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Monday, June 18, 2012

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A Quick One, about a young man with tight jeans out of Melissa, on arrival at the hotel. It defies safety, talk to the pool. He asks her a picture of his butt in his tight jeans, but what, if anything, they'll send it over the phone? If you like this, give me feedback. Comments can the public comment section below, PM On the forum, or e-mail is. If you want a response to the feedback is then e-mail is the best. I try to correct errors, but I can not evidence of the screen, there is probably some residual. If this is the case, I apologize. I hope you enjoy the piece anyway. GA - Cancun, Mexico - June 13, 2012. * Melissa saw the shadows fall across the page, and if it failed to pass, they looked. He stood with his halo in a blaze of the solar corona, his face was hidden. He said nothing, but its contours told him he was a young man - standing, with broad shoulders and narrow waist, tight and compact. "Yes? Can I help you?" She said. "I saw you out of the taxi when you arrived," he replied, his face still a shadow. "I was at the front of the hotel." He added nothing said, and Melissa "? Stay here " "Probably not," he returned. "No, the price they are likely to be calculated. How much for a week? "Five thousand U.S., but that is all inclusive." He nodded. "Yeah, way out of my budget, all inclusive or not." He stopped and looked around. "You must be rich." "I'm OK ... but if you do not want to stay here, how you came here, how are you? They are usually pretty hot on security. And what do you simply by walking up to me and told me that you saw me with it? It's pretty weird. Quick stalkerish. "I just used the pool." She looked at him shrug his shoulders. "Sometimes they'll stop me, sometimes not. It depends on who is on duty. And I'm here to talk because I thought you looked pretty sensational in jeans ... when you arrive ... if you had the taxi. " "How old are you?" Melissa said. "Twenty-one ..." Melissa sighed and leaned his book on the bedside table to another. "Have you any idea how old I am?" She asked, lighting a cigarette. She saw him shrug again. "Forty?" "A good guess," said Melissa. "And to be on the low side ..." She pulled up in smoke before blowing a murmur of the stream of gray smoke through pursed lips in the blue sky. "You are English? You seem from your accent." "Yeah." "In doing so, what is a young Englishman in Mexico to meet old ladies?" Melissa sucked on the cigarette again. "I inherited a house. I sold it and bought a plane ticket. Here I am. ' "So simple, does not it? "It's easy. I have some money in the bank and if I can live cheaply. OK for a few years. Why are you here? ' "Could you sit down or something?" Melissa said. "You're standing there, threatening, and I can not see your face. And I can not decide if it meets a crazy stalker or a boy are stupid on me. " He moved and sat under a tent next to his bed unoccupied Melissa. She saw a handsome young man with shaggy blond hair and stubble on his chin. He smiled, with good teeth. "Better?" He asked. "I can tell you, I'm not a stalker crazy ..." He smiled. "So it makes me a dull boy." "I'm just here on vacation," said Melissa. "Alone?" "Only. " "The man at home? ' Mellissa tutted and shook his head. "God, no, I did long ago smash. You in me? " "I think so." There was a pause. "I could not take my eyes off you, when I saw you." He shook his head and uttered a low whistle of appreciation. "... These jeans and red shoes ... How do you walk in them? His eyes were glazed, as he remembered clearly the image of Melissa's arrival at the station in his mind." And how does we get into jeans? They were so close ... I must say ... you have a fantastic ass. " Melissa snorted a laugh, drawing on the cigarette again, as if the young man sitting opposite her, let your elbows on his knees, his hands looked. "They hide nothing, does not it?" She smiled. "If you hit old enough to be a woman ... Now, much older than you." The smile moved to a smile. "And I know, my ass looks good in these jeans, so I wear 'em' . "This is how you move it," said the boy. "This is the shoe that is Darlin '. This ol 'high heels make me sway back and forth on the ass ... the guys seem so. "Melissa, behind his sunglasses and looked hard to swallow this guy. "Could I ..." he began, his voice croaking. He cleared his throat. "If I could," he said, and paused again. "What? Could you what? " "Could I have a picture of you ... in your jeans ... from behind ...? ' Melissa looked at the young man for a long time. She smoked, his expression inscrutable, his face masked by the sounds. "You have a cell phone?" She asked. "A what?" "A cell phone ..." He nodded. "A cell phone? Yes, I have one." Give me your number, "she said." I can feel to be generous and later send you a picture of the cell. "Melissa smiled again." If I'm feeling generous, she added. The young man looked puzzled, as he patted the pockets of his faded shorts. "Uh ..." He murmured. Guess his dilemma, Melissa earth lacrosse in the ashtray and got the tanning bed. "I get a napkin and a pen tablet." She stooped under the periphery of the umbrella. "No," on my ass, she called over her shoulder. He saw her buttocks jiggle in the shortest of short bikini bottoms. "Note the number," she said after his return and gave him things. "Are you my ass? You have not? She saw my ass all the way there, eh?" He nodded. "Well, I could give you a little about the phone ... Neither do I. You just have to wait and see." Two hours later, he lay on his bed and looked at the fan, and thought of the woman. "They will not send anything. You are an idiot to think they would. It's just a rich old bitch a chance to tease you seen ..." He smiled against his will. "But she has a nice ass on her ..." His phone, so far remained silent over the previous three months, let this series of notes of the pipe. He turned and looked at the instrument lying across the room in the middle of the messy pile of clothes. "Bloody hell," he said. Sex Shop