"Technophile" From The Bachelor Machine
Continuing my excerpt-fest, here's a juicy little queer cyberpunk number from my collection,
The Bachelor Machine
(out now in a new edition by Circlet Books).
Technophile
I almostlost my virginity at fifteen, but his batteries ran low. He'dshowed me the unit, zipped open tight jeans and flashed out the Long Thrust.State, top-of-the-line, implant augmentation. He'd had himself castrated forthe best science had to offer. I wanted it. The instant I saw it, the polished,burnishing, gleam of it. I wanted it bad. Now. Hard. Fast.My squatwas old-wired 220 so its juice-pack couldn't take the flow. In playback,wet-memory, I see him – planes of his face dead in the cheap florescents, as hehunts in his bag for the adapter he didn't bring. In theend, we lit expensive candles and he put his mouth on my cock. Hismouth was shocking wet, not like my dry hand or the spit sometimes to make iteasier. It was too slippery, and too hot. I was blazing with shame and selfpity, eyes fake closed and instead watching his head dip down. First a quickspray of over-the-counter anti-viral fog, then it was a wet test embrace on my cock, gentle kisses, then awet socket over my cock. Brent,friend of my dealer. I'd been taking longer to slip the black market yen, andtaking the tiny plastic bags, just to watch him stand and pose: first timespotting was like that first time there in my squat. Thick leathers hiding oldcop impact vest, skin-jeans slit to show off log legs, too-tight tee ("YANKEEIMPERIALIST VICTIM") paint on a stone-mason chest, face cragged andstreet-scarred but with museum planes. Eyes then on the street as they were inmy recall of the squat – hidden and refrigerator cool behind convex mirrors ofmandatory shades. He may have been handsome, might have made girls wet, boyshard – but I'd heard, and then he'd heard that I'd heard and there in thatalley he zipped and flipped it out. Fuck, I wanted it in me right there.I wassmiling when he lifted from my hardening cock. Smiling back at his smilingface, at my smiling face reflected in his shades. We smiled at each otherreflected over and over as he gently stroked my cock, kissing it, and sucking amouthful of the ridged head (Momma thought cutting sanitary).Thesquat was cold and my futon too fucking hard on my back. My jeans were bunchedaround my legs and my back was crooked funny against my pack. So I put my handon his head and pushed myself down. So mature for that first time, socontrolled from the burning pity and disappointment of that unit, dead andpowerless between his legs.Slopeddown onto the futon, I let him suck my cock. The kisses got harder, his tonguebegan to play with the tip, that little hot hold in the end that sometimes feltlike prickles and sometimes like warm steel. I was hard from his mouth there,from his hand gently holding and stroking, from his breath stirring the coolskin from my shaved balls and belly. I was deep inside, eyes really closed,letting his hands and mouth work me up and higher and harder. My ballsbegin to swell and heat. Something in me wanted, and because, I guess, I letmyself put a hand on the crotch of his hot jeans. He closed them on my fingers,trapping them in a denim vice as he made negative moans around my hard cock. I lethim suck more, letting myself burn deep and pissed and disappointed. I felt histeeth slide every inch across the skin of my shaft. I couldn't decide if it wason purpose or accident. And when I thought about it, anticipating it, or tryingto block the hardness of his teeth it just added something to it. I was harderand harder.I wantedsomething again, I could have what I really wanted but this would do – and fromthe heat of him on my cock I pushed a sweet little virginal "please"out. I opened my eyes and saw that I had slid myself down to his jeans. I couldsmell it, that sweet sting-smell of brand-new plastic and his sweat through thethin denim of his jeans. No negative this time. No refusal for the poor virginboy. The sucking never stopped the teeth didn't glide (so I guessed he must bepretty fucking good at this), but the hands came out and slipped the jeansdown.Made inthe best labs in Shadow Tokyo. Fucking pure lines – a curving, shining downwardturning tusk of high-impact plastic nested into a shield of gleaming blackchrome. I traced the inert row of decorative indicators that ran along the sideof the shaft (as he sucked the head of my cock, just the head, stoking me wetand thumbing like a metronome beating against my balls and stomach), feelingtheir dimples, and wanting them to light. I kissed the dead head of his unit,tasting a lingering of lube from the last time he'd fucked with it (boy, girl,fist, unknown). He wassucking so hard now – the coolness was gone, and all I could feel was his hotmouth sucking and licking and sometimes (there, there) the hard glide of thosespecial teeth in that trained mouth. His fist was still pumping, and my stomachached the good hurt of a rough jerk-off. The headof his unit was a different plastic, something so close to skin I could seewith half an eye the unit just a steep pole, an extension of his cock. The headwas anatomically correct and lifelike. I stokedit, wishing so hard that it was juiced up and likewise. I wanted it so bad.Wanted it in my own mouth, wanted to really taste that old lube down deep in mythroat. Didn't know how to do it, natch – but knew I could I wanted it so bad.Laying there on the hard futon, smelling of years of mildew, I wanted my virginass to take this sweet machine. Iwanted it. I could feel it – so hard and buzzing softly with all thosemarvelous features. Closing my eyes, I could feel it, a great background to hissucking sucking of me. Yeah, I felt it, laying there. Could imagine so perfect,crisp and clear as I raised my ass up to meet it. I closed my eyes and dreamedit – that first great touch of it against my asshole as I opened for it,swallowed it and felt the spasmic vibrators, the asymmetric rhythms, the neuralstims all start to work on the inside of my asshole. I imagined him taking medeep and hard, only letting the Long Thrust (the Extension Delux Model with theDynamic Action Features, coupled with the hottest Joy Buzzer software) do someof the fucking. My ass, I thought, would go all jelly, my cock would be, andwas, steel. I could feel him slide it into me and out and in and somethingpowerful would start in my ass and it would travel up my spine and out throughmy cock via my brain – just like they said in their ads on the net – Fuck,fuck, fuck ... I wanted it in my ass and I wanted it in my mouth – but theshaft stayed down, the head stayed slightly cold – like a hot-dog from a brokenand cold vending machine. Too latefor the reality, I was lost in my fondling, his sucking, the beautiful cocknessof the Long Thrust. I felt myself start, felt the rocket start to climb fromballs to tip. I could feel the come start to shake and close my eyes. But Ikept them open and stared: a Long Thrust Delux there, in the crotch of hishairy thighs. This was one – right in front of me. This was one. Come jettedfrom the head of my cock, into his sprayed, disinfected mouth. The come was ashard and hurt as much as my fucking cock. My legs danced. He put his hand on mycold chest as he pumped, sucked and jumped his fist along my shaft. I came andcoated his mouth with my stickiness.I came,all wet and sticky, and all I could think of was Long Thrust between his legs –dead, cold and inert.
TechnophileI almostlost my virginity at fifteen, but his batteries ran low. He'dshowed me the unit, zipped open tight jeans and flashed out the Long Thrust.State, top-of-the-line, implant augmentation. He'd had himself castrated forthe best science had to offer. I wanted it. The instant I saw it, the polished,burnishing, gleam of it. I wanted it bad. Now. Hard. Fast.My squatwas old-wired 220 so its juice-pack couldn't take the flow. In playback,wet-memory, I see him – planes of his face dead in the cheap florescents, as hehunts in his bag for the adapter he didn't bring. In theend, we lit expensive candles and he put his mouth on my cock. Hismouth was shocking wet, not like my dry hand or the spit sometimes to make iteasier. It was too slippery, and too hot. I was blazing with shame and selfpity, eyes fake closed and instead watching his head dip down. First a quickspray of over-the-counter anti-viral fog, then it was a wet test embrace on my cock, gentle kisses, then awet socket over my cock. Brent,friend of my dealer. I'd been taking longer to slip the black market yen, andtaking the tiny plastic bags, just to watch him stand and pose: first timespotting was like that first time there in my squat. Thick leathers hiding oldcop impact vest, skin-jeans slit to show off log legs, too-tight tee ("YANKEEIMPERIALIST VICTIM") paint on a stone-mason chest, face cragged andstreet-scarred but with museum planes. Eyes then on the street as they were inmy recall of the squat – hidden and refrigerator cool behind convex mirrors ofmandatory shades. He may have been handsome, might have made girls wet, boyshard – but I'd heard, and then he'd heard that I'd heard and there in thatalley he zipped and flipped it out. Fuck, I wanted it in me right there.I wassmiling when he lifted from my hardening cock. Smiling back at his smilingface, at my smiling face reflected in his shades. We smiled at each otherreflected over and over as he gently stroked my cock, kissing it, and sucking amouthful of the ridged head (Momma thought cutting sanitary).Thesquat was cold and my futon too fucking hard on my back. My jeans were bunchedaround my legs and my back was crooked funny against my pack. So I put my handon his head and pushed myself down. So mature for that first time, socontrolled from the burning pity and disappointment of that unit, dead andpowerless between his legs.Slopeddown onto the futon, I let him suck my cock. The kisses got harder, his tonguebegan to play with the tip, that little hot hold in the end that sometimes feltlike prickles and sometimes like warm steel. I was hard from his mouth there,from his hand gently holding and stroking, from his breath stirring the coolskin from my shaved balls and belly. I was deep inside, eyes really closed,letting his hands and mouth work me up and higher and harder. My ballsbegin to swell and heat. Something in me wanted, and because, I guess, I letmyself put a hand on the crotch of his hot jeans. He closed them on my fingers,trapping them in a denim vice as he made negative moans around my hard cock. I lethim suck more, letting myself burn deep and pissed and disappointed. I felt histeeth slide every inch across the skin of my shaft. I couldn't decide if it wason purpose or accident. And when I thought about it, anticipating it, or tryingto block the hardness of his teeth it just added something to it. I was harderand harder.I wantedsomething again, I could have what I really wanted but this would do – and fromthe heat of him on my cock I pushed a sweet little virginal "please"out. I opened my eyes and saw that I had slid myself down to his jeans. I couldsmell it, that sweet sting-smell of brand-new plastic and his sweat through thethin denim of his jeans. No negative this time. No refusal for the poor virginboy. The sucking never stopped the teeth didn't glide (so I guessed he must bepretty fucking good at this), but the hands came out and slipped the jeansdown.Made inthe best labs in Shadow Tokyo. Fucking pure lines – a curving, shining downwardturning tusk of high-impact plastic nested into a shield of gleaming blackchrome. I traced the inert row of decorative indicators that ran along the sideof the shaft (as he sucked the head of my cock, just the head, stoking me wetand thumbing like a metronome beating against my balls and stomach), feelingtheir dimples, and wanting them to light. I kissed the dead head of his unit,tasting a lingering of lube from the last time he'd fucked with it (boy, girl,fist, unknown). He wassucking so hard now – the coolness was gone, and all I could feel was his hotmouth sucking and licking and sometimes (there, there) the hard glide of thosespecial teeth in that trained mouth. His fist was still pumping, and my stomachached the good hurt of a rough jerk-off. The headof his unit was a different plastic, something so close to skin I could seewith half an eye the unit just a steep pole, an extension of his cock. The headwas anatomically correct and lifelike. I stokedit, wishing so hard that it was juiced up and likewise. I wanted it so bad.Wanted it in my own mouth, wanted to really taste that old lube down deep in mythroat. Didn't know how to do it, natch – but knew I could I wanted it so bad.Laying there on the hard futon, smelling of years of mildew, I wanted my virginass to take this sweet machine. Iwanted it. I could feel it – so hard and buzzing softly with all thosemarvelous features. Closing my eyes, I could feel it, a great background to hissucking sucking of me. Yeah, I felt it, laying there. Could imagine so perfect,crisp and clear as I raised my ass up to meet it. I closed my eyes and dreamedit – that first great touch of it against my asshole as I opened for it,swallowed it and felt the spasmic vibrators, the asymmetric rhythms, the neuralstims all start to work on the inside of my asshole. I imagined him taking medeep and hard, only letting the Long Thrust (the Extension Delux Model with theDynamic Action Features, coupled with the hottest Joy Buzzer software) do someof the fucking. My ass, I thought, would go all jelly, my cock would be, andwas, steel. I could feel him slide it into me and out and in and somethingpowerful would start in my ass and it would travel up my spine and out throughmy cock via my brain – just like they said in their ads on the net – Fuck,fuck, fuck ... I wanted it in my ass and I wanted it in my mouth – but theshaft stayed down, the head stayed slightly cold – like a hot-dog from a brokenand cold vending machine. Too latefor the reality, I was lost in my fondling, his sucking, the beautiful cocknessof the Long Thrust. I felt myself start, felt the rocket start to climb fromballs to tip. I could feel the come start to shake and close my eyes. But Ikept them open and stared: a Long Thrust Delux there, in the crotch of hishairy thighs. This was one – right in front of me. This was one. Come jettedfrom the head of my cock, into his sprayed, disinfected mouth. The come was ashard and hurt as much as my fucking cock. My legs danced. He put his hand on mycold chest as he pumped, sucked and jumped his fist along my shaft. I came andcoated his mouth with my stickiness.I came,all wet and sticky, and all I could think of was Long Thrust between his legs –dead, cold and inert.
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