View source for FYOP/Scenario Chamber/A Night at the Opera/0225

You approach the uncertain robot and kneel before her, lifting her skirts over your head. You hear her artificial breath quicken in anticipation, her voice singing, “This man, so gentle and thoughtful a lover!”

Hugging her by her wide hips and soft backside, you bring yourself to her artificial sex, offset from her porcelain-white thighs by a faint tinge of rose. You nuzzle her womanhood, your lips meeting hers, your tongue slipping inside of her as she sings a wordless aria, urging herself against you, her bare legs mounting your shoulders.

“Oh my sweet, tender prince!” she sings, thighs tightening as your hands sink into her soft haunches, her neglected machinery churning noisily as she grinds herself you in slow, forceful movements. “My sweet! My tender!” Her body tightens around you, radiating warmth as her voice climbs higher and higher, her thighs clenching tighter.

Her voice hits a piercing note as her body convulses with release, components snapping under the intense strain as her sex gushes with warmth. You both collapse to the stage, your head buried between her tensed, outstretched legs as her sustained note begins to falter, dropping in register in a robotic drone. You withdraw from her to see her with her arms splayed, a smile on her glowing lips, her voluptuous curves jiggling as her body is visited by electrical bursts.

“My sweet, t-tender prince,” she whispers before her eyes flutter closed, her machinery growing still.

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[[FYOP/Scenario Chamber/A Night at the Opera/0216 | Collect the core and leave]]