Babygirl You Caught my AI
Contrary to popular belief, Date doesn’t just hide porn mags wherever; there is a method to his mess. His NTR porn goes behind the fridge, the teratophilia ones go under the bed, and so on. (The underneath of the rug is to hide his cooking magazines. He can’t let people know how much he’s practiced that one stew Mizuki likes so much.)
Today, he’s rummaging behind his speakers. He’s in a milf mood right now. Ah, but which to choose? There’s this pegging one he’s really fond of, or maybe the one with the busty blonde…
[I recommend the #3979 copy from Big Tiddy Edition. I recall one of their models looked quite similar to Hitomi.]
Date startles so hard he drops his porno mag. “Aiba, what the fuck?!”
[You were going to picture her, weren’t you? You want to smooooch her.]“Who even says smooch? What are you, five?”
[I am turning six in September, actually.]“Hah-hah. Smartass.” He picks up his magazine and sets it back on the pile- it’s a collector, he can’t just leave it on the bare floor. “I wasn’t gonna picture Hitomi anyways. She’s a very attractive woman, but I know plenty of attractive people. Maybe I was going to think of Boss. Or Pewter. Or no one at all! The models of these magazines are pretty hot, you know?”
[True. But you have been thinking about Hitomi more lately. In sexual and nonsexual scenarios alike.]
A couple weeks ago, they rolled out an update that prevents the AI-balls from seeing their holder’s thoughts. Date had politely declined the update at the time; she’s been with him for almost as long as he has been [Date.] It would just be weird to suddenly be alone in his head again. (And yes, he’s aware that this sort of codependency is exactly what shoved him into depression central during the three months when he thought her dead, but Date has never claimed to be a healthy and stable individual. At this point all he can hope for is that his issues somehow cancel each other out.)
Right now though, he really, really wishes Aiba could see just five percent less of his mind. “That doesn’t mean anything! You know me, I’m a daydreaming guy! I think inappropriately about everyone all the time!”
[Youuuu liiiike heeeer.] Aiba sing-songs smugly. [You’re a tsundere fooor heeer.]Date throws his hands in the air. “Oh my god, you are so childish.”
[You waaaant her.] A blink- and suddenly Aiba’s human form fizzles in the left side of his vision. She takes a step towards him, and he steps back by reflex.
[You want her to touch you,] Her hand bats at his, passing through his flesh, [here. You want her to hold your hand. Her palms seemed quite soft. I can understand.]
Another step. Aiba’s model is a bit shorter than Date. She’s flat, scrawny, a shrimp gijinka he could easily fight. Date takes another step back.
[You want her to touch you there.] Her pointer finger grazes his bottom lip. Her hand is transparent. The red lines coursing through her palms are most likely meant to represent veins, but Date finds them reminiscent of bones. They make his heart skip a beat. [You want her to kiss you. Did you know that the lips and tongue are among the most sensitive parts of the human body?]
Another step. Date backs away one last time. The back of his knees hit the edge of the couch, and he stumbles on the seat.
[You want her to touch you here.] Aiba leans forward, fingers hooking around his collar. They faze through the cloth, obviously; she’s not actually here. He can’t feel her touch, or her warmth, or anything physical. But the sight alone is doing things to him. Aiba’s hand slides down his chest, and-
Holy fucking shit she’s dropping on his knees before him.
[You want her to do this to you. Don’t you?]
Date doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust his voice not to waver. He doesn’t need to though. Soon enough Aiba’s image wavers and vanishes. Instead of bullying him, his left eye looks down, turning on thermo vision to look at- “Hey!”
[Do not worry. I have already seen your penis before.]
“There’s a difference between getting your flaccid dick checked out and getting your boner checked out!”
[And I have seen both previously. What’s your point?] She’s right, but he’s not going to tell her that. [Though I am surprised. I thought you were more of a visual person. I was unaware that words alone could turn you on.]
“Oh, because you didn’t give me any visual at all.” He says sarcastically. Idly, he rubs his thighs together. “And I am a versatile man with versatile tastes. I like all sorts of pornos, be they animated, still images, or podcasts!”
[That is true. You do have a surprisingly wide array of kinks.]
“What, you keep a list?”
[I already have enough junk files in my data because of you.]
“Junk data, you say?”
Aiba responds by flashing him with the thermo outline of his own dick, which shuts him up real fast.
[Bold words from someone with such a pressing problem. Should I leave?]
He snorts. “Do whatever you want. But I am taking care of it either way. If you want to stay, that’s not my problem.”
(Aiba and Date’s relationship is one he has never fully managed to put into words. They’ve been dancing on a song of their own for the past six years, I love you I hate you I hope to never see you ever again, make-believe and pretend and five different layers of snark. When Aiba says should I leave what she means is do you want my help? And when Date says you can stay what he means is I want you I need you please keep talking. They would never express these desires out loud, but they know. They share a brain, after all.)
His hands make short work of his belt. Soon his cock is in hand, half-mast. He pumps it a couple times to get it to fully harden. He knows Aiba is watching him, witnessing the heat rise in his body.
[Pervert.] Aiba comments with no heat. [I believe Hitomi’s hands are slightly smaller than yours. Can you imagine it? Thinner fingers, wrapped around you.]