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Friday Night

A smile crosses my face as I remember what we did. Your words, your hands commanding my hands, my body reacting at each touch, at each murmured suggestion.

Your hands trace my body as my own do, both touching, caressing. Your mouth at mine, o
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The Party

It was your daughter's birthday party. A day marked by frustration and stresses, excitement and laughter, and temperamental weather.

We sat together, surveying the aftermath. Paper plates, plastic cups, streamers and wrapping paper strewn ever
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