I may be paranoid, but Brandon Fitzsimmons knows about the book we're after and who knows what sort of mischief he may be causing. And it wasn't just ...randon we needed to worry about. There was a nun lurking about as well. We arrived at Thun field to find our Gulfstream fueled and ready to go. Our pilots, Joslyn and Lynda were walking about the plane doing their final inspections. Both were wearing slutty stewardess uniforms. Short, blue miniskirts, low cut blouses that left most of their. “You are one sexy woman. A fuckingvision, a walking wet dream.”She said nothing but she ate it up. After a fewseconds of feasting my eyes she reached back and undidthe bra.“Well,” she said rather shakily. “You better pack thisstuff up.”As she removed the bra she brushed her arms across hernipples and shuddered. So did I. Leaving her shirt uparound her neck she reached down and undid the snapson her garter belt, then slowly rolled down thestockings. Next came. They had been since I saw the light in the sky over the campground. I was sure there was no computer adrenaline surges, but I wondered if there wasn't something like it. I felt a familiar sensation surging through my circuits. Damn it, as impossible as it sounded I was horny."Just like with the sense of taste and smell I had receptors built into the channel which discharged the coffee and foods I pretended to eat. Those receptors were there to tell me when I was finished and even what was. You open the last button, and your blouse falls open. You hear gasps from the boys; clearly they like what they see, and in a strange kind of way it makes you proud, being able to turn these you men on like this. “Very nice! Now slowly turn around,” Michael orders you. You do what he wants. Your high heels make turning on the desk treacherous, and you almost stumble a couple of times, which makes your tits sway even more. You have always been a little ashamed of their size, but the boys sure.