PROTOTYPE 18
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.me.uk

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

They gave us adjoining suites in the New Waldorf Astoria.

The famous and stately original hotel had been tragically swamped when the sea
levels rose, inundating most of Manhattan and, in fact, much of the city of
New York and other low-lying regions of the continental United States. But the
foundations remained sound so, in effect, what the New Waldorf Astoria was
built upon was the old Waldorf Astoria, and preserved much of the old elegance
and grandeur.

New York was Lucy's first real taste of how much the world had changed. The
canyon-like streets were now mostly canals, traversed by yellow water-taxis
and busboats, much like Venice. Except Venice isn't there any more. The
characteristic cliff-like buildings of metropolitan America flanked the
canals, and as she stared out the window the sound of water lapping against
concrete reached her sensitive ears. I came to stand behind her and rested my
hands on her shoulders, noticing the track mark of a single tear on her cheek.

"Lucy, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, I suppose. It's just so.different. I remember New York at night.
It was so much more lively that this. Where are all the people?"

"Sorry?"

"The streets used to be packed, day or night. People walking, running, or just
standing talking. Where's all that?"

"I don't know this city all that well", I confessed. "But there isn't much
space for walking, any more. The walkways along the canals are little more
than jetties for the taxis and busses, and a few privately owned boats".

"I miss it. I'm not a New Yorker but still, I miss it".

"I know you do". I gave her a quick hug. "But it's OK. The city is going along
just fine. And the CNN people are doing us proud".

That much was true. The helicopter had delivered us right onto the roof of the
hotel, and we had been courteously escorted straight to our suites. They had
cordoned off the entire floor, with private security posted at each entrance.
One suite had been turned into a self-contained studio and the redheaded
reporter, Susannah Zczacheschevska, had taken up residence in another. We were
told to order feely from room service, and to make ourselves fully at home;
nothing would be too much.

They wanted their pound of flesh in return, of course. Lucy had agreed,
reluctantly, to repeat all of the tests Mike and I had carried out and more
besides, all for the benefit of the cameras. Even now, down the hall, there
was the sound of power tools as the necessary kit was installed.

Lucy's first interview, however, was not scheduled until tomorrow morning.
Susannah had made sure we had everything we needed, and told us to relax. She
advised us against going out but said that, if we really wanted to, she would
arrange some of the private security guards to accompany us.

We agreed. We had had just about enough of ducking and diving, and the
prospect of a quiet evening alone with no distractions seemed like heaven.
Looking out the window with the lights of the city reflected like jewels in
the canal waters below, with Lucy gently leaning her warm body against my
chest and my nose in her sweet smelling, freshly showered hair, my life could
have ended right then with no regrets.

We felt great. We looked a lot better, too. I had shaved off the beard; well,
I had to, or Fish and Game might have declared it a National Park. Lucy had
gotten rid of the dark dye, and her hair was back to its original natural
blonde. Still quite short, it gave her face a mischievous, elfin quality. CNN
provided decent clothes, and at least we looked and felt like a couple of
civilised human beings. I enfolded her in my arms and let go a sigh of deep
content.

"Happy, Darling?"

I felt my heart quicken. She called me Darling! Careful not to seem over
eager, I allowed myself a couple of deep, steadying breaths before replying.

"Absolutely. Absotively posilutley. You?"

For an answer, she turned in the circle of my arms and reached up to draw my
face close to hers. Her full, sensuous lips brushed tenderly, teasingly,
against mine. I responded naturally, letting my tongue flick out to touch tips
with hers. She bit gently at my mouth and pulled me even closer, welding our
bodies together as our mouths clamped hungrily on one another. One of my hands
roamed over her back, feeling the solid flesh beneath the smooth fabric of her
shirt, while the other found and caressed one perfect breast.

Lucy moaned softly, the sound muffled by my mouth on hers. Her fingers fumbled
with my shirt buttons, then ripped them open in her haste to get her hands on
my body, running them through my chest hair with titillating nails.

Her shirt wouldn't come out of the waist of her jeans. I gave that up and
unsnapped the fastener, pushing down her pants until I could cup the smooth,
hard mounds of her buttocks in my hands. The iron hard muscle beneath the
soft, velvety skin felt wonderful to my touch. Being with Lucy was a
marvellously tactile experience.

She smelled great. An outpouring of slightly musky, potently female, enhanced
pheromones, unaided by any artificial fragrance. Her scent served only to
arouse me even more, and my jeans became painfully tight as my manhood
strained against the confining material.

We moved apart a little, rapidly divesting ourselves of our remaining
clothing. The sight of Lucy naked left me weak at the knees and gasping for
breath. That gorgeous, athletic, utterly female body was a glorious vision.
I'm not one to brag, but seeing her there, smiling sweetly, so rounded, so
soft, and yet with all that concealed power, gave me an erection you could
hang a flag from.

"My God, woman, you're beautiful!" was all I could manage to say. She pressed
the tip of her finger to her chin and dropped a mock curtsey.

"Thank you, kind sir. Now, come here".

She reached out, took my wrist, and pulled me toward her with a power I
couldn't have resisted if I'd wanted to. Which I didn't, of course. Our mouths
met but this time, instead of kissing, we explored each other's faces and
necks with our lips and tongues, letting our hands wander freely over our
respective bodies.

It was nearly too much for me. Even passively, Lucy all but vibrated with
strength, vitality and energy, and it was all I could do to stop myself coming
there and then. She must have sensed it, because she encircled the base of my
engorged phallus with thumb and forefinger, effectively stemming the rising
tide of orgasm, and saving the day.

"Time for bed", she muttered against my chest.

I wanted to be romantic. I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and carry her to
the bed. So I tried to lift her, and to my credit I think I got her feet a
centimetre or two off the rug. She tried to be impressed, but in the end
couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Put me down, before you give yourself a hernia".

I did so, gratefully. In the heat of the moment I had almost forgotten that
her enhancements included her weight and, to be fair to myself, to watch her
move you would never have guessed.

She flexed her knees and scooped my into her arms, delightfully turning the
tables. I never knew that being lifted and carried by a strong, naked woman
could be so erotic! It's almost like having a bodywide sexual experience,
being held against the warmth of her body, flesh to flesh, supported easily in
her two arms. I should have felt helpless, but I didn't. I should have been
scared, but I wasn't. It was the most fantastic feeling of security, and so
sexy that my ready erection became even more tumescent.

"Who's a big boy?" Lucy smiled, licking her lips in appreciation. She was
probably just saying the right thing at the right time but, boy, did it do my
ego good.

The bed was massive. She bore me over to it and tossed me, playfully, into the
middle. The soft mattress sank under my weight and Lucy was atop me,
plastering the length of her body along mine. She must have taken most of her
weight on her elbows and toes, though, because I wasn't flattened. We kissed,
and I let my hands explore her body, which in itself was a terrific feeling.
Her skin was so soft and smooth, yet the musculature beneath was as hard as
oak. It was like handling velvet-covered teak, like steel under silk. She
moaned softly under my ministrations and ground her hips against mine.

That was nearly it. Very nearly. I almost shot my load, but she reached in
between us and squeezed my burgeoning penis again, once more stemming the
tide.

"Just you wait", she whispered. "I'm not letting you have all the fun".

She raised herself to straddle me, beaming down at me like a shaft of
sunlight. She gently lowered herself on to me, slowly engulfing me in her
warm, wet well. I cried out in ecstasy, almost reaching climax as she settled
on me, taking my whole length inside. Her vaginal muscles closed about me
tightly, but not painfully so. I could tell there was sufficient power there
to do me serious damage, but she chose not to use it.

She leaned forward to kiss me and there, in the deep luxury of that huge bed,
we made slow, delicious love through the dark of the night until the light of
the morning.

Have you ever had sex with a strong woman? Perhaps you have, but have you ever
made love to a woman who was many times stronger than you are? I am here to
tell you that it is the most amazing, fantastic, wonderful.there are no
superlatives sufficient to describe it. All I can say is, it was the most
marvellous experience of my entire life. She had such power and such control
that I could do nothing but go along with her. Time and again I approached
orgasm, but Lucy simply clamped her vagina tight around my staff until the
urge passed, and in that way we enjoyed each other for several hours.

We were both drenched in sweat. In many differing positions, I had spent so
long in near-ecstasy that I had no thought in my head at all. My complete
being was suffused with warmth and the most beautiful high I had ever known.
No drug could possibly have matched it. I gasped for breath, intoxicated by
her body, yearning to come but longing for it never to stop.

At last, it was time. Lucy stiffened, her whole body turning granite hard as
her climax welled inside her. My own, allowed release at last, built up to an
almost shocking level, and together we imploded in an earth shattering
crescendo of dual orgasm that seemed to go and on forever.

Lucy screamed with pleasure, her fingers gripping painfully at my upper arms.
Not noticing the pain I thrust upward, trying to drive my penis even deeper,
yelling my delight to the ceiling. I dug my fingers into her thighs, making no
impression, as I came and came and came, my hot jism pumping into her. I felt
like I was coming for hours, felt as if I was coming in litres. Lucy's hips
ground powerfully into me and her whole body convulsed as wave after wave
exploded within her. Her convulsions battered me but I paid no heed, totally
lost in the most amazing, most violent orgasm ever.

After a year or two, the climax began to subside and I flopped loosely back,
panting heavily, dripping with sweat, unable to move as Lucy rode gently up
and down my length, wringing the last twitching dregs from me.

I was bruised. Bruised and sore. Sore, and totally, utterly spent. Somewhere
in the deepest recesses of my brain, I knew I was going to pay for it, in the
morning. I was going to be so stiff. But even if I never moved again, even if
I never, ever had another orgasm, it had been worth it.

I felt Lucy lift herself from me, my softening penis flopping wetly against my
thigh as she rose. She lay down at my side, nestling into the crook of my arm
with her head resting on my chest. Her fingers gently stroked my cheek and she
muttered something against my ribs, sighing with content.

Drifting off to sleep, I never knew what it was she said.

*

It was close to noon, when I woke.

Lucy had been supposed to give an interview at nine, but the media had let us
sleep on. Perhaps they heard the racket we had made for most of the night, and
decided to be compassionate.

Looking down at Lucy lying next to me, cuddled into my side with one slim but
heavy leg draped across mine, I considered myself the luckiest man alive. She
looked so peaceful and angelic that the flood of love and warmth that coursed
through me seemed the most natural thing in the world. It was almost cruel to
wake her with a kiss

"'Morning", I told her, a goofy grin on my face. "I thought you didn't need as
much sleep".

"'M not asleep", she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. "Been awake for hours,
but it's so nice and warm lying here that I didn't want to move".

I kissed her on the top of her head.

"I know what you mean. I could lie here all day".

That wasn't to be, however. The bedside phone rang and I answered, leaning
close so that only my face would show on the caller's screen.

"Good morning, Dr Cameron". A knowing smile was on Susannah Zczacheschevska's
face. "I hope you both slept well?"

"Fine, thanks. What can I do for you?"

"It's nearly noon. We have to get Lucy's interview out of the way, because
there's some people due to arrive soon to do some tests. Would you like me to
send you some breakfast?"

"Please. Grapefruit for me, and some toast and honey. And coffee". I felt Lucy
nod. "For two".

Susannah hung up.

"C'mon, you", I said, giving Lucy a playful swat on the butt, and stinging my
hand in the process. "Time to rise and shine".

I expected to be sore and stiff, but to my surprise I felt refreshed and
energised, as if the act of making love had infused me with some of Lucy's
vigour. There was some bruising around my pubic area, where Lucy had ground
against me, and five penny sized deep purple bruises on each of my arms, but
other than that I felt fine.

After breakfast, we made our way to the suite that had been converted into a
temporary studio. Susannah was sitting at a table, talking to a stout, grey
haired woman who peered at us over half-moon spectacles. An affectation -
nobody needs to have glasses, these days, with modern surgery and medicines.
The two rose to greet us.

"Ah, here they are. Our stars". Susannah was close to gushing. "Dr, Cameron,
Lucy, this is Ruth Goodheim, our producer". The woman looked like the
archetypal Jewish mother, but there was a sharp, bright intellect behind those
matronly eyes.

"Sean, please", I said as I shook hands with the producer. Her grip was firm
and paper dry. Lucy treated them to her bedazzling smile as she offered her
own hand.

"We knew you'd be tired", Susannah said, and there was that knowing smile
again. "After your ordeal, and all. But we're on a tight schedule, now, and
the experts will be here momentarily". She gestured for us to sit. "Let me
tell you what we've done so far. The disk you made at WKCG, great interview,
by the way, we've already put out on the network, spliced with the sequence of
you, Lucy, with the Humvee. We'll probably use all of that again, but we need
to do a more in-depth interview, now. Later on, for accuracy and independence,
we'll let the experts loose on you. Among other things, they'll have to verify
that you are, in fact, the same Lucy Radovic that embarked on that shuttle all
those years ago. We'd like to record those tests too, if that's OK? Good. Now,
this is Dave, our cameraman, and this is Colin, on sound. Say hi, you guys".
Two young men paused in fiddling with their equipment to smile and wave.
"Sean, I want to interview you separately so you don't have to stay, unless
you want to?"

"I'll stay".

"Good. OK, we'll be ready to go in.?" She looked at Dave, who held up three
fingers. "Three minutes. Any questions?"

"Just one". Lucy spoke for the first time since we entered the studio. "We
appreciate what you're doing, but our idea was to out me in the public eye so
the FBI would back off. I think that may not be enough".

"I know where you're going", Ruth Goodheim put in. "You need to get noticed at
a higher level, and what are we going to do to ensure that? Don't worry.
You're going to meet someone later, who will do just that. It'll be fine".

"OK". Susannah rose to her feet, smoothing back her glossy red hair. "Let's
go, then. Lucy, you sit here". She indicated one of a pair of wingback chairs
that stood either side of a small table. "Sean, you can watch on the monitors.
We'll start with a little stunt, just to get the audience's attention".

I took my seat next to Ruth at a table that supported a bank of monitors. Dave
made some tiny adjustments to the harness of his steadicam and Susannah's
face, wearing an earnest expression, appeared on the screens. She held up an
object for the camera to see.

"This", she said, "is a bar of high quality forged steel". She tapped it with
a fingernail. "It is forty centimetres long, and two and a half thick. Watch".

The camera panned to follow the bar as Susannah passed it to Lucy. All that
appeared on screen were Lucy's hands as she took it from her. I peered over
the top of the monitors in time to see Lucy raise a questioning eyebrow and
receive an encouraging nod from the interviewer.

She gave a tiny shrug, and took an end in each hand. There was a moment's
resistance, then a smooth action as the bar bent round into a perfect
horseshoe shape. The camera stayed on it.

"These seemingly delicate hands, hands that you have just witnessed bending a
bar of high tensile steel so easily, belong to a young woman with an
incredible story". The camera zoomed out to include them both. "Lucy Radovic.
Lucy, why don't you start at the beginning?"

It was all very smoothly and professionally done. Susannah guided Lucy through
it, letting her talk freely and only interrupting on points of clarity. She
wore her TV face the whole time, frowning with concern and nodding
interestedly. There were one or two stumbles or hesitations, but they simple
redid those bits and Lucy came across as the beautiful, charming, and
intelligent young woman she was. By my side, the producer watched transfixed
as Lucy's story unfolded, and burst into spontaneous applause at the end.

"Great", she exclaimed. "That was absolutely great! If that doesn't do the
trick, I don't know what will. Lucy, if you'll just stay there while Dave
moves round, we'll just get a few over-the-shoulder shots of Susannah nodding
and looking interested".

"For once, I don't have to fake it", Susannah said. "That was fascinating,
Lucy. I'm looking forward to some great footage of the tests, and of you in
action".

"It was OK, then?" Lucy ostensible asked Susannah, but was looking to me for
reassurance. For an answer, I held up my circled thumb and forefinger, nodding
and smiling enthusiastically. A security guard popped his head round the door.

"The team is here".

"Tell them five minutes".