Looking up into his eyes, as he completely ignored her, doingeverything she could to stuff his cock as far down her throat as shecould, Candy knew tha... this was true love. This was the thing that poetshave written about for thousands of years. She was so grateful for theserare moments when her master and owner let her demonstrate with her mouththe depths of her justifiably unrequited love. She prayed for a time whenshe could stop pretending to be a man and inflate her lips into obscene,massive. Grace realised the voice had emanated from an ordinary Acer laptop sitting on the coffee table.“We have conversations with her,” explained the alien more fluently now, through the laptop speaker, “and Claude ... a man who is an expert in translation.”“Claude Simon!”“Yes.” The alien waved towards the laptop “Between us we adapted his real-time translation engine, which is quite good now. My species communicate a lot by thought, I should explain, with our hair. It’s like your wifi, but for. More

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