A Rebirth

Imagine yourself in the distant future….

Mary stepped out of her office, and the door immediately snapped shut behind her.  She handed me the poly covered sheet and plopped down on the couch next to me, revealing her shaved mound under her short skirt.  The advertisement inside was old, which is what Mary liked about it.  Having a historian for a wife can be hard that way.  The caption on the advertisement was simple enough.  ‘Remember when this was the only anti-gravity equipment anyone needed?’  And below that was a picture of what appeared to be a discarded piece of clothing.

“What is it?”  I carefully asked, assuming that she would answer in her ‘isn’t it obvious’ voice.  She didn’t.

“I don’t know.  It’s a page out of a late twentieth century science magazine,” she looked puzzled.

I slid my hand under her skirt.  “And?”

“That’s all I could find.  Almost everything even the least bit suggestive was burned when the morality wars were fought.”  She pulled my hand away from her mound, and toward her left breast.  “We’re lucky to have this much.”

“Looks like some kind of clothing.”

“Yes, but the caption is what puzzles me.”


“They didn’t have anti-gravity then.  That didn’t come along until 2050 after the information meltdown,” she exhaled.  “And how do the two fit together?”  Mary said as she stared at the advertisement.  She’d finally found a puzzle that she couldn’t unravel by herself.  I was honored to be the one she’d come to for help, even if I had no idea what she wanted.

“So, you’re stumped.”

She nodded turning her wide trusting brown eyes on me.  “I hoped maybe you’d have some ideas.”

I took her in my arms, cupping her left breast.  “You’re the historian, lover, I’m just the local businessman trying to sell things that no one seems to want.”  She looked away almost as though tears were welling up in her eyes.  “But I might have an idea that would help.”  I continued.

She looked up at me.  “You do?”  Her ruby red lips pursed as if begging to be kissed.

“I might.”  I said smiling at her enthusiasm.  “Let’s go into my office and see what we can come up with.”

Since both of our offices were just off the living room, it was only a few steps to my workplace.  She allowed my hand to caress her firm behind as we walked.  “The computer replicator, that can’t give me anything new to sell people, should be able to give us a passable replica.”

“And then?”  She leaned over my back letting her breasts settle onto my shoulders as I sat at my desk.

“We do some lab work.”  I said as I placed the advertisement on the scanner.  I looked up and watched Mary blush as the image came up on the screen.  “You asked.”

A mere 10 minutes later we had the item.  It was obvious what part of the anatomy the clothing fit.  Mary was blushing clear to her toes as she turned and pressed the lock code on the outer door.

“Afraid someone will sneak in on us?”

She gave me a dirty look as she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it at me exposing her smooth breasts.  “I don’t suppose you’d care to help.”

“Why certainly.”  I moved behind her as she awkwardly slipped her arms through the holes, and covered each breast with the cups.  She couldn’t get the hook done up in the back, so I did that up, then spun her around.

“Quite modest,” I said as she turned to look in the mirror.

“And it seems awfully restrictive….”

“It looks like something the moralists would wear to bed.”  I said.  “But then, they wanted nothing to do with any sexual organ on the body, and destroyed anything even remotely associated with them.”

Mary wasn’t listening.  She watched in the mirror as she jumped and stretched.  “I think we might just have something here.”

“You’ve figured out what it’s for?” I said, lamenting not being able to watch her breasts bounce and jiggle as she moved.

“Yes, and if I’m right, you should be able to sell more of these than any the rest of the things you’ve tried to sell.”


“The anti-gravity they were talking about is counteracting the gravity that pulls breasts down.  This keeps them up where they’re supposed to be.”

“Isn’t that why you spend an hour in the gym everyday?”

“Yes, and do you know how many women complain about having to do that?”

I slipped behind her and cupped her breasts, then I understood what she was saying.  “You’re right.  It just might work.”

We spent the night experimenting with different styles and results from the replicator and playing with each other along the way, trying to resurrect some of the sexuality that had been taken away from the world.

In the morning with Mary modeling the girl supporter in the advertisement, I put it on the market, and it was a success.

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