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So, the last time I saw you I only worked up the courage to ask for your e-mail address because I thought you were powerful cute and that I'd be a blithering idiot not to find out if you could indeed melt my panties into combusted commando..but I had a book to give you, and still do. I wrote it because you changed my life the night I burst in in a panic. You're in my framework, and I always stand my ground when I'm in a dangerous sexual situation. I just know, I know, that I won't just crumple and die, so I get nerves of steel even when I've got a fist in my face. And you I would rebrand myself Silly Putty for, if my knees do jelly so themselves!
Your e-mail address whipped away with the wind when I yanked my camera out of my pocket. I've never, ever been back. The kid that night-you saw how young he was! Much too young for me, yet-curses! Foiled again! I kept hoping you wouldn't think we were together! I was in a car accident a year ago yesterday and have had two operations. I'm mostly okay now..and I keep wishing I could give you the book of your life! The guy I just finally really clicked with, who was really kind and brilliant, and reminded me of you in that he had a good heart, was just wonderful, and he was killed in a car accident visiting family just upstate. What's the point in stifling myself anymore? I'd really like to tell you that I've wanted to get to know you since you gave me a stack of napkins and one of the most compassionate nights of my life.
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My name is Danny, , athletic, easy-going, capricorn, and I'm a native Oregonian and lived in Phoenix AZ from 97-99. I've never been married and don't have any kids but I do love kids and there innocent nature.
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I was in downtown during the G20, as I had to go to meet someone. There was this G20 summit going on there, and the security etc was crazy. On my way back, all the highways were closed, and I was stuck in the traffic that was trying to get out of downtown. And we also had thunderstorms. And I needed to go for a leak ! I figured I would be ok, as as I could get on a highway, and would get home enough, and anyways, I didn't have any other option, as I couldn't get out of the traffic even if I wanted to. And as time passed, my bladder got really full, so, to make it a little easier for me, till I could get out of the traffic, I unbuttoned the button of my jeans. It certainly did feel better for a while, but, I realised that the unbuttoning wasn't enough, and that it would still be a while before I could get to a gas station or something. So I went ahead and pulled the zipper down a bit, and it did feel like a big relief. It didn't take me to figure out that I was better off with the front of my jeans unbuttoned and the zipper pulled all the way down. I did have it all covered with my tshirt, and so didn't have to worry about anything. After about 10 minutes, I did manage to get out of the traffic and find a gas station. You can only imagine how relieved I was ! Anyways, once I got back into the car, I thought about what I had done, and it seemed kind of thrilling the fact that I was driving like that in the city, with everyone around me, and them not knowing my condition, and it was a funny kind of a feeling within I still had a good 30 minutes drive home, and I thought, why not do it again ? And the thought of it started to make me want to do it more and more.. So once I had pulled out of the gas station, I unbuttoned my jeans again, and continued driving like that It was pouring outside, but was busy traffic, and there were cars around me all the time It did excite me, and I could feel myself getting hard, and very, I couldn't resist unzipping my jeans too, and just covering it with my t-shirt. As i kept driving, it was more and more exciting, and a turn on in a way wanted germatown or Wonalancet New Hampshire woman for ocasional companyYou get out of the car. You gather the cigarettes, keys, and sunglasses, and stop when you notice the wet spot on your driver's seat. You'd been gushing all day. If there was a God, none of it had been noticed on your black attire by any coworkers during your brief, mutual escape from the office. You think about how raw and red your pussy would be, not to mention loose and difficult to impress. You've been in full mode for days, and hinting that it's only making you hornier. What are you going to tell me when you come inside? Obviously, circumstances are going to force honesty. Better to speak up than be caught in denial. You step into the door, peeking around timidly, and close it behind you. You set your things down at the table by the mail and step into the livingroom. You me on the couch, looking up at you. I stand and approach, looking curiously, noticing your mental distraction. I furrow my brow. I grab your ass and kiss your mouth. Hesitantly at first, you return it, with more passion, followed by tears and a frightened gingerness. My head retreats and cocks to one side. “Wow,” I observe. “Bad day, huh?” You let out a nervous laugh. Your lips purse and your nose wrinkles, and you're looking at my chest. Your hands go there, and your tears begin flowing for real. You won't look at me. I take your face into my hands and tell you, “it's going to be okay, please tell me what's wrong?” You ball your fists up and take a deep breath, look to the side for a minute to catch a thought. Your lips furrow and you nod once. “Okay. But, go sit down.” I hesitate, but then do. I return to the couch and try to be patient. You follow. Standing before me at a two-foot distance and gazing at the floor, you cup your hands in front of your mouth. “That guy who ed the radio station today on the drive home.” I try not to seem amused, but I am, at the seeming impertinence. “Yeah?” Your jaw is clenched. “That um. That. Wasn't you?” My brows bestow a comical face of uncomprehending farce. “No ” You nod, and smile, but then wipe tears away, which are replaced by new ones. “Okay.” I reach out and gently snatch your hand. I smile up at you playfully, and ask, “Why, were you a bad girl at the office?” sex old women
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