Sophie | Stories Next Podcasts and erotic stories

Selene, the cybersex

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(or how I met Selene, cybersex bot)

Now I sleep.
But if I try to close my eyes, the image of her panties dropped to her ankles comes back to my mind.
But can it be? No, you can't.
This obsession takes my sleep away. I will try not to fix her ankles, but I will have to go back to Marina, the psychotherapist, to try to find peace.
Meanwhile, I turn over in bed, unable to sleep.

I understand, there is nothing to be done. I reach out and take the smartphone from the bedside table.
I turn it on, and the light from the screen breaks the darkness of my bedroom.
I get up on my back and lean on the pillow while I look at my mail. Maybe Marina wrote to me to ask me again if I was looking at her or following transgressive instincts.
No, just advertising.
Everyone gets the advertisements they deserve, I get those from cameras, shooting sets, pseudo-intellectual online magazines and… sex toys… Sex toys? Here, good. Poke your nose into porn sites and see what you find in email later ...
Okay, I throw it in the trash.

No, wait, there is a girl at the bottom of the ad who with a lost look handling a thing between her half-closed legs.
My attention is captured by the name Selene, written next to it. And his name? I read.
No, that's not his name.
It is that of the "coach" who, from the app, should guide you on the phone to use the thing.
"Send me a text message by writing"Selene yes and I'll call you back "

Incredible what they invent to be able to sell.


However.
But what, Sophie?
No, I say. Why not?
Sophie, what do you want to do? Send a sms? It's three in the morning, who do you want to be there?
Shut up.
Then do what you want. But then…
Shut up.
I'll shut up.

I copy and paste the number, I write the two magic words. Enter.
Appearance.
Here you see? Gullible, naive. And silly.
Well, it could have been, though, right?
But it goes.

Tin. Message.
"Can I call you now?"
Holy shit ... what do I do?
Answers.
"Yes" enter.
Silence. Silence. Silence.

Vibration of the phone ... it calls me.


"Ready?"
"Hello disorder?"
"No ... jokes ..."
“Well, better that way. At certain times it cannot be taken for granted. Pleased to meet you, I'm Selene. Can I ask your name? "
Think about it for a moment ... privacy, use of information for commercial purposes ... identity theft ...
“Of course, my name is Sophie, the pleasure is mine. Are you a bot or what the hell are the synthesized vice called today? "
“Aren't you going too fast? Did I ask you if you were touching yourself before you called me?"
As a bot this is strong.

“You're right, sorry, let's start over. My name is Sophie, and shortly before calling you I had thought of touching myself, but then I read the email and here I am. "
I hear a laugh, composed but elegant. Incredible technology.
"Well, we're even," Selene replies.
"What do we want to talk about, Sophie?"
"I don't know, I thought you had something to tell me, maybe about that thing you sell"
"I would say that first you could tell me the reason that convinced you to send the text message"
"Do you want the truth, miss bot?"
"Selene, if you don't mind, but tell me the truth"


I felt alone. And the idea of ​​'someone' calling me in the middle of the night flattered me… this I should have told her. But can this be said to a robot?

"I'm interested in the thing," I replied.
Silence.
A sigh.
“Let's get in touch tomorrow, so I'll give you the details of the 'thing', as you call it. Meanwhile, I wish you good night. I'm glad to have met you, Sophie. "
click.

I can not believe it. He put me down.

An advertising robot put me down! A "Sell like this" vibrating for a potato put me down sighing!
I told you not to text.
Shut up, bitch.
I close the phone, put it on the bedside table.
I adjust the pillow, and sigh. Like Selene.
In fantasy they are truly unsurpassed.
Good night.

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