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		<title>Rebel Against Her Will</title>
		<link>http://adultxblogs.com/archives/rebel-against-her-will</link>
		<comments>http://adultxblogs.com/archives/rebel-against-her-will#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 23 Oct 2007 15:20:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[   Nevertheless, I still found myself rebelling against her
fondling me in public, and the matter came to a head one night,
after I had been living with her about six weeks, when she was
entertaining her friends at her home.  I was circulating through
the crowd serving drinks and hors d&#8217;oeuvres when I heard one [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>   Nevertheless, I still found myself rebelling against her<br />
fondling me in public, and the matter came to a head one night,<br />
after I had been living with her about six weeks, when she was<br />
entertaining her friends at her home.  I was circulating through<br />
the crowd serving drinks and hors d&#8217;oeuvres when I heard one of<br />
Bonnie&#8217;s girl friends asking her when she was going to marry me.<br />
Bonnie threw back her head and roared with laughter.  &#8220;Marry<br />
him!&#8221; she exclaimed.  &#8220;Why should I marry him?  I own him!  He&#8217;s<br />
my little toy.  You don&#8217;t marry a toy; you play with it, and when<br />
you get bored with it you throw it away.&#8221;  Turning to me, where I<br />
was serving drinks several feet away, she said, &#8220;Isn&#8217;t that<br />
right, Baby Buns?&#8221;<br />
     I put the tray down and went over to her.  &#8220;I didn&#8217;t hear<br />
that,&#8221; I said.<br />
     She chuckled, put one arm around my waist and pulled me<br />
against her.  &#8220;I made up a little poem about you, Baby Buns. Want<br />
to hear it?&#8221;<br />
     I flushed.  &#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know&#8230;&#8221;</p>
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		<title>Southern Peach</title>
		<link>http://adultxblogs.com/archives/southern-peach</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Aug 2007 16:07:39 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[     The day was hot and humid like any others in the South, where
the air was so infested with odors and sweat you actually had to
swim through it.  And clothes, heck, it was minimal while it clung
to you like a wet towel.  It was 101 degrees with a humidity [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>     The day was hot and humid like any others in the South, where<br />
the air was so infested with odors and sweat you actually had to<br />
swim through it.  And clothes, heck, it was minimal while it clung<br />
to you like a wet towel.  It was 101 degrees with a humidity of 100<br />
per cent, or at least, that was what it felt like.  I was being<br />
boiled right on my seat in this supposedly air conditioned<br />
hamburger joint that was called, &#8220;Art&#8217;s Burgers&#8221;&#8211;the sign was<br />
vandalized and now said, &#8220;Art&#8217;s Bugers.&#8221;<br />
     I had been invited by my friend Chris to visit his folks and<br />
see the South, which he promised would be &#8220;a whole boot&#8217;n fun.&#8221;  So<br />
far, all there had been was a soak-fest, a slimy burger that I<br />
thought moved, and supreme boredom.  <span id="more-68"></span><br />
     I asked myself, &#8220;Why am I here?&#8221;<br />
     I answered, &#8220;Waiting for Chris.&#8221;<br />
     &#8220;Okay, but why did decided to come to Georgia in the first<br />
place?&#8221;<br />
     &#8220;Because Chris asked.&#8221;<br />
     &#8220;Okay, but why is Chris late?&#8221;<br />
     &#8220;I don&#8217;t know, maybe he got hit by a Confederate soldier and<br />
got mowed down.  Just shut up and enjoy your burger.&#8221;<br />
     So I shut up and tried my best to enjoy the greasy burger.<br />
When I say greasy, I mean, oil was dripping out of the burger.<br />
Better yet, the grease looked like 10W/40 after 3000 miles.<br />
Finally disgusted with the foul taste, I spate out the single bite<br />
I took out of the most disgusting food that I had ever attempted to<br />
eat.  Instead, I quaffed down the flat Coke.  Here I was in a<br />
little itty-bitty town called Sunrise(or something like that) in<br />
the middle of nowhere, past trying to finish Art&#8217;s Buger, and horny<br />
as hell.  The latter was noted with distinction.   I think it was<br />
the heat.<br />
     I looked out.  Chris was not there yet.  For that matter,<br />
there was nobody outside&#8230;just a two dogs biting each others&#8217;<br />
heads off and making a racket.  So I examined the insides of the<br />
modest resort called &#8220;Art&#8217;s Bugers.&#8221;  It was red.  I mean, CHERRY<br />
RED; it was decked out in the fifties motif, with the jukebox and<br />
the checkered floor.  If it got any more sickening cliche, I was<br />
probably living in a cartoon.  And judging by the good taste of the<br />
populace, I was the only customer at 1:13PM.  Precisely.<br />
     There was Art, a frail looking chef with grey stubble and a<br />
unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.  There was<br />
the was sweet looking Mrs. Art Bugers, who had so kindly served me<br />
earlier the black plague, and there was J&#8217;Belle, their daughter.<br />
And she was looking mighty fine to me at that moment, hungry as I<br />
was.<br />
     She was at most eighteen and her short body was a bountiful<br />
harvest.  As a southern adage usually interjected at any<br />
conversation regarding the weaker sex, made up instantly by such a<br />
southern gentleman with that funny drawl, &#8220;I&#8217;d reckon she&#8217;s shapely<br />
lahhhhhk a gip cow on moonshine.&#8221;  Whatever it meant, I wanted to<br />
say that she was contoured like the Alps from head to toe; her<br />
sunny hair was tied behind in a tail; she wore a sunny smile that<br />
said everything in the world and her blue eyes, or as the accent<br />
goes, &#8220;aaahhhs,&#8221; were adorable.  I wanted to eat her for breakfast,<br />
lunch, dinner, and then some.  Finally, I made up my mind.<br />
     I beckoned J&#8217;Belle over and asked for some more Coke.  As she<br />
was reaching for my glass, I pulled her close and said.  &#8220;Dear, I&#8217;m<br />
absolutely in love with you, you gorgeous little thing.  How about<br />
a kiss?&#8221;  I then patted her rump with a teasing pinch.  She blushed<br />
bright red, frozen for the moment, standing there not sure of what<br />
to say or do.  I was sure every sane guy passing this young minx<br />
passed off a pass like the one I made to this absolutely yummy dim<br />
sum, but I was sure never by a woman.  I sat there smiling my most<br />
sincere smile, licking my lips in anticipation.<br />
     Now, I&#8217;m no dyke.  But I do enjoy the company of little girls<br />
and genteel women.  As well, I&#8217;ve always wanted to say something<br />
like that in front of a total stranger.  And like I said, I was<br />
hornier than a toad in spring.  (Whatever that means.)  The heat<br />
does that to you.<br />
     J&#8217;Belle closed her eyes and turned her back with my cup and<br />
headed for the counter.  She told her mother my order and headed<br />
for the Women&#8217;s Bathroom(or the Water Closet as they say in<br />
England).  I smiled.  All the better!  I followed her into the<br />
Women&#8217;s.<br />
     As I entered the dirty little back-room, complete with the<br />
smell of Lysol and crust on the ceiling, J&#8217;Belle was leaning on the<br />
single white sink in the room.  She jumped when she saw me enter.<br />
Her eyes widened.  But she remained silent.  I walked slowly up to<br />
her so as not to scare her off and put my hands around her<br />
enviously slim waist.  Drawing her close, I smelled the fries she<br />
was making, but that scarcely discouraged my game.  I had to pull<br />
her up slightly, but I did manage to seal our lips with a soft,<br />
tender kiss.  Her first resistance melted away and was replaced a<br />
curious anticipation.  I was lost in J&#8217;Bell&#8217;s pair of lush, full<br />
lips.  They were so juicy and tasty.  I could have kissed her for<br />
hours!  I wanted to eat her whole, starting with those strawberry<br />
lips.  But I had other plans in mind.<br />
     J&#8217;Belle was lost in her own dream world as I said to her,<br />
&#8220;J&#8217;Belle dear, why don&#8217;t you take a seat in this nice stall over<br />
here.&#8221;<br />
     She nodded dumbly and sat.  I closed the stall door.  Though<br />
it was a tight fit, I could still manoeuvre around.  &#8220;Now, J&#8217;Belle.<br />
I want you to close your eyes and relax.  That&#8217;s right, dear.&#8221;<br />
     My hands flew over her body and ruffled through her frilly<br />
uniform, feeling her soft curves.  She was no Plainsman, rather,<br />
more a Rockies person.  Her cute floral underwear was what I was<br />
after.  I stripped it off carefully and was rewarded with a muffled<br />
gasp that she quickly silence with a swallow.  In a couple minutes,<br />
I had her hiccupping with pleasure.<br />
     I would like to believe that we both left the bathroom wiser<br />
and more content.  Actually, more like she became a bit more wiser<br />
and I, a bit more content.  But it amounted to the same thing, did<br />
it not?<br />
     I went back to my table and lit a cigarette, and puffed away<br />
like a whore after trick.  Wait.  That is the other way around, but<br />
you get the idea.  J&#8217;Belle came by and placed the Coke gently in<br />
front of me.  She had a Cheshire grin and her bright eyes twinkled<br />
merrily.  J&#8217;Belle even gave me a shy wink before she went back to<br />
frying her french fries.  I snuffed out my cigarette and enjoyed<br />
the euphoria of the significance of life, of meeting new people and<br />
sharing with them what little I possessed.  It is a really good<br />
feeling to know that you may have done some good for another<br />
person, and frankly, I had a blast.<br />
     I looked back outside as a light blue Chevy truck pulled up.<br />
Chris the Priss was here.  He came in with a courteous nod to the<br />
owners of Art&#8217;s Bugers and hurried over to me with an apologetic<br />
face.  &#8220;Sorry, Cel.  But I ran into an old friend getting here.  I<br />
mean, ran into him.  He wasn&#8217;t too happy but he&#8217;ll live.&#8221;  he said<br />
smiling weakly.<br />
     &#8220;No problem, Chris.  C&#8217;mon.  Let&#8217;s go see your big plantation<br />
house!&#8221;  I replied excitedly.<br />
     Going out the door, I heard J&#8217;Belle call out, &#8220;Now y&#8217;all come<br />
back soon, Miss.&#8221;<br />
     I turned and waved to her in the affirmative and returned her<br />
a coy wink.<br />
     Art&#8217;s Bugers may taste like shit, but Art&#8217;s daughter was the<br />
sweetest southern peach I&#8217;ve ever tasted.  I turned to Chris and<br />
said, &#8220;I don&#8217;t know about their burgers.&#8221;<br />
     He chuckled as we got into his truck.<br />
     &#8220;&#8230;but I would definitely come back for a wedge of their<br />
scrumptious Georgian Peach Pie.&#8221;</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>A Couple Invites Dianne</title>
		<link>http://adultxblogs.com/archives/a-couple-invites-dianne</link>
		<comments>http://adultxblogs.com/archives/a-couple-invites-dianne#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 29 Jul 2007 14:39:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[      I have been thinking  much about Dianne lately.  You see,  she is a very
beautiful single woman, very open sexually,  and very caring for others (it is
difficult for a man, and some women, to resist such a combination).  I met her
several months  ago &#8212; [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>      I have been thinking  much about Dianne lately.  You see,  she is a very<br />
beautiful single woman, very open sexually,  and very caring for others (it is<br />
difficult for a man, and some women, to resist such a combination).  I met her<br />
several months  ago &#8212; of  all places  &#8212; in the  waiting room of  my dentist,<br />
where  she shared  with me  her business  (which is  of no  relevance to  this<br />
story).   My wife,  Kristin, and  I  decided a  few  weeks later  to join  her<br />
business venture,  and because of this  association we have since  developed a<br />
very close friendship with Dianne.</p>
<p>      Kristin apparently  has also of late  been thinking a lot  about Dianne.<span id="more-65"></span><br />
The signs are obvious &#8212; daily phone  calls, visits to her apartment, her name<br />
being brought up in our conversation, etc.  Last week, Dianne and Kristin went<br />
backpacking by  themselves to the local  wilderness area while I  kept our two<br />
kids at home  (it is important for  my wife, a financial planner,  to get away<br />
from the daily grind and enjoy her friends apart from me)&#8230;.</p>
<p>      Last Friday, Dianne called me up and  wanted me to meet her for lunch at<br />
our favorite  restaurant.  After  a light  lunch with  some equally  light but<br />
strangely forced  conversation, Dianne looked  into my  eyes with a  look that<br />
I&#8217;ve never  seen before, a look  of fear combined  with a look of  desire, and<br />
asked, &#8220;Mark, it  is difficult for me to  say this, but I have  fallen in love<br />
with both you and Kristin.&#8221;</p>
<p>      I didn&#8217;t know how to respond to this.  On the one hand, my sexual desire<br />
for  her  was burning  bright,  and  I got  excited  about  what was  soon  to<br />
transpire,  yet  her simultaneous  love  for  my  wife confused,  scared,  and<br />
intrigued me.  What  could I say?  I  looked at her for a  moment, and without<br />
thinking I said, &#8220;Does Kristin know your  feelings for her?  As far as I know,<br />
Kristin is straight, and has never  in our relationship stated anything to the<br />
contrary.  All  I know is that  my desire for you  is very strong, and  that I<br />
have wanted for several weeks to make love to you.&#8221;</p>
<p>      &#8220;I know about your feelings for me,&#8221;  Dianne replied, &#8220;I could see it in<br />
your actions, in  your words, and in  your eyes.  And my feelings  for you are<br />
just as strong.  Kristin  knows about my love for her and for  you, and she is<br />
in love  with me as she  is in love with  you.  It was during  our backpacking<br />
trip that we expressed our love for one another.&#8221;</p>
<p>      I didn&#8217;t know what to think, I was really confused by my feelings.  &#8220;But<br />
why are you telling me this?  What do  you want from me if you and Kristin are<br />
lovers?&#8221; I asked.</p>
<p>      Dianne replied,  &#8220;Kristin wanted me to  tell you these things  if I felt<br />
from our conversation  that it would not damage your  marriage relationship &#8211;<br />
she wants me to  tell you that she still loves you deeply.   She has known for<br />
awhile  that you  were infatuated  with  me.  You  know, women  can see  these<br />
things.  I desire you  so much and I want to make love  to you.  Let&#8217;s go back<br />
to my apartment  and there we can  enjoy one another and talk  more about this<br />
crazy situation.&#8221;</p>
<p>      Making love  to Dianne  that afternoon was  heavenly.  Her  body, though<br />
short, was well proportioned, more like a 21 year old rather than her real age<br />
of 35.  Her breasts were not large, and not small, but were of the right size,<br />
firm and did not sag one bit &#8212;  taking her brassiere off, which was a low-cut<br />
front snap  design, was an  experience I&#8217;ll never  forget.  When I  cupped her<br />
breasts in my smallish hands, I wished  that I could become her brassiere so I<br />
could cup  her breasts all  day.  And Dianne was  sexually free, boy,  was she<br />
free.  She  was even more open  about her sexuality than  Kristin, and Kristin<br />
has always been a tiger in bed.</p>
<p>      What was  even more surprising to  me was that my  sexual excitement was<br />
greatest whenever I  fantasized my wife Kristin making love  to Dianne while I<br />
was watching.   In these  fantasies, Kristin and  Dianne totally  shared their<br />
bodies &#8212; there was  no inhibition of any kind.  The  number 69 appeared often<br />
in my  mind.  And I imagined  my throbbing, erect penis  being inside Dianne&#8217;s<br />
vagina from the rear, while Kristin, my beautiful wife, was in front massaging<br />
Dianne&#8217;s clitoris  and sucking on her  breasts, and that Dianne  was massaging<br />
Kristin&#8217;s swollen clitoris.  And I imagined that  we all came to orgasm at the<br />
same time this way.  What a fantasy!</p>
<p>      After one hour  of sheer erotic sex  (I have never made love  to a woman<br />
who could  have several  strong orgasms in  a row like  Dianne could),  we lay<br />
together exhausted.   I asked  Dianne, &#8220;When  did you  and Kristin  first make<br />
love?&#8221;</p>
<p>      She said, &#8220;During our backpacking trip.   It was cold, and we were close<br />
to each  other in our sleeping  bags.  And we  just talked, and slowly  we got<br />
closer, more  intimate, touched each  other more,  and finally we  were making<br />
love.  Kristin said to me afterwards that that was the first time she ever had<br />
sex  with  a woman.   She  never  consciously  realized  before that  she  was<br />
bisexual, although she said that she recalled having strong feelings for other<br />
women  before.  Her  greatest fear  was that  you would  reject her  for being<br />
bisexual and for making love to me.&#8221;</p>
<p>      I said,  &#8220;If she made  love to a  man, I would  have been jealous  and a<br />
little angry &#8212; I&#8217;m sounding a little  hypocritical here &#8212; but the thought of<br />
her making love to another woman, especially you, excites me, and I don&#8217;t know<br />
why.  Maybe  most men would be  turned off and  very angry if they  were faced<br />
with  this situation,  but I&#8217;m  not.  I  really would  like to  watch you  and<br />
Kristin make love and  I want to share in your lovemaking,  for I want Kristin<br />
to be happy and I know that you and  I can sexually fulfill her in ways that I<br />
cannot alone.&#8221;  Dianne smiled, hugged me, gave  me a dreamy kiss, and said, &#8220;I<br />
would like that.  I  love you.  And tell Kristin when you see  her that I love<br />
her, too.&#8221;</p>
<p>      When I came home in the evening,  it was, suffice to say, a very unusual<br />
conversation.  I told  Kristin that I was with Dianne  that afternoon, that we<br />
made love, that I knew about Kristin&#8217;s  love affair with Dianne, that I am not<br />
angry or jealous, that I loved both of you, and that I would like all three of<br />
us to make love to one another.  Kristin was quite taken aback by what I said,<br />
but she quickly recovered  with a look of anticipation and  desire that I have<br />
never seen  in her  before.  Kristin  then said,  &#8220;Let&#8217;s send  the kids  to my<br />
mother&#8217;s for the  weekend, I&#8217;ll think of  a good excuse, and  invite Dianne to<br />
stay with us.&#8221;  I agreed to this, we called Dianne, she  readily agreed and we<br />
were all  excited.  Needless to  say Kristin and  I made passionate  love that<br />
evening and we later talked very openly about the different ways we could make<br />
love together with Dianne.</p>
<p>      &#8230;.Watching two passionate women, who love each other, mutually gratify<br />
their sexual  desires is something  that every man should  see &#8212; and  I&#8217;m not<br />
talking about those  loveless scenes one sees in most  X-rated films.  Men can<br />
learn an  awful lot about  how to  please a woman  sexually by watching  how a<br />
woman does it to another woman.  After  all, who knows more about a woman than<br />
another woman?&#8230;</p>
<p>      Kristin and  Dianne were obviously  very much  in love with  each other.<br />
You could  feel the passionate  heat they  generated even before  they touched<br />
each other.  They  made me sit in a  chair while I watched them  in bed.  They<br />
each wore  a negligee, and I  could see the  outlines of their breasts  and of<br />
their black triangle  of hair where female sexuality  resides.  They obviously<br />
loved the way they were dressed, since they looked at each other just as I was<br />
looking at them.  They started with  slow kisses, which became more passionate<br />
as time went on &#8212; it seemed like an eternity.  Their hands, which started out<br />
being fixed on  each others back, became  more and more mobile.   There was no<br />
part of  their bodies that their  hands did not touch.   Kristin, my beautiful<br />
wife, was gasping at every caress  given by Dianne.  Dianne, being very turned<br />
on by now,  loosened Kristin&#8217;s negligee and took it  off, gloriously revealing<br />
Kristin&#8217;s body to  both of us.  &#8220;Your breasts are  so beautiful,&#8221; Dianne said,<br />
&#8220;please let  me kiss them.&#8221;  Kristin pulled Dianne&#8217;s  head to her  breasts and<br />
moaned &#8220;more&#8221; as Dianne eagerly yet tenderly licked them.</p>
<p>      Dianne then broke the kisses, got on her back, and told Kristin, who was<br />
sitting  upright on  her  knees, to  move  forward until  her  vulva was  near<br />
Dianne&#8217;s mouth, as  she has done for me several  times.  Dianne eagerly thrust<br />
out her tongue  to Kristin&#8217;s moist clitoris, and licked  and kissed and sucked<br />
it in a way I&#8217;ve never done  for Kristin before.  You could see Kristin&#8217;s body<br />
slowly swaying, like  a pendulum, which started to speed  up as Dianne speeded<br />
up her tongue motion.  Then, in a  frantic way that I have never heard Kristin<br />
say, she said,  &#8220;Please&#8230; more.&#8221;  At that moment, Dianne  inserted one finger<br />
into Kristin&#8217;s vagina and another finger from the other hand into her anus and<br />
began to earnestly  and rhythmically bring her down the  home stretch with her<br />
tongue and lips and fingers.  Kristin exploded into a orgasm that I have never<br />
seen in any woman before, even Dianne  on Friday.  She gasped and fell limp on<br />
the bed, exhausted, and content.  I was in awe.</p>
<p>      As  Dianne  was  slowly  caressing  Kristin during  her  short  time  of<br />
recovery, my passion arose to a height  I&#8217;ve never felt before.  I walked over<br />
to  the bed,  took my  clothes off  (so  I could  relieve the  pressure of  my<br />
super-erect penis) and got on the bed  next to Dianne and started to kiss her.<br />
I helped  Dianne take off her  negligee, revealing her beautiful  breasts with<br />
very hard  and erect nipples;  I could feel the  animal heat emanate  from her<br />
vagina, begging  for satisfaction.  She then  took hold of my  very hard penis<br />
and began  to rub it firmly,  and then went down  on me and began  to lick and<br />
suck it.  I could feel the moistness around her mouth, no doubt from Kristin&#8217;s<br />
vaginal juices.   Dianne then completely inserted  my penis into her  mouth as<br />
far as it could  go and really began to suck.  It  was a beautiful experience.<br />
As I approached an explosive orgasm, but before it was too late, she let go of<br />
my  penis,  leaned back  on  the  bed,  with  her beautiful  breasts  pointing<br />
majestically upward, and begged Kristin to come down on her.</p>
<p>      Kristin, whose  passion was  beginning to  come back  again, got  on her<br />
hands and knees and began to lick Dianne&#8217;s clitoris with her tongue.  Kristin,<br />
being  very   flexible,  had  no   trouble  with  this   position.   Kristin&#8217;s<br />
super-swollen  vulva  revealed itself  to  me  in  all  its splendor  in  this<br />
position, which I  could not resist; I entered Kristin  from the rear, reached<br />
around her  to massage her swollen  and moist clitoris and  her erect nipples.<br />
When I  did this, my wife  began to moan,  and increased her tempo  on Dianne.<br />
Dianne  began to  moan wildly,  too, and  Kristin reached  up to  cup Dianne&#8217;s<br />
breast and  knead them  vigorously.  For  one minute  this went  on, and  as I<br />
approached ejaculation, Kristin  sensed that, quickened the  pace, and brought<br />
Dianne closer to ecstasy.   We all reached climax at about  the same time.  My<br />
orgasm was the  most intense I have  ever experienced.  I felt as  if I filled<br />
Kristin up to the brim.</p>
<p>      This did  not end here.  Kristin  continued her oral caress  on Dianne&#8217;s<br />
clitoris in  the most loving, tender,  and yet vigorous manner,  and from this<br />
very delicious stimulus, Dianne had four more orgasms in the next few minutes;<br />
each orgasm was  more intense than the  previous one.  Her last  orgasm was so<br />
intense and  obviously so pleasurable  that Kristin  broke down and  cried for<br />
Dianne in happiness.  We all then fell into a long and dreamy sleep, snuggling<br />
close together, to recharge for another  round several hours later (I&#8217;ll spare<br />
you the details of our subsequent lovemaking, except that it was even better).</p>
<p>      Many  would say  that nothing  good could  ever result  from a  bisexual<br />
menage a trois such as ours; however, Kristin&#8217;s and my love for each other was<br />
enhanced by  this experience  (which, by  the way,  never happened  again with<br />
Dianne, for  reasons that will  remain unsaid to  the outside world).   I also<br />
learned how to  become a better lover  to Kristin, since my  teachers were two<br />
beautiful women who passionately loved  one another and understood one another<br />
in ways that men can never fathom.</p>
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