Samira came up out of the underground in a cloud of steam and people. She paused out of the flow of people traffic and placed her briefcase between her feet. Her gloved fingers were clumsy as she pulled out her guidebook and directions and consulted them. They appeared to have been translated from an obscure dialect of French Medieval Mongolian.
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Ah yes, Abby! She brings back such fond memories. She was a cheerleader when I first saw her. A short skirt, a bulky sweater, pom-poms, and a beautiful, vivacious, athletic young woman... what else could a man ask for? I spent wonderful hours watching her bounce around, kick her legs up, and do cartwheels almost every afternoon after school. We were both breathing hard by the time she finished practice.
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I had to pee, but there was a problem. A few problems, actually. Not only was I going to have to fight the erection that was growing, and the fact that it had been in use for a few hours earlier in the evening, but I was going to have to get the girls off me. I was in heaven when we fell asleep; Deanna on my left with her long, slender body pressed against mine, Silvia laying on top of me where she had stayed after that last fuck with her on top, and Kathy snuggled up on my right.
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By the time the stripper arrived to the Bachelor party, we were all pretty drunk.
It was a small party, really. There were eight of us to begin with, but Steve had an early flight the next morning and so had left by ten. Then Sean, the groom-to-be of all people, got too drunk too soon and passed out on the sofa not long after that.
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"Here's our room, little brother." Cathy pushed the door to her dorm room open and waved him in with a flourish.
"I told you not to call me that here," Matt said. "Give me a little dignity as a prefrosh, please!" He grinned to lessen the sarcasm, hefted his bag, and strode into the room.
It was bigger than he assumed, what with the college horror stories of prison-style closets that passed for living quarters. Cathy's room, on the contrary, seemed downright spacious. There were twin double beds, a couch and lounge chair, a pair of desks pushed together, and even a bookshelf to spare.
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Sharon and Jackie have been best friends ever since they were little girls. They played dolls together, studied together, double-dated in high school and were roommates in college. Each was the maid of honor at the other's wedding and each provided a shoulder to cry on when the other got divorced. Now they are roommates again, sharing a two bedroom apartment in town. Besides the apartment, they share what clothing they can, and they share me when we get together to make love.
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"I'm not sure why I went through with it, Gyen. Five years later and she still hasn't grown up!" Dave complained to his closest colleague at the Advertising Agency. "Look at her, out cold on the couch again. She won't even admit that it happens every time she drinks, or even that she almost always gets drunk when she does drink!"
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You had left me in the early afternoon and instructed me to wear something nice for dinner. You wanted to have dinner at home tonight, and with a wink, said you would bring home dessert. Then with a loving kiss, you walked out. I stretched my body, relishing the ghost of your caress. I love you so. After a hot shower and nice powder, I dressed in my delicate white lace bra and panties, and over this, my green slip dress. It was warm, so I wore no stockings and slipped into strappy, low-heeled sandals.
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Mike had never thought of art galleries as a place to meet women. Hell, Mike thought about art galleries as little as possible.
The Vallejo/Frazetta exhibit at the Tucson Museum of Fine Arts was a rare exception to the rule. Mike enjoyed fantasy-oriented art, and Vallejo was his favorite artist. There would be paintings by other, lesser-known artists as well. Mike made plans to check out the exhibit.
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After being poked and prodded, giving up blood, sperm and DNA samples I was directed to a solid oak door. The smell of wax and old wood filled the air. I opened the door on a room cast in shadow, lit only by a guttering oil lamp on a table in one corner. A low step stool, a ceramic pitcher and basin were the only other furnishings. In front of me was the reason I was here and had gone through all of the prodding and poking. Three female rumps were at the far end of the small room. A thick black curtain bisected their torsos.
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