Pixel Perfect

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Mini (Approx. 900)

The projection shimmered for a moment before steadying. The woman tossed her hair, black now that the blue pixels had aligned.

“You’re late.”

Craig made an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry, traffic was awful.” The words were routine, the excuse the same every time no matter how long it took him to get home.

Lauren stepped forward and bent over him, her face mere inches from his, her eyes examining him as if she could read straight through him. Which, Craig privately admitted, she might be able to do. He leaned forward and put his lips on hers, the sensation so very real feeling that he felt his cock react automatically to her soft lips. Her hair brushed forward and caressed his cheeks as she leaned into him, mouth opening to allow him access.

He massaged her tongue roughly, hands reaching out to run down her body. She’d worn pale green underwear, the strap peeking from the side of her jeans. She did that on purpose. She always did that on purpose, and Craig knew better than to mention it or else it’d disappear under the denim.

Hooking his fingers into one of her belt loops, Craig pulled her closer. Just as he’d done the night before. She melted into him, letting his tongue leave hers and trace down her neck, over her blouse. No bra, she’d always arrived home before him. Relaxed. So his mouth took her nipple, tasting her through the softness of the blouse.

The feeling was familiar. The taste even more so.

Craig clutched at her, hands writhing through her dark hair, digging into her shoulder, her back. Feeling the curve above her butt.

Lauren pulled away, grinning at his protest. “Now, dear. You can’t get too horribly worked up. We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“I don’t want dinner.” He’s said that before too. It always worked.

“Oh?” she asked, an eyebrow arched coyly. “Then I don’t have to cook, do I?”

“Since when do you cook?” he mouthed, the words caught in his throat and no sound came out.

She didn’t seem to notice, still reacting as if he’d been loud enough to hear. She shoved him playfully and he smiled, the wistful quality of it not registering with Lauren.

“Alright,” she said, “As long as you call for delivery.”

“I will,” he agreed.

“Promise?”

He shrugged.

“That’s not good enough.” She made to move off him and he grabbed at her, pulling her back against his pants. He rubbed her ass against his cock. She laughed as if he’d whispered ‘promise’ in her ear. Then she slipped her hand between his legs, pinching him lightly.

They kissed again, this time slower as Lauren worked her way into his pants. Her touch was hot, gentle as she massaged his length with her thumb. Craig pulled up her blouse and took her nipple into his mouth again, sucking harder now he was free of the fabric.

Lauren moaned, the soft sound vibrating in the back of her throat. Her hand relaxed its grip on him as he moved to her opposite nipple, leaving a wet track between her breasts. Then she let out a sigh and slid out of his lap, her arms going about his middle. Where she touched, his skin felt on fire, so sensitive he shivered as her fingers traced back towards his penis and wrapped around his length.

Her tongue flicked out, her motions sure.

She’d never been tentative, not even when they’d first met. Always firm, knowing what she liked, knowing what he liked. It’d attracted him to her. It’d kept him working with her on their relationship, even when cities apart, pixels that only felt real as their only communication. It’d been enough to keep them happy and satisfied.

She licked through the top of his cock. So warm, making him shiver. The first time he’d squeezed his eyes shut. Now he watched every second, savoring her expression, the miniature movements in her body that were so Lauren.

Knowing her, knowing what she’d do, Craig still gasped when she took him into her. Her mouth a depth of welcoming warmth. Her tongue her most skilled muscle, working him over. He grabbed at her hair in desperation, twining his fingers into her locks as if this time…this time would be different.

Then her mouth froze. Her body stiffened and she lifted her head, eyes turned to look at something that wasn’t there. Something that only existed where she lived.

Static flowed over her as if a wave had smacked the connection, altered the transmission data. Her skin flickered from lovely flesh tone to a pale blue. A pale checkered blue of billions of pixels that made her real only in the program linked to his mind.

Craig tightened his grip upon her dark hair as she turned back to him. Her mouth moved. His name, he was sure of it. Then the recording fuzzed and died, blessedly not ever letting him see her next moments. An error message blinged in the bottom left hand corner of his eye, telling him the data had been corrupted and nothing further could be read. He dismissed it and dropped his hands, the feel of her strands gone as completely as she was.

Then he stumbled into the bathroom, striping the rest of his clothes off his body as he pulled himself into the shower. Slowly he jerked on his still hard cock, remembering Lauren’s last touch, remembering how good they’d always been together. The touch of her breasts, always so soft, her fingers, so steady and teasing, her mouth, so warm. Her eyes…so loving.

He punched the slick wall as he came, Lauren still heavy in his mind and his heart.

The tears didn’t come this time, and for that, he was grateful.

The End

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