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him, the way she tended to flick it absently from one
shoulder or the other. The breasts were good too. Obviously full and firm. And
when she perched on the corner of his desk, his Supervisor checking on progress,
the urge to reach out and caress her shapely upper leg had been almost
irresistible. More than once he had consciously stopped his trembling fingers
from sliding up the muscular thigh and under the hem of her short skirt.
He had been startled yet excited when she asked him out,
even more so as they had got on so well. He liked her laugh---the soft chuckle
which seemed to emanate from deep in her throat---and he went to considerable
lengths to make her do so whenever possible. He also relished the twinkle in her
blue eyes. There was no doubt about what she wanted. Nor of his own desires. All
of which made sex inevitable. Probably.
But...
Sighing, he reached out for the bedside control panel and
pressed the icon for Display Mode. The time appeared on the wall-screen,
"23:12," as did the date, "12/05/2058." He jabbed the icon again, erasing the
time and date, and covered his face in his hands. She would have him arrested,
of course. They would come between oh-200 and oh-400. They would not want
publicity. Not yet. At least he would not have over-long to wait.
Not that he was worried so much about the punishment. That
was set in both law and precedent, had been ever since the legislation was
passed in the second decade of the new millennium: the combination of medical
technology and female parliamentarians' concerns regarding residual male
aggressiveness deciding the issue once and for all. No, the procedure was
simple, and apparently painless---and a year or two of servitude for failing to
Report The Aberration was only to be expected. It was the trial he feared.
The millions of wall-screens tuned in to every word and
nuance. The verdict inescapable in any event.
And she would report him. Despite the fact she had seemed
to enjoy the experience, there was no question of her keeping his long-held
secret. Even had the legislation not meant her ruin as well, the expression on
her face in that instant had spelt his doom...
"But..." she had swallowed, struggling to clear the lump
from her throat, "but you have... I mean..." she had broken off, at once both
horrified and fascinated, unsure what to do or say next.
"Yes." His voice had been a tremulous whisper, his flesh
crimson. "Now you see why... well... Umh..." he too had broken off in
mid-sentence, his hands flapping at his side in a helpless shrug.
"But. Jesus!" She had run her hand through her blonde hair.
He had flapped his hands again, uncertain what to do with
them. Whether or not to cover himself, perhaps?---no matter how redundant the
gesture. |
