The honeymoon began on a very odd note.

23-year-old Dara Williams lay on her side with her dark figure snugly enclosed in barely-there lavender-colored lingerie, The skimpy tight bra and panties had black and white bars adorned with frilly white lace as well as pink knots and bows along the edges.

She awaited her new husband who was some years older than she was.

Instead, in walked this beautiful young man—impossibly beautiful, one might say—and he had perfect brown skin and perfect brown hair.

Naturally, Dara gasped and sat up quickly. She even clutched the blanket on the bed and tried to cover herself.

The man smiled as he held out his muscular arms, and out of his perfect mouth came the voice of her new husband.

"It's all right, Dara. It's me. It's Bill."

For a moment, Dara stared, those bright dark eyes filled with fear.

"Bill," she said uncertainly. "But how can this be? You're not the Hologram type."

The man continued to hold up his hands as he spoke in a reassuring voice.

"Think back, my dear. On all we've done, all we've shared."

So Dara thought back to the beginning.

Theirs was perhaps the strangest weirdest love story ever, though still sweet in a way.

It began when Bill saw a girl on MeTube. The girl in question was an Orangey's Girl, which meant she worked at the restaurant chain Orangey's. So-named because the girls at the restaurant, and there were only girls, wore bright orange halter tops along with white shorts. The shorts were much like those worn by the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, though with considerably less material. In some cases, the shorts were little bigger than white bikini panties.

In any case, this Girl would talked directly into the camera about her day at work.

"I would really appreciate any comments you make," she said. "I would love that."

So Bill wrote this:

"You are sweet, charming, lovely and delightful."

She replied.

"Thank you so much."

She made more videos. She would talk about nice customers who made her day. Even when she talked about rude unpleasant customers, she maintained good cheer.

Sometimes she showed brief film clips of herself at work in which, naturally, she appeared in her Orangey's uniform. But most of the time it was her in front of the camera in a simple modest sweater. The sweater could be pink, red, blue or black, and sometimes there was a little cleavage showing, though in a tasteful way. Whatever she wore, there was always her big cheerful friendly smile.

Bill wrote her again.

"You are very pleasant, personable, thoughtful and sensitive. All-around beautiful."

She wrote back again.

"Thank you again. I love hearing from you."

So Bill wrote more.

"You are a great person, and your great smile brings out the true beauty of beautiful you so it shines even more."

She replied.

"Wow! That's so sweet. Are you a poet?"

He said, "Just someone who thinks you would be great at whatever you do."

After a busy day, she wrote back.

"You are so kind. Thank you."

In a subsequent video, she told the story of how a customer was rude to her but she managed to win him over without a manager.

Bill wrote, "That doesn't surprise me. Who wouldn't be charmed by your winning smile as well as your pleasant voice and manner?"

She said, "You make my day, maybe my whole year. By the way, I'm Dara."

"Bill. It's my honor to meet you."

They continued writing back and forth online. At one point, Dara was down because her videos weren't getting much response.

Bill wrote this:

"Have you considered appearing in a bikini or a variety of bikinis? All you would be doing is letting your outer beauty match your inner beauty."

Dara responded with a skeptical emoji and a message.

"Normally I would be offended by such a suggestion, but when you put it that way….."

Later she wrote back, so excited and happy that it could be felt in an email.

"Thanks for your suggestion! There's been an increase in positive comments and subscriptions."

Bill said, "Glad to be of help. All the more gratifying to help someone so all-around wonderful and lovely."

Dara forwarded her phone number. When Bill first called, he said, "Hello. Is this the lovely and delightful Dara?"

"It is. Hello, Bill."

That began regular phone calls back and forth.

One day Dara asked, "Would you be willing to meet me at a diner?"

"Of course. I would love to be in the presence of such loveliness. But know I am much older than you."

"That's all right. We're pretty good friends now."

"I am honored to be your friend. Let's go on a fun non-date."

She gave him the address.

With his long white beard, Bill looked like an Old West prospector or Rip Van Winkle or one of the Oak Ridge Boys or a member of ZZ Top, sans sunglasses in the latter case.

At least that was Bill's evaluation of himself.

He expected Dara to immediately leave, and he would then think, "Okay. Once I knew this delightful lovely young woman for a while."

Instead, Dara sat down, smiled and clutched Bill's hand.

"Hello, dear friend," she said.

Bill smiled back.

"As your friend, do I get to compliment you?"

"Of course! Certainly! I won't mind."

"For how long?" he asked teasingly with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Until I get tired of it. Which would be approximately never. Does never work for you?"

Bill laughed. "Only you could say something like that and not sound completely rude. You really are very special, you know."

"Oh!" she said, flashing a smile so big her dark eyes nearly shut. "See there? Not tired of it yet."

"I'm glad. Because there's no greater joy in life than to compliment a young woman and see her all happy."

She smiled and clasped his hand once again. "You make me very happy with what you say."

From that followed joyous conversation with lots of compliments and smile.

At the end of the non-date, Dara slapped down some money and said, "This is on me. And if you don't call me, I'll call you."

When he got home, she did call, mainly to thank him for a lovely fun-filled evening and to wish him a good night and sweet dreams. As he went to bed, his heart was all a-flutter but as he dozed off he reminded himself this wasn't going anywhere.

But it did go somewhere.

This began a series of non-dates first twice a week then three times a week. Initially, they met on Friday night but this was after Dara finished her shift at the restaurant which didn't give them much time to talk. They decided instead to meet on Saturday where they could spend hours together if they wished. It all depended on when Dara had to work.

On one of their non-dates, they walked by the neighborhood Hologram Shop. Their walk took place at night. They were so comfortable with each other Bill walked with her at night.

"We can stay out at night," Dara said at one point. "We are adults, and it isn't a school night."

Dara said she didn't go to university. She wanted to be out in the world and learn by doing.

As part of that learning, Data stopped to gaze at the flickering Hologram ad in the window of the shop. Actual top-of-the-line Holograms didn't glow or flicker. Instead, you could tell a person cloaked in a Hologram by how impossibly beautiful he or she was.

Warm flesh tones cast their light on Dara's dark face as she spoke in her pleasant voice.

"They're something, aren't they?"

"They're the newest models," Bill noted. "They not only look like beautiful people but feel like them, too. Tiny nanobots deliver messages to your nerve endings."

"How romantic," Dara said without sounding rude, and Bill laughed. "I think I'd prefer something more subdued. Not like they wear at the diner."

At the diner, they'd seen the limos parked outside and the impossibly beautiful people holding hands at the best tables.

"Do they eat at the diner to save money because of all they've spent on Holograms?" Dara wondered aloud.

Bill shrugged. "Maybe they want to see how the poorer people live. Maybe for them it's like visiting the zoo."

"How gauche or rude or both," Dara said as she made a face.

As Bill made his own face in the glow of the window, a reflection showed his face partially in shadow.

"What do you do if you don't have the money?" he asked.

Dara raised her eyebrows as she shook her head. "Make videos and sell subscriptions?" she asked then she grinned, and Bill loved her grin. "Or maybe just accept people as they are."

"What a lovely sentiment. And what a privilege to behold your smile and hear your pleasant voice," Bill said warmly.

"Oh, stop," Dara said but clearly she didn't meant it.

Eventually, the topic came up of Bill and marriage.

"So, Bill, did you ever marry?" Dara asked as she stirred her hot chocolate with whipped cream.

"Never," he said bluntly. Bill was always direct. "It's hard to get married when people are always hating you for every little thing you do. They hate you for being different, and they hate you for being alone. "

The look on his face reflected bitterness. "Ironically, they hate you for not being married, which you can't do with people hating you so much. So they hate you even more. It's a situation filled with irony. Bad irony."

"That does sound difficult," Dara said quietly. She touched his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Bill."

"Thank you, my dear."

They walked in silence for a while.

Then Dara said, "Discriminating against someone because they're not married. Isn't that sort of thing against the law?"

"It is. But sometimes people favor other things."

"Other things. Like what?"

Bill shrugged. "Some people want the right to hate others without knowing them. And some people in authority help with that because they don't know what the law is or they don't care or both. Or they just want to look out for only certain people. Or all those things."

The lovely dark face of Dara was filled with sadness and concern.

Bill went on to explain how he was bullied throughout school while his family seemed not to care. They were certainly no help.

When he went out into the workplace, it was a difficult challenge. As Bill explained it, "I was expected to be twice as well-behaved with half the emotional resources." Naturally, such expectations resulted in outbursts at work and multiple firings.

When Dara took his hand and gazed at him tenderly, Bill simply nodded and went on.

Fortunately, Bill had a rapport with his brother Roger, the baby of the family. Baby brother Roger had a successful business, and he let Bill live with him. The business Roger ran was in a highly technical field so Bill would have to work elsewhere. Roger said that might be a good thing, that he would learn far more that way. Bill then spent many years struggling at various jobs but they all seemed to teach him something.

"Eventually I found job stability, and I unlocked the keys to emotional wellness."

"Oh!" Dara exclaimed, apparently trying to lighten the mood. "What would those be? I'll jot them down. They'll be like Gibbs' rules."

They were both fans of the TV series "NCIS" in which Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs expounded his wisdom in the form of "Gibbs' Rules," which were various rules and phrases to live by.

Dara thought Gibbs a bit of an ass.

Earlier, she had said, "I don't think anyone in real life would put up with Gibbs."

"Maybe not even Mark Harmon himself," Bill had said.

"Yes! Mark Harmon and Gibbs might have quite an argument."

They both laughed, then.

Now, Dara pulled out the little notebook she used to write down business ideas.

In response, Bill smiled. "Very well, my lovely and capable secretary. Here's one thing to do. If you're upset, page through a fun magazine."

"Fun magazine. Check."

"I cut out pictures from magazines and rearrange them."

"Oh! Collages. Also fun."

"I call it 'scrapbooking.'"

"A rose by any other name," she said with a casual shrug.

"Emotional wellness can be a series of simple little things you do. It's part attitude as well. Cut other people some slack and then cut yourself some slack as well. More later, my dear."

"Thank you, Gibbs." Dara put her little notebook away.

"By the time I achieved some financial stability and I was doing all right emotionally it was too late to find a young woman. And I couldn't see myself with an old woman. That would just be too odd."

Dara grinned a little. "I think I understand."

"I am grateful for our warm and wonderful relationship."

He took her hand, and she let him.

One night Dara suggested they go to his place; Bill had never suggested such a thing or even hinted at it.

Dara found herself at the gates of a mansion where a security droid asked for voice identity. Bill responded with the phrase, "Bill and guest." As the gates opened, Bill responded to Dara's look of astonishment.

"This is my brother's place. You will be quite safe here. The security droids will respond to any crime they see."

After that, they began having regular conversations in the diner and in the vast living room of the mansion.

"You may have a room here," Bill said. "To film your videos. You can bring over any clothes or outfits you wish to wear."

He helped her move them.

They continued their non-dates. Sometimes they would even walk around holding hands with Dara smiling while playfully swinging their hands.

One day they were visiting the calendar section of a book store, and Bill picked up a calendar from GirlsPlay. GirlsPlay was the magazine which featured men in swimsuits.

The cover featured a rather stunning man with brown hair and brown eyes who looked like a life-sized action figure. Clad in small green swim trunks, he had the good musculature of a GirlsPlay model. He was sculpted and defined without being outrageously bulky like an overachieving bodybuilder. While being very beautiful, he certainly had no bulging veins.

While the brown man looked out from the cover with a hopeful, eager and friendly smile, Bill wore a more casual look as he examined that man on the cover.

Dara blinked in her usual adorable way. "What is this, Bill? Are you sexually fluid?"

"Not actually," he said in a casual almost bored way. "Just thinking I'd like to look like that if ever I got a Hologram."

"Where does someone get the money for that, I wonder." Dara also sounded casual as she pulled out another calendar. "Look at this calendar. Gray. All washed-out. The man's face in shadow. And he's not smiling at all. Like he's not having any fun. Like he'd rather be somewhere else."

"He does look quite grim," Bill agreed after a mere glance. "Not sure why a woman would be happy looking at someone so grim." Briefly, he grinned. "Nice upper body, though." At Dara's inquisitive look, Bill responded in a casual voice. "Recognizing a man is handsome doesn't necessarily mean you're gay. Though it doesn't help."

Dara laughed. "You're quoting an episode of 'Seinfeld.' The one where Elaine likes the cute guy in the gym."

Bill laughed as well. "We both know that episode. We really are on the same wavelength."

"Whatever wavelength that is," Dara said then continued to examine the grim gray man. "Some of my girlfriends would like this calendar. They'd say, 'What do I care if I can see his face when he's got a body like that? He doesn't have to smile as long as he shuts up and does what he's told.'"

Bill chuckled lightly. "I suppose a calendar man could fill those needs."

Dara smiled as she pulled out another calendar. "I prefer the Fantasy Guys calendar. The men are happy and smiling, and they look very nice. Not just nice-looking but like they're nice people."

"Sounds like there's a definite market out there for that."

"And I don't mind if the man has nice things to say." As her eyes widened in a look of mock interest, Dara held the calendar to her right ear. "What's that, dear? I'm the most fascinating interesting woman you've ever met?" She held the calendar to her heart. "I think you're quite interesting and fabulous, too, dear."

As usual when he was around Dara, Bill smiled. "As far as getting you a nice-looking man who says nice things, let's see what we can do."

Dara put her arm in his. "You're doing very nicely. Don't be too concerned."

As they walked along arm in arm, Bill had this to say.

"That brings up the topic of attraction."

"Shall I get out my little notebook?"

"Do whatever you want, and it makes me happy."

"Oh," she cooed and placed her head on his shoulder.

"I saw this commercial for a dating service."

"Looking to replace me?"

"No one could replace you, Dara dear."

"Oh!"

"There was this lovely blonde."

"As lovely as me?" Dara batted her eyes with an expression of mock hurt.

"No one is lovely the way you are, Dara dear."

"You're a diplomat, you are." Dara at times talked like Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Dolittle in "My Fair Lady."

"A diplomat of truth and sincerity," Bill insisted, and he held up a finger to show he was serious.

"Yes! Sincerity. Once you fake that you've got it made." With a mock-serious look, Dara held up an instructive index finger.

"Anyway, back to the blonde in the commercial."

"Not as lovely as me." Up went the instructive finger again.

"She said she wanted someone very kind, very sweet and very funny."

"You are very kind, very sweet and very funny."

"Thank you, my dear. But assuming we were the same age, do you think she would go for me?"

"She couldn't do better," Dara said as Eliza and gave an emphatic nod.

"Ah!" Now Bill held up an instructive finger. "She wants someone who is all those thing but also attractive on the outside. She just assumes she will get someone attractive outwardly because she is attractive outwardly."

"Without a Hologram."

"Yes! And because she is naturally attractive outwardly, she can focus on the inner qualities and so appear to be virtuous."

"Well," Dara said with mock uncertainty. "I can't testify to the virtue of this blond woman of yours."

"She's not my blond woman."

"Are you sure? You seem quite taken with her."

"I'm sure. You are very smart and very funny."

"Thank you, sir." Dara offered a brief curtsy.

"If you ask the average person, and you are not average-"

"Thank you. Again."

"-if you ask the average person-"

"Which I'm not."

"You could ask someone what do they value most in a romantic partner: looks or personality?"

"Most will say 'personality.'"

"Yes, my dear. And they don't say it just to be socially acceptable. They actually really mean it."

"Fancy that. Sincerity. Shocking!"

"They say it sincerely because they are attractive on the outside and they know they will automatically get someone who is attractive on the outside."

For once Dara had no snappy comeback but only because she appeared deep in thought.

"The outwardly unattractive will say they want someone beautiful. Inside and out."

Dara nodded. "Because for them it's not a given."

"No, it's not. The outwardly unattractive-"

"Let's call them 'outies' for short."

"Yes! Very good, Dara my dear. You are so clever."

Dara made a face. "Although they do sound a little bit like belly button people, don't they?"

"A little."

She gave his sleeve a pat once again. "In any case, you should feel good. You're not so bad."

"Ah, just what every man wants to hear. I appreciate your ringing endorsement."

"Let's leave that behind then, shall we?"

Bill turned very serious as he spoke quietly.

"The 'outies' want someone beautiful because, as you say, it's not a given."

Dara curled her thin pink lower lip. Though it was a sign of sadness, Bill, as always, found it adorable.

"It seems sad, cruel and unfortunate," she said.

"I am fortunate in that I am content with whatever or whatever I can get. I don't care if I do that much with someone for real. I'm okay with fantasizing."

"We all fantasize a little, don't we?" Dara said with a grin. "That explains the market for those calendars and my videos."

"And wanting someone beautiful explains the market for Holograms. The blonde in the commercials wouldn't understand that."

"Oh! There's your blonde again. I hope the two of you will be very happy together."

Smiling, Bill squeezed her hand.

"Who could ever be as uniquely special as you are?"

"Oh! 'Uniquely special,' am I? Very well then, I suppose I can forgive you your dalliance with your blond tart." Dara waved a hand as her dark eyes looked up at the night sky.

Later Dara did a video in which she shaved off Bill's beard and neatened him up a bit.

"Now you're more than all right," she insisted.

Bill looked very happy.

On one of their non-dates they talked about this.

"If a married couple make love as Holograms, is it adultery?"

Dara shrugged. "I don't see how it would be. It's still them. It's no different than if you make yourself look nicer in some other way."

And that was that.

One night at the mansion, Dara looked at Bill with that sweet grin and eyes full of affection.

"Bill, you've been so kind to me and so helpful. I would like to do something for you." Her smile flickered a little but her dark eyes were warm and bright. "I would like to have sex with you."

The now beardless Bill laughed but not in an unkind way. "I appreciate the kind offer. But I could never make love to someone as wonderful as you only once or even just temporarily."

As Dara laughed, her eyes widened as her face lit up.

"Only you could turn me down and still make me feel good."

As she offered a smile that was big and bright, Dara found that Bill placed a hand on her black fuzzy sweater. As he smiled with squint-eyes, he gave her a very warm and serious look.

"To paraphrase Frank Sinatra, I would want to make love to wonderful you over and over again my whole life through."

As she sometimes did, Dara let out a little happy-laugh, almost like a gasp. She looked up at him with those sweet sparkling dark eyes as her sweet grin flickered and twitched.

"Well, I thought I'd offer. After all, you've never offered to make a 'sugar daddy' arrangement with me or to pimp me out to your friends." She spread out her arms and slapped them to her perfect thighs, for the moment hidden under fake designer jeans. "You've been a perfect gentleman, Bill. You still are."

For a moment, Bill smiled then he turned a little serious.

"Since you have made this kind offer to me, maybe there are things we can do that will please us both." With those lovely dark eyes, she gave him an expectant inquiring look. "Would you model one of your bikinis for me?"

"Certainly! Of course! Your fantasies aren't on the dark side at all, are they?" she said with a little laugh. "Any particular one you want to see?"

"The black one with the little white flowers on it."

"I can do that," she said with a nod.

"But first let me take your sandals off." He took her by the hand. "Have a seat on the couch, my dear."

Once she was seated, Bill knelt and gently removed the sandals. Dara sat with her shoulders hunched, and her smile suggested she was pleased and touched. She even wiggled her toes a little.

"You have such nice feet, such nice toes."

"Oh! So now you're on about that, are you?"

"Nice nail polish."

"Thanks! I picked out the color myself. Nice of you to notice." Dara giggled a little. "I don't think any boyfriend has ever told me that. So preoccupied with himself."

Dara became silent as Bill gently kissed each toe. As he did, she looked unusually moved.

Bill then slowly rose and held out his hand.

"You may leave your blouse and your jeans in your room. I look forward to seeing you again, very much."

After joyful moments of anticipation by Bill, and some nervous heavy breathing, Dara emerged with taut dark abs, a jeweled belly button ring, slim arms swinging, toned legs moving, and as usual, that great smile. Warm, friendly, sincere and welcoming.

To add to the wonderfulness of it, Dara, ever the showman, put a hand on her right hip and angled that hip this way then that. All the while pouring out that great smile.

It was like she was a pageant contestant, and the pageant was just for Bill.

As she stood still while smiling, Bill spoke quietly.

"Just let me gaze at you and admire you for a while, my dear."

"Go ahead," she said with a smile and a nod. Her arms flew out briefly, nearly hitting Bill. "Oh! Sorry. Despite that, I am here to be of service, obviously."

For long moments, Bill gazed at her. At one point, he ran his right index finger up her toned right arm then the left. Dara did not twitch at all, and her sweet grin did not falter at all.

'

Bill moved behind her, and Dara, still smiling, glanced back at him.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't pinch you. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you."

"I know," she said quietly with that sweet grin. "Just like I didn't meant to almost hit you."

"I know," he said with a light little laugh.

Instead of a pinch, Bill ran his finger along the bottom of her rear end.

"They're very firm. You must work out."

"Thanks for noticing," she said. "It does help at Orangey's."

Slowly and carefully, Bill moved in front of her.

"I didn't want to stay back there too long. I missed your face, your eyes, your smile, all ot your outer beauty. All of beautiful you."

She looked almost tearful.

"I missed you, too." Again, she giggled. "This is some foreplay. Too bad we won't be getting to the main event."

Dara fell silent as Bill caressed her dark left cheek. He then went behind her again as he placed an arm around her waist, being careful of the belly button ring, of course, and he kissed her graceful dark neck.

"I'm feeling very good right now," she said in a breathy voice. Her pleased smile, with her lips all shiny, suggested she was indeed feeling good.

Once again, Bill circled around.

"Oh!" she practically squealed. "You're back again. Hello!"

He kissed both cheeks then softly kissed her lips.

"Perhaps one day we will do the 'main event,'" he said with a shy smile. "But for now…." He produced a bottle of a clear substance. "Would you join me at the couch again?"

She did.

"Let me rub baby oil on you," Bill said. Smiling up at him, Dara leaned back into the couch. As he rubbed the oil around her belly button ring, she gazed up at him and smiled. The more he applied the oil, the more she seemed to relax and settle back and be at ease.

"Sure you're not trying to seduce me?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"No need."

"Right!" With her sweet grin. Dara held out both arms to receive more oil.

"What's going on here?" someone demanded in a sharp voice.

Dara dropped her arms and jerked her head, not necessarily in that order.

The man standing on the edge of the living room looked like one of those men from the gray calendar and just as grim-faced.

With an angry annoyed look, Dara sat up. "Who's this?"

"My older richer brother," Bill sighed.

The man stepped out of the shadows but still looked gray and grim.

"Are you two married?"

"Yes, Roger. While you were out all day, I got married."

Dara had never heard Bill sound so deeply sarcastic.

Roger's grim look deepened.

Uck, Dara thought.

"If you're not married, you shouldn't be doing that sort of thing."

Now Dara stood up, looking angry but still looking magnificent in her bikini. "A little oil? Are you serious? Are you daft?"

"Things need to be done right." As Roger moved closer, he waved a finger. "Plus you're getting oil on my couch."

Dara looked incensed. She even clenched tiny fists.

"You're a Hologram Person!" she cried.

Roger's perfect flawless face formed a frown. "What would you know of such things?"

"Bill is for real. I respect that. He doesn't hide, like some men. Like you!"

As Dara pointed an accusing finger, Roger just stared. Glared really.

Holding up his hands, Bill nodded. "Dara, maybe you should get dressed and we'll go."

Dara shot Roger a look then she marched out in her bikini. Roger only casually glanced after her.

Once Dara had a trenchcoat on over her blouse and jeans, Bill walked her home.

"Dara," he said. "Maybe you should consider marrying me."

Dara gave him a wide-eyed look.

"You could live in the mansion."

"With him?" she screeched. That lower lip curled up in a way that made her face hideous, especially when it was partly in shadow.

Bill chuckled. "He's just someone who wants things done right."

"So he walks around in a Hologram suit?" The screech reached a new level.

Bill stopped and took her hand.

"As long as we're doing things properly, Roger will let us live in peace. And while we do just that, no other man will be as kind to you in the same way as I am."

"That is quite true," she said quietly. "I shall consider your kind offer." She stood on tiptoe and gave him a soft kiss on the left cheek. "Good night, Bill."

Bill forever cherished the memory of that kiss.

A week later in the Diner, Dara sat down and looked quite happy, almost like she was glowing.

"I have decided to accept your kind offer," she said with more good cheer than usual. "I will marry you."

Bill seemed unconcerned that this was not the most exciting response to his proposal. But then it had not been the most exciting proposal to begin with.

"Splendid!" Bill exclaimed. "I'll make the arrangements immediately. Once we have the tests and get the license, we can be married by a justice of the peace. We can have a ceremony with family and friends later."

Dara curled up her lower lip in a skeptical look, much like the famous gymnast McKayla Maroney, only more adorable and beautiful.

"Will your brother be there?"

Bill laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Yes, I feel like I can trust you. You haven't taken advantage of me when you could have. As I've said before, you haven't pimped me out to anyone yet."

Only Dara would say things like that.

"I think we'll have a very good marriage," Bill said, very businesslike. "We talk easily with each other. And if the lovemaking proves unsatisfactory, there are things we can do to remedy that."

Dara laughed. "Only you would say something like that."

She did the curled lip again. "When I thought of getting married, this isn't exactly what I pictured."

"It usually isn't," Bill said quietly. "Maybe it's better."

There was that Dara grin. "In some ways it's very good."

"I'm glad you think so," he said warmly as he took her hand.

In the month that followed, their conversations took on a more exciting tone. Except for a couple of times.

"So what's with your brother?" she asked again.

"Like I said, he thinks things should be done properly. If a young woman offers him sex, he says, 'Not until we're married.'"

Dara blinked those dark eyes. "I can see you being like that because you're a proper gentleman. He seems like an egotist. 'Oh, look at me, I'm attracting the girls like flies and swatting them away.'"

"Perhaps so but once we do things properly he won't bother us."

On another non-date at the Diner, Bill seemed agitated.

"What is it?" Dara asked.

"My family doesn't want me to marry you. They say, 'You can't marry an Orangey's Girl twenty years younger than you.' I said, 'I can, I shall, and I will.' People are always telling me what I can't do, and I do them anyway."

"We'll show them," Dara said firmly as she clasped his hand.

"Yes. We will," he said with a smile. "Glad it's not just me."

Those dark eyes seemed to dance and twinkle as those perfect lips moved.

"And I trust once we're married that you won't pimp me out to your friends."

"To my friends? Never. Maybe to people I don't know. But they would have to have very strong references."

"Good to hear." As she grinned, she gave his hand a pat.

"We'll find other ways to make money."

"There are always ways to make money."

As she rested her chin on her little hand, Dara smiled that glorious smile.

"I'm very excited to marry you."

"Yes, I believe you are. I'm glad I'm not alone."

Finally, the day of the ceremony arrived. Once it was finished, they went to the mansion where Dara prepared herself in Bill's bedroom.

"I have a surprise for you," Bill said, and he exited.

Moments later, Dara found herself confronted by the beautiful brown man with Bill's voice. Once Dara got over her initial shock, Bill calmly explained.

"Everything I told you was true. I just left out the part where I built a business empire. I was able to do so because Roger let me live with him."

"But you didn't become like him," Dara said. "Not in all ways."

"No, I did not," he said quietly. "And I made my fortune through the Fantasy Guys calendar."

"Oh!" Dara exclaimed, and as she laughed, she covered her mouth.

"Yes," he said, blushing a little. "I took pictures of men in swimsuits. Low-cost start-up, high return. Unfortunately, when I was just starting out, people at work thought I must be gay."

"Silly people at work," Dara said, waving a dismissive hand.

"But," Bill said, holding up a finger, "I have never pimped out a woman in my life. I have, in some sense, pimped out some men."

"So I see," Dara said, still lying on her side in the lingerie.

"Being rich, I could have walked around like this for years. But I wasn't really looking for a woman anyway. Then, while being true and honest, or mostly honest, I met warm wonderful you."

"Because, again, you're not like your brother."

Now that she was over the shock, Dara sighed dreamily as she gazed at him. She looked him up and down, more than once.

The brown Adonis-like man gestured to his perfectly carved and sculpted body with the flawless brown skin.

"When you embrace me, you will feel a hard muscular body, thanks to the nanobots."

"Oh! Nanobots. So romantic."

The man grinned. "You will feel the physical sensations and pleasure of sex in whatever way you wish at whatever intensity you like." He held out what looked like a remote control.

Dara sat up, clutching her hand to her heart.

"All this science talk is getting me worked up, even more than an issue of 'GirlsPlay.'"

From inside the beautiful man, Bill let out a little laugh.

"We can even avoid pregnancy, unless you want a child by natural means."

"It may be too late for that." Dara produced her own device. "I have a surprise for you, too."

Suddenly, Dara, the slim dark-skinned young woman, was gone. In her place was a pale wrinkled elderly woman with her white hair in a bun.

"I didn't think I'd find a man who would turn down the advances of a pretty young thing. But here you are. And even on our wedding night there are no surprises. At least not nasty ones."

The nice eyebrows of Bill's Hologram went up.

"So you are actually rich, too!"

The old woman nodded.

"Like you, by the time I became rich I was too old for a young man. But I did have a bit of fun. Some men tried to take advantage of me as the young woman struggling financially. When that happened, I would revert to my natural form and use the nanobots to stun them and knock them out."

After Bill roared with laughter, Dara went on. "I can show you the videos if you like."

"We'll have all our lives to see those," Bill said quietly with a gentle grin. "Let's do it first thing tomorrow morning!"

"Oh, darling, you are delightful," Dara said then gestured to her aged body. "That's why I kept up the disguise until the last moment. Because I was sure you would be surprised in a good way." She then winked. "I was very clever, don't you think? I was lovely in Hologram form but not impossibly beautiful."

"But still very lovely," Bill said gently then he laughed lightly. "I should have known you weren't really a young woman. She would have stopped all those compliments a long time ago. She also would have run screaming at the sight of me."

"I was wise enough not to. I was so wise in so many ways, don't you think?"

"I do indeed, and I'm so glad. No wonder we related so well."

The old woman adjusted her sitting position on the edge of the bed then asked this.

"How do you want to do this? As our natural selves or as Hologram People?"

Bill grinned as he thought for a moment then he patted the edge of the bed.

"For now, be the young women I have known all these months. It just means the outer you will be as beautiful as the inner you."

With any other man, Dara might have thought him shallow. But she knew and understood what Bill was like, his background. It was her background, too. And besides, who could argue with such a sweet sentiment?

Bill, ever the wise business negotiator, sealed the deal.

"Be my dream come true, and I, in return, shall be yours."

Dara took her hologram form, and Bill stopped to gaze at her and admire her, and she him.

"There's one other thing," Dara said. "I can be the blond woman in the commercial if you like."

Bill simply smiled. "No, Dara. You. Only you."

So began a night, and a life, of bliss.