Nope,” she finally said. There’d been a risk of her waking up, but I wasn’t worried—I hadn’t started a hypothetical. Her memories were safe....��Why don’t you want me to fuck you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.“You don’t love me.”“Do you love me?”“No way.”I know it shouldn’t have—I was literally using her as a play-thing and lab rat—but yeah, that stung a little.“Why does it matter if I love you?’“You should only fuck someone if you’re in love.”I paused for a second, before remembering one. The light was on inside, and as I drew closer, I beheld ... well. Quite a spectacle.The computer table faced out into the hall, and my mother's laptop was open and running. And so, for that matter, was she! She wore a hybrid microphone/headphone headset, and nothing else. She had turned the wooden chair around, and through the bars meant to support one's back as they worked, I could see her sex, open and dripping, great puddles forming on the wood between her spraddled legs. Her amazing, full. More

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