A brunette bikini-clad woman.

You start by looking straight ahead. You quickly lose control of your sight, however, and your eyes travel up-and-down her body.

You are not surprised that she looks fantastic. Perhaps your only complaints would be that a slight bit of her breasts are peeking out above each of the cups of the clothing that you brought, and her curves seem to hint that the lower portion is not precisely on her hips.

Finally, however, you regain the ability to speak.

“I don’t think that I could make up for what I left behind,” you admit.

Irina chuckles briefly, assuring you that you won’t be suffering any ill effects.

“I understand,” she says. “But you agreed to make sure that everything was in the right place.”

She leans forward, bringing your faces closer.

“The only question,” she whispers “is if that’s your place or mine.”