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What a job though. More than that: what a ride, to ride the plume.It was long, and arduous, and for the better part boring. In essence, a real job. I played out a lot of fantasies involving myself. It was an advice Yar had given me and had paid off handsomely, saved some of my sanity. It was an inherent property of the plume: the lab monkeys had gone apeshit with all the data they were getting.I simply had to imagine it, merely think about something solid and irrefutably real, and it would make sense and appear. I could grow limbs, swim in oceans of lava, fly like a unicorn across the rainbow. There were no bars or limits: in the realm of transluminar wave-particle inference entity projection, I was more than king; I was God. It was my domain. And without all the moments I had wished I was dead, I could not have cherished the moments when I felt myself oscillate in tune with the universe, or at least what little of it I could feel and see through the Plume.Outside, in the real world,. I had a raging boner and I wanted to use it. As we danced, I decided I would make my move. I went in for the kiss, she was hesitant at-first. "Why did you do that!?" "I dunno," I replied. In that state of mind, that was a true statement. I went in for the kiss again, only this time she lifted the intensity and planted one electric kiss on the dance floor which made my toes curl up. We were making out for what felt like five minutes. It was probably closer to a half hour in sober standard time. "Let's go." We mission walked to her place, although instead of going to her place we took the elevator to the party rooftop. She opened the door and noticed nobody around. It was a weeknight and very late, so that was no surprise. Aside from some chairs, a BBQ and windows looking into the gym, there wasn't much. We proceeded to sit down and makeout some more. My fingers were rubbing her clit, making her moan softly against my ear. I pulled her underwear off without a reaction. I kept going for.
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