I moved my hands down, palms gliding over her glossy skin, she shivered as my fingertips grazed the dimple that ran down her spine, moving towards her...haunches and past her dorsal muscles. I massaged her lower back, her tail curled and uncurled as I rubbed, I snuck a few squeezes of her firm butt. If I had a coin on me, I might have tried to see if it would bounce. She grumbled knowingly, and I moved back up, pushing through her fat to reach her steely tendons. I continued my massage, admiring. One female of them talked at a man holding a black boxy object like she was giving a history lesson. A fair looking woman with her odd suit like clothes holding a black stick in front of her face. Now 200 years later his eyes finally opened. The beach his body was buried on look the same. However the air felt different. The sun was a tad higher then it used to be. The moon farther then before.He knew he died. He knew he was no longer human for his flesh was rotten but not gone. His stomach was. The man didn’t smile; instead, he looked me over thoroughly. Finally, he held my gaze for a very long moment and said he agreed: a fine cigar enjoyed by a stunning woman was a sight to behold. The woman gave him a lethal look. I placed a second napkin between their drinks, and then got up and left quickly, thinking that I was going to get kicked out of there. Well, not before I made it up to the balcony for a few minutes. I stopped in the ladies room to compose myself; I was hyper nervous – yet. “Hmm?” Joe turns to see a Concierge behind a desk.“Joseph McEwan to see Innocenzio Di Cesaris from Cassini SpA at 11 am.”The Concierge glances at a PC screen which catalogues the visitors expected at the Institute that morning.“Yes! Mr McEwan. Mr Di Cesaris is waiting for you.” She motions to a man seated in a small group of chairs nearby. The man glances up at the sound of his name, sees Joe, and rises to his feet, smiling. He walks over, hand out-stretched and asks, in good but accented.