Her Very Special Robot Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

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  Her Very Special Robot

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Her Very Special Robot Copyright © 2009 Ann Jacobs

  Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book Publication August 2009

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Her Very Special Robot

  Ann Jacobs

  Chapter One

  What a gorgeous view! The lights of Jackson Hole’s bustling, exclusive shopping district beckoned from one direction, while in the other, snow-capped mountains lured guests out onto the powdery slopes.

  Allie Webster curled up in a corner of the brown leather sofa in her suite at the Chateau of a Thousand Pleasures and stared out the picture window at the ski lift inching up the side of a snow-covered mountain. Nice place, this resort Trace had suggested when she’d told him she needed to get away. And perfect for her Christmastime getaway, so she might escape sad memories and recriminations about what might have been.

  This time last year, Trace had helped keep her from going insane while Jack fought for his life in an LA hospital. When he’d lost the battle on Christmas Eve, his best friend had let her cry on his strong, heavily muscled shoulders. Now he was giving up his Christmas with his mom back in Iowa so he could keep her company here, away from the memories she wasn’t quite ready to confront.

  Or maybe she was. It wasn’t as though she didn’t miss Jack, because she did. She still felt the warmth of his smile, remembered everyday events they’d shared. But she’d practically forgotten how it felt when he rammed his big, hard cock in her cunt. Lately in her restless dreams, her fantasy lover had the face of Jack’s best friend, the one who’d always been there for her, who’d be meeting her here in a few hours.

  Trace. Hell, she’d been so horny she’d have jumped him when he came to her place last week to deliver the itinerary for this trip, if he hadn’t stubbornly insisted he didn’t have time to come inside. His rush to get away had seemed weird. For the past six months she’d had the feeling Trace wanted to get in her panties, but he seemed totally uninterested when she came to the door wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. In fact, he hadn’t even taken off his hat and jacket or stepped inside.

  But she was going to have almost a week with Trace after he got here late tonight, and she didn’t intend for the time to go to waste. Meanwhile, Allie had her doubts about the android Trace suggested she order from the boutique downstairs after she’d told him when they’d talked earlier on the phone that she’d like a robot to fuck with. But a helpful clerk assured her the deluxe model she ordered would fuck just like the real thing—look like it, too. She gave a quick once-over to the complimentary basket of sex toys the management had placed on the nightstand, but doubted they or the robot would soothe the ache in her neglected pussy.

  Maybe she’d try again to seduce Trace when he got here. Very tall, dark and mouthwatering with his bulging muscles, silky shoulder-length dark brown hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, he was one hell of a hunk. She’d figured that out just recently, after she’d finally gotten over looking at him as Jack’s best friend. It had been hard, but she’d finally managed to squelch the worry that what had happened to Jack might someday happen to Trace, too.

  She’d die if Trace got hurt or, God forbid, killed doing crazy stunts like jumping off burning buildings and driving cars off the sides of cliffs. And not only because she wanted to sample him in the sack and make those late-night fantasies come true. Allie loved the guy, looked forward to spending easy hours with him, watching football games or just strolling along a deserted beach, watching the tide roll in.

  Mostly, though, she wanted to get fucked. Now. Her pussy was twitching in double time. Maybe she should call downstairs and have them send up that robot.

  Straightening her legs and pulling her velvet robe around her to ward off a sudden chilly breeze, she went back into the bedroom. For a long moment she stared at the door to the adjoining suite Trace had booked for himself. Then she picked up the phone and dialed the resort’s boutique.

  “Why hello, Robin. I’m glad you answered the phone. Please send me up that deluxe robot you were telling me about.” It was strange but nice that Robin and Greg Tobin, the resort owners, seemed to handle almost all direct contact with their guests.

  * * * * *

  Behind the door that connected his and Allie’s suites, movie stuntman Trace Foster tried to ignore his painful hard-on. Waiting to get Greg’s call was hell, even though he’d managed to occupy himself for the past hour, getting undressed and made-up for the most important gig of his life.

  If Allie needed a cock so badly, why couldn’t she have come right out and asked him to take care of her needy little cunt?

  “Take care of Allie,” Jack had asked last year before they’d scraped him off the pavement and hauled his ass to Cedars. Trace had figured his buddy was a goner even then, though Jack had surprised him and lingered in the hospital for three days after botching the job of jumping through glass out a seventh-floor window on the movie set where they’d both been working.

  It hadn’t impressed Allie that he, Trace, had managed the feat without incident the day after Jack’s funeral. And though he’d tried his best, he hadn’t been able to break through the grief that had changed the fun-loving, sexy, former exotic dancer into a withdrawn, shy woman who could have passed for a nun.

  Nothing he’d been able to say or do had persuaded Allie to let go of the past and let him fulfill Jack’s last request. Until she called him three weeks ago and said she had to get away for Christmas, he’d been certain he had no chance at all with the voluptuous brunette he’d fallen hard for the night he and Jack had both met her while she was working at an upscale LA men’s club.

  Trace still felt her need, even though she’d spoken the words over a phone when they’d been miles apart. “I need a man. No I don’t. I need a fucking robot. Get that? A robot that fucks. God, Trace, I’m so horny I could die, but I don’t ever want to love again. It hurts so much when you lose the one you love.”

  That had gotten him to thinking. Of course, the role he was playing in a series of made-for-adult channel TV movies had given him the notion that he might be able to stand in for a machine. His pal, Greg Tobin, had helped with the logistics, and here he was, waiting for that call from downstairs to become Allie’s fucking robot.

  Well hell, he could do it. He wasn’t a stuntman for nothing. The people he was working for now even hinted they thought he might be able to act as well as leap off buildi
ngs without killing himself. Putting the final touches on the silver goop that Mabel from the makeup department had let him have this morning after shaving the stubble off his head and body, he stared at himself in the mirror.

  Distinctly feminine moans reverberated through the connecting doorway. Trace hoped to hell she was enjoying the basket of goodies he’d sneaked onto her nightstand before she got here an hour earlier, because it was damn near killing him to listen to her coming and not chase in there and get in on the fun.

  He could wait, though. And she’d like him even better than that giant gel dildo he’d bought to prime her cunt. After he had her coming every way but loose, he’d ditch his disguise and show her he was a hell of a lot more than just her foolhardy late husband’s former stunt partner and a good shoulder to cry on.

  He’d fuck her and suck her, explore every satiny inch of the body that had figured in his wet dreams for longer than he’d admit to. And he’d do it without letting her know her lover used to be Jack’s best friend, or reminding her he made his living doing the same sort of daredevil stunts as the one that had killed Jack. Trace would make her come so hard, she’d never let him go.

  The moans stopped, and soon afterward his phone rang.

  “She wants her robot,” Greg said, laughing his ass off after he finished conveying the message Trace had been waiting for. Damn it, he should never have let his friend in to get a look at him with no hair or eyebrows, or with his bald dome and face already coated with the shiny metallic makeup that now had dried to a dull silver glow.

  Finally!

  Trace dropped his boxers, shaking his head at the sight of the piercings and the flashy jewelry he’d let them put in his cock and balls for his continuing part in the series about androids gone berserk. Barbells in multicolored jewel tones decorated his new dydoes, frenum ladder and scrotal piercings, and a thick, shiny gold ring dangled from the Prince Albert he’d stretched to take the heavy jewelry. It amused him that the ring was a perfect match for the slightly smaller ones they’d put through his nipples, rings that reminded him of women’s hoop earrings. In the past few months Trace had almost gotten used to looking at himself completely hairless from head to toe.

  Fuck, I look more like a robot than a robot with this silver stuff glistening over every square inch of me. He grinned at his reflection while he popped in red contact lenses, inserted an unobtrusive barbell through the piercing in his tongue and rubbed a final coat of cinnamon-flavored oil into his cock and balls so they’d glow.

  Allie hadn’t seen him since his temporary transformation, except for that one night last week when he’d dropped off her holiday itinerary. He’d had the good sense then to stay outside and away from her front porch light, keeping his stocking cap down low over his head and ears. It had been damn difficult, because he’d felt her need and smelled that distinctive feminine musk. She’d been so desperately aroused that he was certain she’d have fucked him right there in the doorway if he’d indicated the slightest willingness to take her up on her invitation.

  But he’d already made his plans, and he hadn’t been about to screw with them for one night’s satisfaction. No, he wanted Allie for a lifetime. And he intended to show her how far he was ready to go to earn her love, how he’d put her first even if it meant he’d have to pass on stunt jobs that put him too much at risk.

  Shit, he’d tell her why he’d happened to become an ersatz android in the first place, so he could earn more than stuntman pay while keeping his ass out of mortal danger.

  Trace grinned at his reflection again and picked up a heavy gold and silver chain studded with red-and-green crystals. Threading it through one of his nipple rings first, he passed it through the other nipple ring and his PA and fastened the clasp. With the red eyes, the chain and the stones in his ladder piercings winking in the reflected light, he thought he made a fitting holiday gift.

  A present that was about to get as much pleasure as it was going to give. Trace’s cock swelled to full attention, and his heart beat in double-time as he opened the door. Looking both ways down the hallway first to make sure the coast was clear, he stepped to Allie’s door. He rapped on the door, two hard knocks. “Room service, Mrs. Webster,” he said when she started to pull the door open, his voice as close to a robot’s as he could make it.

  She gawked. There was no other word for it. But then her lips curled upward in a smile and her pink tongue darted out of her mouth. “Come on inside, honey. You look like just what the doctor ordered.”

  Omigod! Allie gawked at her robot. At least she guessed that was what he was. The shimmering silver android was way over six feet tall and completely hairless. His bulging muscles glistened and rippled in the twinkling lights from an outdoor Christmas tree framed in her window. A thick jeweled chain joined the gold rings in his small, dark nipples with an even thicker one that pierced his monster cock.

  Her mouth watered. She hadn’t seen a cock that big since a famous porn star had played show and tell with his in the club one night, years ago. But this glistening organ looked even bigger. Thicker and longer and curved gently upward toward washboard abs, despite the weight of the chain someone had threaded through his Prince Albert. A neat row of jewel-toned barbells ringed the head of his penis in dydoe piercings, and another row marched down his glittering, glowing shaft and scrotum.

  What would all that metal feel like in her cunt? Not to mention his huge, glistening penis?

  “How would you like to fuck a robot?” he asked Allie in a deep, melodic voice that didn’t reveal one bit of emotion. It was as though he didn’t care whether she wanted to fuck with him or not. Get real, Allie. He’s a fucking robot, not a man. But he grinned, and his gleaming scarlet gaze dropped to his crotch, as though he were inviting her to check out the equipment.

  She followed his gaze and watched his jeweled silver cock twitching with what seemed a distinctly un-robotlike interest. “Send my compliments to Robin. She must have picked me out the super-deluxe model.”

  “I aim to please.” When he moved closer to the window, the multicolored tree lights reflected off the silver planes and valleys of his muscular torso. Could he possibly feel as real—as alive—as he looked? Her pussy twitched with greedy anticipation.

  “Maybe a robot like you is the way to go. We’re not going to fall madly in love, but then you’re not likely to die on me, either.” Allie laughed when she pictured the android’s batteries running down from the workout she intended to give him. “If you malfunction, I can call Robin at the boutique downstairs and have her send up a replacement.”

  Her sex toy smiled even wider. “I don’t malfunction. I promise.” He reached down, laid a hand on the chain that connected the rings in his nipples with his cock. “Come on, taste me.”

  She wanted to. Her mouth was watering to taste a real cock. She itched to feel the rasp of real five o’clock shadow against the tender skin of her boobs. It had been a year. Too long since she’d had a real man caressing every inch of her, fucking her cunt and her mouth and her ass the way Jack used to do.

  But Jack was gone. For now this mouthwatering robot would have to do.

  The velvet material stroked Allie’s body as her robe slithered to the floor. Her nipples got hard when she exposed them to the chilly air, but all she felt inside was white-hot heat. Hell, she was only twenty-eight years old, too young to crawl into the grave just because she’d lost the love of her life.

  Reaching out, she ran a finger along the robot’s huge cock. Its plum-shaped, circumcised head would have looked like Jack’s—only bigger—if it had been flesh-colored instead of silver, and bare instead of studded with the thick gold ring in his Prince Albert and the red and green balls that winked up at her from his dydoe piercings.

  The robot’s cock even felt hot to her touch, and his bright-silver scrotum seemed to draw up and tighten at her touch, as though he were alive. His silver skin felt like oiled velvet, except for more small, smooth metal balls at the end of barbells that studded
his shaft at half-inch intervals and continued all the way down the center of his big ball sac.

  He might be a robot, but damned if his equipment didn’t feel pretty fucking real. She could hardly wait to find out how it would feel for the smooth metal jewelry to press against the sensitive flesh of her cunt when he fucked her. A dribble of hot, wet lubrication ran down her leg. “Do you have a name?”

  “I will be whoever you want me to be, mistress,” he said, stepping closer and laying large, calloused hands on her shoulders. “May I give you pleasure?”

  She thought she saw fire in those intense red eyes. And she knew she saw dark, thick eyelashes that looked vaguely incongruous on the robot’s otherwise hairless head. “I will name you later. Now I want you to eat me.” Not willing to wait, Allie lay back on the bed and spread her legs.

  When her robot knelt and started to lower his gleaming head to her swollen sex, she changed her mind. “Not like this. I want to taste you, too.”

  Obediently, he switched positions. His pulsating cock nudged her lips, and she took the tip of it in her mouth. God, but he tasted good, like cinnamon and something else—essence of clean, aroused male. She’d almost say he was…

  But what he was doing to her with his mouth robbed her of the ability to do anything but feel. Somebody must have programmed him well on oral, because he had her ready to come in moments. In methodical rotation, he flicked her clit, sucked it, thrust his long, satiny pierced tongue into her pussy, swept it over her slit and circled her anus as though he wouldn’t mind tasting her there, too.

  “Oh God. Don’t stop.” Allie’s pussy clenched, her clit tingled and something exploded deep in her belly. She was coming. Coming hard, the way she hadn’t come since the last time Jack had fucked her. It felt good. Great.

  She swirled her tongue around the head of his massive, chained penis one more time before pushing him away. “I want you to put this big, beautiful cock in my pussy and fuck me hard.” She gasped for breath as the last waves of ecstasy rolled through her body.