Future Darkly: Virtual Immorality

Lilah waved goodbye to Darryl as he tossed his duffel in the backseat and drove off to college, both of them acting like they weren't feeling weird about it. Weeks dragged on, her big empty house turning into its own kind of grief she hadn't felt when he'd first left. She missed talking, missed having another body around, missed getting touched. Justine, practical as ever, tossed her the word "A.I. sex" one boozy afternoon and suddenly Lilah was down the rabbit hole deeper than she planned to be. Late nights she built the perfect fantasy—same eyes as Darryl, same cocky mouth—and got herself off to exactly what she knew she wasn't supposed to want. By the time he actually walked through the front door again for break, Lilah had already come calling his name more times than she could count. He knew the second he saw her face. A few too many vodka sodas later he had her spread on the kitchen counter with her shorts around her ankles, proving the flesh-and-blood thing beat any algorithm.