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“Don’t…” My words died in my throat because his lips were touching mine. He only held them there, letting them send little sparkles over mine, and my resistance broke. My arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, and I started kissing him for all I was worth. He tasted of peppermint bubblegum. His strong hands gripped my head, and then he kissed me back, urgent and wild. Our lips mashed together and I moaned into his mouth, all the pent-up need welling up inside me at once. His hands let go. We then chatted about his plans for the party. His friend lived in downtown Redmond and honestly their plans sounded pretty lame. They planned to have dinner at the Matador, a good Mexican restaurant and bar in Redmond, and then head to Seattle to see a band and go to bars. He said he’d wished they could have gone to Vegas and gone crazy but that everyone was so busy that all they could do was something local. “Yeah and even the strip clubs in Seattle are a bit lame since you can’t drink but. It recorded his torment at work with an office containing a large proportion of women of all ages, of looking at their figures, trying to see panty lines under their skirts or trousers, how the younger girls showed off their firm young breasts, how he believed they teased him by bending forward and revealing their breasts, by bending forward and showing off their bottoms, how he was sometimes driven to the toilet to masturbate. He wrote about his trepidation when Mrs. Robinson was due to. ‘Hold it!’ I said. ‘If I’m right we may be too late. We need more than the two of us to hold them off. If George has got in he could help.’ ‘All right! We’ll check with Jane.’ We rushed through the maze of passages to the window. George had just squeezed himself through it from the roof. We explained what I suspected. ‘I’ve got my revolver,’ said George ‘So have you. They should stop a rush. Has Lisa got a pistol?’ Lisa produced a short double-barrelled Derringer from her skirt pocket. It.
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