We texted back and forth the next day, and the day after that. I was like we were afraid to Skype again, for fear of, ... I don't know what. Afraid it would happen again? Not really, I wished it would. Afraid that she would be forever freaked out, once she had come back to reality? Very!
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Chapter 1
I have been the principal coach/Trainer of a local ladies hockey team from a small town in Ireland. We were preparing for the start of the new league season and had planned a training and fitness camp in a well known resort in the south of Spain as a way of getting the season off to a good start.
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John watched her over the top of his drink. She was Christine or Chris as she liked to be called, the best looking woman in the office. This was another after works drink that was supposed to help create a better bonding session in the office, but was in reality a chance to get drunk.
Chris was a terrible flirt once she had a few drinks. She would flirt outrageously with the guys but stop short of letting them do anything more than snog her.
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Her silence spoke volumes as she looked out of the open window and saw a sea of green fields, interspersed by little islets of trees and edges.
In the distance, a shadowy grey escarpment blocked her view of the sea itself, but she could hear the waves throwing themselves against the cliff-face under the heavy grey skies; and he wasn't listening to her.
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I remember it as being one of 'those' weeks.
Sunday was my twenty-second birthday and my mother took me to lunch at The Connaught. On such occasions, my mother likes to take charge. I think that the elderly couple at the next table thought that I was her Toy Boy. Oh well, if it brightened up their outing.
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Maggie couldn't believe her luck. She knew she had been a long shot for the assignment to cover the first Mardis Gras in New Orleans after the flood. At twenty-two years of age she was only one of a large group of junior writers at the paper, but she had been working hard and producing some good writing and had been rewarded with the job.
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I guess I felt a little funny the next day. The nighttime skinny-dipping and my surrender to gay sex ran through my mind and into my dreams all night. I was still pondering it all in the morning.
Mike was the first man I had ever had sex with. His was the first cock I had put in my mouth. I found myself wondering just what this meant about me. Was I gay, or bi? I wasn't sure.
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On January 24, 1965, I reached the mature age of nineteen years and left Michigan State University in a snowstorm. It had snowed more than a foot and the drive south to Baroda took over six hours. I have reflected on that day upon more than one occasion in my life, and still marvel at how seemingly innocuous events can have such far-reaching repercussions.
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Slowly opening my eyes I hear the rush of the water from the bathroom. The sprays of water hitting the sides of the shower as you move. Smiling wide, closing my eyes picturing my perfect sexy Master in all his naked glory washing away the left overs of our night together. I moan as I move, the delicious ache between my thighs from your attentions during the night reminding me of every mind-blowing moment with you.
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I couldn't keep my eyes off of the elegant older woman sitting in the top row of the bleachers at the matinee of the ritzy horse fair.
I also couldn't help but notice that she was making a less than subtle production out of lowering her designer sunglasses and looking me up and down, smiling in a cat-that-wants-to-swallow-the-canary way. Younger women, or at least women who were my age, didn't begin to know how to smile like that.
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