Forever Yours
8
Impatience
HENRY PULLED UP to the residence hall where Carol was waiting for him Friday afternoon. He put her bag in the back of the car and kissed her before opening the door for her.
“We’re off!” he said when he started the car and pulled away from the curb.
“I can’t believe I’m going off on a dirty weekend,” Carol said as she reached across to put her hand on Henry’s leg.
“I have never heard it put that way,” he laughed. “How about a romantic weekend retreat?”
“That does sound more… romantic. Um… We don’t have to spend all our time in bed, do we?”
“I have no idea what there is to do in Youngstown, but I certainly hope we’ll be able to find something else to do. I’m a teenager, but I’m not a superman when it comes to being a lover,” Henry said.
“Oh, thank God. I haven’t had sex since high school got out in the spring. I don’t want to be too sore to walk when we get to Cleveland.”
“Hon, we’ll take however much time we need and do whatever feels right to do,” Henry reassured her, patting her hand, still on his leg.
“So, what’s the dream, Henry?” Carol said. “Um… I don’t mean about screwing all weekend. I mean for life. What do you really want to be when you grow up?”
“The life dream?”
“Yeah. Like I really want to be a doctor and practice women’s medicine.”
“You mean like gynecology?”
“There are other parts of women,” Carol snorted. “I just think women need to be tended by people who don’t see all their problems as hysteria and the solution to be an orgasm.”
“That’s pretty eighteenth century.”
“Well, we’ve been regressing as fast as possible.”
“Okay. Well, I want to conquer AI. I want to be the one who creates applications that are needed and uses AI to accomplish it. All the major research is toward how to get a general AI and once the tool is there, then they go hunting for a use for it. I’ve got some ideas for solving some real problems that I think would be better if there was a degree of artificial intelligence used in the process.”
“Will AI become truly intelligent?”
“Not in my opinion. AI depends on processing power to arrive at solutions, not on creativity. But real intelligence—human intelligence—doesn’t require massive amounts of processing power. It involves the creative instinct to leap beyond the available data.”
“How are you going to go about it? I mean, becoming a doctor has a series of well-defined steps. Degree. Medical school. Internship. Residency. General practice. What are the steps to becoming an AI developer?”
“Not as clearly defined,” Henry said. “I’m already an AI developer. I have two copyrights and three patents pending. And I’m hoping to file a couple more by the end of the year. The big question is how to make it successful. That’s not something one person can do. I have three partners and we are all working toward having a corporation set up and funded by the time we’re out of college.”
“Wow! Fast!”
“In some things, I’m not a very patient guy. I want to see some of my solutions being used by the public. On the other hand, if we need all weekend just to get to know each other without actually having sex, I’m in. It’s just in my career and development that I’m impatient.”
“So, in four years, you expect to have your degree and your corporation set up and funded so you can start selling your solutions?”
“Three years. I’m taking every class I can fit into my schedule to accelerate my degree. Which is why the rest of my ‘free time’ for the fall break will be spent writing code.”
“A new application?”
“This time, I’m setting up the server to host our company so the four of us partners can work together in a secure environment. None of our email, for example, will be stored on a hosting site. It will all be on our own server and connected through a virtual private network. Do you want to tell me about ovaries now? Because getting any deeper into what I’m doing is about as interesting as dissecting a single aspect of medicine.”
“People do that, you know, but we should be able to enjoy our weekend without boring each other to tears with minutiae,” Carol said. “That being said, you provided just enough that it was interesting even if I didn’t understand half the terms you were using.”
“In an ideal world, no one has to understand the terms to use the product.”
“So, in that ideal world, what happens when you create the perfect AI? What will become of Henry Pascal?”
“I suppose I’ll die,” he said, reaching down to give her hand a squeeze. She still didn’t remove it from his leg.
“What? No retirement plans?”
“Do you know anyone our age with retirement plans?”
“Sort of. I want to retire when I’m young enough to enjoy life, but too old to have children. Then I want a beach home—say Malibu—convenient to the local golf club. And I guess, around then, I’ll be interested in having companionship from a nice guy—or a girl if it’s better—who wants to wake up next to me each morning as we grow old.”
“Hmm. I think I’d like to have children one day,” Henry said. “That assumes that I find a wife, since I don’t think I can bear them, and it also assumes that the world starts getting better instead of continuing a desperate downward spiral. I’d be pretty cognizant of the kind of world I was bringing kids into.”
“You’ve left the door open. I’m thinking of slamming it closed. Going into women’s medicine is a last-ditch effort to improve things. It’s really comforting the downtrodden and pointing out that the world sucks, so she doesn’t have to.”
Henry laughed at the double entendre. It was amazing they were nearly to Youngstown already. He checked his GPS for the exit number.
“Do you want to head straight to the hotel and check in, or go out to have some dinner first. It’s almost six. Dinner has less pressure than going to our room.”
“It seems that way. Mostly because when we get to the room, I don’t think I’m going to want to leave it for such a minor thing as eating,” she laughed. “So, let’s do dinner and then go test out the room to be sure it is suitable for our weekend plans.”
Henry had chosen a suites hotel near the freeway. Carol found an unassuming family restaurant nearby. After a light dinner, they stopped at a QuickStop and picked up a few snacks and soft drinks.
“Um… condoms?” Carol asked.
“I came prepared this time.”
“Thank you! That makes me feel better already,” she smiled.
They checked into the hotel and made their way down a quiet corridor to their room. Henry opened the door and held it for her.
“Henry, this is really nice!” Carol said.
“You didn’t really think I’d take you to a Motel 6, did you?”
“No, but there are probably things that would fall between that and this. I didn’t mean for you to break the bank.”
“I’d like to go on and on about how nothing is too good for you, but the truth is that I found a good deal on the room, so spending a couple of nights here is quite promising,” he said.
“Definitely. Um… Before we do anything else, could we spend some time just kissing and making out? I mean before we lose all our clothes and jump into bed.”
“You are definitely my kind of girl, Carol. I hate to rush things. And look! Over on the other side of the divider, there’s a nice sofa and a TV.”
“I don’t care about the TV. I mean, I’m not kidding anyone about why we’re here. I’d just like to get warmed up first.”
They got their shoes off, used the bathroom, and settled onto the sofa. Henry sat and Carol laid back in his arms and looked up at him.
“This is nice. You know I could never do this if I didn’t like you, Henry. I don’t even know what possessed me to check you into my room at the golf tournament. That was really unlike me. I’m glad I did, though. It’s been fun talking to you and I know it’s fun kissing you, too.”
They started kissing with little kisses at first before seriously locking lips and exploring each other’s mouths.
“Mmm. I like kissing you, Carol.”
“You’re a great kisser. Let’s do it some more.”
They went back to kissing and somewhere along the line their hands got in on the action. Carol worked the buttons on his shirt open and Henry caressed her breasts.
“If you wear a shirt with buttons tomorrow, I might not be able to restrain myself from just ripping it open and having the buttons fly all over the room,” she murmured as they kissed some more.
“Hmm. I have a western shirt. You know, with the yoke front. A conservative one, not a line dancing shirt. But it does have snaps down the front. I hear girls like them because they can rip them open without having to sew all the buttons on again.”
“That’s a positive. There’s something appealing about having the buttons flying all over the room, though.”
“Can I pull your sweater off so I don’t get tempted to do any ripping?” he asked.
“Yeah. And take your shirt the rest of the way off. I’d like to feel your skin against mine.”
“This could become one of my favorite feelings in the world,” Henry said, pulling her closer so they were chest to chest and lip to lip.
“Don’t go thinking I don’t want you to pick me up and carry me to bed now,” she murmured as their excitement mounted.
“I’d hate to think we weren’t on the same page about that,” he said.
It was a little awkward standing up from the sofa because of their entangled position, but eventually, he managed to pick her up and carry her around the room divider to the bed, while she did her best to keep her lips and tongue touching his.
Once they’d managed to get the spread off the bed while they were on top of it and get the sheet and blanket turned down, they stretched out and continued making out with more serious intent. They were soon naked. Henry stroked through her wet folds and found her hot button while she stroked his cock.
“Can I go down on you?” he asked, kissing down to her breasts and intending to go further.
“No,” she panted. “I mean, yes, of course, I’d love for you to go down on me, but not yet. Let’s just progress to the old-fashioned way first. I’m really ready for you.”
“I won’t object to that,” he said. He reached for a condom from the pack he’d set on the bedside table.
“That’s a big package,” she sighed.
“You said to bring one or twenty. I don’t expect to use them all, but there are definitely more than one.”
“Believe me, it pays to be prepared.”
She took over rolling the condom on his penis and then swung a leg over his mid-section.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “You’re pretty big and I’d rather be the one controlling the rate of entry and the depth.”
“Believe me, I love looking up at you like this,” he said as she swiped the tip of his cock through her juices and then positioned him for entry.
“It’s been a while since I last did this,” she said. “Oh, God! I think you’re bigger than Bob.”
“Who’s Bob?”
“Battery Operated Boyfriend,” she laughed, sinking a little farther onto him. “I haven’t had a lover in a long time, but I haven’t been going completely without.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Carol, you’re torturing me. This is so good.”
“Yes, keep playing with my breasts. I really like what you’re doing. Yes! With the tongue as well. I’ve got to figure out how to work this into my schedule more often.”
“I agree. Oh! You’re…”
“You’re all the way in, I think. Henry, that’s so good. You stretch me, but it doesn’t hurt. It just feels… fucking fantastic.”
Conversation came to an end. Carol leaned forward and kissed him as she pulsed up and down his cock.
“Babe. I’m not going to last long. You feel so good.”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect to come the first time, but I’m really close. Oh, yeah. Pump into me. This is… so… good!”
They were both caught up in the pinnacle of their orgasms and held each other tightly as they returned to kissing.
They were surprised to find it was only 8:00, but that was the way of first times. They relaxed, talked some more, and then headed back to bed. This time, Henry managed to complete his journey down her body and set about making sure Carol had reached an earth-shaking climax before he was done.
“Oh, God. You must be related to James Bond!” Carol panted.
“What?”
“Moneypenny tells him ‘You always were a cunning linguist.’ I never thought I’d actually meet one.”
“It’s just one of my favorite things,” he said. “I love to give you pleasure.”
“Success! Yeah! Success,” Carol said. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath and I’ll return the favor.”
“You don’t need to. Like I said, I get great pleasure from giving you pleasure.”
“Then wrap it up and stick it in again,” she advised. “After your linguistics, I’m flooding the area. You can slide right in.”
Henry put on a new condom and this time mounted in the more traditional missionary position. Carol welcomed him into her arms and her body. He was also a little slower to reach a peak this time, and she made it to the top before him. The excitement of feeling her orgasm drove him over the edge and he filled the second condom.
They didn’t bother to dress before using the bathroom to brush teeth and get ready for bed. When they did get in bed again, sex was further from their thoughts than it had been. They cuddled together much the way they had during the golf tournament and went to sleep.
“So, what is the meaning of life?” Carol asked on Sunday when they checked out of the hotel and headed the last hour to Cleveland.
They’d spent time on Saturday exploring Youngstown, including the old mill and the art museum. It was the art museum that had inspired the conversation on the meaning of life. One of the exhibits had been labeled ‘Artists, Art, and Meaning.’ They’d begun the conversation Saturday night, but became far too caught up in pleasuring and exploring each other to treat it seriously.
Henry hesitated for a minute before he replied.
“I think we spend too much time searching for that answer,” he said. “Life is the meaning. People try to find meaning in life instead of embracing life as the meaning.”
“I take it you aren’t religious.”
“Not really. Although, maybe that is conditional as well. I don’t look for meaning in religion. I used to, but I lost interest in that. Religion is a bunch of unrelated sayings designed to keep people enslaved to whatever that religion is.”
“But life?”
“You’re born and you die. Between is all the meaning, the reward, and the punishment that you will ever get. I think one of the reasons I’m so impatient to get my software established, have my company up and operating, and push forward with my goals is that the ending chapter could be written at any time. I have something I consider so important that I can’t wait for it.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I’m glad you took a break from it to spend some time with me this weekend,” Carol said, pulling her hand away from its normal resting place on his leg. He reached to put it back.
“Don’t believe that. Being with you this weekend is just as important as any other part of my life. More important than most—say, like golf. That’s something I do to stay fit and healthy and feel like I’m good at something other than coding. But it isn’t more important than anything, really. People are the most important part of life. Not computer code.”
“I’m going to need a while to process that. I can do it, but I want to contemplate it for a while. I’m really more important than your big goals?”
“You know how important? Look in the back seat.”
“Yeah. There’s just a black bag.”
“That black bag is my computer. Have you seen me open it this weekend.”
“No! Henry! That’s so sweet.”
“I might stop someplace on the way back to Pitt tonight and open it to stay up all night, but we need to have a balanced life.”
“How did you arrive at that?”
“My senior lit teacher in high school was really old. As in retirement old. Maybe a long time past. He led a discussion about goals and the creative mind and recited a poem by someone even older who wrote it before World War II. It was by an Indiana radio personality and started out, ‘My life I carry in a leaky pail, and drop by drop my minutes fall upon the sand; fall upon the thirsty sand and disappear. But I must hurry on. My goal lies just ahead.’ It ends up with the guy reaching the end of his life and discovering his goal was a field of bleached bones and he’d wasted his life. I’m a bit of a sentimentalist and I printed out the poem and put it on my bedroom wall to remind me that life is the purpose of living.”
“Henry, sometimes you are so deep. Um… the next exit is ours. I didn’t ask before. Do you want to come in and meet my parents? I promise they won’t assume we are getting married, but they’d probably like to meet you. I didn’t tell them we were leaving campus Friday. They think we just drove up today.”
“It’s up to you, hon. If it’s awkward for you, I’ll just unload your suitcase and give you a kiss goodbye at the car. If you’d rather I gave you that kiss on your front step, I’ll come in and meet your parents.”
“Yeah. Let’s.”
The rest of Henry’s fall break was spent with his head buried in code. Except for the after-school sessions he held for his young golfers. Being with Carol for the weekend had reminded him that his career goals were not all-consuming. Life was for living. Carol was a pretty good reason to take time away.
That being said, getting a company site set up that would enable his partners and him to communicate securely was a top priority. It would also serve as the host for the testers to get the app and to give their feedback.
Following Professor Jacoby’s advice, the testers enrolled by digitally signing a non-disclosure with PRPP LLC. None of the partners were identified. Each tester was given a log-in to the download site that would work just one time. They couldn’t give their log-in to another person, for example, and download another copy of the software.
It seemed like a lot of legal work, and Don Harvey had created the testing non-disclosure. But both Don and Jacoby had impressed the seriousness of Henry maintaining confidentiality—and even a level of secrecy—regarding the project. The bulk of the testers would be recruited by Jacoby. Since most of them would be students in the same department as Henry, it seemed important to keep Henry’s name out of the information they received.
There was the typical threat of dire repercussions if the non-disclosure was violated. Don referred to that as ‘forty lashes with a wet noodle.’ But those who maintained confidentiality and faithfully filled out their reports would be rewarded with a release version of the software to use on their computers.
It seemed fair to most, so the agreements started coming in and by Thanksgiving, the test was in full swing.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
