Indian Bathing Girl

It wasn't me. I couldn't do that to you." She looked into my eyes as if reading the thoughts behind them, and then nodded in acceptance."Exactly what happened and how did you cope if you didn't call an ambulance?" It was a Monday and I was getting ready for work when the doorbell rang. I answered it. There was a skinny man there, tall but very thin and he asked if I was Mrs. Martin. I said yes and he said "This is revenge". I seem to recall a glass bottle in his hand as he swung it around and. Mom has been all over me about Simon. Now this . . . Stepping under the hot water, she decided she just would have to sort it out in her head and talk later. She just needed to get through Thanksgiving, which mercifully was only five days away, and three of those would be occupied with work. It was difficult, though, to ignore what had happened. She’d dreamed about it, hoped for it, and then . . . she’d almost had it. x-x-x-x Simon woke up and out of habit reached out to smack the snooze. (For a detailed list of the methods and effects of cunt disfigurement I refer you to Eric Boss’s story, “The Palaestra of Grossness” which, I immodestly add, has been described as a masterpiece of filth in some quarters.)It was refreshing to see a big-titted young fucking cunt, half-naked, in the middle of the pavement, jigging frantically up and down, scrabbling in a waste-basket and then shoving empty coke-can after coke-can up it’s grotesquely deformed cunt, and all the while gibbering to. "Look after that one, you have someone very special there!"Partly for Terry's sake; I did not want her thinking I was like her previous men, but also for my own, I was still very nervous about the idea of being with another woman, I had ordered two taxis. We walked hand in hand to greet them, the only bit of intimacy that took place. I received a chaste kiss as thank you, and we went our separate ways.During my journey home, I replayed the evening. My date, and that still sounded odd to me, had.
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