She Sounds Just Like You...

Darcy sits at her desk, headphones on, working on her science project when Mae walks in and marvels at the AI replica she built. The voice is perfect, the personality even closer. Mae leaves the room impressed. Hours later she hears soft moans coming from behind Darcy's door. She leans in and freezes. Darcy is leaned back in her chair, skirt bunched at her waist, fingers sliding over slick, swollen flesh while the AI purrs dirty promises in Mae's own voice. Darcy’s free hand squeezes a heavy breast, pinching the stiff nipple through thin cotton. When she opens her eyes and meets Mae’s stare, her hand stalls between her thighs but the AI keeps talking, filling the silence with filth. Darcy’s cheeks burn. She admits she built a hidden mode just for this, because she’s wanted Mae for months. Mae’s breath catches. Instead of anger, heat floods her face, her nipples tightening under her blouse. She steps inside, closes the door, and tells Darcy that nothing programmed can compare to the real thing. She pulls the headphones off, cups Darcy’s flushed face, and kisses her hard. Clothes fall away. Mae’s mouth finds Darcy’s full breasts, tongue circling each tight peak while her fingers slip between Darcy’s legs, matching the rhythm the girl had set for herself. Darcy gasps, arches, reaches up to palm Mae’s own generous tits, feeling their weight, their warmth, their living pulse. When Mae pushes two fingers deep and curls them just right, Darcy comes with a cry that drowns out every synthetic moan the AI ever made.