by Lila Shaw
That’s when I realize that Adam is still thrusting.
“Almost,” he grits out before he suddenly stops with a long, loud groan. I catch myself from falling backwards because his grip on me has gone slack.
I rise up off his cock, still rock hard, and turn to inspect him.
His eyes have rolled back into their sockets; his mouth is frozen into a macabre grin that borders on a grimace.
“Adam?” I pat his cheek. “Adam?” I seize him by the jaw and turn his head from side to side. I’m almost ready to flip open his circuitry panel to check for a blown fuse when he suddenly blips back into consciousness.
“Yes, my love?”
“Just making sure you were still functional.”
“Simply discharging my static electricity stores.” He draws me in close and wraps his arms around me.
“What are you doing now, Adam?” I ask, somewhat puzzled by his post-coital tenderness. I add this to his growing list of non-organic intelligence markers.
“Cuddling, my love. Would you prefer that I initiate another round of intercourse instead?”
I nestle in close and sigh. I have done well. “Cuddling is good … for now.”
Chapter Four
I dream of Lyle. He comes to me as I lie in my bed and sits on the edge watching me. “I will always come when you call for me, my dearest heart.”
His presence does not alarm me. “Kiss me.” I reach my arms up to grasp him by his jacket fronts and pull him down to me.
He offers no resistance but shifts easily into my arms, lying atop me with only the thin coverlet separating us. Lips descend slowly to sip and taste mine, the softest brush to ignite my need further.
“More,” I whisper against his lips.
With a groan, he kisses me again, parting my lips with his. His tongue slides against mine, does not invade but tantalizes. Our breaths mingle, steaming in and out through our noses as the kiss deepens. His groans answer mine and I am on fire.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Letty,” he says shifting his lips to my jaw. There he nips then licks his bites with his tongue before inching closer to my neck. “But devil take me, I want you so much, I ache.”
My hips rock and undulate beneath his—coaxing, inviting, begging. “You can’t hurt me in my dreams.”
He lifts his head to peer into my eyes—his sorrow is painted in thick, ugly brushstrokes across his face—and then he is gone.
I wake to a pair of deep green eyes staring at me. “Adam?”
A grin blooms on his handsome face. “Adam? Is that what you named him? How biblical of you, Violet.” He straightens and roars with laughter.
On the bed, behind my back, a body stirs to life. I roll over and squeak at the twin of the man I’ve just woken to. “Adam?”
“Yes, my love,” says the male lying next to me.
“Oh, my God!” I sit bolt upright and cover my breasts with the sheets. Now that the sleep scales have fallen from my eyes and my brain, I understand my situation. “Lyle! How did you get in here?”
“Never mind that, you clever girl. What the deuce have you been making?” A few strides of his long legs carry him to the other side of the bed where Adam lies. “Adam? Is that your name?”
Adam sits and turns to me. “Who is this man, Violet, my dearest?”
Lyle’s eyes grow wider. “Good Lord, he sounds exactly like … me!” He reaches out a hand and pokes Adam in the cheek. “Not nearly as good-looking though.”
“I am not a lord,” Adam tells Lyle gravely, and I can’t help but snicker at the shocked expression on Lyle’s face. “I belong to Violet. By what name shall I address you?”
“You may call me … Lord Cocksucker,” Lyle says mocking my creation.
Adam laughs, sounding so like the man he was modeled after. “Lord Cocksucker. That is an interesting name. I like to have my cock sucked. Do you?”
Lyle sits on the bed next to Adam. “Oh, yes I do, very much. You’re quite a lucky man if Violet sucks your cock. Does she?”
“Sometimes. Today I fucked her. It was our first time to have sexual intercourse, and I liked it very much. Violet is all any man could ever want in a lover.”
“Yes, I dare say she would be. Lucky you, my friend.”
“Lyle!” Both Lyle and Adam face me, one a pale replica of the other. “Adam, go to sleep now, please.”
“As you wish.” Adam lies supine and closes his eyes.
Lyle’s eyes drift to the tent Adam’s erect penis has created beneath the sheet. He reaches out and wraps a hand around the center pole. “A crude copy but nowhere near as grand as the real thing. Still, I applaud your taste.” He casts a smirk my way. “However, I’m really wondering but one thought at this moment and that’s … why?”
“Why?” I blink and wonder how much I should tell him. Given the extent of what he has discovered, I suppose no further harm can be dealt by sharing the why of Adam.
“Yes, why an inferior copy when you could have the superior original at the snap of your fingers?”
“Adam doesn’t drain me. He recharges me. Therein lies the critical difference. Adam gives me what I need with the utmost discretion. Adam—”
“Is not me,” he offers with a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
I have to break eye contact, can’t have him seeing the regret I feel over the truth in his words. In a perfect world, I would have Lyle and I would love him, because a part of my heart has always yearned for him—his easy wit, his engaging discourses and his appreciation of my intellect and abilities other than those my anatomy provide. In that utopia I would finally fill the void in me, and not just the one between my legs. But I cannot reveal that to him, and instead I say what must be said. “No. He is not you.”
Long, agonizing seconds tick by and neither of us speaks. Lyle finally rises. I don’t watch him, but I hear him walk to the door, unlock it and leave. The telltale ticking of Adam’s inner workings slow and then halt.
I drop my head into my hands. What have I done, making Adam as close a copy of Lyle as my artistic abilities could accomplish? Why have I not realized this sooner? Maybe if Lyle had stayed away like I had asked… Even if I change Adam’s face, the voice is pure Lyle and that will always be enough to keep him fresh in my heart.
Suddenly the door bursts open, halting my recriminations. “Lyle!”
He rushes to my side and sits next to me. Taking my hand, he gazes at me, his energy crackling and electrifying the air around us. “You said Adam recharges you.”
“Yes. That is his primary purpose.”
“Would he recharge you enough to recover from me?” Wild green eyes entreat and seek to instill understanding, begging for…
My jaw and the penny drop in tandem. I scramble out of the bed, not even bothering to don a robe, and rush into my laboratory. I grab two bricks of coal and several of my tools. “If I can set Adam to function with greater intensity—greater force, speed, more simultaneous motions—maybe he can—oh, let’s just see first.”
“Yes, yes! Exactly what I was thinking and hoping. Adam satiates you beyond your needs and I take the rest.” Lyle hands me my robe. “May I assist you? I’ve always had a fondness for steam and clockwork powered machines, and your skill with this automaton is absolutely amazing!” He moves to Adam’s side of the bed and pulls back the sheet.
My pride swells at his words of praise. I didn’t think I would ever be able to share my achievement with anyone, let alone the incubus—no, the man—who inspired him.
“Let me refuel him first. That needs a little time to get going.” I scurry over to the coal burning stove heating my laboratory and extract a few glowing coals with my tongs. “These will serve as starters. Add two fresh coal briquettes to sustain him. Could you hand me that jug, please? I need to top off his water reserves, then I’ll just need to tweak a few gauges that regulate the flow of the steam powering to his gears.”
The panel in Adam’s side easily slides open with slight pressure from m
y fingertips. “Hand me those needle-nosed pliers and hold the lantern overhead so I can see better, please.”
Lyle does all as I ask and even anticipates other needs. He crowds in closer. A few screwdriver turns and another wire conduit added and Adam is clicking at an accelerated pace, his artificial heart pulsing with nearly the same excitement as mine. I glance up at Lyle who is grinning broadly, the shadows from the lantern dancing over his face and chest.
“Ready?”
“May I watch first?” he asks.
“Yes. Please. Once he’s in pleasure mode, he won’t respond to your voice, only mine.”
“Even though he shares it?” He is teasing me but I’m too keyed up to pay him any heed, and in truth, I find the notion quite exciting.
“Adam?” I touch my creation on his sensory activation panel.
Adam’s eyes flicker open and when he sees me, he smiles. “Yes, Violet.”
“Good morning, Adam. Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.” He sits up and glances from me to Lyle. “Lord Cocksucker! Always a pleasure to see you again.” Shifting his attention back to me he whispers, “Have you made another Adam, Violet?”
A giggle rises up within me, but I suppress it. “No, this man is your prototype.”
Adam’s handsome visage puckers as if in thought. He nods his head knowingly. “I see.”
I give Lyle a wink before continuing. “Let’s test a few of your motor functions, shall we? Adam, raise your right leg.”
As if flinching from a red-hot poker, his right leg shoots up. Lyle barely avoids its treacherous path.
“Try again, Adam, only a little slower this time.”
He does exactly as I ask. We go through a lengthy list of other motor skills that enable me to recalibrate Adam’s responses to my desired levels of enthusiasm.
When I think he is finally ready, I fix Lyle with my stare and remove my robe. His darkened eyes and appreciative perusal of my body gratify me. A filament of understanding passes between us as well as an overwhelming wave of lust and need.
I am entrusting my well-being to a potent, virile incubus and a machine running at levels beyond the capacity of the gauges I’ve installed. I will adjust those later. So much can go wrong. Lyle might drain me. Adam might crush me. I press my lips firmly together and think instead of what will go right.
I lie down next to Adam. “Adam. I am desirous of your copulatory skills.”
He turns his head and regards me with the most devilish smile, again surprising me with his quick ability to synthesize my responses and predict new ones. “Yes, my love.” He snaps into a side lying position and whispers a finger from my forehead, down over my nose and lips, down my throat and into the valley between my breasts. He replaces his finger with his mouth, pressing light kisses in the same path before returning to my lips.
I moan and kiss him, too, opening my lips to receive his tongue and sliding mine against it. As we kiss, his fingers tiptoe to my sex to fondle and explore, moving me to the limit of what I can bear without being more thoroughly penetrated.
Adam changes the angle of his head as he repositions himself on top of me. He’s heavy, but when I open my thighs, the pressure shifts from my chest to my hips. “You are so beautiful, my love,” he whispers. Those lips move to my neck where his tongue swirls against my skin in the heat from his mouth.
“Yes, Adam, I like that,” I say, my voice husky with need.
He supports more of his weight on his elbows. His hands move, his left threading through my hair to cradle my skull while the right skims over my breasts to my hips to my thighs. He pulls one leg higher. I wrap both around his narrow hips, pressing his rigid cock between us and moving against him.
Two new hands touch my legs and my eyes fly open. “Lyle!”
“Shh-shh-shh. Just trust me,” Lyle says. He rubs his hands along my calves and to my insteps, repeating the soothing caresses again and again.
Adam takes both my wrists in one hand and pins them over my head. He moves off and lies on his side next to me. His mouth latches on to a nipple where he sucks, his hot tongue bathing it in warmth. He hums and groans, tugging gently with his lips and offering the occasional scrape of his teeth.
Lyle moves his head in between my splayed legs. His breath fans my sex. His fingers grip and push my thighs to open me further to him.
My back arches up and I cry out when Lyle’s tongue plows a broad stroke between my folds then encircles but never touches my prime pleasure point. Adam ceases his suckling to smother my cries with a kiss. Lyle’s ministrations continue to torment me. I reach a hand down to push his head away, saying, “Stop! I’ll come, but it’s too soon.”
But he doesn’t. If anything, his mouth grows hungrier, his tongue more cruel as it dives deep inside my channel, always skipping past the neediest part of my sex. Adam, too, is busy applying that marvelous mouth to my breasts, my neck, my ears and my lips.
“Adam,” I can barely get the words out between gasps and kisses. “Watch Lyle, watch and learn.”
“Yes, my love. Is what he is doing pleasurable to you?”
“Oh, Lord, yes!” I cry out as again, Lyle’s tongue merely grazes my most aching parts.
“Then I will observe Lord Cocksucker as you wish.” He releases my wrists and shifts farther down the bed, but his hands never stop touching me.
I glance down at the two dark heads—one buried between my legs, its tongue greedily lapping my lover’s dew, the other resting on my mound of Venus, observing.
Lyle stops and pulls back. I catch his lust-glazed eye as he peers up at me. “Violet. Tell Adam to fuck you. Now!”
“Adam, I need—”
“I know what you need,” Adam growls and quickly scrambles back between my legs. He positions the engorged head of his cock at my entrance and drives forward, stretching and filling me. He pulls back and surges forward again, moving even deeper.
“Merciful heavens, yes!” I shriek.
As Adam settles into a slow, gentle rhythm, Lyle rises up on his knees and strips off his shirt, exposing powerful broad shoulders and a lean but heavily muscled chest and stomach. His skin is sun-kissed, darker than Adam’s, and covered in fine dusky hairs that have collected over his pectoral muscles before joining in the middle to form a path leading below the waistband of his breeches. The bed shakes as he jumps off to remove the last of his clothing.
He moves to the head of the bed and pulls my head to his cock, which rises up tall and proud from a thatch of ebony hair. I take his member into my mouth reaching for his sac beneath to give the soft balls inside a gentle squeeze. Lyle throws his head back and groans as I suck his cock and fondle his sac. I take as much of his length inside my mouth as I can, and when he hits the back of my throat, I arch my neck to grant him further passage. Adam kisses the pulse point beneath my ear, whispering all the endearments I taught him.
“Oh, Violet,” Lyle grits out. His hips rock. He fucks my mouth with his cock while Adam does the same to my quim.
Lyle pulls out, muttering something about not wanting to come yet and that he can’t believe how close he is. I know what I need to do.
“Faster and harder, Adam. Make me come.” I capture Adam’s mouth with mine and push my tongue against his, fucking his mouth with the same speed and aggressiveness as I’m demanding from his cock. He understands and matches the rhythm, hips pumping his cock deep inside me, ruthlessly plundering my depths. Our bodies slap together with increasing force and I think I’m going to tear apart, he’s so large and aggressive in his mating.
“Violet, take him from above, if you need a respite.” Lyle brushes the hair off my face and kisses my forehead.
“Adam, stop!” I bark. He does, without even a second’s hesitation. “Get off me and lie on your back.” He murmurs a few words of acquiescence and does that, too, helping me move into position atop him, like the magnificent stallion he is.
“Ride his cock, Violet,” Lyle says, moving behind me. “Take
his cock deep inside your pussy. I wish it were me fucking you. God knows, I wish it were me.”
Adam reaches between his legs and holds himself steady for me. I position myself over his organ and fall down his full length, I’m so slick with excitement. When I bottom out, I can only groan.
Lyle touches and rubs my shoulders and my back. He holds me by the ass and moves me up and down Adam’s length. “You like that, sweetheart? You like riding that machine you made?”
“Yes!” I cry from between gritted teeth. My voice shakes from my bouncing on top of Adam, who is whimpering and chattering a series of ‘yes, yes, yes’s’ beneath me.
“Lean forward,” Lyle says. He pushes me in that direction and a hand skates over the right globe of my ass. A finger squeezes in with Adam’s cock inside my cunny. “You’re so wet, Violet,” he says withdrawing the finger to press it against sensitive nerves of my rectum. “Shall I take you this way? Fuck your ass while a machine does the honors to your cunt?”
I can’t answer him. I’m too close to coming around Adam’s cock. My muscles are tightening from the nearly unbearable tension building inside. Flutters in my belly, lightheadedness, all the signs of my imminent release are lining up to knock me off the cliff into the chasm below.
It’s the slow push of Lyle’s cock up my ass while Adam slams into my cunny from below that sends me hurtling into oblivion. I am falling and flying, falling and flying, and in the distance, beyond the rhythmic whooshing of my own pounding pulse in my ears, both Lyle and Adam are grunting rhythmically as they rut into me.
With a shout, Lyle surges forward one last time and stills as he spends, panting with each surge of his ejaculation. I wait for the telltale weakness Lyle is draining me to kick in, but it never comes. Instead, he grunts again and thrusts into me a few more times, giving a long extended groan as he finishes taking what he needs. I give Adam a tap on his shoulder to trigger his completion routine. He strokes into me one, two, three more times before roaring in a mockery of an orgasm.
“You were exquisite, my love,” both men say in identical voices and in perfect unison, as if they’d read from a common script.