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We spent most nights like this. We’d come home from work and smoke to unwind. Lately though, I haven’t needed the haze of the smoke to relax. Her face, her smile, did just the same. Looking into those hazel eyes was all I needed to feel high. She was my haze; my Hazel.Her lips were so soft against mine. The kiss started sweetly with gentle motions that quickly turned into something sultrier with hard presses of lips, tongues and teeth. Whenever she kissed me like she wanted to eat me up, I knew she needed something more. She sucked and lapped at my lips. I could feel her teeth every now and again as I tried to keep up with her pace.Her face moved away from mine as she slid her body closer and began to assault my neck. She licked and sucked at the skin before gently biting down on it. It hurt a bit, but I enjoyed it. Her bite transformed into a kiss. The harsh sensation to such a mild one – I was overwhelmed. The arm that wasn’t supporting her body was holding me tight around my. Dashing to get out of the evidently haunted, or cursed, or some damnthing restroom, Roy slams though the door back into the lobby of thetheater, as she does so she gets a glimpse of the petite Asian woman theformer ginger haired young man who was himself has become. Displaying remarkable skill dashing on heels for someone who had neverworn a pair before Roy is greeted by the sight in the lobby of twoChinese people at the concision stand. A Chinese man in a red jacket behind the counter is pointing at aChinese woman, who is dressed like his girlfriend Paula had been, who isstanding before the counter. In unison, and in perfect Cantonese they say "Mister / Lady! How did youdo that? You just turned into a Asian man / woman like magic... Is thisa TV show? Are you with Criss Angel or something!" As Roy takes this in, the fact that he can understand, and speak alanguage that before had been as unfamiliar to him as... as well Chinesedoes not dawn on her, what Roy notices, aside from the.
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That night in bed Sandrine and Amélie traded stories about what they had learned. Amélie had been to the markets to see what produce, no matter how limited in variety, was good where and had a full report for Sandrine. For Sandrine’s part, the four of them, Heathcoate and his wife and the two women, consumed entirely the apple tart Sandrine and Geraldine had prepared during the afternoon.“She welcomes us, Amélie, I’m sure of it,” said Sandrine as she combed her fingers through Amélie’s hair. “I wasn’t sure at first. After all, I’m pretty strange to her.”“Yes, you are,” Amélie replied, “being black and all.” As she spoke Amélie drew her hand down Sandrine’s flank under her shift. Sandrine chuckled. Her chuckle turned to a murmur of approval as Amélie’s hand passed across her bottom and lingered for a moment.“Yes, I am,” said Sandrine. “Definitely black.”Amélie kissed her and the two were silent as they prolonged the contact. There was no need for fancy gestures or energetic ones. They.

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