Friday, August 21, 2015

Notes-The Mill

One look at the photograph taken in the early morning does not do the story justice. There I was. There was Jim. There was Lynn also on the far side of me. Sam was front and center, as he likes it, with me peering around him leaning on the bar. There was my cleavage pressing into Sam's arm. I had his bicep in my boobs grasp.That was the night I got what I had longed for. This night also drove home the words, “be careful what you wish for”.

My frustration had reached new heights that very day. Why is it the men I do not want peering at my breasts are always leering, while the man I want to show them off to would always speak to me eye to eye. I had never even caught Sam sneaking a peek. What I did not realize is just how sneaky he really was. But he is a man. Now he is my midnight Sam.

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Purveyor of paralogical compliance to verbally mediated reality, artisanal smut, with a pinch of full time flâneur tossed in to taste.