“That’ll be twenty-five credits each for a total of fifty,” she replied, ducking behind the counter. She reemerged with two cylindrical objects ...n her hands, setting them on the surface. It was a pair of remotes molded from dark plastic, each one sporting a handful of buttons, and a semi-transparent sphere the size of a golf ball on one end.“Here are your controllers,” the employee explained. “This strap fastens around your wrist, please keep it on at all times to avoid damaging the device by. ‘So I shouldn’t bother to give it to you then, huh?’ ‘It would be impolite of me not to accept it, besides I’m hoping you’ll redeem yourself.’ She took out her cell phone. ‘How ’bout we trade?’ ‘Sounds fair…on one condition though.’ Her eyes became inquisitive. ‘I don’t want you calling me three times a day. I like to take things slow.’ ‘It’ll be hard, but I think I can manage,’ she retorted with laughter in her voice. She looked past his arm and he turned to see a young blonde watching them.. Every night she would lock the door, put on her favorite Jimmy Reed album and lie naked on the bed allowing the primal rhythms and sexual lyrics to put her in a near frenzy. Every night she would wrap the blanket around her and let it lightly brush over her young firm breasts just teasing the nipples. She would then wrap the blanket around her in such a way so that it would pass between her young legs and she could press it tight against her womanhood by holding it with her feet. She would. Then suddenly there was the sound of someone knocking on a door."Come in, Mrs Bartholomew," a disembodied male voice, said. Then a few seconds later, "sit down please?"Emily appeared on the screen and sat in the chair. She looked confident but just slightly nervous. Her head turning from side to side, obviously looking at several different people who were also in the room, but out of the camera's field of vision."Emily - you don't mind if I call you Emily, do you?" No, of course not, Mr.
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