. ," slurred Irene. "You nevah let me use the... wha' the hell is that tub out there." The spa?" questioned John, trying to keep his eyes focused. "He..., good idee... let's get in the spa. C'mon, Ree," John stumbled to her and with arms entwined they staggered into the alcove."Uh, oh. No swimmy suit, Johnny." Irene said sadly. "I din't bring a bikini. Oh, shit." Fuck it. Let's go skinny dip... uh, whas it called. Skinny somthin," John laughed.Irene laughed in return. "Okey doke, las' one nekkid. The door is pulled open and the dark opening is staring at you. It is one of those devices similar to the ones at the library. A heavy door with a wide opening. Once you put something inside and close the door it drops down out of reach. There will be no going back once you drop your clothes inside.You lick your dry lips and with a sigh you put the printout into your pocket. You step out of your sandals and pick them up. With a quick nervous move you drop the sandals inside and close the door.. Out. Out. Out. We were both waked out of our heads on poppers. I watched her agonizingly slow thrust from all the angles of the room. I stared at each mirror. I floated all around. In. In. In. Out. Out. Out. She moved effortlessly in my well lubricated hole. In. In. In. Out. Out. Out. My head rocked back and forth. Back and forth. The brain at the base of my spine and the brain at the base of her spine were in intimate communion. They spoke a love language to each other that was beyond all. (Reference my story: “Better Than A Weekend At Disney Land”) I knocked on Donna’s door, all I heard was “C’mon in, open”. I let myself in, “High Donna, it’s me Pete”. “You’re early, C’Mon back”, Donna yelled. Walking back I was surprised at how quiet the house seemed, Donna and Danny had three c***dren (6, 8, & 11) and they made a lot of noise.“Back here Pete”, Donna said. Going into their bedroom Donna was in a bathrobe soaking wet, looking like she just got out of the shower. “Help me dry?”.
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"History is an interesting thing, Duric. We can learn from it. Or we can be hopelessly bound to it. Carolas no longer serves as the former, and is rap
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