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"Oh hi, hello there, don't worry about it, what can I do for you?" I replied, my brain in overtime trying to place the face."I... I don't normally, in...rude like this on guests but..."I glanced at her name tag 'Lauren' my mind was overheating. I only knew one Lauren but that was way back at High School, no way..."Lauren Hale?" I questioned her."Oh my you do remember me?" She perked up."I'm sorry it did take me some time" I nervously laughed. "It's been so long" It has" her face went a little. We were asked to play several songs from each genre of music.”“Even better!” he excitedly replied.“We’re going to lead off our second set with Ain’t That a Shame. Then, we’re going to play a couple of CCR tunes, Born on the Bayou and Green River. Our fourth song is one I wrote called, Keep Your Hands to Yourself.”(Note: This song is by the Georgia Satellites from 1986. More on this song in a future chapter.)“The students at Glencoe should like it ... a lot,” Jennifer added.“It’s a humorous song. . say reality check on my fantasy." Like what, seeing me in my undies?" Well, I've seen you in your bikini, and you looked good, by the way, but what if you were - - in the nude?" Naked." Yeah"She thought for a long moment. "What of instead of blunting your edge, that whets it instead?"I took a chance and asked, "What did that one time with grandpa do? Make you more or less lusting for sex with him?"More thinking, then she said, "Grab a couple more beers and meet me in the rec room, make sure. Anju: Pinne, athonnum pattilla. Njan onnamath pavadaya ittekkane, vere para.Adi: Ath paranja pattila, truth or dare il accept cheythe pattu.Anju: Please da. Ne verenth venelum paranjo, njan cheyyam. Pakshe ithonnum pattilla.Adi: Ahaa, enth venelum cheyyoo?Anju: Aahm, cheyyam vere enthum.Adi: Enna enikkoru umma thanne.Anju: Ayyada, chekkante oru poothi nokkike. Neee alu kollaloo.Adi: Athinippam enna. Vere countries ilokke umma kodukkarundallo. Nee oru pazhanjana.Anju: Pinne njan.

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“Water, please. We’ll have to watch it tonight. Or at least pretend to.” He winks at me as I bring him the glass. “And what exactly would we b... doing instead?” I ask teasingly. He tugs me onto his lap without a word and kisses me. My fingers slide through his hair as one of his hands finds my ass and the other traces circles on my cheek. I attempt to wriggle from his grasp but he tightens his arm around my lower waist and ass, gripping tightly and causing a damp spot to appear on my panties. He. Despite the title of this less than epic story, I am happy to state I never came under sniper fire, at least not in that country. The “Sniper in the Tree-line” is a bit of an inside joke because it was used by me on one occasion to get a visiting Hollywood starlet to huddle in a foxhole for a memorable fifteen minutes of pulse-pounding excitement. The “Sniper in the Treeline” nickname added to my own was a lot better than being called “Bugs” by perfect strangers.Strictly a nickname to denote. More

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