” “What about alternate Tuesdays?” she grinned, pushing open the door. I followed her in and pushed it closed behind me. “As long as it’s me... hell, let’s go for every Tuesday – oomph!” I grunted as she threw herself against me. My back slammed into the door with a bang that must have woken the neighbors. Our teeth cracked together as her mouth slammed into mine. I actually tasted the slight saltiness of blood as our tongues met but I couldn’t tell if it was hers or mine. It didn’t matter, I. “The one she’s going to wear to the dance,” I added, just so there wasn’t any confusion.“I don’t think she knows, yet,” said Mrs. Carter. “She’s been trying on dresses all afternoon.”“How many dresses does she have?” I asked, surprised. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Valerie Carter in a dress. Then I remembered a wedding we both went to when we were ten or eleven. She wore a dress then. And she’d worn a skirt one time to another dance.“More than the average tomboy,” said Mrs. Carter, smiling. “You. She looked into some kind of high tech gadget that suddenly flared with red light. "This is funny," the mean voice said. "The great heroine Firefly wakes up without her mask, covered in piss and fucked without any memory of this happening. It is unfortunate that I don't have a camera."Sarah felt his finger fumble after a grip to pull off her Firefly mask. This prompted her to start to act, her G.S.P. gear had protected her from the memory eraser. She hit out in the direction of the invisible. They were ignoring her as usual as they playfully picked and poked at each other.. She watched them for a few moments noticing that her son, Atul, who was eighteen now had turned into quite a good looking young man even if she had to say so herself. Kusum, his wife was comparably pretty, just beginning to blossom into a comely young lass. Kusum did a good job of filling out her blouse, Mala thought, but the girl was not in the same league as Mala. Glancing down at her own body, comparing it.
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