I lay down to take a nap one evening, catching a few z’s before you come to visit, I’m sure to need my energy for when you arrive. I doze off. Dreams of you run through my head, most of them quite naughty:
Toulouse in July. We were staying at my great-grandmother’s house. It was one of those grand old houses that had fallen into disrepair, walls peeling and concrete steps crumbling. It still had the old-fashioned wrought iron gates around it and the grapevine hanging over the porch.
Three months ago I met pretty nineteen-year old Sarah at the book mega-store I’ve been going to lately. She was so accommodating helping me to answer a question on fellatio (by blowing me among the book shelves) that I have been returning to the store almost every day since. If she’s working, I stick around. When she sees me now, she asks for her break and we find a quiet aisle again.
So…. how will our first meeting go? I wonder and think of this: We meet in a place that is comfortable for both of us such as a restaurant. We can’t take our eyes off each other with the anticipation of what will happen next! We get through the casual lunch, and decide we definitely want to take it further.
The holiday week on the coast was rapidly coming to an end. My three roommates and I have had plenty of fun baking our bodies to a crisp, dipping them in the cool waters of the English channel, playing beach volleyball, sitting at the tables of the outdoor cafes and observing the passersby, gossiping, eating and drinking more than should be allowed by law and generally having a very good end of the summer.
I worked for a fairly large company, housed in a six-story building, on a floor with mostly women. The majority of the women were married, in their thirties and forties, with a few of the women being older, some younger.
I’ve known Marcy for a couple of years. We work at the same office in billing. It’s not a bad deal, we have an office to ourselves and no one bothers us. Marcy is a real sweetheart, cute as a button and funny as hell! About six months ago she got Pregnant by some Douche Bag, who after six months left her saying, He didn’t think he could handle being a Dad! It had Marcy upset for the last week or so, and it really is a shame because I know she will make a wonderful Mother and would make a good wife, to some lucky man.
