Not that I am mad at herfor it. She wrote a journal that spoke to so many people that itcouldn't help being successful.But, because of that book I've ...lways been known as the little sister ofthe author, rather than someone in my own right. She told her story, andso I am going to tell mine. I don't write as many details as she mighthave, and my ideas are overarching. No matter whether or not it becomesfamous or not, it needs to be told as much as hers. Remember when youread it though, that I am. Her E320 CDi had given up the ghost a few months ago. It was 14 years old, and had been driven back and forth to the Farm numerous times a week, a 150-mile round trip. She had almost 400k miles on it, some rust, and a variety of little things. When the injectors started gumming up from “black death”, it was just the last straw.She had just been promoted to president of North Dakota State, so we just bought her another new Mercedes. It was a black 2019 E450 Wagon with the luxury appearance. "The manager took me to a door next to the front desk marked with the words "Employees Only". He opened the door and inside I could see a dressing room."On the far left are the showers. I'll tell the staff that you are in here so you will have some privacy." Thanks," I said just before the owner closed the door behind me.I started to undress and I noticed that I reeked. I had been on a train since early that morning and I must have sweated like a pig. After getting out of my clothes, I entered. I decided to text the fantasy I was about to imagine and figured I'd wait for her reactions:When she came home I made her read back to me the message while I fingered her pussy.Text message:"So the fantasy I had. We are having a few drinks. Bonfire. Friends are over and it's getting late. People are starting to get up and say goodbye. Couple people picking up chairs. You tell people don't worry about it we will get it. I'm sitting by fire sipping a beer. You head into the house. You stumble.