<strong>Kissinger, facilitating a fantasy</strong><br/><br/>“Absolutely.” Kissinger said.  Watching those three would be an adventure and a privilege.  He wanted to try out a new toy of his, the cutting edge of photography according to the inventor.  He would take their picture in the throes of passion and pleasure.  He would capture the moment of rapture and preserve it forever.  The thrill of something new sent his excitement soaring.  He rubbed the device inside his breast pocket, caressing it as if it were Golem’s precious ring.  If the device worked, it would prove very useful, not only for his pleasures, but for other things as well.  One never knows what kind of evidence may prove useful in any given situation.<br/><br/>“How does right now sound?”  He asked the ladies.  A rare impatient moment for Kissinger, he was shocked at the absence of his self control.  Although on the outside, it seemed as if he were cool, calculated and in control.<br/><br/>Kissinger got off of the piano bench and walked around to the back of the piano.  There was a large crank, he wound it and the piano began to play by itself.  The song was a ragtime tune reminiscent of the old western saloons.  Returning to the women he declared, “I’m ready whenever you are my dears.”