that O headquarters was entirely deserted, it seemed unlikely. There was even a readout built into the desk’s center to track redundant and highly secure audio pickups. If any blipped red, it meant sound was leaking from the room.

  “No,” he said.

  “Then what’s with you?”

  “It feels wrong to piss on the others in … you know, here.”

 
“I’m not pissing. You know as well as I do that we needed Olivia’s brothels, Houston’s toy empire, and the Youngs’ corner in the visual market to make this company work. They brought capital and assets. We brought strategy.”

  “Too bad we couldn’t make it work with Turner’s Syndicate. They brought more capital and would have left strategy to us.”

  Alexa shrugged. “Water under the bridge. We don’t know how much the Syndicate might have interfered. The $100 billion they were willing to invest would have gone to LiveLyfe, Forage, ad networks owned by other Syndicate members, who fucking knows — and, of course, Anthony and his self-improvement co-agenda. That’s a lot of cooks. We got the same result with six people and a tenth of the budget.”

  “And it only took half a century.”

  Again, Alexa shrugged. “Funny. I don’t feel or look any older.”

  Parker, who also didn’t look any older, finally seemed to relax.

  “This is better,” Alexa said. “The Syndicate moved on to their next initiative and we went our separate ways to find ours. Anthony and Caitlin vanished — more power to them. I’m happier with only six hands on the wheel.”

  “‘The Six control O. We control the Six,’” Parker recited. It was an old play on words, also from decades past. Alexa might have found it funny if the room’s mood hadn’t been a bit ominous — her assurances to Parker notwithstanding.

  “Exactly. We needed assets, leverage, and connections from the other four, but they needed our brains even more. We’ve always been the brains, no matter what this board’s supposed policies say. We must provide O’s strategy. It’s why we’re here. The strategists need to strategize. Unfortunately, our chosen structure gives two-thirds of the voting power to the capital partners. If we’d had the money, I’d have tried to buy them out. But this was the only way to make it work, and …” She sighed. “Well. It is what it is. So if you’re through feeling guilty—”

  “I don’t feel guilty, but do think they might not appreciate us making unilateral decisions.”

  “It’s R&D, Parker. More ‘R’, if you want to get technical. It’s not like we need to formally file a report. An expense is an expense. I need your signature. And your brain.”

  “But the signature more,” said Parker.

  Alexa frowned. Parker was practically pouting. It was an unbecoming thing on him, a man whose confidence typically edged arrogance. But pouting and pride often fell parallel, and it was hardly the first time Parker had done it.

  “I thought you might like a chance to be on my side after what you said today.”

  “About hurting Chloe and hence hurting ourselves?” He laughed. “I’m not taking that back.”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  Parker nodded slowly. “Yes, here I am. I guess.”

  “Which is why I figured you might have felt like a big asshole hypocrite contradicting me earlier,” said Alexa. “You agree we need to snoop into Chloe’s background. We need to launch not just a personal investigation, but an anonymized AI search on The Beam and Crossbrace. That’s okay, but snooping on her sex life is a problem? Have more sense than that, Parker.”

  “It’s not the snooping I object to.” He shifted, then corrected himself. “I mean, that I expressed concerns about.”

  “So you’re not objecting.”

  “Not to the snooping. I let you win the vote, didn’t I?”

  “Jesus Christ, Parker. Spit it out. Stop being so fucking holy. Nobody knows better than me what you did as a sex therapist. And nobody knows better than all six of us what we’ve done to ensure this country’s sexual freedom. And our profits, of course. You aren’t allowed to take a righteous stance. So we sent Andrew in to bed Chloe. Big fucking deal. It’s no different than what we do for clients all the time. But somehow then it’s a reward, whereas with Chloe you seem to think it’s manipulative.”

  “The bonuses with clients are always casual sex. These two are actually dating. We’re playing at love, not just lust.”

  “Because that’s how she steered it,” said Alexa, rolling her eyes. “We didn’t send Andrew in any different than Vic, really. He was supposed to take her back home and fuck her, without the cheesy lines. He decided to sit down and chat her up, but you know as well as I do that her response dictated it. She played him more than he played her, and it’s not our fault Chloe thinks she’s in love.”

  “I don’t think she was playing him.”

  “Which is exactly why it’s so valuable! This is what she looks like when she’s not performing, which makes it the perfect asset!”

  Parker shook his head.

  “Just stop it, Parker. You want out, fine. I’ll partition our Chloe development, and you don’t have to hear another damned thing about it. The other four and I will meet without you, and we’ll make sure you don’t receive any of the dirty profits, and—”

  “Stop being such a cunt, Alexa. Just … let’s move on.”

  “You want out?”

  Parker crossed his arms.

  “Do you want out?” Alexa repeated.

  “Of course I don’t want out. What’s done is done. You don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

  Alexa had the answer she needed, but didn’t want to let it go. Parker could be such a self-righteous ass. From the start, he’d tried to play both sides — doing what was necessary but trying to take the moral high ground so as not to sully himself with dirty hands. Even the patients he’d lost had “gone too far due to their own choices,” never mind that they hadn’t been in right enough minds to decide while Parker was at the controls, waivers duly signed and notarized.

  Alexa saw something else, and realized a consistency in Parker throughout Chloe’s time at O: her interview, her testing, every move that involved her. It was funny enough to get Alexa laughing out loud the second it dawned on her.

  “You like her!” she blurted.

  “Oh, that’s hysterical.”

  “You do! You’ve been in her corner from the start!” Alexa lowered her voice. “You know, Parker … I don’t mind if you want to literally get in her corner. She’s for hire, after all.” Alexa laughed again. “But that’s not what you want. You want the whole Girlfriend Experience, don’t you?”

  “Fuck off, Alexa.” Parker stood to leave.

  He made it two steps toward the door before Alexa stood and called him back.

  “Oh, sit down, Romeo. I take it back. Chloe’s just an exceptionally talented prodigy in whom you have interest as an asset. You aren’t trying to save her. You don’t care if her heart gets broken. You aren’t secretly hoping it happens when you’re around to make it all better. And whatever anyone says, you are absolutely not playing both sides: meeting with me here in secret and meeting with everyone to argue against me. Because playing both sides — and I’m being totally honest here — isn’t your style, Parker Barnes.”

  Alexa’s mocking stare was a challenge, but his ego would never let her win. She knew it, so she sat back down, leaving her sarcastic retraction hanging.

  Parker sat back down. Alexa chuckled a final time, then pushed the debate to the back of her mind. Poking Parker was fun and it had knocked him from his high horse, but she didn’t want to push him so far he wouldn’t snap back. The other four were glorified subsidiary spokesmen, and Parker had brought little, asset-wise, when they’d formed the Six. He’d earned his place above and beyond the others — alone suited to stand at Alexa’s side for the biggest decisions — through brains and guts alone.

  “So, what did you find?” Alexa’s voice was slightly south of authoritative, her pitch almost conciliatory.

  Parker was plagued by self-doubt. He’d take the chance to forget a slight against him in a second. Alexa had given him that chance by asking him to report in, and he was going to take it.

  “Not a ton. Her mother is Nicole Shaw, currently of Voyos. Nicole was never married. Grandparents were Paulette and Amos Shaw. Paulette is deceased since 2029. Amos still lives in Brookly
n. Her father is unknown, even by the spa. Nicole worked through her pregnancy, in the fetish areas. Did quite well, as I understand. Nothing remarkable about the birth or the pregnancy. Chloe was born January 3, 2040. 7 pounds, 6 ounces. Voyos home birth, assisted by a midwife — the norm on Voyos even today.”

  “How can her father be unknown?” asked Alexa.

  “That’s how guys are,” said Parker. “I’ll explain it to you. See, someone dumped a load in Nicole’s meat slipper and then left, because he’d done what he came to do. That load grabbed an egg, made sweet love to it, and then—”

  “But Nicole was working Voyos at the time?”

  “Yes. Since back when it was Olivia’s Wellness Four. She’s worked there since she was 18, like Chloe. Unlike Chloe, she never graduated from tables to freelance.”

  “Voyos allows freelance?”

  “They did at the time. I still think they should, personally. Guys — or girls, hell — see someone fucking in front of them or above them all through dinner and sometimes wonder what it would be like to taste the fruit. If O won’t let them work with clients because of quality control, why not let them earn a few credits on the side? Clients understand it’s not an official O job, so the fact that they’re fucking a glass table girl in the back room is no reflection on us. It’s still building anticipation, because who wouldn’t want to come back after forming that bond?”

  “Bond? Is that what you call it?”

  “Point is, the spa uses radio sterilization, and it’s not like that kind of thing has been improved upon since Chloe was born. Sperm are either dead or they’re not. It’s a lot like the systems we have today, and equally effective.” Parker paused. “And on a separate topic, I’d like to sue this company because I think it has impaired my ability to have children.”

  “But there could have been a glitch. An outage. She could have fucked Superman behind a lead wall that somehow prevented the sterilization from being effective.”

  “How, Alexa? Nicole worked the spas for years before getting pregnant. Eggs die under that kind of day-in, day-out exposure, too, you know. And while I’ll admit that sometimes I fail to successfully navigate a vagina, I’m pretty confident eggs don’t regenerate. Nicole should have been like an empty gum machine.”