“What shall I wear tonight?” Mai asked, sliding open her wardrobe door and pulling out items at random. A green outline appeared on her smart glasses and the voice in her earbud spoke.

“This one,” the gentle, feminine lilt of the artificial voice said, highlighting a light beige linen dress, sleeveless, with a high neckline and cut to just above the knee.

“Really, Roxane?” she asked, “You don’t think something a little lower cut?”

“No, Mai,” it said calmly, “The dress suits you and Frederick will appreciate something conservative.”

Mai shrugged, but the computer knew best. She pulled the dress out and held it against her, admitting to herself that yes, she did look good in it. A petite Asian figure was still often desirable, even in these modern times, and especially by Western men. It was just a shame that she had not met any she had liked yet. The dress had a quaint retro look to it that made her feel as if she were in a 1950s movie.

It was going to be completely different with Christian, though. She had known him years ago, when she had been at school in Kuala Lumpur. They had talked often after sessions at the pool or at competitions, she diving and he swimming. She had to admit she had never thought anything more of him.

That made it all the more of a surprise when Roxane had brought him up as a potential match on one of the many dating websites she browsed. It wasn’t that she was anxious to meet someone, but her parents were anxious on her behalf and she was beginning to feel pressured. The situation was desperate enough that she had paid for the dating module upgrade for Roxane, on the promise that AI would take all the guesswork out of meeting someone. “Never be stuck for something to say,” was part of the promise, “And never be worried about saying the wrong thing,” was another, because the AI would guide her through what had always been one of the most stressful situations she could ever imagine: the first date.

The problem for Mae, though, was that she wasn’t even sure what she wanted from a relationship. Sure, someone to spend time with might be nice, but she’d never really been interested in sex, even with men she’d found attractive. What happened in her mind was always better, and so between the Internet and her secret cupboard of books she felt her erotic desires were more than satisfied. Or at least, as satisfied as was reasonable to expect. A man hanging wanting intercourse multiple times a week would not be an improvement on that. Maybe she would accept a man who made her feel good about herself, and who looked good himself, but he’d have to know who was in charge. She had little hope of meeting someone acceptable.

She changed into the dress, smoothing it over her slender figure, and slipped into the short, matching beige heels Roxane had told her to wear. She stood in front of the mirror for a second. It was perfect for a job interview, she thought, but she was unsure it was the right thing for a first date. She shrugged: she had paid for Roxane’s upgrade, so she may as well follow its instructions, this time at least.

The table was already laid, formal and precise and so stereotypically Japanese, as Roxane had also instructed. She had asked it where to go for a first date, but it had told her to invite Christian over for dinner. She would never have done so with a stranger, but she had known him when he was a teenager, although they had been out of touch for years. Besides: Roxane had all the info she needed on him.

The last thing she did was take the photo down from the sitting room wall. It was a large, black and white print of a naked man on a sofa. He was a magnificent specimen, she thought; every inch of him was muscle. Well, she could see it wasn’t quite every inch. All but about four inches of him then. Roxane had tried to persuade her to leave it there but there was no way she was having it up on a first date. A fondness for staring at naked men was something she wasn’t willing to share right now.

Three miles away a voice spoke into Christian’s ear.

“White shirt and dark trousers,” it said.

“Are you sure, Cyrano?” he asked, “Not even a splash of colour?”

“No. It has been a long time since you last saw Mae and she has been in Tokyo for much longer than you have. It’s better to dress conservatively, for a first date.”

His heart fluttered. He couldn’t believe he was having an actual date with Mae. He’d had a crush on her when they had competed together, and not only because of her perfect, petite, doll-like figure. She had a pretty smile and eyes that laughed along with her, and a soft voice that he would do anything for. She had never suspected, of course, because he had been too shy to say anything. It made it even more surprising that she had been the one to contact him, but that was increasingly the way in modern Japan. Women did not post public profiles because they gained so much attention, and for many born in the second or third decade of the twenty-first century they often weren’t looking for a partner at all.

Christian buttoned his shirt, put a dark jacket on to match his trousers, slipped his feet into shiny, patent leather shoes and made his way to the self-driving taxi that was waiting for him outside.

Fifteen minutes later he was outside Mae’s apartment with his heart in his mouth.

“Aren’t you going to knock?” Cyrano said in his ear. Like Mae, he’d opted for the dating upgrade to his AI assistant. He hoped it was worth it.

He knocked on the door and waited.

Inside, Mae’s heart jumped at the sound. She was about to run to open it with Roxane spoke in her ear.

“Count to ten,” it said, “And then smile when you open the door.”

She stood and counted before walking to the door and opening it.

“Christian!” she said with a smile that she didn’t have to force. She found herself looking up at a man nearly six inches taller than the one she had known eight years ago, and nearly a whole foot taller than herself.

“Hi, Mae,” Christian said nervously.

“Tell her she looks amazing,” Cyrano said in his ear

“You look great!” he added.

“You look well too,” Mae said, then stepping aside, “Won’t you come in?”

“Take off your shoes,” Cyrano instructed him, “Remember this is a traditional Japanese house.”

It didn’t feel traditional, being twenty-seven floors up and entirely modern, but Christian bent and began to untie his shoelaces.

Mae was about to stop him when Roxane spoke: “Let him, if he wants to.”

Mae was about to say “but I’m wearing my shoes”, and then realised it would be very rude to talk to her AI assistant in front of Christian.

Christian stood upright, wiggling his toes inside his socks.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Mae asked at Roxane’s prompt.

“Is that saké?” Christian asked as the AI assistant put a green outline around the ceramic flask on the table.

“Yes, do you like it?”

“I do!” he said, although he couldn’t completely remember if he did. He’d had it once, he knew, and it had made his head spin.

“So…” Mae said, pouring the rice wine into two small cups.

“Ask him about himself,” Roxane said in her ear.

“What have you been doing for the past… eight years, is it?” Mae continued.

“It is eight years,” Christian confirmed. Eight years that had made Mae even more beautiful than before, he thought. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Tell her about your job,” Cyrano said in his ear.

Christian told Mae about his engineering work, which is why he was in Tokyo, working on new earthquake-proof structures. It always sounded impressive, and it seemed to work.

“Ask her about her work,” Cyrano said, “She’s a surgeon now.”

“And you look like you’re doing well too,” Christian said, sipping from his cup and looking around the room, “You wanted to be a surgeon, didn’t you?”

“Well remembered,” Mae said, “And yes, I got to be a surgeon. It doesn’t pay as well as you might think, but it’s enough, for me at least.”

Christian remembered Mae’s humility was another trait he adored.

They talked for a while longer before Mae suggested they eat.

“Can I take your jacket?” she offered, at Roxane’s prompt. She watched as Christian removed it, broad shoulders ripping beneath his white cotton shirt. He had been well-built for a relatively short sixteen year-old, and he had obviously kept that up since. His shoulders seemed twice as broad as his hips and his shirt stretched over his chest.

She had a traditional style meal planned out, and all prepared and waiting to serve. A small appetizer first, then a little sushi, then sashimi. Then a few vegetables, and finally some miso soup and rice which was kept warm in the kitchen.

“This has been amazing,” Christian said, finishing off the last of the vegetables. He was glad he was well-practised with chopsticks because otherwise a white shirt would have been a big mistake. It was definitely a risk, he thought, starting to doubt Cyrano was quite as clever as the sales pitch had claimed.

“We haven’t finished yet,” Mae said, “I’ll get the miso and rice from the kitchen.”

“Really?” Christian said, secretly glad that there was more to come. The food had tasted good, but he’d been swimming this morning and what he really needed was some carbs to fill him back up.

He watched Mae walk to the kitchen, admiring her sleight figure.

“You’re doing well,” Cyrano said in his ear, “And I think she likes you.”

“How can you tell?” he asked quietly.

“Four billion data points is how,” Cyrano said, and Christian shook himself back to attention as Mae appeared with two bowls of soup.

“Here you-” she started to say, and just as she was about to place the soup bowl on the table in front of Christian a burst of white noise played loudly in her ear. She jumped, and so did the soup, straight towards Christian’s shirt.

Thankfully it wasn’t so hot as to scald, but she stared in horror as the dark stain spread across the front of the white cotton.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, putting her hands to her mouth. There’s no way back from this, she thought to herself. “Let me get you a damp cloth.”

“A damp cloth will be no good,” Roxane said in her ear, “You need to get that out before it stains.”

Mae was about to ask “but how?” before Roxane continued. “Tell him you could put it in the washer.”

“Let me wash it for you,” she said quickly, “I could find you something else…” She tailed off: what could she find him to wear, exactly?

“Take it off,” Cyrano said in Christian’s ear, “Otherwise the stain won’t ever come out.”

“Are you sure?” Christian asked, to both Mae and Cyrano.

“Yes,” Roxane and Cyrano said to their respective hosts.

“Yes,” Mae said a second later, nodding.

Christian began to unbutton his shirt. He was halfway down before he started to feel awkward, especially as Mae was just standing and watching.

“I’ll get some more soup,” she said, shaking her head to break her trance, “And I promise I won’t spill it over you this time.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Are you sure about this?” Christian whispered to Cyrano.

“Absolutely. It’s the only way to stop it from staining.”

“I don’t mean that! I mean sitting here shirtless. It’s only a first date!”

“You two used to swim together, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but…”

Mae reappeared just as Christian finished pulling his shirt down his arms. At the sight of his broad, muscular shoulders she nearly spilled a second bowl of soup, but managed to control herself enough to place the bowl in front of him. His biceps are nearly as big as my waist, she thought to herself.

“Ultrasound and a regular wash will get this out, I’m sure,” she said, taking the shirt to the utility room and placing it inside the half-sized washer.

Her head was spinning when she returned, whether from saké or from the topless man who was sitting at her dining table with chopsticks in his hand.

“You’re still swimming, I guess?” she said, sitting opposite him. He nodded.

“This morning, in fact, so this rice is very welcome. Are you still diving?”

She shook her head.

“Not at all. But I swim sometimes. It’s more fun now, without competition.”

“I agree,” he said, smiling at her as he finished his soup.

“There’s a photo of the two of you on the shelf,” Roxane said in Mae’s ear, “I’m sure Christian would like to see it.”

“Oh, you’ll never guess what I have,” Mae said, springing from her seat and picking up the photo. It was only a regional competition but they had both won gold medals, so the club was eager to take one of the two of them together. She showed it to Christian.

“Remember this?” she asked.

“I do,” he said, staring at the photo of the two of them, Christian in trunks and Mae in a one-piece swimming costume. They were barely sixteen years old, and Christian was only a few inches taller than Mae back then. No wonder she’d never looked twice at him. They had parted ways some months after, just as Christian’s body had started to grow. Mae, on the other hand, had barely changed from the young woman in the photo.

“You still look as good as you did then,” he said without thinking, and then blushed.

“Oh, nicely done,” Cyrano said to him.

Mae smiled and blushed as well and they avoided each others eyes for a few seconds.

“Tell Christian he’s even better built than he was,” Roxane said, and Mae relayed it word-for-word, her face turning red as she spoke.

“I was a lot smaller then,” he said, still looking at the photo.

“You were always muscular,” Mae said, following Roxane’s prompts just a second or two behind, “Just look at those thighs!”

Her face turned as red as she could as she realised what she had said.

“I wish I had a photo like that,” Christian said, handing it back.

“I can make you a copy,” Mae said.

“Better than that,” Roxane said, “You can take an up-to-date one. Of both of you.”

Mae mouthed an “oh”, and then paraphrased: “Or even better, why don’t I take a photo of both of us here? Today? Just in case it’s another eight years.”

Christian’s heart sunk at the thought that the date might not be going as well as he had hoped.

“Not that it has to be,” Mae added hastily, following Roxane’s voice again, “But to celebrate getting back together again.”

“Sure,” Christian said with a grin.

“You’ll have to take your trousers off,” Roxane said.

“What?” Mae said out loud.

“What’s wrong?” Christian repeated.

“I mean…,” Mae began, her cheeks warming once more, “What about if we… pose the same.”

“You mean side-by-side? That’s what I thought you meant.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have swimming trunks, but I’m sure…” She struggled to say the words that Roxane was putting into her mouth, “But I’m sure you’re decent underneath your trousers.”

It was Christian’s turn to blush.

“You mean…” he said, looking down at his trousers. He was already bare to the waist, and Mae was suggesting he take his trousers off for a photo? He felt stirring in his briefs that he hoped wouldn’t show.

“Do it,” Cyrano said in his ear, “It’ll be fun.”

“Uh, okay,” Christian said to both of them.

“Prop your phone up on the shelf,” Roxane told Mae, and she did as she was told as she tried not to watch Christian unfasten his belt, unbutton his trousers and pull them down his legs.

She watched through the screen as one large, muscular thigh at a time filled the viewfinder. He sheepishly rolled up his trousers and put them to one side.

“You look silly with your socks on,” Cyrano said in his ear, and he grudgingly took off one and then the other before standing awkwardly in the middle of the room in black briefs.

“They look just like swimming trunks!” Mae said at Roxane’s instruction.

“But your dress doesn’t look anything like a swimsuit,” Christian said as Mae stood beside him.

“It’ll have to do,” Mae said, before calling across the room. “Roxane! Can you take a few photos please?” She turned to Christian. “Roxane’s my AI assistant.”

“I guessed,” he said, smiling down at the beautiful woman beside him. Her shoulder brushed his arm for a second sending a shiver through him.

“You didn’t need to shout,” Roxane said in Mae’s ear, “I’m right here, you know.”

The camera played the recording of a lens clicking to prove it was taking photos before Mae went and picked it up and showed them to Christian.

“Maybe one day we can do one at the pool,” she suggested. Christian beamed, because if nothing else this meant he would see her again.

“Yes. Let’s,” he said, then putting his hands across his front. He was definitely getting an erection. He sat back at the table, feeling awkward. He wanted to ask Cyrano if he should put his trousers back on but didn’t give away to Mae that he had the secret helper.

“Tell her you feel at a disadvantage,” Cyrano said in Christian’s ear.

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage,” Christian said across the table, and then following Cyrano’s next prompt, “I’m sitting here in my underwear and you’re in a dress and shoes.”

“You want me to take my shoes off?” Mae said, feeling her eyes sparkling as she relayed Roxane’s words. She had to admit the AI was much better at flirting than she was, and also that having Christian sitting here in just a pair of briefs was a lot of fun. She was in no rush to see if his shirt was clean yet. She topped up their saké cups.

“I wasn’t thinking about your shoes,” Christian said, suddenly worried that Cyrano was taking a big risk making him say these kinds of things to Mae. Was this what flirting was supposed to be like? He wondered.

Mae smiled. She didn’t seem offended. She wriggled slightly in her seat and then giggled. She couldn’t believe what Roxane was suggesting.

“How about we play a game,” she said, and then giggled nervously again.

“A game?” Christian asked.

“Rock, paper, scissors. The loser takes something off.”

“But what if I win?” Christian asked. He couldn’t believe Mae was even suggesting it. Neither could Mae. “You take off your….” He eyed her dress and her eyes flashed.

“My shoes, yes,” she said with a laugh, and then putting her chin her hands and looking at him across the table, “But then we might play another round.”

“Oh,” he mouthed, and then: “But what if I lose?”

“Then… game over, I guess?”

“Don’t worry,” Cyrano said in his ear, “I’ve been studying Mae. She’s rock through and through. You go paper and you can’t lose.”

“You sure?” Christian asked both of them. Mae nodded and Cyrano said: “Absolutely.”

“Um… okay then,” Christian said, and Mae felt her heart speed up.

“Do scissors,” Roxane said in her ear.

“Ready?” Mae asked Christian. He nodded. “On the count of… one… two… three!”

Mae held out scissors. Christian held out paper.

“I thought I couldn’t lose!” he said out loud.

“This isn’t losing,” Cyrano said in his ear.

“Well, you did lose,” Mae said, tilting her head to one hand, “So….”

Christian took a deep breath, put his hands in his waistband, lifted his buttocks and slid his underwear down his legs. He held it out to one side for Mae to see before dropping his last item of clothing on the floor. At least beneath the table she wouldn’t see his erection.

“So… another round?” he suggested. Mae shook her head.

“You’ve got nothing left to lose,” she said coyly.

Christian’s cock was throbbing and his pulse was racing, and his heart was in love.

“Except…” Roxane said to Mae.

“Except…” Mae echoed, and then giggled again as she listened and then took a pen and paper and scribbled something before sliding it over to Christian.

He read it out loud: “I promise to do anything and everything Mae asks of me and expect nothing in return.”

He looked up at her and she held out her hand.

“On the count of three?” she prompted

“No need,” he said with a smile, before picking up the pen and signing, “You win.”

Mae grinned.

“Good, now stand up. I want some photos.”

Maybe Christian could fit into her life after all, she thought to herself, and then found herself staring as he stood. He really did look as if every inch of him was muscle.

She smiled to herself as she wondered what it would feel like to touch. Well, she thought, not on a first date. Tonight was just about getting to know each other.