Months of frustration were taking their toll on me and this always altered my normal personality. I only hoped Carl would enjoy it as much as I knew I was going to. Since I was off work that day I took the entire day to pamper myself and relax. I thought about Carl and the upcoming evening off and on through most of it.
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In another story in the Courtney series, I take a look backwards to the early days. This particular tale may very well be the reason I eventually married her.
I was living in a studio apartment with just enough room for myself and my dog Max, which was a mix of all things big and slobbery. What Max lacked in looks he made up for in charm, but not towards strangers.
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Mandy's weekend had not been good at all; from the early start to the heavy traffic to the slowest bellman in the entire country to the flaky actresses, the Georgia peach was anything but sweet by the time she arrived home. A more apt description would be an ornery lioness, ready to claw the next person who had the audacity to simply look at her wrong.
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It was one of those late April days that act like a dress rehearsal for summer. The unusually high temperatures drove throngs of people to the southern California beach. Whole families looked like modern nomads, lugging coolers, easy up tents, and all implements required for beach fun, setting up camp along the miles of hot sand, Julian called home.
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Dating when you're in your late thirties is a lot different from dating in your twenties. The expectations are different and there is a freedom to it that wasn't present twenty years ago. No, we haven't gone through menopause so pregnancy is still a worry as are sexually transmitted diseases. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the expectations surrounding sex. At twenty a girl has to worry about appearing too easy. If she sleeps with a guy on the first date, will there be a second? Probably not.
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To be honest, I can’t really pinpoint where my fetish for hairy women began. As a kid, I can remember looking at old photos of Victorian woman in lingerie, and thinking they looked slightly strange with the thick patches of hair in their armpits, and when I did see the occasional woman with hairy pits in real life, I thought it unusual rather than exciting.
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Catherine Botha and Amanda Shott. How odd and strange this world is, how peculiar it is sometimes, how mixed up and crazy it gets.
I’m still struggling with myself, battling with my urges, hovering between loyalty to Derek and loyalty to myself. After Andrea the RAU student, Elaine the lesbian from hell, Clyde and Margi from Adam123 and Dennis the restaurant quickie wizard I decided to lay low for a while, take my foot off the accelerator to gather my wits about me.
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This actually happened to me tonight on my commute from work. Well, everything up to the characters getting off the bus, anyway. The rest is a fantasy. I wrote it all in a burst after getting home, so it might be a little rough, but maybe it has the immediacy of what was going through my mind. Your comments or private message are always welcome.
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Joanne was in a state of total arousal. Of course, she would never let Betty know this. But she'd come to look forward to Betty's regular reports on her torrid fuck sessions with Bill with enormous anticipation.
As Betty recounted the events of her last tryst with Bill, Joanne's mind wandered. Images of him swam in her head. Those images were clipped from afternoons he'd spent at her pool with Sarah, her daughter. Evenings he'd stayed for dinner. And then there were the memories of Sarah's moans and cries as Bill fucked her senseless in her bedroom. The bedroom next to Joanne's.
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It was a Friday evening. I was a writer, coming home after a meeting with my publisher, and I was looking forward to slumping in front of the TV with a whiskey and putting something in the microwave before getting an early night. The train drew into the station and I got out and headed for the exit. As I left the station, I vaguely noticed a woman standing against the wall, and as I approached she turned towards me.
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