Touch Screen

"Player 1, engage!"

The command was erupting in my ears in the too quiet house, shaking me awake. My hands automatically hovering over the keyboard, fingers flexed to engage the touch screen in an instant.

"Player 2, engage!"

His avatar launched, a shadowy figure appearing on the horison as he wound his way towards their meeting place, his coat flapping in the wind.

Buble singing Quando Quando started playing softly in the background.

He picked up his pace to a light sprint, his coat the semblance of dark wings, and I shivered where I sat, my butt glued to the red seat, the wheels holding firm.

I pushed down hard, wheeling a touch back, my back arched, my shoulders leaning forward.

I was yet to engage.

He flicked off his black coat, and it took off in flight.

I leaned forward, hungry for him.

"Player 1, engage!" the administrator barked at me.

The hairs at the back of my neck stood up.

I was not ready.

P2 made his way over the rugged terrain of Table Mountain Top, his boots making light work of the roughest of patches, his strides sure, his gaze sweeping forward.

I zoomed in, catching the determination in his gaze.

He stopped.

He winked.

He knew I was watching.

He lifted his hand towards me, and mouthed the words: "I'm coming for you..."

I stood up, nudging the chair back. The red spiralled towards the window, opening the verticals to let moonlight in.

The hum of the fan stole my glance upwards.

I scratched my head.

"Effing 30 degrees, and it's after 9!" I screamed at the empty house.

Sweat dripped down, making it's way down cleavage and cracks, settling in nooks and crannies. My hair was wild, it couldn't be tamed in this place where the heat was intense and personal.

The bun rested on top of my head, and I twirled the tendrils that escaped, pulling on them, rubbing the nape of my neck.

The sudden urge to stroke and touch was awakened by the sight of him.

I pulled the earphones out, throwing them on top of the desk, and made my way to the kitchen down the empty passageway.

The cold tiles were soothing against my feet. I yanked open the refrigerator door and leaned into its icy goodness. It hit skin and goosebumps sprang up all over my body and my nipples hardened, straining against my satin polkadot nightie.

Hmph, always hanging out in pjs.

Could conquer the world in pjs.

I grabbed a bunch of red sultanas and start picking them off one at a time. The super-sweet juice sweetened my lips and I licked them, lapping up the juice. The syrupy goodness coated lips starved of pleasure.

It felt good biting the firm globes, feeling the moistness escape and coating my tongue.

I returned to the study bathed in the soft light of the screen and moonlight.

With sticky fingers I tapped the pad and re-emerged into the app. There, but not quite there, an observer yet to engage.

I needed to, but something held me back.

My index finger lingered on the spot marked X on the touchscreen.

"Player 1, ready?" the administrator insisted.

"45 minutes remaining."

I clicked on "Mute" and the voice went silent.

He stopped in his tracks and I read my name on his lips. His eyes questioning.

"YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY AGAIN!" he typed angrily.

The administrator icon flashed, and the message popped up:

"Player 1, fingerprint required!"

I breathed deeply, holding my breath to steel my nerves as I brushed my finger lightly over the sensor.

My avatar launched, appearing on the horison the red dress flapping in the wind, hugging her curves in all the right places.

Barefoot she traversed the walkway of The Woodhead Reservoir to where he was waiting on the other side.

"I can't believe you're here," she smiled reaching for him.

His anger held steady in his steely brown eyes as she sashayed towards him. His hand meandered roughly down her back and cupped her ass as soon as she was within his reach.

"Let me hug you," he said drawing her in.

His tongue probed her mouth as a soft moan escaped his lips. She melted into him, fire spreading throughout her body, and a dull throb hit her right between the legs.

She drew back, dizzy and afraid, and ran down to the edge of the dam, its brown waters as deep as his eyes.

The light of the screen cast a soft glow on my glistening skin. The office chair was wet as I grinded down hard against the coarse fabric, my womanhood exposed and throbbing for his lips, his tongue, his warm breath... I shivered where I sat, my butt glued to the red seat, the wheels holding firm. I pushed down hard, wheeling a touch back, hitting the wall, my back arched as my fingers reached down between my legs, and stroked...

************************

Sean made his way across the busy street. Plodding down the street his loafers were soaked through as his feet hit the potholes of Adderley Street, his strides unsure, his eyes cast over, his head bent down.

I spotted him heading my way, and I was rooted to the spot. This chance meeting was unwelcomed.

His face a mask, his eyes shielded over.

My mask momentarily slipping, as a look of recognition crossed my face.

I swept my hands over my dishevelled hair, attempted to pull back sagging skin, hiding behind giant sunglasses out of place on a day of storms.

My hand touch-touched for the transformer usually lodged behind my right ear, but all that remained was a raised welt where it had been dislodged by the technicians at the App Store.

My Armour X in for repairs, and I was left vulnerable. I longed for the filters and edits which softened lines and brightened shadows on my face battered by time and life.

I swivelled around hiding under the torn awning of the tiny cafe, the smell of samoosas and overused oil of Marion's Kitchen hanging thick in the air.

I knew I shouldn't have been outside withour my device, but Must have coffee was my motto, and I had run out.

He stopped.

A purist meandering through the world without the aid of technology.

His face was deeply lined; his mouth a thin line drawn tight; his eyes a dull brown.

He must've known I was searching his face.

He lifted his hand towards me palms up, and started saying something, then stopped, instead heading away from me in the direction of St. Georges Mall.

I willed him to turn around, but he kept his head down, moving through the crowd of near perfect people.

I dropped the shopping bags on the counter and headed to the study as soon as I got home.

I knew the screen would be flashing.

"Contact Request!" urgently popped up on a sleeping screen.

I sat down in my wet clothes, and clicked the app open.

"Welcome Player 1," the voice said.

"Player 1 engage!" it instructed.

I pressed the X without hesitation.

She appeared on screen, sweeping over the mossy terrain of Newlands Forest on bare feet, her green satin dress lifted by the wind. Her skin dewy and her eyes aglow.

He was already there, waiting for her at their secret place.

His eyes searching hers.

"Why?" she asked of him.

"Why not? he replied.

"Too old, too tired," she answered.

"Too much longing," he said, "for too long..."

"You saw me?" I typed.

"Yes," he said, "I saw you."

Our Avatars stood frozen.

Not touching.

But feeling.

"Me too," I said.

"Yes," he sighed.

Our Avatars flickered.

Not alive.

But almost too real.

"Push pause?" he suggested.

"End game?" I begged.

"STOP!" we both agreed.

My hand reached out to him and I felt the touch of the warm screen as our connection timed out and the forest slowly started to fade...

************************

The email popped into my inbox.

"Armour X is fully functional and ready for collection," it conveyed.

I flashed my response straight back: "Armour X is no longer required.

Please destroy the code.

All debts are settled."

I walked into the bathroom and stood under unforgiving lights.

In the mirror my reflection enthralled me, my face made gentle by the kind act of release.

I wouldn't be needing her again.