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We were in the ruins of an old fort overlooking San Francisco Bay. We stood there for a while looking out through crumbled windows. A few sailboats tossed in the rough blue green water of the Bay. Jeff pulled me to him, unbuttoning my blouse while he put his tongue deep into my mouth. He took one of my hands and guided it down to his crotch. I sank to my knees and unzipped his pants. Water soaked into my jeans where my knees touched the ground. |
Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy