Shit! That was right! Jack had told me I had to make an appearance at his folks’ place this Sunday for dinner. “Absolutely!” I told him. “Woul...n’t miss it!” Not without a good reason, like stubbing my toe or breaking a nail! “What should I wear?”“Uh, well, it is a Sunday dinner...” Jack stammered a bit, taking his time. “Well, I mean, uh, Mom’s a little, uh, conservative...”“So, the microskirt and mesh top are out, right?” I teased.“Yeah, they’re out. Something a little more conservative,” he. Still, the s**ttered moments of sheer exhilaration should not be denigrated. One morning of a trip, a friend called me early knowing that often I’m a very early riser. We long had enjoyed calling each other in part for the scratching of an itch not readily susceptible of amelioration otherwise. She could be most accomodating like the time I called when she was in bed between fucks, proceeded to recount for me in lubricious detail the activities of recent past ultimately to the delight and. More

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