" Nice, aren't they." The captain sniggered after the raspy voice from the microcom had delivered its message. Myron, the helmsman, managed a nervous ...mile in reply. The captain turned back to his console and gave his reply in the same droning voice that the NASS operator had. "We are 'Free Lunch', freelance merchant, registered in Old Eurasia, ID: 791114SVE. We carry Terran cattle the New Amazonan government. We have license to conduct trade on New Amazona."The captain transmitted the message. I knew if it worked she would do it, but wouldn’t enjoy it considering I was her son-in-law. But, in my mind I was going to force her to enjoy it.At this point in the story, Jane is 53 and I am 37. She still looked great, but she added a new feature a few years back, breast implants. To me they looked wonderful and helped fill out her already curvaceous figure. I bided my time until Mike went out of town on business. Then, I called Jane and asked if I could borrow one of Mike’s tools. Sure, she. More

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