Sure enough, she was spread out on the sofa dressed only in a pair of greyboxers and black socks. Her beer gut and breasts were on full display buttha... was Linda. She didn't care about her appearance anymore. SighingRichard grabbed a beer from the fridge and then sat down on the chair nextto the sofa. He placed his feet on the table not bothering to take off hisblack thigh high boots. Richard resisted the urge to poke Linda in thebelly with the heel of his boot as he drunk his beer.After he. In his left hand, he held a Cuban cigar that was one out of a box of fifty a friend of his had smuggled in. In his right hand, he held a glass of Château Margaux. At $1,200 a bottle, he had bought a case. On the table in front of him sat a tray with cheeses and crackers and across from him in the white leather sofa laid Jenny and Julia. Jenny was on top and her pussy hovered just above Julia’s mouth. He watched as Julia licked her friend and it reminded him of a cat drinking milk. Her tongue. Then he moved his tongue to her cunt and began to tongue fuck her tasting the flow of her cum. His fingers rubbed her clit and he could feel it getting very hard and as he squeezed it he felt it pulse along with her cunt muscles. She loved oral sex and loved his tongue in her cunt and he could make her cum for a long long time. With his tongue in her cunt and his fingers squeezing her clit he took his other hand and began to rub her asshole. Then he shoved a finger in it and fucked it. He now. He needed something to grasp, some small bit of a normal life for him to hold onto. He might – just might – be all right if he could only find a single, solitary thing to grasp.“Hermes, I need a place to run,” he started. He’d begin there. He’d begin the reconstruction of his soul with the one normal thing he could control. He’d need his routine, latch onto his routine. It would ground him, anchor him. It would keep him safe while he figured out what the fuck he was doing here.“I am not the AI.