She walked into the room with a swaggering confidence that i thought i'd never have. She tossed her hair, a fibre-optic mane the exact same shade of fake red as mine, and dropped her bag onto the armchair.
It was the most gorgeous bag i'd ever seen; a deeply loved light tan leather with the sort of buckles a pirate would wear. I fell in love with it at an embarrassingly indecent speed, and wanted to own it, right now.
I caught the hem of my summer frock with one hand, to stop myself from reaching out to take up that bag and hold it to my chest like a long lost child.
'So,' i said, 'What's news?'
Those eyes that i knew so well turned to me, and one eyebrow arched so severely that i felt my own twitch in sympathy.
'You know you're not allowed to ask that,' she said. 'It's against the rules.'
She was wearing a long coat and scarf, and i watched with quiet envy as she unwound that scarf from her neck and allowed it to slither onto the armchair beside that bag. Even the way that she unbuttoned that military-style coat was elegant, sophisticated. Far beyond my clumsy, twenty-something fumbles.
'Would you like a drink?' i asked, trying hard to impress, gesturing with my spare hand toward the cocktail cabinet.
She shucked off the coat in three careful shrugs.
'I would like to drink from your cunt,' she said, as if asking for a gin and tonic. I felt myself go wet at her words, my breath catching just a fraction. I saw in her eyes that she knew exactly the effect she was having on me.
I looked around the little cabin for something else to offer her. I knew the place pretty well by then. I'd been waiting there since ten that morning, and it was now after two; a gloriously unseasonal autumn day, the air blood warm. I could smell the late honeysuckle pimping for birds and bees out in the garden. Everything was just so... romantic.
'Take off your dress. I want to see you,' she said, kicking off her shoes.
I forced myself not to look at her shoes. I knew how fantastic they'd be.
I pulled my frock over my head. My boobs weren't much, but my nipples were erect, so that was something. She was unbuttoning her blouse, and then unclipping her corset, and her boobs - much fuller than mine, but the work so fine you couldn't even see where it had been done - were soon bouncing naked and free on her chest.
Outside, a bird whistled to itself, showing off for its own benefit.
'Lie down,' she said, loosening the internal sashes of her skirt. I did as i was commanded, and then watched as she shed the last of her designer fabrics.
Unless you counted her skin as a designer fabric, of course.
She was fabulously well preserved, there was no other way to say it. She was at least ten years older than me, but we looked the same age. She had had every hair of her muff removed, while i still had all mine, and that made her look even a little younger than me.
'Open your legs,' she said, as if she were asking me to pass her a magazine i was reading.
I opened my legs.
She prowled onto the bed, the way Mister Jinks, my cat, would when i turned in for the night. Except Mr Jinks never licked from my knee to my cunt the way she started doing. I gripped the headboard, and felt shuddered by such a cacophony of confused emotions that i wasn't sure whether i wanted to cum or vomit.
I did neither, not straight away.
Her tongue darted over my cunt lips the way that only someone very familiar with a cunt - and mine in particular - would know how to. I pushed gently with my bottom to open myself up more, and she knew exactly what i was doing. Immediately her tongue was inside me.
She explored the torn fringes of my hymen gently, darting up to flick at my clitoris every so many heartbeats.
It all felt so utterly wrong and so utterly right, both at the same time. I was literally dizzy with confusion and had to hang on to that headboard for grim death.
She started to use her fingers on me. I felt their firm insistence accompanying the stocking texture, the wet warmth of her tongue. She parted me, slid a finger into my vagina, and went straight to my g-spot. That was how i came, moments later, with her massaging my clit with her tongue, and massaging my g-spot with her fingers.
The orgasm was a series of near-fatal electric shocks. I closed my eyes and disappeared for the entire time that those pulses were grasping my body and squeezing.
When i opened my eyes i wanted her cunt on my mouth, my tongue in her gash, but she was kneeling, looking down at me.
'So beautiful,' she said, a little sadly. 'Your cheeks are flushed, and your breasts...'
'Shhh,' she shushed me, leaning forward and putting the finger she'd just had inside me against my lips. I smelt the tang of my own cunt on her, and wanted to suck that finger, taste myself.
She stood up, started to dress.
I couldn't believe it was over so soon.
'Can't you stay a little longer?' i asked, trying not to sound desperate and needy.
'Rules,' she said, not sounding all that upset that she had to leave. 'I can only stay for a short time, you know that. Otherwise, the risk increases that something could happen. I could say something or... It's the rules.'
She had her skirt fastened, and she was picking up the coat.
'But...can you tell me... is everything alright?'
She looked at me with such sadness and pity in her eyes. She reached out from buttoning up her blouse to place her palm on my cheek.
'Now Honey, that's exactly the sort of question that i can't answer.'
I felt a little ashamed. I'd read all the literature. I should have known better.
I looked at the handbag.
'Can you at least tell me where you found the bag?'
She smiled, a little indulgently, i thought.
'You'll know the bag when you see it, won't you? Can you remember that long?'
I nodded. I could remember ten years. Especially a bag that beautiful.
I could remember long enough into my future to find that bag, when it came time for me to be her, finally.
'Now i have to go, Honey. We don't want a retrieval team barging in here, do we?'
I shook my head, and she set off briskly on her way to the place beyond the cabins and gardens where the tricky, expensive, top secret thing with the time distortion field was done.
I watched myself walking away through the garden, and the bird i'd heard whistling to itself earlier darted suddenly out of the foliage, crashing into the window. I watched it stand up, stare at its reflection in the glass, and then dart at itself again. It was clearly in love with its own reflection.
A crack of electricity thundered beyond the gardens, and the bird flew away.