She joined me on the wall, as I took a cig out from a full packet she said “Can I have one” I passed her one, then she started talking. She was 20... no job, left school without any qualifications and drifts about day to day. Her mum and dad split up when she was small and her mother has a different bloke on a regular basis, she drinks to blot out her shit life.As she spoke I looked at her, she had dark hair down to her shoulders, she was wearing grey trakkie bottoms, white dirty shoes, a pinkish. At this point it was not necessary, but he lubed up his cock as I got up off my dildo and slowly made way over to him on the couch. I needed his cock in me so bad, but there was still time to tease him once more. When I got to in front of him, I turned around, bent over, spread my cheeks and showed off my tight, yet stretched, asshole for him. He loved it and took his lubed up fingers and inserted them, just to get a taste. It was enough of the foreplay though, and time to get to the main. . no, not gas exactly, the were tiny particles like... dust or... spores. Spores. She knew that now.Finally, the it all made sense. She had eons worth of memories; the biologically-encoded memories of a great race, an ancient race. The body of knowledge that filled her brain overshadowed all ethical, political, or religious beliefs; her race-memory was all. She had awakened at long last from a prison of petty, weak, female morality and anxiety, And she knew what she had to do.Increase.. . “What’s in these casks,” Nash whispered, pointing. Mimi giggled but whispered in reply. “These French oak barriques marked CH are chardonnay and further down you’ll see more marked RCH.” “Reserve chardonnay,” Nash offered. “Oooh, very good, and on our right are our reds. Right beside you is…” Mimi tripped on a thick hose and lost her footing. She twisted and fell with a thump on to the concrete floor. Nash attempted to catch her but was only partly successful in reducing the impact of her.