I thought of this a while back - when there was a problem with the metro train system - and the one I was in was stuck in a tunnel for 40 minutes (tho...gh he wasn't there that time). Anyway - I'm on the train - for some reason I'm wearing my leather pants - it's packed as usual - I'm squashed against the doors - at one side - sort of wedged in a corner. He's standing facing me - looking over my head - everything's perfectly normal as the train goes underground. Then the train comes to a. I hope they enjoy hearing your wonderful voice tell it as much as I have enjoyed writing it for you.Finally, this story is for my own small group of readers. As it is not very similar to previous stories I have published online, it may not be terribly well received, but such is the risk of departing from well-traveled territory.It wasn't until recently that I noticed it, a bass note, underneath, a tone with which my sexual life had always been in harmony.There was Manfred, the boy who took my. But logically, who else has any kind of reason to operate behind everyone's back in secret, and try to stir things up like this?" "You're right," admitted Clyda. "I think that the deeper we dig into this, the less we're going to like it. So what's the next step?" "I want to go with my gut feeling, and get a look at the port number in Barocca's quarters," said Dee Dee. "That'll tell us whether or not she may actually be behind this." "Easier said than done, girl," laughed Clyda. "All of us. She knew graphic design and was even familiar with the cruiser. She pulled up a computer graphic to demonstrate different designs. I picked one that was bold with striking color combination. Also one with large lettering and a phone number that seemed almost 3D on the computer."We will need the car for two or three hours," she informed me."Royce can you bring the car and either wait for it or find a place to hang out till it is done?" I asked."I'm sure I can do that, but not today. Remember I.