“Suck my cock,” he commanded.Shirlyn drew in her breath, moistening her lips eagerly as she steppedforward and sank smoothly to her knees ...efore him. He waited, his handslight on his hips. With a soft moan, she unbelted his trousers, flickedthem open, drew down the zipper fly. His trousers peeled open, slid downto his ankles. His enormous, limp cock bounced out and her breath wasalready warm on it. She took it in her slender fingers, jerked ittenderly, felt it quiver and quickly. The more moderately wealthy - but still rich beyond the reach of most of the population - could maybe afford to save up for a designer sleeve, to switch into once their bodies started to fail them. Or they could buy "off-the-rack", living their lives in a succession of "used" sleeves from various sources - people who had elected to move on into VR, convicted criminals, or the desperate, who rented or sold their sleeves to the highest bidder - and once in a while, a designer sleeve that had been. What would it mean? I would get my fantasy. ButI would be my own sister. Would that be weird? Well, like she said, we'djust take over each other's lives. Plus, I'd become two years younger.And get my deepest fantasy in with the bargain."OK Erin. I'm willing to try."Erin beamed the hugest smile I'd ever seen, and hugged me. "Thank youLuke, thank you."*****We were in Erin's room the following night. She had made a mini-Stonehenge type setup with various books and other items - apparentlythey work. When the officers burst out through the access door onto the catwalk, however, there was no one there. No one, that is, except a small white mouse with a strange black pattern around its eyes. None of the officers seemed to notice the mouse sitting in one of the folds of the torch’s flame even though it was giggling softly in a very high-pitched voice.The Naked Joker as the police came to call her, appeared at various spots throughout Las Vegas over the next month, but somehow the police were.
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