Chapter 1
Alone, I sat, waiting for her arrival. Six o'clock she had said, but it was already ten past that. "Maybe she's just running late," I told myself. "Maybe she's having trouble finding the place. What is she doesn't come? Oh, Christ! What if she does!" I drained the vodka in my left hand, considering a third.
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As a writer here, I am quite different.
I write for women! I write in the 1st and 2nd person present text. I write for those women that are sexually bored, sadly underappreciated in their roles as girlfriend, wife and mother, or frightfully inhibited, but hiding a secret insatiable fantasy side...I write for those women that yearn to be in the grasp of strong, successful, attractive dominant men...men that are mysterious, successful, powerful, erotic.
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I'm unsure how it transpired. Someone knows someone else, who has a friend who is aware of another. All I knew was that I had received a telephone call. A business like voice saying my presence was required by a Ms. Rebecca Noah, an address and time given. When I asked to what did this pertain I was simply told it was a personal matter and that I would be expected. The line going dead.
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Metallic grey skies had hung over London for days before finally bursting into hours of torrential rain. Tom felt his spirits dampen beyond retrieval. He had been walking in Regent's Park, the grim weather keeping it almost empty; now he needed some resolution to his mood. It was either Mozart on the South Bank or the whores out East.
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“Do you trust me?” His deep, soft voice whispered in my ear. He was behind me, his hands gently caressing my shoulders and upper arms. Something in his voice made me hesitate. Did I trust him? I was looking at our bed. At the things he had laid on it. There were padded restraints fastened to the corners, a dark scarf on the pillows, and odd shapes under another dark scarf.
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CHAPTER 1
Jim Walker was heading south in his camper van on a quiet secondary highway in the Central Plateau of New Zealand, passing through thousand of acres of pine forests rearing up green-like sentries on both sides the route, when he spotted two female hitchhikers up ahead, with small packs on their back.
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The pizza deliveryman had noticed the girl who ordered the Italian subs before. Her bright eyes and long raven locks were hard to miss and when he stood by her desk while she paid, it seemed that she always leaned forward a little too far. She always had a smile for him too and on more than one occasion he could have sworn that their fingers lingered when she paid him.
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It was a sunny afternoon. she had been lying in the sun, drinking in the warmth. He loved to watch her as He worked with His roses. Every once in a while He looked over at His pet, so proud of her, lying there in only a thong, her body glistening in the sun. Occasionally, she would take the spray bottle and sprits herself, sending a cool shiver over her body, making her luscious nipples firm up.
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She'd been planning this day for weeks. He didn't celebrate holidays much, just marked the time passing. But she meant to change that. Holidays should be special, she mused happily. Valentine's Day especially! It's the perfect day to celebrate being alive and in love, a day to enjoy! He'd had to work that morning, but the evening she intended to be devoted only to him.
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Cara was just sliding the tight-fitting gold spandex skirt down her hips when the doorbell rang. She gasped and looked at the clock. It was already 8:00! In a rush to answer the door, she grabbed the gold headpiece and armbands to her costume and slapped them on as she hurried down the stairs.
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