Grudgingly, Terry returned to his work. He was surprised to find himself caught up in a storm of ink and creation. The images and words almost leaped ...rom his head to the page. Terry was delighted, and sure he would be done this today, until he noticed that somehow the centrepiece of the comic, the flat-chested moe girl from a show he hadn’t seen, had slowly morphed into the vixen that lay on the couch across from him. The early pages could still be mistaken for the character, but they were. “Hon, you want to dance with Max?” “Oh no, I couldn’t.” “Don’t worry about it babe, I won’t be mad.” “OK.” I looked at Max and nodded my head; there was no need to talk. We had been doing this for years now, our looks and a couple of hand signals were all we needed. I watched as he fondled her ass and dug his knee deep between her legs. She threw her head back and sank into it. Max smiled and winked; she was ours. They danced a. More

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