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If this was how it was going to feel, then I couldn't waitto become her wife."Woah, that was hot," said a drunk male voice behind us. We looked aroundto see an average looking guy who had clearly had too much to drink. "Butlet a real man show you lezzers what you're missing out on."Emily looked at me, then back at the guy."A real man?" She laughed. "Tell me, does a real man piss his pants infront of two beautiful ladies?" she asked as she clicked her fingers."What are you talking ab..." the man started as he suddenly lookedshocked. All three of us looked at his crotch as a wet patch startedspreading. His face went bright red and he ran to the toilets."I think that's our cue to leave," Emily said. "Besides, I want to takethat hot, new body of yours for a test drive. Do you agree?" she asked asshe gave my neck a light kiss and I almost collapsed into a quiveringmess there and then."Oh yes. Definitely yes," I said breathlessly.Back at Emily's place, we burst in through the bedroom door,. " I just wish we could do something," Sherla sighed."And so we can, since there are paths dug out of the snow," Irenesaid, her eyes twinkling."But how? A flirt such as I would not dream of soiling herlovely skirts on those snowy streets without proper, clearedpaths." Nor would a woman of mature years such as I, my dear, but arough and tumble young lad such as Karl must be simply *itching*to get outside into the snow."Katrina's eyes went wide in surprise. "ME? Out. . THERE?!?" AtIrene's complacent nod, Karl/Katrina shook her head. "I itch, allright, Maman, but it is because of these wooly trousers. Whyever would I want to go out in that wind and snow when there is awarm fire in our room and hot chocolate for the asking?" Why, to deliver a telegram for my husband to the train station.It should be fairly empty of people today and you could make aquick examination of the premises." But Irene," Sherla put in, "You are here as Madame Huxley. Towhom will they deliver the telegram? The.
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He began to slow down when there was nothing in sight, then engaged his turning signal. I followed him down a service road and onto a large open field. Andrew’s truck stopped in the middle of the field. I sat with my car still running and watched him get out. He pulled my bike out and set it on the ground, then climbed into the bed of his truck. He signaled that I should join him. I paused to consider my situation — was it foolish of me to follow this near-stranger to such a remote place after dark? But Andrew seemed nice enough. Miranda knew him and trusted him. I didn’t think I would be exposing myself to any danger by sitting with him. So I turned off my car and joined Andrew in the back of his truck. He was just opening up a cooler and said, ‘I worked through lunch. Mind if I eat?’ The growl of my stomach reminded me that I had missed dinner. I felt foolish for having chosen to argue with Miranda before eating the meal she had cooked for me. ‘Go ahead,’ I told him, staring.

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