”“But what?”“I get this image of a writer. Like a hermit wearing some beat up smelly robe. Because no one’s around to care what you smell li...e. Swigging coffee and smoking cigarettes. Typing away incessantly. Because you’re caught up in your work. Your mind manifested on the page. And that’s all that matters. Giving into your words. Nothing else matters.”“Yeah.”“It’s a solitary life, Joe. The rest of the world be damned. Just you and the typewriter the entirety of your existence. At least when. Wednesday, March 8, 2000Trish wants me to stop going to Margaret. She likes her tea earlier. And the thing is, I am starting to think I am wasting my time and money anyway. We spent the whole time talking about stupid stuff and she has no idea that last night I was crying from happiness because my landlady had me on my knees pulling my hair. But I have been going to Margaret for so long it would be weird to not have her to talk to. Plus how would I tell her? She was playing with Alyssa. It had two bed rooms down stairs and a nice loft up stairs and a real nice open room with a free standing fireplace. The best part was it was all furnished except for bedding and towels but I would have time to buy most of what we would need for right now. I meet Ann and told her about the cabin, I loved the excitement she in her voice as we hugged and kissed. She wanted to levee right away to go see it. I could have waited and have fucked her right there at the fishermen's parking area but. I like it. The feel of his penis positioned and placed in my cunt slays and exterminates me psychologically. What other better initiative and scheme than this? Whew! Ragnhild. I am all ears, Stian. Twirl around, will you please? I roll around? Yes. I want to fuck and spank you from your behind. And I yearn to do it so badly, my dear. Okay. Here I go. I revolve myself unhurriedly and bit by bit, grimacing momentarily as Stian takes away his great, pleasurable dick out of my vulva to caress and.