FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This was a story I wrote for this image: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/18313907/ which is easily one of my favorite furry images of all time. Though it is the only existing picture of her, I have been so passionate about it for years that I thought it was only fitting to write about her for you guys. So I sincerely hope you enjoy, because I honestly sank an embarrassing amount of time into this.

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Flashes of Inspiration

She arrived on set not a moment too late. The clack of her cyan glass heel against the threshold of the polished, hardwood floors was far more fitting for her than a knock at the door, which had swung open without warning, nearly startling the lens cap off one of the crew member's fingers. All their attention was stolen to the ivory horned, voluptuous aqua blue dragoness in the doorway, lucid and shadowed in a pillar of yellow light behind her. The details unveiled during her hesitation to fully enter the room; the glossy, specular shine garnishing her indigo skin. The pale grey of her midsection was hidden by her teal robe, which she barely clutched together with her crossed hands around the two folds. Her piercing eyes, her crescent shaped hair, both teal and bright. And so, the pressure of their admiration was instant, turning her core to feathers like magic as she stepped into the room.

Its fabric graced the floor like low flying seagulls while her graceful stride stole the show in an instant. Her huge, thick tail thinned out to the teal paint brush tip and swayed from side to side. It jittered as she batted an eyelash at the lineup of darkened faces behind large, mechanical cameras and box lights. That first glance would've made most people turn the other way, but that's what made it fascinating to her.

Just a year ago, she was twenty-six, spending all hours of the day grinding out volleyball practice for the next professional game. And she was a damn good player. Back then, she was all about hitting spikes, breaking sweats and chasing nothing but a shiny, golden trophy. Life was simple. But, with simplicity comes fading satisfaction. Little had she prepared for boredom to sneak up on her and replace all her friends with the passing gazes behind operating cameras. There wasn't even enough time to air out the thoughts. It was like the second she signed her name to that deal, she was living it up on primetime with Hollywood, shaking business owners' hands, and posing next to any lineup of high-end products you could possibly imagine. Magazines, books, pinups...it was simply remarkable. Her diet was protected, and her image was pure and loved. But the sand from the beach was still beneath her toes. She looked at the floor as she walked and breathed in as she always did whenever it hit her. The paycheck was as simple as striking a pose and waiting for a camera to click. One year. That's all it took. One. Good. Year.

God, if it didn't tire a girl out, though. Who really were these guys, anyway? She swept her eyes and tried to imagine them as friends in their shadowy silhouettes. But the illusion just wasn't doing it. Maybe it was too obvious that everyone was just doing their job. Or maybe a fantasy just didn't cut it. Now, all that was left was the sound of crew members chatting amongst each other as they fixed up their cameras and patiently waited for their cue. Their unintelligible words seem to endlessly reverberate off of the invisible walls, the wisps of their syllables swimming in and out of their ears. She breathed an exasperated sigh as she walked, already feeling inward. Then, she felt a rush to her side. Her curious head turn met with exactly what was expected: her agent, Roger, the Iberian lynx with dashing brown and white fur designs on his face complemented by an ironed-out, dapper tuxedo.

"Remember: easy gig, easy money," he insisted, the chill of his low tone barely being audible. "Just play it calm and we'll be out of here in a minute."

Her mouth opened to respond, but before anything came out, her other side was flanked by the lead grey avian director, who had shown up in a yellow-dotted maroon buttoned down shirt with the grey shorts. As he eagerly approached, he accidentally startled the model with his extended, feathered hand, though he paid no attention to her gentle gasp:

"Pleasure to have you on set, Miss Sylphen," he greeted, walking with her. "Before we begin, I want to sincerely thank you for volunteering for the new column of Rogue Magazine. But Though, I know this is breaking new grounds, so here's some motivation: with your help, we're projecting a tenfold boost in the ratings, and a thirteen percent growth of subscribers.

The lovely model pivoted her arms away from the gesture, unable to take it, and replied in her British accent, "I'm here for the bonus, Mr. Dansen, not the marketing. You can keep the corporate talk to yourself.

"Ah, my dear, I can tell just by looking at you that it's much more than that," the director chided.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Well, I don't believe it would be wrong to say your figure is a gem in the Rhine," he urged, trying hard not to peek at her cleavage. "I'm sure there are plenty of women out there that would kill to be in your position."

"I beg to differ," she replied sternly. "I can't imagine the negative backlash they'd get if you put any other ordinary woman here.

"Probably not much from someone like you," he complimented. "What's there to lose? You look gorgeous, and the world already knows your name. Imagine the admiration when they find out their dear model Miss Sylphen's brave enough to try a _centerfold_issue!"

She wasn't quick to respond. "I suppose there's no arguing against that."

"With our help, there's nowhere to go but up," the director said, "am I wrong?"

"I-I...well...," the flustered model stammered.

"What my client means to say is that this is for the social statement, not the exposure," the agent butted in, tapping his pencil to his notepad. "Furthermore, we would like to cease all talk regarding her body. There's no point in parading around it, anyways."

"Is this not a celebratory moment?" Mr. Dansen mused. "You're missing the metaphor! Nudity is daunting! Meditative! But most importantly, liberating. And from a female figure, it's all the more powerful. If that's not the kind of attitude you need for a photoshoot like this, then I don't know what is. So, as long as she does exactly what she's told, she'll be a knockout."

"I agree, but her body must be seen in full," Roger quipped annoyedly. "In other words, I expect no photoshop to take part in this, or the whole deal's off."

"All necessary edits are up to the editing team," Mr. Dansen responded with conviction. "They're completely out of our hands.

The agent gave a puzzled stare back at him.

"That wasn't mentioned in the contract," he breathed suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

Mr. Danson shot him a strange look. "It doesn't need to be."

"Of course, sir," Roger responded instantly, nodding side-to-side awkwardly as he turned his head back to scribble into the notepad.

"Mr. Dansen, sir," Sylphen responded meekly, "I respect all that you're doing here, but I'm concerned that some women might get the wrong idea.

"That's why you're here to inspire them," Mr. Dansen replied. "To fill them with the passion_and _determination of being a woman in the modern world! Isn't that what being a celebrity figure is all about?"

There was a slight pause between them

"With all due respect, sir, we've already filled out the contract," Roger quipped. "There's no need for further talk."

The avian nodded his head assuredly.

"Then I'll leave you two to the warmups," he concluded, extending a hand to Roger, which he caught and promptly shook. Nodding and somewhat bowing, the director then walked back over to the camera crew, still turned towards them. "Be ready in ten minutes. I assure you, by the end of this week, you'll be the face of female courage across the entire country."

His body was darkening as he disappeared further into the shadows of backstage, then became a silhouette beyond the activated soft lights. Tripods propped them up and aimed their white, blinding beams at a small, wooden stool, which stood before a green screen that cascaded from the top of the wall down to the floor, wrinkling on its edges. All else in the room was completely black with the only other door closed behind them.

Off to the side, further down, stood a desk with a mirror studded with LED light bulbs, embroidered "Sylphen" on the edge of its border. For the time being, they took to it like a battle station to prepare for the shoot. She seemed to struggle to sit comfortably on the cushiony stool. There were various makeup products adjourning the desk, all of which she had endorsed before, but Roger could see in the mirror that she was avoiding the right side of the desk. That was where her weight loss pill logo was. Roger knelt next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder as her blank stare looked like a troubled portrait in the mirror.

"Miss Sylphen, are you all right?" he mumbled to her. "Would you like a glass of water? I'll get it ice cold."

She paused and gulped deeply. Her eyes traced nervously across the table. "He talks like a script...."

Her trusty agent sighed as he heard the somber tone in her voice. "Look, I know he's a little high strung, but I have to assure you that Mr. Dansen is-"

"I'm so tired of that phrase," Sylphen responded dolefully. "'I assure you'. Why can't something just feel right for once? Why does every gig have to be said twice before they feel like it must make sense? I love this job, but...." Her words slid into a frustrated sigh

"It's okay," Roger's airy tone consoled. "What makes you so nervous? Is it the nudity, or the afterparty?"

"Both," she grumbled, pulling the robe a little more closed.

The agent shifting himself over to place both hands on either shoulder, kneading them delicately as his concern grew.

"Look, I know you, and I know how you act when you get nervous," Roger murmured. "But in all seriousness, I wouldn't have taken this contract without seeing how excited you were about it. Now that we're in person, I imagine it's a little different, right?"

"Right," she followed him quietly.

"Maybe it just takes some getting used to," he informed calmly.

"Right...," she repeated. Then, she scowled and gave rougher nods. "Right!"

The flaps of the robe dispatched a couple inches while she looked down at herself. Between the crease of her large breasts, padded off to the sides, she saw that her navel was now exposed, jutting out and twisted from the small plume of belly fat. But this also meant her vagina was in full view, as well, which had been shaved clean specifically for the photos. A tiny gasp sucked in through her mouth as she covered herself back up. Her voice trailed off to a peep before she paused. She then exhaled through her nostrils and snapped her eyes shut, shaking her head as she sucked her teeth.

"I-I shouldn't have eaten that sandwich," Sylphen dolefully admitted, shaking her head as she talked, "or anything I've eaten since I've been on this trip. Shit...I should've fasted...god dammit, why did I let this get out of hand?"

"Miss Sylphen, please, you look healthy," Roger consoled sincerely. "Not as thin as other models, but still healthy. This is why people like you, remember? For the realism?"

Her sigh was as heavy as she slouched, a dead gaze at her belly. "I really should've just stuck to volleyball."

"Hey, hey, relax," the agent soothed. "Do you want a hug? I'll give you a hug."

"I think I do," she shyly nodded, getting up to face him. Once she did, Roger promptly wrapped his arms around her. He was slightly taller than her, so his head went over her right shoulder while he tightened his grip. Up this close, her vibrations were as clear as crystal.

"You know, the director was right about one thing," Roger claimed, still wrapped in the hug. "You really do have a beautiful body."

They pulled away. Her eyes traced to the ground, visibly considering it. The lynx was beginning to think he should've stuck to his word and not mentioned her figure. Then, much to his satisfaction, she responded with a subtle blush showing over a small dimple.

"You really think it'll all work out?" she cooed coyly.

"Absolutely," Roger urged. "There's a million helpless women out there who need a strong female figure in their lives. And right now, that's you. People are gonna _love_you.

"But...Mr. Dansen-" she began, concerned.

"Fuck Mr. Dansen," he confided. "Do it for the women of America. Not him."

The jitters in her body were growing smaller, replacing with a growing smile, knowing that soon, that was all she'd be wearing. The promise of it in the first place had knocked her off her feet. Now all that was left was to get back on them.

"Okay," she exacted in a puff of breath. "I think I'm ready."

She had stood up faster than the lynx expected. The front of her body was now the whole image in the mirror as she took a deep breath and loosened her grip. In a deep breath and one motion, she released it. Roger watched as she let the soft, turquoise fabric slide off her slender arms, down her back, and fall to the ground in a heap. Now, her cobalt blue skin made her luscious curves an amazing sight to behold, sandwiching the black outlined color scheme of her smooth grey skin. His eye traced to the mirror, up just above her deep navel, to see her bountiful breasts, cantaloupe-sized and exposed as ever with beautiful, puffy, pink nipples out the ends. Seeing this, his heartbeat began to intensify as his pants became denser. This was the first time he had ever seen her like this, and it was better than he had expected. Naturally, he let his gaze travel further downward, his breath getting heavier as he then caught sight of her pussy, which looked incredibly soft to the touch. It was a brain-buster to behold. Perverted thoughts corroded his mind as he imagined what it would be like to fiddle with her vulva between his fingers, but he tried not to let it get to his head. Easier said than done; his eyes then traced to her back, where he caught another sight of her vagina as a slit in the back of her voluptuous butt, but only for a moment as Sylphen turned towards him, grinning somewhat confidently.

"Thank you, by the way," she beamed at him. "For all of this."

It took a moment for the flustered lynx to respond. His eyes were like magnets to her enormous boobs, watching them jiggle slightly just from her turn from earlier. His lips were parted naturally, but a response didn't come to him for about three seconds.

"Yeah," he stammered quietly. "Ooh, uh, one more thing,"

He reached his hand under the fold of his overcoat. From it, he pulled a small, stick-shaped mechanical device that seemed to shift on its own in his hand. "The company requires you to put this...inside you, before we begin."

She pursed her lips curiously, but took it from his hand, anyways. "What is it?"

"Oh, uh, it's a device that's supposed to prevent you from getting turned on during the shooting," he explained, now scratching himself on the back of the neck, fighting to maintain eye contact.

"Turned on?" she repeated bashfully, then huffed. "What, do they think I have a fetish for this?"

"I don't know, it wasn't my decision," the lynx shook his head, smiling meekly. "I guess it's something about you looking all horny not...uh, giving the wrong impression, like you said."

"All right, then," she replied, just as puzzled. "Is there any way it's supposed to go in?"

"Vertically," he responded.

Her hand disappeared from his view as she nodded, which implied she was inserted it. This was confirmed as she brought both her hands back up in two thumbs up to his face, smiling a white grin directly at him. Malfunctioning, he mirrored her expression, but quickly faded it as he realized how ridiculous he looked. In a second, he was stoic again. "Good luck," Roger stated, trying to sound steely. "You look absolutely lovely, Miss Sylphen."

"Thank you, you too," she squeaked through a whisper, curtsying as she swayed by his side and walked out to the green screen.

Luckily, the tubular device didn't cause much discomfort in her nether region; that, she felt in her stomach as she reached the stool. Her flesh felt cold as she seated upon it, shivering as she looked forward and saw the twenty-or-so crew members eyeing her up and down. Her thighs shifted back and forth as she positioned her butt in a comfortable place. The stool was actually a little too small for her size, but it wasn't any big deal. So long as it wasn't done on purpose.

She somehow found comfort with her thighs rotated off slightly to the side, torso rotated towards the lens of the camera. All focus was on her, but so long as she focused on the right inanimate objects - the lens, the wall, the cameras - that wouldn't be too much. The stage was a game, and she was bending it to her will.

"How do you feel?" a voice called off from the distance. It was Mr. Dansen, calling from beyond the camera crew. She brushed her hair from her eyes.

"Um, I'm a bit nervous, actually," Sylphen beamed, tensing a bit.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks, it'll get easier," he called back, sparking a couple subtle laughs from the back of the room. "First, I'm gonna ask you to stay just like that, but grab the back of your head with your right arm, and lean back a little bit."

The tone of his voice was cheery and lighthearted, which Sylphen couldn't deny helped a bit. She nodded and flipped her hair back for a clearer look at her eyes while the camera lens stared her down like an eye on the wall.

"Actually, can you turn your head away from the camera?" Mr. Dansen instructed. "A little off to your right."

Mumbling, "Sure," she looked down and away, gazing at the ground as though it was a field of grass. Her left arm drooped lazily downward so that her wrist was out of view of the camera. Now, the light was really beginning to warm her body. Her mounds were shining like glimmers across a still ocean as she held the elegant pose. Knowing she was in it for the long run, she found herself lost in an empty gaze with the floor, staring deep into it, as if it was where she dropped her robe. And in a flash - literally - it was over.

"Excellent, Miss Sylphen!" Mr. Dansen complimented as the photographer gave a thumbs up. "Facial expression was perfect as well. More of that going forward."

She tilted her head curiously, a little startled, but holding a confident smile. Frozen in that position, her mind inspected every cranny of his statement. What about her face was so perfect? Maybe it was better if she didn't question it. Especially not with the crew in the back failing to hold back their obvious grins that seemed to direct right towards her-

FLASH!

The sudden burst of light got Sylphen off guard, snapping her eyes shut. When she opened them, she shot the cameraman an offended look.

"Sorry, chief," the avian photographer said in a Boston accent as he fixed his baseball cap. "She looked really cute there, figured we might leave it in and see what-"

"I don't pay you to dick around, Frank! Take the shots I tell you to take!" the agitated director growled, holding his palm out to him. He clearly could have gone further, but he instead mustered his most polite smile to the lady in front. "Apologies for that! Let's move on. Can we bring your legs forward, now?"

Oh god, this is it, Sylphen thought as she shuffled her closed thighs forty five degrees around the stool. Slowly, but surely, she turned her their place. And when she did, at least half the room began to blush as the crack of her velvety pussy came to its fullest display. The tremble down her spine that it gave brought a subtle bite to the lip, forcing her to look forward into the darkness. From that moment, she was given a barrage of instructions:

"Head tilt to the left!" Mr. Dansen commanded. "Little more! Perfect. Left arm over the head...over...good. Back straight, let your tail do its own thing. Great. Perfect! Now, look straight ahead. Take the shot!"

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

Her eyes widened reactively instead of blinking...but it wasn't because of the momentary blindness. Somehow, she was feeling a random pulse down on her lower section. Her legs shifted from side to side a couple inches and flexed, getting used to it. What just happened? Curiously, she looked down. The first thing she saw was that her vulva was now sporting a soft tinge of pink. Instantly, her teeth clenched under her lips.

What? She thought to herself. Should I tell them?

Mr. Dansen held a pointer finger up.

"Actually, we're gonna try that pose again," he suggested.

Her eyes widened. "Was there something that went wrong?"

"No, it's not you,_it's just...," he emoted as he circled his open palms, shaking his head, finding the words, "I wasn't really _feeling it. I think there needs to be something more. Let's try the same pose again."

The dragonness repositioned herself calmly to where it was before, then looked back towards him for the next orders.

"Pivot your torso a bit to the left," he instructed.

She did just that. Easy. The next one, not so much:

"Open your legs a bit," he suggested. "Just a few inches."

It was like a punch to the chest when that left his lips. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. But a job's a job. Slowly, her exhales thickened as her legs slightly parted, feeling more revealed every second. A suppressed thought, and a gentle exhale. Her heart skipped a beat or two as she almost seemed to flare from between her legs. But ultimately, it wasn't as hard as she thought. Amidst the carefully examining Mr. Denson and the suppressed somethings from behind the shadows, all was kept calm.

"Great work," the director exclaimed, nodding. "Now, gimme some sass!"

Great, she thought. Though she couldn't deny the hint of danger she felt. Carelessness, even. After all, her vagina was directly in the camera's view. Eyes narrowing and lip curling deviously, she channeled that part of her as best she could. And it undoubtedly worked when a barrage of flashing lights buffeted her once more:

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

With each shot, she felt a thump in her pelvis, warming up below until she felt the juices start to slide. What? The sensation was undeniable, and her response nearly erupted from her lips as the tingles of her nether region spread all throughout her body. As her bottom twisted uncomfortably on the stool, her mind raced to lewdness, thinking instantly of one of its legs lodged inside her, stretching her walls apart. But that was when it all came to her.

Oh god, she thought moments afterwards. This isn't supposed to be happening!

She took her first step down instinctively, but the director whistled for her attention before she got any further.

"Whoa, you lose your balance?" he laughed comfortably. "That's okay. We were going onto standing shots, anyways. Now, stand up make your body face right towards the lens."

With all her willpower, she wanted to blow the whistle, but she felt she couldn't trust him enough. The last thing she needed on a shot like this was to be judged. Perhaps they would notice her vulnerable state soon enough and maybe laugh it off and start again. The good outcomes were there, but none seemed to be in reach.

Mr. Danson, I'm feeling kinda funny, and...no..., she practiced in her head as her wobbly knees brought her to a full stand. Mr. Danson, something's going on with your device. It's giving off this sensation of...no! Ugh...!

"Now put your hands on your hips and tilt them," he told her. "Look off to the side like you're watching a sunset...but with sass."

"Ah, I love it!" Sylphen laughed.

Really? Again? she thought. Keeping her balance turned out to be a hell of a chore while her womanhood pulsed down below. The metal object could still be felt, but it appeared to be twisting and shifting against her walls remarkably more than it used to, massaging her inner flesh like a barreling finger.

Air flooded through her nostrils as she tried to calm herself down. All of her experience was beginning to fumble.

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

But it apparently was enough for them.

And again, she felt the pulse. Now, it was in her chest. It was like the outside skin of her breasts became hyper-sensitive to the non-existent wind. That was always her weakness; the insatiable urge to play with her own cleavage whenever she got horny. If only she could fondle her great mounds, feeling the tip of her nipples as she gave into the strange eroticism. But that was a terrible idea. Now, she was inhaling through her mouth, eyebrows furling as her knees began to gravitate towards each other. She couldn't do it. She couldn't look like this in front of all of them. So, she took a leap of faith:

"Uh, Mr. Danson?" she requested half-pleadingly. "I-I would like to request a brief intermission!"

'Intermission?" he asked aggravatingly. "We've still got about fifteen more poses to take."

"Uh...," she groaned, her mind racing for an excuse. "The lights! I feel dizzy. I think I need a glass of water!"

Mr. Danson seemed to scoff under his breath, but the look on his face confirmed all his thoughts, anyway.

"Five minutes," he nodded, clearly disgruntled. "Seth! Turn the lights down a notch, you're killing her."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed louder than Seth's response as her high heeled footsteps echoed off of every wall, getting quieter to the crew with each step towards her desk. She surely would have collided with one of two unsuspecting crew members shifting her desk around and going about their business had she not been so careful to not expose her horniness any further. Leaning against her desk, her agent instantly looked up as she approached his position, eyes widening in bewilderment.

"Roger!" she whispered ferociously. "Roger! Something's wrong with the device!"

The thunderous bounce on her chest woke him up faster than any alarm ever could.

"Wh-what seems to be the problem, Miss Sylphen?" he stammered, trying not to stare.

"That thing you gave me before," she panicked, "It won't stop moving! I don't know what's wrong with it."

"That's what it's supposed to do," he calmly stated. "It's just to reposition itself. That's what they told me."

"Yeah, well, it's rubbing up against me inside and turning me on!" she roughly admitted

Roger reeled back a bit. "Is...is that so?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" she confronted roughly, pointing downwards. "My vagina looks like a _fucking_Christmas tree!"

She pointed down at herself right in front of him, and his cheeks were instantly flushed beneath his fur upon seeing it. The fluorescent glow of the lit mirror behind him revealed her soft vulva, now saturating its bluish grey with a bright shade of red. Facially gesticulating his interest, he took a handkerchief off of his coat pocket and dabbed the sides of his face, observing it deeper.

"My, my," he nodded, sounding slightly impressed. "This seems to be...quite the predicament we have here."

"Yeah, and if we don't deal with this, I'm screwed," she ignored him, leaning forward, "I don't understand, it just kept getting worse with every picture they'd take!"

The model worried her way over to the cushiony chair as Roger held her sides by the forearms.

"I can't go back out there like this_,"_ she fretted.

"No need to be so stressed," he promised, now stroking his fingers through her hair. "This is just some kind of weird coincidence. We'll wait here until it subsides, and you'll be back out to do the job."

"It doesn't feel like it," she said skeptically, pushing her hair back to look at him. "There has to be something wrong with that thing you told me to use."

"I...I'm sorry, I don't have all the details," he shrugged defeatedly. "It was given to me this morning by one of the tech guys, and they said it would help you stay calm."

"Well, tell him to take it back!" she pleaded, now a bit louder. "It's doing the exact opposite."

The furled feline paused for a moment, scratching his chin as he began to think. He had turned away from her, both to have a clearer head and some breathing room in his pants. It wasn't too much longer before he quipped back with a question.

"You said it happened every time the camera flashed, correct?" Roger asked. "I suspect maybe the camera flashes are causing it to malfunction?"

"No, I think it's too far inside me for that," she resigned.

"Open your legs," he requested promptly.

She turned a raised eyebrow towards him. "What?"

Back to stoic, he stammered, "I-I mean, at some point, had they requested you to open your legs?"

"Ugh...," she scoffed, turning her attention to the desk in an almost brooding fashion, "yes, they did. It started happening when I brought my legs to the front. Then, when I stood up, it must've slid down just enough, or something. Whatever the case, now it feels like it's moving."

"Maybe it can't stop," he proposed thoughtfully. "Can you reach down there and get it? It must not have fallen far."

She nodded as she looked down at herself. Her fingers traveled downward and tested it out, fumbling around the tight slit while the sensation made her grunt through her throat. But when they were removed, she came out with nothing.

"What?" she shook her head. "I thought it was...oh, shit...."

"Maybe it somehow made its way back up," Roger shrugged, worrying again. putting down his notepad. "Perhaps you should dig a little deeper for the-"

"Enough with the fancy talk; you're my only hope!" she pleaded aggressively. "Get in there!"

"What?" he exclaimed shockingly.

"Please!" she pleaded. "You have longer fingers, right? I can trust you to find it."

The lynx didn't think he'd get this far, but he couldn't let his surprise stop him now. Time was moving in milliseconds as Roger gulped and knelt down beside her. He took a deep breath. Then, he inserted two fingers. Instantly, he felt what she was dealing with, caressing the warmth of her flesh while he desperately searched. Breathing fast, he looked around wildly around the stage, praying to god nobody was watching what was unfolding as he dug a little bit deeper for the betterment of the show.

But it wasn't going as planned. Sylphen was holding back loud moans between her teeth. Any one of them could have alerted one of the crew members, and they'd be toast.

"I'm sorry, Miss Sylphen," he begged.

Thinking in fragments, the rushing agent latched a hand around her mouth to muffle any further sounds. Luckily, nobody was looking their direction, so they were one percent safer than expected. Quickly, his fingers dug even deeper, curling and straightening as he searched for the unfamiliar prick of metal lodged somewhere deep inside of her.

"Mmmmph...mmmmph!!" the squirming model moaned. "MMMMMMPH!"

The muscles in her jaws and cheeks winced and flexed as Roger's fingers were suddenly locked in an iron grip and flooded. Startled and fearful, he gasped loudly as the warm liquid rushed past every crack that it could on its way out the passage, finally spilling in flying drips on its way down to the floor. The lynx's mouth was agape, both impressed that she was a squirter and that he had even gotten this far. Better yet, that caused the device to push close enough to his hand to grab onto.

"Almost there, sweetheart," he triumphantly stated.

Poor choice of words, but he was right, as the tips of his fingers barely graced the edge of the tubular object's caps. It seemed to poke and prod at the patches of his skin, but before he could dig them in further, he realized that he was as far as it could go. As quickly as he had felt it, it seemed to disappear again, completely out of his reach.

"Dammit!" Roger cursed, fiddling around inside of her for a few more useless moments before he finally pulled out. "I'm sorry, I couldn't get it."

_"_Damn...." she breathed, seeming to sink in her spot. Her agent was still baffled from what had just happened. But she at least seemed to be relaxing. Before he could ask for any details, the distorted sound of their time running out boomed across the room:

"We need Miss Sylphen back on set in thirty more seconds!" Mr. Dansen announced from around the corner.

"Shit...," they both cursed together. Roger then picked up some of the makeup tools placed in a stylish row across the table and applied what he could to her face, trying to hide all the blush. He then applied the same to her vagina, which was now in a complete mess of arousal and passion like she had just felt.

"Let's just hope your fluids killed the circuitry," Roger shrugged. "Madam, I'm sorry. Please, just finish this show up right."

But instead of walking straight to set, Sylphen rose with a pouty expression, looking him straight in the eye. Then, her hands locked around his face and pulled him in, kissing him right on the lips for a full two seconds before pulling away.

"I needed that," she whispered.

Roger couldn't help but feel touched as she whirled around and walked back towards the stage. With bewilderment, he watched her wide, blue thighs jiggle with every passionate step snapping to the ground, itching and glowing, but nonetheless tolerating the device that still barely whirred inside of her.

____________________________________________________________________________

The full experience was a decadent massacre of the senses. The atmosphere was hot, yet chilling to the touch. The makeup had at least done its part of not making her crotch look red, as did her cheeks, but the stimulation that device gave off turned into nothing more than a waiting game. On time went, and their commanding words chased her outer beauty into expression, flipping her like a voodoo doll that desired a different kind of pin. One pose after another, her walls roaring, the pleasure was just barely enough to hide.

Huge breasts tingling, she quietly puffed out her sexual struggle and fought the urge to touch herself. The recesses emotions were that of an eager after-sex walk to the shower, her hair frizzing of stalks and wisps in all directions. But her hair was fine for now, and the only thing wet was her part down below. It was like trying to tame a waterfall. Her breath was tumultuous and blissful as her sensitive body was flared below, licking her lips and puffing her cheeks each time they gave her a break. They had her lean back, part her arms, other times, even lay down, and every time, it was like more fuel to the invisible flame. After about thirty minutes, it was clear: they truly had no idea what they were doing to her.

A barrage of flashing light across thirty-five photos, and her body could hardly take the heat. Drips of gleaming moisture on the stool was a small crime scene for the magnitude of her immense arousal. Though it wasn't visible now that she was standing directly in front of it, hands firmly on her tilted hips, nervous finger to her parted lips, once again taking a direct hit of light.

Luckily, the device had been far too lodged inside her for any more flash induced malfunctions, but the damage had already been done. She couldn't say it, but her body was a flaming mess. Tongue flicking around her mouth, pussy itching for pressure, the prayers for her release were swimming around in her mind, all up to the point of finality when Mr. Dansen would say....

"All right, one more pose!" he ardently called. "We're gonna need to you to put one arm across your breasts and a hand down at your crotch, then look to the right like you're pondering something deep."

Good god, she thought exhaustingly. They had to save the pose where she touched herself for last. She held her breath and positioned herself exactly how they wanted. Her cheeks were instantly ablaze as her fingers graced her clitoris. Even the slightest brush would be enough to send a wave of stimulation through her body. But apparently, she had nailed the form, because Frank was quick to end the deal:

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

"All right!" Mr. Dansen said after a bit. "We're good!"

The camera crew erupted in a round of applause, finally satisfied with their creation. The uproar of attention cracked a smile onto Sylphen's face, but she was still frozen in place, keeping the same pose. She had known how directors notoriously bring up last minute remarks. Her eyes were locked onto Mr. Dansen's silhouette. But her fears were not granted.

"Miss Sylphen, you can go now!" the smiling director said lightly. "Thank you so much for your hard work."

"Ah-it's no trouble!" she responded, instantly turning away. Finally done, she walked off, her stride looking far more clumsy than triumphant. She practically stumbled her way back to her desk, brushing straight past Roger as she shook her way down to her desk. Awkwardly, she sat atop it, a sideways-laying pencil over a scribbled-up notepad to her side.

"Spectacular work, Miss Sylphen," the lynx exaggerated, smiling slyly. "Nobody suspected a thing."

Her right hand was still at her crotch, just barely twitching above the skin as she quietly hissed her pleasures.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," she explained, her eyebrows concave and vexed. "Listen - you need to get this thing out of me."

"Of course, my lady," Roger responded, reaching down over her ottoman to retrieve the fallen teal robe. "Put this on. We'll have to relocate."

Her hands latched like predators onto the fabric, swiping it back around her body as they once again headed for the door. Barely holding the robe together by the clutch of her tiny hands, Roger had to shove it open with the handlebar before poor Sylphen would have barged straight through. Had it been any other way, she would've told her to calm down, but if her patience was running thin, so was his. That's why they were rushing through the rest of the studio, ignoring all the confused questions, gawks, gestures of admiration and congratulatory statements of fellow workers as they made a break for Sylphen's main dressing room. Key in his pocket and a raging fire in his mind, he wasn't sure what would happen, but one thing's for sure: no one was coming inside.

Faster and faster their footsteps were ravaging the eardrums of each room that they past, until they reached a white hallway, where it reverberated as they bolted for the third door. It was impossible to miss: a pink door sparkled with diamonds on the rims, embroidered in gold just on eye level: "Sylphen". Roger plunged the key in the handle and twisted it, following through with her as they barreled inside, and in one swift movement, closed and locked it behind them.

The dragonness was huffing and puffing as she stumbled across the pink, fluffy carpet, nearly collapsing butt-first onto her stylish lavender couch. The mirrors lined up across the entire back of the dressing room reflected on the back of her now unkempt hair while she lazily slumped downward. The chandelier shone to life after Roger flicked on the light switch, revealing the mahogany floorboards reflecting the light bulbs roughly off its finish. Every wall was checkerboarded with white cubbies containing designer handbags, lines of hanged, ornate, dresses of every color you could imagine, coats that puffed and frizzed and golden-cornered, leather briefcases that somehow contained even more luxury. Whatever clothing wasn't in plain sight was stowed away in one of the large, white dressers that nearly touched the ceiling. As her robe slid towards the floor, Roger made sure to admire her every detail as he cautiously approached the babe.

Her luscious boobs splayed to each side as her miniscule body rolls warped from her slouch. She locked a side eye onto him, then doubled with a flip of the hair, finally spreading her legs apart. Roger's heart instantly jumped as he lay his eyes on the beauty's engorged opening, now fully red, since the makeup had smudged off. The sight of it made the fur on his neck frizz and prickle as he stood there, hesitating from the pressure.

"What on earth are you doing?" Sylphen asked impatiently. "Just get in there!"

In one second, the feline was on his knees, gulping and cracking his fingers before shoving two of them in. Noticing how much tighter and warmer his pointer and middle fingers were, he had no trouble wriggling them about. It was like his fingers were being hugged by a sponge filled with warm water. He was beginning to become aroused, himself, as he shoved it in deeper, from which she mumbled and squealed with delight from above. Roger was huffing in anticipation, silently praying his refuge would come and he'd feel the curve of that pesky cylinder in no time. That was the plan. He was going to find this, no matter what. He shoved his fingers in a bit further; now down to the second joint, and her legs flexed in response.

Jackpot, he thought as he felt its curve meet his fingernail. It had clearly descended from how slick she was inside. Now all that was left was to pull it out. He reached another inch, scissoring it by the edge, and slowly pulled it all the way through her passageway, hearing her purrs of pleasure all across the way. In a yank, the cylinder was out, perpetually twisting around like the broken machine it was. Nevertheless, he tossed it aside and forgot about it, half smiling as he eyed her needy expression.

"I believe that should do it," he reassured, almost standing up.

"Not yet, kitten," Sylphen breathed as she placed a hand on his shoulder and pressured him down. "Think you can eat me out?"

The lynx's eyes widened again. "Miss Sylphen, I...."

"I know, Roger, but," she pleaded, lurching forward, "I'm so close, and I've never felt this close to you before!"

"Ma'am, I think you're being a bit overdramati-"

"Please!"

One thing's for sure, he never expected her to get this emotional whenever she became horny. But his shaky breaths didn't amount to anything if he didn't try. He had a closet of his own to clean, and there couldn't have been a better time to do it. What did he have to lose against her? Easier said than done, as he became inches away from her aroused pussy.

"All right," he nodded awkwardly, lowering his neck, "very well, then."

The tip of his tongue met her clitoris, and the rest of it followed afterwards as he began to lick it. He drew it down to her vulva, which was the smoothness of a bowling ball, yet the softness of pillows, giving her everything a good taste. He didn't quite know what he was doing, but figured he didn't have to at this rate. Because with the volume of her moans silenced by nothing else in the room, she was already close to collapse. Roger pressed himself deeper, feeling her every curve on his tongue, rising his pressure upon it. And she felt passionate as the time passed, growing in arousal, herself before her final, suppressed squeal:

" Hrrnngh...aa- aaagh!" she yelped as she squirted fiercely, directly into her agent's face. Roger blushed hard as her juices splashed against him, blushing hard as it sprayed, his erection shoving against his black pants. In the aftermath, she was left shut-eye and vibrating, now relaxing even further down her seat. Though he was still a bit shaken, the lynx got up and sat on the couch beside her, hands touched down towards his pelvis as he looked at her intently.

"Is there...anything _else_I can do for you, my lady?" he asked earnestly. "Can I wrap my arms around you?"

Sylphen gave him a look of ridiculousness, but then shut her eyes and laughed, throwing her head back.

"Honey, I'll let you do a lot more than that," she raspily cooed, stretching. "After all, I've never really rewarded you as my agent."

"You know I don't need any of that," he crooned honestly. "I'm just here to get you the jobs that you need, and support you every step of the way."

The model stared at him. "And what if this happens again?"

For a moment, he was frozen. His fingertips touched together as his words came out as a drone.

"And...," he mumbled nervously, "if there comes a time, where...one of these urges should happen again...then...then...."

"Oh, for god's sake, Roger," she giggled as she rose to her feet, kicking off her heels one foot at a time. "You know you want me that way. I've known that for a while now, too. So, let's not think about work right now. Why not try being a little _un_professional for once?"

His stern expression had been absolutely wracked with excitement and nerves instead. And when he spoke again, not a word was stuttered:

"I suppose we could...entertain that," he spoke softly.

Sylphen's eyebrow raised as her smile became hornier. She reached her hand down to his trousers and placed the zipper between her thumb and pointer fingers.

"Why don't we start with this?" she asked as she unzipped it, then unbuttoned the pants, pulling them down to his ankles. As the lynx's black spotted legs were exposed, his breath quickened, but it was from excitement after the babe saw his boxers. A lick at her lips. In an instant, his underwear was down, and all five inches of his length showed in full, humanoid and hard as a rock. With no hesitation, she took it in her hand.

Her mouth enveloped his hardness, and Roger sucked air through his nose upon feeling it. He couldn't help but moan a bit, himself, as she moved it up and down his dick, her tongue slicking his shaft to his head. It was impossible for him not to smile from the pleasure. But somehow, he required something different. The look of her eyes just didn't seem okay. Despite everything, his penis was growing softer.

"Wait, what's the matter?" Sylphen asked dolefully. "Am I not doing a good job?"

"No, you're doing fantastic, it's just...," Roger sighed shamefully. "I don't feel quite right."

"Why's that?" she tilted her head.

"I don't want your mouth to be a part of this," he admitted. "It seems too...controlling? I think that's it. Plus, I've had...something else on my mind for a while."

She leaned forward, stressed. "It's not another girl, is it?"

"No, bloody hell no, of course not," the lynx snorted calmly. "It's just...you know, I look at you, and you're...well, rather busty, and...."

That's when he realized he was cupping his hands to emote his words. Roger sucked his teeth and then blushed, putting his hands down and shaking his head.

"So...you like my boobs?" Sylphen mused, fondling their undersides slightly as she grinned back at him.

"Yeah, and I was wondering if you could...you know...," Roger droned on, "...get me off, but...you know, with your...."

Her mouth hung wide open.

"Are you asking for a titfuck?" she exclaimed childishly, and the agent leaned back in embarrassment. "Oh my god, I haven't been asked that in years!"

Roger couldn't help but laugh guiltily with her, gazing off to the side, not realizing she had gotten up to walk the other direction. He was feeling some disbelief, too, after hearing that. But at least it was off his chest.

"Yes, yes, that's it," he croaked, rolling his eyes. "I know it's unorthodox, but-"

"Oh, shut up and enjoy the show," she teased playfully as she suddenly engulfed his cock in her boobs.

The sight of his dickhead peeking out the crevice of her cleavage gave him an enormous smile. It was like two warm pillows pressuring around him. She gave him the lewdest smile he had ever seen as she poured on a hearty dosage of lube from a bottle that she had seemingly got from nowhere. The warm fluid cascaded down her mounds and caressed his length, as well. Her smirk then turned into a grin as she grabbed each side of her boobs and bounced them up and down, feeling him twitch and harden between her.

The connection was divine. Her tender softness jerked off his throbbing member while he blushed furiously in pleasure. He couldn't help but become mesmerized in the ripples and waves her boobs made each time it smacked against his pelvis. Head tingling with pleasure, small strings of fluid stretched between her again and again as they repeatedly plopped against him, its mass squashing on impact before it was back up again to please him from shaft to head. The look on his face was nothing but bliss.

"Oh god, Sylphen," Roger moaned out loud. "I'm gonna..."

"You're gonna cum?" she teased him. "You gonna cum all over my big tits?"

"Yes...yes, oh god...oh god!" Roger whined as he tensed up, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes. Sylphen bit her lip, savouring his expression as she pressed firmly around his length. His dick head was only peeking out beneath her tits when he came, struggling to hold back the moans of pleasure as he shot hot ropes directly onto her chin. Aroused and firmly pleased, he kept firing cum as he watched it cascade down her neck, dripping onto her collar bone. She smiled at him as every drop made its way down to coat her breasts. The sight of her chest made him incredibly flustered, and it made her giggle out loud.

"You know, that's the fastest any guy has ever cum for me, right?" Sylphen laughed. "You came so much, too...."

"Well, it was a hell of a job," Roger laughed back at her, "I'll give you that!"

"I'm still a little horny, you know," Sylphen mused. "If you want, we can fuck on the couch."

Roger looked up again. "You serious?"

The blue lass drew her fingers across the wet, sticky fluid across her left breast as she glared at him like a swan. With grace, she brought the hand back to the cock between her mounds, placing a gentle grip on the shaft and gliding through his slickness.

"Well, you're still hard," she cooed, darting her eyes between him and his length, "and we've gotten this far. Might as well go the full way."

The tone of her voice as she ended her sentence made it sound more like a question than a request. Though it also showed perhaps a moment of shame. Grace? Roger couldn't tell. He was in too deep of the gaze in her eyeballs as they wordlessly worked out the details. A wink from her, a nod from him. Smiles of acknowledgement. He already knew she was on birth control, so there was nothing to worry about. But that was already clear as they studied their eyes.

Like magic, he was brought to taking off his sports coat, still not breaking eye contact. He tossed it aside like a slob with a used handkerchief. Then he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the brown and black tufts and spots of fur that decorated his chest beneath it. Further down his hands travelled down, undoing the last three buttons as he shook with nervous jitters. He took a deep breath in. The undershirt was tossed aside, unveiling the tiny pudge of his belly. Feeling freer, he smiled at her, and they ascended to their feet.

It was more of a blip in time than a tangible moment when they switched places. Sylphen's eyes were the color of ice, but the radiance of fire. With no hesitation, her legs parted to each side, her thick body comfortably sinking into the cushions of the couch. Roger's erection throbbed as he eyed down the babe he had been working with for over a year. The cum was still on her breasts, and it only made her look shinier. In the most unexpected way, she looked absolutely beautiful. Roger couldn't help but feel a little stuck just from looking at her like this. But she was prepared for this, too.

He cursed all the days he didn't try sooner the moment his tip touched her opening. It hadn't even penetrated yet, but the feeling of its passage made him shiver in anticipation. Sylphen gave a subtle laugh at his shyness as she reached around and grabbed his penis gently, cradling it with her fingertips. She was ready. Sliding it in, she smiled brightly at him as she felt the warm, solid flesh penetrate into her soaking walls, clenching her quads in pleasure and satisfaction.

It only took a few moments before her agent got the hang of it. Back and forth, hands tight around her hips, digging into her luscious curves, he was fucking her like the eager man he was. The room was filled with grunts, aroused chuckles and wet smacking as they rocked each other's bodies. Again and again he slammed further into her tight embrace, feeling the intense warmth around his hardness as her hands felt up and down his body like overactive magnets. Her large boobs bounced up and down, mirroring the gleeful bliss that she felt in the thrum of their desires.

Rough exhales showed the extent of his intense satisfaction. He bent down and planted a kiss on her lips while his hips seemingly moved on their own. In an instant, they felt the connection, like a circle of fire that kept arousing them further by the second. Passionately he held it there, receiving her decadent submission in return, tongues intertwining between the bridge of each other's lips while her vagina was rammed down below.

Lost in the moment, their lust for each other was insatiable. Shaking with arousal, his thrusting became rampant, pulling almost all the way out entirely before ramming back in, in quick succession. Her moans were elongating as she smiled brightly, enjoying every second of it. The intensity of the room was rising as if the walls would fold open like backwards origami to a field where no one would ever be. With it, Roger's mind began to melt. At first, incoherent, but then, like a code, it formed. And like a whore in a confession booth, the horny agent began to spit his dirty, filthy truth:

"You know, when I saw you up on that stage," Roger roughly admitted between grunts, "all I wanted to do was fuck you in front of everyone!"

"Oh, you dirty _bastard,_Roger!" Sylphen moaned passionately, grabbing onto the back of his neck. "Tell me more!"

"They all would have watched us, Sylphen...," he described with vigor, "they would have watched us all fuck like animals! Just like this, Sylphen!"

"Just like this?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, god!"

"And now, I have you...."

He leaned in deeper to see the twinkle of her orgasm-ready eyes.

Their lips punched together, as their moans of pleasure blended together like their saliva. Twice today, three times for her, they were cumming so hard they thought they could collapse from the heat of the astonishing moment. It was like a volcano trapped in a vacuum. Her hands were feeling up and down her agent's body, feeling herself filling up with his semen, shuddering like a rabid firefly in his passion. Her opening had soon begun to drip with both of their fluids, nearly soaking the spot of the couch beneath them as they let the afterglow flourish with their fiery makeout session.

Roger was still humping his softening penis inside her even minutes after it was all over, while he savoured the taste of his client's lips. It all happened so fast that he was halfway convinced it was all a dream. A single tear rolled down his cheek. The blue babe pulled away to look in his eyes, stroking the top of his head, to the back of his neck.

"Roger," she slowly whispered, "that was amazing."

Still speechless and shaken up, he nodded slowly. A short exhale escaped his nostrils implying his regards. He couldn't help but get a little lost in her eyes when he was like this, still tingling down below in pleasure.

A knock sounded onto the door. Startled, they both whirled their heads to it. No time had passed at all before it was vociferously getting faster. Both their expressions turned to unamused awe as they looked at each other. They cursed quietly in unison as both of their rose to their feet, their arms flailing across the couch and the floor as they scrambled to put on their clothes. Sylphen found her robe still on the ground and wrapped it on herself while Roger fought to put her suit back together. Little by little, as their arousal faded into a puddle of anxiety, the knock was audibly rivaling gunshots across the walls of the room.

"Whoever that is, I'm terribly sorry!" the feline called stressfully as he threw on his overcoat, fast walking to the door. "I'll be out...in just...a minute...hello there!"

Once he opened the door, he saw the face of his boss turn from red with frustration to pale with confusion. The curl on the pudgy mouse's black, bushy mustache furled like the wrinkles on his pencil gray suit and tie, and the expression on his face told him for sure that he hadn't quite dressed himself up enough.

"What, did a tornado go through this place?" he asked in bafflement. "If i see you come to work like this one more time, I'll have you fired on the spot!"

"My apologies, Mr. Pincent, we've had a bit of a crazy day," Roger apologized, trying to obstruct his path of vision towards the couch. "I didn't come to work like this, I just-"

"I don't care!" the mouse boomed, shoving the packet of papers into the agent's chest, which he gladly took. "I got three more bookings for Miss Sylphen. Fill them out by the end of today. Got it?"

"G-"

The door slammed in his face.

Both of them were frozen in place for a bit, thanking god their boss hadn't needed anything from the room. Then, Roger moved to a nearby table and placed the papers down.

"You know, that was about to be the worst coverup of all time," Sylphen told him. "I know, but it doesn't matter now," Roger sighed. "He said he needed these by the end of today. 'Should probably get started on them now."

"But that's six hours from now," the model pointed out.

"Yes, I know," he nodded, "but what else am I supposed to do today?"

"Well," she mused, undoing her robe, "you can fuck my tits again."

Roger shot a lustful stare at her.

____________________________________________________________________________

Three weeks had passed. It was June now, and every cubicle and officer door were open to the daily morning mishmash of workdays they'd be sure to get. But there was one door that stayed closed. It was the one to Roger's office, still dim despite all the sunlight seeping through the cracks of the window blinds. Two days ago, he had left without any warning to the office. Most didn't even realize he had left. They'd only get a clue once they saw the note taped to the inside of his door. He had torn off a page from his notepad, and scribbling on the back of it, "GONE FOR 6 WEEKS".

Mr. Pincent was the only one with the key to his office, as he contained a copy of every one that existed. There was much to do that day, so his stride was quick, eager to deliver the packet of documents in his hand. Approaching the door, he took one look at the letter and scoffed at it, bringing the corresponding replica key to his handle.

The door creaked open, and the mouse flicked on the light switch. The room was so vacant it could fit the definition of a cobweb. A bookshelf filled with books collecting dust was off to his left and he stepped through the green carpeted floor, towards the sleek shine of the agent's wooden desk. He could see a shape on it in the distance. When he got closer, he realized it was yet another note. Usually whenever Roger had a good reason to leave, he'd send paragraphs through the email. But this was handwritten. Putting the documents down next to it, he read it to himself:

Dear Mr. Pincent,

_ My only request is that you keep the details of this letter under your eyes only._

_I understand your frustrations towards the sudden leave to Tancun Island with Miss Sylphen. For that, I sincerely apologize. However, following the massive success of her centerfold shooting, there was nowhere to look but the data, which stated her fans were craving for more of her. So, I left the next gig up to her. _

At the time of you reading this, we are collaborating with photographers and designers for the best swimsuit photos we can get at their most prized beaches. We are currently getting flooded with requests, but we will have all of it delivered through email before we are back.

But more than that, I had gone on Miss Sylphen's request after she had informed me of her most personal memories. Specifically, of the volleyball courts. Truthfully, I could sense her longing for her old job back, and I thought I could make things a bit more comfortable for her. I believe it would help everybody in the long run if we entertained the idea of curvy figures in athletics.

To put it simply, she has a passionate voice that deserves to be heard. There is more to come from this. Maybe it's a leap of faith, but after my time with her, I believe there is a lot more left to uncover in terms of profits and gain.

I will leave that part up to you. But for now, I want to see how the people like Miss Sylphen for her.

With regards,

Roger Hetchinson

The big cheese set the note back down, tilting his head slightly. Roger's prudence shone through. Yet, it still felt like a word or two was missing. The vagueness of its nature left the boss in a state of wonder and intrigue.

He made sure the door was shut tight on his way out. Roger probably had it under control.