Most of my stories seem to be about love, romance, and hot sex. I guess that's because, there's just not much call for stories about hate, violence, and loathing. You'd think, I would get bored with it all after a while, but the fertile soil of my dirty old mans brain, keeps coming up with new ideas. Here's the latest one, let's see where it goes.
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"What a nice place you have," you say to me, as you step into my home. You smile teasingly, "I didn't think a man could ever be this neat."
"Thank you," I say with a sardonic grin, "I find it's easier to be neat. Do you mind leaving your shoes here? May I take your jacket and would you like something to drink?"
"Fresh! I've just walked in and already you're taking my clothes off," you say, looking down coyly, then you smile to let me know you're joking. "I am thirsty, a glass of water would be nice." You step out of your pumps, then slip off the short sleeved bolero vest, and hand it to me.
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Chapter One
Cassie and I had a date that Friday night and I had been looking forward to it all week. It had been several days since we had had much time together, which meant that we'd had no sex either. Since Cassie has an-eighteen-year-old daughter, sex is out of the question unless Amber is asleep or we have it at my apartment. And since the walls are thin, sometimes sex is still out of the question even if Cassie's daughter is asleep. We were going out for dinner; a movie and some time alone back at my place later.
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I'm a Major in the U.S. Army stationed at Ft. Benning, GA. I enjoy working down here because I'm also something of a history buff and I love going to the old Civil War battle sites in Atlanta, Chattanooga and other places. I've even been to a few Civil War re-enactor battles and talked to the re-enactors themselves to learn what's involved. I've thought about buying the old uniforms and weapons and becoming a player myself but just haven't gotten around to it. Maybe in my retirement. Anyway, this has been a good tour of duty for me.
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The old fisherman sat out at the end of the dilapidated dock in his lopsided deck chair. Though it was getting on toward evening the sun was nice and warm. He was fishing really light; a homemade bamboo pole and an old reel he maybe got before he had whiskers. Duck-taped it to the pole and wound it with ten pound test. Fishing flounder didn't take much gear. He had a card of hooks, a tin with some weights and floats and some leader. Minnows in an old milk bottle and a plastic paint bucket for his catch. He had caught some.
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“You know what we need?” Cynthia said slurring her speech slightly.
“What’s that?” Sally said looking to her best friend.
Cynthia leaned into her friend and lowered her voice, “Some young stud with a fat cock that can go all night on the two of us.” She said grinning.
“Yeah, right.” Sally said looking away and dismissing her friend.
“I’m serious,” Cynthia said louder leaning back away from Sally, “look at us we’re still hot we could still get some young, hung boy to go for us.”
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It was early spring in DC. While my love life was hardly what I would call "on the skids", it had been lackluster as of late. One would naturally assume that the night club scene would be a meat market. To a great extent, it is. Night after night I went to various spots. My friends had gotten into the habit of telling me during this period that I was too picky or that I just needed a good romp to get out of my funk. I would laugh it off.
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Fred couldn't remember how he got into the city the next morning. In fact when he realised he was in the city he couldn't remember waking up, getting dressed, having breakfast and getting into the car. He even glanced down guiltily to make sure he was dressed.
He had gone to the city, he decided, because it was about the time he usually went there. He tried to remember what he usually bought in the hypermarket and in this way he slowly managed to work his way around to the checkout.
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"Seriously, Val, you need to get a hobby or something. It can't be good for you spending so much time alone."
Valerie looked sideways at her friend and smiled.
"I don't mind spending time by myself, you know that."
"I know you say you don't mind, but I still think it can't be good for you."
Like a spy resisting interrogation, Lucinda would stubbornly repeat her point over and over until the opposing party cracked and subjected themselves to her will. Valerie had known her long enough to realise this and accepted that it was just part of Lucinda's individual charm.
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I stepped away from the painting and arched my back to relieve the ache. The large canvas required me to stand, but the years and a legacy of arthritis from my father made it difficult. I always managed to become swept up in the brush strokes and the blending of subtle hues, and it wasn’t until I stopped that I knew I‘d been on my feet too long. The coffee was cold, and I poured it back into the pot to re-heat.
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