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She looks over her shoulder. You would have thought they’d have figured out a way by now, equal rights and all… Nobody is perfect,” she says. She looks over her shoulder. I can feel the weight of time itself grinding to a halt, as if the very fabric of time and space has been warped and distorted. “Another succubus to share my space with.” Her eyes refocus on me. Kneeling on her left and right are two young girls who are completely naked. I take a deep breath and run my fingers over her soft skin again, this time tracing the outline of her pussy lips. She hung on for as long as she could, but it’s a terrible disease. “I’m lonely,” she says, her voice tinged with a melancholy that’s at odds with the sultry atmosphere of the room. On the back of it, it just reads, “Ask for M.”