I don't know what to do."I said, "Look, let's meet for lunch next week and talk about it." Sure, why not. It's got to be after the first of the year. ...'ve got decorating for the holidays, presents to buy for the kids, and contact my lawyer."After all those years, Angie finally went to lunch with me. It was a cold and snowy January day when we met at Olive Garden. When Angie arrived, she looked tired and drawn. Even her electric smile was missing. She wasn't the woman I remembered from the last. I remember us saying things a little differently in spots, but it’s mostly an accurate description of what happened.What I’m doing here is adding in what happened after Bob wrote that. Nobody’s making me do this. It’s just that I think someday it might make a good story so I want to get it all down.First, I need to explain why I said Bob’s description of things was mostly accurate. It was all true from his point of view, but there were some things he didn’t know. Well, one thing he didn’t. The first old lady had a stroke, the second old lady had a stroke, but the third old lady’s arms were too short to reach.A man meets up with an old roommate whom he has not seen for many years.The roommate has had a sex-change operation.“Was it painful?”, asks the former.“No, not really” says the second.“How about when they cut off your dick?”“No that really wasn’t the worst of it.”“Really?” says the first.“How about when they had to create the new hole? That must have been painful.”“No the. .I feel you reach down and assist me by spreading yourself for me, exposing your clit, your wetness ever so apparent, as I salivate, I begin to let my tongue flicker past your clit, you begin to grind into my face, as I lick harder and harder I can feel your juices leak out of you. Taking a break I lower my tongue and mouth down as I begin to work my tongue inside of you, savoring the flavors on my tongue, driving me more and more wild as I lap you up...I can feel you tighten around my tongue,.