06-03-2026, 06:36 PM
The low amber light of Apartment 302 cast long, flickering shadows against the mahogany desk. Bavi sat on the edge of the hard wood, her forest-green skirt pushed up to her waist, her breath hitching as Shri stood between her spread thighs. The hum of the cooling fans from his high-end workstation provided a rhythmic, mechanical pulse to the room, but the only "Processing Power" Bavi cared about was the man currently dismantling her composure.
Shri’s large, warm hands slid up the silk of her inner thighs. He didn't rush. He traced the sensitive skin with a slow, agonizing deliberation that made Bavi’s toes curl against his shins.
"The latency is high, Lead," he rasped, his eyes dark as they tracked the path of his fingers. "You’re vibrating."
He reached the edge of her lace—the fresh, black barrier she’d put on that morning with him in mind. With a practiced, possessive tug, he slid the fabric down her legs. Bavi leaned back on her elbows, her chest heaving, as he pulled the lace completely off.
Shri didn't drop it. He lifted the scrap of silk to his face, closing his eyes as he took a deep, lingering breath of her scent—jasmine, salt, and the heady, musk-sweet evidence of her "drenched" state. He let out a low, guttural groan of approval before letting the lace flutter to the floor, a discarded "Security Protocol" no longer needed.
"You smell like a 'System Overload', Bavi," he murmured.
He leaned in, his mouth crashing onto hers in a deep, authoritative smooch that tasted of hunger and triumph. His tongue was a "Manual Override," claiming her territory with a ruthless efficiency. He moved to her neck, his lips searing the skin just above her collar, right where the HR thermal sensors had failed to see the truth.
Bavi’s head fell back, her fingers digging into his bare, muscular shoulders. "Shri... please..."
He didn't stop. His hands moved to the shoulders of her silk blouse. With a slow, steady pressure, he eased the fabric down, exposing the elegant curve of her shoulders and the pale, jumping pulse at the base of her throat. He trailed a line of wet, biting kisses along her collarbone, his teeth grazing the bone just enough to make her gasp.
"I’ve wanted to de-militarize this suit all day," he whispered against her skin.
He reached for the front buttons, undoing them with a "Command-Line" speed that left her breathless. He peeled the blouse away, letting it join the lace on the floor. Bavi sat before him in nothing but her forest-green skirt, her skin glowing in the amber light.
Shri’s gaze dropped to her cleavage, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts betraying her total lack of a "Firewall." He reached out, his palms cupping her fullness, his thumbs brushing over the lace of her bra with a proprietary weight.
"The 'Hardware' is magnificent, Lead," he groaned, his thumbs circling the peaks until Bavi let out a shattered, high-pitched moan. "I think it’s time for a 'Full-Depth Audit'."
He leaned down, his mouth replacing his hands, his tongue tracing the valley between her breasts before moving to claim one silk-covered peak. Bavi arched her back, her hands winding into his hair.
Shri’s large, warm hands slid up the silk of her inner thighs. He didn't rush. He traced the sensitive skin with a slow, agonizing deliberation that made Bavi’s toes curl against his shins.
"The latency is high, Lead," he rasped, his eyes dark as they tracked the path of his fingers. "You’re vibrating."
He reached the edge of her lace—the fresh, black barrier she’d put on that morning with him in mind. With a practiced, possessive tug, he slid the fabric down her legs. Bavi leaned back on her elbows, her chest heaving, as he pulled the lace completely off.
Shri didn't drop it. He lifted the scrap of silk to his face, closing his eyes as he took a deep, lingering breath of her scent—jasmine, salt, and the heady, musk-sweet evidence of her "drenched" state. He let out a low, guttural groan of approval before letting the lace flutter to the floor, a discarded "Security Protocol" no longer needed.
"You smell like a 'System Overload', Bavi," he murmured.
He leaned in, his mouth crashing onto hers in a deep, authoritative smooch that tasted of hunger and triumph. His tongue was a "Manual Override," claiming her territory with a ruthless efficiency. He moved to her neck, his lips searing the skin just above her collar, right where the HR thermal sensors had failed to see the truth.
Bavi’s head fell back, her fingers digging into his bare, muscular shoulders. "Shri... please..."
He didn't stop. His hands moved to the shoulders of her silk blouse. With a slow, steady pressure, he eased the fabric down, exposing the elegant curve of her shoulders and the pale, jumping pulse at the base of her throat. He trailed a line of wet, biting kisses along her collarbone, his teeth grazing the bone just enough to make her gasp.
"I’ve wanted to de-militarize this suit all day," he whispered against her skin.
He reached for the front buttons, undoing them with a "Command-Line" speed that left her breathless. He peeled the blouse away, letting it join the lace on the floor. Bavi sat before him in nothing but her forest-green skirt, her skin glowing in the amber light.
Shri’s gaze dropped to her cleavage, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts betraying her total lack of a "Firewall." He reached out, his palms cupping her fullness, his thumbs brushing over the lace of her bra with a proprietary weight.
"The 'Hardware' is magnificent, Lead," he groaned, his thumbs circling the peaks until Bavi let out a shattered, high-pitched moan. "I think it’s time for a 'Full-Depth Audit'."
He leaned down, his mouth replacing his hands, his tongue tracing the valley between her breasts before moving to claim one silk-covered peak. Bavi arched her back, her hands winding into his hair.
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