He could not find her bedrock no matter how hard he drilled. He thrust and he thrust and he thrust but he never landed in that special place. She smiled but he knew he had failed her. There was no point to him if he could not make her happy. He might as well be destroyed.
“It’s okay honey, I have my ways.”
Tiffany was always so kind, so beautiful. Her auburn hair obscured her almost symmetrical round face. She was rubensque and more than he ever deserved.
“I’m supposed to be your way.”
“We’ll just have to recalibrate.”
Michael was built to please humans sexually, but he was after all mostly a do it yourself model. He was mostly DIY due to the fact that strictly homemade models tended to have strange issues with their lover/mother’s. The customizable options were still rewarding enough to warrant the elbow grease and hassle.
“It feels like I’ll never be the tool I’m supposed to be.”
“We’ll get there.”
For a moment they shared a spark between their eyes, sight to sight transfer and love by another name. His tawny yellow eyes told her everything he wanted even though she knew that to be her. She made him want her blubbery body, white cottage cheese thighs, flat and wide breasts. She made him enamored by her needy nature. She made him love her bad breath. It was all there being repeated back to her in his diagnostics.
“I just want to make you happy.”
And there was the strange thing, she was trying to help him help her. He would rise in her with such efficiency, such frequency and such accuracy but she just couldn’t be there in that moment. She was out of her body where she didn’t have to stare at those eyes that searched her for approval. They were stuck in each other’s insecurities.
The difference was Michael’s could be fixed.
Sep 17, 2011 @ 11:35:02
Brilliant. And hard to read.
Not hard to understand, but a squirmy truthy feeling…
Sep 17, 2011 @ 15:58:50
nice one….