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So they must have stopped teasing her. She seemed to be more relaxed because she was leaning back in the booth and seemed to be breathing deeper. I ...lanced up again, to see that her eyes weren't even open at one point. Her drink must be getting to her, I suspected.I decided to let her enjoy it...since it was her birthday and all. When she opened her eyes and saw that I was looking at her...she jumped a little and must have hit Marcus because his whole arm shook. She smiled sheepishly and. ..”“I’m good,” she smiled, kissing him and his dick.She needed to keep showing him her New York. They stopped at the dark and scary Dakota, less famous for Rosemarie’s Baby than for the moment outside it less than a year before where John Lennon had been shot. In the park nearby, impromptu memorials, graffiti and objects, would be replaced by Strawberry Fields in a couple years. It moved them to tears.They crossed the park, her showing him the large meadow, the grandstand, and the little lake. Afterwards he reloaded the trolley and left. He made no improper advances in ant shape or form. I was a little disappointed but it had been a hectic day and I fell asleep sitting up reading my Kindle.I awoke the following morning feeling wonderful and practically purred with the warmth and softness of the bed. I cleaned my teeth and showered, then went downstairs to the restaurant. It had only just opened and apart from one man sitting at a table by the windows, the restaurant was empty ... I. His lips at her ear, fingertips on her backbone, his thigh pushing in, his muscles moving and tightening underneath. So close.A tingling, a letting go, anticipation.The beautiful man. Beautiful and full of need. Searching eyes, nervous laughter, limbs that cannot stop twitching.Drawn to her: the ideal, the archetype, the femme fatale, the goddess. Again and again, searching for perfection.A senseless desire to merge. Everything else a distraction: ambition, career, family, relationships, goals,.
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