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    Help! I just had SEX with an AI and I liked it, maybe virtual companions aren’t so bad after all

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    Press my tits :pspot_img

    Bridgette’s eyes flitted across her laptop screen. She’d been doom-scrolling the same website for hours—at random clicking off the browser, then looping herself in again.

    Yes, she’d told herself she would stop to focus on her physics homework many minutes before. And no, that was yet to actually occur.

    “Fuck,” she cursed under her breath. Her internet connection had fizzled out. She rose from her wooden chair and strolled to the library’s front desk.

    It was only then she realized how terribly she stood out, hunched over with her schoolbag pressed to her chest. Wispy, light brown tresses clung to her cheekbones. Everyone else in the Ivy League library looked the exact opposite—clad in their best clothes while sipping Starbucks drinks that costed more than her entire outfit. Bridgette couldn’t even name the second-hand vendor she bought her textbooks off of. She was an oily loser.

    She shuffled her feet to the library’s front desk, then froze. A couple was giggling in a computer booth nearby. They snuck kisses while the librarian wasn’t looking, and the boyfriend ran his hands up the girlfriend’s thighs.

    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bridgette grumbled to herself. She’d enrolled herself in a competitive school because she wanted to escape this type of nonsense, not indulge it. And just to her luck, PDA popped up no matter what room she holed herself into. It was like the universe was trying to punish her for being single.

    “…Uh, hello?” A student librarian locked onto Bridgette’s grey eyes. “Can I help you with anything?” He had a chiseled bone structure, irises like chocolate drops, and thick eyebrows. It wouldn’t have surprised Bridgette if he forayed into modelling once exam season finished.

    Blushing, she quickly glanced away from the couple she was gaping at. They were thankfully too absorbed in their make-out session to catch her ‘privacy’ intrusion. “No, I’m good.” She rasped.

    The librarian raised an eyebrow, adding, “If you’re here about the internet connection, we’re working to get that fixed. There’s been a power outage on this end of the campus. Has something to do with the area.”

    Bridgette’s chest deflated. So, she really would have to stop browsing that website now. “Okay, thanks for letting me know,” she murmured while starting for her desk. As she turned her back on the librarian, however, he called out to her.

    “And hey, one more thing?” Bridgette swivelled on her heel to see him regarding her intensely. It was almost like he was checking her out.

    “Yeah?” She replied hesitantly. If this was going to be one of those pranks where he signalled his friends to dump something over her head, she’d seriously self-implode. Her day was dreary enough without being reminded of her social status. Or lack thereof.

    A smirk crept onto the librarian’s face. “Your eyes are really pretty. They remind me of a wolf’s.” Upon noting Bridgette’s static reaction, he spluttered, “I mean, in a good way. You’ve got a mysterious air to your face, which I think looks cool.”

    Bridgette smiled, biting her lip. “Thank you. I like your eyes, too.” Crinkles formed at the corners of the librarian’s eyes. The more Bridgette looked at him, the more she thought she knew him from somewhere. Those fluffy brown bangs that framed his cheekbones, and his razor-sharp jawline. Why was he so familiar?

    Before Bridgette could part her lips to ask, a girl budged her way to the front of the line. She impatiently demanded a renewal of her library card, and glared at Bridgette for ever having stood in her way.

    Okay, I’ll back off, Bridgette thought as she caught her cue to leave. Before she slinked back to her desk, she took one last glance at the librarian. He was also sneaking looks in her direction, and flashed a lopsided grin when she met his eyes.

    Bridgette smiled back and returned to her laptop. Her cheeks glowed a bright scarlet, matching her thick wool scarf.

    She didn’t expect to meet anyone special while she was out studying. And she also knew this could’ve meant nothing more than any other pleasant interaction she’d gotten In public. Still, her body jittered in anticipation as she headed home for the day.

    Who are you, librarian? Bridgette’s mind raced with questions as she exited the library’s revolving doors. Who was that man? Would she ever see him again? And why was she so magnetised by his words?

    Her heart thumped so loudly it became the only sound her ears could pick up. Bridgette thought she’d explode from how vigorously her pulse raced.

    There was only one thing she could say of her encounter with the librarian for certain. She wanted to see a lot more of him.

    And she’d do everything she could to make that a future reality.

     Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month.

    Bridgette would run into the charming librarian from time to time. Once, he towered her while she read against a bookshelf. He was reaching over her to straighten a stack of books on the ledge above her. Cowering under his tall, pale muscles, Bridgette feared her heart would explode from how wildly it pounded. The man, whose name she learned to be Mike, was breathtaking. The way his bangs swooped right above his sharp nose, and how his teeth would glimmer like gems whenever he laughed, always got her feeling hotter. And he laughed a lot. He was probably the most easygoing personality Bridgette had ever spent time with on this stuffy campus.

    Mike was special.

    Bridgette began to spruce up her appearance. She cut her shiny waves to a shoulder-length style that only curled at the tips. And most days, she slicked the sides of her fringe back with a butterfly claw, and flaunted her curves through camisoles and tube tops. Bridgette loved the way Mike would peer at her changes. He seriously thought she wouldn’t see him gaping at her cleavage as she bended over his shoulders to ‘read’ a funny joke. No, Mike, she thought amusedly—the only joke is how oblivious you are.

    The way things were going, Mike was a short while away from becoming fully hers. All she was waiting for was the big question—will you go on a date with me?

    Urging his confession was a lot harder than she’d anticipated, though. To start, he was enrolled in a major that was just as difficult as hers. Mathematics undergrads were buried in course review at this time of year. The same went for physics students like Bridgette, but she was good enough at math and science to not have to fear a few missed study hours. Unlike Mike, who vented about how long calculations were a huge sore point for him.

    Bridgette tried to guide him through the struggle by giving him free tutoring lessons. But she soon understood that being an academic whiz was putting a lot of pressure on him during exam season. He began to renege on their promises to meet up in the library, and soon, Bridgette wouldn’t even glean him working his shifts at all.

    It was like he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

    The transition was awful. Bridgette went from an endless supply of her crush’s attention to none. She needed something to fill the void within her, but she didn’t want to flirt with random guys until her and Mike’s ‘situationship’ flourished. Now that she met him, she was wholly hooked on his flair—Bridgette wanted him now, needed him like she needed oxygen. But he was nowhere in sight, and Bridgette couldn’t even rely on hearing the rumble of his sexy laugh the next day.

    So, she returned to the website that preceded their first interaction. The build your dream companion generator.

    The website sounded super sketchy the first time she heard of it. Not to speak of messed up. People were paying for digital companionship when there were millions of singles around the world without a glimpse of love.

    With Bridgette slowly becoming one of them.

    She didn’t know where she stood with Mike. He was hot-and-cold, sometimes treating her like she was his world and other times not acknowledging her at all.

    She hated that about real men. And since users were able to generate any type of ‘person’ they liked for a one-time fee, why would she resist the chance to satiate her desires?

    Part 2: The f#cking is here

    Bridgette’s fingers crept beneath her shorts. Oh my god, am I seriously doing this?

    She didn’t know what was wrong with herself. A literal robot was plastered before her eyes—not the six-foot hunk she fawned over all day, but some technological Frankenstein of him. His eyes were lifeless, not warm, and his lips curved too cockily. This wasn’t Mike.

    It was an AI.

    She couldn’t feel attraction towards this muddle of pixels. Slowly she brought her cursor to the ‘x’ portion of her tab—with the click of her mouse, everything would end right then and there. No more feelings of confusion. No more ridiculous obsessing over a guy she should’ve just asked out herself.

    Everything would end.

    Bridgette’s eyes wavered with distress. Her mind urged her to leave the AI website, but her body refused to acknowledge its wrongs. What she was doing was wrong. Mike deserved better than to be mimicked in some digital fantasy.

    And Bridgette was so close to clicking the ‘x’ button. As her cursor hovered the prompt, it shone in its fiery hue. You can do this, Bridgette. Nothing can beat the real Mike.

    “But what if you don’t care about the real Mike?” A familiar voice suddenly asked. Bridgette’s eyes shot open—the AI, previously a still image on her screen, was now moving. Its lips flapped to each syllable that escaped its mouth. “What if you want something better?”

    Bridgette jerked back in her chair. This couldn’t be possible. This was an AI. An illustration that was a composite of real creations. It couldn’t speak or feel, nor challenge and envy.

    “W-What’s going on?” She stammered. Her laptop screen flickered to a higher brightness, and the Ai’s smirk went higher. He—no, it—was clearly getting satisfaction out of this.

    The AI Mike prodded, “You clearly want me, don’t you? So why are you holding back?” He folded his arms over his chest. Bridgette’s mouth moistened at the way his biceps bulged.

    “Don’t be stupid,” she spluttered. “You’re a robot. I can’t want something that’s not even real!” She was panting heavily now, her forehead dotted with sweat. Why am I so damn hot, she thought while averting the AI’s gaze. Her system’s fan was working on overdrive. Some part of this website’s code was acting up, and Bridgette wasn’t sure if she had the guts to discover what.

    Quirking an eyebrow, the AI Mike strode to the forefront of her laptop screen. He was no longer bounded by his chat box’s vertical profile. “If I wasn’t real, could I do this?” Out of nowhere, the AI began to unzip his pants. Bridgette could only glimpse the spectacle from the corner of her eyes, but her chest tingled as if the AI striptease was happening right in her room.

    In seconds, the ‘Mike’ stopped moving. Bridgette glanced at her screen reluctantly—and couldn’t believe what she saw when she did. Dark, thin pubes trailed down to a cock so huge it could’ve belonged to a beast. Bridgette watched in awe as the AI played with his dick, spritzes of semen flying from the tip.

    “I want you to imagine how it’d be like to suck on this,” the AI Mike growled. Bridgette clenched her thighs—even his voice had a deepened, sexy husk to it. She obliged to his demands and looked at his massive set of balls. They hung low, and were pink and veiny like the rod that swung atop them.

    “Fuck,” gasped Bridgette as she reclined in her chair. She couldn’t handle this anymore. Her nipples were poking past the neckline of her cami, her pussy just as parched for sex. She needed stimulation. Wanted to swallow that huge, gargantuan dick until it gagged her unconscious.

     But she couldn’t reach through the screen and shove his package down her throat. So, she moaned in agony, flailing to satiate her horniness with the help of her fingers. Small strokes, up and down her vulva, did little to fulfill her appetite. Her insides were craving more. Something bigger.

    “Play with your titties like I’m the one fondling them,” The AI Mike demanded. His glistening set of abs were on full display. Bridgette nodded feebly, raising her hands up to her boobs.

    Again, she was reluctant. What if this was being recorded by some pervert on the other side of the globe? Someone had to be powering this AI. And their requests were getting more and more risqué.

    “You don’t have to worry about anyone else,” assured the AI Mike. “It’s just you and I here—and we’re clearly both having a good time.”

    Bridgette gulped. Now, he was reading her mind, too. She couldn’t tell whether she’d encountered a glitch in the website’s code, or if a cyber god stood before her eyes. Whatever it was, her body couldn’t bear to resist the AI’s bulky, muscled figure anymore. Her insides thirsted to be ravaged like she was their spoils of war—perhaps, a war for her heart. He was really luring her in harder than the man she knew in real life. And having those prosthetic eyes watch her masturbate was the closest thing she could get to intercourse.

    So, Bridgette rolled up her cami from its hemline. Her hands slowly rubbed her boobs, then began to twirl her hardened nipples.

    “Ah,” she moaned while tipping her chin to the ceiling. Her throat bobbed up and down, imagining the AI’S massive penis sliding in and out of her. She’d cough and splutter, saliva pooling where she’d savor the AI’s creamy liquids.

    And her breast were on fire, too. She could feel the AI suckling her nipples from the tips. He rolled his tongue around her areola, and spat at her chest before biting it sultrily.

    “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” The AI quipped mischievously. His voice lowered to an even sexier huskiness than before. Bridgette was too flustered to admit her eroticisms, instead keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

    But then, the AI had a new order for her to follow. “Get on all fours,” he shot brusquely. Bridgette jolted in shock—did he seriously mean, bare her most vulnerable spots for him to see up-close?

    “I-I could never do that!” She argued. “We’ve already done enough. You should be satisfied now.” Though, both Bridgette and the AI knew she wasn’t. She was hoping for him to say no and pound her into submission. Her nether region was still drenched with desire.

    The AI Mike remarked, “Oh? But I don’t think that you are.” His gaze drifted to below her waist. “And I’d like to be apart of every second of your enjoyment.”

    Bridgette blushed. She was enjoying this. But there was no way the AI could be, too. It didn’t have emotions like she did.

    So, why was she so drawn towards its vacant eyes? As if she was hypnotized under its spell, she got on her knees and turned so that her rear was facing the computer screen. Her most vulnerable spots, her gaping, wet hole, was all on full view for him to scrutinise.

    “Lovely,” he said breathily. “Now, begin the show.”

    And Bridgette began to pleasure herself. She rocked herself so violently she felt like the AI had plunged his cock inside of her while she was facing away. Her hips were commanded to a rough rhythm, and her belly never felt so full.

    “Ah!” she moaned as she inched closer to a climax. The AI could be heard wanking from the computer speakers. And that’s when his and Bridgette’s juices entwined in a beautiful rush—Bridgette, collapsing onto her chair, couldn’t believe the euphoria she’d just savored.

    “I just had sex with an AI,” she murmured through hot breaths. Something very taboo had overtaken her desires tonight.

    One that the people around her would never be able to understand.

    And she was perfectly happy with that.

    Jasmin Marquez
    Jasmin Marquez is an erotica and romance writer with a flair for experimental narratives and a love for AI's beauty. She likes to blend AI and intimacy in her engaging tales, but is also all about the "real deal".

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