18. Tisha

He drove this time, and she sat there in rigid silence, waiting for that red glow to disappear from his visor. They’d been racing along neglected side roads off the main freeway for hours. Night had fallen, and he was still in that state. His spike-capped knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he took a sharp right.

The blood on them, and on the rest of him, had long since dried, leaving faint brownish blotches marring his black shell. Tisha wasn’t much better, arms and shirt stained red. It smelled like copper in the air. At first it had made her feel sick, but she’d long since gotten used to it.

“Ouch,” she winced as he took another sudden turn, yanking her hard into her seatbelt. Tisha rubbed her neck, which was not having it with all the jolting.

“We’re almost there,” he muttered.

At least that long-ass blade that had protruded from his wrist before wasn’t there anymore.

Tisha wanted to ask where he was taking her, and if he was still… he… under that bloodied shell.

“What are…” She stopped herself before finishing the question, because what if he was gone? She wanted to just sit there with her idea of him for a little while longer, before having it all go to hell.

The sidelong look he threw her made her belly clench.

“I am Ansel,” he said, and the certainty in his low voice made her belly clench.

Tisha released a wavering breath, blinking fast as relief let her clenched body unwind, warmth pooling into her chest.

She felt his glancing attention on her again, this time lingering.

“What, do you read fucking minds or something?” Tisha sank deeper into her seat, pulling her braids over her shoulder like a shield from his scrutiny.

“No,” he said. “I read pheromones.”

She swallowed, shame flushing her face. God, he could smell it on her. Like she was a damn dog in heat or some shit.

Her curiosity betrayed her though, and she turned her head a little, peering at him from the corner of her eye. Her gaze slid down along his coiled body—the way he dwarfed the driver’s seat would be almost comical if she’d been in a state of mind to appreciate it. She followed the glowing red edges of his armor all the way down, and there she tore her eyes away, facing straight ahead.

The curiosity would only be stifled for a few silent minutes. She brushed a loose braid behind her ear and looked back over, head barely turning to bring him into view, as if that’d help her hide. The thick cylindrical member bulged upright from his groin, and this time she couldn’t stop staring regardless of how the tops of her ears warmed. Fuck, so that’s what it looked like. And he was turned on after all this?

Directly beneath the base of his shaft, a cluster of strands was suspended in some sort of fluid and surrounded by a cloudy synthetic membrane. The membrane tightened before her eyes, drawing the “organ” up tight. Tisha swallowed, realizing he was watching her watch him. But what the hell—if he already knew she was gawking at it, why stop now?

She followed the sack up along the length of the thick black cylinder. She couldn’t believe that whole thing had been inside her the night before. If she’d seen it then, she might have hesitated, doubting her ability to handle it. At the top was a smooth notch that tapered out sharply and then sloped in—a subtle head that looked like it might be softer to the touch than the rest of the construction.

Why did they give him a dick anyway?

“You’re turned on?” She tried to make it sound blasé, but her voice came out breathy.

The dim red glow of his “eyes” pulsed at her face, then lowered to the parting of her shirt. “Yes.”

It wasn’t the same as a human man, who’d make his lust readily visible in his face. But Tisha could feel the heat of desire radiating from this faceless machine. Ansel communicated it in the tilt of his chin, the lingering stare, the way his arm shifted as he tightened his grip on the wheel. This was subtler, more open to interpretation, and something about that made it so fucking hot.

Tisha cast a brief look at the road, confirming what appeared to be a straight stretch. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip, trying to figure out if she was about to make a horrible mistake.

Fuck it.

She turned herself more fully toward him and chanced reaching her hand across the dash between their seats.

The car’s electric motor whined as Ansel accelerated at the first brush of her fingers against his groin. Tisha peeked into his mask, seeing only her own reflection. She searched for any sign of danger, knowing full well by the time she saw it that it would be too late.

His shoulder stiffened, synthetic striations rippling beneath his shell as she slid her open palm between his legs and up the corded underside of his cock. It was warm, unlike the rest of his cool hull.

“Can you… Do you have sensors there?”

She didn’t really need his affirming grunt, because she felt by the way he expanded under her touch that he sensed something. This part of him felt all machine, like the rest of him—but there was an almost satin texture beneath her fingers as she stroked upward. Two flat vein-like wires running up the length of the shaft were tucked neatly against the surface, textured but not sharp.

It was a thoughtfully designed penis. Not just put there willy-nilly, yet also not pretending to be something it wasn’t. Tisha had never tried a lustbot, but she’d seen pics and videos. They were made to resemble people as much as possible. All parts of them. The uncanniness of it revolted her on a visceral level.

Ansel was not designed to play human. This thing in her hand was a tool like every other part of him. Efficient and expensive. For what? Why did a combat bot, an enforcer, need the ability to make love?

“What does it feel like?” she whispered when he twitched in response to her thumb stroking over the sleek head.

He tightened his grip on the wheel, crimson eyes fading as though shutting out the world and leaving a big black void.

“It feels like a million nanosensors activating in unison, all over my body… Tisha…” The grunt sounded like a warning, car twitching just a little. A well-oiled machine like Ansel would never swerve, of course. He was way too advanced for that. But—Tisha eyed him mischievously—she wondered how close she could get.

“Activating in unison…” she urged, circling her hand around his thick girth. She squeezed, enjoying the way it pulsed in her hand.

“Progressing to the SSPU. Where your stomach would be. The…” The thick polymer muscle of his thigh tensed, rippling. “The nervesim tissue there tightens around my components, creating a constriction that registers as positive.”

“And then?” Tisha squeezed her hand down the smooth surface of him, then back up. Her eyebrows went up when a transparent droplet emerged from the tip of the head and beaded there. She licked her lips and pressed a fingertip to the liquid. It was oily, spreading on her skin and slicking the way for her palm to slide along his length more easily. The plates of his armored eight-pack shifted and bulged as he curled in his shoulders. “Ansel? And then?”

“Then… the biofeedback surges back through the haptic matrix woven through my exoskeleton, creating a reaction loop that issues jolts which feel somewhat… dangerous… in their magnetic forces. They hyperfocus and disorient me at the same time.”

Tisha hummed, continuing her leisurely exploration of his cock with her hand.

“You’ve told me how it works,” she said, leaning closer over the space between them. “But how does it feel?”

Her skin was tight… magnetic almost, like he said. It was disorienting. It was hyperfocus, the way she had tunnel vision for one thing only in that moment. His visor pulsed as he processed that, massive arm shifting over the wheel.

“It feels like falling,” he concluded. He kept his eyes fixed on the road. “It feels paradoxical. Like it’s too much, and yet I don’t want it to stop.”

Tisha smiled, her heart clenching at the found point of connection. She leaned forward, breath fogging the side of the visor as she whispered, “I know exactly how that feels.”

Then she dipped below Ansel’s arm and pressed her lips to the head of his shaft.

The heat radiating from it seeped into her kiss as she parted her lips, locking them around the tip of him and sliding her tongue across it.

The deep groan he released spurred her on. She sighed, sliding her mouth and tongue down his side.

“Tisha… Shit,” he muttered, and the car veered to the right. It bounced for a few seconds along the bumps and bruises of the road before coming to a sudden halt.

She did that. Tisha salivated at the thought of distracting this superhuman thing. All that processing power, all these weapons and armor, and still she had the power to ground them on the side of the road in the middle of the night.

As Ansel turned off the car and plunged them into complete darkness, Tisha kissed her way back up his thick cock and took the head fully between her lips. She was already buzzed with arousal, but feeling him twitch against her tongue turned want into desperation.

She worked herself down, exploring the heat, taste, and texture with her tongue. When she got to her limit and could go no deeper, a firm hand on the back ofher head coaxed her lower with calculated ease.

He knew exactly what her limits were. Through meticulous biosensors and calculations, he knew what she could take. She leaned into his guidance, pressing her tongue flat to the side of his shaft as she was led further. He kept nudging until the hinge of her jaw strained and her vision fuzzed at the edges. Her chest constricted for a breath, pressure building between her ears.

At that perfect moment, he eased back, guiding her back up for an inhale. She was rewarded with another bead of that oil on her tongue. She suckled it from him hungrily, desperate to catch his taste.

The flavor itself was neutral, she registered vaguely. Mildly sweet and inoffensive in its subtlety. But something about it made her fucking salivate for more.

She closed her eyes and sank deep with his hand on her head and his hips rising to meet her, increasing her pace from luxurious study to something more targeted. There was an end goal here as Tisha slathered the mechanical cock in her mouth with her spit.

His hard abdomen pressed into her nose as he leaned over to release her seatbelt with a click. Another click and his seat slid back. Tisha didn’t need any encouragement. Releasing his cock for a split second, she clambered over the center dash and kneeled on the floor of the driver’s seat. His hand flashed blurry and unfocused in her vision, splayed on his inner thigh with sharp, bloody knuckles still extended.

Just hours ago he’d killed people with the same brutal hands that gently gathered her braids back from her face now. The same ones grasping his cock to guide it back to her mouth.

She took it hungrily, moaning around him as another bead of his version of cum slid to her tongue as a reward. There was something fucked up about it that drove her wild. Was that part of his design, or was she just that much of a slut for all this?

Tisha’s hips had been grinding for a while, her arousal slick between her legs as she bobbed her head between his legs. On an upstroke, she looked up at him, searching for a hint of reaction on his face.

There was none. The black visor betrayed no emotion, not even the glow of his “eyes” illuminating the canvas of his mask. Instead, she saw the reflection of her own lips curled around him in the glass. Her wet, hungry eyes gazing from beneath upturned brows. His chin tilted down and Tisha recognized the acute sensation that even though his eyes were dimmed, he was there—and he was watching.

She had other signs too. The strain of a cord in his neck, the tension of the armored plates atop his chest and abs. She had his hands, one holding her hair and the other sweeping a gentle thumb along her hollowed cheek. She had the faint vibration humming from within him and now, she realized, a distant current whispering between his shell and her skin, calling her closer.

There was the swell of his shaft in her mouth as it grazed her throat and the tightening of his synthetic sac when her chin squeezed against it on a downstroke. His raw hiss, and the lean of him as he curled himself forward over her, massive rounded shoulders blocking out the moonlight.

He was close, and she doubled her efforts, sucking and slurping with abandon until finally his massive thighs tensed beneath her and the first spurt of oil hit the roof of her mouth. She almost gasped with the force of it, bringing her hands up to hold his pulsing shaft steady at the base. Her throat worked to swallow every drop of him. It seemed to go on forever, but when her belly was full, the rest of her was still empty.

Before the thought had even finished forming, he intuited what she wanted and dragged her up from the floor to straddle his lap. Ansel popped her jeans open and shoved them down over her hips, calves, ankles with a few effortless yanks. Dragging her thong to the side, he wasted no time and pulled her writhing hips onto his still shooting cock.

“God, Ansel,” she groaned as the length of him stretched her all at once and in the most satisfying way. She was already so close—it only took seconds for the fullness and pressure of him inside her to make her come apart. She dropped her head to his shoulder as the rest of her unfurled. Her back arched, abdomen taut with the stretch. She laid her arms over the driver’s seat, on either side of his neck, and flexed her toes as the orgasm surged from her apex to the tip of every limb.

Her pussy clenched around him as she took him deep, relishing in the way he throbbed inside her with the remainder of his own release. She couldn’t quite make herself move, her body and mind in a haze. He urged her on, powerful hands gripping her hips and rolling them onto his shaft in a way that hit just the right spot each time. A current cascaded along her spine with every hilting of his cock inside her. Her body knew the drill, and the drill was to let this faceless machine meticulously fuck the shit out of her, dragging her along his cock as she rode out her orgasm.

When it was done, both of them glistening with the oils of their respective arousal at their meeting point, Tisha turned her cheek and caught her breath against his neck.

“Ansel,” she breathed. She slid her arms from the seat to grip the sides of his visor in both hands.

“Yeah…” His jaw turned into her temple and he raked a hand from her hip to the curve of her ass, making her walls squeeze him as he squeezed her.

“Why did they make you taste so fucking good? Feel so good?”

Her face lifted atop his shoulder with his slow shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.”

His low chuckle made her groan, and she burrowed her face into his neck.

Tisha got to drift in the afterglow atop him for a few minutes before he roused her with a gentle tap on the side of her hip. They had to get going.

She had clambered over to the passenger seat and buttoned her jeans back up when the headlights appeared in their rearview mirror.

“Shit. Someone’s here.” She stiffened, twisting in her seat. The black sedan stopped a few car lengths back, its blue-tinged headlights blinding as they washed over their car.

Ansel sat motionless behind the wheel.

“Ansel?” Tisha fidgeted. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“I know this vehicle’s signature.”