He would, of course, say no. Instead, she moaned blissfully, further fueling his desire. His fantasy awakened something inside him. It’s kind of a re-try at my first series The Grateful Virus, but it’s unrelated, a different world with a different guy coincidentally named Jim being bred by a different virus. He had to go, hide, get away. That was nothing. He felt it. Another moment of perfection, pure bliss, accomplishment, completion of his purpose. This was it. She rose and fell in strong, full, luxurious strokes, the sensations absurdly pleasurable. She was clutch, driven to win, a natural predator, and right now she was on a breakaway, the championship-winning goal in her sights, with just one man to beat. She was saying, “knock me up,” over and over again. It wasn’t uncommon to see them out and about in Shanghai, the fashion capital of China. They didn’t seem to be following, but anyway he jumped in a cab, slamming the door behind him, and was soon safely speeding off toward the restaurant.
