Phoenix was lounging nude on the open balcony of her 78th floor apartment, idly scanning The Feed through her implant. She was blonde, nude, slender, with firm medium sized breasts, a trim waist, well proportioned hips. She was the epitome of the best that this world could produce. Thanks to the miracles of modern medical science she could be anywhere from 18 to 118.
However, odds were high on it being the latter.
Fingering her bald pussy languidly, keeping herself about half way to coming, she contemplated her options, her dusky nipples basking in the warm morning sun.
According to The Feed, Citybrain was analyzing the problem of Exits, specifically "drops," jumps from high-rise buildings and their impact on traffic.
She giggled to herself, wondering if Citybrain had caught the pun.
But she felt a little thrill as well. It was something she had contemplated, more than once. Partly it seemed there was nothing out there she really wanted to live for. It all seemed so mundane.
She wasn't depressed, just bored. The thought of taking that last step off into the unknown gave her a frisson of excitement, her cunt spasming on the edge of an orgasm as she slid a finger into her hot, slick channel, pinching her tit with the other hand. If it weren't for the fact she didn't want to inconvenience anyone, she might do it.
What would it feel like, that last exhilarating step into emptiness, the air rushing past, the solid pavement drawing closer and closer, knowing it would end in a final smash? Would she prefer face first, so she saw it coming? Or on her back, for the surprise. She could do it with her favorite vibrator in place, even, the way dear Amphitrion had only a month ago.
But Amphitrion, always somewhat thoughtless, had taken an unfortunate pedestrian with her.
Phoenix contemplated finding a willing lover to join her. Locked together they could tumble into space as her orgasm began. The sensation of falling would probably extend her coming, and if her lover came at the same time, so much the better.
But her last affair had ended in boredom, and there was no one new that interested her.
Fingering her pussy more boldly, stoking the fire in her belly, thinking of that long plunge, she brought herself to a thrilling orgasm that left her panting.
She came down from the high with the same problem she'd awoken to. The same problem most of the world seemed engrossed in these days.
What to do today?
The Feed showed ads and trailers for shows, plays, musicals, sporting events, tri-vids, holos, even literature, but nothing really new, just more of the same-old same-old. All the mountains had been climbed, the ocean deeps explored. A twitch of an eyelid or the wave of a finger and The Feed would bring to her whatever bit of human knowledge, habitat, art or creativity she desired.
Even space was settled. To the degree possible the colonies were virtual clones of Earth, seamlessly networked into The Feed, albeit with delays imposed by the speed of light over long distances.
But she'd been there, done that -- when? -- a decade ago?
A few brave immortal souls had set out for the stars, never to be heard from again, of course. Even at near-light speeds the voyages would take decades, even centuries. But she'd experienced the tedium of space flight within the solar system, riding around in a container with the same people day after day. If anything it was more boring than her current existence. Extending that to an endless voyage to an unknown destination held no appeal for her.
Barring an accident, she could live forever, and forever was a very long time.
Then a modest ad caught her eye. It was silent, didn't flicker or flutter, scroll or roll, which made it stand out from the overwhelming clutter and din of The Feed.
"Looking for a way out? Come to EXITS."
Sensing her interest in the way ads did, the banner expanded as it did a slow fade into a new message:
"Your final fantasy fulfilled."
That triggered a tingle, a little pulse in her cunt. Were they offering what she thought they were?
A blink of her eye and she was looking at the stuff that dreams are made of.
"At the end of your road? Ready explore the next?" a smooth, male voice announced over soothing background music. "You may choose from our ever growing stock of final solutions, or we can tailor your end to your personal fantasy, within limits, of course. No muss. No fuss. We take care of all those niggling little details that can make an Exit so untidy.
"Private or public departures can be arranged, single and group rates are available. Payment is simple. All charges are automatically deducted from your estate at the time of your Exit."
While the voice had droned on, a series of brief holos had flickered past, a woman on a gallows, rope around her neck, another kneeling before a headsman's block, even one in the coils of a monster snake! All women, all nude, she mused, wondering if there was a similar ad tailored to men. She had a vision of a muscular specimen facing his end in valiant battle. That was more in keeping with the masculine psyche, she supposed, but arousing in its own way. But she'd seen enough staged combats to be weary of the thrust and parry.
"Come to our showroom at 1453 Avenue D West, Level 84, Room 8401, or fill out our online form for further information."
A local address, an excuse to go out. It was enough to stir her from her lounging. Donning her shift and sandals she headed out, her heart beating quickly.
EXITS' reception area in one of the more Tony high-rise towers was discrete, conservatively decorated in mellow tones and dignified furniture. The attractive receptionist, conservatively dressed, presented a 'pad for Phoenix to enter her information, the usual personal data, legal details such as next of kin, personal assets, legal provisions, easily completed with a quick link to the information in her personal ID files.
Only the last line required manual input, asking for a brief description of her favorite Exit fantasy.
That was an easy one, the long drop to hard pavement. It wasn't the sudden stop at the end that appealed to her as much as the long drop.
"But of course, you can't exactly change your mind once you've started," pointed out the tall, well built man in the office she'd been escorted to by the receptionist. Obviously her wish had been transmitted to his desk.
She giggled nervously, her hands fidgeting. "I guess not."
"And when would you like to make your Exit?" he asked.