Friday. Part 1.
She walked across the rear deck of the ferry, the wind was blowing into her face but warm and refreshing after the long day at work. Now she could relax and unwind as she headed across the sound towards home. The sea and the weekend stretched out before her and she knew she had no plans for the weekend and was looking forward to it, and as she pondered on the non plans she had she smiled to herself.
Ashley's mother got married again for the sixth time and she now had a stranger named Blake in her house. Her mother was 44 years old and throughout her life, she constantly changed the men that she had like changing the clothes on her back. There were numerous men in her mother's life and Ashley herself had no idea who her father was. She met her stepfather one morning when she woke up and found the man in the kitchen drinking coffee.
Janna was very tired and distracted that day and really wasn't paying attention to where she was driving. Suddenly Janna realized that she had no idea where she was. "How could you not know where you are stupid?" she said to herself. "You've lived here your whole life."
Janna didn't stop to think that she really only knew the rich side of town since that is where she and her friends had lived since she was born.
As a newly appointed detective assigned to a special police operation Georgina was less effective than the effect she had on men, which was electric. It wasn't just a pair of long legs or the tiny waist emphasizing large breasts, it was more than that, it was the innocent look upon her face when listening to them. She had a way of tilting her head to one side looking intently into a mans eyes as though he were the only man in the world and what he had to say was important. Sitting in his car with her Sergeant, Angelo was getting the full treatment.
Stephen was a struggling businessman who owned a small company in the South. He was doing well enough to support he and his lovely wife, Kathy, but he was still looking for that one break that would grant them true financial independence and the opportunity to retire sooner. That opportunity came in the form of a stranger from the North. That stranger was Michael DiCarlo.
She'd been hiking and it was a hot day. She was fairly deep in the bush but she had a satellite phone, so she was still in contact with the outer world if required.
She had actually run into some signs of civilisation over the past half hour, spotting a few fences and there had even been a couple of signs posted. Coming down the track off a particularly steep hill Suzanne was quite pleased to see the river. She could cool off there.
Something very traumatic happened to me recently - something that could have killed me. Since then, I have been reliving all of the major events in my life. Fortunately, I have plenty of college friends and family to discuss things with. However, there is one event I must keep secret and anonymous.
During my senior year in high school, I was a determined, albeit slow, member of my school's track & field team.
One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.
I'm Sam. Or at least I was.
I woke up to the sound of an alarm. I'm not sure why I didn't notice at first that something was up, but the only light was a crack in the window curtains and that was on the usual side of my bed. The alarm was a different tone, but my mind was groggy from having just woken up so it didn't register. I sat up, and flicked on the light switch for the lamp to my left. I had to stretch slightly further than usual.
As Jack and I sat in our make shift studio we could still not quite believe that the crazy idea we had discussed over one or two too many beers was actually about to happen.
Perhaps I should explain.
A month or so previously we had been in a bar most of the evening enjoying a few beers. Like most of the older men in the bar we had been admiring some of the young girls sitting with their boyfriends.