Read Online Alternative Dimension by Bill Kirton - Free Book Online

same appetites and took every opportunity to indulge and satisfy them. He wasn’t into all the Gorean stuff but he liked wandering around their towns and villages because there were so many beautiful slaves, kneeling around naked, some of them with profiles saying he could do more or less do what he liked with them, as long as he checked first with their master. And there were the clubs, the naked beaches, the porn enclosures. And some of the women were worse than men. They’d actually asked him if he wanted a fuck. His reply never varied. ‘Do bears shit?’ he said. (He knew that there was an expression something like that which was a cool way of saying yes.)
    All of which meant that he racked up a very impressive total of fucks. Each night, he’d come home from work, phone for a pizza or bang something in the microwave, and settle down for some serious sex. He had so many women that, in the end, he’d created a special folder with sub-folders for the various categories. The main one was called ‘FUCKS’. When he double clicked on it, as well as the more conventional ‘BLONDES, BRUNETTES, REDHEADS, BALD,  there were AMPUTEES, CONTORTIONISTS, FAIRIES, LESBIANS, MERMAIDS, NURSES, VAMPIRES and ZOMBIES.
    Under each sub-heading except one, the names were in double figures. The only exception was LESBIANS, which contained one hundred and thirty-seven. Needless to say, this did not strike Jeb as anomalous. (Not that he knew the word, anyway.)
    An extract from his conversation folder gives a flavour of the nature of these exchanges. One night, after three Asians, a Bald Athlete, and thirteen Lesbians, he wandered into one of his favourite spots – a store which sold action hooks. Near one of the corners, he saw a mermaid looking at a pair of hooks called ‘Standing Room Only’. He went up to her and this is the conversation that followed:
    JEB: Wanna try them?
    MERMAID: What?
    JEB: The hooks. Wanna fuck?
    MERMAID: No.
    JEB: Why not?
    MERMAID: Well, the name of them.
    JEB: So?
    MERMAID: I’ve got no legs.
    JEB: What d’you need legs for? We’ll be lying down.
    MERMAID: OK.
    As you can see, romance was a foreign country for Jeb. Occasionally, a woman would try to intensify the experience by describing in relatively poetic terms the various anatomical changes she was feeling in herself or seeing on him, but Jeb’s vocabulary was limited to a couple of synonyms for ‘fuck’ and he’d just mute her until they’d finished.
    Then, on the beach a few metres along from Jason and Shylle, he met Calira.
    Calira had achieved the impossible. In a virtual world full of beautiful, sexy women with flawless complexions, lovely faces and perfect figures, she surpassed everyone. She’d found a hair colour that carried tints of both spring and autumn, highlighted by the gold of a sunset. Her dark, dark eyes were flecked with silver, her half-parted lips shone plum-red and full, and the curves and proportions of her breasts, stomach, hips and thighs had rhythms and a perfection that were indescribable. Jeb saw her lying on the beach, her skin like pale chocolate against a dazzling white towel. For a while, he just looked, because even he knew that he would have to produce something special to get her attention and ‘Wanna fuck?’ was not the answer. But that, with variations, was all he had and, if he didn’t move soon, some smart-assed guy would come along and start chatting with her.
    He sat down, hesitated a while, then said, ‘Nice day’.
    Calira looked at him and smiled.
    ‘Yes,’ she said.
    Jeb nodded and looked out to sea. So far, so good.
    ‘Hot,’ he said.
    ‘Yes, it is.’
    ‘No, not the weather. I meant you.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ said Calira.
    ‘You’re hot,’ said Jeb.
    ‘Yes,’ said Calira. ‘It’s the sun.’
    ‘No. Hot – like sexy.’
    ‘Ah, I see. You mean I look suitable for carnal congress.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Others have said the same thing to me. Not in quite the same way, but in