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Madison came down with a cold. Nothing serious, just the natural consequence of having sex in a freezer, I assumed. She spent a day in bed to recuperate and Harry brought her warm chicken noodle soup, tea with honey, and lime sherbet with ginger ale. She was perfectly fine the next day, fixing her own breakfast toast with fig jam in the kitchen. Of course, owing to the nature of their relationship, Harry came down with the same bug. We all wondered it best to switch off the transistor for a bit and let the double spend a few days mending in the hibernation bath.
Madison was in the lab first thing in the morning, midway up a ladder, cleaning one of the bronze cisterns. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me enter, wiped her hands against her jeans, and climbed down.
“Nice to have you back,” I muttered, barely looking at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Put me to work. I can make up for the last few days.”
“The cisterns are a good start,” I said. “Drain them and you can wipe the insides, too.”
She nodded, though I could tell she had hoped I wouldn’t be too sour.
“There’s a phase two?” She asked from the ladder, stretching to clean the far end.
“That’s what I hear,” I said. “You probably know more about it than me.”
“We haven’t talked much,” she said, then corrected herself. “He hasn’t told me much about the project, I mean.”
“All I know is we need to get this lab cleaned and start a new batch of organics,” I said. “The professor’s supposed to help as soon as your new toy is up and running again.”
She climbed down and opened the cisterns release valve. Water pooled across the floor drain, and as she waited for the tank to empty, she walked over to where I sat and put her arms around my neck. She gave me a kiss—very platonic—on the cheek.
“Don’t be too sore with me,” she said. She walked back toward the ladder, tying her hair, her lovely blonde strands, atop her head.
“Do you sleep with both of them?” I asked.
She turned, surprised by my frankness.
“They’re the same,” she said.
“Both bodies at once, I guess I mean.”
“You want to know if I have threesomes with the professor’s two bodies?”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Madison shrugged and climbed to the top of the ladder. She looked into the empty cistern, made a face about the level of grime, then began to undo her jeans.
“We’ll, I’ve definitely tried,” she said, struggling to pull the tight denim from her hips. Those transparent white cotton panties were beneath and, snagged on the pants, fell a little lower than they should have before Madison pulled them back up.
“I told him I’m very good at multitasking, very good with​​—” she glanced at me then cut herself off. “But he seems completely uninterested.”
She climbed into the tank and crouched below the rim.
“It’s like he wants to forget about the existence of his older body altogether,” her voice echoed from inside the cistern. “Wants nothing to do with it. Even for…” she stood for a minute, holding out her arms like a pinup model, then crouched back out of sight.
After work Madison retired to the library. Said she was looking forward to a quiet evening of reading with a glass of wine.

***
With Harry back in operation, the cleaning process moved much faster. He swapped out any broken components of the cathode array while I scrubbed the floor and Madison finished the cisterns. He hand-pumped water back into the cooling tanks as I sterilized the equipment and Madison scrubbed away any soot stains from the fire. Separated for a few days, there were moments when the two of them became distracted from the chores at hand—Madison, for one, was absolutely useless if Harry was working the pumps, transfixed by his tireless brawn. Harry stopped work any time Madison descended a ladder, her cheeks peeking out beneath the green bikini bottoms she’d taken to wearing for the cistern task. But for the most part they were on good behavior.
Until the end of the day. Madison went to the kitchen to make dinner for the professor, but he surprised her, through Harry, by untying her bikini bottoms before she could pull her head from the refrigerator. I finished making my sandwich and ate on the portico.
On such a lovely night, I decided to spend the night in a hammock on the dock. The frogs croaking in the reeds, the crickets in the brush—it was quieter than my room was bound to be. But even here, alone over the water, I still couldn’t escape their sybaritic displays. Madison in the light of her bedroom window, shaking her freshly-dried hair, Harry’s open mouth against the front of her neck.

***
On Friday evening, after a long week of physical labor, I decided to relax in the professor’s ornate Turkish bath. With row upon row of white and blue tiled columns, the bath seemed to span the basement section of an entire wing. Through the dim light and the steam, I couldn’t see the opposite wall, just the rippling blue water stretching into blackness.
I heard the creaking of a large metal door along some distant wall. I expected footsteps to follow, but hearing none, I opened my eyes. I saw only white haze and the faint light on the water.
I heard a light padding, as of bare feet on slate, though I couldn’t determine a direction. Then, by a column, I wondered I caught a quick flash of skin.
“Hello?” I called.
The same sound of footsteps, this time in the opposite direction. Then a loud metallic sound further away, though this was only pipes resettling after use.
I saw only her legs at first, lithe and already damp with steam. They glided between a pair of columns, and when she passed the second, through the shifting flow of the mist, I saw her hand clasping a towel around her chest.
I followed her with my eyes, afraid I’d lose her in the steam if I looked away. Indeed, she seemed to vanish entirely for a moment, but then Madison emerged in her entirety, staring at me blankly from an opposite edge of the pool.
“Miss Lounds,” I said.
She didn’t respond. She only looked down curiously at her towel. She fingered the cloth for a moment, then pulled the top hem from her body. She opened one side, then the other, and let it fall by her feet.
I’d never seen her this exposed, her pert body reflecting the light from the water. She was toned, her stomach flat, her legs sculpted, but with the soft flesh of youth that made it all seem unintentional. Her high, perky breasts, the suggestion of her supple, round bottom, and between her legs, a tiny patch of hair above a petit pair of flushed lips—this was simply how she existed, a living tribute to yearning.
She lowered herself into the pool without taking her eyes off me. She dipped beneath the water and emerged with her wet hair pushed back from her forehead, droplets careening down her chest. She approached me slowly. The water lapped against her belly button.
She took my hands when she was close enough to reach. She pulled herself closer, letting her body float over my lap—my aching lap—and let her knees rest on either side of me, on the submerged bench where I sat. She held herself taller than me, her stomach pressed to my ribs, breasts to my neck, and stared down at me, down at my body.
Then, looking me in the eyes, Madison lowered herself onto my cock. Smoothly, without any of the timidity, the shyness I’d expect given how snugly I fit. How warm she felt, a soft warmth compared to the heat of the water around us.
She took me as deep as she could, let out a curt gasp, then began to rise. She drew me out to the edge of her lips, and so enveloping was she that I felt her tighten against even the absolute tip of my cock. She balanced herself there, right on the verge of pulling away completely, then lowered her body slowly back down, locking eyes with me.
Madison’s mouth parted faintly. With each rise she came perilously close to slipping off my cock entirely. But she never misjudged, and each time she drew me back inside of her she did it faster and faster, the water lapping around us, cresting louder and louder against the tiled wall.
Between her wet body sliding against mine, her widening mouth, her fervid gaze, and the fact that my desire had gone so long unfulfilled, I felt myself building sooner than I would have liked. I still half-expected her to pull away, to hoist her naked body from the water and offer one final peek at her soaking riches before wrapping a towel around her chest and disappearing into the steam. But she held me inside of her. She rode faster, shallower, her pelvis barely lifting from mine before throttling back down. As my body began to shake, she squeezed me tightly inside of her. Madison began to shake. Her shoulders tensed. The sound of our thrashing wake echoed among the columns. I went rigid, She arched her back, and I came, a release felt throughout my body. Only half-conscious, I felt Madison hold both hands against my chest, watched her bite her bottom lip, heard her moans swell.
Except it wasn’t Madison’s moans, they weren’t coming from her. They were, they had to be, I could see the shape of her mouth. But she wasn’t the only one. There was a second cry, a tantalizing giggle of foreplay, the sigh from a hands first venture beneath a skirt, a tongue’s first taste between the legs, and this second cry was coming not from the Madison currently in climax atop my lap, but from a Madison in another room, on the other end of an air vent.

NSFW: yes

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