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“I definitely feel it. Most of my fatigue is gone, and I’ll be back and fighting quite soon. If anything, I’m starting to feel a bit restless, afraid I’ll get soft if I keep lounging around like a fat cat in front of a fireplace.”

“Hold this,” she said. “I’ll hold your dick.” I have since seen many naked women in person, but Mrs. B. was one of the most memorable. Pure white, lightly freckled skin, perky B-cup tits, trimmed, fiery red pussy hair matching her long, red tresses. “Take a drink,” she invited, smiling warmly at me as she stroked my soapy shaft and played with my balls. The drink was vodka and OJ, strong but not incapacitating. I chugged about half and offered it to Mrs. B. She chugged the rest, set down the cup and returned to playing with my cock and balls.“God, you look beautiful, Mrs. B. So hot.”

“You can thank Shannon for that. She has some kind of miracle gift when it comes to teas and soups. I can’t explain it; she gets the flavoring exactly right every single time.” Sophia giggled and continued drinking. Down the hall, Shannon, who was doing her best not to eavesdrop, blushed and smiled with her ears twitching happily. “As for what you should do, I’d say you’re on the right path already. Like you said before, your literature program has no future without Cyrilo, or you for that matter, so if either of you are imprisoned or executed, your dream of changing the world dies. You truly can help people by bringing about the Age of Information. Don’t throw that away to alleviate your guilt.