domingo, 17 de junio de 2012

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Following the launch of Diet Pepsi, Miranda returned to the room, turned on the light. It was wired with caffeine. Smart idea. Drinking carbonated beverages before bed. . . She looked in the mirror. A blonde, blue eyes, looked tanned eighteen years behind her. Everyone said she was beautiful. Large, nearly five feet ten inches tall, athletic, fit and toned, with high cheekbones and a warm, friendly smile. What was not to love? She did not know, but she never thought she was beautiful. Acceptable, perhaps, a good day. But beautiful? It seemed too strong a word, no matter what others told him. She turned, looked at herself in profile. It had a nice rump, even they admit that dynamic and concise, but still round and had well-formed. Her breasts? Not much to write home about. She wore a bra 34B, and had to accept that they have never been so forward. Of course, the guys at school do not have to worry about. They talked about it, as if in a championship contest of the horn-dog. Who could fuck Miranda Jenkins first? Who would they lose their virginity? She sat on the bed, took his diary. It was old fashioned, they knew that keeping a journal with pen and ink. Some of his friends taunted him about it. Well, who cared? She had never been a conformist. She was the only girl in school, the couple listed as their favorite show. Half the class had never heard of him. If only they knew Ed Norton as the sexiest man she had ever seen. . . Norton was hilarious. He let out a laugh every time they looked. She admired a six pack and a pair of pistols on a guy as much as the girl next door. But it meant nothing when he could not make them laugh. And when the time came on this walk, on that trip when she met the right man, he would certainly want to be someone with a sense of humor. She began writing. . . * Nobody knows, at home. Sometimes I wonder if anyone will ever be. I do not even know if I do, at least not completely. "Like, totally," said Laurie would like! I miss Laurie, and all my friends. I guess I did not know that this increase would be about the great state of New York if only. It's nice to see Aunt Mary, but this is not the same as my friends. Well. It's something I wanted to do, and I do not regret it, even. I have not yet found. And sometimes I wonder. Here, I walk, look at, but I find it? Who is he? Is it my age? Or is it more? Thirty? Forty? I remember talking to Laurie once. "No question I would be a 40 year old man," she said. "It's gross, with a capital G. Ick. I mean, like, my father 40 years!" Well, it's mine, but when I found the right man, and he was 40, I would. I really want. It's not like I'm looking for a soul mate. Only one time thing. It's so weird. I mean, I like some of the boys in my class. But it never felt right for them. I'm not a tease. At least I do not want to be. It's easy. . . I do not know. I thought about waiting, I'm married to perhaps. But this is so old school. I mean, really. Everyone tells me I am old-fashioned, but not this way. It's just that I do not know. If I do not wanna wait, I think, somehow, I do not know, it's better that with a stranger, someone I could answer that to this purpose. Someone I'll never see him again. Some people would say that it is cheap and sloppy and dirty. But I'm not looking for a friend. Or even a lover. Quite an experience. I want to know how it feels, and I do not want to wait years and years. And I do not want to face anyone. I am too busy with college and all the door. Sometimes I hate that I live in a small town. Everybody knows you and knows who you are sleeping, as it seems. This is one reason why I'm walking on it. If I find the right person, I want to be a hundred miles away. I do not want my parents, their parents, or know what else. I do not know. I'm eighteen, but sometimes I feel so much more. Depressed. As expectations. Everybody wants me to do great in college and get good job after my studies, and they probably need me, oh, I do not know how the President of the United States of America or something. It's flattering, but there are a lot of pressure. Sometimes I just want to do something for me. And I do it for me. I want to discover things. I want to feel things. I want to know things. I wanna be free. . . * "You're early," said Aunt Mary. She was a strong woman with gray hair in his mid-fifties, the older sister of my mother. "But I was ready, just in case! There are scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. "He eats his breakfast, she was on the stove. "Thank you, Aunt Mary," said Miranda. "It looks good. I'm starving. "She grabbed a bowl full of eggs, toast, but avoid bacon. She had been a vegetarian since she was fourteen. She sat on the small oval table in the middle of the room, in front of Aunt Mary, hoping she would not notice the lack of bacon on his plate. "Oh, silly me, I forgot!" Aunt Mary said. "Forgive me, darling. I should not forget, you do not eat meat. This is probably why you are so thin and pretty. Do not love me." She stepped back from the table and patted her belly abundant, then pushed forward again. "I like my meat." Miranda laughed, took a bite of toast. Videos Porno

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