Ian is a friend who is a practicing bondage “master”. He administers to a stable of male and female subs and he is quite serious about the whole master/sub relationship. I am not really into that sort of thing, so when we are together, I kid him incessantly about his desire to be called master. I ask him what kind of true master needs to be reminded of it every few minutes.
For refusing to call him master, he “punishes” me by tying me into impossible positions. He is very good having an inventive mind that makes my bondage encounters with him great adventures. And although I am gay, our relationship includes sex. I find that when I am tied up, sexual preferences go out the window. I want to get off in any way I can.
Anyway…on this particular day, I had made a date with Ian for some bondage play. It had been several weeks since I had seen him and even longer since I had been really tied up. I was in real need of relief and I was looking forward to our time together.
He concocted a scheme that would have me come to him dressed in a costume, bringing the materials of my confinement with me. I was not entirely in favor of this approach, as you can well understand. Ian’s imagination is quite fertile and I could see me in a nun’s habit or a hooter girl suit or something parading down city streets. We settled on a schoolgirl outfit after much haggling and downright pleading and whining on my part. It was a good compromise in that it played to my sock fetish and to his stunted adolescent fantasies of Catholic schoolgirls that he was apparently unable to satisfy during his youth.
As it happens, I am reformed Catholic schoolgirl in actual fact having attended the Presentation of Mary Academy for 12 long years. I didn’t still have my original high school stuff. I burned it the day of graduation in a ceremony attended by most of the senior class, but I understood what he was looking for.
The deal was to take place on the following Saturday, which gave me time to locate the things I needed including a pleated skirt and a book bag. The rest of the outfit I could pull together from my own clothes.
I found the skirt on-line and had it shipped overnight. I spent some time observing high school girls on the subway and discovered the type of bag that was in that year. I was able to pick one up locally.
The night before the event, I did a dress rehearsal at home. Long white socks pulled up over my knees, short, and I mean very short, blue, green and black plaid skirt, white blouse with a round collar finished off with black tie loosely strung around my neck, lace up oxford black heels and black horned rim glasses. The bag I stuffed with coils of rope and gags and things to be used to restrain me as well as some sweats to change into. The deal was that some bondage equipment had to be sticking out of the bag and plainly visible to passersby. Ian is a sick person! I gathered my hair into two short ponytails on either side of my head. My gray hair (and the 30 odd years of wrinkles visible on my face) was the only thing that distinguished me from a true teenager. Yeah, right!
Gray hair aside, I looked kind of slutty, but that was the point and I was eager to get on with it.
The next day at the appointed time I set out to walk the 20 blocks to my friend’s apartment. That was also part of the deal. He wanted me to be seen in my get-up! I decided to take the stairs down to the ground floor in my building to avoid running into a neighbor. I figured I could face strangers in this outfit, but neighbors would be a little too much!
Once on the street, I slung the bag over my shoulder and set out at a brisk pace. It was a cool morning and not many people were out yet for which I was thankful. I wore a long unbuttoned white woolen cardigan sweater over the top and it swung open with the breeze as I walked. It was my old cheerleader letter sweater, the only remaining clothing from my high school days!
The skirt was very short and not quite covered by the sweater. I had visions of my butt hanging out or a gust of wind lifting the skirt to reveal the white cotton panties my friend insisted I wear. All went well for several blocks and the few people out and about didn’t seem to notice my attire. I have to say I was alittle disappointed!
Then I rounded the corner onto his street. There in front of me in the center green of the street was a group of people decked out in running gear. There were about 8 or 10 people stretching and milling about.
Not a problem in itself, but as I approached them, I recognized one of them as being from my running group. I couldn’t detour down a side street since I was between blocks; I couldn’t turn and go back the way I had come. That would be too obvious a dodge. I just had to play it out. And hope for the best. Any chance of slipping by them evaporated when the person I knew, Wendy, called out to me.
“Anne? Is that you?” She called it out loudly and, of course, everyone turned to look. With my face burning red, I forced a smile and turned to face her.
“Yeah, it’s me, Wendy.” Trying to direct the conversation, I said, “Where are you running to today?” No luck!
Wendy said, “Why are you dressed like that?” Now everyone was looking!
I looked down like I was surprised that anyone noticed. “Oh, this? Ha ha! It’s a bet with a friend!”
Wendy says, “A bet?” I was thinking shut up you bitch, but said, “Yeah, he said I couldn’t fit into my old school uniform, so I’m going to show him that I do.”
“What school let you wear a skirt that short?” What a bitch! She circled me, inspecting me closely.
“I was shorter in high school!”
She returned to face me. “Why do you have that rope in the bag?”
Oh my God, will this never end!
“Ah…he needed some clothes line that I had around the apartment.” I was glad that I didn’t have the ball gag showing like I was going to do at first.
Wendy scrunched up her mouth and said, “Hmmm!” staring at me in an odd way.
The others had thankfully gone back to their stretching. One of them called to Wendy, “Hey Wen! Let’s get going!”
Wendy gave me a final look and said, “Well, have fun, Anne, don’t get too tied up in that bet thing!” She turned back to her group, looking at me over her shoulder.
Don’t get too tied up! What the hell did she mean by that?
Finally having extricated myself from Wendy and her friends, I set off at a quicker pace to Ian’s. Although I was a little shaken by my encounter with her, I was also aroused. I am well aware that there is an exhibitionist streak in me. I had posted pictures of myself in bondage on various sites on the ‘net and knowing that people had seen me in bondage had always turned me on. Apparently, dressing in fetish-y clothing in public had the same effect on me. And apparently that was what Ian had in mind.
Ian lives in a townhouse on one of the fashionable streets in the city. It is a shotgun style three-story brick structure that was built back in the 1880s. The house comes under the restrictions of the historical district regulations regarding what the outside must look like, but inside, he can do what he wants. The first two floors of his apartment are elegantly remodeled and decorated. He lives and entertains on those floors. The third floor is more of an attic with exposed framing and brick walls with a rougher look to it. This floor is his studio and play space. Skylights flood the area with light. This floor has access to the roof. There is a screened and private area on the roof, which overlooks the river and esplanade to the north. All in all, very nice and pricey digs!
Ian met me at the door and I could tell that he was pleased. He is 40-ish, tall and thin with a full head of blond hair and a patrician cast to his face that reminds me of pilgrims and the Mayflower, which apparently his family had actually sailed over to this country on. He is wealthy from family money and from his interests in real estate ventures.
He looked me up and down and broke into a big smile.
“Perfect, Annie, perfect!”
I poked him in the ribs, “Don’t call me Annie, you dork! And let me in, please!”
I dropped my book bag on the floor and told him about bumping into Wendy, leaving out the part about how it had affected me.
He wrinkled his brow a bit. “Wendy? Wendy Persons? Tall, short hair, pretty well built, verrry attractive?”
I poked him again “Yeah! That’s her! We run together occasionally.”
“I know her! She’s a player, too! Did you know that?”
I didn’t know that, but it would explain her crack about getting tied up. I would have to pay more attention to Wendy the next time we ran!
Ian picked up my bag and noticed the rope hanging out. “Very good, Anne! Did Wendy see this?” He pulled the coil of rope out of the bag.
“Oh yeah! She had some remark about it. I told her my friend needed some clothesline!”
He smiled “I’m surprised she hasn’t come on to you yet. She’s a huge bondage freak! And she’s one of the original founders of the gay and lesbian foundation in the city. I bet you’ll be hearing from Wendy!”
I reddened slightly and shivered involuntarily thinking of the powerful Wendy taking charge of me and putting me into bondage. I had been drawn to Wendy’s physical power during our infrequent runs together, but this news moved her to the top of the list as a possible “close” friend. That thought amped up my already throbbing desire to be tied.
“C’mon, Ian, lets get to work!”
“Work? Since when is this work?” He laughed, but, in an instance, his demeanor changed from affable friend and host to something more sinister.
He grabbed a pigtail and spun me around, forcing me face first against the wall of the entry while shaking out the rope from its coil.
“Wha…what are you doing, Mr. Raines?” Instantly, I was transported into a fantasy world.
“What am I doing, Ms. Woolsey? I am tying your wrists together, that’s what!” he growled. He yanked my arms behind me and tied my wrists palm to palm. I feigned surprise and did not struggle. There would be plenty of time for struggling later!
“But why, Mr. Raines?” I whined. I am good at whining and I knew from experience that it really annoyed him.
He spun me back around so that I was facing him.
The look on his face was entirely different than a moment before. It was what I loved about him. He was a great role-player and looking at him, I slipped deeper into the world of captive schoolgirl. I was that girl!
“Why? I think you know why, Anne, but I will tell you again! You were told not to get involved with Wendy, weren’t you?” I did not reply startled by his drawing of what we were just talking casually about seconds before into this moment.
He slapped me, not hard, but hard enough to draw tears to my eyes. I am not a big pain freak, but in these circumstances, a little physical abuse works well for me. “Mr. Raines, please don’t hurt me!”
“I will do as I please with you, do you understand? You apparently did not understand my directive to stay away from Miss Persons!”
“But…but I haven’t been with Wen…Miss Persons at all. I just saw her on the street, that’s all! Really Mr. Raines, really!” I said this in a whiny voice that I could see set his teeth on edge.
“I have heard all I want from you, Anne! You’re lying and you are doing it as bold as brass! I believe that you need some re-education as to how the young ladies of this school should behave!” He scooped the bag off the foyer floor and pulled out the ball gag, dropping the bag back on the floor.
“Open your mouth, Ms. Woolsey!”
“Mr. Raines! Please don’t do this. I am telling the truth. Please do…!” He forced the ball against my partially open mouth, shutting off speech. I put up a token struggle and then relented. I experienced a surge in arousal as the ball was seated in my mouth. I love to be gagged! He rewarded me by tightening the broad leather straps fiercely, pulling the ball deep into my mouth. I worked my jaws to adjust to the intrusion of the hard rubber.
Now wrist bound and gagged, I knew the really fun part was beginning.
He retrieved the bag and slung it over his shoulder. Grasping me by the upper arm, he led me to the stairs. “Get moving, Ms. Woolsey! You know where to go!” Leading me, my arm still held in his hand, he started to pull me up the stairs.
I hung back and he tightened his grip and pulled harder. We struggled up the stairs, me making muffled protest behind the tight gag, and him cursing and pulling. It was hard work and we were both sweaty and breathing hard when we reached the third floor. My heart was pounding both from exertion and from anticipation. I had spent many hours in tight bondage here and I was looking forward to another episode.
He shoved me across the room. I stumbled over the carpet and fell hard onto the floor. The breath whooshed out of me and before I could regain my breath, Ian was flipping me onto my stomach! Ian is strong and out weighs me by 50 pounds so he could handle me like a rag doll. He produced another rope and pulled my elbows together in a tight tie. I am quite flexible and proud being able to have the inside of my elbows touch behind my back. It is very arousing to me, creating a feeling of real helplessness. That is one of my favorite things and Ian knows it. He cinched off the elbow rope and turned his attention to my ankles.
Ian is not gentle in his administering of bondage and today was no exception. He held my ankles together and tightly wound several turns of rope around them. A quick slip of the rope between my ankles and they were also cinched. He bent my legs at the knee and pulling hard on the tag end of the cinch rope, dragged my ankles back and down towards my butt. The cinch rope was tied to my elbow ropes and I was rendered helpless in typical, efficient Ian style. When he was finished pulling, my heels were cupped in my hands and I could feel the strain in my thigh muscles.
We had not discussed at all what Ian would do to me, but I was assured that at least one hogtie would be part of my treatment. I was not disappointed as I grunted and struggled around on the floor! The hogtie was one of my favorite ways to be tied and Ian did it as well as anyone. He usually used more rope and made it very tight, but this time it was just to hold me while he decided what else to do. It was still a wonderfully tight tie and I worked hard against the rope, driving my excitement to higher levels. As a final touch, he wound my school tie tightly around my eyes, shutting off sight. I could hear him moving stuff and making noise, but I was in another world and paid little attention.
I don’t know how much time passed before I felt Ian’s touch again. I was in that space that a really good bondage situation always puts me.
He released the ankle-to-elbow rope and pulled the ropes off my ankles. I was moved to a sitting position, my wrists and elbows still bound. He removed the blindfold.
“Alright now, Anne! Let’s continue with your lesson, shall we?”
I quickly looked around the room, blinking my eyes in the bright light. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary and wondered, with a delicious shudder, what he had in mind for me.
“Look at me, Ms. Woolsey!” He spoke sharply. I jerked my eyes back and looked at him, trying to keep a scared wide-eyed look on my face.
“You have let Wendy Persons have her way with you! Don’t deny it! I know it to be true!”
I lowered my eyes.
He gripped my face and tilted it up. “I said look at me! Ms. Persons has some skills, but she is not in the same league as I am. I believe that you must be taught what is true bondage so that you can differentiate between it and the undisciplined attempts of a novice! Do you understand?”
I hesitated for a moment and then dipped my head once in acknowledgement of what he had said. Even I was beginning to think that Wendy had actually tied me up! A fleeting thought whisked through my head that I would have to get in touch with Wendy. Ian brought me back to the present with a hard squeeze of my jaw. “Pay attention, you little slut! Don’t be thinking of Ms. Persons!” I blushed as he smirked at me. How did he know that?
He untied my elbows and wrists. He unbuckled the gag and pried out of my already sore jaws.
“Take off your clothes, Ms. Woolsey!”
“But…but Mr. Raines? Why?”
A harder slap caught me unawares and staggered me. A shot of fear and…anger ran through me. I recovered my balance and stood defiantly before him. “Fuck you, Mr. Raines! I’m not taking off anything for you!”
He looked down at the floor and shook his head. When he looked up again his face held a sad expression. “I was hoping you would cooperate, Ms. Woolsey, but I see that you are again letting your stubborn ways come to the fore. That is unfortunate for you!” He reached out and tore the buttons from my shirt as he yanked it apart.
“Jesus, watch it, you asshole!” I screamed.
He pulled the shirt down over my shoulders, pinning my arms to my side. A sharp tug yanked my bra free and he jerked it down around my waist. I struggled to free my arms before he could do more damage, but he moved in quickly, turned me and pinned my arms in a bear hug. With one arm he was able to hold me, although I was making enough headway in getting out of his grip to make him swear under his breath. With his free hand he undid the buttons of my skirt and sent it to the floor, pooled around my ankles. I was definitely losing the fight and my clothing on top of it. A series of hard pulls tore my cotton panties free. I yelled in pain as the elastic bands around my legs cut into my skin before giving way. Still in his grip, but wriggling free, I managed to break his hold around my waist, but only for a second. I tripped on the skirt around my ankles and fell back into his grip. He stepped aside and controlled my descent to the floor, quickly sitting on my back. The pressure of his weight was uncomfortable. I fought for breath. He wadded up my panties, which he had somehow held onto during our struggles and forced the cloth into my mouth. He did it roughly and I started to gag. He used the tie that had served as my blindfold to hold the panties in place in my mouth. Several turns and a tight knot secured the disgusting gag in place. I could taste myself on the gag and felt my arousal kick up a notch in response. There is nothing like being humiliated and losing a spirited fight against a stronger opponent to get my blood flowing.
Gagged again, I was slowly losing control, if I ever had it, of the situation. Soon I was clad only in my socks.
Ian bent my arms at the elbows so that my wrists were pointed up towards my head and stretched almost to between my shoulder blades; he bound my hands, wrists crossed. He then hiked them up further behind me with a rope that passed in front of my throat. I coughed in panic as the rope cut into my windpipe. That had the immediate effect of reducing my struggles to a bare minimum. He flipped me onto my back, which further tightened the neck rope, while he pushed a rope between my legs. He brought me back to a sitting position, me coughing and struggling for breath, and pulled the rope hard into my crotch. He provided some relief by attaching an end of the crotch rope to the throat rope and pulling it down towards my crotch. That relieved the pressure on my neck, but pulled my arms further up behind me and buried the rope deeper into my sex. My wrist, crotch and neck ropes were all joined together in a tight unit.
Then he went to work on my legs, forcing them into a lotus position and binding them securely with loops that he cinched. The remaining ends of the ropes he wrapped around my waist and pulled tight. This had the effect of compressing my waist and pulling me into a straighter posture. All of that just tightened all the ropes more.
Finally he was done. I sat at his feet tied in a lotus position with my arms pulled into the middle of my back. It was very tight and uncomfortable. I glared at him.
“Now, Ms. Woolsey,” he began, “you are in a position that allows me access to all parts of your body. You are helpless to stop me from touching you or doing whatever I desire to you. I must say you fought well, but, of course, there was no way you could avoid this!” He smiled. I swore at him through my panty gag. He laughed out loud.
To emphasize what he had said, he knelt and ran his fingers over the distended lips of my sex. I whimpered at his touch, closing my eyes to the welcome pressure on it. He laughed again and stood up. I groaned and squirmed trying to replicate the pressure his hand had created, but to no avail.
“I have some work that must be completed that will occupy me for about 30 minutes. Obviously, I can’t let you go, as you do have to learn the lesson. I think that I will need something to hold your attention on your helplessness, Ms. Woolsey.”
Thirty minutes! Fuck! I won’t be able to stay like this that long! I watched as he rummaged through a box on the table across the room. He found what he wanted and returned to me with the largest vibrator I had ever seen. It was a plug in kind with a large head. He looked me in the eyes with a little smile on his lips. “This has a timer attached that is a minute timer of infinite variation. It can be programmed any way I want. This should do nicely!”
I watched as he rigged the vibrator to my ankle bonds and pressed the head against my sex. He tied some twine from the head of the vibrator to the crotch rope and after some adjustments, he appeared to be satisfied. Me? I was just plain excited. We had done a variation of this before and I had come in clusters until I was almost comatose. I was hoping for the same result this time.
He plugged the machine into the wall and fiddled with a little box that I assumed was the timer. The vibrator sparked to life and sent a jolt through me that took my breath away. He noticed my reaction and knew he had placed the vibrator in the proper spot. He stepped over to me and snapped a foam-padded blindfold over my eyes, shutting out all light. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Enjoy, Annie!” I didn’t bother to try and correct him about my name because at that moment the vibrator kicked on and twisted my insides around.
The bastard had rigged the vibrator to go on and off at intermittent intervals. None of the on cycles were enough to get me off and during the off cycles I couldn’t move enough to get any relief. By the time Ian returned I was very frustrated and pissed off.
If he was concerned about that he didn’t exhibit it. He knelt next to me as I gag talked my displeasure, removed the vibrator to my muffled protests and began to untie the ropes that held my hands up in the middle of my back. That involved him fiddling with the crotch rope and I tried to get his attention to my plight, but was ignored. He retied the crotch rope by looping it around my waist and making it a little tighter. That brought some stimulus to that needy area, but not enough! He tied my wrists and elbows behind my back, pulling my elbows close again. He was quiet while he did this, working efficiently and quickly. He moved to my side and pushed/pulled me over onto my stomach. The crotch rope rode in on me a bit and felt pretty good! Ian busied himself connecting my elbow ropes to my crossed ankles. Pretty soon he had me pulled into a tight bow with my legs still crossed and spread. He surprised me then by picking me up by the ropes connecting my elbows and ankles and carrying me over to the wall. I am no lightweight, weighing in around 140 pounds, but Ian handled me like a bag of groceries. His ability to move me around like a suitcase really got into my head. I was fully aware how helpless I was and it fueled my excitement. This was the best thing we had done yet!
He placed me on the floor with my head towards the center of the room and my knees against the wall. Then he lifted my torso off the floor and tilted me back against the wall. The top of my shoulders contacted the wall and all my weight was on my knees. I was leaning at a slight angle to the wall with my legs probably a foot or so from the base of the wall. The room was carpeted so there was some cushioning, but I could feel the pressure on my knees. How long I could stay like this was hard to say. All the rope that connected my legs and arms held me in a tight bow even though I was upright.
Ian knelt before me and inserted a bullet shaped vibrator under and through the crotch rope. He sat back on his heels and spoke for the first time in several minutes. “What I am going to do now, Ms. Woolsey, is for both of us. You may not think so at first, but when I am done you will agree!” He reached behind my head and undid the tie. I forced my panties out of my mouth with my tongue and gave him some verbal crap!
“Mr. Raines!” I screeched. “What do you think you’re doing? You won’t get away without punishment for this. I demand that you let me out of this!” There was no way I wanted out of this, but I wanted to play the game with him.
He smiled and patted my cheek. “You are in no position to make demands, are you? No! I didn’t think so!”
He rose to his feet and undid his belt and zipper and let his pants fall to the floor. He kicked them aside and pulled off his briefs. I watched him in flabbergasted silence! Back in the day, well not so far back, we had engaged in recreational sex. Since I had been with Dorothy and others, we had not done anything. Ian is a big man and his bigness extends to his sexual equipment, which was beginning to stir. I stammered at him “Now, wait just a minute! You didn’t say anything about this!”
His answer was to move closer to me with his legs spread and planted right next to my knees. His now hard penis presented itself right at the level of my mouth. “Open your mouth, Ms. Woolsey! It’s not like you haven’t done this before!”
In fact we had done this before. It was just that his demeanor startled me. He was still in his role as Mr. Raines the stern headmaster, and it was a bit weird. I tried to turn my head, figuring that I would at least try and resist. He grabbed my head in both his hands and pressed the tip of his penis against my lips. “I said open up!” He cupped the back of my head with one hand and pinched my nostrils shut with the other. I fought to pull free and the need to breathe, knowing that if I opened my mouth, it was all over. I tried to suck in air through clenched lips, but that didn’t work. Finally I had to relent and opened my mouth to breathe. His pressed forward and I reluctantly let him in. It had been a long time since I had a man’s penis in my mouth, but I was not unfamiliar with the practice.
Back in high school, I had gained quite a bit of experience in this art. The nuns, hoping to have us avoid the mortal sin of intercourse, counseled us, in their coy way, to give our boyfriends hand jobs to relieve their amorous desires. Some of us took it a little farther and did oral sex and some, me included, had intercourse anyway.
But now, after several years of lesbian life, I was confronted with a living, throbbing real penis and it was a strange sensation! He stopped after he had gained entry and I looked up at him. He looked down at me and smiled his special smile that always lit me up. Ah, what the hell, I thought! I opened my mouth wider and he slid in further. I began to work on his penis with my tongue and lips. Bound as I was, he had to guide it and hold it where he wanted attention and he was only too eager to do it. I ran my tongue the length of it and licked lightly at the rim and tip. He slapped my face lightly with it. I had never blown someone while tied and it was a strange and powerful feeling. Tied as I was, I was just an orifice for him to fill. I couldn’t do much except use my lips and tongue. But. quite frankly, it excited the hell out of me. He pushed past my lips and began slowly and gently stroking in and out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and put tension on his penis. It slid heavy and solid over my tongue. He pushed deeper into my mouth angling my head so that he could slide it in further still.
Now and then the vibrator kicked in and pulsed the ropes that framed my clitoris. We were soon both in our own worlds of passion. I could sense the excitement in Ian and knew that he was close to coming. I was also feeling high and ready to explode. Ian pushed forward one final time and wiggled his butt until the full length of him was in my mouth. His pubic hair tickled my lips. He stopped moving and held there. He pinched my nostrils shut again and held them shut. With his penis in my mouth and my nose pinched shut, I had no oxygen. I began to struggle in panic stretching my mouth as wide as it would go to try and get some air. Just as my vision began to narrow, he released my nose and the vibrator kicked on. He withdrew his penis and with his hand quickly stroked it and began to ejaculate. His cum surged out and splattered on my face and into my still open mouth. As I felt his cum began to run down my face, my world dissolved into an incoherent blur of sensation. I wasn’t aware of anything except the wonderful and terrible feelings of orgasm.
When I became aware of my surroundings again I found myself untied and wrapped in one of Ian’s robes. How long I was out of it was unknown to me. Ian sat across from me a worried look on his face.
“You OK Annie? You had me worried!”
“Don’t call me Annie!”
He laughed, “I guess you’re OK! Wasn’t that great. I …I never came like that! I thought I was going to pass out!”
“Truthfully? I don’t remember anything after you pinched my nose shut! Did I enjoy it?”
“I guess! You were howling and shaking for 15 minutes after! I untied you and put you here and you were so zonked out, you didn’t move or say anything!”
We bantered on for a while and then exhaustion set in. I curled up on his bed and fell asleep for an hour or so. He woke me for some beer and Santarpio’s pizza, which was reward enough all by itself. Finally, at about eight o’clock, I roused myself and pulled on the sweats that were in the book bag. I gathered up all my stuff and joined Ian at his front door.
“You really know how to show a girl a good time!” We promised to keep in touch, hugged and I was out the door. It was a warm evening and I opted to walk the 20 blocks back home. My body was sore and I was logy from the sex. The exercise would do me good. When I reached the apartment, I went right into the bathroom and drew a hot bath. I lounged there until I was suitably wrinkled and relaxed and got up and prepped for bed.
Just before turning in, I checked my voice mail and e-mail. One e-mail caught my eye. It said, “If you aren’t tied up, why don’t we get together next weekend?” and was signed “Love, Wendy”.
Hmmmm!
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25.11.07