Steam filled the enclosure, condensing on the Italian tile and running down the walls in a multitude of tiny rivulets. Moisture was everywhere and the spray was filling the air with a fog so thick it almost obscured the man's erection as she stroked his suds-covered length.

Rebecca didn’t know him. She had met him in this very room in fact, but that didn’t matter much. She had never been shy about sex and if giving her body to him for a couple hours brought her closer to her goal, she was fine with that.

The fact he was paying her upwards of a thousand dollars didn’t hurt either.

“I love that, Becca. You make me so damn hard.”

“You don’t have any problems in that regard, sweetie. Do you know I love the way a man feels in my hand when he gets hard. I love knowing it’s all for me. Oh, fuck!”

Ron, If that was even his real name, moved closer to Becca, easing her against the wall. Becca felt his erection press into her belly, sighing deeply as he brought his lips to her neck. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, causing her hardened nipples to scrape deliciously over his skin.

Sliding her arms up his body, she encircled his neck, bringing his mouth lower until he captured one of her demanding buds between his teeth. His bite was electric, awakening her sex and chiseling away at her resolve not to have him inside her without a condom.

Ron had no such qualms. When his hand began to ease her thigh under his arm, she gasped, forcing herself to stop before she lost control.

“No, Ron, wait. Wait. Not like this. You know the rules, baby. We can’t go bareback.”

The man paused, caught in that nexus between his desire to fuck this young whore and his understanding of why her agency so stringently enforced those rules. Hissing in frustration, he released her thigh as he forced himself back under control. “Yeah, I know. I just hate having to use them.”

Becca felt his erection begin to wane in her hand and squeezed him firmly, pulling on his length until his flagging arousal rekindled in her grip. “I don’t like them either, sweetie, but there’s nothing I can do. We don’t know each other and you want this to be safe for us both, right?”

Becca was grinding into him, purposely keeping a husky, wanton need in her tone that had him raging hard again. “We still have some time left. Why don’t you take me back to bed and let me take good care of you…”

oo0oo

The walk of shame, some woman called it. Becca never really understood that. She saw no reason to feel shame from sex, but going into a man’s hotel room and fucking him for money wasn’t something she had ever thought she’d do either. Now, with the memory of providing a man a chance at her body for nothing more than those ‘thirty pieces of silver’, she more understood why this phrase was used.

Understanding, however, wasn’t the same as feeling it. Rebecca was quite practiced at examining her own feelings and as she exited the double-glass doors of the Washington Plaza, she felt nothing but the warm satisfaction of sex. She had understood from her late teens that she could take pleasure in sex without commitment and that it was an exercise of power.

The power position was usually held by men, but never with Becca. She was precocious in using her sexuality in a manner that she judged liberating, turning the tables on men. It had been the subject of her provocative graduate thesis to explore all of this as being the height of feminism - women taking and using their power rather than being submissive to men. Sometimes she just needed to fuck rather than make love. Sometimes when she wanted something, she could entice and mesmerize men without ever having to bring the seduction to its ultimate conclusion. That was very different from a real relationship and making love. It was also different from being forced to do anything she did not want to do.

This had all crystallized for Becca after the mandatory counseling she received after being caught giving a guy oral sex on her high school grounds.The psychologist was taken with her from the start: her red hair and creamy skin, her voluptuous breasts and long legs and her knowing manner. She saw him struggle to mask the erection she gave him with his notebook as they talked for the first time. That was the lightbulb moment.

She teased and tormented him as he endeavoured to do his job while falling further in her thrall. There had been phone sex initiated by her while he was in his office, culminating in spectacular orgasms she heard with his loud groans. She would then smile to herself and say “until our next appointment”. It went on for months. She chose her clothes carefully when she was to see him, making sure that they were outwardly proper, but easily manipulated to drive him wild. She would pinch her nipples before entering his office so that they would show through her tee shirt. Perhaps wear a skirt that she knew would ride up dangerously high on her thighs when she sat down and then cross and uncross her legs so that he would see her crotch in brightly coloured panties. She turned up and met him in unexpected places. Becca was ingenious in finding ways to tease him in and out of his office. She had made him come countless times before his cock ever penetrated her.

It was this psychologist who had taught her impulse control and how to use her judgement so as not to get into trouble. He had risked his professional licence and his marriage while this went on. Becca had not intended for him to lose either. She just wanted to see what would happen and if she could be in control. His final report was on its face an analysis of her actions and motivations and documented the progress in her understanding of sexuality. It had all been true, but Becca, with the knowledge of what had happened between them laughed when she read it, because it described that perfectly, with language that had a subtext that only she and Dr. Bishop would understand as a different truth of what had in reality happened between them.

Pleased that even after this extreme experience with Ron she was able to keep her professional perspective, Becca pulled her phone from her purse. With a quick touch to the screen, the number she had left queued instantly began to ring. Becca was a reporter for “The Washington Times”, the city’s premier newspaper. She had gone undercover to work in at Dream Girls, a high class brothel/escort agency owned by an organization that had several of them in Washington, New York and LA, places where there was money and power and men who wanted discreet sexual adventures. She had suspected that they were involved in human trafficking and met someone who confirmed that with inside knowledge.

Becca had been sought out by  a young woman, Natasha, who was brought from Russia thinking she would work as a nanny and then get her green card. That had proved to be both naive and optimistic. She had been forced by the owners of the agency to work off her travel costs and more by becoming an escort in their high end brothel with no chance of leaving it. She had escaped and disappeared, changing her look and identity, promising herself that she would expose the whole sordid enterprise and their clientele. Natasha had read the Times daily to improve her English and noticed that Rebecca Weiss was one of its top investigative reporters. The rest, she hoped would make history. WIth Rebecca’s help and talent, she would take them down and free all of the girls they trafficked and held. One of those girls was her younger sister, Oksana, who had followed her to the US before Natasha realized the truth about the job offer.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Becca barely counted one pulse before the anxious voice of her editor, Greg Hamilton,  answered.

“Rebecca, that took forever! Are you alright?”

Smiling, Becca paused on the sidewalk, glancing up the street. “Of course I am, Greg. I’m finished with him now, so you can swing by and pick me up.”

“Fine. But I still think you’re mad for doing this. We can fake your references, Becca. No one expects you to actually turn tricks just to get inside the escort service.”

“And no one has managed to get past their background checks, either, Greg. You know I have to prove I’m an escort to get inside, and to do that I can’t simply fake it. I need to do the job, and I need to do it with men they trust.”

“Yeah, well, you are taking a hell of a risk.”

“Maybe I am. But all things considered, fucking some politician is worth it if I can work my way up the ladder of their clients to the most important ones and then expose both them and the people who run the show.”

Night had fallen and the thin satin of Becca’s dress did little to insulate her against the cool wave of air. Sliding into Greg’s car, she noticed with some amusement the way he steadfastly avoided looking at her legs. She usually dressed quite conservatively at work and this assignment had been the first time she’d revealed her sultry side.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” was all he said when she shut the Audi’s door. His concern was as touching as it was annoying, but Becca opted to take it more as an honest care rather than one of those tacit implications men aimed at the ‘weaker sex’.

“I’m fine. The guy was basically harmless. I left him my new agency card and I’m sure he will ask for me again. A few more tricks like him should get me access to Dreamgirls’ more elite clientele. Once I build some trust. I should have no problem learning how their operation works.”

“Christ, Becca. A few more tricks? Listen to you. You sound like you enjoyed it! How many times do you need to do this?”

Becca actually snorted. “I did enjoy it, Greg. Don’t you usually get off while having sex? And please don’t try to tell me you’ve never had a one night stand. This is no different. You just think it is because I’m a woman, I can’t have sex with someone who means nothing to me. I respond physically, but I have not taken my eye off of my goal here. I will watch, listen, gather information and be alert and aware. I can walk and chew gum at the same time.”

Greg Hamilton was usually a fairly open-minded, progressive man and Becca calmed herself as she remembered he was simply reacting in the way society had him programmed. The classic male view of it being normal for men to screw any woman they could while woman were supposed to be chaste persisted despite the huge strides made in the last fifty years. Who these men were suppose to screw if women didn’t allow it was the laughable hypocrisy of that belief, but Greg couldn’t be blamed for having been brought up in it. She thought that maybe it was that strict Catholic school he had attended that was to blame. Women were madonna's or whores in that context and there was not much room in between the two extremes.

“Okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to stereotype you with convention.”

Accepting his apology, Becca smiled. “It’s fine, really. Just try not to make more out of this than necessary. It’s just sex. I can still remember the real reason I am there.

“Right, I understand. By the way, what has Matthew got to say about this? Or are you planning on keeping it a secret from him?’

Matthew Green was Becca’s boyfriend. He was a constitutional and human rights lawyer in a high profile Washington law firm. She had not given Matthew all of the details about what she was doing, but now realized that he deserved the truth as she would be keeping odd hours and be unavailable in times that they were often together. He was a man with admirable principles, taking on cases regarding voter suppression, civil rights and immigration issues like the separation of immigrant children from their families that had occurred only months ago. Surely he would understand how important this story was.

“I will tell Matthew the truth only keeping details that must be held confidential from him. As a lawyer he should understand that I have to protect my sources and some aspects of the story. Matthew knows that I can compartmentalize things and that this has nothing to do with our relationship. I think I can explain that to him.”

“I hope you’re right. Not every guy is willing to share his lady, regardless of how good the reasoning.”

Rebecca didn’t respond to that. To her, the answer she’d given should suffice. The rest of their drive back to her apartment was more or less in silence. Not so much for any discomfort between them, Becca felt none for what she was doing for the Times, any more than she felt it in regards to her relationship.

What did bother her was whether being in a relationship was what she wanted at all. Matthew was a great guy. Handsome and intelligent, he stimulated her on every important level, but still, something was missing. Up to this night, she wasn’t sure what it was. After her secret tryst with Ron, she understood it was that very excitement she was missing.

Not once since her sexual awakening in high school had she allowed herself to become involved in a committed relationship. She had no fear of commitment herself, but she enjoyed more the variety of lovers her independence granted. Matthew Geen was the first man she even considered taking as her only lover. Now, she began to question just how fulfilled that decision left her.

It was something she needed to consider. Being above all an analytical thinker, she compartmentalized the thought, letting it rest in her mind. After all, she and Matthew were getting along fantastically well, and her current assignment would give her ample opportunities for a change of pace.

Wishing Greg well, she waved him off, feeling quite comfortable with the direction of her career and her life.

“Good evening, Ms. Weiss. Mr. Green arrived at your apartment about an hour ago. I believe he is making you something special. Should I buzz him and let him know you’ll be up?” Ever the gentleman, Randolph had been greeting Becca at her buildings door for the last two years.

Becca returned his smile, stepping out of the cold as he held the door. “No, I think not tonight. I’d like to surprise him.”

“Very well. Have a pleasant evening.”

Even on the most stressful days, Randolph’s jovial formality put her at ease. Now in his late fifties, he had been the concierge in this building for years.

Taking the elevator to the eleventh floor gave Becca time to focus on Matthew and the casual sex she had just had with Ron. She still felt the flush of arousal. Ron had been a decent lover, but the encounter had been anything but satisfying.

Now, with a man she actually cared for taking the time to prepare one of his signature meals, she found herself looking forward to a glass of wine and making love to a man who cared about her.

She was careful to be silent as she entered her apartment. She could her him in the kitchen, chopping away while the mellow notes of Mozart’s Symphony No. 25 played in background.

Becca had always been attracted to older men with refined tastes, and though Matthew wasn’t exactly middle aged at 36, he was still eight years her senior.

Coming up behind him, she stopped at the entry to the kitchen, watching with kind amusement as he attacked the celery with the flair of orchestral conductor. The knife rose, swirling in the air in concert with the music. She waited, allowing him to continue and marveling at how he managed timing his cutlery with the piece. Only once the notes had died away, were the the final cuts complete.

“Bravo, Maestro! That was magnificent,” she clapped, finally revealing her presence.

She had to admit, he was adorable, and his humble bow was the perfect response.

I’m glad you are home, Becca. I’ve got a bottle of your favorite pinot on ice. It should be the perfect foil for the clam sauce tonight.”

Flashing the knife like a master fencer, he emphasized the word, foil, drawing yet another laugh from Becca.

Becca sipped into his ams, kissing him lightly. “Wonderful. Mind if I open it now?”

“I was hoping you would. Dinner won’t be ready for a little while yet.”

Becca noted his gaze following her and walked with a sexy saunter to the fridge.  Always mindful of how she presented herself, she had mastered her body language. The message she was sending now was unmistakable, and Matthew was clearly noticing.

“That’s a beautiful dress, babe. Its sexy as hell, but maybe a bit revealing for the office? Why do I think you’ve been out tonight?”

“Because I have, you ninny. Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous.” Becca busied herself with the corkscrew, pulling the cork with a satisfying pop.

“I’m working on something for the paper. There are some very bad people I’m trying to expose. You know men. They always respond to a woman in a slinky dress.”

Matthew retrieved the glasses and came up behind Becca, sliding his arm around her waist. “I’m sure they do, especially when it’s you wearing it. Is there anything you can tell me about them?

“Not yet. This could be dangerous, but I’ll fill you in before we publish.”

Matthew nodded as she poured. As an attorney who often worked pro bono for the ACLU, he understood both the need for professional secrecy and the value of doing good works. The subtle tightening of his arm on her hip was all the conformation she needed that he was satisfied with her explanation.

He was a good man, and she was reminded why she had chosen him when no other man had proven worthy of her fidelity. Even then, she felt her faithfulness was intact, and she was sure he would see that when the time came..

*****

“That was wonderful, Mathew. I admit it, you are much better in the kitchen than I.” Becca sipped the last of her Pinot Grigio, savoring it’s heady sweetness.

“I have offered to teach you. Cooking is an art. Who knows, you may one day have a house full of children to feed. You can’t order from Scutari’s every night.”

“It worked well enough before I met you, but perhaps you are right. Maybe I should just keep you. Then I’d never have to slave away over a hot stove.”

Rising, Becca leaned over Matthew, sliding her arms around him and nuzzling his neck. “Why don’t you get that bottle of moscato we’ve been saving and pour me a glass. I’ll meet you in the den.”

She could almost feel Matthew’s gaze burning into her as she walked toward her room. Running her hands over her dress, she made a conscious effort to ensure the shimmering satin was framing her hips. Knowing well his gaze was fixated on her ass, she paused at the hall, turning and flashing him a sexy smile. “Better get that wine,” she advised before disappearing down the hall.

When she returned, Matthew was relaxing on the couch, idly sipping the moscato while he waited. She knew she’d been gone longer than he liked, but despite her desire to break every female stereotype she could, making men wait was one area in which she delighted in being like other women.

Matthew heard her approach and the glass paused at his lips when she padded across the carpet in her bare feet. “Oh, my lord, Becca. I keep forgetting just how beautiful you really are.”

Atr five feet nine, Becca was tall, with perfectly proportioned breasts rising high on her chest. Gone was the satin dress, replaced by the thin lace of her sheer negligee. Its rose-pink color complimented her flaming red hair as it flowed over her shoulders. Her nipples were hard, poking into the lace so strongly her darker pink areola were visible through the its gossamer veil.

It draped to her upper thigh, barely covering her sex and inviting him to picture the memory of her shaved mound. Becca allowed his gaze to pass freely over her. She took his glass and then straddled his lap, facing him as she took the sip he’d intended for himself.

The golden liquid moistened her lips. With the glass still in her hand, she kissed him deeply, inviting him to take her into his arms.

“Make love to me, Matthew. Do with me what you want. I need to feel your passion tonight. I need you to love me.”

She could feel his chest expand as he breathed deeply. His hands moved down her back, cupping her bare ass as he drew her against his crotch. She could feel his erection growing, lengthening into a fully aroused state.

“Mmm. I feel you getting hard for me. It feels so good against my clit.” Becca began rocking in his lap, bracing herself with her arms around his neck. Soon, she picked up the rhythm of the music playing and danced like a strip-club pro grinding on his lap.

“Damn, Becca, where did you learn this?”

“That’s my secret. One of many I haven’t shared with you. Should I make you come in your slacks?” Becca bore down, pressing her moist sex hard along his length.

She could feel him tense, but his control remained. “That would be an unfortunate waste, don’t you think?”

Becca wasn’t so sure. Turning that trick with Ron had stoked a fantasy for her. The idea of  pleasing a man, her man, so selflessly was driving her wild with desire. She relished this lap dance, imaging herself a stripper granting him one of those happiest of endings. Her hips flexed and rolled, grinding into his slacks until she was sure they were wet.

“I don’t know about that. The idea of making you fill your shorts with cum is turning me on. Shall I continue? Who knows. Maybe I’ll come first.”

“I think you need to.”  Matthew rolled her off, laying her back against his side. He held her still,  licked his fingers and slid them into her molten core.

Shocked and pleased by his sudden surge of dominance, Becca’s yelp turned into a whimper as his fingers began manipulating her clit. She turned and kissed him hard while his strong fingers delved into her wetness.

He was going to make her come, she had no doubt of that and she accepted his tongue into her mouth with a ferocious hunger. She acted like a whore and Matthew responded with the passion of a man possessed. She could hear his voice commanding her to let it happen. With a gasp tearing from deep in her breast, she succumbed to him.

Pressure built in her body, overwhelming her and causing her belly to roil with pleasure. Her blood was rushing like hot honey and a burst of bright color exploded in front of her eyes.

She must have screamed. She was sure she did. When the waves passed, Matthew remained. His grip had relaxed and he cradled her against him, caressing her legs as her heartbeat slowed.

“That was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

“God, I hope so. I’d have passed out if I’d come any harder.” Her sex was throbbing, hot and sticky to the point that even the slightest touch might have been too much.

Matthew seemed content to wait, but her appetite had not been satisfied. Tracing her fingers over his bulge, she drew his zipper down and unbuttoned slacks. His penis was still rock hard and she deftly tugged it free until his length stood proudly in front of her.

Easing herself to the floor, she settled into the carpeting and had him stand so that she could pull his pants free. She hefted his balls in her hand and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Mmm, I’m going to drain these tonight, Matthew. I’m not going to stop until you have nothing left.”

She was stroking him slowly, teasing him with all her skill until the sweet drops of precum appeared. Licking her lips, she kissed his head, and then slid down the taut length of his shaft.

She felt him tense as his head glided over her tongue. He wasn’t monstrously huge, but he was much more than enough. He filled her mouth easily and she licked him, soaking his skin until he was slick and ready to be sucked.

Becca felt denied by having to use a condom earlier with Ron. With Matthew, she was determined to have the taste she hungered for. Ron was nothing to her, and she used this knowledge to stoke a fire for the man who did. Cupping his balls, she drew her mouth over him, sucking hard until his rampant cock began to darken.

Matthew held her head, not to control her but rather to feel her silky red hair pass through his fingers. He’d never met a woman as skilled as she was at lovemaking, and certainly none matched her love of sex. He was becoming lost and his will to resist was rapidly giving way.

Becca sensed the imminence of his orgasm and swallowed hard, letting him slide deeply into her throat. Up and back, she pulled on his skin with enough wet suction to make him groan. Squeezing his balls, she kneaded him, urging him to fill her mouth. She felt him jerk and his hot load began splashing over her tongue.

His taste was strong but not overly bitter. Becca took her time, cleaning him while his erection subsided. With their immediate needs fulfilled, she helped him out of his clothes, following each piece with a tender kiss as it was removed.

“Thank you, Becca. That was wonderful. But you didn’t spend all that time making yourself so sexy to be finished now.” Standing, he offered Becca his hand and led her into her bedroom.

Becca’s body was still humming with the afterglow of sex. The lingering taste of semen remained in her mouth, a reminder of what they shared. She was purring, sexually content, yet still desiring more.

Becca could feel him standing behind her as they came Into the room. His strong, toned body radiated masculinity and her sex flowed with fresh moisture as she watched his cock begin to swell. Sliding into his embrace, she accepted his kiss and melted into him.

His strong hands caressed her, warm over her skin. He knew exactly where she loved to be touched. She tingled as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching them in delicious pain. Anticipation clawed at her. He was playing music with her body, making her quiver with need as his fingers delved into the crease of her bum.

They had shared anal sex several times and she would have welcomed it that night. But, as he had already given her one orgasm, she much preferred the next to be in her sex. Matthew agreed with that desire.

Guiding her to the bed, he urged her onto her back. He reclined over her and slid into the saddle of her thighs. “I love how you suck my cock. Now, I want to give that same pleasure to you.”

Becca swallowed hard as he began kissing his way down her body. Pausing as he reached her tit, he swirled his tongue over her nipple, cooling it with saliva before sucking it into his mouth.

Pulses of electricity surged through her, causing her sex to itch with need. His teeth dug into her nub, biting it hard enough to make her gasp. He was kneading her flesh, digging his fingers into her boob while continuing to torture her sensitized nipple.

His body felt heavy and hot on her and she writhed under him, basking in the pleasure he was giving her. Her thighs flexed, and she wrapped her legs around him, trying to pull him down to quench the fire he’d lit in her core.

“Oh, dammit. Stop teasing me like this!” I need it now. Make me cum,  Matthew. I’m sooo ready!”

Grinning up at her, he slid lower, nibbling on her belly as he reached her Venus Mons. Spreading her thighs, he feathered his lips over her, his kisses danced over her skin and trailed lower until he was teasing her labia.

Becca moaned, rolling her hips as his kisses showered her sex. She was dripping wet and the heat in her core was molten. She was trembling when he slowed, and her breath caught in her throat when his tongue flicked out and slipped between her puffy lips.

“Oh, shit, Matthew. Yes! Kiss me there. Lick my fucking clit until I come.”

Matthew grinned again and opened her pussy with his thumbs. Becca could feel his hot breath on her wet flesh and she bit her lip when he pointed his tongue and sent  it up her slit. Up and back he went, soaking her with saliva and flicking his tongue all around her clit.

Her leg muscles grew taut and her belly rippled as the tempo and force of his intimate assault increased. Becca was going mad when he found her clit. The warm softness of his lips sucked on her button, glossing it with moisture that matched her flowing juice.

His tongue played over her hood, digging under it until her sensitive little nub was laid bare. Flicking and sucking at it, he drove her to the brink. Pressure was building in her until it finally crested, exploding through her with seismic force. Her muscles clenched, causing her to buck against him on the bed. Becca was rocked powerfully by her orgasm and she groaned in surrender to the release washing over her.

Becca was lost to the moment. Beads of sweat were gathering on her skin, making her shine in the light. She felt weak and her pussy radiated pure heat. She was so sensitive that she knew the slightest touch would make her scream.

Matthew knew this too, but his arousal was overwhelming. Sliding over her, he dropped his erection on her mons. He felt thick and heavy and she gazed at it in wonder.

At moments like this a man’s penis felt like a separate, living thing. Her hand was trembling as she reached out and she circled her fingers around its girth.

A feral growl escaped his throat as Becca began pulling on his cock. She tightened her hold, dragging his foreskin over his head before stroking back along his length. He had visions of his cum flooding out and pooling on her bare belly and he would gladly have let her jack him off.

Becca’s need overcame her hesitance and she guided his spongy head to the dripping entrance to her cunt. Wetting his tip in the center of her, she tugged ever so slightly, allowing him to plunge into her.

His thick, hot cock bored into her, forcing her walls apart as she conformed to his shape. There was strength behind his thrust, spearing into her until she could almost feel him in her throat. Her head lolled back and her mouth opened, as if she was being pushed to the edge of orgasm.

She felt him grip her body, holding her tight against him, rhythm in sync. “Oh, fuck me,” she hissed as his speed increased, pounding into her without mercy. She could feel her breasts bouncing each time he drilled into her. Taking them in her hard, she pinched and rolled her nipples as he plundered her.

His cock plowed into her, making her pussy drench him. She was oozing and her juice ran over her inner thighs and down into the cleft of her ass. She mused how intense it would be if he flipped her over and took her there, but Matthew was too lost in the act to stop.

Gathering her in his arms, he held her tight as his thrusts intensified. He felt engorged inside her now, and she knew he’d soon come.  She urged relentlessly him on digging her fingers into his back. .

Growling, Matthew was reaching his limit. He fucked her hard; trying to get into her as far as he could as his balls began to churn. Instinctively, he would shoot deep inside her. When his moment came, he thrust hard, burying his cock into her.

Hot cum forced its way up his shaft and erupted inside her, filling her. Had she allowed herself to be fertile, they certainly would have succeeded.

Author's Note:

I was excited when Principessa came to me with this idea. Writing the original Power Play with her had been a wonderful experience and that carried into Rebecca Redux. As writers, we mesh perfectly. It is a pleasure to work with such an amazing talent. The act of creating a story like this would not be otherwise possible.