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I arrive to find the lights already dimmed, a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses set out on the coffee table. She’s already sipped quite a bit, blushing lightly as pale-gold irises hungrily follow my movements. There’s a flicker of light from them and the door locking behind me with that tell-all chime. Well Commander, old boy, a night battle seems inevitable, doesn't it? I don't know if I could have expected anything less from such a loaded invitation, not to mention the very personal request for tonight's entertainment. Yes, I certainly came prepared tonight.
“Where did you find it?” Groza… no… Gracia smiles warmly as I round the couch and produce a aged flash drive from my pocket. Memory fragments, snippets that she wanted backed up before she deleted them for... privacy's sake. A good thing too, considering the amount of compromising material that she alone had. They might have poked around in her digimind and tried to wipe her, but old media formats were harder to get rid of if you didn’t have access to it- right Statesec?
“... Personal collection.” Is all I can say as Gracia crosses her arms and legs and tilts her head, shooting me a bemused smile that lights the dim room like a warm candle.
“Oh? Our beloved commander has a ‘personal collection’ hmm? I wonder how many other dolls are in there.” Teasing tone, venomous words, but the moment I sit down beside her she still leans against me with a contented sigh leaving her plump lips. Dexterous fingers playfully walk up my thigh before tracing my waistline even as she ships daintily from her wineglass.
A few choices, each with branching outcomes and no Dandelion to guide my decision- as far as I knew. Which would progress our timeline and which would lead to a game over? Luckily for me, I know my Gracia.
I wrap my arm around Gracia’s back, grabbing her by her slender waist and pulling her close. With just a nudge of my face she tilts her head so I can nuzzle and plant placating- if not apologetic kisses atop it. She’ll want me to make up for the months of affection’s absence, or at least make up the deficit between her and Groza.
And I must be making an excellent start, because just this is pulling gentle coos from her. Like the world’s most deadly cat, Gracia suddenly purrs as she curls up against me as I hit the play button.
I see myself- a much younger version of myself; dressed up in a nice suit after an awards ceremony with an earnest smile on my face and slight blush. I don’t know what I was expecting, but of course it would have been recorded from Groza’s- from Gracia’s perspective. Being perfectly honest, it’s strange seeing myself- my younger self through the eyes of one of my dolls, but I don’t take my eyes away.
“Darling, why don’t you delight in me more?” Gracia pouts as she kisses me. “I see the way I arouse you… and yet you have always been so hesitant. You know that I am yours, right? You can ask me for anything.”
We watch Gracia take my younger self’s hand and guide it into the open front of her crimson dress, right beneath the soft and tempting curve of her breasts. I remember that dress-
As the Groza on the screen leans in to whisper into my ear, the Gracia beside me fidgets slightly, her hands drifting to sensitive places.
“Is that not our oath was? That I am yours forever?” Gracia’s dulcet voice questions through the speakers.
And from the camera’s perspective, all we can see is the side of my own head, the kisses that Gracia places on me invisible but implied, and I have a feeling we both remember exactly what my hands were doing right then.
This time however, it’s Gracia’s turn to fondle and explore, rubbing her palm against the bulge rising and throbbing to be released.
“And if I am yours forever… are you not mine , darling?”
Both Gracia’s, past and present, whisper at the exact same time.
“Do you remember this, Gracia?” I huskily ask, barely able to contain the shuddering thrill- not that I could hide it from someone so in tune with my body as she.
“Mmmn… I can recollect it, but I think I require a physical model…” she murmurs in a tone so perfectly calibrated to tease my hormonal instinct. Both Gracias sigh with that yearning need, but it’s the one beside me that expertly frees the Boojum below from containment. She delicately wraps her fingers around my girth, measuring or perhaps calibrating, maybe even cross-referencing it when the “camera” pans downward. I can see two versions of the same scene; Gracia stroking my length with a soft and loving cadence- though the one on the screen has that extra little bit of titillation when viewed from between Gracia’s perky chest.
That is where the timelines diverge. The Gracia on the screen sinks to her knees, my girth throbbing before the camera, whereas the one beside me scoots to the other edge of the loveseat so that she can lean over-
I see my younger self looking down with such love and devotion in my eyes, knowing that Gracia was doing the same up to me… and I remember.
I remember what happens next when I watch myself reach down and trace her jawline.
Warm, humid breaths puff against my sensitive skin, this Gracia waiting for the same exact sign. Both of myselves grab my girth and guide it into waiting mouths…
A warmth engulfs me, a tongue slick with pseudo-saliva swirling playfully as the sensation descends all the way to the base. My hand reflexively tightens on the back of Gracia’s head, my hips bouncing instinctively to fit everything into Gracia, to feel her loving and plump lips kiss against my crotch just like they used to. God above, the memories come flooding in just then of all the night battles.
Her throat flexes and vibrates from inaudible hums, urging me to move… or rather, move her. The me on the screen is clearly fucking Gracia’s mouth- the wet squelching of my meat passing back and forth through tight lips tells one story. He moans softly, thrusts with more of his hips...
Me, though? I grab a rough handful of my Gracia’s dulled ashen hair and slowly pull her back up my length. She fights me though, clearly wanting nothing more than to consume my most vulgar flesh. She always had a bit of that selfless masochism to her, but now? Now she lets out an excited little squeal as I actually have to really try and yank her off. Her tongue is going wild, undulating against the pleasurable underbelly of my girth like she’s trying to pull it back into her mouth and throat.
So I oblige her, shoving her back down. My entire length glides into the back of her throat so easily, curving slightly to where her throat now tries to pull me deeper. I’m obstructing her throat, but not her vox system as a soft cadence of decadent moans encourages me to use her in such a crass capacity.
Both hands on her head now, driving that needy mouth up and down my cock, watching as the me on the screen does the same exact thing- though the me above lets out a familiar, strained groan.
I’m close too… but at the same time I don’t want to simply rehash the same script. We’ve both had ten more years of growth, ten more years of love and trust despite Statesec’s best efforts to wedge themselves in between us. As the sound of both Gracia’s sucking fills the room, I reach over like I’m going for the remote- and grab a nice tight handful of Gracia’s absolutely enticing hind. She’s surprised, but hums a melodic note while I delight in kneading the heavenly dough of the finest IOP frame yet.
“Freestlying already, Commander?” Gracia purrs through her vox-modulator even as I forcibly shove her face into my crotch like I was trying to shut her up. She manages a glance from the corner of her eye, the gold in her irises glowing as scans my expression.
“Would be a shame… to rehash the same plan…” I grin back at her.
So, in agreement, Gracia adjusts herself slightly on the couch, allowing me to grope more of her curves, her own hands on my legs as she starts to go off-script as well. She clearly wants to show how she’s grown too as she roughly bobs her head up and down my length, unabashedly slurping on her savory treat. The movements… are more aggressive than before, more hungry, the normal precision and grace of a doll like her completely overwhelmed by the power of raw unabashed passion. When I reach further around her hind, she dives down on me faster and harder until, when my finger strokes a particularly super-heated slit beneath her shorts, she’s guzzling and gurgling noisily on my girth.
All for show, of course, she’s proven time and time-again to me that dolls don’t breathe.
“Take your shorts off for me, Gracia.” I order, and she eagerly complies by sensually slipping them off her curvaceous hips and all the way down to the floor- all without taking her mouth off me. I can see thin black wings of some sensual lingerie sweeping out from beneath the hem of her uniform. Grabbing the flap’s edge makes Gracia pause, swirling between my tip between her lips, head tilting so she can watch my expression as I slowly lift the fabric like a youth peeking beneath the bed for their Christmas present.
And what a gift indeed. An ivory-white and curvaceous apple-bottom bisected down the middle by a thin, provocative line of black lace. The wings of the racy thong bite delightfully into the apex of her hips, teasing out just how tight-yet-pliable her frame’s exterior is. Naturally I run my hand over her curve to grab a greedy handful and Gracia’s head reacts with the same pace as my movements, lips descending as my fingers trace her downward.
“Do you like it, Commander? Does it suit me?”
“Naturally. Refined but sexy, just like before-”
A hasty answer- a breathless answer that pulls a lascivious smile on the corner of Gracia’s lips. Her tongue wiggles teasingly against that particularly sensitive center-line of mine like she is trying to push it aside… a hint perhaps? I trace that black line of hers… and her tongue does the same motion. All the way now, past the apex and into the humidity-
My fingertip presses against where the private frame modification should be… and finds it’s still there. No… more than that. Even through the thin fabric of her underwear, it feels somehow softer and hotter than before. Was this a Gen 3 upgrade as well?
Gracia reads my mind once more, humming as she fully seats my length into her throat, tongue now pressing up and lapping at my crotch as if begging me to mirror her movements. My finger traces her slit, feeling how those yearning lips puff and part in a far more natural response. It leaves a damp imprint against the lace, traces of petals spreading open to bloom-
I can’t hold it anymore, and yank the crotch of her thong aside-
“Commander~” Gracia moans softly as my fingertip sensually slips inside. Her body reacts, contracting and suckling on my digit in a far more… organic way than the pre-programed patterns of a Wombforce.
“G-Gracia… you’re so wet right now just from this?”
“It’s been years since we’ve had a proper… ‘night battle’, right?” There is a mischievous gleam to her eyes as she starts to bob her head with the same probing motions I make inside of her. On the screen above I’ve already moved onto the main course. That OTs-14 is looking back over her shoulder, watching past-me cling desperately to her while thrusting away like a dog in heat. Each fleshy clap and ripple of her faux-flesh on screen makes my own hips buck eagerly off the couch.
“Commander… aren’t you going to cum for me? I miss your taste…”
“And I miss yours, Gracia. You were so sweet before.”
“...” Even with a mouthful of cock, Gracia still smiles lovingly, still chuckles like she used to.
Gracia pulls free with a smack of the lips, but still eyeing me with the same look a wolf would give a sheep. She doesn’t ask, she doesn’t even demand that I lay back, she simply yanks me by the leg further onto the couch, straddles my head, and shoves her weeping clit into my face.
The woman Gracia used to be was refined and coyly seductive; a elegance to her not unlike the current Groza… but Gracia has grown far more daring and covetous since then.
But that’s not to say this assertiveness of her now was unwelcome- not by any stretch. Sweet Gracia devours me with a gusto unmatched by even Sabrina at an all-you-can-eat buffet, noisily throating herself when the only audience she cared for was right here. Her honey leaks from her as well, forcibly smeared across my lips and nose as she rolls her hips up and down without a care to if I am ready and in position to eat her out yet.
Still manage to get the tongue in, though. Her taste… is different than before. Before, she was sweet; addictive in a way that made you want to keep licking. A clean, manufactured sweetness not unlike a candy or syrup. Now though… now she is far more savory, a distinctness to her that feels more… alive?
It’s aphrodisiac, addictive in a way that makes my whole body shiver when I can’t have her. I eagerly part her pussy, my parched lips purposefully plucking against her perfectly pink, plush, pulsing petals; passionately partaking in her prurient puree of pure provocative pleasure. With each slurp and sup I make off her, Gracia’s warm hands cup me in approval, her deft fingers rolling the two sensitive seed-storages all lazily off-tempo from how furiously Gracia sucks me off. Her pace is frantic; hammering the back of her throat with a particularly thick and girthy nail while her hands are paradoxically diligent and gentle, completely unperturbed by the vulgarity above.
“Gracia…” I moan reflexively, gasping for tighter and tighter breaths as the release fast approaches. When she senses my clenching, she giggles softly. There’s a sudden kneading of fingertips into that hidden place, beckoning against a particular muscle group with an upward curl as if to say “it’s okay to let it go~”
I know that, as a doll, Gracia can trigger her own cascade… but that feels like I’d be cheating as a lover if I didn’t give her my all! With thumbs parting her, I delve into a mad rush of sucking and licking, fingering and scooping, grinding my tongue against her puffed and quivering clit until she at least simulates her own winding tension. On the precipice of that climactic release, with every thought directed to the pleasure of face-fucking my love while she orgasms, I have a small nagging thread of a thought-
Just what exactly is a Generation 3 doll capable of? Could she truly simulate raw feelings like Lind could? Could she crank her own pleasure settings, did her body react on a natural impulse or was it programmed, would she blue screen from the raw input like she used to?
Thoughts flooded in, only to be blown away by Gracia’s sultry voice.
“My love…! Cum for me! Do it! I want to cum when I feel your warmth sliding down my throat!” Gracia’s vox module huskily pleads… and after ten years I don’t think my heart could bear making my sweet Gracia wait any longer. I gasp and groan her name into her own faux-flesh, hips bucking wildly as I fuck more of my seed up into her throat like I am trying prove a doll really could suffocate. Her tongue works double-time to cope, swirling and scooping any of it that threatens to spill from her lips while simultaneously coaxing more pulses of my white-hot plasma down the proverbial chute and into her belly.
And… Gracia’s body contracts as well- far more viscerally and violently than I remember. There’s a sharp squeal and, while she doesn’t straight-up crash from the pleasure like she had before, her synth-muscles still contract and tremble while she sings out a steady stream of mewls. Even when I’m spent, Gracia pops her lips from around my twitching manhood and shudders like a leaf in the wind before curling up against me. Braced, another wave of electric pleasure crashes through her systems that makes her squeak cutely.
“C-Commander…” she huffs when finally relaxing, face all flush like she’s out of breath. It tickles that part of my brain- the part one that doesn’t care that she’s a machine made in our image. I reach out to stroke her cheek, to brush the loose, sweat-clung hairs from her face, proclaiming without words: I love this woman.
“It was… like I remember…” she says dreamily after catching her “breath”.
“Not better?” I tease, gently cupping her cheek. She leans into my touch, placing her hand over mine.
“Mmm… perhaps better, but I only have one current sample to go off of, Commander. I need more data points before I can calculate a proper statistical comparison…”
Gracia suddenly sits up and before I can react, pounces upon me, pinning me to the couch. Pale-gold eyes glow, scan, take in data and observations far beyond what a human could consciously comprehend… and she kisses my lips with the delicateness of fluttering butterfly wings.
“I… want you to make love to me next, commander. Show me… how special I am to you.” Gracia shyly implores… but in a way so familiar that the nostalgia makes me slide right past that subtle stab she’s taking at our current Groza. With just one fold undone, the front of her uniform falls open to expose the sensual contrast between her ivory skin and a bra made from intricately woven black lace that seems perfectly molded to show the natural curve of her chest. Gracia plops herself on my belly, shrugs her shoulders, and the thin grey curtain falls away- for the show is about to start.
Her opening act of reaching back to undo her last bit of modesty is unintentionally provocative. Delectably buttery-soft mounds all decoratively wrapped in black lace, thrust out on display while she nonchalantly pinches the clasps… and Gracia catches me staring. Groza- Gracia had always been a modest woman, but with that deep longing aglow in her eyes… she revels in how my gaze never leaves her chest, teasing out how I wait with bated breath for the moment those contrasting cups fall away. Well, it feels like an eternity, but I don’t have to actually wait that long before the thong’s matching partner is on the floor beside it. Gracia giggles at herself, realizing her patience for teasing has faded over the years of it just being us together, and right now she is eager and needy. She must feel how quickly I’ve recovered with it pressing against her and, with a parting kiss and knowing smile, momentarily swings herself off the couch to show herself off. Her frame… her body is the same voluptuous silhouette that’s been burned into my memory. Even if her back is marred with those reminders of what she now is, even if she’s more faded and tarnished in complexion… there’s no denying that she’s still the thunder to my lightning.
The way her hips erotically shift with just a single step is exactly as it always has been; the slightest bounce and jiggle to the synth-flesh of her curves still enthralling; the way that when she spins to face me, she coyly covers up her most errogenous bits with her arm and hands all despite the rough fucking on the screen behind her.
Every movement has been perfectly programmed for seducing me, because who other than Gracia could have that intimate data accrued after years of love and affection?
And God does it work. I reflexively sit up, my cock throbbing harder than before now as she cautiously approaches with the dainty heel-to-toe walk of the world’s most professional models. She reverently kneels down to kiss the tip, eyes shimmering as she looks up at me.
“We should record this memory fragment too,” Gracia purrs as her fingers dance up my length and push me against her lips, “Perhaps I could sync it to my other self so she won’t feel so left out?”
I stiffen -no not that way- at the sudden spike of guilt, but Gracia is unrelenting in her scandalous temptation. She’s suddenly leaning over me, one knee up on the couch between my legs, close enough that her tarnished twin-tails drape down beside my head like blinders, focusing my attention solely on her. Two blush-tipped, tender dumplings jiggle before my eyes but just ever-so-slightly out of my reach as Gracia holds me by the shoulders against the couch. Her grip lightens for only a moment- she had reached past me for something, but the moment I see the remote in her hand, she’s already standing at my feet again.
The TV screen behind her now reflects our current scene like a mirror- the camera built into it recording.
“This way you can see my expression, Darling. I know how much you love my… assets~” Gracia giggles as playfully squeezes her breasts between arms and then spins herself around. Her other “asset” though, well it’s as perfectly crafted as her front, and she gives that perky peach a playful wiggle to show off just how much bounce she’s got.
And then she bends over- God above it makes me want to grab her by the hips and just… rail away, but I hold firm to see just what exactly a woman as romantic as Gracia has in store. My attention is split between seeing her on the screen and what’s before me; the arch to her back and belly- both her chest and her hind offered up as she backs herself to my lap.
Though she glances back at me over her shoulder, I can see the hidden expression on the television screen. Gracia’s blushing bright, biting her bottom lip so hard that, if she weren’t a combat unit, would have broken her dermal-layer. With a little throwing of her hips and hind back, she strokes my length up through her salivating slit with a precision only attributable to a doll.
I expect her to straddle her my spire, line my tip up, and claim her place on the Commander’s seat… she instead sits up all rigid and formal atop my lap. I can feel how her need is burning against my skin, how she’s shivering with a fever that only I can cure… and yet she looks over her shoulder expectantly at me.
“You can put it in, Commander.” Gracia says low and strained, like she’s fighting the urge to devour me again. Shaky hands reach back and grab my own, placing them on her hour-glass waist. “I… like it when you take command of me.”
“I suppose my title suggests it, doesn’t it Gracia?” I smile back, lifting her with surprising ease. She comes to rest right over my cock, but I don't raise the mast just yet. There’s something… different from before, something that I can’t quite place my finger on- even if my fingers right now are tracing Gracia’s weeping slit trying to find that hint. I find her opening instead, walls pulsing with a heartbeat, weeping at the fact that it’s a finger delving in and not my cock. She’s… stickier than I recall- her love juices somehow more viscous and clinging and yet still lubricating enough for my digit to stir. Tender and responsive too, like the synth-flesh could simulate more micro-movements. Clearly there’s been an upgrade to the newest generation of Wombforce- one that the Conglomerates or their "benefactors" must have installed into Gracia’s frame for more nefarious purposes that I don’t want to think about… but that is not quite right?
She feels more… natural?
My heart skips slightly and, to compensate for the missed beat, the next one happens to push a rush of blood to a particularly engorged reservoir that’s now nestled against Gracia’s womanhood. My adjutant feels the swelling throb and, naturally, bawdily begs for another by wiggling, trying to get more of my tip teased within… but stops just shy over simply overpowering my illusion of control.
I let that little bit of insubordination slide, not when she’s so cutely and quietly beckoning me to be inside of her. With one-hand grabbing hold of myself and the other on her, I line up two parts of a coupling, and ease her down. I’m suddenly reminded of her weight now that eagerness overtakes her patience, and she drops herself onto my lap with the most flimsy of urging from my hands.
Despite how many times we’ve done this, it’s our first since she’s fully recovered those memories. A reunion ten years in the making, along with a newly modified frame that stretches to accommodate, flexing and adjusting… remembering. It’s not often that the same person can reexperience their first time, and Gracia’s shoulders seize up along with the rest of her frame. She’s all locked up as her body heaves heated breaths- exhaust from her hardware being taxed to its limit despite becoming a supposed “Third Generation” doll. When I ponder that particular definition, the difference in generation of Wombforce makes itself apparent. Her folds don’t vibrate and buzz as they used to, but instead seemingly flick and lick my length as she contracts and constricts- almost like each fold within her has a mind of its own…
“Commander~” Gracia whines softly, wiggling her hips to distract me- or protesting that I’ve paused. “You’re still commanding me… right?”
Both hands on her hips now, lifting with the strength of Atlas to raise the weight of Gracia’s desires up my spire of pleasure. She’s eager and tight- tight enough to see her inner walls tug at me and lose purchase thanks to her flowing juices. While her body clearly protests the aching vacancy that my warmth leaves in her belly, Gracia needs no other reassurance. With how her frame trembles with excitement when held at the apex of her ascent, she doesn’t need to run any predictive programming to know what will happen next.
Fingers digging into the tender synthflesh of her hips, I slam her down with everything I have, filling her with such swiftness that it punches a surprised “Oh!” from her vox modulator that’s paradoxically timed with a dragging and raspy inhale. I don’t give her time to latch on and suck me deeper- the moment she makes a bouncing touch-down on my lap, I ricochet her back up with a buck of the hips.
Fast and rough, just as she liked. I set the rhythm, and Gracia begins to dance to it, riding my length up and down as precise as a machine-
And through this near-industrial level of pistoning she leans back against me, blocking my view of that wonderful ass rippling with my efforts to mine her out… but not the screen above. It captures Gracia perfectly from the front; how her belly flexes and hips while she work my cock into her, how her breasts bounce and gyrate wildly with our hasty coupling and decoupling, my cock stained with a milky-white cream lubricating it as it rams in and out of her tight and cloying pussy...
Guided by our video, I watch my own hands trace up her perfectly toned belly and to the underside of her supple breasts, cupping and kneading as we fuck, and the touch only makes her ride harder. She tosses her head back, the vox-module in her throat casting moans sweeter than Lind’s candy right into my ear.
Everything about Gracia is soft and supple despite having a frame that could shrug off anti-tank weaponry. Her movements are fueled by passion bordering on madness yet desperate with how she wants to please. The memories from G&K, from the brief and peaceful time after my “retirement”, the things that Statesec did- all of it has changed this instance of her, a wholly separate self from the already divergent neural cloud. This is Groza and Gracia- my adjutant and lover and wife-
And suddenly struck by a guilt-ridden tightness in my chest, I cling desperately to her sweaty frame, hugging tightly and holding Gracia in place. Her body instinctively responds to my embrace, clamping tight to preserve this moment of our union as she sings my name in those same lovingly soothing notes that conjure up my misty memories from ten years ago. Fluttering kisses, names and declarations of love intoxicatedly muttered against skin, lust flipped to romance in an instant.
But I’m still lovingly joined with her deep inside her body, pressing right up against what feels like another opening that suckles at my tip. A throb, the pressure building to the point of bursting-
“W-Wait…” she suddenly gasps, “I want to see your face… I want to hold you when you… cum inside me.” Gracia admits hotly, and I damn near sets me off right then. She still somehow manages to slip off of my hair-trigger-rifle without setting it off, moving to straddle me once more. She looks over her shoulder back at the camera as if to check to see if her prodigious ass is in frame- wait… did she just wink at it?
Before I can tease her about it, she’s switched the display back to the prior memory fragment- though the camera’s light is still on… I think? She doesn’t let me crane my head to see, instead lovingly cupping my cheeks and gently guiding my gaze to her and only her. Nose-to-nose, her breath warm and gentle, her voice and the voice from the speakers one in the same.
“It is my greatest joy as your doll to give you pleasure.” Gracia breathes into my lips “-and that is not just because of my programming.”
She raises her hips, guiding my rod back to its rightful place. It was enough of a break to reset my pressure gauge, so that the mere act of her notching my tip into her womanhood makes me quake with excitement rather than climax.
“I do not wish to simply satisfy your biological impulses, my commander.” Gracia purrs in harmony with herself as her unblinking ocular sensors scan my every facial twitch, observing the truth in my body language. “I wish to make love to you. To see your enjoyment and passion… for me. I want to be the only thing in your head and heart as we copulate… because you are the only thing in mine.”
“I love you too, Gracia.” I smile back, cradling her against me as she lowers her hips.
The second union is slower and more passionate, lending credence to Gracia’s desire for lovemaking. Lithe arms that conceal her frame’s terrifying strength gingerly wrap around my neck as Gracia falls against me with a sigh. Her chest pressed up against mine, the softness of her forming the perfect medium to feel her core fluid pump beating its mimicry of a human pulse alongside my own. Dexterously delicate fingers dance through my hair and massage my scalp as the glow of her golden gaze illuminates the closeness of our faces, eager to capture the moment we are joined once more.
“Do you feel it, my Commander? My everything?” Gracia shyly peeps, her walls cautiously coiling and caressing lest any sudden movements end this romantic reunion earlier than we both want.
“You’re so warm, Gracia… and so gentle.” I reply with a kiss, a single word placating the fears that have recently been plaguing her. “It’s like I can feel every bit of you holding me tight.”
“Y-You too…” she squeaks, suddenly embarrassed and unsure of what she could possibly say. Too cute- I have to hold her, I have to kiss her to show her!
Gracia suddenly lets go though, leaning back enough to show the steamy space between our bodies. The soft pallor of her epidermal mesh contrasts against my own lively and flushed complexion, dragging the eyes down her tight, toned belly into the shadows of where we’re joined in a harmonious union. Gracia grabs one of my hands, guiding it down her taut belly as she pants, “Look… you’re right… here…” before resting it just above her lower abdomen, measuring the depth of our carnal connection.
“A-Ah~! Commander…” she sensually purrs, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of my instinctive throbs of excitement.
“Gracia…” I groan, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back into a loving embrace. I continue to sigh her name and kiss her neck as I gradually start working my hips again and breaking the tight seal she has on my flesh. Small movements at first, a gentle rise and fall with the peaceful waves of a pleasurable sea. We are just paddling out again, though, and the tighter Gracia clings to me, the more I can feel her holding back.
“You can move, my dear.” I smile against the pale locks that smell of a nostalgic golden sweetness, planting a firm kiss that makes my wife melt against my chest. We’re out in the middle of the sea now, and that’s when I start to rock the boat. More of me plunging in and out of her, the wet slaps like waves lapping at the sides of our boat.
Back in our G&K days, she and I had shared a dance or two, bodies intimately close, the audience breathless at her super-natural elegance and beauty- even for a doll.
Gracia puts those graceful movements to a more private performance right here on my lap- and though there’s no seeing the audience this time, we know that there’s still one- or will be one. It only encourages Gracia, inspiring her best performance yet. Voluptuously wide hips dance back and forth on my lap as she tries to work my shape into every inch of herself, re-memorizing me from every angle, from wildly different passionate paces.
I can’t help but vocalize my pleasure too. Each gulp for air and grunt that escapes my lungs makes Gracia shudder with delight.
It isn’t long until the refined movements grow into primitive grinding and humping, my hands clasping her hips tighter than a vice as I try and assist Gracia in impaling herself on me. Feverish kisses, desperate cries of “I’ll love you forever” and “Hold me close!” culminates in Gracia winding herself tight on my cock, clenching so desperately as she tries to hold onto the precipice of pleasure before tumbling off the other end. She throws her arms around my neck, kissing the top of my head feverishly, before curling up against my chest and whispering in my ear;
“You know, my love… I can reshape myself- my internals-”
I’m suddenly held in stasis within her, craving flesh, trapped holding my breath and knowing the conclusion but wanting to hear it. That natural human instinct for procreation craves it.
“The biological elements in me… I hypothesize I can simulate- no… I can potentially make a womb. I could… create a life for us now.”
And without either of us moving, Gracia’s impossibly suckling walls move as if they had a life all their own… moving in such a way to gobble me up even while hilted all the way to my base inside of her. Her walls are different from before… more vigorous, more alive than what had been simulated.
“Gracia-”
“Seed me… Commander!” my beloved doll seductively serenades without a care to who could be listening at the door at this hour. “Give me a new purpose. Separate me even more from her…!” Gracia groans, clinging with a desperation bordering on painful as she makes those frenzied final throws of her hind down on me. Her pleasure peaks and comes loose in a quaking avalanche of sensation. Her scream is gutteral, laced with delirious . Love-juices leak from her, saturating my already Gracia-soaked crotch, and stain the couch as a body as powerful as a Third Gen’s convulses violently and then gives out to the one thing that I doubt any Conglomerate scientist actually developed for.
And despite her body collapsing from an overwhelmingly climax, her insides still move around my cock.
Coaxing me.
Milking me.
Urging and hungry for my seed…
“Make… me… a mother…” Gracia’s voice crackles as her vox-module hits some unexpected interference- so even her upgraded systems couldn’t handle this kind of strain?
Hearing my Gracia beg for it though… well I always had a weakness for giving in to my dolls, but my Oathed most of all. Only takes one more slow and deliberate thrust, her walls quivering in anticipation as I draw myself all the way back to the mouth of her trembling hole… and drive her down one last time. The final crash-landing of her on my lap impaled so deeply that, though she grinds herself down and whines for more, there’s nothing else that can physically fill her; the electric thrill of every fold and pleat of syrupy, fleshy satin coiling and writhing on my length as I carve my flesh into hers; my tip slamming into and compressing a so delectably soft spot in the back of her womanhood… I experience it all in a single shot of pure euphoria and I let my virility free with a rumbling groan. My hips buck and muscles spasm as a hot load blasts upwards into Gracia’s womb- it could only be a womb, artificial or otherwise, because unlike previous wombforce reservoirs, my semen vanishes within instead of filling and spilling back through her folds. It's like Gracia’s frame is drinking spurt after sticky-white spurt, sucking on my meaty straw until there’s no milk left.
“Commander… Darling… Dear…” Gracia coos the static from her voice little -by-little until her affirmations of love are crisp and clear once again. While she curls up close against me all nuzzled up like a bunny** in its den, I manage to reach behind me for the remote and turn both the camera and screen off. The next step would be to clean up the mess, maybe shower, and hope that none of the other dolls truly discovered that this movie night had quickly devolved into a night battle of epic proportions.
Gracia, however, has other ideas. I try to lift her, but now she feels like she’s made of lead. Hell, I barely manage to pull myself out of her, even when spent! It's like she had latched on, intent to stay like this until I woke up with a morning wood already nestled inside of her.
“Gracia, there’s a bed in the loft we can use, you know.” I whisper, brushing my lips past her ear affectionately. She can pick out the subtle pleading in my voice, though, and reluctantly lifts herself- though doesn’t bother picking up her clothes as she grabs me by the hand and leads me up the stairs.
It’s looking like it will be a long night still… and knowing exactly which doll will arrive to rec-room duty tomorrow morning and finding the door locked-
Well… I might as well enjoy the rest of this evening while I still have it. Afterall, this will probably be the last night of peace I’ll get for the foreseeable future... because I have this sneaking suspicion that lightning just might happen to strike the same place twice soon enough-