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The woman that I see is a private fuck party waiting to meet someone that will make them lose all control of their inhibitions. The woman that I see i... waiting for me. These are the stories that make up my life. Not my life at home with my wife, but my life as a nightmare for husbands and boyfriends everywhere. This week, I was on my way to Seattle. My flight was set to make a stopover in Las Vegas where I had allowed myself about three hours to eat dinner and kill some time in between. He started making small talk in his low quiet voice and I nervously replied. Our trysts had been very hush-hush and his presence here made me squirm as my conscience turned a spotlight on my clandestine activities so all could see. I turned the conversation to a safe subject … cars, mine in particular. After I checked out of work we stood outside talking and I mentioned that I had just put in bucket seats in the front of my ’57 Chevy. We walked over to the car, inspecting them as I told how I. He said for me to give him an hour to draft a restraining order for the judge to sign. He also said he would call the new county recorder and apprise her of her clerk's action and see what she had to say. I was to call him back in an hour.I told the people from the gulch what I had been told and they were all smiles at the news. I noticed the woman from the valley was their spokesman and she seemed to have her arguments carefully thought out.We sat around and drank coffee and whiled the hour. My pussy started to moisten as I started to lose myself in my fantasy, of being kissed passionately, being kissed and licked slowly down my body, my breasts being sucked, nipples licked, bitten and pulled, all by another woman. By now, my mind was a blur, my body aroused to its limits, mouth open as my tongue licked my lips seductively, my legs opening as my feet drew closer to my bum and the fingers of my left hand creeping slowly from the towel by my body, up onto my stomach towards my aching.

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Once dry, I put on the white, lacy g-string I'd just bought and took my little black dress out of the closet. As you may remember, dear Diary, I bough... it a few years ago in a fit of madness, and since my mother always told me "a lady shows legs or cleavage, but never both," I've never worn it. It looked sensational on me. It really emphasized my trim figure, and the built-in underwired bra pushed up my small boobs to spectacular effect. It was scandalously short; I'd have to be careful about. “That’s what I mean. You hire out for sex ... but it’s not like you’re hiring out for sex.”“Look,” he said. “I’m not in this for the money. It’s nice. It helps. I’ve been able to help my sisters because of it, but that’s not the deal here.”“I know that,” she said. “That’s why you seem so different. When we were in high school, you were scared to death of me.”“If we were back then, I’d probably still be scared to death of you.” He grinned. “But that was a long time ago.”“Now, I’m scared to death. More

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