The blonde moans. Not quick enough. xxx sex He loves her, is devoted to her. The body of this blonde, strong, sprinting, big-titted beauty is in heat. If she had enough brains right now to think a thought, she’d be thinking: Never end. Dogs shouldn’t wear clothes, and neither should she. She pushes herself up to her elbows and grips her aerole hard with all of her fingers and PULLS—the noise she makes, it’s nothing people make. I check the monitor to ensure all four digital video cameras—two in the brush, two in the trees—are working. I chipped her, after all, so I can find her no matter where she lives. She remembers, remembers all of it. Buzzing thoughts of an acreage and a milking barn and dozens of tanned, naked, very fit women herded along bubble through my brain. She rounds the corner to the straightaway, her long blonde hair in a tight, braided bun. I admire my star. She’s fallen perfectly in the camera zones—all four of them! Lust. She isn’t injured. Two weeks ago, on a hot, still, and humid day, she ran through a floating cloud of nanites, inhaling deeply as she went. I imagine myself at her door, ringing the bell, and her opening it, seeing me and Arthur. A billion bionanites in the blonde’s body flare to life. He loves her, is devoted to her.
