Continuous pulses rippled through the oozing folds of my hungry quim. The Sybian2400’s pleasure waves, on my favourite intermittent setting, had already wracked my body and wrecked my g-spot.

Greedily going for more; the dildo hunted and corralled another round of delicious cums. My morning ritual, an hour-long cum-fest, now made extraordinary by the newly released, ‘dildo for the twenty-fifth millennium.’

Lying back having temporarily satiated that needy quim, I ‘heard’ a silent word image in my mind, “Ave, Annie.”

“Jeez, can’t a person get any privacy.”

They laughed, adding, “Privacy! So delightfully old-fashioned. Open access, networked minds build a better future.”

“Ave, Bruce; the pleasure is mine,” I replied, politer for having realised that I was in telepathic congress with one of the Elders, the Council that had guided us this past century since we consigned nationhood to the dustbin of history.

“Kins-person,” Bruce replied, formally recognising the blood of the Great Southern Land that flowed through both our veins.

“Kins-person.”

“Of late, Annie, the Council of Elders has been measuring orgasmic intensity.”

Unfortunately, the thought suppression chip in my brain wasn’t on a high enough setting, so Bruce perceived the word ‘perverts!’ as it ran through my consciousness.

“Scientific research Annie! Though not without its pleasures. Tell me, what would you say if I said sixty-nine to you?”

“Other than I didn’t know you were an aficionado of twentieth-century grubby innuendo, you mean?”

If a thought pattern could smirk, Bruce’s did. “Perhaps it is as well you are a student of that period, Annie. However, sixty-ninth is where you placed on the leader board of orgasmic intensity.”

“By a kins-person?”

“No Annie, the entire world. Well, that isn’t quite accurate. Can I ask your indulgence to use a gendered word?”

“Ave, Bruce, I recognise your wisdom.”

“Well in days gone by I would have said the sixty-ninth most intense orgasm by a woman.”

“What! You’re only measuring orgasms of part of the population. Surely that’s illegal?”

“Well yes, but the Council of Elders has given itself a dispensation. Special circumstances pertain to what we are measuring.”

“Oh,” I said, actually none the wiser.

And none the wiser was a state Bruce seemed determined to keep me in. All I really gleaned was that I was expected at the teleporter the next morning and all would be revealed then.

Having materialized from my quantum entanglement, God knows where, I checked the mirror. Other than mascara molecules which couldn’t be bothered to recombine as attractively as they certainly were before I teleported, I looked and felt just like I did before beaming off.

The directions to my room appeared in my mind. There I was stunned to find a window, only the third time in my twenty-three years hovering above the planet that I had actually seen outside.

The sun glowed in vivid shades of magenta through the orange-tinged sky. A squall of acid rain on the horizon sparkled with a gorgeous rainbow. The pretty deep blue-green colour of the steaming lake my room overlooked reflected the algal bloom. There is beauty outside nowadays, I thought to myself, though defenestration was out of the question. I couldn’t survive out there without sophisticated protective equipment.

Not that going outside was on my bucket list. The ‘Better to Cum than Run’ movement that gained ground politically in the twenty-second century, had promoted sex with a religious zeal, convincingly arguing that being outside was an unnecessary extravagance that took time away from fucking. And despite the historian in me knowing what Marx, Karl not Groucho, had said about religion being the opium of the people, I, like everyone else, had no qualms about staying in and embracing the joy of sex.

But I couldn’t tarry admiring the view, due as I was in a conference room within ten minutes. Arriving there, I found myself in a milieu of nakedness, for clothes were rarely necessary given the now perfect air-conditioning.

Amazingly, the Council of Elders were present, seated at the front of what I knew, my research having focused on the hundred years after World War Two, used to be called, before everything went digital, a lecture hall. And close to one-hundred persons who would have been called, at that time, women were searching for their assigned seats.

I found the seat numbered sixty-nine, between a stunningly pretty blond sitting on the seat numbered one, and a nerdy dark-haired hottie on the seat numbered seven. I was in the company of cummers.

Settling down, I heard, yes actually heard, Bruce say, “There are five yet to arrive.”

“I refuse to cast my pearls before insufficient swine,” the Great Leader replied; that witticism not distracting Bruce from his laser-like stare in my direction.

I, however, was distracted by the blond embodiment of lust on my left. “Ave, Annie.”

Though her thought suppression setting was on high, I was still able to perceive basic details. “Ave, Maria,” I replied, unable to keep a note of informality from creeping into my thoughts.

Maria stared at me blankly, but I heard an audible giggle from my other side. I turned to the dark-haired hottie who looked adorable in what used to be called John Lennon glasses, above which genetically engineered eyebrows fluttered. It had been over two-hundred years since glasses had been needed for vision, so that was their look and a gorgeous one it was.

As their thought suppression setting for me was quite low, I respectfully turned mine down, and immediately perceived that we had had the same thought about blonds.

“Ave, Annie.”

“Ave, Eve.”

“Kins-person.”

“Kins-person. Just us two here from the Great Southern Land.”

“Oh, I am flattered, not everyone thinks I look smoking hot in these glasses.”

“And not everyone likes my nipple tattoos as much as you.”

Eve and my getting to know each other was interrupted by the late comers’ arrival. I bristled when I saw the scarves they wore, fucking in-Groupies. The innie sorority thought themselves exclusive given the shape of their vagina. Now, of course, it’s a person’s right to choose, but, for God’s sake, genital prejudices! Like Marx, Groucho not Karl, I wasn’t joining that club, even though they would actually have had me as a member.

As I perceived Eve’s mind searching databases for Groucho Marx, I watched in amazement as the newbies flipped the bird to a member of the Council of Elders, namely Pamela, the only innie on the Council and the one who signed the order that banned cosmetic labiaplasties.

Wanting to be supportive, I called out, “Ave, Pamela.”

And was rewarded with an encouraging smile from Bruce offset by a death stare from the in-Groupies. I broke that stare when I felt the featherlight touch of Eve’s fingernail on my inner thigh. “Thanks for taking a stand,” she whispered.

Facing Eve, the frisson of excitement from the minx’s fingers as they inexorably slid towards my now damp quim, had me sucking my bottom lip. Sometimes you just know you are heading for fuck-buddy heaven, but the moment I had that thought was the moment I was alerted that Eve and I might be off to somewhere else.

For a programme in my brain had pinged, the first time I had had that notification. And given her surprise, a first for Eve too.

If someone from twenty-twenty turned up in the modern world, the thing that would surprise them most is that love is not a matter of the heart but the head. The most sophisticated computer programme ever written, compulsory nowadays for everyone to have in their brain, could within a minute tell you whether you were in love or just imagining it.

Of course, you could fuck anyone you liked, but the Council of Elders had decreed that you had to score at least nine out of ten to be in a relationship and above nine and a half to have children. No one had been prepared to take the risk of falling in love in a century, science could tell us all we needed to know about the realm of Eros.

And that programme had pinned for me and Eve. Knowing the significance, we stared into each other’s eyes, turned off our thought suppression, and let the programme link everything that had crossed our minds since birth. A minute passed, then another as the programme chose to run a second time, before we got the results.

Ten! Eve and I were as deeply in love as any couple had ever been.

Our love-in was interrupted by Bruce’s word image. “What did you score?”

“Fuck,” he said, having realized Eve and I were only the fifteenth perfect score in the last century.

“Not now, Bruce; Eve and I best wait till after the Great Leader’s speech.”

Eve laughed. Bruce, a tad rudely I thought, said, “I admire you, Eve, putting up with Annie jokes.”

With everyone settled and Eve and I holding hands, the Great Leader approached the podium.

“No one to date has found the secret of time travel, although, ironically, most have got close to touching it,” they began. “Today I am pleased to tell you we have unravelled physics’ greatest complexity. And you, the Hundred, you are a key part of what will be humankind’s greatest adventure.”

“Ladies,” they continued to an audible intake of shocked breath at the use of a gender-specific term, “Time travel is powered through the sexual energy produced from g-spots and g-spots alone. When harvested by the newly invented time-transformer dildo, we, or more accurately you, can bend the fabric of space and time. I’m not sure anyone really wants to spend long on a detailed explanation of how the dildo actually bends time.”

The audible sigh of disappointment from the love of my life suggested the Great Leader had that one terribly wrong.

They then stunned me by saying, “Ave, Annie; Bruce has told me just how impressive you are and today I saw that for myself.”

I blushed a little and Eve squeezed my hand affectionately.

“For you see, Annie,” the Great Leader continued, “You, I and even the in-Groupies owe a huge debt of gratitude to Pamela. For she undertook the first time-jump despite not knowing whether her sexual energy was strong enough to power a return.

“But return from the future she did and was able to tell the Council of Elders what was in store for us. After a prolonged period of physiological counselling, the Elders determined that that future state was best avoided and hence we come to you, the hundred most intense female cummers in the world.

“What we have planned, is a series of exploratory time jumps, one by each of you. The powerful sexual energy from your g-spot will allow you to bend the fabric of space and time and test how sensitive the future is to changes in the past.”

When the Great leader finished, Eve scurried down to the front keen to discuss the mechanics of time travel. Knowing I wouldn’t have her attention for a while, I joined the queue to book my time jump spot.

“I saved one for you, Annie,” Bruce said, “Dallas, late November 1963.”

Eve rushed into what had been my room but was now our room, full of the time-dilation effect of special relativity and the way sexual energy had mass that didn’t grow to unbounded levels thereby allowing one to masturbate into the mouth of a wormhole.

Frankly, much of that went over my head, but I smirked when she said wormhole. “There’s another hole I would like to worm into, Eve.”

“Only one babe? Physics doesn’t turn me on as much as you,” Eve said with the sexiest giggle, spreading her legs, her quim glistening.

In the old days, first times must have been filled with uncertainty. But here I was about to fuck Eve for the first time, literally knowing everything there was to know about her. So, when Eve added, seductively, “Want to taste me, Annie?” our mind-meld had even told me she preferred a tongue to circle her clit anticlockwise.

“You’re so naughty,” I said

“You know I am and I know you love it.”

With a smirk, I crawled, cat-like, onto the bed, inhaling the aroma of her arousal. Dipping my head, eyes locked on hers, I rasped my tongue across her rosebud and through the wet folds of her quim before flicking her clit and smearing it in her honey. A steady diet of virtual sex is great but nothing beats the taste of a real quim, I thought, as her juices exploded on my taste buds.

As my tongue circled her clit clockwise, Eve giggled adorably and said, “You fucking tease, do it properly.”

So, my tongue changed direction and circled anticlockwise. Eve held my head in her hands and moaned as she ground her quim on my face. Two fingers pressed into her wet opening, my knuckles stretching her velvet walls. Finger fucking her and suckling her clit quickly brought her to the edge. Her hips arched and she pressed her quim against my lips as she exploded in orgasm.

“Well done, you two,” ‘said’ Bruce’s silent word image, “That takes Eve up to second on the orgasm intensity list.”

“No privacy here, babe,” I proudly said, as I lowered my quim onto Eve’s pretty face. Her tongue probed my folds before she sucked them into her mouth. Grinding, my quim oozed onto her face. Then I screamed in ecstasy as she sucked my clit into her mouth.

I was on the edge of something big, and when her finger ran across my rosebud, big arrived. I gushed honey as a supercharged orgasm flooded my senses.

“Even better,” ‘said’ Bruce, “That puts Annie into the top ten.”

After snuggling for a while, Eve and I kissed for ages before I rolled on top of her and pressed my quim against hers. Tongues swirling, nipples rubbing, I slowly rotated my quim into her folds. Sliding, then slapping, juices mixing, our eyes locked as we ground and let our orgasms build in tandem.

Making love, totally connected, we teetered for the longest time and then exploded as we were consumed by massive orgasms.

“Well, Bruce?” I ‘asked.’ But, for once, there was no reply.

The next morning, having dressed me in a yellow rose Texas Shirtwaist Dress, with knickers holding the time-dildo into my damp quim, Bruce set the destination time.

The dildo operated like dildos have for millennia until powered up by my second orgasm. Like all dematerialization processes, when Bruce threw the time jump switch, from his perspective, I disappeared.

Jumps in three dimensions are pretty well instantaneous. Not so in four, and my sexual energy bent the space time continuum as I continually masturbated my way through time. Eventually, I found myself on a grassy knoll in Dallas in the swinging sixties.

I had participated in an earlier discussion where it had been agreed that President Kennedy was likely to enable Civil Rights in the way President Johnson had. But I wasn’t going to try to prevent the assassination this jump, rather this was a preliminary scouting mission.

My aim was to find out who the mysterious second gunman on the grassy knoll actually was. And not, as Bruce sternly told me, “To see if I could fuck Jacqueline Kennedy.”

“As if I would try,” I replied, attempting to look a little hurt.

“Your thought suppression setting should be higher if you want me to believe that, Annie.”

To cut a long story short, there was no mysterious person on that knoll. However, by the time I established that and returned from my time-jump, the tension in the jump room was palpable. Whatever had happened with the thirty jumps so far had not gone according to plan.

And I got a hint of why from Bruce. “Look at this original photo of the grassy knoll.”

“That’s me in a yellow dress.”

“Yes, and it’s the same before and after you jumped. Every other jump has been the same.”

“So, our present includes the time jumps?”

“Seems so. Maybe we can’t change the future by changing the past. We have just sent five jumpers to consult the greatest physicists of all time. Eve is currently with Albert Einstein.”

I waited. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the returning jumpers until Eve returned, white as a sheet. Falling into my arms, she said, “Call a Council of Elders meeting, Annie.”

“Ave, Council of Elders,” Eve said, her hand tightly gripping mine.

“Ave, Eve,” the Great Leader said, their tone reassuring.

“Albert Einstein was getting a blow job from a woman called Aroha in the Swiss Patent Office. He said she was his ‘research assistant.’”

“Pamela, who is Aroha?” the Great Leader asked.

“No record of her. She briefly appeared in Einstein’s life, right when Eve time-jumped back,” Pamela replied.

“Um,” I interrupted, “Aroha is an ancient word, meaning love, from the country we used to call New Zealand.”

“Here’s the thing,” Eve continued, “Aroha looked up and said, ‘Hello Eve, care to join.’”

“She knew your name!”

“Yes. I hope you are okay with this Annie, but I joined in.”

I nodded supportively, love means trust and I trusted Eve to know what she was doing.

“But nothing has changed, Eve,” Bruce said, “That threesome hasn’t changed our present.”

“With respect, Bruce, that isn’t the point. The point is what Aroha said as we made Albert’s cock ejaculate.”

“What, Eve?” Bruce asked as the Great Council leant forward in their seats.

“The energy of cum is stronger when two cunnies masturbate a cock.”

“Cunny?” the Great Leader asked.

“An old-fashioned word for quim,” I replied.

“Does that mean what I think it means,” Pamela asked.

“Yes,” Eve replied, “One of the greatest formulae in physics, energy equals mass times the constant squared has a second meaning. Energy equals masturbation times cunny squared.”

“That’s a message to us,” the Great Leader said, “We have always known that was the other option. Bruce, you talk Annie and Eve through what has to be done. Tomorrow will be a crucial day in human history.”

Just after another shattering orgasm on my love’s pretty face, there was a knock on the door of our room. Bruce could certainly time an arrival.

He had brought wine, ‘Australian’ of course, a Riesling and a Shiraz. Two hundred years had passed since grapes grew on planet earth, but, thankfully, modern chemistry could reproduce the molecular structure of history’s finest vintages.

So, although global warming had made the Clare Valley a desert wasteland, the citrus nose and dry honeyed taste of late twentieth century Riesling kept alive the memory of that great wine region.

“Scientists believe time is like space,” Bruce said, as we savoured the wine, “There’s a point where you become ‘weightless.’”

“Ending up where?” I asked, then noticed Eve’s eyes roll, “Oh fuck, you don’t mean?”

“Yes, my love, you can’t stop and will end up at the beginning of time.”

“Exactly,” Bruce continued, “We’ve proved that time jump changes are incorporated into our present and future. Our last roll of the dice is to see what happens if we jump through the point of no return. Not even Maria can cum hard enough to do it on her own. But a couple, linked by a double-headed time shaping dildo.”

“What happens to that happy couple?” I asked, my stomach sinking with a dawning realization of who the Council of Elders might have in mind.

“Either time is a closed-loop and they return to the present,” said Eve, “Or they’re subsumed into the beginning of time, becoming the change that affects everyone else’s future.”

“You mean die?” I asked.

“We don’t know, Annie,” Bruce said, after draining his glass, “But changing the beginning is our last chance for a better future.”

“Why Eve and I?”

“Your first trib was the highest orgasmic intensity ever recorded. Even Maria’s recent fucking hasn’t gone close.”

“It’s love isn’t it, Bruce,” Eve observed.

“Presumably.”

“Greater love hath no person than this, that a person lay down their life for their friends," I whispered.

“Fuck,” said Eve.

In the morose silence that followed us glimpsing our destiny, we did what kins-people from the Great Southern Land have, in desperate times, done for many generations. We opened the shiraz.

“We must, my love,” I said, having tasted the summery-plum flavours that kept the memory of the Coonawarra alive today.

“You always do the right thing, Annie. I won’t let you down and let this cup pass from me.”

That sleepless night, Eve and I snuggled together, whispering sweet nothings. The what, why and how of good morrow was for the future; the present was about savouring the joy of our love. Ours for a night, as, come dawn, our love was for the future of others.

Hand in hand, Eve and I headed to the jump room. The corridor was packed with our fellow jumpers. Except for the fucking in-Groupies, too busy contemplating their innies, I guess, to deign to support a real idea for a better future. Fist bumps, titty bumps, hugs and even tears; the valediction was a blessing.

Bruce slid the double-headed time dildo into Eve and my quims. When harnessed together, I stared into Eve’s eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you, Annie.”

Kegels engaged, we rubbed our quims against the dildo and our first orgasms powered it up. Bruce whispered, just for Eve and I, "With courage let us all combine," and threw the time jump switch. 

Our next orgasms easily bent the space-time continuum and, together, Eve and I floated fucking through time.

Sweaty thrusts of oozing quims had us cumming and accelerating, leaving history behind as we fucked past the formation of the Earth. And then with desperate synchronized grinding of our tiring quims, we focused on simultaneously generating the most intense orgasms of our lives.

That boost in sexual energy powered the dildo through the resistance of the formation of our sun and we broke free.

Drifting through time, we embraced the uniquely peaceful feeling of dimensional weightlessness. But as we went back past the formation of older suns, space became denser and we felt our momentum change polarity.

Time travel feed the dildo and not vice versa. The energy of existence was being sucked into the dildo and radiated onto our quims. Eve and I were driven to orgasms of increasing intensity as we hurtled closer to the beginning of time; the constant rolling cumming waves a revelation of the true nature of ecstasy.

Enveloped into the light of the first thousand stars that emerged from the Big Bang, density compressed illumination. Energy focused inwards, pinpointing a trinity. My throbbing g-spot. Eve’s spasming g-spot. And the dildo connecting them.

At the beginning, all the energy that ever will be flowed out of Eve and my g-spots. That pulse, those first-ever orgasms, that was unimaginable ecstasy. It was the pulse of energy that still drives the universe’s expansion.

And us?

Well, Eve and I found ourselves lying down in green pastures, beside still waters, our exhausted bodies shuddering with the aftershocks of giving birth to the universe. Though we had been through the shadow of death, I feared no evil, for Eve was with me, the still pulsing double-headed dildo a comfort to me.

The grass swayed in the zephyr, ticking my skin. Birds tweeted, butterflies fluttered, a cloud lazily drifted across the blue sky. I shivered when a Blue Monarch landed on my engorged super sensitive nipple. Eve’s face filled with joy on seeing the pretty butterfly, but then she looked as shocked as me when a sheep asked, “You okay?”

Sheep could speak, who knew? The loquacious ewe continued, “The Lorde is my Shepherd. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life. And you can dwell in the house of the Lorde forever.”

Alerted that we weren’t alone, Eve and I freed ourselves from the time-shaping dildo and looked around. And wandering through the grasses singing about perfect places was someone holding a crook, presumably Lorde, and presenting as a slip of a girl.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Te Waipounamu,” Lorde answered enigmatically, then added, “Kia ora, Eve; this must be Annie.”

“Hello, Aroha. God’s own country?” Eve stunned me by asking.

“Good to see Aussie chicks recognising that veritable truth,” Lorde said, waving their crook towards a path leading down to the valley floor. “Let me restoreth your soul and leadeth you to the path of righteousness. Remember it’s paved with the good intentions of those that have gone before you.”

So, Eve and I, hand in hand, set out down the path followed by two gambolling rainbow-coloured unicorns that emerged from the trees. When we got to the valley floor the unicorns cantered in front, leading us to a waterfall splashing into a crystal-clear blue pool.

Next to the water was a single ancient tree, leaves summer green, with one rosy red apple hanging from the lowest limb. And around the tree trunk, a large serpent was lazily curled.

“Welcome, Annie. Welcome, Eve,” the snake said, the voice as melodious as the finest orchestra, “Welcome, my last visitors called this the Garden of Eden.”

I knew enough religious history to realize who the serpent meant. “Adam and Eve!”

“Kind of ironic isn’t it,” the snake observed, “Another Eve. First time a name has repeated.”

“How many have come before us?” Eve asked.

“The universe has rebooted forty-one times. Lorde is such a perfectionist and you humans so unreliable.”

“I take it this is the tree of knowledge,” I said, “And biting that apple casts humanity into eternal damnation?”

“Not the way I see it,” the serpent replied. “It would put you back on an earth less fucked up than your current one. You two can engineer an improvement.”

“The sheep said we could stay here,” Eve said.

“You could. Interesting for sheep, less so for intelligent women,” the snake replied.

“Or we could go back home,” I countered.

“I think not,” the serpent replied, their forked tongue curling the double-headed time-shaping dildo out of my hand and sucking it down their throat.

Out of the sky, Lorde, standing on a small cloud, floated down, accompanied by Cherubim and Seraphim.

“Care to comment on the physics involved in that, Eve,” I said.

As Eve rolled her eyes, Lorde giggled, the sweetest sound I would ever hear.

“You and I have an issue, Eve,” the serpent observed. “The Lorde and Annie have similar senses of humour.”

Lorde smiled indulgently at me as she touched my belly with the crook, saying, “In the beginning was the Humour, and the Humour was with the Lorde, and the Humour is now Annie’s.”

Winking at Eve, she then touched her belly with the crook, saying, “You two have been blessed with the most perfect love humanity can imagine. Go forth and multiply.”

“There you go,” the serpent said, “a sperm sac behind you g-spot, you are all set for reproduction. Mind you, beware of self-fertilization. One time when we had two women, the thirteenth world, was a little unlucky. They made self-fertilization a cult and the zombie apocalypse resulted.”

“Would it help if we had a turkey baster?” I asked. Lorde touched a fallen twig with her crook and it turned into a turkey baster.

“Of all the things you could have asked the Lorde for, Annie, you wanted a fucking turkey baster,” Eve said.

“Ever practical darling,” I replied.

This was turning out to be a long day, but we knew what we had to do. With eyes locked lovingly, Eve and I bit into the crisp red apple. As we sucked on the exquisite sweetness of the fruit from the tree of knowledge, paradise oozed away, dripping into the grass and then dirt like raindrops running down a windowpane.

Dissolving paradise left us standing in the sun in a rift valley, somewhere in what we would have called Africa. Well that was what it was called in our past which was now our future and so it hadn’t been named, if you know what I mean.

Not alone, for the two unicorns were with us, their rainbow colours fading, their horns disappearing, as they transmogrified into piebald horses. But far from home, for, in the distance, a lioness roared causing wildebeest to stampede near us.

Odd what life throws at you. Here we were, Annie and Eve, just two super-orgasmic down under chicks from two million years in the future, now with horses and a turkey baster of course, seemingly charged with starting humanity all over again.

Apparently, for the forty-second time, Arthur Dent would have been pleased with that symbolism.

“Shall we make a start on procreating the species, babe?” I asked.

“What we going to eat, Annie?”

“Each other’s quims, of course.”

Eve did that thing with her genetically enhanced eyebrows which perfectly encapsulated millions of years of exasperated stares from life partners.

“Oh, I see your point. You mean food,” I said.

Fortunately, I caught a break. In the two hundred years of Pornhub lesbian video files embedded in that storage chip in my brain was the collected fuckfest of one Betty Crocker, the legendary twenty-first-century Lesslut. And misfiled amongst the tribbing was an older webpage on cooking.

“It says we need to add heat, Eve.”

“What, do it ourselves?”

“Afraid so.”

“Then we will need fire. You do cold food for tonight; I better get on with shelter and we’ll invent fire in the morning,” Eve said decisively. Lorde, I love that girl.

So, I set out on horseback in the dappled afternoon sunlight to find berries for dinner. Knowing that today had revealed truth to us; with love, laughter and lashings of sex, we so could build a better world.