I'd like to say these stories are autobiography, and in a sensethey are. Some of what I'm writing about actually occurred, and much is extendedby my h...rny imagination. But then, I think autobiography is, really, fictionin the first person, based on the author's life. Who really can tell the wholetruth? Like I said, I wish this were even closer to an objective recountingof events than it is, but the embellishments, I hope, are what makes it interesting;and all of it is completely true to my. “Thanks for everything! Do you know how to get back?”“I have a map in my pocket, but it seems simple enough and should take about an hour.”“Would you want to have dinner tomorrow?” she asked.“Sure,” I said.“I’ll meet you at your hotel, if that’s OK. 6:00pm?”“See you then!”She went into the building and I turned to head back across town. When I arrived at the hotel just under an hour later, I called home.“Hi, Daddy!” Birgit said as soon as she picked up the phone.“Hi, Pumpkin! How did you know. Transportees are frozen, in suspended animation, and only resuscitated when they have been downloaded to the camps on Reno. It was terrible, being frozen, even though they tried not to be cruel. My father, I think, saw to that. First, there were the good-byes, the settlement of debts, the will -- when I left Earth, I would be officially dead. Then came the procedures. They flushed my bowels, which took three days. They removed all my hair, everywhere. I was chemically cleansed,. I began to nuzzle them as she pulled me into them breathing deeply. Deftly I undid her bra and removed it allowing me to feel and bite her erect nipples. She dragged my sweat shirt off and began to rake my back.I warned her about leaving marks but she was getting carried away. I stood her up and her dress fell to the floor leaving her naked apart from her matching briefs. I sat on the stool, settled her bottom on my erction, facing the street, and put my hand ito her panties. Her pussy was.