From her mouth-filling gag of hard, black rubber a kind of pinwheel springs. Spinning in the breeze it measures wind speed and transmits data along a...wire that has been run down the poor girl's throat and out her bottom, down the pole and into a wall-mounted panel. In the comfort of his den Ben watches needles jump and spin on the panel as the tempest rages, while sipping a warm cup of coffee. Below in the garden, partially sheltered by the wings of the house, lithe Holly gathers data on. " Where it's a lot dryer." I could hear the water gushing off the eaves.Her glance was moving down the front of me, wavered a moment before she brought it up again. "Now that I got you out of your wet clothes, I don't know what to offer you to wear." It doesn't matter."Quickly she stepped forward, grasping me tenderly and holding me for a second, her glance was on my face. "You're too beautiful to wear clothes." So we'll be nudists."Her face brightened. "That would be fun. Could we have a. More

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