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The Lady With The Lawn Mower
by Dirk Stimson (getaway@cfl.rr.com)

***

A writer moves into a new neighborhood and meets the 
lady next door pushing a lawn mower. (MF, oral, rom)

***
 
Not a bad pad. Okay, it's a three-bedroom house that 
backs on a golf course. It's on a quiet street in a 
small southern town. Well, okay, it's really a suburb 
of Orlando, Florida, but it has the small town feel 
despite three banks on the corner, a Publix and an 
Albertsons, two Chinese restaurants and a sports bar. 
You get my drift?

I saw the ad in the paper on a Sunday and by the first 
of the month, I was moved in. Fifty-five years old. 
Nope, never married. Close a couple of times, but no 
cigar. Girl friends? Oh yeah! Serious relationships? 
Okay, two. But nobody moved in. Nothing binding like 
that. No not for William Jackson. First of all, moved 
around too much.

Wrote adventure stories and did some fee lance 
investigative reporting in Thailand, Sri Lanka and 
Tibet. Caught parasites in my gut, got thrown in jail 
twice for being too nosy and got lucky by getting 
bailed out by the Embassy and told to get the hell back 
to the States and find some new ground for adventure.

So, screw that. Now I write adventure stuff full time. 
Short stories. One book a year. Enough for a 
comfortable house like this and the Mini Cooper that 
sips gas. This place gives me peace and quiet. I can 
hear cows and horses from time to time and so far in 
this first week in the house, nobody is bugging me.

People next door on one side have two teenagers that 
play hoops after school and on weekends incessantly. 
Folks on the other side, I don't know. They moved in 
the weekend I found the house, so they are only here a 
week or so more than me. Haven't seen anybody there as 
yet.

I leave for the gym at five thirty every morning and a 
BMW and a truck are in their driveway and by the time 
I'm back at eight thirty they are both gone, so I guess 
they both work, assuming it is just two people living 
there. They have a pool. I don't. Who needs that 
maintenance nightmare? The gym has a great Olympic pool 
and I'm in it three times a week.

So, that's me. I took what was the family room in this 
house and made it my office with reference books and 
the computer and all the plaques and pictures on the 
wall.

I am too old for the club scene and don't go to church. 
So, outside of the gym, I don't really know anybody 
yet. But I'm researching writers' groups and I'll 
connect. A hermit I am not, although writing is a 
solitary gig, let me tell you.

First weekend here. I am back from the gym by nine, 
this being Saturday, my day to do nothing. No writing, 
no research. Just read and nap and maybe write some 
letters. Who am I kidding? E-mails. Nobody writes 
letters any more.

So, I'm dusting some book jackets when I hear this god 
awful racket from next door. What the hell is that?"

I open my front door and look out. Yep, it is coming 
from next door. The truck is gone but the BMW is in the 
driveway. I keep the Mini in the garage, but a lot of 
people in this neighborhood treat the garage as storage 
central. So anyway the racket is coming from back of 
the house next door. And it is getting louder. Then 
from around the edge of the screen covered pool behind 
the house, here comes a power mower.

And behind the power mower there is a girl. Okay, a 
lady. Quick size up puts her at about thirty-five. 
Short. I'm talking like five three max. Short blonde 
hair. She is wearing a bikini string top which is gutsy 
in a suburban Orlando neighborhood on a Saturday 
morning. Because she's got boobs to die for. They stick 
out like headlights. They don't jiggle as she maneuvers 
the power mower.

She is wearing shorts. Short shorts. And she has the 
legs of a mountain climber. I remember one time I 
lectured at Cornell. Ithaca, New York is all hills and 
the college girls had legs like mountain climbers. I 
like that. Strong, short legs.

She has this determined look on her face and is 
sweating. Okay, call me weird, but girls sweating turn 
me on. I'm standing in my driveway in my sweat pants 
and a tee shirt and I'm staring as she comes around the 
corner of the house and actually pushes the freaking 
mower along the side of the house. 

I mean a Florida summer and this little lady with 
incredible boobs and those strong legs is pushing a 
lawn mower. Me? I have a lawn service. But if I didn't, 
my mower would be self propelled. Oh, yeah. But I'm 
really happy in a perverse sort of way that her's 
isn't.

She looks up and smiles at me and it is dazzling. She 
is beautiful! White, white teeth. Just enough of a tan 
to show that she gets out in the sun, like mowing her 
lawn, but not enough to be one of those bronzed 
Floridians whose face will turn to leather when they 
hit fifty. 

I nod and give her a half wave. She turns off the 
mower. "Hey!" She calls.

"Hey yourself!" I call back.

She is standing behind the mower and breathing deeply. 
I see little rivulets of sweat running down between 
those incredible breasts. "You just move in?"

"Yes ma'am. And if I'm not mistaken, you guys were 
moving in the first weekend I looked at the house."

"Right!" She says. "Noticed you that morning."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I like the Mini Cooper."

Oh, yeah. Me too. Notice you drive a Beemer."

"Yeah, my little baby."

Okay, enough of this shit. I stride across the driveway 
and right up to her. The eyes are blue. "Bill." I say. 
"Bill Jackson."

There's the smile again. And dimples when she does. 
Man! "Dorothy. Dorothy Marsh."

I reach out a paw and she takes it. Little, little 
hands.

"How come you mow your own lawn? Florida, in the summer 
time?"

The grin comes out again, complete with dimples. "I 
like the exercise. Mow the lawn, wash the car...you 
know." She brushes back her short hair. "You live 
alone?"

"Umm...yeah. I see two cars – well the Beemer and a 
truck in your driveway."

The smile again. "Just me and my boyfriend. He's a drag 
racer and works for his family in an auto parts 
business. You?"

I shrug. Didn't think it would get this personal so 
fast. "I'm a writer. Used to be a reporter traveling 
the world. Getting old for that."

She looks me up and down, really slow like a scanner at 
the airport. "You don't look that old."

I chuckle. "Well, old is a relative term. I see your 
car out early. So, I figure you work, right?'

"Yep. Believe it or not, I'm a software engineer." 
Again the smile.

"Oh – I believe it. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, even in today's world a woman, well... you 
know."

The sun is really hot. I'm sweating through the tee 
shirt. "Hold on a sec!" I say, holding up a finger. I 
back up into the garage where there is an extra 
refrigerator. I pull out two bottles of water, Run back 
outside and hand one to her.

"Well," she says, "thanks! I better get back to mowing 
before I melt."

"How come the drag racer doesn't do the duty?" Now that 
is not nice, I know, but I really, really want to know 
the story here. 

She rubs the bottle across her forehead and then puts 
it between those headlight breasts. She shivers a 
little. I am turned on. "Well, he's got his thing and 
I've got mine. I love the exercise, hot or not. I 
always have a lot of excess energy to work off, it 
seems."

Man, there is an opening, but I do not take it. I 
salute her with the bottle, she starts the roaring 
mower again and I head back in the house. 

I noticed a small tear in the screen on the patio in 
the back of my house the day before. Now I'm not about 
to tear it out and put in a new one. Hell, it's a small 
tear. So I get a strip of transparent tape and go out 
and tape the tear from the outside.

Now my screened patio is right across from Lawn Mower 
Lady's pool. The space between the houses is adequate 
but not like an acre or anything, so the pool is close 
and you can hear conversation in my patio or in their 
pool.

I just finish the taping when I hear the door to their 
patio open and there she is. This time the bikini top 
is still there, but the shorts have been replaced with 
a bikini bottom that really shows off those strong 
legs. Also I notice some ripples on the taut stomach. 
Lawn Mower Lady has an almost six pack!

On her patio it's about two steps from the door to the 
pool and she comes down the little stairs into the 
pool. She slides in up to her neck and just sits there. 
I see she's got a wine glass in her hand. Class.

She looks over and sees me looking at her, holding the 
tape in my hand. She waves the glass at me. I wave the 
tape back. "Want to come over for a dip? You look hot. 
– I mean really, really warm." She giggles and puts a 
hand up to her mouth.

I laugh back. "Why thanks. You sure it's okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" 

Right. Stupid. "Yeah, well give me a minute." I go in 
the house, grab my trunks from the bedroom closet, tear 
off the sweats, Reeboks and socks and go out the patio 
door. Three steps later I'm at Lawn mower Lady's patio 
door. I go in and see that now she's got the wine 
bottle on a table and another glass. She is back in the 
pool.

"Some Pinot Grigio?"

"Love it!"

"Help yourself and come on in."

So, I pour a half glass and ease down those little 
stairs into the pool. It's not heated, but in weather 
like this, the water is an easy eighty degrees. I move 
over next to her and we tip glasses. "The boyfriend 
work on Saturday?"

"Harry? Yeah. Until about four. Then he'll come home 
and we go to the drag races out at Colonial Dragway." 

"You a big fan?"

She takes a sip of the wine and puts her glass on the 
edge of the pool. She lifts both hands out of the water 
and spills water on her head and shoulders. As she 
does, her breasts move up to the top of the bikini and 
I am getting an eyeful.

"Well, I like the people out there. The noise is a bit 
much and he doesn't spend a whole lot of time with me, 
what with the car and his crew and all." She extends 
those strong legs out and begins kicking, making a 
little water movement. "And you, Bill, what do you do 
in your free time?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Afraid I'm pretty structured. I 
take Saturday to completely let the batteries re-
charge. I have a deadline on two or three articles I 
have due. I work out six days a week early in the 
morning, go on line for research, write, edit and well, 
that's about it." I am standing in the water which is 
only about four feet deep. I put my glass on the edge 
of the pool next to her. As I do, I brush her shoulder 
with my arm. No, not on purpose!

She gives me a look that could say is that all or why 
did you do that or nothing. "Oh c'mon, Bill! You must 
do more than that! Obviously you are not married. Where 
is the significant other?"

I shake my head. "Nope. None. And I just moved up here 
from Miami. Don't know anybody. Trying to get into a 
couple of writing groups but I've only been here a 
week, remember. I'm too old for clubbing and don't go 
to church. So, what's an old fart to do?"

She laughs a very throaty laugh. "Old fart? Hardly. 
You'll get grabbed up as soon as you find your groove."

We are right next to each other. She is still lazily 
kicking her legs. As they swing back she catches the 
side of my leg about every third kick. Doesn't hurt and 
I don't move.

She turns her head to me. What great eyes! "So tell me 
about your writing."

"Not much to tell. I have always been a free lancer. 
Allowed me to go into some uncharted waters. Not too 
smart a lot of the time. Got into some scrapes, was 
asked, not too gently, by the State Department to come 
back to the States and stay here." I shrug. "So, here I 
am."

"Why'd you leave Miami?" This time the leg comes back, 
snares my leg and stays there, rubbing my calf with her 
foot. I can't ignore it, but I do my best.

"Too much like a big city. Too Spanish to tell you the 
truth. I spent a lot of time in Central America. Got 
shot at. Got stabbed – in Colombia, not Miami! But I 
wanted a real change."

The foot stops its rubbing. "Stabbed! Where?"

I lift my arm out of the water. "Right her along the 
ribs." I run my finger down the scar. It's healed, but 
you can feel it.

She half turns to me, takes her hand and puts it right 
where my finger was. She gently strokes my scar. If she 
looks in the water now she will see a tent forming in 
my trunks. 

"Wow!" She says, those blue eyes now thoroughly engaged 
in mine. "What an exciting life!" The hand has not 
stopped. Neither has my hard on.

We are so close now that her breasts are actually 
touching my chest. I don't want to make a move for a 
couple of reasons. One, she might slash me with a wine 
glass and two, I don't know how close we are to 
boyfriend coming home time.

Her hand comes out of the water and up to my face. 
Damn! I should have shaved this morning, but man, it's 
Saturday! She strokes my cheek and leans into me. What 
the hell! I lean my face towards her and she covers the 
distance. We kiss. Gently, but for a long time. We pull 
apart simultaneously.

She puts her head under water and comes up quickly. "Oh 
God!" She says, and puts both hands on her face. "I'm 
sorry! I don't know what hit me! Forgive me?"

I put my hands over hers. "Nothing to forgive. That was 
very sweet. Now, I better be going." Yeah, easy to say. 
But Willie the hard on is still at attention. Well, 
maybe I can keep my back turned.

She is just sitting in the water as I climb out. I have 
to turn around to get to the door and damn! Willie is 
at attention, still. She is looking at me. Right at my 
crotch.

"Well," she says softly, "at least I can still do 
that."

"Yes ma'am," I reply just as softly. "That and more." 

I walk the few steps to my own patio, open the door and 
hurry in the house. As I do I hear the roar of a 
powerful truck pulling up next door. Whew!

* * *

Sundays are special. I go to the gym which is 
affiliated with the one I belonged to in Miami. I swim 
my mile, come home, make myself pancakes, clean the 
bathrooms, vacuum the rug which it needs after movers. 
And the New York Times. My one vice. Sunday Times. I 
eat and read and sit and read. An hour, maybe more.

Then it's time for work. I'm sitting there at the 
dining room table in my shorts, no shirt and reading 
the book review section when there is a tap on the door 
to the patio. I had unlocked it in my routine when I 
swept the patio this morning.

I turn in my chair and my God! It's Dorothy the Lawn 
Mower lady! I get up and go to the glass door and swing 
it open. "Hey!" I say.

She steps in. She is wearing like a moo-moo and bare 
feet. "I could say I came to borrow a cup of sugar, but 
why lie?" She says it with her head hanging down just a 
bit.

"Well, I got sugar...but.." Okay, I'm stuck for an 
answer. And my mind, always full of conspiracy theories 
is already developing a story. He came home, saw two 
wine glasses by the pool, she confessed, she came over 
to accuse me or apologize and then he'll show up and 
beat me with a tire iron.

She looks up at me. The blue eyes seem to be blazing. 
"Yesterday, when we were next to each other in the 
pool, I felt this electricity like I haven't in a long, 
long time. When I kissed you I felt so embarrassed, but 
you kissed back, and..."

We are about six inches apart, standing n the middle of 
my living room. "Whoa!" I say. "Wait a minute. Come 
here and sit down." I lead her to the couch. It is a 
big living room with those twelve foot ceilings that 
they are finally building into Florida homes. I have 
two wing chairs and a sofa facing the TV set and a 
Herman Miller chair in one corner with a light over it 
where I do my reading and research.

She sits next to me, right on the edge of the couch. 
She looks around the room. Then she looks back at me 
and smiles. "Nice."

"Thanks." I'm still feeling my way here. "Look, 
Dorothy, you have nothing to feel guilty or ashamed of. 
It was a beautiful moment." 

She half turns to me. I can see her breasts outlined 
against the dress. I swear she has no bra on this 
morning. "I don't feel guilty. I want to know if you 
meant that kiss."

How the hell do I answer that one? "Well, yeah. I mean 
of course I did. Like I said, it was a beautiful 
moment."

"That's all?"

"Well, okay. Look you are a beautiful woman. You were 
wearing a bikini. I haven't been with a woman in well, 
a long time. I was turned on. Big time. But I am 
sensitive about turf. You live with your boyfriend. Is 
he home this morning?"

That broke the mood, but I had to know. She laughed 
that hearty laugh. "No silly. The car semi blew up last 
night and he's at the shop."

"Oh. Okay. Good. I mean, well, yeah. It was a beautiful 
moment." 

"And no more."

"I didn't say that. I just don't know what this is yet. 
I mean, we met yesterday and I'm really attracted to 
you. More than I should be."

"What do you mean 'more than you should be'".

"Well hell Dorothy – you are living with a guy. We just 
met. I do have some rules, some morals."

"Oh." She lowers her head and folds her hands in her 
lap. "Then, I am sorry. I don't want to embarrass you." 

I reach over and take her chin in my hand. I lift her 
head. "Embarrass me? Lady, you don't know. It took 
three glasses of wine and an Advil PM for me to sleep 
last night."

She takes my hand in her small one. "Look. Harry and I 
have been together for three years. He doesn't want to 
get married and frankly neither do I. The sex when we 
met was incredible. The whole drag racing scene was 
exciting for me. I'm a software engineer for God sake! 
But time moves on. He's put on thirty pounds in the 
past two years. We haven't made love in over a month. I 
swear he gets off on his car. I don't like the smell of 
exhaust and gasoline anymore and then you show up next 
door..." By now she is squeezing my hand to the point 
where the blood is cut off.

"Shhh," I say.

She sighs and sits back on the couch, her head on the 
back cushion. She lets go of my hand and crosses her 
arms under her breasts. Nope. No bra.

"Look," I say, still feeling my way, "I felt it too. My 
God, when you ran your hand over my scar I thought I'd 
boil the water in the pool. Question is, what do you 
want to do about it?"

By now I'm also sitting back with my head next to hers. 
She reaches over and takes my face in both hands and 
kisses me full on the mouth. Softly then hard Then I 
feel her tongue and answer it with mine. She puts her 
arms around me as best she can and I do the same. She 
pulls me to my feet. There is a coffee table in front 
of the couch so I take her hand and lead her around it.

We are standing in the middle of the living room 
kissing and holding each other. I kiss her neck and she 
starts to breathe harder. She takes her arms from 
around me and pulls my shorts down. Willie is back at 
attention. She reaches for me and feels him through my 
jockeys. She groans slightly.

I grab her moo-moo around the waist and lift it up. She 
takes her hand away and puts her hands over her head. I 
slip the dress over her head. She is totally naked 
underneath.

I step back and look at her. The breasts, as I imagined 
are large melons, standing straight up. The nipples are 
red and round and hard and very long. The stomach is 
breathing in and out and is yeah, buffed. Between those 
strong legs, now so straight is a light touch of blonde 
hair. A natural!

She reaches for me and we are pressed against one 
another again. I take her by the hand and lead her into 
my bedroom. Thank God I vacuumed and made the freaking 
bed! I am holding her hand with one of mine as I take 
down the spread that Adolpho, the decorator in Miami 
made me buy and pull the covers back. She holds me very 
close once more, sits on the edge of the bed and pulls 
my jockeys down the rest of the way.

She looks up at me with a little smile and the dimples. 
One hand reaches out and holds Willie. He loves it. 
Then she takes him in both hands. He responds with just 
a little pre-cum on the tip. She uses that to lather 
him a bit. Then she reaches one arm behind me, takes my 
buttocks and pulls me to her. The geometrics of the bed 
and my height put him at face level. She takes him in 
her mouth and softly begins to move her tongue around 
his head. She pulls back and forth slowly, taking more 
and more until he is fully inside her mouth.

My hands are on her shoulders which are also powerful. 
Okay, I am getting too close to cumming. I back up just 
a tad and Willie slips out of her mouth. She looks up 
at me. I reach under her and take both her legs and 
swing her on the bed.

She is up on her elbows looking at me. It is a very 
soft, sensuous look. She is so beautiful and so sexy. 
I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. The vertical blinds 
are semi-open so shadows are playing across her body. I 
take one hand and slowly sweep it over her body. I 
barely touch her face, her breasts and her stomach.

I begin to slowly stroke just below her navel. I watch 
her stomach begin to move in and out and hear her 
breathing getting harder. She spreads her legs just a 
little and lays back on the pillow. I move a couple of 
inches and am stroking those light incredibly soft 
pubic hairs.

She spreads her legs further apart, drawing her knees 
up slightly. I slide my hand down and she is wet, 
really wet. I stroke just outside the opening and then 
run one finger across the lips. She is now clutching 
the sheet with both hands. I slide one finger inside 
and gently stroke her clitoris. 

Now as you know, on some girls, it is way inside and 
has to be searched for. On others, like Dorothy the 
Lawn mower Lady, it sits right at the edge as if it was 
guarding the castle. I keep stroking and now she is 
writhing on the bed. Suddenly, she arches her back and 
thrusts up and those strong legs hold her up. She 
shudders and grunts in that deep voice of hers. She 
brings both hands down on top of the one I've got at 
the edge of her vagina and holds it very tightly 
against her clitoris. She writhes a moment more and 
then falls back, breathing deeply. He body is covered 
with a patina of sweat.

"You know," she almost whispers, "I go in the pool when 
Harry isn't home and do that to myself, but it never, 
never felt like that. Thank you." She gets up on her 
elbows again and says "Now, come here."

She pulls me up on the bed and I roll over on top of 
her, with both of us propped up on our elbows. I feel 
those magnificent strong legs curl around my back and 
she pulls me down on top of her. I take one hand and 
send Willie into paradise. He slides in her wet tunnel 
with ease. She hisses between her teeth and closes her 
eyes.

I start to stroke easily and she answers with thrusts 
of her hips. She has her legs wrapped around my waist 
and her arms tightly around my back. We are as one. She 
starts to move faster and faster and I am right with 
her.

She suddenly takes her legs from around me and pushes 
against the bed. "NOW!" She cries and I answer. I push 
inside her as far as I can and we climax together in a 
shuddering, roaring finish that is the closest I have 
felt to another human being in years.

We are lying on top of each other, breathing in unison, 
drifting in post-coital dreaminess. "Oh God, Oh God" 
she says softly and then begins to cry against my 
shoulder.

I lift myself up enough to see her face, with tears on 
her cheeks. I look at her. "Are you all right?"

She laughs through her tears. "Where did you come from? 
How did you find me?"

"Well, that freaking lawn mower of yours and the bikini 
top and I was smitten."

"Ahh," she sighs. "And now this. Does it have to end 
now?"

I sit up, more or less straddling her, my weight back 
on my knees. "That my dear lady is up to you. This can 
be a one time experience and just lovely, as was 
yesterday. Or..." I break it off. I'm not the one with 
a live in boyfriend.

She scooches up so that she is facing me. "Or what?"

"Or we can see if there is more to this than a terrific 
roll in the hay."

She stares at me very hard. "I would love that Bill, I 
would. But for now, I'll take this and let from now on 
take care of itself." 

She reaches down between my legs and strokes Willie, 
very gently. He has been napping but answers the call 
of the wild like a champ. He begins to uncurl She 
smiles at me and pushes me off her. 

I don't wait for Willie. I slide down her body, which 
releases him, slide my head between those incredible 
legs and begin to softly lick at the opening of her 
vagina. She flops back on the bed and spreads those 
legs. I take two fingers and gently open her. My tongue 
begins to explore the inner surfaces. She has her hands 
in my hair. I feel her body begin to tense. I lick at 
her clitoris faster and faster. I take it gently in my 
mouth and suck on it while I twirl my tongue around it.

She is beginning to thrash again and cry out and moan 
and then her legs clamp on my head and I think I've 
gone deaf. She thrashes twice more and I feel her 
gushing on my face. She writhes and I hold on. He legs 
fly apart and she grabs her knees and I keep licking 
and sucking. 

"Stop," she whispers. "No more. Please no more."

But I don't. I grab her buttocks and force her even 
closer to me. I am soaked with her own cum but I don't 
care. She is tensing and thrashing and actually 
screaming "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh my God. I'm cumming again! 
Ahhhh!"

She shudders and goes limp. I pull my face up. She is 
lying there with her eyes fluttering. I get slowly off 
the bed and go in the bathroom. I wipe my face and 
towel Willie off as well.

When I get back in the bedroom she is curled around one 
of my pillows and fast asleep. Good man Bill! You can 
wear out a younger woman!

I tip toe back in the bathroom and close the door. I 
climb in the shower. I am covered with cum – both mine 
and hers. And I am covered in sweat – both mine and 
hers. It has been just a lovely Sunday Morning.

I am just about finished rinsing when she comes in. She 
comes right in the shower with me. I look at her body 
again. My God! I soap her all over and she grabs the 
soap and lathers Willie. Willie has no morals. He is 
hard in a minute. There is a little bench built into 
the corner of the shower to keep stuff on or lift your 
leg when you are drying yourself. Right now there is 
nothing on it.

She backs me up to it and sits me down. Then, facing me 
she climbs in my lap, reaches down and moves Willie 
right into her. We are sitting on this little bench, 
the hot water cascading down and hardly moving. She 
moves her legs just enough to get action going and we 
take a long, long time to climax together. Quietly this 
time and very, very tenderly.

Ten minutes later we are standing in the middle of the 
living room again. She has got the moo-moo back on and 
I'm in a clean pair of shorts. We are just holding 
hands.

She looks up at me and the blue eyes are sad. "Is this 
all there is, Bill? Does it end here?"

"That Lawn mower Lady, is up to you. There is more to 
this than just sex, I'm sure of that. But you have 
obligations, so..."

She puts a finger up to my lips. "Let's not talk of 
that now. Give me your e-mail address. Let's write each 
other from right next door. You'll learn about me, I'll 
learn about you. Then, well, we'll see. Okay?"

"Okay."

She backs up and goes through the patio door. She does 
not look back. I feel her touch, I smell her body. Love 
thy neighbor is a beautiful motto, is it not? 

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 58