There were jumpers there; the thick woollen ones which had hidden Justine’s body from view but had somehow served to emphasize her curves. I’d lov...d Justine’s curves… just to have touched them, if but once. Well, I could touch them now, in a way. I ran my left hand over the prickly softness of the wool, feeling an acceleration of my pulse as my hand moved over where Justine’s breast would have been. My cock throbbed its delighted, if dumb response. It wasn’t real, but it felt real. I was. From the tournament of two years ago, she remembered the great time she had had shopping in the exclusive local Super Mall. All the players would get the opportunity to shop around in that palace of decadence. It seemed like the pinnacle of the world's haute couture, jewelry and other lifestyle-stuff was gathered there. Truly the favourite habitat for the expensive Russian. And in return for a couple of pictures of her checking out some stuff (unpayable publicity!), she could even choose some. More

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