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Crossed Wires
By Anonymous (address withheld)

***

Sometime in the future folks have access to 'simulation 
technology' where they can experience things in the 
privacy of their own home, such things as a walk in the 
park on a sunny day, or skydiving... or great sex. 
Technology is great -- when it works -- but then there 
are the times when it doesn't work, but even then it 
can be interesting. (MF, tg, sci-fi)

***

"Chris, you're positively leering!" Donna scolded.

I tried to hide my guilty blush by turning all my 
attention to checking the electrode contacts. But it 
was too late, I'd been caught.

"You're planning to grow yourself to 10 inches again! 
You are! I've told you I won't suck that thing if it's 
an inch above 8. Aha! You're blushing. I'm on to you! 
You change the program right now, Chris, or I swear I 
won't do the sim with you."

"But you won't mind how big I am during the sim," I 
protested. "In fact you'll love it."

"Of course I'll love it 'cause it's a sim. But I'll 
remember every detail when I come out of it and it's 
the principal of the thing!"

Heaving an exaggerated sigh I slipped off my wrist 
electrodes and turned to the console. It had been worth 
a try, but I'd pushed my luck too far the last time 
when I programmed the simulation to enlarge my member 
to an unprecedented 12". I'd even taken the precaution 
of creating a doctored tape measure within the sim so 
that if she tried to call me on the length I could 
conclusively demonstrate I was "only" 8. But Donna had 
seen through that ploy and now was showing me she meant 
business.

Putting on my most contrite expression I quickly called 
up the body editor and reduced the cock length from 10" 
to 8 1/2". She won't notice that extra half inch, I 
reflected.

Despite this small setback I had reason to be proud. 
Over the past few days I'd programmed this sim down to 
the minutest details. When activated the system would 
plunge Donna and myself into a virtual world 
indistinguishable from the real one in all but two 
important respects: we'd have the kind of bodies that 
one only sees in porn flicks, and we'd be able to make 
use of those bodies in all sorts of fun ways without 
tiring, getting sore, bruising each other, or worrying 
about "consequences".

"You're gonna love it, Donna. This is my best yet. You 
won't forget this one." I gave her a lascivious wink. 
"You'll need a PDA just to keep track of your orgasm 
count!"

She grinned. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do 
it!"

One last check of the wrist electrodes. Green leads for 
Donna, red leads for myself. The programmer always gets 
the red leads because they carry the control lines. I 
couldn't suppress another little grin as I remembered 
the alternative names for the red and the green leads: 
"master" and "slave". 

I wondered whether Donna knew how appropriate those 
names really were. Did she appreciate exactly how much 
of my programming effort was spent specifying exactly 
what emotional and bodily sensations she'd feel during 
the course of the sim so that she'd perform according 
to the exact script of my erotic fantasies?

Nothing left to do but hit the activator switch. A 
slight buzzing at the wrists, a momentary feeling of 
pressure and then...

Here it was, exactly as I'd designed it. The sim had 
dropped us into the interior of a beach house whose 
floor plan I'd shamelessly copied from the October 
edition of the AIA journal. Outside, a clear, moonless 
night and the distant sound of breakers. Inside, a 
rather eccentric style of interior decoration. Couches, 
futons, beanbag chairs, hammocks, and pillows galore. 
Anything and everything that you ever might want to 
fuck in, on or under. Not a table or hard chair in 
sight. (We weren't there to eat, after all.) 

I glanced over to the ladder that led to the sleeping 
loft. Looked good. Unobtrusive cabinets set in the 
walls here and there would open to reveal a panoply of 
useful toys. Mirrors of course, not too many to be 
vulgar, but enough. I sniffed the faint salt breeze, 
ran my hands over the rough surface of pine paneling. I 
beamed in delight. Visual, aural, olfactory and somato-
sensory channels were all working perfectly.

I had programmed the simulation to delay initiating the 
body morph for a few minutes. Donna had materialized a 
few yards away from me and was checking the place out, 
approvingly running her fingers over the patterned silk 
upholstery of one of the sofas. Her outline had a 
slightly shimmery look as she moved around relative to 
the background, but this would soon disappear as the 
sim's compensation routines kicked in. "Better get a 
good look around now, Donna," I thought to myself, 
"because in a couple of minutes all your attention is 
going to be taken up by something else entirely!"

The morph was beginning. I could feel the vibration in 
my groin and chest. In some ways this was the part I 
enjoyed the most. In a moment my limbs would start to 
bulge with musculature. My abdomen would harden, my 
pecs would swell. My stature would increase by an inch, 
my complexion would become impeccable, my teeth would 
become whiter than white and, of course... Well, as you 
already know, the crotch of my pants would bulge with 
the aforementioned eight-and-a-half inches of man meat 
and a pair of balls that would do a bull proud. Goodbye 
Chris Welch, average guy. Hello super-stud!

Wait. This didn't feel quite right. Was something 
wrong? Instead of the expected tightening at the crotch 
of my pants, things felt looser somehow. In fact there 
was this really bizarre shrinking sensation. Not just 
in my groin, but like my whole body was getting 
smaller. And those twin swellings on my chest that were 
making my shirt bulge: those weren't pectorals, those 
were...! 

I swung around to stare at the nearest mirror just as I 
realized what was happening. I was changing, my 
features melting with the rapidity of a bar of butter 
caught in the microwave. My chin receded, became 
delicate. My cheekbones became higher and more 
prominent and the ridge of my eyebrows less so. My nose 
shrank and assumed a pert upward turn at the tip. My 
lips swelled and reddened. Long eyelashes swept upward 
from limpid blue eyes. Blonde tresses caressed my 
shoulders.

I was so caught up in the horror and fascination of 
what was happening to my face that I almost missed the 
transformation of my body. Recovering myself I found 
that the changes below the neck were the match of those 
above. Firm, heavy breasts bobbed above a slender 
waist. Flaring hips and long sexy legs. My genitals? I 
started to reach downward for an inspection and then 
checked myself. I could guess what I would (wouldn't?) 
find.

The morph had finished with my body and was at work on 
my clothes. My flannel shirt took on a life of its own 
and squirmed snakelike across my chest, transforming 
itself into a translucent violet teddy with a neckline 
plunging to the navel and a hem that barely covered my 
ass. Starting at the ankles and working upwards, my 
pants began to evaporate, finally leaving a skimpy pair 
of filmy panties pulled tight across my ass crack and 
my snatch.

I stared at my image in the mirror, the truth slowly 
sinking in. The transformation was complete. I was the 
spitting image of Donna, or at least Donna as she might 
appear in the wet dreams of a sex-starved 15 year old 
with a perpetual hard-on. A steamy sex kitten with 
pouty lips, and languorous heavy-lidded eyes. A body 
that cried out to be fucked hard. In short, the body I 
had so carefully designed for my partner!

"What in hell trick are you pulling, Chris?" thundered 
a deep bass voice from behind me. A strong hand grasped 
my shoulder from behind. "Donna"! I thought as I 
whirled around, my tits bouncing around so much that I 
almost lost balance. Staring down at me with an 
expression of shocked amusement was... me. 

Me on steroids and a heavy exercise program. Donna had 
the body that I was supposed to be wearing. Everything 
from the athlete's musculature to the full chest of 
hair. She wore nothing but a black g-string, whose 
fabric was stretched to nearly the breaking point from 
the weight of its contents. With a height differential 
of nearly a foot, I had to crane my head upward to look 
into Donna's/my face. This was too disconcerting, so I 
settled for looking into the hollow at the base of her 
neck.

"This wasn't..." I broke off at hearing my new voice 
for the first time. Donna's voice, but pitched slightly 
higher and with an almost imperceptible lisp that gave 
it a cutesy girlish effect. I swallowed once and 
continued. "Donna, I didn't plan this. Something must 
have gone wrong with the sim. We'll have to abort.

"Computer, abort sim."

Nothing happened. I tried again in as authoritative a 
tone as my little girl voice would allow. "Computer, 
end sim immediately."

Still no response from the system. Not the slightest 
hiccup in continuity. Donna gently but firmly took my 
head in her hands and tilted my head so that I had to 
look her directly in the face. Distractedly I found 
myself wondering if I hadn't made the chin cleft too 
prominent. "What's the matter," she asked in her deep 
masculine voice, "can't you stop the sim?"

"The system doesn't seem to be responding to me. The 
identity recognition routines must have gotten 
scrambled somehow. If I don't have the control lines, 
you must. You'll have to do it Donna. Say 'computer, 
abort sim'."

She chuckled deep in her chest and slowly caressed my 
cheek. "But you promised me a sim that I wouldn't 
forget. I intend to take you up on your promise."

"Donna, you wouldn't," I whispered. "You don't know 
how."

Again a chuckle. "Then I'll just have to figure it out 
as we go along, won't I, my little lovebird?"

Outwardly I moaned as a sudden wave of erotic desire 
washed over me. Inwardly I cringed. By saying "little 
lovebird" Donna had inadvertently hit on one of the 
trigger phrases I had set up to activate certain 
behavior programs. Too late it occurred to me that it 
might be a mistake to use our pet names as triggers.

But this was no time for regret. I was in heat, my 
whole body aching to be touched, taken. I grasped 
Donna's hand and began to kiss and lick the fingers, 
savoring the salty taste of her (his?) skin. 

Putting a strong arm behind my back, she (he?) leaned 
down and kissed me roughly. Our lips met and parted, 
and her strong tongue explored my mouth. I felt like I 
was dissolving with pleasure. Every square inch of my 
skin tingled with delight. And this was just the first 
kiss. What would it be like to be mounted, I thought, 
to feel a penis push its way into the deep recesses of 
my cunt?

"Don't think such things," I shouted inwardly. "You're 
a man, not a woman!" But outwardly what I said was "Oh 
lover, you turn me on so much! Let's go find someplace 
comfortable."

"Whatever you want, kitten," my lover responded, 
triggering another set of preprogrammed responses. 
Donna picked me up, carrying my body effortlessly in 
her (his?) arms. She strode over to a double-size 
beanbag chair and tossed me on to it.

This most recent trigger had made me acutely aware of 
my tits. Settling myself into the chair I caressed the 
undersides of my boobs, pushing them up and together in 
order to emphasize my cleavage. With a long red 
fingernail I rubbed a tense nipple through the delicate 
fabric of my teddy while making sidelong glances at 
Donna. "Do you like my tits?" I lisped.

"Very impressive." Donna lay down beside me and 
squeezed my left boob with her sinewy hand. I let out a 
gasp of pleasure as lightning radiated outward from my 
nipple. "Size DDD aren't they?"

I pouted. "No sir. Not more than a D. I promise. Oh, 
please keep touching me there. Don't stop."

Donna did stop, though, so that she could tug open the 
top of her g-string and inspect the contents. "I see. 
Not more than a D. And I suppose this big piece of 
sausage is only 8 inches?" She tore off the flimsy 
fabric, revealing a rock hard erection.

In this woman's body I had no control over my 
expressions. I blushed a deep crimson from the roots of 
my hair down to my chest. "Well, not exactly. But it's 
only a half inch..."

Donna smiled and chucked me under the chin. "Under the 
circumstances I should be grateful. Besides, you're the 
one who's going to have to suck it," she fixed me with 
a sharp gaze and said deliberately "my little 
cocksucker."

I let out a sigh that was funny admixture of relief and 
sexual frustration. She hadn't hit on the right trigger 
that time. My tits were still at the center of my 
arousal. I would have given her a boob job in an 
instant, but the thought of oral sex didn't push my 
buttons just yet. I rubbed my nipples and imagined her 
thick cock slowly working its way in and out between my 
cleavage. I think I would have come that way in a few 
minutes, but Donna had others things in mind.

"Don't you want to suck on me, my lovebird?" she asked. 
Instantly my attention was again focused on the man's 
body next to mine. I rolled over onto her, and gave her 
such a long and passionate french kiss that it left me 
gasping. 

With a casual movement, Donna pushed the straps of my 
teddy off my shoulders so that my breasts came free, 
and I gratefully rubbed them against her chest hair, 
feeling delicious tingling sparks with every movement. 
I covered Donna's lips with numerous little kisses and 
bites, and then moved my mouth to the base of her neck. 
Moaning slightly, I ran my tongue back and forth in the 
hollow.

Donna put one hand on each shoulder and pushed. "I 
think it's time for fellatio" she insisted. I slid 
willingly about four inches, but when I saw her male 
nipples peeking out from underneath the curly chest 
hair I had the overwhelming desire to suckle. I took 
her right nipple between my lips and sucked and bit 
slightly. I was immediately rewarded by a taughtening 
of the little pink nipple and a ill-suppressed groan of 
pleasure. I giggled and continued suckling.

"Oh baby, that feels so good!" Donna cried out. But now 
new desires were surging through me. "Baby" was the 
trigger word for oral sex. I straightened up, propping 
my arms on my lover's shoulders so that I could look 
into her handsome face. "I want to suck you so bad," I 
said, licking my lips sluttishly. "I want to take your 
cock meat into my mouth and swallow it whole. I want to 
feel your great big balls bouncing against my chin and 
your great big cum fill up my mouth."

I felt so ashamed to hear these words come out of my 
mouth in that inane little girl's voice. There was 
nothing I could do. I had entered those words into the 
sim program several days before, and had not coded them 
as optional.

What had I coded as optional? Certainly not what 
happened next. My mind was filled with images of cock. 
Big cocks, little cocks, straight cocks, twisted cocks. 
And for each cock I had only one desire: suck on it 
deep and vigorously until it filled my mouth with 
semen. "Is this what it feels like to be gay?" I 
thought. "Am I going to be permanently changed by 
this?"

Moaning and giggling I kissed Donna's nipple goodbye. I 
kissed her rock-hard rectus abdominus muscles, 
flirtingly stuck my tongue into her navel, and then 
planted butterfly kisses in a semicircle above and to 
either side of her straining member. I found the 
adductor muscles on either side of the balls (the 
muscles of horse-riding and doggy sex, came the 
distracting thought) and playfully bit them. Then I 
grabbed the cock by its base and examined it closely 
for the first time.

It's hard to describe my feelings. My real self is 
confirmedly heterosexual. I knew that being so close to 
a man's cock, so close that I could smell its special 
scent, so close that I could feel its radiating warmth 
on my face, should have filled me with shame and 
revulsion. But the sim programming was completely 
dominant. Instead of revulsion I felt admiration. 

"Oh, it's sooooo big!" I exclaimed, and I meant it. I 
knew it was only 8 1/2 inches, but to my beglamoured 
eyes it could easy have been 12. And so thick around! I 
wasn't sure I'd even be able to get the thing past my 
lips but I was sure as hell going to try.

I cupped Donna's balls with my left hand while 
swiveling the cock closer to my mouth with my right. 
The balls were so gigantic that I couldn't hold them 
both comfortably in my petite hand. I sent out an 
experimental lick, just grazing the tip of the glans 
with the tip of my tongue. I looked up. Donna was 
watching with fascination. "Stop me. Stop the sim." I 
whispered hoarsely.

"But you love to do this, don't you?" she answered 
wickedly.

I couldn't reply. I had begun to lick the cock like a 
little girl tasting her first popsicle. From base to 
tip, over and over again, my moist tongue ran over the 
entire length of the organ. It had seemed rock hard 
when I started, but this treatment made it stiffen even 
further, gradually changing in color from pink to red 
to almost purple. 

Donna groaned out something incoherent. She seemed to 
like this. Parting my thick lips I took the glans into 
my mouth, delighting in the sweet flavor of pre-cum. 
Then I took the cock deeper, and deeper, and yet deeper 
into my mouth, until my nose was flush with the pubic 
hair and the cock was halfway down my throat. 

I have heard conflicting rumors about the reality of 
deep-throating. Certainly no woman has actually done 
that to me in real life. In sim, though, almost 
anything is possible, and I deep-throated Donna with a 
vengeance, her cock pushing its way down like a sword-
swallower's sword.

I don't know how long this went on. I was in ecstasy; 
sometimes deep-throating, sometimes licking and sucking 
on the shaft from the side, and sometimes bringing 
Donna right to the edge with a combined blow and hand 
job. When Donna began to buck and thrash around I knew 
she was ready. I carefully inserted the long red-
painted fingernail of my little pinky into her butt-
hole. This is what works with me, and since I 
programmed the sim it worked for Donna too. 

Instantly she began to come, crying out and pumping 
great wads of thick semen into my mouth. I tried to 
swallow it all, but it was too much for me and some 
dripped onto my chin and chest. Obsessed with the 
desire to have it all, I wiped it up with my hand and 
licked my fingers hungrily.

"Mmmmmm, that was nice," said the man with my voice and 
Donna's mind. He (she?) drew me up and languorously 
kissed my forehead before settling deeper into the 
beanbag chair. I enjoy napping after oral sex, so I'd 
built in some time for it in the sim. Donna would now 
sleep for about 10 minutes.

I knew what was coming next. Combined, the taste of 
semen and the sound of a sleeping man's rhythmic 
breathing were the trigger for the next scene of my sim 
fantasy, a scene in which Donna was supposed to play a 
solo role. But our roles were reversed. It was now my 
performance.

Until now my new cunt had not merited much thought. I 
couldn't help being aware of how hot and moist I had 
become during that first kiss and embrace, but until 
now the triggers that had been used had chiefly aroused 
the erogenous zones of my mouth and breasts. Now it was 
different. My cunt and clit became swollen and 
demanding of attention. Even the slightest movement of 
my legs created such sensations in my crotch that I had 
to struggle not to moan. 

Quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeper, I rose and 
tiptoed over to the other end of the room, reveling in 
every stride as cunt juices leaked out and moistened my 
inner thighs. I stopped at a velvet loveseat and turned 
it slightly to face a mirror. If I were going to do 
this, I thought, at least I'd do it right.

I stripped off my teddy and stood for an instant in 
front of the mirror in nothing but my damp panties. 
Quickly I stripped them off too and tossed them into a 
corner. Entranced, I gazed at myself. "Shamelessly 
hussy," I thought, as I looked at my pubes, shaved 
except for a little patch of blonde hair at the top. 
Still watching the mirror I lay down in the love seat, 
throwing one leg over the arm rest. 

"What does a clit feel like when it's yours?" I 
wondered, running my fingers gently over my vulva. I 
pushed just hard enough so that my cunt lips separated 
and a red fingernail brushed the clit. "Ooooooh!" I 
gasped, "that's what it feels like."

I masturbated eagerly, rubbing my clit first with one 
finger and then with two. I tried teasing it gently 
with flicking movements of my fingers. I tried rubbing 
it vigorously with the palm of my hand. I learned how 
to moisten it with my free-flowing cunt juices and rub 
it back and forth between my thumb and index finger. I 
pushed three fingers of one hand into my cunt while 
playing with my clit with the other, creating a most 
satisfying sensation.

And I came. Several times I think, each one more 
intense than the next. I must have screamed out, 
because when I came to I was lying on the floor beside 
the love seat, Donna beaming down at me with a slightly 
condescending smile. "Having fun?" she asked.

How embarrassing. "I think I've had enough for today," 
I lisped. "Let's go now."

"But how can we go now? We haven't screwed yet. You 
wouldn't want to leave without getting laid, would you? 
My little bed bug... my lizard... my spring chicken... 
my pop tart..."

Donna was running down the list of my pet names for 
her, watching me intently for signs to indicate that 
she'd hit a trigger. Not only did she hit one, she hit 
several in succession. I reeled dizzily under the rapid 
fire of one erotic fantasy after the next. At last I 
shouted out "Oh god, fuck me now! Fuck me now!"

Donna got the hint. "Let's do it in the loft." She 
strode over to the ladder and climbed it two rungs at a 
time, the muscles of her (his?) athlete's body 
rippling. I followed more slowly, careful not to bang 
my breasts on the way up. On the way up I tried to 
examine my internal state. It seems I lucked out. 

Although Donna had left me in a state of full arousal, 
it was one in which I had some of discretion over what 
I'd do. I was going to get screwed all right -- 
probably several times -- but at least I wasn't going 
to humiliate myself by doing something kinky. I winced, 
thinking of some of the things I might have been forced 
into if Donna had stumbled onto the right trigger 
phrases.

The floor of the loft was entirely covered by an 
immense, deep featherbed. The only other thing up there 
was pillows of various sizes and shapes. Donna reclined 
nonchalantly in the center, fully erect, and examining 
her penis with an amused air. "I think it's time for me 
to find out what this thing can do."

I knelt on Donna's lap, resting my ass on her sinewy 
thighs so that her cock came up between my legs. "Take 
me now, lover," I whispered. I rubbed my hairless cunt 
against her member, lightly coating it with cunt 
juices.

Donna responded without hesitation. In a blink of an 
eye I was on my back, legs dangling in the air over my 
partner's shoulders, and pussy filled with pumping 
cock. Did I like it? Of course I did. The sim 
programming didn't give me any choice. I loved being 
fucked in the pussy. I savored every moment of it. I 
cried out again and again, in my high little voice, "Oh 
god! Fuck me! Fill my pussy! You're screwing me in the 
cunt! Oh deeper! Oh harder!" 

Soon I wasn't saying anything, just gasping with 
pleasure as multiple orgasms swept over me.

We did it twice again after that, once with me on top, 
my heavy breasts bouncing up and down in rhythm with 
our pumping, and again with me on the bottom. At last, 
spent, we cuddled together in the depths of the feather 
bed. Donna stroked my cheek and kissed me again. "I 
guess it's time to end the sim, puppy dog. I'm ready to 
be a woman again. You can wear the pants from now on."

I froze. Did she say "puppy dog"? What a fool I was! 
This was the trigger to a subroutine that I had 
programmed idly one night, but never intended to put to 
use. Partly as a little joke and partly as a safety 
measure I had deliberately chosen a "pet" name that 
Donna used for me, not vice versa.

I was going to have a lot of explaining to do if Donna 
saw this subroutine go into effect. My only hope was to 
hold out against the sim-manufactured urges until she 
stopped the run. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, 
and clenched my fists. But it was no good. The urges 
were too strong. In a moment I had risen to all fours 
and was frisking and bounding around the loft like an 
excited puppy, yipping excitedly.

"Chris, what are you doing?" Donna cried with alarm. 
"Chris?"

I bounded over to her, still on all fours, and panted 
with my mouth open. Suddenly I gave her face a big wet 
lick with my tongue. I spun around, pushing my butt 
upwards and wagging it back and forth like a happy dog. 
I barked encouragingly.

Donna had begun to catch on, and seemed none too happy 
about it. "You were going to do *that* to me?!" she 
boomed in her deep voice. "I get it. 'Puppy dog'! Make 
me act like a bitch in heat so that you could take me 
doggie style? You know I don't like doing it that way! 
You fucking asshole!"

Things were going from bad to worse. "Fucking asshole" 
was another trigger phrase; Donna wasn't going to like 
this a bit. But at least I wouldn't have to bark any 
longer.

I found my voice. In words thick with passion I said, 
"Yes. Please fuck me in the asshole. Stick your cock 
deep into my butt. Fill me to the hilt. Oh please do 
it! Do it now!"

The expression in Donna's voice changed from outrage to 
amusement. I imagined her man's mouth leering at me. 
"You really want me to fuck you in the butt, Chrissie?"

"Oh yes, please! Do it in my ass! Come inside my ass!"

I felt a strong hand on my right ass cheek. "If you 
want it so badly, it would be a sin to disappoint you."

"Oh now! Now!"

A finger at my cunt, wiping up my abundant pussy 
juices. The same finger, coating my little pink asshole 
with those same juices. The tip of a huge, hot cock, 
pressing down on the entrance way to my bowels. 
Pressure slowly increasing... increasing.

"It'll never fit," I cried, "You're too big!"

Suddenly my sphincter yielded, the pressure 
disappearing as the cock slid slowly, slowly into my 
sigmoid. Now the pressure was replaced by a tightness, 
a feeling of fullness, and incredible pleasure.

Cock buried in my rectum, Donna leaned over me and 
grabbed a tit in each hand. I moaned in delight. 
"You're being corn-holed, you know," she (he?) 
remarked. "How do you like it?"

"I love it!" I gasped. "Fuck me harder!"

Donna obliged, pumping her (his?) meat into me in long, 
leisurely strokes. She would pull herself nearly out, 
making me cry out to have her in me again, and then, 
when I thought I'd go insane with longing, slide it 
back in to its full extent. Her large hands squeezed 
and caressed my breasts. In minutes I had an anal 
orgasm, shaking and crying out as my sphincter went 
into spasm. It must have felt good at the other end 
too, because Donna cried out at the same time and shot 
her wad into the depths of my bowels.

I collapsed, Donna's cock still buried deep inside me. 
We lay that way for a long time, listening to each 
other's breath, saying nothing. My partner finally 
spoke. "I think that's enough for now. Computer, end 
sim."

The beach house, the loft, the featherbed dissolved, 
and I found myself back in my living room, leads still 
attached to the cooling sim generator. I looked over at 
Donna, who seemed cool and collected as ever in her 
modest blouse and skirt. In contrast, I felt like I'd 
been kicked by a camel and then left out to die in the 
Sahara.

"Donna, I'm so sorry." It was good to have my normal 
voice again.

She smiled at me with unexpected sweetness. "You do 
have a little explaining to do. But I'll take some of 
the blame. I mean, I put us in that situation you 
know."

I looked at her with widening eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you figured it out, you dodo? I switched the 
cables in the back of the generator; while you were 
fiddling with the console! Remember?"

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I threw a couch 
pillow at her.

And missed.

END

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It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
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Kristen's collection - Directory 63