That third date was midday on her day off …a few days later…and she allowed us to meet in Maryland….I ***********ed a hotel with discrete parkin... and no lobby to walk across…. I fixed a picnic lunch and brought it to the hotel…As it happened it went untouched. She arrived about 15 minutes late but looked spectacular in a rag wool sweater, tight black jeans and boots……She walked straight past me to the bathroom…and came out wearing only a men’s shirt…and a wicked grin…She lounged on the bed. The weekend was crazy, full of partying and drinking and the last thing on my mind is to go to work. That would explain why I'm late catching my bus and have to walk. I'm used to walking to work by now; it has become a Monday morning ritual. I don't deal well with lack of sleep and early mornings. My walk always takes the same route: walk down the street for 10 minutes, turn left, walk down another one for 20 minutes, cut through the industrial district to save a 15 minute detour and then. My dress wetted all over with tears. My eyes bloated like I had received the cruelest of beating. In an agonized voice that moved a watching nine-year-old girl into instantaneous tears, I called out for God’s intervention against the many sins corrupting this world, shuddering from head to toe, and having great difficulties in breathing. The tearful girl, thinking I was giving up my ghost, ran outside to seek immediate aid.I bought clothes of all fads day after day and stashed them in flush. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream as she felt like her eyes were opened impossibly wider than they had ever been opened before, and try as she might she couldn't make her self close them. Her hands clenched while they were closed to her shoulders and they almost drew blood they were so tight.Suddenly an over powering urge, almost like a mini orgasm that ran the course of her body, hit her and she gasped out so loudly that it sounded like a moan even to her ears. She literally felt like.
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