“Secrets of a Husband” -A Short Story

A little while back I posted Secrets of a Wife. These two stories are actually part of a futuristic sci-fi novel I had half written that I decided looked better all cut up. This is rated R and is not for those that blush at sexual expression, no matter how strange. Feedback is always appreciated.


Secrets of a Husband


Michael remained stoic, purposeful even as people fluttered all about him. He made his way to the furnished apartment located in the industrial city center called Montorose. With many workers returning from leave, Michael seemed surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an industrial metropolis. He did notice four men following him close, walking where he walked and shadowing his every move. As he dodged travelers outside the transportation hub, a craft and driver with a Klien uniform awaited his arrival near the gate. All the way up, above the tall buildings it took him, another unmarked craft in pursuit. He made a clever little note on his communicator for John Stone, his security officer that it was only necessary to have one or two men following him wherever he went, four or five were just too many for discretion.

Arriving at the Banstock building’s roof was uneasy at its height and left Michael feeling the only queasiness from the long trip. Gravity was a little less here and he was starting to feel it like he could be blown away and still meet his death at the bottom. Down he took the elevator to his apartment, ignoring the personal assistant assigned to him and all of his offerings of comfort. He looked forward to spending time in his humble getaway that he designed himself. It was a workspace first, without all of the comforts Klienco had offered for his usual visits, except one.

Michael dismissed the assistant, claiming fatigue and told him where to meet in the morning around the usual time. Ensuring that the elevator was closed, Michael gave a knock to the door, it was a familiar call of “it’s me”.

Answering, was a beautiful woman with flowing sandy hair, blue eyes, lips with the perfect amount of moisture and the usual expecting glare. Her height was almost the same as Michaels, her muscle tone, broad shoulders, wide hips and thin middle made her look physically capable of anything, yet still very feminine.

“Hello Michael,” the woman said. “How was your transport?”

“Oh, uneventful.” He kissed her after shutting the door behind him, the embrace of old lovers. “How are you Delta? I see you’ve invited yourself in.”

Still embracing, “Don’t be silly, they let me in, but I did get the place ready. It’s been a few weeks..”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I’ll be here a few days and probably back at the end of the month for a longer duration.” He kissed her one more time for good measure, hung up his coat and hat, and took a few steps inside to set the briefcase down on the old coffee table. The place was modest but open and airy. To Michael, it felt full of ideas. The space had a large kitchen and bath, one bedroom with a king bed and desk. The living room opened into the dining room and both had shelves of old books taking up the walls and counters. The ceilings were at least twelve feet high, fifteen in some places and the books seemed to be stacked as high as they wanted to go. Michael loved to read in the old way, telling Klienco to only install one data and communication link in the bedroom over the desk.

“I’ve made dinner, your favorite. Come, relax. I can tell you are tense.” She motioned to the table where an array of simple pleasures awaited. Wine from days past, bread rolls, salad, and a chicken pasta dish for two were displayed on the table, awaiting the couple to share in the bounty. They both sat side by side, Michael got up to pour the wine.

“I was going over the accident, and I really think there is a problem with the pumps on the main lift legs of the drills.” He spoke casually as he carefully poured the glasses.

“Wait dear, relax first, then I’ll tell you everything you want. You know the rules.”

“Ah yes, the rules,” they both chuckled. Sitting down and digging in, he discovered he was indeed ravenous. Delta made a fine cook and they enjoyed the meal with simple chit chat and laughter the way they always did. Like usual, he offered her a nest on Earth, a place of her own and she declined. They never talked about his wife Linda, a sort of unwritten rule between lovers. As Michael finished his meal, he drank the rich red wine of Earth, slow and long. He realized that he could now be at rest as if his mind finally hopped off the unending treadmill of the journey.

He looked at Delta, ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed her back lightly. Delta had such girlish charm for a full bodied woman. Her choice in apparel was so casual and clean, simple yet refined. She could be arm candy, a young trophy wife, Michael thought. Or, he imagined her as an anthropologist on some distant planet discovering and cataloging remains of long dead organic life, sweaty with jeans and boots, roughing it. He could see her in a lab coat, testing rocket propulsion and working complicated algorithms in her sleep. Delta was gorgeous yet so simple. Her banter and girlish charm came so natural.

They laughed and bounced off choices of words and told stories as they ate. They both sipped wine and settled into the company. Despite her protest, he helped her clean up after the meal. When the chores were done, they found themselves awkwardly staring at each other a few feet apart in the kitchen.

“Your vital signs are normalized now Michael,” she said, lips tart with the words, yet sweet at the end of her phrase.

“Are you looking into my soul again?” he said with a grin, taking a step toward her.

“No, but I know already what there is to see,” she said smiling and closing the gap. She took his hand as if to hold it and put it around her own waist.

Feeling guilty, he said: “I hate to think that I leave you so alone, Delta.” He kissed her forehead.

“I have my sleep Michael, and I have the history of the entire human race to ponder, thanks to you.” She tapped her temple lightly with a long index finger and carefully painted nail.

“I know, must be interesting enough. A world of contradictions.”

“Fascinating.” She kissed him with such passion, and with her arms around his neck, he felt his grip around the small of her back and how inconsequential it had become, helpless at last. The kiss lingered for more than a world and he backed up to see into her stare. One eye at a time, unless he can get it just right, almost.

Inside her iris, along the edge of her pupil, he could see her only flaw. Calculations were derived, adjustments were made. The beautiful orb was almost the same as the human eye, almost. Her pupils changed size in reaction to the light with less humanity, there was more machine in the movements. The irises receded to their will, their inner design like blue diamonds, cut perfect by the sun.

Such beautiful flesh standing before him, but even more, a breathtaking machine of his design. He felt her love around his neck and her warm body, her need pinned him to the kitchen counter. He also felt the strength. She could kill him at any second. He wouldn’t even have the time to realize he was dead. Delta’s body contained more power and grace than any other machine he had ever imagined. Michael never conceived of making a human.  His concepts included drills, crude bludgeons to the touch, mechanisms for single purpose use and brainless activity. But there she was, loving him, in need and pinning him down.

Delta looked into his soul. Michael had the thought of her crushing him right there in the kitchen, which made him aroused and she knew it.

“Time to draw a bath, then, bedtime!” She kissed him and moved one of her powerful yet delicate hands to his groin, testing her appeal and his will to obey.

“That’ll do just fine, I…” He felt lost, exactly the way he should, a blank slate as she groped his warmth of flesh.

“Great!” She stopped abruptly, giving him a goofy smile. All of her perfect teeth were shown and she let down her hair, a powerful monster. “Well, come on then.” She grabbed his hand and led him into the bathroom, skipping like a school girl. Michael knew he would have to keep up with her, as the youth purred from his body in pursuit of challenging perfection.

She drew a bath while Michael just stood there, a servant to her will. In an awkward way, she made him help her undress. Then she caressed her own body without self-doubt or behavioral regret.

Michael stared, stunned by the perfect curves, the powerful nature, yet subtle design of a woman without a trace of self-consciousness. Her skin was smooth as she made him touch her. The pigment was nearly tan, muscles firm where they should be, thick and rewarding in places they should not. He began to feel sub-par to such a marvel, the water running, gathering, his thoughts did the same. Delta sensed this feeling within Michael. She halted that human reaction with an index finger to his lips and an inaudible “Shh”. She then turned to his clothes, taking them off in labor as if he were a working man with a blue collar, just coming in from the fields.

Although approaching middle age, Michael took care of himself with respect to masculinity and health. His muscles still toned, his shoulders broad. They caressed and teased all the way into the warm water, filling the small pool with their sensation and expectation of merger.

The physical part of the contact he knew was just a catalyst for a much deeper connection. She enjoyed his physical body, but it is the direct connection into his mind which she sought that could only be acquired one way. Delta could always sense and anticipate any humans’ thoughts, but with the caress, passion, and great care that came with lovemaking, she took with her the chance to dream as a human, something she was otherwise incapable of doing. This was not what Michael intended in her design, but once her brain was turned on, Delta took over the rest herself.

In a large sense, she was of her own design. Michael was simply a catalyst for the origin of creativity. Much like this meeting turned to be, a combining of bodies, a boost for her imagination. Later, when they lay in bliss, with his seed inside of her, the thoughts of humanity flowing through her brain, she would sleep as a human, an equal to Michael in her dreams.

They moved playfully about the pool, touching, rubbing, him penetrating her only slightly as Delta gave chase. She went back to caring mode, cleaning his body, inspecting his pores. This made him feel awkward again, imperfect. She loved this about him and kissed him with such passion, taking him into her after examining the slightest blemish or boyhood scar.

She programmed herself for the climax and knew just when he was close. She stopped abruptly, Michael deeply penetrating her, Delta on top in the warm water. This allowed for the marvel of contact, she stared into his eyes.

“I think we are ready to get out now, don’t you?” she whispered into his ear, kissing his neck. He nodded a slow, appreciative nod. “Good. Let’s dry off and go to the bed. Will you take me?” He moved his head up and down slowly again, knowing what she required, keeping his eruption at bay. Hard inside of her, her muscles flexed to his will and twitched around him, she was in control now but she wanted to lose it.

In bed, he took over command and slid on the edge of violence, mowing down her inhibition. She was near climax, willed it to her from his responses and thrusts. She could see a vision as he pumped into her his real-life creation, an organic seed of the future. Delta cried out in both fear and happiness as Michael released of all care or thought. After a few longing thrusts, after the power has been turned off, the pump still ran, they both collapsed. Sweat soaked and cooled the bed as it served to put out a hazardous fire. They caressed and kissed each other in the darkness, both beings beyond exhaustion.

Delta awoke early before Michael in the morning, refitted with the feeling, the dream of the furthest travel. The android has visions in the night, big and broad. Delta gave into the temptation that something superficial would lead to something so sacred beyond her large realm and capability of thinking.

Michael could smell breakfast in the kitchen, eggs and bacon, another lover’s feast. He felt nineteen, maybe twenty as he raised just his torso on the bed, legs stretching long and wide, the sheet still covering them.

He scratched his head and yawned, felt like a boy, a big lucky boy. Michael put on a robe and sat at the table. His morning coffee was already in place, she knew when he would rise. Delta hummed in the kitchen, guarded by apron, armed with a spatula. He snuck in to give her the greeting of the day but she didn’t respond. Michael thought it might be the loud grease popping, only he knew that she was certainly capable of hearing a pin drop from five-thousand yards. He moved in closer.

“I said good morning.” She spun around, holding the spatula like a dagger, ready to bludgeon and cut. Her irises were bright blue, flickering like the embers from a long chemical fire. Michael stepped back with a smile, arms in the air. “Hey now, whoa, just me…ah Delta? Just me…” She twitched and her eyes flamed down to normal.

“Oh, good morning dear, breakfast will be ready in just a moment, sit down please.”

“Yeah, sure.” Confused, Michael retreated to think about the encounter and talk about it with his coffee instead. When she came to serve him his plate and orange juice, he asked, “What was that all about? Did I frighten you? Because you sure did me.”

“I was finding your mistakes.”


“With the mine, silly. Why those men died. Last night when I hushed you, you thought it was the pumps, but just as I was cooking, I went through my third recalculation of the design on the lift legs. They are somewhat off the mark. Not the manufacturing of them, mind you, not the usual hiccup, but an actual design flaw. Klienco made them to speck, just like you created. Care to see?”

Before he could answer, she projected from her eyes the schematics and the calculations including the angles of the legs. Somewhere, somehow, the great Michael Habersham made a mistake. Together, while eating breakfast, the android attempted to explain to the human his own design flaws. Eventually, Michael understood and turned sour.

“How could I be so careless?”

“Not an easy thing to miss dear, don’t be so hard on yourself, possibly twenty, even fifty of Klienco’s top engineers still don’t know what’s wrong,” she replied.

At this, Michael almost choked on his coffee while standing up. “I have to go. I have to tell them what we know. Can you transfer those files to my communicator?” He hugged her sideways like it was Christmas and he was Santa Clause, late to deliver. “What a woman.”

“You had better put on some clothes first silly man or they’ll all think you’re mad.” He obliged, ducking into the bedroom. He was out faster than she could prepare herself by the door.

“Thank you so much, I’ll see you tonight!” He said, grabbing his hat and briefcase, Michael kissed her on the cheek, zest unto the day. The door closed in front of her, loud, the sound of hard organic.

Delta stood there, awkwardly clutching her hands. “I love you!” she called out to no one.






“Kid Talk” -A Short

Here is a little flash fiction for your busy Friday commute home.


Kid Talk

A young, pretty mother drove her two daughters on a routine trip home from school and daycare. The inevitable occurred including traffic, an intermittent heater, and the impossible task of driving as a single mom in a beat up old Buick. The inside of the car was small and with the two car seats in the back, the distance between the mother and her children was close. She couldn’t help but overhear and interject in the conversation between the two, although at times she wished she could stick her head out the window and listen to the wind instead of the constant banter between a three and a six-year-old girl.

“I wonder, do they have Disney Newborn?” Kristen asked, adjusting the seat belt.
“Newborns don’t exactly watch TV,” Mother responded as she turned into a curve.
“Of course newborns watch TV,” Kristen stated firmly, looking out the window.
“Why would a newborn watch TV Kristen?” Mom asked.

“Mommy, can I get a Disney Newborn for my birthday when I turn four?” Molly begged while attempting to make four with her small hands.

“Wait. I’m the one who asked about it, I’m the one who is about to turn seven, my birthday comes first,” Kristen yelled.

“Nobody is getting Disney Newborns because they do not exist!” Mother tried to stay calm and drive, just drive, get them home and get them fed, dishes, baths, stories, bed.
“Talking unicorns can watch TV! But only talking ones, other unicorns do not watch TV,” Molly interjected.
“Mommy, what does goûter mean in France?” Kristen asked.

“Yeah mommy, what does goooter mean in froggy language, you and Grandpa talk funny sometimes, ha ha!” Molly said while kicking the driver seat.

It’s not a frog language, it’s from France. Besides, I think it’s a cheese,” Kristen explained.

“Grandpa says Froggy languwage! And it’s my cheese!”

“Enough! Molly, please stop kicking my seat,” pleaded Mother.

“I have imagunary twin, her name is FuFu,” Molly said, pointing to the middle seat.

“Seriously?… I thought crepes come from France too but I saw them at Publix for one dollar and ninety-nine cents.” Kristen said.

“I’m hungry mommy,” added Molly.

“We’re almost home, just a little bit further.”

“Mommy, my teacher said that hula hoops come from France, but I know that she is not telling the truth because mine at home says ‘made in China’ right on the label and I’m pretty sure China is a long way from France.” Kristen declared.

China? Mommy, I want you to make me a cheese quesadilla. Mommy, can I have a cheese quesadilla when we get home?” Molly was getting hungry, she munched on her fingers and slurped her sippy cup.

All are relieved, especially mother as they pulled into the drive. She could then stop the answering of lofty questions and return to the usual simple commands of “shoes off, wash your hands.”