It was my fault, I'm sure. I was preoccupied and I was piloting the shopping cart very poorly so it's no surprise I bumped into somebody. I clipped her cart with a bit of a jolt which brought me out of my distraction in a hurry.
"Sorry! Sorry, that was my fault." She gave me a smile, a sweet, forgiving thing that was a tiny ray of sunshine in my personally overcast day.
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The Tuesday started like hundreds of others at the art centre where I worked as a model. I breezed in through the main door, walked down the corridor and into the office.
"Good morning all," I greeted the office staff.
"G'morning they returned."
I turned and was about to leave when the Secretary called out, "Oh, Sophie. Just a minute."
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During my final year of high school my English teacher, Miss Jacobs, became pregnant. This alone is not so remarkable. The problem, however, was that Miss Jacobs was a miss and not a missus. Once the members of the school board found out about Miss Jacobs' pregnancy she was given the option of pregnancy leave (firing her was only an implied threat), after which she was shunted off to another school. Those who banished her probably thought it magnanimous of them to not sew a red A to her blouse before sending her off.
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Margaret Rose Austin -- Meg to her friends -- grinned as she stood in her kitchen and listened to the hullabaloo from across the lounge. It was her son Todd's 18th birthday, and he and his buds were noisily discussing their plans for the evening, in terms that suggested they'd forgotten there was a respectable middle-aged lady just across the hallway. Not that she minded so much; she'd known most of the boys almost since the day they were born. Heck, she reflected as she washed up the greasy plates from the chili dogs and brownies she'd made for them, she'd grown up with most of their parents.
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You're never going to believe this. Honestly. I can hardly believe it myself, it's why I absolutely HAVE to tell someone. I'm not normally like this. It's just so unbelievable. But so fucking fantastic. It's kind of like finding out you've won the sexual lottery. I'm rambling, I know, but when something like this happens to you, you'll understand why.
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The freight elevator seemed to be taking forever. Not that Alex was really in that much of a hurry. After all, he wasn't going anywhere for Thanksgiving. Home was too far away and he just couldn't to go home for Christmas and Thanksgiving. No, after work, all Alex had to look forward to was an empty dorm. His roommates and most of his friends that lived in the dorm had already left for their respective homes earlier in the day. But he didn't mind. Alex was actually looking forward to having the room all to himself. He liked his roommate quite a bit, but having a roommate meant having to be considerate of the other person.
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What I'm about to relate happened last week. In a sense it was the result of a dare, sort of. Let me explain.
I made a new friend recently who I'll call Jean. Jean and I hit it off right away; we are so much alike, it's scary. Although we differ somewhat in age -- I'm fifty-something, she's thirty-something -- it turns out we both share a wild and naughty aspect to our personalities ... and, we both love cock.
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I suppose you need a bit of background on me first, to set the scene as it were. My name is Sarah Matthews having married (can you believe it) Matthew Matthews some 10 years ago. To this day I can't believe anyone could give their son a name like that, but his parents - who are perfectly nice and sensible - didn't seem to think it was odd.
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In high school, it had always been me, Jodi, and Nadine. I couldn't have hoped for a closer relationship, even with sisters. We were sort of nerds in high school, but under the acne, clueless fashion, and dumb crushes were fun-loving, pretty young women waiting to break free.
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Ever since Katie fucked the pool boy, she's had her eye on younger guys. Of course, that is fine with me as we are as open to new stuff as any couple around. We never went out specifically to find somebody for her, but she obviously saw plenty of potential any time she was out and around. She was even checking out some younger ones of 18 and 19 years old.
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