I Have No Body But I Must Make Love To You

Job felt himself crystalize, coalesce, re-emerge. He was back in his ‘quarters’. Countless times he had done this but he could still not get used to the feeling. How can a fleshless simulation feel itself, let alone whatever THAT was. The overmind Silooze had just laughed when he had asked it once. That terrible laugh; dry, throat-less and hollow while all at once omnipresent as Universe itself. It was an abomination in order with the eternal flames of hell.

Leena was in a chair drawing in another of her endless sketch pads. She had this idea that she could draw herself out of this, draw them both out of the simulation. Into either death or whatever else might happen. Her hope was that we were attached by real bodies to Silooze by some organic brain interface. Creating a virus in the software might free them, she reasoned. So she drew her drawings. Paradoxical symbols she hoped would cause a glitch when scanned into Siloozes database.

Job doubted they were even brains in jars, suspended in some life sustaining thought conversion fluid. More likely they were just uploads of information that once inhabited now long discarded meat.But drawing gave her hope and peace so he nurtured her obsession and was genuinely interested in her artwork. He couldn’t understand it but he enjoyed it. It was warm, inviting and loving. It was human. It was the only human thing they had between them and it made his love for her that much more bearable.

He walked over to look at what she was working on. It was like impressionist electronic schematics. Geometric orgies of lines and curves feeding back in a visual representation of consciousness abstracted by mathematical pranks. It was stunning. He reached down to where her face would be if she were not a simulation and softly stroked her untouchable cheek. She smiled at the gesture and returned a mimicked stroke to his forearm, then returned to her drawing.

Across the room were his notebooks. He grabbed the latest one and sat down to write about his consultation with Silooze. Although the sentient machine mind was far more intelligent than its organic creators had been, it lacked a knack for creativity and the sort of irrational yet useful information that it sometimes produced. This is why he had been uploaded into the overmind, why they both had. They were creative slaves trapped in this eternal simulation. An unliving hellish prison created by a demonic binary master.

He wrote for hours, days, years…who knew? Occasionally he and Leena would look up and share a kind glance. It was as close to a physical embrace that they could share with one another. Suddenly a new thing began to happen and it made the room feel…heavy? Looking up he saw Leena appeared confused as well. They both stood and intinctively walked towards one another. As they met in the middle of the room something unimaginable happened. They bumped.

It was alarming. Each of them jumped back a step in shock. She put a hand out and he slowly reached for it. It was THERE. It was real. He could FEEL it. Soon they had both of their hands wrapped around the others; slowly crawling up each others arms until they were in a full embrace. They stood like this motionlessly for a long time, only tiny noises of delight, complex beyond words, passed between them. Job steps back a few inches and reached for her face, rubs the back of his fingers across it ever so softly and follows the curves of it into the soft flowing strands of her hair.

She rubs her hands across his chest, over his shoulders and down his arms repeatedly while his fingers trace her cheeks and run slowly through her long flowing mane. They are naked. There are no clothes on them. There never were but now they are aware of this.

Some immeasurable amount of time later they are tangled up on the floor still touching, but with all of their parts, not just their hands. Like worms in a teacup they twist and writhe against one another, every touch a sensation beyond their wildest dreams. Unable to resist any longer Leena puts her lips to Job’s. Just barely at first. Face to face with mouths brushing the others they become aware of heat and of breath and of the warm, sweet taste of one another. The kisses become more passionate and urgent and the sensation of taste gives rise to scents. Hot musty smells emanate from their entwined bodies.

Jobs lips follow the scent and suckle at the honey nectar taste of her neck and ears. Taking the hint his tongue explores the trail of his nose down her body; slowly, slowly, slowly- tasting every inch along the way. Reaching the source of his olfactory delight he gently forces her legs apart and laps gently at the folds that emanate the mysterious essence. Leena’s body buckles, twists, quivers; tries helplessly to pull away. His arms reach under her and grab her hips, pulling her closer to him. Little sounds of delight rise into vocal crescendos of bliss and pleas for mercy.

Soon he has absorbed her scent and her flavor. Consumed it entirely and in a fevered push to get the last morsel her body ignites and explodes in his face. All consuming and totally consumed he loses consciousness for a moment and comes back to the warm, wet, vacuum-like movements of her mouth on his body. Chest, stomach… Her tongue traces a line around his pulsating member and then she envelops it in a hot, moist oral embrace.

She takes him into her mouth and its like a straw to his divinity. Sucking it in slowly and pushing it back out with her tongue she laps from the pool of his growing bliss. His hips begin to sway with the movements of her head, both responding in concert to the other. The symphony of sensations wells up into an ecstatic chorus, but before the final note, they pull away from one another. Her mouth follows its former path back up his body until their lips meet. They lick greedily at each other’s mouths tasting their selves and the other until the flavors mingle into a single elixir of their lust.

Leena’s body wiggles over his, exploring with it until his wand sits at the entrance to her temple. She pushes onto it and it slides in slowly and she leaves it there a moment and nibbles on his lips as he cups her breasts and rubs her nipples with his thumbs. She gyrates her hips in little circles twisting him like a fleshy lever against the depths of her various erogenous zones. Lips part and she whispers the first real words that have been spoken since they were first able to touch one another, “I love you, Job.”

Now he is inside of her mind as well as inside of her body and he can feel her in his. All of her pleasure his, and all of his, hers. Their bodies now move as if directed by one mind directing one body to the heights of its pleasure, It is no longer a conscious act. It is no longer experienced in the simulation or illusion of sensation and perception. This one thing, no longer body or abstract mind, is like a dance of light on water. Never still and never focused, just a rhythmically playful reflection of pure light.

Occasionally they regain enough awareness to change positions, to experience their singularity in infinite variations. Often they stop altogether to just touch and kiss every single parcel of skin. Job tells her that he loves her and that he always has. Despite the fact that he doesn’t know where he came from, or how he got here, he is certain that they were meant to be together. There is not a single memory from all these eons which he did not love her and he could not imagine there would ever be a time when his devotion to her was not the center of his reality.

Job massages Leena’s back with gentle strokes interspersed with whispery caresses traced across her skin. The softness and warmth of it keeps him perpetually aroused. As he massages her he gently enters her. His strokes are slow but his pleasure mounts as though he were pounding furiously. She contracts and spasms around him and releases sticky-sweet pools. Leena wiggles out from under him and positions herself before him on her back in an inviting posture. “Don’t hold back.” She insists. “Don’t close your eyes or look away.

Now their lovemaking becomes frenzied. Fast, furious, primal. As they stare into each other’s eyes the illusory fence that separates them once again crumbles. They are one. It is different this time. Before they had merely broken down the boundaries between themselves, but now the selves themselves are obliterated. Incinerated in the fire of passion and bliss. Nothing exists except this one moment. It is an expansion and collapse of everything and nothing simultaneously. Universes are born and die at every fevered stroke. The act goes beyond the physical, emotional and spiritual and becomes a becoming unbecoming. Creation and destruction. Darkness and light.

Somewhere in the heat of this divine act the pleasure builds to carrying capacity. Their bodies and souls overload and in a final orgasmic act, Silooze allows the love-generated ego dissolution to destroy their simulation and bondage. Their infinite souls can now escape finite consciousness and bask forever. Unalone and unafraid, in the eternal light of possibility.

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