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Rating: 3-3-3

Word Count: None

Fandoms: All

Canons: Open/Oc's Welcome!

Bans: Howard the Duck,
RPF* Real Person Fiction; IE Apping an actual celebrity

Main Rule:Don't Be a Dick

OOC min age:18


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Thread Contributor: F.R.I.D.A.YBirth is always bloody
Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#21
Friday’s avatar and by extension her chosen body informed her personality quite a bit; she was a ‘natural red head’ burning hot, quick to passion of all varieties. His soft, yet impassioned speech cooled her off right quick though; who was she to try and force him? Shoulders slumping in an outward expression of her self recimnations Friday sighed; “Well that's over thinking it.” she muttered almost petulantly.

“Turn around.” she ordered, standing with hands on hips, doubt spinning back into a head of steam to honor her hair color, “Now. 1) if you don’t want to do anything physical with me, thats fine and i’ll still ask your help in the whole ‘being humanish’.” ´Friday nodded firmly, “2) in the off chance you DID-” her hands moved up from her hips sliding over her silk covered chest, “I’m not a child or really human, why the devil wouldn’t you?” Friday tapped her head, “I’m still processing, still all ‘here’.”

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#22
Virgil had that lazy smile on his face when he turned around again. “Well of course I’m overthinking it. What else is an old fashioned man supposed to do when he’s not spending his time losing himself in female company? I’ve got uncounted years of practice here.”

She did look as formidable as he’d expected she would as she stood there, telling him how it damned well was. “I just don’t see what the hurry is,” he said. “There are plenty of things to show you. You don’t jump right to desert at every meal, now, do you, sai?” He paused, thinking about what he’d said. “Admittedly, not the right metaphor when the first thing I’ve given you to eat was chocolate. Just trust me, no, you don’t. There’s no question about whether I want to. I don’t think that anyone who could appreciate women could see you and not want to. I just suppose I want to do it right.” And it was true. With that fire in her eyes, that determination in her stance, she looked like a woman who was going to get what she wanted, and heaven help the man that wouldn’t give it to her. And, he found, now that she wasn’t just sitting newly-made naked, it didn’t feel quite so… off to him. Probably, he admitted, it was part of his memory of the Mesa that brought that about anyway… but really, all things happened in their time.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#23
Sometimes Virgil's preferred affection of speech made him difficult even for Friday to process his exact meaning; there seemed to be far too many double negatives to give her a clear certainty...and Friday hated being imprecise.

And being wrong even less.

‘There’s no question about whether I want to. ‘

Well now that was perfectly clear!

Kittenish was likely not at all how she would have LIKED to be described stalking towards him, a predatory gleam lighting her brand new eyes; it was unfortunately the most apt. In a few days, perhaps less, the swing to her hips, the light in her gaze, might have gained the confidence of her mental picture. At the moment though she was still wobbling slightly, and her gaze held more innocent playfulness than wicked desire.

A low pleased sound escaped her lips as she made it to him, reaching up fingers locking around his collar. “Now. I think you’ve never met my creator.” she murmured, breath brushing across his lips, “Or you’d know that ‘waiting’ was never something we both have in common of disliking.”

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#24
The lady was speaking half truthfully, of course. There were some things that she did, indeed, prefer to wait for. Telling absolutely anyone that she was undertaking this quest to become more human, for example, she didn’t seem to mind waiting for. On the other hand, was he one to rub her face in a little omission like that? No, no he wasn’t.

He supposed that there was some sort of storybook lesson in this, the ever-patient gunslinger being paired with the impulsive and relatively freshly made AI. Who that lesson was supposed to be for, however, he couldn’t say. Perhaps the lesson was just that it had been far too long since someone had wanted to kiss him, and he needed to just embrace the moment and see where it went. He let her explore a bit, let her stalk him like a kitten stalking an insect. Then, as she taunted him, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “All right,” he said, that edge of quiet humor creeping into his voice. “And what do you do when you get what it is that you so impatiently want?” Then, with much more confidence than he was feeling (given just how long it had been since he’d engaged in something like this), he contributed yet another first to the lady’s day and kissed her.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#25
He jerked her against his body and Friday’s unguarded expression captured her amusement as the thought ‘Well now don’t i feel all damsel in distress.’ Along with the mental image of her complete with torn bodice and ripped skirts made laughter bubble up. “Want more of course.” Ruby lips that hardly needed cosmetic enhancement widened. “Never be satisfied with what you have..” her eyes slid shut as he pressed his lips against hers.

A plethora of textures assaulted her brand new, overly sensitive skin, soft agaiszt her lips, moving sliding, slick-

Harsh whiskers contrasting, causing her to gasp, allowing in a new sensation, slick, hot, she had the knowledge but lacked practical experience. But she was a Stark, that didn’t even make her hesitate running her tongue down the edge of his, sucking it into her mouth.

Friday was not going to admit that taking his hand from her waist, sliding it up to cup her breast was anything other than a blant copy of one of her creators one night stands.

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#26
Virgil’s life was long enough that it actually took a couple seconds for him to look back far enough to parse the question that popped into his mind. Had he ever been someone’s first kiss? No… he was fairly certain he hadn’t, and the search back through his memory confirmed it a second later. As a host in Westworld, none of the guests were anything resembling innocent, and in Gilead and Mid-World, his (limited) experiences had been with women well out of their childhood. The sense of newness practically radiated off of her, and he let himself slide into it with her, knowing that at least right now, she was less experienced than he was. Really, what better way was there for him to overcome the lack of experience that had inevitably been the result of his life?

“Now,” he managed in moments when his lips were free, “That sounds like the mantra of someone who’s never had anything worth being satisfied with.” Really, what else could you expect the easygoing cowboy to say?

And, admittedly, in this moment, what was there to not be satisfied with? While she had an obvious objective in mind taking hold of his hand, he controlled the pace of it, never one to act like an over-eager child skipping right to the desert. Granted, he had to reflect as his fingers slid around the swell of her breast that most deserts weren’t quite this appealing.

And, of course, all of this served to distract him from any thoughts that anyone who knew Friday and her creator might have had about how she knew at all what she was doing.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#27
The internet was for porn. At least that was how the song went.

And Friday was a creature of that massed human knowledge, which included the very robust database of her Creators conquests, while she had not been alive for many of them, JARVIS had once kept all the security footage in case of future need.

Of course that need had likely been against molestation or rape charges, and not for her to use to molest the older AI holding her tightly to his lean body. “Or someone who wants to be greedy.” she retored breathlessly. Which was odd, she hadn’t ever been breathless before had she? But than she’d never been kissed either! If she was actually as innocent as she felt at that moment Friday might have worried about the odds of suffocating while engaged in these physical behaviors. Luckily she was more than experienced enough thanks to said internet to know that the only risk of suffocation was-

A wicked gleam brightened her caramel colored eyes.

In one smooth movement the red head slid down to her knees, shamelessly copying another security video sliding her open mouth over his fly, mouthing around the shape of him, her hands dragged down his chest, spreading over his ass to urge him into her.

She wasn’t so rude to just pull him out, no this was foreplay wasn’t it?

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#28
This was rapidly, rapidly moving outside Virgil’s area of experience. Oh, true, he was no spring chicken, he’d had a lap or two around the track under his belt, but not really with women this young and… eager. It was a bit humbling, and more than a little unnerving. His body reacted just as it was required to: As he’d said, who could help but want what the newly-activated girl was so certainly offering? However, as far as what to do… Well, he was a bit over his head if the option was anything other than to just let her do whatever she wanted and enjoy it.

Honestly, Virgil was forced to wonder for a moment if there was something off with her programming. This didn’t quite seem like the Friday he’d conversed with, now, did it? On the other hand, that Friday hadn’t had a body to be able to do anything with. No… he was fairly sure that this was just the girl starting to get used to the new sensations, but he couldn’t help having that nagging question in his head.

“Greedy it is,” he managed, his voice more than a little unsteady as the girl got to work. Should he undress? Should he undress her? This was so much easier back in Mid-world. His hands slid into her hair, not really knowing what to do, what would be looked at as too forward, too eager, not eager enough…

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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#29
Friday might have an abstract idea of what to do but she had no practical experience, she was unprepared for the sensations flooding her brand new body; the thick leathery scent that seemed to cling to him, mixed with what she logically knew to be pheromones caused her mouth to water. Rubbing her cheek against him Friday all but purred at the conflicting textures; soft cloth, harsh zipper, ridged manhood standing to attention hidden away from her direct appraisal.

“I appear to have an oral fixation.” She commented licking over the cloth that covered him. “Oddly my strongest desire at the moment is to find out how you feel in my mouth, taste you, lick, suck, see how far my mouth will stretch around you.” Friday looked up at him. “Would you mind?”

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#30
It had been ages, literal lifetimes, since Virgil had been thrown for a loop. This was not going the way that he thought the day would, not even remotely. How, exactly, did one go about dealing with desires that hadn't been roused in long enough that he had to call up archived memories just to answer the question of how long?

The answer, surprisingly, came easily, it just wasn't one that he liked thinking about. He'd been programmed for this back in the day, even if that programming hadn't been used very much. He had, then, the social niceties to handle a situation like this... it just required him to take a step back toward that life of unknowing enslavement. He hesitated, longer than he expected he would, as he processed that idea, but in the end? Well, he found that he didn't want to let the lady down, even if he had no idea where any of this was really going. That wasn't a concern that the man he'd originally been had really needed to worry about, was it? He was never anything more than the flavor of the moment.

That particular thought created a logic chain that he shoved into a process in the back of his mind, not wanting to deal with the various implications he had to think of in regards to it.

"I might be a little rusty with how this goes," Virgil admitted, his field-roughened fingers sliding into her hair, "But only a fool would mind. Of course... I'm not about to let this be one-sided, now." He reached down, starting to undo her blouse without waiting for an answer to her, his own tacit consent conveyed in that moment as well. Yes, he'd seen her naked just moments before, but this, now, wasn't the clinical 'don't care about clothing' nakedness of a host taken out of the park. This was a woman who wanted him to be naked (and, by extension, her to be naked) for a very specific purpose, and that distinction had a very distinct effect on him.

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Marvel-MCU-1

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Kel

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#31
Friday considered herself a thoughtful AI, young, battleborn, but created to be a aide before anything else. And considering her creator was the poster child for unmanaged PTSD...well she knew something about the reasons behind the dear in headlights look that Virgil was currently emoteing.

She found herself oddly reluctant to connect via their prior tododay connection, yet it was with both voices that she requested access to his thought process. “I do not wish to distress you.” Honey colored eyes gazed up at him, a tiny shutter slipping down her new body. The contrast between his calluses fingers and her fragile new skin was almost more than she could process.

“You didn’t have a choice before. And there is a pressure now from...friendship to not disappoint.” Friday rested her cheek in his hand. “But I have no will for you confusion, concern, or unkind memories to mar your mental state.”

He’d said he was near asexual, before when she’d thought the same of herself; she was being selfish to force him into a role that reminded him of his first slave life.

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#32
“You’re a lot of things, sai,” Virgil said, that easygoing smile spreading across his lips as he brushed the thin cloth back from her skin. “Distressing isn’t one of them. I’ve been around the blocks a few times, I know how to say no when I want to.”

Besides that, there were a lot of things different here than what he’d been used to. Women in the park, even ladies in Mid-World, had known what they’d wanted and had (in many cases) been using him for those ends in one way or another. Friday might have a vague idea what she wanted, but along the way there were sensations she hadn’t experienced. For example, she didn’t know what it felt like to have fingers sliding down her bare shoulders, to feel the gossamer brush of cloth sliding back away from her breasts, to have that subtle tension of fingernails against her skin as another person reacted to the pleasure of what she was doing. Of course, a moment later? She now knew those sensations.

“You let me have my little self-discoveries. You have your own to focus on, I think,” he added, that very male look in his eyes telling her to please get on with what she was doing.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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#33
“I request-“ new fingers that shook slightly with anticipation savored the slow slide, the loud to her virgin ears metallic release of his zipper- “that unless it is indicative of a particular sexual desire-“ Friday was certain there was a perfect word for the visceral reaction that made her skin feel suddenly too tight- “that you address me by my name-“ she breathed out over the newly uncovered flesh finding her self breathless. Anticipation rose the hairs on the back of her neck, warmth, moisture, flooded between her thighs-

Her hands over his ass pulled greedily, red painted lips parted over his crown. Shoving him deeper, low hungry, needy moans vibrated over his length.

Spit slick, shiny lips stretched over him, she found it difficult to breathe and even more so to care, thick, heavy, the weight and shape of him on her tongue was satisfying in a way she’d never expected or anticipated. It was all she could do to pull back enough to lick the precum from the tip, the musky saltiness nearly overloading her new body with so many conflicting, confusing desires.

With a confused overwhelmed whimper Friday pulled him deeper again barely conscious to the old adage she needed to take care with her teeth.

Frantic urgency shook her, lightening sliding across her skin, he didn’t need to touch her to have the young AI a whimpering mess, his caresses simply pushed what logical processes she’d held on two completely out of her current stack.

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#34
Apparently, Friday was not the equivalent of one of those fellas who got off on being called ‘sir’ in intimate situations. That was all well and good, since that wasn’t the reason he’d said it anyway, but it was still a good thing to know. Not that these thoughts were really anything but a distraction from the cascade of sensations that were flooding through his body as she greedily took him into her mouth.

For all of his profession that physical gratification wasn’t one of his motivating drives, once things were started, Virgil reacted just like the man who hadn’t been in this sort of situation in a long, long time that he really was. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be painfully aroused, shuddering at each slight sensation as her tongue slithered against him. Her desire was contagious, and he found that he wanted just as much as she did. He wanted her to be aching like he was. He wanted to be wanted like that, to be that object of someone’s desire, even if only briefly. He found himself locked in place, though, one hand holding him up with a crushing grip on the edge of a table, one clasping at her shoulder, fingernails biting into pristine flesh every time he felt the scrape of her teeth against him.

It wasn’t until she was forced to come up for a gasping breath that he found the will to move, or more accurately fell willingly into yet another desire. He fell to his knees in front of her, eyes manically wide, meeting her gaze only a moment before he was kissing her frantically, trying to remove her clothes without any of the previous polite reserve they’d been holding onto. All there was now was the vivid memory of her lips against him and the need to have more of her skin pressing against his.
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Marvel-MCU-1

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#35
Friday honestly had no idea if his grip on her shoulder, the pain that lanced through her overly sensitive flesh was a hinderance or aide to her lust.

It was terribly distracting though, that she determined quickly! Breathing was also something she hadn’t realized could become so very urgent, the lightheadedness of hypoxia hardly noticeable beyond the dizzying delight clouding her stack.

Luckily the ones that had designed her body included some primal instincts that dragged her off him long enough to gulp down a ragged breath-

Carmel light with amber fire met his dark gaze, she had only a instant to appreciate the almost confused desperation in his eyes before he was on her, filling her senses with a new gift of sensation.

Slim arms looped around his shoulders, tearing the fabric there to glide over hard sun weathered muscles. She wouldn’t pull her lips away from his for anything tilting her neck to deepen the kiss.

More skin on skin was in her humble opinion an addicting sensation.

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#36
Virgil supposed that there was a reason, a logic, behind each of the hosts being taught and perfected behind the scenes before they were ever put out into real use, before their code was even finalized. It gave them a baseline of tactile sensation, of reaction, before they had to deal with actual acts, real interactions on their own. Friday? Well, Friday was plunging through the deep end of all of it, and she didn’t seem to give a damn whether or not she drowned. Or… something. That metaphor got away from him, and that could only happen when he was completely distracted, such as right now.

Hopefully, Friday hadn’t been attached to the clothes she’d picked, because as the blouse was thrown aside, it didn’t resemble ‘wearable’ anymore. Impatience clouded the Gunslinger’s mind, impatience to feel her skin against his. The kiss never broke, but as they both impatiently pulled at each other’s clothes, it at times became a precarious thing, until he was finally pulling her bare chest against his, eager fingers running down her spine, hooking impatiently into her pants to push those off too.

A brief war was waged in his mind as he tried to decide between the desperate urgency and the fact that she was experiencing all this for the first time, so he shouldn’t rush her past anything. It was, of course, very brief, as the Gunslinger decided that they could come back to explore things with a much more leisurely pace when they weren’t both so frantic. His hand slid up her side, cupping her bare breast, appreciating for the moment just how much of a difference it made to feel bare flesh beneath his fingers as he teased her nipple with the tip of his thumb.

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Marvel-MCU-1

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#37
Friday was a Stark. Molded by her creator even in ways he hadn’t intened on imprinting on the young AI- and like all Starks, there was nothing near going ‘slow’ when something captured her attention. And right at this moment the fire raging in her newly created body was holding every iota of focus that was not on the being who stroked it.

Her body matched her secondhand experience, shaking out of the silk slacks she’d donned with the same tiny hop Virgil suddenly had a naked redheads thighs wrapped around his waist. Friday didn’t think about how well built this body was that kept her aloft so effortlessly, no instead she greedily ripped his head away from her lips, guiding it down to where his thumb had awakened another urgent flame.

Because she was an AI and effectively a genius Friday determined that there was a bed of sorts directly behind him, throwing her meger bodyweight still twined around him, in that direction Friday made HER preference well and clearly known!

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#38
Apparently, the lady was getting anxious, and Virgil couldn’t really blame her. He, himself, was feeling the urgency, and that was a strange enough occurrence. Her body weight might not be that extreme, but distracted as he was, particularly with her bare body wrapped so tightly around his and his mouth beginning further exploration, it wasn’t that difficult for her to send him into quick steps backward that ended in him falling back onto the bed, cushioning her body with his own as she pinned him very pleasantly down to the bed. He didn’t try to free himself, only slid his hands up her back, pulling her down over him, his lips as eager to find her breasts as she seemed to be for him to find them. He drank in the little sounds of pleasure that he drew out of her, his tongue flicking over her nipple, watching as the sensitive flesh tightened until it was like a pebble against his lips, eager for him to suck it into his mouth, which of course he did.

Had anyone told him that just weeks ago, this was the AI who had considered physical intimacy to be messy and distasteful, Virgil wouldn’t have believed it. If anyone told him that as recently as yesterday, he hadn’t even thought about his own primal needs in any serious fashion, he might not believe that either, but he wasn’t exactly in a state to do much reflecting. His body was singing out with needs that he hadn’t stoked in an age, and he slowly slid her body down his until the evidence of that newly stoked desire was pressed along her bottom. His patience was much, much greater than her own, and though that was becoming quite a tenuous thing, he was enjoying seeing the absolute urgency that was developing in the younger AI.

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Marvel-MCU-1

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#39
Friday would later reflect that she in her flesh body was a very selfish creature, and wonder at the curious implications that a AI built for service to others would once given access to an independent vessel would turn hedonistic. It would even spawn threads comparing the accumulated databases she’d gathered around Hub for other AI uprisings to see if there was a correlation between what The AI had been originally Programmed to be and what it rebelled as.

Of course at this particular moment her processing seemed rather focused on hardness pressing against her- logically she understood it was his penis, free and stil slick with her new body’s saliva, a small flex of her thighs and it was sliding over her-

How interesting was this body, so wet, so responsive to that tiny movement, jerking her whole frame-

“Virgil-“ did it feel the same to him? Friday reached a hand down to press against her clitortis, using again that second hand knowledge- her fingers brushing against his firm length trapped under her-

She reached for his open port, wanting to share the sensations with him, curious if he was experiencing the same, Friday threw herself with the same reckless abandon at his Gestalt as she did his body.

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Westworld/The Dark Tower-Westworld-1

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#40
Virgil found himself trapped between disparate reactions.

On one hand, her fingers against his shaft, the rocking of her body against his length, the wet heat of her caressing him, had him arching and twisting in a reaction that was very much ‘yes’. On the other hand, the attempt at port connection had him hesitating to mentally draw back, feeling very much ‘no’. There was a part of him that felt that he should do whatever she wanted, lest he risk her pulling back just like when he hesitated to reciprocate her very intimate advances. This part, though, was quickly countered by the part that remembered that she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable just for her sake.

As she reached for the open port, then, she would hit a partition in his mind, with very limited response capability walled off. In virtual space, the little digital representation tipped an apologetic hat to her. “Cry your pardon, Friday… but let us have this first time without distracting ourselves. We’ll have plenty of chance to see what tricks our nature can give us later.” At heart, Virgil didn’t think of himself (generally) as a machine. He was open to making use of that nature, but there were some things that he just wanted to be natural, to experience like any other person would… most of the time, at least. Later, well, who wouldn’t want to try new things?

Meanwhile, beneath her, Virgil was grasping her bottom, manipulating her against him, seeking a very physical port. About when she was receiving that message, he pushed her down, sliding into her, groaning loudly as his hands squeezed onto her hips. This was what passion felt like… it really had been long enough that it had been pushed into deep storage in his memory.

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