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Erotic Story:
A Great Place to Fuck
San Diego is
one of the most beautiful cities in the world, with so much to see and do
packed within its borders that a vacation could last for months. However, I
wasn't on vacation, I was on a business trip, and right now I hated San
Diego with a barely controlled passion. None of this had anything to do with
business, and I knew it. The meetings had gone better than I dared dream; I
was a hero to my boss and a savior to the troops...and a fading memory to my
lover. I was focused on this last one as I stared out the window of my hotel
room at the city lights, imagining all sorts of people who hadn't just been
dumped partying their asses off. The fact that my lover had been a
philandering shit I was glad to be rid of had momentarily slipped my mind. I
was on my third or fourth drink.
Than, almost magically, I was walking
through the sand at the edge of Mission Bay, staring out at the inky water,
then up at the black velvet, rhinestone studded sky. I could hear something
particularly insistent and offensive pounding out of the speakers in the
lounge. The moving shapes created brittle laughter as they partied their
vacant little minds out. I walked down the short pier, muttering something
to myself about the fabled long walk. The pretty boat was at the end. The
pretty man was doing something to the engine.
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