Forum Letters in 2050

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Author's Note: I originally wrote "That Long Distance Feeling" as an example of what Penthouse Forum letters would look like in 2050. I also started this one, which was to be the penultimate big dick story. The premise was that through genetic engineering doubletalk he would end up with a two-foot penis and she would end up capable of handling it, and the two of them would be chemically keyed to each other (since there was no one else they could boink).

Except frankly, the sex bored me, and I had set things up to have two sex scenes: one here, where I stopped writing, and one at the story's climax (ahem).

Apparently I had a thing for the name Chloe for a while. I often use the same name repeatedly until a story works, and then I retire the name.

JS

Forum Letters in 2050

Dear Forum:

I'm now a junior student an elite orbital college. I can't name it, obviously, and I appreciate the use of your anonymizing service. I'm studying to be a bodysculptor, someone who redesigns living organisms. It's interesting stuff, combining nanotech, medicine, systems design and some other fields. I had no idea how interesting it could be on a personal level until last term, the end of my sophomore year.

There's a two-week hiatus between the end of one term and the start of next. Most students take the opportunity to drop down to Earth. I had decided not to go -- my girlfriend dirtside had dumped me, since telesex wasn't good enough for her, and since my folks were away I didn't really have any reason to drop. I mentioned it to Chloe, one of the girls in my class, since I was single. Chloe's a reed, all slender Thai sylph; she just smiled and said, "Excellent," but she wouldn't say anything more. I looked twice at her, but Chloe didn't respond. She was more sphinx than sylph.

On Friday, I was at the dock watching the last shuttle leave. One of the guys in my class, Gregor, came up and asked me what my Hayflick score was. (The Hayflick's a measure of how much sculpturing your body can take. Most people our age score in the mid-twenties.) I told him my score was forty-four. He smiled and asked me if I was up for something "interesting." He wouldn't tell me what it was, just said it would be "interesting." Well, Gregor's a natural talent, so I figured it would be elite as well as interesting. He told me to meet him in the gym an hour after the shuttle dropped.

There were a dozen students in the gym, including Chloe and Gregor. All were sophomores, all were staying up for the hiatus. Gregor came up and slapped me on the back. He led me out to the center of the gym, by some gymnastic mats. Chloe was there with Paquita, who was the probably the smartest student in our class.

Gregor clapped his hands together once for everyone's attention. He explained (probably for my benefit, since everyone else seemed to know what was going on). Every year-end hiatus, the sophomores in orbit compete, men against women, to see who can do the most elite sculpturing job to the secondary sexual characteristics. Both entries had to "function" -- Gregor grinned when he said that -- at the end of the contest. We had two weeks.

Paquita bowed to Gregor and asked who our contestant was. Gregor pushed me forward, and all the guys applauded. Paquita said I had to be checked for function first, and she knelt before me. One of the other women came forward with a measure and calipers.

In a business-like way, Paquita pulled down my shorts (everybody wears shorts on an orbital) and the other woman quickly and efficiently measured my flaccid boss. I felt a little embarrassed by the measurements (six centimeters long and four in diameter, if you must know).

"Soft," said Gregor, "and in an intimidating environment."

Paquita grinned. "Correct. But we can do something about the first of those." She delicately held the base of my boss between two fingers and then she took it into her mouth. I was, to put it bluntly, boosted.

She didn't do anything at first, just let the warm wet comfort of her mouth work its magic.

Behind her, I could see that Chloe had been stripped naked, too. She had small perky breasts with tiny dark nipples and no hips at all. She'd colored her pubic hair, a white lightning bolt on an orange background. I wouldn't have expected it of her. Two of the men were measuring her. I remember her bust line was 82 centimeters, but I don't remember the volumes for her breasts; I was paying more attention to what Paquita was doing.

---And it ended here---

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