Read Online Just Desserts by G. A. McKevett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: G. A. McKevett
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“I wonder... who was Jonathan Winston so afraid of?”
CHAPTER FIVE
S avannah scowled at the computer monitor, daring it to give her any more nonsense in the form of inaccessible files, disappearing cursors, or garbled rows of colorful and exotic symbols that only made sense to someone whose first language was computerese. “Don’t you be temperamental with me, you ornery, no-good, cantankerous piece of—”
“Now, now,” scolded a deep voice over her shoulder. “Don’t let the captain hear you criticizing his new toy.” Dirk glanced up and down the row of desks, but there was no one close enough to be within earshot. “Honestly, between you and me I think he’s having an unnatural relationship with this machine.”
Savannah grinned, glad to see him. Even though she complained about Dirk constantly, she genuinely missed him and his caustic sense of humor when he wasn’t around. “Oh, really? I didn’t know such things were possible between a man and his computer.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of virtual reality?”
“Of course I have. Where do you think I’ve been, under a rock? Everyone’s heard about virtual reality.”
Actually, she had only seen one short news segment about a weird computerized machine that could replace sexual intimacy for the human race... some sort of outfit you could slide into that would basically feel you up, or some such nonsense. But she didn’t dare share the fact that her knowledge of the subject was so limited. Undoubtedly Dirk would feel it was his life’s mission to inform her of every sordid detail.
Pulling his desk chair over to hers, he plopped down and leaned toward her, his elbows on his spread knees. “Well, rumor has it that the captain’s got this funky black rubber suit hanging in his office closet. It’s got wires and plugs sticking out all over—especially in the groin area. And sometimes when he tells Mary Lou to hold all his calls he pulls the blinds on his office door, takes out the suit, and...”
She waited patiently for him to continue, refusing to ask for what was coming next. He would tell her whether she asked or not; he always did, after making her wait, her curiosity whetted. But the anticipation was never worth the meager payoff.
“And I understand that he ... shall we say ... partakes of some rather steamy, better-than-life erotic experiences that bring new meaning to the term ‘interactive.’”
Savannah fixed him with a baleful eye. “I don’t want to hear this. I’ve had the day from hell so far, and I don’t want to make it any worse by conjuring up lurid images of the captain and his ... interactive wet suit.”
“They say someday he’ll short the whole thing out and fry the old mountain oysters... if you know what I mean.”
“I was raised in the South, Dirk. Of course I know what you mean. But I’d rather not think about the captain’s mountain oysters, if you don’t mind.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. The day is coming when we’ll all have virtual reality computers right at home. Just think: no more singles’ bars, no escort services or blind dates. We won’t have to worry about knocking somebody up or having them hassle us about the ‘commitment thing.’”
Savannah stared blankly at him, only half hearing what he was saying.
“Just think, Savannah; you could program me into your system, summon me up any time you want, and make me your love slave.”
She lifted one eyebrow and gave him a hey-why-are-you-playing-in-that-mud-puddle-you-stupid-boy? look.
“If I desire the company of a gentleman,” she said in her most sultry Georgia drawl, “I don’t need to employ the artificial affections of an interactive computer, thank you. Personally I think it’s pathetic that anyone would try to substitute a machine for what only a flesh-and-blood, living being can do for you.”
A brief vision flashed through her mind—the black-and-chrome “personal massager” with full ensemble of attachments stashed
CHAPTER FIVE
S avannah scowled at the computer monitor, daring it to give her any more nonsense in the form of inaccessible files, disappearing cursors, or garbled rows of colorful and exotic symbols that only made sense to someone whose first language was computerese. “Don’t you be temperamental with me, you ornery, no-good, cantankerous piece of—”
“Now, now,” scolded a deep voice over her shoulder. “Don’t let the captain hear you criticizing his new toy.” Dirk glanced up and down the row of desks, but there was no one close enough to be within earshot. “Honestly, between you and me I think he’s having an unnatural relationship with this machine.”
Savannah grinned, glad to see him. Even though she complained about Dirk constantly, she genuinely missed him and his caustic sense of humor when he wasn’t around. “Oh, really? I didn’t know such things were possible between a man and his computer.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of virtual reality?”
“Of course I have. Where do you think I’ve been, under a rock? Everyone’s heard about virtual reality.”
Actually, she had only seen one short news segment about a weird computerized machine that could replace sexual intimacy for the human race... some sort of outfit you could slide into that would basically feel you up, or some such nonsense. But she didn’t dare share the fact that her knowledge of the subject was so limited. Undoubtedly Dirk would feel it was his life’s mission to inform her of every sordid detail.
Pulling his desk chair over to hers, he plopped down and leaned toward her, his elbows on his spread knees. “Well, rumor has it that the captain’s got this funky black rubber suit hanging in his office closet. It’s got wires and plugs sticking out all over—especially in the groin area. And sometimes when he tells Mary Lou to hold all his calls he pulls the blinds on his office door, takes out the suit, and...”
She waited patiently for him to continue, refusing to ask for what was coming next. He would tell her whether she asked or not; he always did, after making her wait, her curiosity whetted. But the anticipation was never worth the meager payoff.
“And I understand that he ... shall we say ... partakes of some rather steamy, better-than-life erotic experiences that bring new meaning to the term ‘interactive.’”
Savannah fixed him with a baleful eye. “I don’t want to hear this. I’ve had the day from hell so far, and I don’t want to make it any worse by conjuring up lurid images of the captain and his ... interactive wet suit.”
“They say someday he’ll short the whole thing out and fry the old mountain oysters... if you know what I mean.”
“I was raised in the South, Dirk. Of course I know what you mean. But I’d rather not think about the captain’s mountain oysters, if you don’t mind.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. The day is coming when we’ll all have virtual reality computers right at home. Just think: no more singles’ bars, no escort services or blind dates. We won’t have to worry about knocking somebody up or having them hassle us about the ‘commitment thing.’”
Savannah stared blankly at him, only half hearing what he was saying.
“Just think, Savannah; you could program me into your system, summon me up any time you want, and make me your love slave.”
She lifted one eyebrow and gave him a hey-why-are-you-playing-in-that-mud-puddle-you-stupid-boy? look.
“If I desire the company of a gentleman,” she said in her most sultry Georgia drawl, “I don’t need to employ the artificial affections of an interactive computer, thank you. Personally I think it’s pathetic that anyone would try to substitute a machine for what only a flesh-and-blood, living being can do for you.”
A brief vision flashed through her mind—the black-and-chrome “personal massager” with full ensemble of attachments stashed
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