“Still no, thank you,” I say in a firmer tone. “It’s not the shape you take. Or you. I just need an emotional bond before I can enjoy intimacy. And no offense, but I barely know you.”
“A raincheck then?” she says, her face turning back to her usual self. Her body, however, retains Ariel’s distinct perfection, along with the slave-girl bikini. “After we get to know each other better, perhaps?”
“Perhaps,” I say as noncommittally as I can. “I would certainly be more receptive to such an idea in the far, far future if you don’t pull a stunt like this again.”
“Say no more,” she says, turning her body back to its kimono-clad self. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a speech in your honor.”
She winks and stalks through the fog in the direction of the DJ’s podium.
Soon after she’s go
