Paul’s suggestion that he and Monica combine their creative talents had made her laugh more than she had in a long time.
“I’m sure rude sci-fi isn’t new, but it does sound like it could be a giggle,” Monica said, thinking the casual conversation she had started with a stranger waiting for a bus had to be one of the more random ones she had enjoyed.
Monica had begun a few days off work and intended to spend them relaxing with a recently bought book. Like Paul, Monica’s writing was an escapist hobby and nothing more, but the idea of collaborating to create a futuristic erotic story sounded amusing to both would-be authors.
“There’s not much erotic content in my usual reading, or in my life either, if I’m honest, but I’m looking forward to the challenge,” Monica said with barely disguised impatience.
Within an hour of deciding to undertake their fun task, Monica and Paul had sat down on Monica’s sofa. They agreed that their characters had rented a time machine from a bloke in a pub and had been transported to their current location, one hundred years in the future.
“The new kebab shop on the corner publicising its centenary with a ‘bogof’ was the giveaway, wasn’t it?” Monica giggled.
Further brainstorming led Monica and Paul to check out the local fuckpod and marvel at the scenarios and extra virtual guests they could order from the touchscreen inside their well-maintained capsule.
“I’m sure telling our comms bracelets that all we needed was some tingly lemon lube and two Diet Cokes meant they knew we’d come from another age, but the delivery hologram was awfully polite about it all, wasn’t he?” Paul laughed.
“I think the old-fashioned pleasure of being kissed wherever I’d most like to be was a triumph of a bygone era,” Monica replied, slipping off her blouse and bra to confirm she was eager to make the escapist fun more than a fantasy.
“Don’t come knocking when this pod’s rocking,” Paul announced as his lips fell on Monica’s impatient nipples, and she hitched her skirt up to her waist.
“I guess I’ll have to narrate while you’re tantalising titties,” Monica gasped, taking Paul’s hand and slipping it into her knickers with a roar of laughter.
As Monica enjoyed the combination of Paul’s lips and touch exciting her, she explained dreamily that fuckpod rules meant a reminder rang out to use the provided products to ensure the facility was left as users would wish to find it.
“I’ve got exactly what we need to make sure we follow the rules inside a tube in my trouser pocket, if you want to spray the contents when you’re ready. To be fair, though, I’ve never heard it called cleaning fluid before,” Paul laughed.
Monica responded with giggles, though she wanted Paul to continue what he was doing for a while, until she felt it was time to raid the domestic supplies cupboard.
Once Paul’s kisses had returned to her excited nipples and his touch to her throbbing swamp, Monica explained that the ‘erotic overload’ warnings were screaming and flashing inside the pod. They were doing so inside her head, too.
“You might be using my tits as a mute button, but I’ll be shouting the score very loudly soon,” Monica laughed as Paul’s lips tugged and his touch slid rapidly and deeply into her.
Monica giggled and moaned her way through a beautifully escalating arousal, and the beat of Paul’s excited cock thumped temptingly against her body. She felt her climax approaching rapidly and realised the time had come to set the final scene.
“I hear footsteps! It must be the pod inspectors. I need to spray that Easyclean right now, or we’ll get a stiff telling-off!” Monica gasped, her body aching for erotic release.
Monica eased herself into position on the sofa and freed Paul’s cock with a giggle. As she plunged the fingers of one hand inside her body, she pulled purposefully on Paul with the other, his sounds of pleasure reminding him he needed to take over the task of explaining everything.
“If we make too much noise, we’ll get fined, but it will scare the inspectors off. Let’s go for it,” Paul suggested, though Monica had no intention of doing anything else.
Monica’s work soon had Paul twitching with arousal, and she had taken her own body to the brink. Her mind was filled with the joy of shared goals and the thrill of erotic anticipation. It was an explosive cocktail delivered by a touch scream, rather than a touchscreen.
Monica’s intense climax took centre stage, as she felt Paul’s orgasm rack up a cleaning bill over her welcoming breasts. The laughter that rang out was as old-school as imaginable, though neither of those engrossed in the fun gave a damn.
The futuristic and comical backdrop of the encounter ensured that Monica and Paul had a liberating experience. Consequently, they chuckled their way through a frantic, chaotic shared climax that scored as highly on the comedy-content counter as on the noisy-niceness scoreboard.
Monica and Paul teased everything they could out of each other’s bodies, accompanied by the sound of laughter and giggles. Once normality had returned, they wrote out notices for cleaning and noise violations on scraps of paper.
In keeping with the theme of the future, Monica explained that she felt the escapade would make an interesting anecdote for the next evening she spent swapping stories with her girly mates.
“I think my days as the quiet one in the corner may be over,” she confessed.
“I can vouch for that,” Paul replied, ensuring shared laughter rang out once more.
When Paul raised the question of whether the pair should create additional chapters for their collaborative story, it was left to Monica to have the final word.
“For the love of pod, I hope so,” she said with a smile.
