# finally together alone the volks are out downtown buying quality garden implements of a synthetic and unlikely anti nature meanwhile back home some polite social interaction passes between two researchers before a palpable rising sense of bigtime pulsing sensuality an ancient flesh vibe each of the scenic participants begins to kiss grope smell and lick all around hot play this is first time swanson has felt like this and it feels both alarming exciting and dangerously open ended as though speeding down an endless purple midnight desert highway to an uncertain tomorrow tongues deep down throats the breathing gets seriously dirty the holo-tv switches off as though in unconscious acknowledgement of its constant staring techno intrusion into a forbidden hyperorganic realm of the humalien dark brown carpets the sofa long and dusty they're now on ir knees between swanson's legs eyes aglow beating that student firmness hot and purple blue about half way through they pop off upstairs and run back down with 'hello what's this oh some oil and a towel' swanson smiles awkwardly as they squeeze a little onto ir pink gentle hands sliding doors behind henry lead out into a little housing estate garden square glass transmitting muffled sounds from outside all swanson can think of is trying to keep ir ears open for ir parent's car returning but ir favorite researcher starts ir massage oh wow that feels real / good henry doesn't even know what regular researcher hotness feels like let alone any of this kink good sfx from ir slippery hand more hot monkey carpets still brown the tv still off they then gently wipe henry off with the towel placing both to one side before slowly licking up down and over staring up at ir new favorite researcher with hard wild eyes timeless orbs a mixture of hippy summers and dirty new york megacity pain as they being to touch moist pink lips up down and around with the exception of post-cyberpunk sci fi or nfr 70's experimental european literature there ain't anything like that henry can't get ir head around it deadpan 'and neither can they' ba-doom tish here alone all week no flashbulbs please omg was that a car in distance no: for this is already the capital 'b' beyond the near-future has been informing swanson in dreams and endless nomadic data wandering and now nothing else exists pumping ancient video flesh swanson now releases in ir wide open mouth beckoning tongue and all over ir pretty face a gloppy torrent of biocosmic / borderline nekrocosmic love-aether issuing forth in hot tight electric arcs near infinite information from the live end of a swollen non local bell curve lights spark behind swanson's eyes they refocus seeing ir love's sweet mask of desire transformed a freshly glazed love donut ir only earthly joy pauses for a second blissfully shocked before luxuriously lapping it up gulping twice getting the primal soup while its hot blinking they then say oh wow what happened there each then stares at other for brief eternity before laughing out loud they then smile wipe ir pretty face and slowly lick ir palm clean the whole house now silent and calm like every other on this forever deserted suburban estate saying nothing they lean in to kiss deeply swanson suddenly tasting ir own liquid midnight oversoul an intensely privacy far outside of ordinary workaday time ancient dust motes dance in slow brownian pleasure through soft sunlit blades thrown against the far suburban wall sudden realization of the truer far more fuzzy nature of warning: memory implantation / leakage in which such a moment wasn't only special intensely emotional but also desperately rushed and frantic another equally bland knee jerk reaction against terminal boredom much like everything else in endland not that it wasn't intensely enjoyable but that a flat good enough is often all one might expect from deep within this dark thin wee drizzling little backwater control island they then pull swanson to floor on top of them pulling up ir lab coat taking off ir lab pants leaving ir earth dance shoes on henry starts to rub up and press against and pretty soon they're up again pushing so soft pushing against pushing on through ooh right there - this feels so unusual both humaliens gasp henry can't decide if this is meant to be enjoyable yet continues to ride out the moment yet soon the old poloneck starts pulling back over the top ow it's never done that before and feels painfully tight so they withdraw - a soft wet pop ir love smiles and rests back on top of the sofa while they kneel on the dusty carpet next to them on final approach to the video real they slowly take ir top off and swanson licks ir collective student body a dying researcher's vision of pink domed revelation so hot and clearly defined realty is pierced and kept it there as though teaching at least two vitally important lessons swanson slowly pushes two fingers in and there's a sweet gasp in the silence of the suburban room if there was any sense all deep endlandian time had stopped it was now because there's only the two of us now in this empty universe no maybe not even that just our true sweet summer love's pleasure ir ecstatic state of raw being amazing to see this beautiful humalien creature get off up close several more deep explorations and suddenly streams of burning golden light suddenly flower from ir front back mouth and top of head nothing else matters because nothing else understands such dangerous sweet organic joy amazed our fingers fit in so deep we slowly take them out and lick them the smell and taste of which one could only describe as hmmm warm like these words were made for this experience the most satisfying taste imaginable henry swanson: other than traditional cockney double pie double mash single liquor with white pepper chili vinegar and 70's exad chemical orange flavor drinks one pokes a straw through natch as one continues to rub ir hand pushes on top of theirs both harder and faster ir eyes widen ir cheeks flush and they arrive in perfect sunlit ecstasy back arching in liquid waves a sky dolphin leaving the ocean for the stars they then cry out the sound fading at its peak ir head falling back against the sofa passing out wow amazing we thought this only happened to starched victorians in whalebone corsets swooning at unexpectedly exciting steampunk slumber parties up at the lightkeeper's house minutes pass and swanson observes the tiny beads of sweat on ir luxurious student bodhi they finally open ir eyes slowly as if adjusting to the light after re entering the lower sensual atmosphere like a truer cockney gent swanson asks the only thing possible: 'you alright there love' they stare back up and smile face red and bright with sudden morning desire as if in complete understanding and total communication they reply: 'yeah baby just fine' yet henry already unconsciously senses that compared to the outer atmospheric joys of elf contained psychedelic feminine organism ir temporary usefulness as a scientific researcher in these matters is already at an obsolete end just then holo-tv switches itself back on // republic of bob