Message-ID: <14918eli$9809011502@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Stephanie Subject: NOT TG: Celestial Contest Entry - African Dreams by Stephanie Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.stories.erotic,alt.sex.stories.moderated Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980830200542.17275.qmail@nym.alias.net> This isn't a TG story, but I'm posting it to the asstg newsgroup anyway as I hope fans of my TG stories will like this. This is my entry to the Celestial Reviews competition. I sent this to Celeste before the closing date and I'll send it again just to make sure it gets there. My website is at http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/2525/. There you'll find out a little about me and where my stories are archived. If you are an author of TG stories and you would like to put a similar page up on that site, let me know. This story is copyright 1998 by Stephanie. All rights reserved. You may repost or store this story on your website as long as the work is not altered or charged for. As always, this is an adult story and it should not be read if you are under the age of eighteen. Celestial Contest Entry - African Dreams by Stephanie "Dean!" called Mark. He squinted in the bright light of the African noonday sun as he searched for his son. He listened closely and over the whine of insects he heard a peal of laughter emanating from a clump of trees thirty feet away. Mark sighed and started to trudge over the uneven ground towards the grove. There was no way he was going to go through this every evening; he would have to have to buy a tracker program. Of course, he could have turned the room off and not bothered hunting his son down. But he had read in far too many books that doing that could harm the development of the child. He was dubious of many of the claims made in those books, but these days he couldn't afford to add to his weighty problems. So he walked in the sweltering heat, as he always did, to recover his son from a world that didn't exist. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being burnt by the sun. It was programmed to be fully safe for all ages and Dean hadn't even got a tan, despite all the hours he spent in the room. Finally, he reached the trees and peered into the darkness under them. "Dean? Come on, it's past your bedtime." "Don't want to!" A petulant voice replied from less than five feet away. "Don't start now, Dean, please! It'll all be here for you tomorrow." Receiving no reply, Mark pushed into the dense growth. Something was moving just a few feet ahead. "Dean! Come here this instant!" He pushed through the grass and something large stood up in front of him. It roared straight into Mark's face and he fell back in fright, instinctively balling up on the floor. Then common sense took over and he felt embarrassed and angry. He looked up at Dean's laughing face as his son sat on top of the lion's head. "You're funny!" Dean remarked delighted. Mark counted to five and then stood up. Of course the lion was no threat, but even after the last few weeks it was still almost impossible to convince the primitive sections of his brain of that fact. Dean made no attempt to hide again, perhaps aware that he had pushed his father as far as he should. Mark picked his son off the lion and said "Door," loudly enough for the computer to register. "Door!" Dean mimicked as the exit from the room and the route back to reality appeared as if by magic. The house lights seemed dim after the African savannah. But then, that only matched Mark's feelings for the house. Once it had been a home, now it was just a house. Empty and cold. Mark pushed those thoughts from his mind and put his son to bed. After he closed the door of Dean's room behind him, Mark dreaded the evening ahead. As he had dreaded all the evenings for months now. This was the time when the house seemed the most empty. When Dean was up, even when in that playroom of his, Mark could fool himself that everything was alright. That Helen had just gone out for a few minutes. That she would be returning from doing the grocery shopping soon. That she wouldn't be run off the road by some drunk fucker-- Mark cursed his treacherous mind and headed back to the stairs. Helen's death had ruined every memory he had of her. The six years of happiness and love were now overlaid, like an oily film, with the memory of that day when his world shattered. His psychiatrist told him that one day he would be able to remember the good times unsullied by her death, but Mark didn't believe him. He looked in on his own bedroom, but couldn't face the prospect of sleeping there that night. He would have moved into the spare room, but for the fact that if he did that he knew he would never go into his and Helen's bedroom ever again. Blazing sunlight was leaking round the door of Dean's playroom. He had forgotten to turn the thing off. Something stopped him in the process of shutting the VR room down and he stepped inside. It'd be better than staying in the house with all those painful memories of Helen, and he'd still be close by if Dean needed him. He closed the door behind him and suddenly he was alone in the middle of Africa. He looked around him and he had to admit it was totally realistic. It should be too at the price he had paid for it. Mark tried to decide which way to go, but anything interesting looked miles away. A smile crossed his face. Why walk? "Guide," he said and an eight-foot tall pink dinosaur appeared beside him. "Hi!" it said enthusiastically. "What do you want to do today?" "Basic menu," growled Mark. The dinosaur faded and was replaced by a rotating triangle six inches along each side and hovering eye level above the ground. If anything that 'dinosaur' made him shudder more than the lions. "Give me a Jeep," Mark told the guide and waited. It took the computer several moments to analyse his request and decide what he probably wanted. Then it produced a Jeep straight out of the second world war, even down to the markings. Mark shrugged. It wasn't what he had in mind, but it would do. "Give me a road in that direction," Mark said, pointing in a random direction. This was an easier command to process and a perfectly straight length of tarmac stretched into the distance from his feet. He climbed into the Jeep, started it up and roared down the road as fast as he could go. Animals looked up warily as he passed, often moving further away from the strange metal beast. The novelty soon palled, however, and Mark wondered what to do next. Maybe he should call up an Indy Car circuit and go racing. Just as he was about to call the guide he noticed something odd in the distance. What looked like a white tower. He turned off the road and moved over the uneven ground towards it. The tower proved to be closer than it had first appeared and seemed to have a long flat overhanging piece at the top and a ladder at the back. It was a diving board. As he got closer he could see that it came with a pool as well. It was insanity to have a pool there, of course, but then this wasn't reality. Mark wondered if it had been included in the program as a joke by the programmer. Still, Mark's curiosity was piqued and he stopped the jeep by the pool and walked over to it. The sun was still very warm and the water seemed very cool and inviting. Mark stripped to his underpants and cautiously eased himself into the water. He didn't want to risk diving in just in case the pool was only a visual illusion and he crashed into the ground. It would be an appallingly stupid way to die and he wasn't sure the playroom would protect him. But the water seemed real and it was certainly refreshing. Mark lazily swam a few lengths and then dived down to the bottom of the pool. He touched the bottom and then came back up for air. This was actually quite fun. Perhaps he should spend some more time in here after Dean had gone to bed. "You finally made it then," a voice behind him remarked. "I was beginning to think you'd never come." Mark shivered. Nothing in the world could make him turn around at that moment and face the person who had just spoken. He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well. It was a voice engraved on his soul and he had never thought he would ever hear it again. "Well," said the voice again, "aren't you going to say hello." Unsteadily, Mark turned around in the water and looked at the other person. "Hello, Helen." he said. His wife was wearing her favourite white bikini. She smiled at him and then dived gracefully into the water. As he watched her stroke through the water towards him he tried to work out how she could be there. She was dead. He had had to identify the body himself. How had she gotten into Dean's program? Helen surfaced right in front of him and she put her arms around him. Mark was paralysed by two powerful emotions running through him. On the one hand, he knew she was dead and he felt like he was holding a corpse. But on the other it was obvious she was warm and alive, and it was Helen. "W-what are you doing here?" he asked. "I'm here with you and Dean, of course," she replied as if he should have known that. "Where is my little bundle of joy, anyway?" "He's gone to bed," Mark said quietly. It was Helen; there was no doubt, but how had she got there? "We played all afternoon together," she told him. "He's got your smile, you know." Dean had done this, Mark realized. He had probably asked for his Mommy and the ever-helpful pink dinosaur had gone and analysed some of the home movies in the House memory and created Helen. Dean was still too young to truly understand what had happened to his mom, but her absence had obviously driven Dean to create her in the playroom. No wonder he spent so much time in there. Mark knew he should delete this program from the playroom and have a long talk with Dean. Painful as it would be, his son couldn't continue to lean on this virtual mom. It would damage his development. Helen leaned in and kissed him. Mark opened his mouth in surprise and her tongue met his. Dear God, he thought, she even tastes the same. His body reacted just as it always did and she gently pressed her pelvis against his hardness. Instinctively, his hand slipped around her waist and held her slim form to his. The desire and the loneliness crashed over him and tears started to run down his face as he held her. "Shhh, it's alright." She said as she gently stroked the back of his head. "I've missed you so much, Helen." "I know, but I'm here now." Her hand snaked down between them and tugged at his briefs. Slowly she eased them over his swollen member and then down. Mark's fingers ran slowly over his wife's body and then slipped then under the bikini bottom. She looked at him and smiled, "I'm already wet." Mark couldn't help but laugh back, "Of course you are. We're standing in four foot of water." He pulled her bikini bottom off and she removed her top at the same time. He ducked down just below the water line to reach Helen's nipples. They were as deliciously dark and inviting as he remembered. His hand stole between her legs and gently parted her lower lips. Helen wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave a small contented sigh. Mark could feel his own pent-up urgency growing and he knew he could hold back no longer. He scooped his hands under her thighs and lifted her. In the water it felt like she weighed nothing at all and it was no strain to carefully lower her onto his manhood. Almost infinitely slowly, she slid down and down until he was fully inside her. For the first time in months he was complete again. His wife's long, smooth legs were wrapped around his waist and he held her tightly. He was almost afraid to start thrusting as that meant he would have to pull away from her to start with, but then the two of them started to slowly move together in perfect harmony. Her sensuous inner warmth stretching and separating to admit his firmness inside. It had been far too long since they had been together like this and Mark was quickly growing to his climax. He could sense a similar urge in Helen as if this program also felt the same longing. Their movements increased in speed. Now her fingernails were digging deep into his back, but he didn't care. It just proved that she was feeling as excited as he was. Her breasts pressed against his chest and it was easy for him to feel her nipples digging into him. Her own thrusting faltered and stopped as her orgasm overcame her, but Mark just redoubled his own efforts. He was so close to his own climax. Then he too orgasmed and he buried his face into his wife's neck as he pumped his seed into her. Mark had no idea how long they remained locked together like that, gently kissing and caressing each other. Eventually, Helen pulled back. "We're going to get all wrinkled if we stay in here much longer." "I don't care," Mark replied. "Well, you're not a woman. You don't care about your body as much as we do." She gracefully lifted herself out of the pool. Mark managed to retrieve his briefs from the floor of the pool and then followed. Apparently, while they had been making love, some sunchairs had appeared around the water's edge. Helen lazily rolled into one and sighed, "This is the life. Do you remember the last time we made love in the water?" "Yeah, it was just off that secluded beach in the Caribbean." "I tried giving you a blow job and I almost drowned!" She giggled. Mark stopped and looked at her closely. How did she know that? It certainly wasn't stored anywhere in the house memory. "I suppose it wasn't one of my better ideas." "I always wanted to go to Africa, you know." Helen said wistfully. "That's right, we kept putting it off until Dean was older. Then we ran out of time and you... you were gone." He fought to stop himself from crying again." Helen got up and walked over. "I know it hasn't been easy. If I had any say in the matter I would never have left you and Dean. But I didn't so I did. Did you buy this room for Dean?" "Yeah, he loves it here. I'm not so sure I did the right thing doing it though." "Nonsense, it's good for him. I was watching him earlier playing with his friends. Without this program linked to the net he would never have known they existed. You should spend more time in here with him, though." "Yes, dear." He said in a mock-contrite voice. She smiled. "I mean it. I know how badly my death hurt you, but you mustn't let it build up a wall between you and Dean." She let that sink in for a moment before saying, "Look at that sunset! Isn't it magnificent?" Mark turned in the direction she was looking. The sun was near the horizon, but he could have sworn it was nearly noon just moments before. "The sun's nearly gone," he said. "Yes, but even though you won't be able to see it soon, it'll still exist. And, in time, you'll see it again." Mark pondered that strange remark as he watched the sun slowly slip beyond the horizon in a blaze of yellow and orange. "I really wish we'd made it to Africa to see this for real." He remarked after it had gone. "Helen?" He turned around and, even in the twilight, he could see he was alone. Of Helen and the pool there was no sign. He yelled his wife's name at the top of his voice, but there was no response except the sound of insects in the night. "Basic menu!" he snapped and the rotating triangle cursor reappeared. "Return the pool," he commanded. "Unable to comply," the menu said. "The pool that was right here. Bring it back." "This program contains no pools. One can be added at a small additional charge of--" "Shut up," Mark told the computer tiredly. He tried quizzing the computer several different ways, but it flatly denied the existence of any pools or recreations of Helen in its database. "I'm going to have a very long examination of your software," he growled at the room. Time was moving on and it was getting late. He decided he would do it the next morning. "Door!" The exit from the room obediently appeared and Mark stepped through it. He looked back into the darkness of the African program before turning it off. The vision faded to be replaced by a small, plain white room. Slowly, he closed the door. "Mommy?" The voice was Dean's. The door to his room was open and Mark quickly strode to it and through. Dean was awake and looking up at the other person in the room. Helen was now wearing a long, flowing summer dress. She looked up and smiled at Mark. His jaw dropped at the sight of her and a lump blocked his throat. How could she be here? In the VR room was one thing, but Dean's bedroom was quite different. There were no holo-projectors outside of the playroom. She gently kissed Dean's forehead, "I love you, sweetheart." he looked up at Mark, "And I love you too." "Helen, I--" "Shhh," she replied gently, "remember what I told you, my love." And then she was gone as if she had never been there. "Where's mommy?" Dean asked. "Where mommy go?" He sat down beside her and rubbed Dean's head. At last he understood what she had said in the playroom. "You or I can't see her, but she will always be with us and looking after us." He tucked Dean into bed and sat with him until the boy had drifted off to sleep before going to his own bedroom. The house still seemed empty, but Mark was at peace. It wasn't forever and he now realized that he had never been truly separated from Helen and that he never could be. And one day - maybe decades from then, but one day - they would be together again. ********************* -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----