I got dressed as provocatively and with the sluttiest make-up that I could manage without looking like a transsexual, slipped on my heels and tottered my way to the interview. They had been so secretive, and I amused myself by twiddling with my cellphone and imagining things they would give me to do.
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I had often fantasized about my sister-in-law when I had been married to my first wife. The ex-wife was the youngest of 3 sisters from Finland and her middle sister was a knockout, just oozing sexuality. While Sara was cute as hell and sexually willing, there was an immaturity to her that her sister Ana didn't have at all.
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I grew up in a mid-size city, a middle class family and mostly sheltered from the big city life of Chicago just a few hours away. We didn't have rave parties and orgies, but we knew about them of course. I was the oldest by three years and always very protective of my baby sister. My family and I tried to keep the realities of inner city life away from her the best we could.
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I was driving back from the airport after seeing off my husband, who was off on tour for 10 days. As I drove through very light morning traffic, I was thinking of the unusual happenings of last few days.
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I am a housewife, happily (?) married for 18 years and mother of a 16 year old daughter. At 39, I still have a lot of sexual urge, though my husband, who is otherwise loving & caring, is not much bothered about it.
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I was bored in a lecture staring at the screen hoping Dr Allen would finish his droning on. I played with my flats dangling them of one foot then the other not really thinking about the lecture.
As I copied down a few words I returned to zoning out thinking of going into town to buy some stuff afterwards.
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"Damn it!" I yelled aloud, as the shifter linkage rattled uselessly, and the engine rpm's climbed to dangerous levels. Gritting my teeth and double-clutching, I slammed the shifter forward again, this time going into third gear. Yes! The Honda had jumped into the lead, however, and it was going to take every last bit of big-block horsepower to get it back.
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I gripped the seat with excitement as the driver turned off of Thomas and into the crowded parking lot of the Veterans Memorial Coliseum in downtown Phoenix Arizona. It was a warm August night in 1982, and the spotlights from the arena caught the flinty dust in the air, creating a sparkling light show above the gravel parking lot as the sleek white limousine headed up to the main entrance. I glanced at Andrea, who was sitting beside me grinning madly.
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I ran into Deb and Stan by chance on a business network site. I had worked with Deb at a company years ago. I left the company while she had stayed. We stayed in touch for a while and right after she met and married Stan we drifted apart.
Actually Stan reached out to me through the biz site asking me if I still did some work that he was in need of. We met and began a small business relationship. Eventually, the four of us went out to dinner.
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The weather was getting colder by the minute or at least that's the way it seemed every time they talked about it on the TV. It was snowing but not too hard YET. The forecast was calling for six or seven inches before midnight. The way it was going I would get to my cabin around seven so I should be all right.
I'm thirty-one and work in Manhattan as a lawyer and have a hunting type of log cabin as a retreat up in the Maine woods.
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Bobbie maneuvered carefully down the dirt road that was rapidly disappearing under the heavy snow fall. Old Ned Hoover had said he saw someone prowling around the bluffs at the back of her property. Sneaking back here at the beginning of what was forecast to be the worst snow storm of the year was not necessarily smart, but she was well prepared for weather and trouble.
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