Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Set vaguely in the future, this is the story of a loser named James whose fortunes turn around suddenly, culminating in an unexpected discovery in a Special Bangkok Hotel.
Only the University would send an actual paper letter anymore. When James had received it, he was pretty sure it was bad news. Opening it confirmed that.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! He just couldn't drag his eyes away from that line: "In light of your unacceptable academic performance over the last two semesters, we ask that you withdraw from the University."
They ask? And he quickly looked at the second page - a blank form which began, "I, _______, hereby resign from the undergraduate program at the University of..."
James sat down, still looking at the papers in a state of disbelief. He'd actually flunked out of college. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. So much for a degree in Physics!
Thank God, James thought, that his mother wasn't around to see this.
The fact was, nobody was around to see this. James was alone in the world. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was 17. They had both been only-children, as was James. He had no parents, no siblings, no aunts, uncles, or cousins. His grandparents were dead. He didn't even have a girlfriend. Heck, he barely even had a friend!
Actually, there was a bit of a story there - he'd had a friend and a girlfriend. Yeah - his roommate, Tony, was his best and only friend. And he'd had a girlfriend, Sally. Until, that is, the day that Sally got word that her cat had died. What the hell was that cat's name, 'Smurf'? Fuck.
James and Tony had been drinking Rum and Sprites when Sally had come in, clearly upset. She told the boys that her cat had died. Sitting between them on James's bed, she'd started sobbing. James, who had never had a pet, tried to console her. He held her in his arms as she cried. But her sobbing increased, and Sally - not sure she wanted to be comforted - had squirmed in his arms until her back was to James. Somehow they ended up lying down on the bed - James, with his back to the wall, spooning against Sally, who sobbed in his arms. Tony sat beside Sally, and reached out and brushed the hair from her face. Tony was a cat person, and began to ask all the right questions from Sally about her cat, and soon Sally was laughing through her tears as she told Tony stories about 'Smurf', or whatever the hell her cat's name had been.
James had lain there helplessly as Tony reached down and gave Sally a hug, and she'd pulled him down so that they were three on the bed, lying like sardines on the narrow dormitory mattress. Only it was James who was behind Sally, and Tony who faced her and who hugged her. And as the day's light faded into darkness, it was Tony who was kissing Sally, and who's cock, crammed in his jeans, was pressed against Sally's mound. James was there, spooned against Sally's back, when Sally and Tony realized that they were deeply and seriously in love.
And, of course, that left James alone. Again. Still.
The day after flunking out, James was vacuuming the carpet in his room. The carpet was clean. That's what his life was like, thought James; vacuuming a clean carpet. A lot of back and forth and back and forth, leaving insignificant tracks in the shag, and accomplishing nothing.
He'd ended up calling Tony and Sally the previous night. He had to listen to their glowing voices detailing wedding plans for ten minutes before one of them finally asked what was up, and James told them about having flunked out.
"Oh, shit, man, I'm sorry," Tony had said, sounding truly sorry. "What are you going to do now?"
James didn't know. He hadn't known then, and he didn't known any more by the next afternoon, which was why he was vacuuming a clean carpet. And that was how he almost didn't hear the phone ring, and how, once he did hear it, he almost pretended he hadn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone. Mostly, he just wasn't sure of anything.
But the phone kept ringing, and James finally shut off the vacuum and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he said sullenly into the receiver.
"Hello James, it's Mr. Blackstreet. How are you doing?"
Mr. Blackstreet had been his parent's lawyer. It had been Mr. Blackstreet who had helped James deal with the financial and legal side of his parent's deaths. James had, of course, been the sole heir of the "estate", such as it was. Mr. Blackstreet had analyzed things and determined that there wasn't much cash, and that the only major asset was their home. So Mr. Blackstreet had James sell the house, find a small rental place to live in, and invest the rest of the proceeds. It was from that stash that James's college expenses had been coming. Now that fund was going to have to keep him solvent until... until what, James wasn't sure.
"How are you doing, James?" Mr. Blackstreet asked again, when James didn't answer the first time.
"Um, not so good," said James, morosely. "I, um, flunked out of college. They sent me notification yesterday."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
Finally, James heard the verdict from Mr. Blackstreet.
"That's a very unfortunate circumstance, young man. Very unfortunate indeed. Very... Disappointing."
"Yes, sir," James answered, lamely.
"Well, while you are trying to figure out what to do next, I've got some news for you, James. Sad news."
James noted that Mr. Blackstreet didn't sound sad.
"Your mother's uncle, Prescott Humes, his son Wescott, and Wescott's family were all killed in an airplane accident yesterday in Colorado. I'm so sorry."
Sorry? Why? James had never even met his great uncle nor his - what would Wescott have been - his first cousin once removed, nor his second cousin. Heck, James hadn't even known he'd had a second cousin. All he knew about Prescott Humes was that he'd been James's closest blood relative once his parents had died, and that Prescott Humes had shown no interest in helping James once he became an orphan.
"Oh." That was all James could think of to say.
"I got a call from Mr. Humes's lawyer in Poughkeepsie, and he wants you out there for the reading of the will on Tuesday. I've got a plane reservation for you for the morning - I'll email you all the details. The lawyer didn't say why he wanted you there, but I assume there might be something left for you in the will.
"Okay," said James. At least it gave him something to do in the morning.
After hanging up, James thought about what he'd do with an inheritance. At least it might keep him in beer until he figured out where his life was going.
The reading of the will was held in the offices of Mr. Humes's lawyer, Mr. Guemes, who seemed incapable of smiling, or even of looking pleasant. There were plenty of other people in the room, and several things soon became clear to James. The first was that his great uncle had been a very, very, very wealthy and powerful man. Second, that most of the people in the room were business associates of Mr. Prescott Humes, and that they were very concerned about the businesses involved. For two hours, Mr. Guemes read out details of how various business holdings were to be distributed. There was much shouting and consternation and jubilation amongst the various factions represented in the room. James understood little of what was going on, except that the bald man sitting next to him seemed not to have gotten what he'd wanted. The old man's eyes were bulging out of his face, and his hands gripped the arms of the chair so hard they'd turned white and shook. As Mr. Guemes read the disposition of the last of the business properties, the bald man's face paled to an ashy gray, and he noiseless slid from his seat to the ground.
"God Damn", said the man on the other side of James, upon noticing the prone figure. "Prescott managed to kill off Bullnose in the end!"
James sat in shock, staring at the form at his feet. Mr. "Bullnose" did indeed appear to be dead. There was a bit of a commotion, as paramedics were summoned. But as the business holdings had been dispensed with, most of the people in the room took the opportunity to take their gnashing of teeth, their wringing of hands, their shouting, and their gloating out of the room and out of James's sight.
So after the paramedics had dealt with "Bullnose", and had wheeled him out of the room, James and Mr. Guemes were the only people left.
"And you are James Murphy?" asked Mr. Guemes.
"Yes sir," said James.
"Well, young man. Let me share with you the rest of the final Will and Testament of Mr. Prescott Humes."
And with that, Mr. Guemes began to read from said will, and James quickly became lost in the details. None of it seemed to have to do with him. At issue, it appeared, was the disposition of the liquid portion of the Humes estate, that much James figured out. Most of the money had been supposed to go to Wescott Humes and to other people that James didn't know. Maybe to his second cousins. The will was very long, and James got bored listening to Mr. Guemes read legalese.
In fact, James was staring out the window and wishing he was outside, when the sound of Mr. Guemes clearing his throat several times brought him back to the present.
"But if, in the unlikely circumstance that I should outlive all those previously mentioned, or if we shall perish simultaneously such that it is not clear that I did not outlive them, then I leave the remainder of my estate as follows. Four fifths of my estate shall go to the Hard Rock Mining Executive's museum in Kettle Rock, Colorado, one tenth shall go to Sister Evelyn's Home for Disgraced Girls in Nyack, New York, and one tenth shall go to my niece, May Murphy - nee Humes, of Vendalia. Illinois, or to her heirs if she should predecease me."
"So there you have it, Mr. James Murphy. You have inherited one tenth of the remainder of Mr. Prescott Humes's estate.
"Oh," said James, stupidly. "How much will that be?"
"Oh, there's still a lot of figuring to be done, Mr. Murphy. A lot of assets will need to be liquidated, a lot of taxes will need to be paid, a lot of lawyers will need to be remunerated,..." and here, Mr. Guemes finally smiled. "But, I expect you'll get somewhere between thirty five and forty."
James's heart sank. "35 or 40 dollars?" he asked, sounding somewhat forlorn. More money had been spent on his motel room for the night, let alone his air fare.
At that, Mr. Guemes broke into what could almost be described as a chuckle. "Thirty five or forty MILLION dollars, Mr. Murphy. Your great uncle was a very rich man. Unfortunately, as with many rich men, he liked to fly around in his private plane. In my opinion, private aircraft are God's way of telling you that you have too much money. Stay away from them, Mr. Murphy, that's my advice."
James was in his apartment, talking on the phone with Tony and Sally again. He'd sort of mentioned that he'd inherited a lot of money from his great uncle, though he hadn't specified how much. He had sort of hinted that it was in the seven figures, not quite willing to admit to eight figures. Tony and Sally, of course, treated the news like they treated all good news from James.
"That's really great, James. I'm happy for you," said Tony, in the same tone he would have used if James had told him he got a B+ in Art. "But we have some even better news - we're pregnant! Of course this means we'll be moving the wedding forward a few weeks, but isn't it exciting?!? We're hoping you're free on Saturday, July 10th - we can't get married without our Best Man, now can we?"
It was then that James decided to fly somewhere very, very, very far away on July 11th.
James packed his bags and got to the airport by 9:00 a.m., and he still had a touch of a hangover from the night before. Sally's wedding dress had been more than enough to make James drink, with its oval cutout to let her pregnant belly show through. He wasn't sure if the blue sash running across the gap (they'd done ultrasound and knew it was a boy) made the effect worse or worser. Nothing could have made it better.
To make matters even more difficult, he'd had to dance with Sally (the bride always dances with the Best Man), and he'd had to endure a touching thank you from her for introducing her to Tony, complete with an overly-intimate kiss.
To top it off, there wasn't even any alcohol at the wedding, in light of Sally's 'delicate position'. The 'champagne toast' was done with some sparkling peach crap.
Fortunately for James, he bumped into a cousin of Sally's who had nursed a crush on her for years. Jonathan had brought a flask of Bacardi 151 which he was willing to share with a man similarly afflicted. It was a big flask and there were only the two of them drinking, so in morning-after second though, perhaps it hadn't been fortunate.
James had his passport, and his two, new, high-limit credit cards with him. His bag had just a few clothes and a bathing suit. He'd buy anything else he needed. He was going, and he wasn't looking back.
He scanned down the International Departures board. The flight to Athens didn't leave until noon. Next on the list was Bangkok, with a flight leaving at 10:32A. Cairo was 3:45P. Bangkok it was. He headed over to the ticket counter and managed to score a first-class seat. Fourteen grueling hours later, during which he managed to drink a lot and sleep a little, he emerged from the airport into a scene of blazing sunshine and alien faces.
The truth was, prior to leafing through the in-flight magazine, James hadn't been exactly sure where Bangkok was. He knew it was somewhere in Asia, but so were Katmandu and Shanghai. He really didn't know anything about it, and he didn't care. He was as far away from Tony and Sally as he could get.
Seeing a queue of taxis in front of the airport, he stepped up to them, and was hustled into the first one by a very officious Director of Taxis. Or whatever title such a person holds. The driver turned to him as if to ask "Where to?", and it only then occurred to James that there might be a language barrier.
Trusting to luck, James said, somewhat boldly, "Take me to a nice hotel. The best." If you've got millions of dollars, why not?
"Which hotel? You have reservations?"
"No, I don't have reservations - just take me to the best hotel."
"Tut tut tut, No reservation might be very bad. Hotels all full. But we try, yes?"
Whatever. James just hoped that the room would have air conditioning and a bed. Moments later, however, James just hoped he'd survive to the next traffic light. Bangkok taxi drivers are notorious the world over, but James was ignorant and unprepared. Zero to sixty and back to zero in a half-block. Lanes created as if to be cut across at high speeds. Curves hit so fast that there was nothing for James to do but hold on until his knuckles were as white and trembling as Mr. Bullnose's had been shortly before his demise. All the while, the taxi driver was on his cell phone calling hotel after hotel and talking rapidly in a language James couldn't even find the words in.
Taking a break from his phone, the cabbie called back to James.
"You here for the International Trade Association Special Technical Session meeting? That's why all the rooms are full. Lots of people from all over the world are here for that. City is super busy. You lucky you got a taxi. Now I try to find you lucky room."
James wished the limo driver wouldn't watch him in the rearview mirror when he talked. James wished he'd watch where he was going.
"Oh — it very bad. All of the Best hotels full. All of the Nice hotels full. I try to find you a Special hotel. It as good as I can do."
Soon after, and without warning, the taxi came to a sudden stop in front of a hotel. "Here we go - I found you a Special hotel."
Best, Nice, Special? James hadn't realized there was such a hierarchy of adjectives. The hotel, however, looked good enough. His door was opened, and a bellhop grabbed his bag and hustled him into the lobby as soon as James had paid the driver. $60 for a cab ride seemed like a lot to James, but the man had made a lot of phone calls too. And what was $60 to James now anyway.
At the desk, James had a hard time communicating with the clerk. James asked for the best room available, and when the clerk asked if he wanted the special entertainment something-or-other, James didn't know how to answer, so he said yes. The clerk asked if English was his first language? Did he want a New something-or-other? Or a Used? Special Price on New?
"Sure, yeah," said James. He didn't know what he was getting but it didn't matter to him. A room mattered to him.
James signed more documents than he thought reasonable for a simple hotel room, but some of had to do with the Something-or-Other, he was sure. A lot of the documents were actually in Thai, and he didn't understand a thing about them, but he signed them just the same.
Eventually, he was evidently done, and he followed the bellhop to the elevator and up to the top floor. He tried to talk with the bellhop, but the bellhop spoke no English. James was hoping there was room service available. He was hungry as well as tired.
The bellhop opened the door and led him into the suite. The room was comfortably cool, and James was greeted by the sight of a nice room with a table and chairs, a sofa, a television, and a balcony. Off to one side was a doorway, presumably to the bedroom. All looked good, and James tipped the bellhop.
Finally, James was settled in Bangkok! Looking around, he realized that he needed to pee and then maybe he should just lie down. Going through the door to the bedroom, James suddenly stopped short.
There, in the middle of the king-sized bed, was a woman... young... blond... naked... bound. Gagged. James nearly pissed his pants.
James's eyes roamed over the woman. He saw the silk sash running through her mouth and tied behind her head, and the second sash tying her hands together behind her back, and the third sash tying her legs together at the ankles. He saw her nakedness - her small tits that barely drooped, even though she was lying on her side; the triangle of sparse hair at her crotch; her stomach and her eyes. He saw that she wasn't struggling and that she looked more curious than afraid.
This made James confused - confused enough that he fumbled in his pocket for the room key. Room 819. He backed out to the other room and opened the door to the hallway. There, on the outside of the door, were the same numbers. He looked at each of them in turn. '8', '1', '9'. He was in the right room.
He went back inside and closed the door behind him, then locked the deadbolt and hooked the chain. He didn't want somebody stumbling into his room when there was a...
He crossed to the bedroom and looked in. She was still there. Slowly, tentatively, James went over towards the bed. Her eyes were searching his with a look of confusion. He sat down on the bed.
"Um - are you OK? What are you doing here?"
It took James a minute to realize that she was still gagged and couldn't answer. He reached behind her head to fumble with the knot on the gag while trying not to touch her nakedness. It took him a minute to figure it out, but finally he got the knot untied and he pulled the gag out of her mouth.
When she still didn't answer, he asked, "Do you speak English? Can you understand me?"
"Yes, I understand. I am alright as well. You are my Master?" Her voice sounded odd, her English slightly more British in accent than American, but not quite right for either.
'Master?' James was startled at this. He stood up and backed away. Suddenly remembering why he had been heading into the bedroom in the first place, James ran to the bathroom, slammed the door, unzipped, and rather unsteadily stood peeing. As his flow turned into a dribble, his heart rate slowed, and his mind seemed to clear. There must be a reasonable explanation for all this. He'd figure it out soon, he was sure. He flushed, washed his hands and his face, dried off with a towel, and went to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it.
She was still where he'd left her. He sighed.
Going over to the bed, James thought of a safe question to ask. "What's your name?"
"My name is Kristy. You are my Master?" She said 'Master' like it was a capitalized - a name, almost.
"I'm James, and I'm not your master," James replied, expecting this to comfort her.
"Not my Master? Where is Master? You must be Master!" Kristy was very flustered.
And Kristy being flustered made James flustered. He didn't know where to look, and it never occurred to him to untie the poor girl. Instead, James turned his back to her so that he didn't have to figure out how not to look at her tits and pussy. It was then that he saw the papers.
It was the title of the one on top that caught his eye - "Special Entertainment Sensi-Clone". Picking up the papers, he began to read. And the more he read, the more he couldn't believe it.
From the broken English in the document, he managed to gather that Kristy was apparently a clone specially created for the enjoyment of men. The date of cloning should be tattooed on the bottom of her left foot, according to what he read.
James turned around and, without a thought for Kristy, lifted her feet. On the bottom of her left foot was a barely legible tattoo reading "2013-10-14".
Goodness, thought James to himself, she's only seventeen! He quickly went back to the documents. Meanwhile, Kristy remained tied on the bed.
An hour later, James finished looking through the rest of the documentation and the papers he'd signed in the lobby. He still didn't understand all of them (of course, he understood nothing of the ones in Thai, but most were in something like English). He was still trying to figure out the meaning of it all, when his thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice.
"Master-, um, James, could I be untied? I need to, um, pee."
"What? Oh. I'm so sorry," replied James, suddenly realizing the situation. He quickly went over and untied Kristy as fast as his fumbling hands would manage. Kristy quickly scooted off the bed and into the bathroom. James was rather startled when she didn't close the door, but sat on the commode in clear view of James. She certainly had needed to pee!
Kristy wiped, flushed, washed her hands with soap and hot water, dried them on a clean towel, and returned to the bed.
"You can tie me again, Master James."
James, having gathered from the documents that he was her master, of sorts, at least for now, answered in a tone very new to him.
"That won't be necessary, Kristy."
For those documents had laid out how this whole Special Entertainment Sensi-Clone (SES-C) thing worked, and it boggled James's mind. Clones - clones of foreign women kidnapped years ago and held long enough to extract some DNA. Clones grown in tanks until "born", then raised by nannies who spoke the same language as the foreign woman from whom the clone had been made. From what he read, it seemed that most of the clones became SES-C's at about age 13 or 14. First, they would have their experiential memories wiped, leaving them with only their abstract knowledge of language, customs, and practices, but no recollection of their upbringing. They would then be rented out with the hotel room to businessmen. The first rental, when the SES-C was a virgin, usually cost 10 times the normal rental. James had gotten the "Special Rate on New"; only a five times multiplier. After each "use", the SES-C would be memory wiped again, checked for STDs, and returned to "service", if all checked out OK. If not, the would be "withdrawn from service". James wondered if that meant they would be... killed? Or would they become common prostitutes? James figured the latter. One of the papers James had signed was a notice that if he caused permanent physical harm, including any infection with incurable STDs (herpes, HIV, etc.), he would be charged an extra $100,000! Wow. Another figure that boggled James's mind was a notice that SES-Cs could be purchased for $200,000 ($225,000 if still a virgin). The regular daily service charge was only $1000.
James wondered if Kristy really were a virgin, or if he'd been ripped off. He suspected the latter, but how would he know? He supposed he could inspect her there; it would be perfectly within his rights as "Master". But James didn't think he could do such a thing. For one thing, he didn't know how to tell if she was a virgin. He'd never, um, been with a virgin. What the heck did a hymen look like, anyway.
In fact, he almost decided to march down to the front desk and "return" her, except that she was especially pretty and she sat there so demurely. And James realized that his cock had been very, very hard for a very long time already. Fuck.
Sitting beside her on the bed, James felt strange feelings. She was just letting him look at her. It didn't seem to bother her at all; in fact, if anything, she seemed to enjoy it.
"Um, is there anything you need? Are you hungry? Aren't you cold? Don't you have any clothes?" James was trying to make her feel comfortable. He didn't know what else to do.
"Clothes!" Kristy's voice had a surprised tone to it, as if she'd just remembered about the existence of clothes. "There are clothes in the closet," she said, as if that said it all.
James looked at Kristy and then at the closet. And when Kristy made no move to get up, James went over to the closet himself. Opening the door, James saw that it was filled with women's clothing. James had almost never seen a closet of women's clothing. He and Sally hadn't lived together. He hadn't had a sister. His mother's closet was all he had known at all, and she was very strict about letting him in there. When she was killed, Mr. Blackstreet had arranged to have the Salvation Army clean it out. They'd taken everything away. So a closet full of women's clothing was something pretty new to James.
But even James could tell this was no ordinary wardrobe. Mostly the closet held lingerie items, made of silk and lace and satin and bows. But there was what looked like a complete rubber suit as well, and some very short skirts, and leather pants, and a cheerleader's outfit, and a maid's uniform. In some drawers at the bottom of the closet were panties and bras and half-slips and stockings and garter belts. And sex toys! James felt himself blushing.
"Um - Kristy. Maybe you should come over here and get yourself dressed. Let's go down to the hotel restaurant for some food."
"You mean, outside?" Kristy sounded startled.
"Just downstairs. I saw a restaurant off of the lobby," James reassured her.
"Outside the room, though," said Kristy, still sounding uncertain.
"Yeah - just downstairs," said James, his confidence returning. He knew how to take a girl out to dinner.
Kristy obediently came over to the closet and looked inside. It suddenly occurred to James that Kristy had been trained for a certain kind of existence, and he wondered if her training extended to selecting appropriate clothing to go outside the room. Most of the clothing in the closet looked very inappropriate for an outside venture.
But Kristy seemed to have some idea of what was necessary. She chose a satin bra and panty set that were OK - that is, not crotchless panties nor a demi-bra. They were still sexy, though. James enjoyed watching Kristy put them on. Then she reached deep into the closet and pulled out a short blue knit dress, which she slipped on over her head. It clung to her wonderfully. Some black strap heels and a black belt were added next, followed by a pearl necklace and earrings. Kristy then disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, and emerged looking stunningly beautiful.
James thought it interesting that he enjoyed looking at her dressed up like that, after having spent the last hour looking at her completely naked.
But when James saw Kristy looking so nice, he suddenly realized that he ought to dress up better too. He was still in the clothes he'd flown in (and slept in on the plane). Going to his suitcase, he opened it, peered inside uncertainly, and pulled out a pair of black Dockers and a white shirt. He hadn't really packed any dressy clothes, so those would have to do. He thought about changing in the bathroom where Kristy wouldn't see him, but then decided that would be absurd. So he peeled his t-shirt off over his head.
Before he had finished with the shirt, Kristy was by his side, unbuckling his belt, undoing the button on his jeans, and drawing down the zipper. She knelt down, pulling the jeans down with her. James, having no other recourse, sat down on the bed, and Kristy pulled his jeans off of his legs. He was sitting there wearing nothing but boxers, white socks, and his watch.
"Let me help you get dressed," Kristy said quietly.
'Huh?' thought James to himself. James hadn't been dressed by someone since he was seven.
Still on her knees, Kristy picked up the white dress shirt, unbuttoned the few buttons that were done up, and shook it out. Then she reached around James with the shirt, and helped as he found the armholes with his hands. She soon had the shirt on him, and leaning close to him, she began to do up the buttons from the bottom to the top. When she'd gotten the top button buttoned, she smoothed the collar, then leaned forward and kissed James softly and sweetly on the mouth. James froze. It was so unexpected! And it felt so good!
Rising, Kristy picked up his Dockers and brought them over. Dutifully, James lifted his legs for her as she put them on. He stood, and she pulled them up and expertly tucked in his shirt. When her hands got around to the front, James was horrified to realize that his cock was making a tremendous tent in his boxers, but Kristy delicately straightened his dick into a comfortable position, tucked it against his stomach, and did up the buttons and zipper. Seconds later, she'd freed his belt from his jeans and was threading it through the belt loops. After buckling the belt, Kristy rose again and gave James another tender kiss on the lips. James saw stars.
James slipped his feet into his shoes, grabbed his wallet and keys, and turned to Kristy, who stood waiting for him. And then James did something that surprised himself. He reached out his hand and took Kristy's, and led her to the door, smiling.
Once in the hall, Kristy looked scared, like a cat suddenly finding itself exposed in the middle of the lawn. Clutching his hand tighter, she stayed quite close to James as they made their way to the elevators. While they waited, he smiled down at her. When the elevator door opened, and they went inside, Kristy relaxed a bit, but stayed close to James. The inside of the elevator was mirrored, and James took the opportunity to look at himself and Kristy. They looked, he decided, very good together.