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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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