For Amy Lynn Steele, it was hard not to reflect upon her current economic situation as she stood in the long line that filled every available representative of the Bureau of Unemployment Compensation. If she had not desperately needed the money, she would have vacated the building a long time ago, but the truth was, she needed the money, even if the weekly pay-out was far less than the amount she got as a Personal Assistant.
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It began at dinner. The humor and banter of table conversation was punctuated by her meaningful glances and significant smiles. She wove her emotional cocoon around his mind slowly and carefully, channeling the conversation in the direction she sought, teasing and seducing him with voice as well as words.
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I lay on the bed beside Sarah in the warm afterglow of amazing sex. Our passion when we are together burns as hot as a thousand suns, and I always loved those relaxing moments afterwards. I was prone on my belly as she gently stoked and rubbed my shoulders and back, her gentle administrations and soft, loving words caressing away my stress like gentle waves caressing a secluded beach. My lover knew what she was doing, and I often found myself wondering how I'd been lucky enough to find her.
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As the van cruised the streets it parked near the bus station. There was the perfect target. A young male around 18 or so with his back pack and ragged clothes stood alone outside smoking all alone. He was not from here, that's for sure. The two women inside the van pulled up to him.
"Killing time between busses I'll bet," the smiling short haired blonde in the passenger seat asked smiling.
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"I've been in quite a writing rut lately, with several of my best stories left unfinished for months now. Many people tell me the only way to get out of a writer's block is to keep writing. Hence, I wrote this story based off something peculiar I noticed at a party; a girl sniffing a pair of flats. At first, I amused myself with the idea the girl had a foot fetish, but soon realized they were hers when she immediately put them on.
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My wife had to work Thanksgiving Day for about six hours, which was rare for someone in retail. She went in casually dressed in a nice pair of khaki pants, a nice blouse and some comfortable flats. We planned ongoing g to my parent's house later after she got home. This is a casual affair and we bother planned on having a few drinks before we go. When she got home we had a few beers while watching some football, I looked over and saw that she had on her black trouser sock that I bought for her. They gave the illusion that she had some sheer tights on.
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Alexis Morgen stared at the woman in the bathroom mirror. Not bad for nearly 50, she thought. Not bad at all. Virtually no facial wrinkles and creamy skin made her look a good bit younger than she was. Her auburn hair was shoulder-length and turned up in a curl. Her startling green eyes looked slightly sad until she smiled. At this realization she pursed her lips into the thin smile an old flame had once described as her "Mona Lisa" smile. Alexis applied a little more lipstick, brushed her hair, and gave one more approving glance into the mirror.
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The restaurant is dimly lit, just enough light to be romantic and cozy. The waitress I flirted with last week gives me a broad smile as we sit at my regular table. Usually I dine alone, but not tonight. You look fantastic in that shimmering black dress. It shows just enough skin to be enticing, and hugs tight enough to shows all your sexy curves.
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The gathering at Alan's was supposed to be a pool party, but the clouds had been threatening all through the sultry August afternoon and few had taken a swim. By the time the barbecue was ready, it looked like it really would rain at any moment, so everyone crowded inside with their food. By the time I got mine there was hardly any place to sit, and I was grateful when Anne, who had already finished eating, waved me over to take her place on a low ottoman that had been pushed aside so it was near the end of the couch.
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I was on a flight from Vancouver to San Francisco feeling restless and I was anxious to get back home. I tried to get some writing done on the plane, but I couldn't concentrate. There was a father with his young son in the seat behind me constantly crying and kicking my seat. I tried to type, but my energy was gone, so I just stared at the blank screen in front of me.
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