Grilled cheese and tomato soup w4m You creep in like the sunlight. I close my eyes and I see your silhouette against my lids. It's past time this was over. In dreams and in daylight your ghost comes ing. I've packed and boxed you up. Yet, it seems that door is closed but it's not locked. I continue to think of you and lately to worry for you. Answer my letters although I couldn't ask- it will blow my soul away. Array penis pump buddy Walla WallaLets please one another w4m 24 (Indianapolis) 24
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ca65 single Independence female looking lovecame in at 9am this morning and won't be leaving till around 11 am tomorrow . I've got 75 little girls having a party and a sleepover at the club tonight. they'll dance to a dj, get make overs and do each other's nails for a while, by midnight I plan on having them swim for an hour and then we take a creepy scary tour of the building at night, (it's supposedly haunted)I've got some ghost stories about the place and I'm actually looking forward to hearing them scream, lol, like only 9 year old girls can do. I'm just glad that I only agree to do this once a year. wants passion
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looking for a nice fem there were no walls or anything separating it from the main dinning hall. If it was enclosed in some manner I would agree with that sort of rationale. I could sit 20 feet from there and there would have been nothing between me and the hibachi tables. They would have basiy the same view as if I sat at the hibachi table. And yes the common dinning area requires a swim suit and shirt. But on toga night shirts are really required. There were others wearing as little as me and hell the staff put my toga on me. It is just kinda strange, they expect clothes in some areas most of the time except when they don't. It just makes me think about how artificial our societal rules on clothing are. You would get crap for going on in panties and a bra but not going out in an equally revealing bikini. Muskegon singles xxx
Whew! As we all know, lesbians, like cats, are inherently psychic; and so for this reason I have decided to post an account of my dream last night in hopes some of you might interpret it. ;) The short version: I fell eight stories down an elevator shaft and landed safely. The version: I was in a hotel and went to an elevator bank that said, "Elevator Outbound." (How Wonka is that? And Bostonians recognize the word 'Outbound' from the subway, which is weird, cause I seldom take the subway.) I get in. Elevator normal in appearance, but then I realize there are no floors. I start to fall. And when I fall I feel my body increase in speed unlike my other falling dreams, in which I am floating or rotating as I fall downward. I think, 'I've got to move to lessen velocity.' So I start to kick my legs; I start to reach out to the sides of the elevator in hopes of touching the wall to further slow my descent, eventually placing my hands briefly on this or that panel to slow myself. The stop-action movements seem to work, but I am still falling speedily. Suddenly the POV changes. I am not looking to the side or down, but now have an aerial view of myself. I that I am approaching the bottom. So I kick my legs out to if I can bounce off the small walls of the elevator. This, and the action of my hands, gets me into a bouncing mode. I'm worried about breaking my ankles, so then I start kicking the way I do when I swim flutter, flutter. And I land. I am entirely fine. I get up and I two people. One of them hands me a wad of cash and says, 'This is yours if you don't tell anyone about the weapons in the elevator.' I said, 'What's your anme? '-, but it's really.' Said I, 'Oh, I have two names, too.'" Then some woman came over and said, "Was that you who fell eight stories? I can't believe you're alive." End of dream. i often get hot while reading it
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