I lay next to you, cradling your head against my breast, lightly stroking your sleeping face. Your arm pulls me closer to you as you snuggle next to me. Looking down, I softly kiss your forehead, my lips making your stir slightly in your sleep. Many nights I watch you sleep and think to myself, all this started out with a kiss....
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All I could see were mirrors, yet the voice resounded in the room. I could hear a woman speaking to me. She'd tell me to walk in one direction, yet I wouldn't be able to get past myself, my own image. Offering words of encouragement, she tolerated my inability to overcome my own obstacles.
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I fell in love watching you shower, you know. I've done it so often I know your routine off by heart. I know how shy you are and how you shriek when you catch me watching. I always hated the see-through shower doors until the first time I saw you through them, now I wouldn't trade them for anything.
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Authors Note: These stories are based on my life experiences. If you haven't read the first part of my story, I'd suggest that you do so... The names (or most of them) have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. By the way, in case any of you are wondering after the end of this story, the answer is: "Yes, Cheryl is still a part of my life – even if we aren't roommates anymore."
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How could he? That bastard of a boyfriend of mine?
Yes, despite living together we both had our freedom. He'd never been unfaithful to me before. Not that I knew of. Neither had I with him. Not with another man, anyway. A woman was different, of course.
My boyfriend had no idea I was bisexual. That was, and is, a side I keep to myself. I love men. Love cock. But I love women, too.
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I had just turned 35 – and not at all unhappy about that. I didn't have a lover, and that was fine too – I've never been desperate that way; I can be happy all by myself. So when my gay and lesbian health clinic was having one of its almost chronic fund raisers, and I was asked to volunteer for the date auction, I smiled brightly said sure, I'd be glad to.
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Living with Paige was pure hell for Ally. Every moment she was around was like slow, agonizing torture which Ally often likened to having dull screws driven deep into her skull while having her heart ripped violently and awkwardly from her chest by hateful vultures. Well, maybe not that bad, but it definitely sucked in the worst possible way.
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Ironing! God, I HATE ironing, but the height of the pile of clothes awaiting my attentions had grown to such a level, that I needed to do something about it.
So there I stood; unhappily, surrounded by slowly growing piles of neatly laundered pants, t-shirts, dress-shirts and sweaters.
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Beth sat on the couch, watching Lisa as she moved around the kitchen. It had been what? Ten years she thought. A long time, but Lisa still looked great. She swirled her wine, enjoying the aroma as the drink cascaded around the edge of the glass.
"You know you're not supposed to spin wine hard like that right?" Lisa asked laughing, startling Beth.
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She was heaven and each delicate curve an endless hymn of angel's breath. And I was her disciplined follower, the worshipper of every inch of her perfection. Her body was a dream, a vision to be discovered and adored.. I'd close my eyes and still see her lying there next to me. And when she would leave me, I'd wonder if any of it had even really happened.....
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