“Can I help you?” I ask, thankful my voice doesn’t waver.“Good morning, Natalie,” he says, holding out a perfect hand. His nails are trimmed... the cuticles neat. His fingers are long, warm as he clasps my hand. “I’m Lucian Martinus.”“Good morning, L. Martinus,” I say returning the greeting in a more socially acceptable form. We are all equal under the government’s benevolent eye. Titles and first names are impolite gender conventions.His voice is vaguely familiar, but my head is muzzy; too. My BIL still held my face firmly with his palms and we were looking into each other’s eyes and we were now having our ride in heaven. The room was filled with the smell of our sweat, the slurp slurp noise due to my love juices and the pumping of penis into my pussy and my moans which had turned louder and louder now. I was with my mouth open and just moaning aaaaaahhhhhhhhh aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh and after 15 minutes of our lovely ride. More

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