’ ‘We don’t need her.’ An energy blast. A Klingon disruptor, set on maximum. No. ‘And this one?’ ‘Tactical Officer.’ ‘Take him along...’ ‘And this one?’ ‘Navigator.’ ‘We don’t need him.’ Mother’s Cubs, no- no, please- Another disruptor blast. Hrelle struggled to rise, to speak, to plead, to distract them from their work. He had to stop them! He had to do something! ‘And this pretty thing?’ ‘Mmm… Communications Officer.’ A pause. ‘Take her along.’ ‘And him?’ ‘He’s dead, whoever he is. Neck’s. “I think they look great. You’d never know they weren’t real.”Becky smiled in approval and got into the tub. She set her glass aside and moved towards the brunette. “Here, feel em. That’s the real test.” She reached out and grabbed one of Chelle’s hands before putting it on her left tit. A little stunned, but emboldened by the wine, she gave the breast a good caress. It did indeed feel quite natural. She brought her other hand up to the right breast and gave them a squeeze. For a moment, she. “She’s pretty weird...but freaky? I don’t think so. Anybody heard anything bad about her?”The answer to that was, “She’s got three kids.”“They running wild?” Hopeful...not a complaint. Wild kids need control.“Hell no. The damn girl is a freakin’ genius. She was down at Bozeman...college at 16. The oldest boy stayed in Wyoming.”“How about the one at home? Pot smoker? Drinker?”“Skate board and snowboard.”“Well...that’s disreputable enough. Ought to be a law.” He was a skier.“So...we’re in. She could smell her own body with its creamy fragrance of makeup and her natural body oils. A chair screaked and she heard the sound of someone standing. Footsteps approached from her front and stopped, she guessed, about arms reach away. A small air movement felt on her chest preceded a hand, palms and fingers, touching the top slope of her right breast, sliding down and around the outside to come underneath. The palm cradled and lifted her mound and a thumb circled her enlarged made-up.