You, my love, away on business, and I here with our pets drinking wine, feeling the power of an oncoming storm. Sitting outside staring out, I close m... eyes and imagine you here. The dogs sleep soundly at my feet, as the soft wind blows, a shirt of yours I wear still smells of you. As my hand travels down through my cleavage grasping my breasts massaging them, imagining it is your hand, pinching my nipples as my other hand slowly scratches down my stomach, between my legs. I am already so wet. I grabbed a quick look, leaned over, and whispered to my husband."The guy next to me has his cock out and is jerking off."My husband glanced over and whispered back, "Why don't you help him?"I'm no prude. I've jerked off and fucked more men than most women, but I've never given a hand job to a man I'd never met or seen his face.My hands were shaking, and my stomach was doing somersaults. I wanted to do it but wasn't sure I had the nerve. I started to slide my hand over but quickly pulled it. "Uh..." I began."Don't you see? We'd see our code, our 'This erasure brought to you by Brock' signature, but we'd have no idea what it was talking about ... because in our reality, the cop was never born, so we wouldn't have had to write that code!" I ... I think I see," I said hesitantly. "But if he was never born, then how does the computer remember him?" The computer is insulated from changes in reality, Rick," Brock responded. "It has to be! It wouldn't work otherwise!" So ... it's not time. The joy she felt on the back of the machine was almost visible as we rode. It was a blast. After a couple of hours the tank was getting low so I turned us back and asked if she was getting hungry."What? You're going to feed me? Like a real date?" she teased. "Where ya going to take me?" How about the badest, nastiest, low-life biker bar in town?" I laughed."Icy!" she cooed. "So am I going to see some real bad-ass bikers for actual?" Bad as they come, around here, anyway," I admitted."They have.