Care to dance, babe?"Uh oh. 'Babe' and not his usual 'Baby J.' Not a good sign.He cranks the stereo, which blares the opening guitar riff from 'Everyt...ing You Did.'It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I'm in some deep shit. But when in deep anything, keep your mouth shut, so I say not a word and let him spin me in an exaggerated twirl before he pulls me assertively into his arms."What's the matter, babe? You feel pretty tense. Maybe you should lie down for a bit." I don't think--" I. 1 seconds, but you got used to that — so I went and got a coffee.One brief review of the Le Courrier later, I'd learnt not a lot. Well, not from the paper — the guys I was here to drop in on would hardly be seeking publicity for their meeting — but the neural feed kept me constantly updated on activities locally (nothing remotely untoward) and at the target site. Admittedly, the latter carried a constant superliminal note that the 'feed was degraded for operational reasons' which was beginning. ’ ‘Not yet, you’re not,’ Gemma said grimly. ‘And that thing’s halfway through a cycle, by the way.’ She rolled her eyes, closed the dishwasher door and planted the glasses on the draining board. ‘But it’s different this time,’ she said, turning around. ‘Honestly. When I was ten weeks pregnant with Grace, I couldn’t even get up. I used to lie in bed all day holding a bucket under my chin.’ ‘Ooh.’ Gemma’s disapproval evaporated. ‘Maybe you’re having a boy.’ ‘Maybe.’ She smoothed a hand over her. She pulled off, the room air slapping my cock with a chill hand, popping to her feet. I watched as in just 4 or 5 swift, sure moves she shed her pants, shirt, bra and panties. She looked at me looking at her and she grabbed her massive tits, pinching the nipples as she walked towards me, slinking at me like a predator stalking prey. As prey, I was any predator's dream. One look and I was on my back, legs spread. “I've been waiting for you to grow up, Ben,” she said as she leaned her thighs.
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