Sex machine
Two parts of a living, loving machine assemble in the darkness.
The machine was built for pleasure. Independent of external forces, it rocked and rolled, ebbed and flowed on cushioning foam and silent springs. Touching parts were exquisitely oiled so they moved freely, yet still maintained sufficient contact. A delicious necessary friction. The machine was tireless, drew on an infinite primeval power source. Its cycles were random, yet pre-determined, continually oscillating from fren...