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..A tale untold is like jewelry unsold, precious and shining gloriously,only for its owner. With my writing contract not extended after my thirdtale, combined with an inability to find new takers for it, I began towonder if my story was like a ring on a charlatan's finger, large andgaudy, implying an undeserved worth to its owner.Most depressing were these thoughts. Bad enough being unable to sell thegoods from your inventory, but when those unwanted goods are your ownstories, it is embarrassing. In defeat, I scurried away from the worldof writing, focusing on my first love, my truest love, the art of thedeal. It welcomed me warmly, gathering me in and making me question whyI had ever strayed from the comfort of its embrace. Soon I had mostlyforgotten about my endeavors with the quill, even convincing myself thatI was content with the way things had worked out, that I had returned tomy true purpose.Then upon returning from my last trip to the Kingdom, I found a missivewaiting from my. I hid behind the phonebox, just in time to see Mick and Dave flash by in their police car andI swear that I saw the man who owned the BMW in the back, gesticulatingwildly and shouting something.I carried on down the road as my breathing slowly returned to normal.The clouds had parted and it was now a clear evening. The stars wereshining and it was a full moon.The roads were quiet and thankfully free of dirty old men, women andchildren.I was now about a 20-minute walk away from home and I went as fast as Icould in my heels. How women could wear these damned items of tortureregularly, I would never know. They should get medals for enduranceabove and beyond the call of duty.Anyway, I had to cross the road. I didn't see the drain cover. My footlanded in one of the slits and with a loud bang, one of my heels brokeoff.'***!' I said loudly.This was definitely not one of my best days.I hobbled on, listing to starboard and contemplating whether I shouldbreak the other heel to even things up.
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She groaned, he semi stood swung her masterfully to the table end and allowed her to rest back for its support. She placed her elbows on the hard wooden surface, coffee cups flew as she leant back letting her body silently tell him know he was in charge, she was his, raising her hips for him to ease the tiny wisp’s of satin away down the long nylon clad slippery legs and away to oblivion. Her now revealed sex, emitting a faint scent of woman, mixed with the recently added deodorant, it drove him wild, his prick tenting the white boxers in an amazing display of male prowess, not that she could see it her eyes shut tight taken with this moment of lust as his tongue touched her skin once again and probed for her clitoris.Like an electric shock the contact was made, her hands clasped at his head one over each ear, his dark tight curls under her thumbs, as the tongue began its dance, she began to moan once again, long hard groans of pleasure, head writhing from one side to another a look.

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