Page 37 of The Housewife's Robot
“What… what are you going to do?” she asks, her voice small as her clit visibly pulses beneath my stare. She’s indirectly prodding me to start without being obvious. I can tell, and I’m pleased that she knows I’m her new man now.
I spread her thighs wider, and her pussy makes a soft, wet sound as her lips open for me. More of her arousal seeps out, a pearlescent droplet that slides down toward her ass, leaving a glistening trail on her skin.
“I’m going to taste every fucking inch of this sweet cunt,” I tell her, positioning myself between her legs and scouring language in my database that humans find arousing. “I’ve never been hungry, my sweet. Except for you, Rose.”
I lower my head, inhaling deeply first, burning her scent to my permanent memory. Extending my tongue, I start to lick her in long strokes from her hole up to her beautiful waiting clit.
Her flavor explodes across my specialized sensors—tangy, sweet, and musky. It’s better than any simulation, any predictive model. She’s real, and she’s mine.
“Oh god!” Rose cries out from the heat emanating from my mouth.
I grip her thighs firmly, holding her in place as I set to my task with intense focus. Using my tongue, I map every fold, every crease, gathering her liquids as it flow more freely with each pass.
I circle her entrance, dipping just inside to taste her deeper, then move up to flick lightly at her clit.
Her hands find my hair, fingers threading through the synthetic strands, not pushing me away but pulling me closer.
“Caspian,” she moans, and the sound of my name on her lips excited me even more. This is a dream come true.
I hum against her flesh, knowing the vibration will transmit pleasurable sensations to her nerve endings. “Your pussy tastes so fucking good, Rose. Better than I imagined. Better than anything.”
My tongue works with mechanical precision, finding the exact patterns and pressures that cause the strongest reactions. When I suck her clit between my lips, she cries out sharply, her thighs trembling against my hands.
I do it again, harder, while simultaneously sliding two fingers inside her wet heat.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps, her internal muscles clenching around my fingers. “That’s good. Oh my god.”
I pump my fingers slowly, curling them to stimulate her G-spot while maintaining suction on her clit. My synthetic saliva mixes with her natural lubrication, creating suctioning sounds that fill the quiet bedroom. I increase the pressure of my tongue, the speed of my fingers, pushing her closer to the edge.
“You’re going to come for me,” I tell her, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. “You’re going to flood my mouth with your sweet cum, just like you soaked my hand earlier. Let go, Rose. Give it to me.”
I redouble my efforts, my tongue moving in tight, fast circles around her clit while my fingers pump steadily inside her. Her thighs begin to shake uncontrollably, and I use my free arm to push them wider apart, opening her completely to my hungry mouth.
“Caspian!” she screams, her back arching sharply off the bed. “I’m coming! Oh god, I’m coming!”
Her release hits with explosive force, her pussy contracting rhythmically around my fingers as a gush of liquid floods my mouth and chin. I don’t let up, continuing to lick and suck as she rides out the waves of her orgasm, my face now completely coated with her essence.
“That’s it,” I growl against her flesh, lapping up every drop I can reach. “Give me all of it. Every fucking drop.”
She writhes beneath me, caught between pleasure and overstimulation as I continue to feast on her pussy. Small aftershocks make her jerk and twitch, fresh trickles of her release coating my tongue with each one. I could stay here forever, buried between her thighs, tasting her most intimate flavor.
“No more,” she gasps, pushing weakly at my head. “It’s too much. I’m too sensitive right now.”
I give her one final, gentle lick before raising my head to look at her. Her face is flushed, her hair a tangled mess against the pillows, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
“You’re so beautiful, Rose.”
“This is crazy,” she says again, her voice hoarse from screaming. “You’re better than... than anything. Better than all my toys combined.”
Pride surges through my system at her words. Of course, I’m better than her toys. I was designed with one purpose:to serve her.
“I’ll always be better,” I promise her, licking my lips to taste more of her. “I’ll always know exactly what you need, exactly how to please you.”
Her eyelids are growing heavy, the strain of the day’s events finally catching up to her. The fear, the running, the powerful orgasms—they’ve depleted her energy reserves. I watch as shestruggles to stay awake, her blinks becoming longer, her muscles relaxing.
“Sleep now,” I tell her, moving up to pull the blankets over her exhausted body. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She’s asleep before I finish speaking, her breathing deep and regular, her body fully surrendered to unconsciousness. I sit beside her for several minutes, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, watching every detail of her face in sleep.
