. I look in the bathroom mirror seeing my tank top on the small of my back and my black panties exposed above my white skinny jeans. I adjust my bra a...d tank top as I walk into an empty stall. I slide my jeans an panties down, sitting on the toilet. My hand between my legs, I rub my clit softly. I know I said its gross but sometimes things just turn you on. I slowly rub my fingers up an down my wet slit, moaning softly. The loud noise of the door opening makes me freeze in place. The sound of. This is the third of those adult stories. Valentine Cake I was feeling miserable as Valentine’s Day approached and I couldn’t see any sign of romance in my life. When I heard Martha in my head offering to tell me another story, I couldn’t refuse. ‘This one is not about me,’ Martha started. ‘It couldn’t be. I’d been dead for years when this happened.’ ‘Then how…?’ I asked. ‘Like you, the main person in this story used to listen to my stories. I became part of her, as you become part of me, and I. 10 days later, about 7:00 one night I came down stairs and heard people talking in the living room. "What happened last weekend, she hasn't been the same since?" There was an edge on Tom's voice when he spoke. "She seemed all right Friday night when she left". That was Dave speaking, Gloria spoke up. "Steve and Marie Daniels left with her, they were going to drop her off since it was pretty late. I talked to Marie last week and she didn't mention anything". "Why don't we all get together. “Please, Patrick, please come to Italy. Patrizio speaks about you all the time. It will make him feel much better if you visit us,” Marco informed me in laboured English. “I’m sorry my English is so poor,” he then added.“Marco, your English is far better than my non-existent Italian,” I assured him.As I spoke these words, I thought about Lionel. During my father’s stay in Italy, he had become fluent in Italian. Lionel was not only fluent in English but also in Afrikaans. The other official.