Philippa Dixon, in person. But... he had the distinct memory that he had come in to talk to a Dr. Philip Dixon, a distinguished grey-bearded gentleman...in his 60s, wearing a conservative double-breasted gray suit with an old-fashioned pocket watch dangling from a heavy gold chain. Dana shook his head. More of this "unreality" shit (awareness displacement, one or the other Dr. Dixons had named it) that had been bugging him ever since he'd started having that damn dream.1953 was going to be a good. He had threatened the last couple of times to bring his friends with him. She always thought that he was teasing; apparently not. “What time should I expect you?” she simply asked. “After dark. You know what position I like you best in,” Damon said as he hung up. Pandora hurried to her bathroom, paying special attention to her pussy and ass. Once her body was entirely free of hair, she dried off and reached for a jar of Vaseline. Bracing her foot on the vanity, she dipped her fingers into. More

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