238 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
238 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: 3plus/bd-clfrn.txt
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Archive-author:
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Archive-title: Close Friends Birthday
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"You can't go in there. They're still getting ready"
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I flashed him a sheepish look. He nodded and said loudly "I'm
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off. I should be back around midnight" so that they could hear
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him in the bedroom, then left.
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I went back to twitching in the living room. I am still not
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comfortable looking him in the eyes. I know that I was the one
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to insist that she tell him, but I never expected him to accept
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it. Especially not as openly as this.
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It's my birthday. Two married women are "getting ready" in the
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bedroom. Both husbands know, and neither one wants to kill me.
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Yet. I still think of myself as sexually deprived. At 32 (no!
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33 now) these are the third and fourth women I've ever been to
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bed with. If you're involved with two women, then a threesome is
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the obvious step. Isn't it? It seemed so when she suggested it.
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I guess this means that the big fight I had with "B" a month ago
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is behind us now. I haven't been with her since then. Until she
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proposed this birthday gift for me. My other lover was fascinat-
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ed by the idea, and by the timing. I just twitch.
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"OK, you can go in now." I look at them. They're wearing exact-
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ly what they were wearing twenty minutes ago when they went in
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there. The room is identical to what it looked like twenty
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minutes ago. Who knows what "getting ready" requires in a woman.
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Or in two women. When I get anxious, I often hide in getting
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analytical. It drives some of my friends nuts.
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"Go ahead, take your clothes off and lie down. We'll be with you
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in a second." From "B". It sounds like the kind of thing "L"
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usually says. She knows that I'm a very direct person, more into
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action than symbolism. Pure Taurus. B knows that too, but never
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used to express it quite like that. I knew that they'd compare
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notes when I introduced them to each other.
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OK, OK, I know. I'm twitching again. This seemed like a good
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idea on the phone. But...Deep breath. OK. Shirt off. Socks.
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I leave the jeans. You'll see why in a sec.
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"Happy Birthday to you!
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Happy Birthday to you!
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Happy Birthday Greg Studly
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Happy Birthday to you!"
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A muffin with a sparkler for a candle. I moisten my fingers and
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squeeze out the flame. Nope. Would'a been a nice macho move if
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it had worked. sigh. The muffins go on a side table. "for
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later". (?) This is my thirty-third birthday. So how come I
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feel like a fifteen year old.
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"How come you're still dressed?" (B)
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"Both of you are still dressed..."
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"You have to undress us" (B)
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"Ditto. I know how L likes these..."
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The traditional annoyance crosses her face. L has hated my
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buttonfly jeans ever since we've been going out. Four months
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now. I got them because a discussion on a computer net said
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women loved them. Maybe not, but they're still a great tease.
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Well, they're gone now.
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I embrace B, start kissing her deeply and reach up the back of
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her shirt for the bra hooks. I am proud that I can unhook them
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one-handed, even with my little experience. Nope. She's wearing
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the front-hook ones today. Sigh. So much for suave and sophis-
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ticated. I break the clinch, and reach up the front. She lifts
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the shirt out of the way. I unhook one of the five or six that
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are there and stop. A hand on my inner thigh. I look down. L
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is already naked and caressing my legs. She's staying away from
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my action zone, I guess until she knows I'm paying attention. I
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look back at B. Didn't I...Right. I undo the rest of the bra and
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reach for a breast. L's hands appear out of nowhere and "deal
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with" the bra somehow. I look down. The rest of B's clothing is
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gone somehow. L, I guess.
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"OK, everyone onto the bed" (L)
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"Do I have to?" (grinning)
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"If you don't, we'll start without you." A believable threat.
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They're both happily bi, though B didn't realize it until I
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introduced her to L. One of the REASONS I introduced her to L.
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Oops. Getting analytical again. Instead of...they're
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waiting...they're lying there naked with exactly the right amount
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of space between them.
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I crawl in between them, lie on my back and put an arm under
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each. Kiss L. Kiss B. Now what do I do with my hands? All I can
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reach are backs and asses. I can't even reach either head with-
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out breaking an arm off. So I play with backs. And with ass-
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flesh. And play tongue sushi. For too long. Now what. Do I
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make a move, or does one of them. Finally, L heads "down". She
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kisses it, and moves on to kissing B where it counts. She keeps
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one hand moving slowly on me and uses the other with B. I've
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finally got a hand free, and reach for B's breast. Her nipples
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come up like magic. I alternate between sucking a nipple and
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more tongue sushi. I've finally got my right hand freed and am
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playing with an ear.
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I look down. I see L's hand on my cock, moving slowly, and a
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some of the rest of her. The breast that I can see has an in-
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tensely erected nipple. I WANNA SEE WHAT SHE'S DOING. I can't.
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I return to B's breasts.
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"Is she ready down there?"
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"(mumble murph) She ready."
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I roll back onto my back. B rolls onto me. L makes some adjust-
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ments then fits us together. B starts moving. I make the appro-
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priate counter-moves. Where is L? Must be watching. I don't
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see her at all. Yes. She's sitting on my ankles. I, um.
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Right. I rapidly hit my traditional barely-sub-orgasmic plateau
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and stayed there. And stayed there. Drives the women mad. Or
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so they tell me. I'm not too aware of the next ten minutes. L
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is watching us from "below", occasionally touching here, and
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there. I ride on the very edge of 'gasm while B comes up to the
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edge, to it and over. I suppress my response to her 'gasm. I'm
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back into awareness and need my reserves for the next part.
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B disengages, moves up a few inches, and lies on me. I'm enough
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taller that she can kiss me and leave my action zone free for L.
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Who has it. I'm into her mouth, and back to my sub-O'bital
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plateau again in an instant. B has my mouth in full action, and
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is playing with my chest. Time passes, but I don't notice. I'm
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HERE, wherever here is. And I come. Loudly, and copiously.
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"Awright!" (B). B rolls off of me to watch L's conclusion. L
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swallows a couple of times, polishes me off and moves up to kiss
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me. "I guess I got something for your birthday, too!" I'm sensi-
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tive about oral sex and they've been trying to get me to come
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that way for 4 months now. L is fascinated by cum and never gets
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enough.
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L has kept a hand on me while we kiss. She won't let me go soft.
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It's her turn next. Suddenly I'm in her and she's sitting on me.
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Little chunks of time seem to vanish here and there. She's
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kissing B and moving on me. I move B onto my face. More time
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lost. I experience it, but I'm not doing too well at filing it
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into memories.
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I have two hands up. One on a B cup breast, and the other on a
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firmer C . Somewhere above that there's kissing and facework.
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But I can't see it. I'm a visual person. Cunnilingus is fun,
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but I can't see a damn thing. And it's MY party, isn't it? I
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mumble something moistly and try to clear my head from under B.
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It doesn't work. We get a moment of mass confusion where every-
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thing stops while they try to figure out what I want. Oops!
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We settle again. L is still riding me enthusiastically, and I
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have a couple of my right fingers inside B. My left hand mingles
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with L's on B's breasts. B's hands are on L's breasts and some-
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where above that, tongue sushi continues.
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After only about a minute of this, I reach my plateau, and this
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time, move beyond it into explosion almost immediately. L comes
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with me and the group collapses into a pile of sweating, panting
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bodies.
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Rest break. I look at the clock. 11:20. An hour and 15 minutes
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of action. More or less. I smile. Three or four minutes pass,
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until everyone is breathing normally.
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L reaches over to the night table and hands out the cupcakes.
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The one that had my candle on it and two others. She and B start
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feeding each other little nibbles, and fingersmears of icing.
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Like in the movies. One's on each side of me as I lie there,
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looking up at them sharing a mouthful of cupcake.
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As they finish, I reach up to offer more cupcake, mine, just as B
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moves to reach for something. I smear icing over the back of her
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elbow. I sit up to lick it off.
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SPARKS! Huh? Who would put an erogenous zone on the back of the
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arm up from the elbow? I try again. Yup. It's there. I say
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something in my normal pseudo-sarcasm. L tries the other elbow.
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B collapses across me, with smiles.
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L pulls my hand to her breast, and moves in for more deep kiss-
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ing. L is a kiss person. B's hand is on me again. I'm UP!
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Already again?
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I break with L and crawl onto B. Into. Hmmmm...sure I'm up, but
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I don't have the energy anymore to DO anything with it. I start
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to fade. L grabs machinery from B's toy drawer and moves in. I
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pull out and lie beside B, sucking one nipple and playing with
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the other breast. L is working her up from below. I reach down
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and feel the dildo moving in, twist, and out. L flashes me a
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grin. Time passes. I leave L to manage B's needs and veg in a
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fog of pleasant feelings. Eventually B is done. I move over
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between them again and veg out again.
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Time passes. 12:15. I ask "When did [he] say he'd be back?" I
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thought that he was returning about midnight. L says "two". B
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just lays there smiling.
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The door. Keys. Well, I guess he didn't say "Two o'clock".
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Deep down somewhere inside, I try to worry. Guys have been shot
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for less. Don't have the energy to worry. B grabs a bathrobe
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and goes to meet him. She shuts the bedroom door on her way out.
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"No hurry. Relax."
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Relax? Me? I sit up. Nope. I sit up. I'm still lying there.
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OK, I concentrate. I sit up. Successfully. I ask L whether my
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clothes were on her side of the bed, or out in the living room.
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Nope. What comes out is "My, um, y'know? Did..." She is laugh-
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ing almost hysterically. I try again. "It's...not...Um,
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ah,...FUNNY!" I'm a speech oriented person. It's embarrassing
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whenever this happens. They both always find it funny. I have
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no problems arranging the sentences in my head. They just don't
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work when I speak them.
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I summon "the engineer". One of my alternate personae. "he"
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doesn't really participate in sex, other than to critique tech-
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nique or to post-analyze things. And "he" can speak afterwards.
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I gather my clothes and dress. Eventually. L continues to watch
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my efforts hysterically.
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I come out to the living room, trailing L. B's hubby is there.
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He tells me that he fixed the door on my car, more or less. He
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tells me that my brakes need adjusting. He tells me that I need
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a new gas-line filter.
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I mumble something at him, bow deeply at B, and leave, taking L
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with me. It's over. I'm now officially thirty-three. Or a
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teenager. Take your pick. I feel like the latter. :)
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--
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True story. Names have been changed to protect privacy.
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