Saturday, August 29, 2009
Henry in Love
(The Sunday New York Times of 8/2/09 printed an article titled “A Smart Shower May Even Know Your Song.” Apparently your shower can now be programmed to anticipate and respond to your subtlest preferences.)
Henry was in love. Again. But this time he knew it was the real thing. Always in the past he had been disappointed. Not this time. This time he had been able to program everything just the way he wanted.
He named her “Daisy.´ She was the very latest in custom computer driven showers, with 36 spigots, each streaming or pulsating rhythmically with their own varying pressures, frequencies and water temperatures. In addition to water throbbing from all sides, cascades splashed down from above and thrust up from the floor. All was programmed exactly as he wanted.
The music he selected of course built to a climax synchronized with the water and with his own biological needs. His selections were most often from presto movements in Vivaldi concertos or from frenzied Flamenco dances.
In the beginning he had hesitatingly filled the misting spray with mild perfumes. That is until he learned of fragrances containing female pheromones. Now he used them liberally.
He was aware that he now spent much longer in the shower than heretofore. During the week he showered in the morning and again in the evening. On weekends, he also showered in mid-afternoon. He would have liked to somehow find time for even more, but exhaustion from his present routine was all that he could handle.
Henry was lying in bed, cooling out after his most recent afternoon shower. Debussy played softly in the background. As he relaxed he thumbed through his recently arrived catalog of shower accessories: towels, infused with body lotion and floral fragrances, together with what were called 'recharging sprays' to be used on the towels after laundering; sudsing mits fashioned in varying degrees of softness, from Lufa to 'Fur Feeling' according to the advertiser, and porn videos to be watched during the shower. Henry had no interest in the videos. He kept his eyes closed during his showers and permitted free reign to his own extravagant fantasies.
Henry wasn't certain what he liked most: the preparation and anticipation leading up to the shower, the shower itself, or its aftermath. All three phases he considered superior to his former experiences with live woman lovers.
Preparation now consisted in selecting options from a list of possibilities.. His favorites and most recent preferences were highlighted. He could choose to repeat them, vary them, or make completely new selections. Thus his sensual experience never grew repetitious. Daisy never objected to any setting he wanted. She never complained that he was ignoring her needs. She had no preferences of her own other than to perform as programmed. Daisy never had a headache and never just wasn't in the mood. And during the shower, Daisy never complained that Henry finished too soon. Indeed Daisy never complained about anything.
And, after his shower, as Henry lay on his bed, relaxing before nodding off to sleep, Daisy never annoyed him by wanting to have a conversation and never reviewed all his insensitive transgressions of the day.
"This," thought Henry, "is what eternal bliss in heaven must be like."
Henry was in love. Again. But this time he knew it was the real thing. Always in the past he had been disappointed. Not this time. This time he had been able to program everything just the way he wanted.
He named her “Daisy.´ She was the very latest in custom computer driven showers, with 36 spigots, each streaming or pulsating rhythmically with their own varying pressures, frequencies and water temperatures. In addition to water throbbing from all sides, cascades splashed down from above and thrust up from the floor. All was programmed exactly as he wanted.
The music he selected of course built to a climax synchronized with the water and with his own biological needs. His selections were most often from presto movements in Vivaldi concertos or from frenzied Flamenco dances.
In the beginning he had hesitatingly filled the misting spray with mild perfumes. That is until he learned of fragrances containing female pheromones. Now he used them liberally.
He was aware that he now spent much longer in the shower than heretofore. During the week he showered in the morning and again in the evening. On weekends, he also showered in mid-afternoon. He would have liked to somehow find time for even more, but exhaustion from his present routine was all that he could handle.
Henry was lying in bed, cooling out after his most recent afternoon shower. Debussy played softly in the background. As he relaxed he thumbed through his recently arrived catalog of shower accessories: towels, infused with body lotion and floral fragrances, together with what were called 'recharging sprays' to be used on the towels after laundering; sudsing mits fashioned in varying degrees of softness, from Lufa to 'Fur Feeling' according to the advertiser, and porn videos to be watched during the shower. Henry had no interest in the videos. He kept his eyes closed during his showers and permitted free reign to his own extravagant fantasies.
Henry wasn't certain what he liked most: the preparation and anticipation leading up to the shower, the shower itself, or its aftermath. All three phases he considered superior to his former experiences with live woman lovers.
Preparation now consisted in selecting options from a list of possibilities.. His favorites and most recent preferences were highlighted. He could choose to repeat them, vary them, or make completely new selections. Thus his sensual experience never grew repetitious. Daisy never objected to any setting he wanted. She never complained that he was ignoring her needs. She had no preferences of her own other than to perform as programmed. Daisy never had a headache and never just wasn't in the mood. And during the shower, Daisy never complained that Henry finished too soon. Indeed Daisy never complained about anything.
And, after his shower, as Henry lay on his bed, relaxing before nodding off to sleep, Daisy never annoyed him by wanting to have a conversation and never reviewed all his insensitive transgressions of the day.
"This," thought Henry, "is what eternal bliss in heaven must be like."
