I am a 34 year old divorced woman. I have recently moved from the small town where I spent my whole life to a larger city, to re-start my life.
My ex-husband had little or no interest in sex. Sometimes it would be months between feeble attempts. There was never anything interesting or creative. No oral, or anal, which I was craving.
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When I was seven I wrote a story about a space ship landing in our back yard. The aliens were friendly and, at some point, they ate purple ice cream. As mothers do, mine told me it was brilliant. A year later, I thought it was dumb. A year after that, I wished I could write like that again. The next year, I burned it. My mom spanked me for playing with matches. The next day I wrote a story about a mean old mother and her reign of terror. As mothers do, she said it was cruel. The next day, I burned it.
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They had been married for several years and their sex life had been wonderful, although less frequent since the children had arrived. Candace loved to fuck, there was no question about that, she enjoyed every kind of sex her husband and she had shared, but it had become insufficient because of the infrequency.
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I was halfway home when I saw her standing on the street with her thumb out. The closer I got, the slower I drove. She was tall, about five feet seven, with medium length black hair falling loosely about her shoulders. Her eyes were deep black. She was wearing a short skirt, a cutoff white t-shirt, and barefoot. Barefoot and pregnant, I thought.
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This is What Happened:
A gal I met from an online chat a couple months ago invited me to come to her house for a little party. I had told her after we met in person, that I wasn't interested in developing anything with her, but I would like to be buds with her if she was ok with that, and she said that would be cool. We had chatted online on many occasions about a variety of different things, and I had revealed some of my kinkier desires, and she has always encouraged me to just “go for it”.
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'Damn him,' I thought, angrily stomping out as the door slammed shut behind me. Even on holiday he could find something to moan about, maybe its time I started looking for a new Master! Let me explain, by nature I am a very submissive person, perhaps you might even call me a pacifist, under his tutelage I had become his slave, his slut and his whore.
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Mandy had grown up in a small Midwestern city and was a shy girl. She had some close friends but had put aside the idea of dating in her early teens. Something about the complications of dating didn't appeal to her. It seemed like a lot of work for a few moments of pleasure. Besides, she told herself, too many of the guys she knew were pure unadulterated jerks. Those that weren't, she reasoned, would never go out with her.
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It's peaceful up here in my school library. I like the big windows. I like the big tree outside the windows, here on the second floor, where I kinda feel like I'm in the tree. I'm trying to decide what kind of tree it is, and I think it may be a sycamore. That's the kind with the smooth patchy bark, right? I think so.
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"Silas's Choice."
"Say what?" Rocky Hansan asked.
"Silas's Choice," I repeated. "You are offering me the same options you offered Silas Collins three years ago. Did you realize that?"
"Of course not," the chief of the Near East Division said. "Farthest thing from our minds."
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It felt so very good to be really clean, squeaky clean as her Mom used to say when she was a little girl. Louise could have stayed in the hot biting shower for hours and let the wonderful water stream over her body. It had been more than a week since she had last showered and had the opportunity to wash her short brown hair. It was a wonderful public service that the church shelter offered to the homeless. She wished that she came in to take advantage of it every day as it made her feel so much better about herself.
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