by LJ Frank
It took place at the Mandarin Oriental, a hotel that was less than a ten-minute walk from the Washington Mall. The hotel is palatial and the luxurious rooms breathe tryst, affair, rendezvous, and liaison on bedding of Egyptian cotton. The rooms beckon lovers regardless of political and philosophical disposition.
I was to meet her here. I left her a room entry card at the front desk under my name. I was told she had a Right leaning political philosophy with remarkable physical characteristics. When engaged in the acquisition of carnal knowledge who cares about political philosophical posturing. Besides, I like different angles in the fashionable suites of life.
I sipped my red wine and smiled to myself. I’m a freelance journalist who gauges a person first by the texture of their voice. And on the phone her voice suggested that as a Roman Catholic Republican she had what I call, a pent-up, penthouse energy. Specifically, her voice sounded like the actress that played Jessica Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Oh yeah, Kathleen Turner. It was a voice that exuded the sultry, the lusty, and erotic passion with a heavy dose of seductive sensuality. She was an actor’s actor. I could almost smell her fragrance over the telephone and taste her thick red lips and wet tongue. And marvelously she went by the name of Jessica. I smiled again.
The telephone rang. “Sir, as per your request she’s on her way up.”
Within a few minutes there was a knock at the door. I placed my Bordeaux glass of wine on the table and walked to the door and opened it. I looked around. The Concierge was walking down the hall toward the elevator. There was a box in the hall with my room number on it and on top next to the room number was a large red bow. Fortunately, the box was on a dolly and I was able to easily guide it into the room.
I started to slowly open the box when I was interrupted by a knocking sound. Was it coming from inside the box?
Another knock. It was the door this time. I opened the door. A woman wearing a long tight fitting dress and stiletto heels stood there and said in that familiar voice, “I’m Jessica.”
“You’re Jessica? Then who’s in the box?”
Jessica grinned. “I don’t know. I thought you might know. Do you like surprises?”
“It depends.”
“On what does it depend?”
“Perhaps, the time of day and location.”
“May I come in?”
“Of course. Would you like some wine?”
“Not sure if my system is designed for it?”
“Hm. I see.”
She then adjusted something that looked like a bracelet on her wrist and then asked me, “What are your thoughts about artificial intelligence relationships?”
“Is that a scientific, social or political question.”
“It could be all three.”
“Whatever the case, I prefer lights turned on…unless….”
“Unless?”
“Yeah.”
“We may want to use this,” she said, and then reached in a rather large purse and retrieved something that was wrapped in pink paper.
I started to unwrap it when I heard something come from the box….and again was interrupted.
“It’s an electronic carrot,” Jessica smiled.
“Is this for an electronic rabbit in the box?”
“I’m not sure. What do you think?”
“One has to be careful these days.” I then adjusted a bracelet on my wrist until there was a clicking sound.
The box moved back and forth and the top popped off. A scantily dressed woman emerged from the box.
“Who are you” both Jessica and I asked at the same time.
The woman climbed out of the box and said in a deep, baritone, sultry voice, “Let’s just say that my name is Jessica. I’m a freelance human…a political libertine, with an organic sexuality. I don’t need supplements or extra devices to turn my switch on. But there is something I do want.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
