Main | Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Fantasy #14

You arrive to find my door unlocked.

You enter my apartment to find me standing at the kitchen sink, curlers in my hair, wearing a tattered housecoat. A Virginia Slim 120 is hanging from my lips, its long ash threatening to fall into the soapy dishwater.

I wash. You dry.

You leave.

*HOT*


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