Selena could imagine only too well the scenario in which she was participating. After all, she was wholly responsible for it. One small, but large breasted, girl was applying her wide-open mouth to Selena's own. Another girl, very similar in appearance, if not virtually identical, was licking and sucking and chewing her smooth and hairless vagina. Selena found the taste of saliva and teeth almost sweet, slightly salty, and strangely convincing. Her fist and most of her forearm was embedded deep within the vagina of a third girl, who differed only in appearance from the other two by virtue of the colour of her hair. All her eyes could see was the smooth white skin of the girl she was kissing, but she knew that the one whose vagina she was so brutally violating had canary yellow hair. And, correspondingly, a very hairy canary yellow crotch.
Selena liked her girls to have hairy crotches. She didn't know why, but the combination she somehow liked best in her girls was that they should be short, big breasted and with very thick pubic hair. The girls' faces were mostly fairly identical: impossibly smooth and blemish-free. Just like her own face. Their straight hair was cut level to their chins and coloured, in these cases, yellow, blue and red. The hair colour was almost the only thing that could positively distinguish the three girls who were so passionately making love to her.
"Do you like it, bitch?" snarled Selena, in that erotic comic book style she'd once never believed she'd ever adopt.
"Yes, mistress!" said the yellow-haired girl, who demonstrated her ecstasy by cries of joy. She was hot and sticky and remarkably life-like.
In fact, all the girls were remarkably life-like. Even Selena. She had placed many full-length mirrors about the extensive garden where she mostly spent her virtual life, so that she could admire herself as she walked, played or made love under the steady, unchanging, midday sun. As she observed her reflection in a nearby mirror set into the trunk of a large oak tree, she saw the image of herself in the passionate company of three short voluptuous girls, with skin so ivory smooth and perfect. The larger, taller, slim, but massively breasted figure who was naked in the midst of these girls was herself. Not involved in the action, but available at a moment's notice, was any number of similarly identical girls, with the self-same hairstyle coloured green, purple, black, gold or whatever.
The girl who had been kissing her mouth transferred her attention down to her breasts and planted her thick luscious blue lips on their perfect aureate nipples. A drool of saliva fell out of her mouth, and rolled in a deliciously erotic flow down the lower contours of her huge mammary endowments and gathered as a puddle in her navel. Selena pulled her forearm out of the yellow-haired girl's cunt, dripping as it was with vaginal juices, and placed her lips and mouth on the well-delineated folds of her labia. The perfectly proportioned clitoris. The two folds of vaginal lips. The vagina itself that was capable of stretching to hold any sized object of approximately the right shape and dimensions. As was the almost equally accommodating anus.
If only real life were like this. Not that this wasn't incredibly realistic. Indeed, in terms of taste, feel, smell and sight, it was actually more vivid and more credible than reality. But the nature of cyberspace is always to be a more lucid, more convincing and more tangible than the real world. And also a lot more accommodating to the fantasies that Selena or any other visitor to cyberspace might have. In the real world, of slow rather than accelerated time, of mundane rather than hyper real sensation, of aches and pains, of people who would not obey her every whim as her short, large breasted girls would do, in that world, Selena was a middle-aged, maybe even past middle-aged, woman, of slightly frumpish appearance, who had given up dying her hair, and whose skin showed only too well the creases of age, and whose waist-line was forever disobedient to her dieting plans.
It was also true that she was a successful scientist, in the unfashionable field of organic chemistry. And blessed by an equally successful marriage, at least in terms of durability. And she earned an income that was the envy of both her peers and her own fat and balding husband. But in cyberspace she was a large breasted lesbian nymphomaniac.
And maybe this image of herself that had evolved over many years of logging in to the virtual world and which she had created for her own pleasure, maybe this image was the real Selena that was hidden behind the thick lens of her glasses and her never very flattering clothes. Maybe she was meant to have enormous breasts, a slim waist, full thighs, and legs that went on forever. Rather, that is, than to have been a plump, grey-haired, middle-aged woman with several moles scattered on her face that grew larger at the same rate as they lost their youthful colour. Which one was the real Selena? Chemistry department Selena? Or sapphic sex goddess Selena? Selena was an expert in chemistry, not metaphysics. She had no answer to questions like that at all.
Selena paused in her lovemaking, and her three lovers paused also, but continued to stroke, kiss and cuddle her in the way she liked so much. Her personal avatars were so perfect. They matched her mood exactly and without question. Climaxing when she climaxed. Relaxing when she relaxed. Never complaining. Always ready and willing. Always there. But at this point the capacity of their Artificial Intelligence reached its limit. There was never any conversation possible beyond that of Selena's sexual desire and their own need to satisfy it. They had no experience upon which they could reminisce. No knowledge on which to pursue a conversation. And their roles were entirely circumscribed by her original intentions when she selected their avatar specification parameters.
So, she was delighted to see Angela, her closest friend in cyberspace, appear in her garden. Angela was not a virtual creation, except in the sense that the full-breasted, long-legged Selena was a virtual creation. Selena had no idea what the real Angela was like. No more than Angela knew about Selena's successful career in academia. The Angela that Selena knew was very slender, almost breastless, smooth-skinned, with a bare vagina and long straight black hair that came down to her buttocks. A contrast indeed to Selena's much more voluptuous virtual identity. And she tasted so very sweet. Her vagina, her small nipples, the ream of her anus, was so pleasant and sweet to the tongue. Quite unlike the rich smells and tastes with which Selena flavoured her body.
Angela was different from a pre-programmed avatar not only by virtue of her appearance. As a real person with her own volition she was able to express herself in ways that were so much her own and not those of her designer. She had her own desires, her own sexual tastes, her own perversions, quite unlike Selena's and somewhat unpredictable. Although she could do what she liked with her own creations, Selena needed to be much more sensitive with Angela. If Angela wanted fisting then Selena could fist her. But if Angela were not in the mood for that, then Selena would have to find other ways to entertain.
And it wasn't only sexually that Selena and Angela could engage with each other, though of course this was the original excuse that had brought the two together. They could also chat and discuss the world and their worries. They could just stroll together, hand in hand, either through Selena's virtual world of gardens, forests and grassland, or, when Selena exchanged a visit, in Angela's virtual world of mediaeval castles and eighteenth century manors. It was on those visits that Selena probably got to find out most about her cyber lover.
The fact that they shared sapphic fantasies was given. After all, it was in a sapphic chat room that the two had first met. This particular chat room, with the cheesy name of 'Women Who Love Women', was actually quite tastefully done. Beautiful velvet curtains and upholstery, huge portraits of women making love to other women, comfortable leather and velour sofas and divans, and, in all this, a milling group of women, or what Selena hoped were women, in their fantasy virtual avatars looking either for as real a love as they could find in cyberspace or just for friendly company.
At first, Selena hadn't been that attracted to Angela. She had no real taste for slim or small-breasted women, but they got to chat by the huge fireplace, just below a portrait of three women enjoying rather extreme sex, and soon found that they had more in common with each other than they had with the other women whose company they shared. A taste in sapphic sex that, although not necessarily sadistic, was still quite refined and cruel. And both of them were pleased that here they were in a world where they could indulge in their sexual fantasies, even to the most extreme prejudice, and it would have no real deleterious consequences.
.... There is more of this story ...