Though our bed was small, I managed to keep plenty of space between me and Brandon. We lay in the darkness, pointedly ignoring the noise from the apartment next door. A headboard smacked relentlessly against the other side of our bedroom wall, and I recognized Whitney's voice crying out, "Harder! Harder!" Her husband, Banks, issued fervent grunts while obeying her demand.

This was a nightly occurrence, and one I'd grown used to since moving here with Brandon a month ago. He and I never discussed our neighbors' active sex lives, or our complete lack of one. But my husband—still strange to think of him that way—now turned on his side to face me.

"Alissa," he began in a low, gentle voice, "maybe we should at least try to—"

"I need more time." I didn't mean to sound so curt, but it was as if I couldn't help it. 

Brandon was quiet for a long moment. "I understand," he finally murmured, then turned his back to me. 

I knew he could report me for refusing to have sex with him. Maybe he soon would. Now that marriage was so carefully arranged and controlled by the government, our personal matters had become affairs of the state. In this new realm, couples were expected to live in wedded bliss. Any departure from that role was frowned upon. 

It had all started as a kind of hopeful experiment thirty years before. My parents were among the first settlers here. With a population of just over a million, this country had been peacefully carved from a much larger one, like a surgically amputated limb. Like many others, my parents had big dreams of reconnecting with nature. Early on, they recognized the danger of runaway technology sweeping over much of the planet. They and hundreds of thousands of their contemporaries lamented the loss of community, and of what they considered our very humanity.

When this country was founded, they left all they knew to make a life here. Within the first ten years, the population became largely self-sufficient, though some trade with the outside world was still necessary. Energy was derived from renewable resources, and the food and water were free of contaminants. For my parents, this was paradise.

To the rest of the world, however, our country was a quaint but largely unappealing outlier, and the number of yearly applications for citizenship remained modest. Most were repelled by the laws regarding technology. Here, it was kept to a minimum: no smartphones, and no portable devices to distract us. And wasn't that fair? After all, the bond of family and friendship was eroded beyond repair elsewhere. People were as glued to their screens as ever, but with the advances of virtual reality, many now chose to spend all their free hours in a fantasy world. Marriage and birthrates had plummeted to catastrophic levels across much of the globe.

Yet most people couldn't imagine living as those in my country did. They were incredulous that computers weren't allowed in the home here. The machines could be accessed at libraries, but their usage was strictly monitored. The cell phones we had were antiquated, capable only of placing and receiving calls and brief text messages.

Our reputation as modern-day Luddites was well earned, but our government didn't shun all science and technology. No, they used plenty of it in developing the plan they implemented for the country several years ago. Marriage and birth rates, while much higher here than they were for most other countries, remained stubbornly stagnant. The issue was a grave concern for government officials, and so they turned to cutting-edge research to alleviate the problem.

I could easily remember my parents accompanying me to a medical facility soon after my nineteenth birthday. All citizens between the ages of eighteen and thirty-four were required to do so. "It's the law now," my father told me. Because neither he nor my mother seemed concerned, I wasn't, either.

I underwent a battery of tests at that facility; for much of the day, I was poked and prodded, and I had to give numerous biological samples. I also endured exhaustive psychological testing. But once it was over and I returned to my studies at the local university, I didn't give it much thought. 

It was only after my college graduation three months ago that I was again summoned to that same austere facility. A scientist with a string of letters after her name invited me into her office, where she informed me that based on my previous testing, the government had found a suitable partner for me. Looking over my file, she practically beamed. "Your compatibility rate is extremely high: almost ninety-nine percent!" Flashing that winning smile in my direction, she added, "Very little room for discord there." 

She went on to tell me about my future partner. His name was Brandon, and at thirty-two, he was ten years my senior. He lived several hours away and worked as a nurse at the regional hospital. I would be expected to move to his city. "The degree you've earned in Education will ensure you're employed right away," she said.

I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. It was as if my brain refused to process her words. Of course, I'd heard the rumors about arranged marriage; we all had. But even if it did occur, the phenomenon wasn't widespread. At least, it hadn't been when I was still in school. Apparently, the government had accelerated its matchmaking efforts.

"How in the world can you determine a compatible partner for me based on some tests I took years ago?" I managed to sputter.

The scientist regarded me with a patient stare. Clearly, she'd had this conversation many times before. Leaning toward me, she acted as if she was about to divulge a closely guarded secret. "Mostly, it comes down to your microbiome. And his."

"My what?" 

"I'm sure you're aware that there are as many bacterial cells as human cells in your body, and they have the ability to influence you in all sorts of ways." She spoke as if she was reciting from a memorized script. "For a long time, it was believed that those bacterial cells primarily affected us on a physical level, but it turns out that they influence our thought processes and emotions as well. And the results of our tests show that Brandon's microbiome is extremely compatible with yours."

"That sounds..." I shook my head helplessly. "Absolutely crazy."

"I assure you, this is all science-based. Of course, we did administer psychological testing, and we also determined the pheromones you're most responsive to. Again, Brandon is the winner." Before I could reply, she rushed on. "Now that I've given you the good news, you have a lot to prepare for, Alissa! You have a big move and a new job to look forward to. And most exciting of all, you'll be getting married!"

She was already pushing back her chair, ready to dismiss me. "But what if I don't want to marry him?" I blurted out. "I have a boyfriend already! We were planning to get married in a couple of years. Have you tested him? I'm sure we're even more compatible! His name is Kai—"

Her smile tightened into a grimace. "I'm afraid I can't discuss anyone else's test results with you. But based on the data we currently have, I can guarantee Brandon is your most compatible match." Opening the office door, she continued in a breezy tone, "You can't go wrong with him."

I stayed glued to my chair, determined not to budge. "And if I say no?"

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" All the warmth vanished from her expression. "He's your ideal mate. And your refusal to marry him would result in your expulsion from the country."

All the blood drained from my face. The thought of being sent away with no financial resources, and no ability to navigate the advanced technology in use throughout much of the world, was enough to fill me with terror. Expulsion was equivalent to a death sentence. 

As the scientist escorted me back to the building's reception area, she again leaned close. "I'm not supposed to tell you this," she whispered, "but you should know just how lucky you are. Brandon is successful in his career; he's dedicated and hardworking. Not only will he make an excellent husband, but he'll be a wonderful father as well. Because he's lived in this country for so many years, the level of microplastics in his body is very low. And that results in a much higher sperm count. Seeing as how your hormone levels indicate optimal fertility, I'm certain you'll be pregnant in no time."

Upon hearing those words, my world crumbled. I couldn't care less about my "ideal mate," and the realization that I'd soon be torn away from Kai made me want to break down sobbing. 

My parents were elated upon learning about my husband-to-be; they couldn't understand my despair. I was permitted only a few moments to say a final, agonizing goodbye to Kai, my first and only love. Through tears, he pretended to be happy for me.

I didn't know what to expect from my first meeting with Brandon. Would I be so overwhelmed by his intoxicating pheromones that I swooned at his feet? Would I instantly fall in love?

It turned out that I felt absolutely nothing. Even as he rushed toward me at the station, where he'd been awaiting my arrival, and even as he cupped my face in his hands and said, "I've been dreaming of you for so long," he remained a mere stranger.

I couldn't deny that he was attractive. With short dark hair and a neat beard, he had gorgeous brown eyes. When he wasn't working, he was usually out hiking in the massive nature preserve or helping out in the community garden, so his frame was strong and muscular. But to me, he was like all the other attractive men I'd briefly admired and then forgotten about. Because he wasn't Kai.

My brown hair fell past my shoulders, and I had large blue eyes. I was often described as cute, but Brandon gazed at me like I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Our perfect match was clearly one-sided. 

We were quickly married in a civil ceremony with little fanfare. Our vows were no longer to love, honor, and cherish, but rather to be steadfast, patient, and committed. My new husband fulfilled his promise to be patient on our wedding night, when I told him I wasn't ready for sex. "I know it's all overwhelming," Brandon had said to me. "So much in your life has changed, so quickly. It might take time for your true feelings to emerge."

But instead of my heartbreak lessening, it only grew worse. Though I missed Kai terribly, I wasn't allowed to communicate with him in any way. Fighting back the wave of depression threatening to inundate me, I rebuffed Brandon's tentative advances night after night. And night after night, our neighbors continued to fuck like rabbits.

As I now lay staring at Brandon's back, I felt a rush of guilt. His sexual frustration had to be maddening by this point. Sometimes, I caught him looking at me with such fierce desire that it made my pulse quicken. I realized we couldn't go on living like roommates when I was his wife.

Gingerly, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know I haven't been what you want."

Brandon turned to me again, then reached for my hand. "You're everything I want, Alissa. I fell in love with you the moment we met." More to himself than to me, he added, "The science can't be wrong. You'll eventually feel the same about me."

I feared I never would, but I also realized it was vital to pretend I did. "I'm... willing to try. Tonight," I told him.

He brought my hand to his lips, planting a kiss on my palm. "Not until you're ready." I could sense him carefully choosing his next words. "Is it because you're a virgin?" he finally dared to ask.

In a month of marriage, we hadn't discussed such intimate things. Instead, we stuck to safe topics like hobbies and my new teaching job. Brandon had no knowledge of my sexual history, just as I had no knowledge of his. 

"I'm not a virgin," I revealed. The marathon sex session had finally ended in the bedroom next to ours, and my voice now sounded too loud in the sudden quiet. When Brandon didn't respond, I went on in a quieter tone. "My boyfriend—I mean, my former boyfriend—he and I had sex a few times, but we didn't enjoy it."

"Why not?" Brandon asked softly.

"I'm pretty sure he's asexual, so he didn't really get any pleasure out of it. And because he didn't, I didn't, either." I allowed my thoughts to linger on Kai. He was so romantic and affectionate in other ways, and I'd told myself I could live without sex if it meant being with him. And we were happy. Astonishingly happy. I wondered if he would ever be successfully matched with someone else. Due to his lack of interest in sex, maybe the scientists wouldn't even try. Maybe he would be forced to spend his life alone, while I would have gladly spent all my days with him.

"And what about you?" Brandon asked. Though he still sounded calm, there was no mistaking the edge of concern in his question. "Do you think you might be asexual?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "I have... desires. It's just that I was willing to set them aside because..." I fell silent, helpless as to how to explain.

"Because you loved him," Brandon said. "You still love him."

A knot of tears lodged in my throat, preventing me from speaking.

"I'm sorry, Alissa," he sighed. Then he let go of my hand.

In the morning, Brandon got up extra early, well before dawn. I knew he was going for a run. By the time I rose from the bed, he would be finished showring, and the single bathroom in our apartment would be free for me to use. 

I drifted back to sleep, waking only when the alarm clock sounded. Sitting up, I realized the shower was still running. The sound quickly drew me out of bed, and I made my way to the bathroom. Its door was slightly ajar. A cloud of humid air enveloped me as I stepped into the room. 

I was about to remind Brandon of the time. It wasn't like him to run late. But through the shower's glass door, I could see my husband standing under the spray. His form was blurry, yet I was able to easily discern the rhythmic movement of his hand while he stroked his cock. I was sure I heard the faintest moan escape him. 

For several moments, I simply stood there and watched. It didn't take long for my body to respond to the sight of Brandon giving himself pleasure. When a faint but insistent throbbing began between my thighs, I pulled my nightshirt over my head and then removed my panties. I realized I was trembling as I approached the shower and reached to open the glass door.

Brandon spun around to face me, his erection straining out from him. His face revealed his surprise, and perhaps a flicker of embarrassment. But then his gaze swept over my naked body. Never had he seen me completely undressed, not even on our wedding night. I almost giggled when his cock fiercely twitched. 

"You're wasting water," I chided him with a grin. 

He flashed a sheepish smile. "I was almost finished." His stare dropped to his hard dick. 

"Well, since I interrupted you, I should provide some assistance with that, don't you think?" My voice was low and seductive; it sounded like a stranger's. 

Brandon snapped his head up, his eyes widening a little. "I would love that, Alissa."

I moved to join him. The shower was small, but Brandon quickly made room for me. All the while, he drank in the sight of my naked body. My breasts weren't all that large, and even without a bra supporting them, they remained firm, with their pink nipples pointing toward Brandon. My pubic area was shaved smooth, revealing my plump outer labia.

In the cramped space, my husband and I stood mere inches from each other. I kept my back to the shower's spray, while he positioned himself in front of me. My heart beat so hard and fast that it made me feel a bit lightheaded. Yet I quickly reached to lather my hands with some soap. 

My touch was tentative when I first started stroking Brandon's cock. A louder moan emerged from his throat, and I saw his chest rise and fall with his quickened breaths. "Oh, that's nice!" 

My hand effortlessly glided over his slick skin. He was so hard in my grasp! Beneath my fingers, I felt the prominent veins lining his shaft. When our eyes met, I offered Brandon a smile.

"Do you enjoy this?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. I did enjoy it, I realized. I wanted to please him. And I was clearly doing a good job of it, for he eagerly watched me jerking him off. With my free hand, I cupped his heavy balls. His stare grew even hotter while I fondled him.

"Can I touch you?" His question held a pleading note. 

Again, I nodded, and he immediately lifted his hand to my breast. A rush of hot lust surged through me when he rolled my nipple between his fingertips, giving it the gentlest tug. Soon, I was breathing just as fast as he was.

Brandon let his head fall back, his eyes briefly closing as he delighted in my touch. "Faster," he urged. "Ah, just like that!"

My hand was pumping away at a furious speed. I loved the sound of my soapy skin gliding over his. He wove his fingers through my hair, easing my head back. Then, he lowered his lips to mine.

It was the first kiss we'd shared since the chaste peck he'd given me at our wedding ceremony. I sensed he was still holding back, trying to contain his desperate need, for his mouth was exquisitely tender. 

"You're gonna make me come!" he murmured against my lips. "Don't stop! Oh, fuck!" 

By now, he was so close to me that his erection was nestled between us, pointing upward. I felt the shudder travel through him, and his cock pulsed in my hand. The first spurt of semen landed on my stomach, just below my right breast. I gasped as it struck my skin, but my hand never slowed. Brandon let out a labored groan when more cum spattered against my torso. 

My stare was riveted to his cock. Circling my fingers around the tip, I squeezed gently, as if to milk it of even more seed. That drew a helpless cry from Brandon's lips. When a large creamy drop emerged, I smeared it over his skin, making him shiver.

"You've drained me dry, sweetheart." His eyes were full of such gratitude that it made my chest ache. "Thank you for helping me out," he added softly.

I ducked my head, smiling shyly. Once we'd switched places in the shower, he rinsed off a final time before telling me, "Shower's all yours. I've got to run, or I'll be late." His gaze drifted over my stomach, which was still covered in his semen. The sight made him grin. Leaning forward, he planted a kiss on my damp hair. "I hope you have a wonderful day, Alissa. Mine is certainly off to a great start!"

After he'd left the bathroom, I hurried to shower, for the water had turned tepid. I could hear him whistling while he finished getting ready. If he rushed, he could make it to the stop in time. Almost everyone traveled by public transport here. 

A little later, I was about to head out the door when I glanced at the small balcony off our living room. The sight of my geraniums, drooping in the morning sun, reminded me they needed watering. With a sigh, I rushed outside and grabbed the watering can.

"Hey, neighbor!" a cheerful voice called to me.

Looking over, I spotted Whitney on her balcony. Tossing her honey blonde hair over her shoulder, she smiled and waved. "Good morning," I said, forcing my own smile. I'd met her and Banks a couple of times since moving here, but we remained mere acquaintances. 

"Hope we didn't keep you two up last night," she said in a lower voice. "I know we can get a little loud."

I laughed in an effort to hide my discomfort. "Oh, it's fine." Turning my attention to the flowers, I started watering them and hoped Whitney would sense that I wasn't in the mood for a lengthy conversation.

"We never hear a peep from you and Brandon, though," she went on. My sharp glance in her direction didn't seem to faze her in the least, for she added, "You're as quiet as church mice!"

Something in the way she held my stare made me squirm. Christ, was nothing private anymore? I wondered. Was she reporting back to the government about her neighbors' sex lives?

"Have a good day," I told her before ducking back inside and closing the door. Though I tried to shake off my unease as I made my way out of the apartment and down the street, her comment, so deceptively casual, seemed to follow me. 

I'd taken an important step by joining Brandon in the shower this morning, I told myself. But I obviously needed to do far more. And soon.