She had a heavy accent. At times it was hard to understand her. I do understand when she asks if I want a dance, and I say yes. We stand together and ...he grabs my hand and leads me to a secluded place in the club. I sit down and before I get settled she's dropped her top. She leans into me pushing her sexy body against mine. She straddles me and begins to grind her crotch against mine. Even through my pants I can feel the warmth coming from her pussy. As I think about the warm pussy under her. Several weeks went by and she started to go out again, carefully avoiding her little hideaway bar and most of the all the Garden District. Although she vaguely remembered where he lived, she had no intention of going near the place.The worst thing was that she couldn't tell her friends about it. First, she doubted anyone would believe her, especially that bitch Julie. And second, if they did, they'd urge her to report him or something.Instead she endured another type of pain as they told her. ‘I’ll call you ‘darling’ and boast to the wives that you’re good in bed,’ she said, clearly having trouble maintaining a straight face. ‘Good in bed? You can do better than that. How about describing me as the best you’ve ever had, regardless of which room we’re in?’ ‘Let’s not carry this too far. You’ll have every female in your office hitting on you tomorrow.’ ‘I don’t think so. Remember, I’m soured on all women. That’s the image I’ve projected since I started work.’ ‘I want to hear more. Enhanced military grade sensors. My neural activity detector pinpointed a survivor in a rescue bubble, a tough fabric sphere three feet in diameter, a poor man's space suit. It took me a few more moments to close in on the survival bubble, snag it with my repair drone, and pull it into my cargo compartment. Then I raced for the Lightning Bolt. Survival bubbles had a maximum duration of only 180 minutes if the owners did all their required upkeep.The person inside was naked and very hairy. I.