Cyborg Love

“Tymithy was never programmed for sex,” Skylyr’s Mother admonished.

Skylyr regarded her with a cold glare. “You wanted to see how an emotion like loyalty would impact the behavior of a cyborg. Now you know. I fell in love with him.”

“Human-cyborg relationships are illegal! He doesn’t love you…he is a machine…”

“He is more man than machine! He may have metal in his bones, nanotechnology in his blood and a downloadable brain, but what you have really created is not a cyborg, but an advanced version of a human!”

“I will take Tymithy back to my lab and remove…”

“You will not,” Skylyr warned. “You wanted your experiment, you have the results. You are the one who helped me give him Free Will. Now get out!”

Tymithy wrapped his arms around her.

“I don’t believe that she meant either of us any harm,” he whispered.

Skylyr tenderly traced the line of Tymithy’s rugged jaw. “I don’t regret anything, Tymithy. But, we must be careful in public.”

“For you I am a man, for the rest of the world, I am a cyborg.” He caught her face in his hands. His lips moved over hers possessively, his hands slipping under her sweater. Skylyr pressed herself hungrily against his body, laying a hot trail of kisses across his neck to nibble at his earlobe.

A very un-cyborg-like groan escaped Tymithy’s throat as Skylyr’s tongue roved over his sensor filled skin. He wanted her now. When she was out of his sight, his need was not as great. As soon as his magenta eyes could find her within the range of his vision, all logic seemed to have been deleted from his brain. It took all his military trained restraint to keep from ripping her clothes off in front of anyone who might be near. These urges grew stronger each time they made love. Tymithy had begun to worry that something was wrong with him. He ran self-diagnostics and scanned himself for viruses, both physical and mental. It all came back negative. He soon realized that he was experiencing human emotions. Love. Affection. Lust. Need. Desire.

Tymithy slid his hands downward to cup Skylyr’s ass, lifting her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His urgency was so great that he did not want to take the few steps to the bedroom. The kitchen counter was closer. Skylyr made no protests as he slid her onto the Formica. His cyborg strength easily tore her jeans in half. Her sweater, panties and bra lay in a shredded heap seconds later.

“Tymithy…,” she gasped. “Please…”

His lips silenced her as he buried his hands in her silky hair. She undid his belt and heavy leather pants with a deftness borne of practice. He could feel the softness of her breasts through his thin t-shirt. Longing to feel them skin-to-skin, he ripped his own shirt off. She stroked him, urging him to her impatiently. Tymithy took one pink nipple in his mouth to suckle greedily as he thrust into her. She moaned in satisfaction as her hands gripped his hips to set the rhythm. He could give her whatever she wanted, for as long as she wanted, however she wanted. The cyborg half of him could last as long as he told his body to. The human half of him just wanted to be with her, to make her happy, to leave her sated.

His advanced senses told him when she was close. He pulled out of her, spread her legs wider, and began to lick.

The orgasm rocked Skylyr so hard; she thought her body was going to explode. Before she could recover, Tymithy’s tongue brought her again. Her back arched and she dug her nails into his shoulders, drawing thin lines of synthetic blood. His teeth flicked just so over her clit and she honest to God thought she had died and gone to some kind of erotic Heaven. Her thighs were trembling with the force of the climax, when he gathered her in his arms and pulled her to him again. He cradled her against his chest as he found just the right angle that would massage her womanhood and slid into her. A few pumps of his gloriously muscled hips and she screamed his name.

Tymithy loosened his hold on her so he could see her beautiful hazel eyes. Sweaty curls framed her face, which he gently pushed back. They were still as one and he wanted to gaze at her as he prepared for his own release. His body thrummed with unspent energy. He could feel it climbing to a peak that would not be denied.

“I love you, Skylyr. I am always yours.”

“I love you, too.”

Tymithy ground himself against her, watching the way she threw her head back in ecstasy. He knew she could take one more. He thrust faster, and just before letting himself climax, he slipped his hand between them to give her clit a quick gentle pull. It sent her over the edge with a shudder that clamped her inner muscles around him so tightly that there was no way he could have held back, no matter how much his brain had been programmed. He felt the hot release of artificial semen jet from his hard manhood into her core. The sensation was like no other he experienced. His inner downloaded files gave it names like joy and pleasure. It made him feel more human than any other act…and it left him wanting more. And only with Skylyr.

Skylyr was a quivering mass of flesh in Tymithy’s arms. At 22, she had never been with anyone else and never wanted to be. He would bring her again and again and again. If she ever landed in jail for this illicit affair, it would be worth it for every perfect moment that she and Tymithy shared.