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Tom and Tiffany - The Bus Trip
VSR Tape
First Date


"It is now safe to turn your computer off."

I had just finished answering my last e-mail. It was to Bronwen one of the
fearless leaders of the erotic writer's guild. (Which I am a proud junior member

of.) I had made a post to our Internet newsgroup that I was going to Lake Tahoe

for a week, and she had asked me if going to Lake Tahoe was a good thing. I
thought that it was. Even if I did had to do some work, I'd get some skiing in

too. So I had responded; I'll let you know when I get back."

As I punched the off button on the computer, I looked up at the clock on the
wall
of my bedroom and noticed that I'd been messing around a little too long and
realized that if I wanted to make my 4:30 flight I'd better get my butt in gear.


As I pulled out of the long driveway to my apartment house and headed toward
Portland up highway 20, I made a mental list of the stuff I was taking with me.

This whole trip was kind of weird. My boss had called me only the day before to

inform me we were going to have a "Corporate Retreat" in a little town called

Stateline, just north of Lake Tahoe. He said that the meetings would be held on

Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Then on Saturday we'd take the day off and go

skiing on mount Rose. I think the whole thing was supposed to make us more like
a
team.

Well, as long as I have my skis on the roof rack I am up for anything. This was

like a vacation for me. I love to travel. Any excuse is a good one as far as I'm

concerned. I'd fly to Buffalo New York just for the fun of flying there. (That

may give you an idea of the lengths I'd go just to travel)

I don't get to travel a lot and being 20, I don't have loads of cash. Basically
I
live in three rooms in a huge old farm house/mansion off of highway 20 on the

edge of the Deschutes National forest. It's a neat old house but my space in it

is "small" but only costs me $350 a month. Since I own my 1977 Ford Explorer
(built a year before I was born) and my computer belongs to the company I work

for, my actual expenses are pretty low. But somehow I always seem to live just a

little over my income. Contact with the outside world is pretty limited when the

biggest city near you is a place called Bend. (It's OK that you probably have

never heard of Bend. It's sort of in the middle of Oregon and there's not a lot

of reason for anyone to know that it even exists)

At any rate, I was stoked! Heading up the fog shrouded road to fun and
adventure,
with a slight guilt pang that my boyfriend Jeff couldn't come with me. But then

this was business and I'd be working for three days (sort of -- wink, wink). He

was in the middle of a project just then anyway and had been up in Seattle for

almost a week when my boss called. (Jeff's a Structural Engineer)

:-:

I made Portland just fine. Got parked and through the construction wracked
terminal in time to be one of the blessed first thirty passengers on Southwest

flight 1709 to Sacramento. (They don't have assigned seats, and even though I

like people, I hate having to sit in a middle seat) We boarded and left right on

time.

My plan was to catch up on reading several of my friends Internet stories via
the
old laptop during the 1 1/2-hour flight to Sacramento. I was sitting next to an

older man (40ish) and made a special effort to introduce myself to him and get

to know him a little. He turned out to be a salesman, and also a reverend; he
had
his own church. His little congregation met at his house each Sunday.

I usually draw my neighbour into reading my stories during a flight, unless I'm

travelling with Jeff, then we keep each other busy. I like to get their
reaction,
it's fun to let them know that I write erotic stories for the Internet. And it's

fun to see if they get aroused sitting there beside me while we read a selected

story together. (I've had several interesting things happen doing this on a
flight, which I should probably write about sometime) But I didn't think that my

salesman/ preacher would appreciate what I was up to, so I positioned the
computer screen toward the window so he couldn't read it.

I was determined to read without making any outward signs of what I was doing.

Luckily I had already read Woodsmokes story (It really makes me crazy when
someone uses my name in their story. For some reason that turns me on to imagine

myself in a story.) But as I read the story list, no one else had done that and
I
was able to get through every story without giving myself away, although some of

those stories did make me kind of crazy.

Well, everything went all right and we landed at Sacramento International at
6:45PM. But as I was walking through the rather seedy looking terminal an
announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Kristen Becker, please pick up a white

courtesy phone." That surprised me -- nothing like that had ever happened to me

before. As a matter of fact I wasn't sure what a white courtesy phone was. But

being smarter that the average blonde, I quickly figured out that the white
phones on the wall must be what they meant.

It turned out that Andreaus (The big boss) had a son who was also attending our

little retreat. And he wanted me to meet him at the Southwest Baggage claim and

bring him with me to the meeting. Well... I have to admit I was put off a little

by this. Apparently Antonio (Seems like all the men in my boss' family have "An"

names of some kind or other) wouldn't be 18 for two more months, and therefore

couldn't rent a car on his own. So I was stuck. It's hard to say no to the boss,

especially when he's covering all your expenses for a day on the slopes, if you

know what I mean.

I was wearing my black cold weather outfit that day and when I walked into the

baggage claim I got a good response from the men in the area. (I make a point of

wearing tight outfits. It's fun to watch the lengths some men will go to, to get

a good look at some leg. I'm not a really bad tease or anything, I just know
that
I look good in tight pants.)

And there was Antonio standing by the carousel undressing me with his eyes. I
was
taken aback a little by the unrelenting stare he was giving my body. And I do

mean my body, I don't think he looked into my face until I was standing right in

front of him offering him a hand to shake.

Looking back it was kind of funny, because when I shook his hand it was real
sweaty, and he realized at that moment that he'd been staring like an idiot, and

became super embarrassed.

His dad is around 50 or so and has grey hair so I had no idea what colour it had

been when he was younger. Putting aside the sweaty handshake Antonio's most
outstanding feature was his lovely auburn-red hair. Lots of wavy hair, the kind

that seems to fall into place without doing anything to it. (I suspected it was

an expensive haircut.) He was also quite hand- some, but then I find most men

handsome in one way or another.

:-:

After the introduction was over we grabbed a luggage-cart and filled it with our

baggage and ski's, then headed toward the busses that take you to the rentals.
As
we went out the terminal doors I realized that the weather had turned ugly. You

could actually see the clouds moving overhead. The wind is something else in
Sacramento; it cuts right through you, even in cold weather clothing. But I
didn't mind, I just walked faster and made Antonio run after me to try to keep

up.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a little bit pushy. It's not that I'm rude or

mean in the slightest, I just have a hard time with slow people. I'm very
athletic and feel that men have a big advantage over women strength wise, and I

have little patience with men who complain and can't keep up with me. I gave
little Antonio a hard time when he began to whine at me about the pace I had
set,
so I walked faster... I also said something that offended his masculinity and

after that he was pretty sullen for a while. But things livened up when we got

into our 1998 Blazer and it wouldn't start.

I had to get an attendant to take a look at the vehicle for me. He kind of
pissed
me off when he took the attitude that I was just another dumb blonde who didn't

know anything about cars. Well... anyway it was a bad fuse. It took him awhile
to
figure it out. I was ready for another car, but they didn't have any more
four-wheel drive vehicles on the lot, and I thought with the crummy weather it

would be wise to stay with a four-wheel drive since we were going to do some
mountain driving.

The short version is: We finally left the Sacramento airport about 7:30PM
heading
south on Interstate 5. I had no trouble finding the junction to Hwy. 50 and then

pushed the pedal to the metal. South Tahoe is a little over two hours from
Sacramento, and I wanted to get in to the hotel long before 10PM, so I was
hurrying things a bit.

About Plaserville the fog and snow started. The snow began falling like we were

in the middle of a blizzard. I had to slow down to fifty just to see twenty feet

in front of me. (So much for 10PM) I started to get worried when I saw the fog

thickening. Slowing the Blazer down to twenty-five we began to creep up the
two-lane road.

I knew we were in trouble just after we passed Kyburz and the side of the hill
to
the right of slid down into the river that ran along the side of the road. There

had been a forest fire sometime in the past year or two and the soil erosion was

obvious even in the dark. I stopped the truck in the middle of the snow covered

road as we watched the soil and tree stumps fall all the way into the rushing

river. It was dark and the only reason we'd seen the hill go, was that the area

had been framed in the headlights of the Blazer when it let loose. Realizing
that
the weather was turning worse I pushed on - hoping to make the remaining
twenty-nine miles to Lake Tahoe before any other nasty things happened.

About ten miles farther on the big one happened. The truck stopped. I mean
everything stopped. The headlights when out, the engine stopped and we were
sitting in the middle of the road. I kept trying to start the engine, but after

turning the key fifty times with nothing happening I finally stopped. Antonio in

his helpful male adolescent way suggested that it might be a fuse.

I knew that! It just hadn't occurred to me yet.

So I scrunched down to look at the area the rental guy had been working on and

started to pick at the panel that covered it. Well... I couldn't seem to get it

off, and finally Antonio got tired of me hitting the dashboard and swearing at

the plastic covering and got out of the passenger seat and slogged around the

Blazer. Opening my door he leaned in and flipped the hatch open. He flicked a

Bick lighter to see what he was doing and soon found the bad fuse. As if he knew

what he was doing he kept moving them around until the headlights flashed on.


I turned the ignition and the engine started up immediately.

And promptly stopped again right after Antonio reclaimed the passenger seat.
Cursing, he moved to open his door again, but I grabbed his arm and said, "just

climb over me and I'll move to your side. The snow's getting too deep, and it's

colder than the North Pole out there." Little Antonio hesitated, then did what I

had suggested. I hadn't planned on him rubbing his face across my chest though,

but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't punch him in the nuts to wipe

the dumb smile off his face.

(Here's another one of those "To make a long story short" statements.) We
couldn't get the Blazer to start again. Antonio guessed that the lower rated
fuses just popped their little filament thingies when- ever we turned on the
ignition. So there we were, stuck! The snow was coming down in buckets and the

wind was whistling through a crack that I had left open on the driver's side
window and couldn't close because they were power windows. (And they no longer

worked) Needless to say it only took ten minutes for all the residual heat to be

sucked out of the truck.

It was about this time that I noticed that no other cars had gone by us for
almost a half-hour. I could barely see the tire tracks that were filling with

snow in front of us. (We learned later that when that hill had slid down into
the
river it had created a temporary damming effect. That had brought the water
level
up to overflow the pavement. The authorities soon came on the situation and
stopped the up hill traffic until morning, as well as at the top of the mountain

too, and rerouted everyone another way. But what really PO'ed me, was that
no-one
checked the road to make sure it was empty. I guess they figured that everyone

would keep travelling, and the authorities at the slide couldn't see us because
we
were miles up the road.)

I figured something was wrong because Hwy. 50 is a comparatively important
artery between Lake Tahoe and the outside world. We waited another hour before I

decided to put on the rest of my ski clothes over the stuff I was already
wearing. This is when I found out that sweet little Antonio only had a shaving

kit and his laptop in his carry-on. He told me that his dad had everything and

that he was supposed to pick his stuff up at the consignor once we arrived. (Oh

great!)

I'm 5'4" and at my heaviest I've never weighed more than 115 (well maybe 120 for

six months back in the eighth grade). Antonio on the other hand was an inch over

6 feet and probably weighed 175 lbs. (Yes he is big for his age isn't he?) Which

wasn't a problem before we got stuck in a fog blown snowstorm with sub-zero
weather all around us.

I hated doing it, but I told Antonio to put my parka on, (Which would probably

never be the same after that) and since there was absolutely no hope of him
fitting into my pants, (Damn those tight pants anyway) I had him wrap as much

spare clothing as we had around his legs. The only problem we had was that we

were both still freezing.

We talked for what seemed like days. I found out that Andy (yes he preferred
that
to Antonio) was a musician, and that his dad didn't like that one bit. I found

out that he thought of himself as a square peg being forced into a round hole.

(His words, not mine) And that he wanted nothing more than his father's approval

for what he was, not for what his father wanted him to be.

I could identify with that. Not that my folks harassed me or anything. They had

my older sister Amy for that. I was the angelic fair-haired child compared to

her. (Amy did things like sending naked pictures of herself out on the Internet,

and then getting caught when a friend of the family told dad about it.) The
point
is, Andy and I were connecting, I was starting to think there was a brain behind

those handsome "blank" eyes of his.

But inevitably, being a teenage boy, Andy brought the subject around to sex. We

were talking about the Internet and where the company's future was heading when

little Andy said. "You know I probably have the worlds largest collection of
pornography on my computer." I raised an eyebrow and asked, "What kind of
pornography are we talking about little man?"

"Nude pictures and dirty sex stories." He looked me straight in the eyes waiting

for me to be shocked and horrified. I just smiled my most innocent smile and
asked him, "Do you have any with you on your laptop?" I think he was shocked
that
a female would ask him a question like that, instead of being indignant.

"Uh, yah I do, you what to see some?" He asked, a little worried now.

I asked him how many pictures and how many stories he had in his collection. He

proudly told me that he had hundreds. He had peaked my curiosity -- it's not
everyday you meet a fellow erotic items collector in real life.

Andy pulled his laptop out and turned it on. He began coyly to bring up picture

after picture. I was surprised at the screen quality. (My laptop has a liquid

crystal screen and pictures don't look that great on it.) I could quickly tell

that little Andy was a "doggy-style" man. It seemed that just about all his
pictures where of couples having sex doggy-style. (It still amazes me that some

people can get so caught up in one thing to the exclusion of all the other good

stuff in the world.)

After seeing some of his collection of pictures I could tell that he was
becoming
aroused. (This I didn't need.) But at the same time his computer was sitting in

my lap, and it was nice and warm. I was in heaven, I couldn't believe he didn't

know that I was getting all this great heat. If I told him I didn't want to see

anymore of his pictures he would probably turn the computer off. I definitely

didn't want him to do that. So we continued to look at his adolescent
dreamscapes for another hour until his computer started to beep a low battery

warning. Disappointed but somewhat warmed I watched him turn it off and stow it

in his carry-on.

Andy had surprised me with his "guy" collection just before the battery warning

went off. He had a nice collection of men, and I had to admit that I was just a

little warmer than I would have been otherwise, from looking at them. I've
always
loved to look at naked men. (Not that I've had all that many chances to do it.)

It took Jeff a little while to get used to me always asking him to take his
clothes off. As far as I'm concerned, if the heats up in the apartment, there's

no reason that he has to wear clothes. And he looks so nice naked.

We sat for another hour in the cold when I realized that I had to pee, and it

quickly became an urgent dilemma for me. I think that if I'd been alone I might

have just used the Burger King Coke cup sitting in its holder, but with Andy in

the car this was out of the question. Finally I said, "I gotta pee, I'll be
right
back." I was gone for no more that a couple of minutes taking care of my urgent

business, when I opened the car door and jumped back in the drivers seat; I was

instantly ready to knock little Andy Pascoe's block off. His dad might be my
boss, but the little shit had dug my computer out of my carry-on and was running

it, warming his lap. "HEY! BOZO! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I
yelled in my most commanding tone.

He looked up at me with a beatific smile on his face and said two words that
stopped me in my tracks. "Kristen's collection." I was speechless. I'd never
thought about the consequences of having someone actually find out *who* I am.

Thoughts about being fired from my job, about this little jerk telling the whole

world *who* I am. I mean he had access to my home address, my home phone. Then

he said, "Guess I didn't even know what I was talking about, did I? So you're

Kristen huh. Who'da guessed?" He just stared at me as my computer battery
started
beeping. "You ought to keep it charged better," he said as he shut it down.

"I was using it on the plane, now give it here. If you say anything to anyone

I'll have to have you murdered. I hope you know that!?"

Andy just smiled back at me and said, "I hadn't thought about it, but this does

give me a little power in our relationship doesn't it?"

"Relationship? We don't have a relationship. You're just a twerpy snoop who
should have his legs broken at the knees." I knew that I probably sounded pretty

stupid, but I was flustered and had no idea what to do.

"God, it's cold in here. I don't think you have to worry about me saying
anything, we're going to freeze to death tonight anyway. I'm starting to worry

whether we're going to make it." His teeth were beginning to chatter from the

cold now. If the truth be known I was worried too. Not so much about dying, but

frostbite was a real threat.

"Come on, we have to get in the back of the truck. If we lie down beside each

other and cover ourselves with everything we have maybe our combined body heat

will give us a little warmth." It's all I could think of to say. Ever since I
had
gone outside to pee, I hadn't been able to get warm again. I was starting to
loose the feeling in my toes, and the last thing I wanted was frozen toes.

We climbed into the back of the Blazer and threw all my spare clothes on top of

us. I rolled over on my side and told Andy to spoon me. "And don't get any
stupid
adolescent ideas either." I thought I'd better throw that cautionary in for good

measure.

After what seemed like weeks I looked at my ladies Swiss Army watch; it glowed

back at me, almost mockingly. We'd only been laying there for less than twenty

minutes. My toes were completely numb now. I could feel the cold creeping up my

legs. I was so cold by then that I knew I wouldn't even be able to walk. Not
that
there was any place to walk to.

I asked Andy, "How do you feel?"

"I'm really cold, and what's worse; now I'm cold and I'm horny. Do you have any

idea what laying like this is doing to me?" His voice cracked on the word
"this".
Normally I'd good-naturally tease him about his voice, but at the moment I was
in
pain.

Slowly I came to the realization that we were in terrible trouble here. If
someone didn't come down the road soon, we might both be damaged for life. I
could just picture my feet with no toes, and myself hobbling around on stumps
for
the rest of my life. That vision sparked me into action.

The same thought kept running through my head. It was a saying a girlfriend of

mine used to say a lot. "Have you ever noticed that when you're having sex that
a
head-cold, or an allergy seems to go away. It's like while you're 'doing it'
your
body corrects any malfunction, or your mind regulates the body to make it feel

better." She used to think that this theory proved that everything was based on

mind over matter.

A little hesitantly I asked Andy, "How do your feet feel?" He responded in a
muffled voice, "Like needles are being stuck in them. I'm so cold I don't think

I'll be able to take it much longer."

With a resigned sigh, I reached my hand behind me and cupped his crotch. "How

does this feel?" I asked.

"Hey!" he yelped, his voice breaking again in his surprise.

I could feel his body jump when my fingers gripped him through his pants. Many

thoughts ran through my mind right then. All the reasons why I shouldn't be
doing
this, and almost as quickly I answered myself with the arguments why I should.
'I
shouldn't do this because it would be cheating on Jeff. ' I answered that
problem
quickly with the argument that he would understand the situation called for
drastic methods.' Then I thought, 'I don't have any condoms', and just as
quickly my brain manufactured the obvious answer that 'Andy was obviously a
virgin so I wouldn't catch anything from him'. Then, boom, another problem;
'You'll get fired if his dad finds out that you fucked his little pride and
joy',
of course that argument against death or dismemberment was easy to overcome.
Soon
I had reconciled myself to what I was going to do.

Slowly I began to massage Andy through the material of his pants. He quieted
down
for a bit and just lay there and let me feel him. But soon he began writhing
around behind me. The thought occurred to me that I wasn't doing this just to
get
him off. We needed to generate serious body heat, and for both of us. But at the

same time I knew that Andy wouldn't last very long the first time either. So I

rolled over facing him and started to kiss him on the lips. (I love kissing
guys.
It's even better than dancing with them, and I LOVE to dance.) It never fails to

get me going, when I kiss a guy, even Andy. And I very badly needed to get
myself
in the *mood* for what I knew must to be done.

He was kissing me back now. I could just barely make out his face in the dark as

we kissed. His eyes were closed tight and he had this desperate look on his
face.
I could tell he was lost in the sensations of the moment. It was very touching
to
see his urgency. I kept my eyes open and watched him responding to me.

After a short while I steeled myself for the next step. Andy needed to get that

first orgasm out of the way, and I didn't want to have to lay in his wet spots

for the rest of the night. That left me with a decision: which way to take him.

I decided quickly, and reached with both hands to unfasten his pants. I figured

that he would last about ten seconds and I didn't want him spurting all over
everything just in case he couldn't hold it.

Pants unfastened, boner out and waving. I shut my eyes and kissed it. Then I was

worried that if I messed around he'd make that mess I didn't want all over me.
So
I did one of my Jeff specials. Jeff likes it best when I just give him lip
friction in fast deep dives, then on the withdrawal he likes it when I swirl my

tongue on the underside and at the little flange at the head. I do that ten or

twelve times then I take him in my hands and slowly jack his long wang, then the

dives again. I repeat that until he can't hold back any more and I either take

him internally, or I let him shoot all over the place. I only do that when I
want
to reward him for something he's done really nice for me, otherwise I'm a little

more selfish about sex.

With little Andy it only took three dives and he was groaning and jerking around

underneath me. I was enjoying myself for a moment. Until all those thoughts
popped into my mind as Andy pumped his sperm down my throat. I was *cheating* on

Jeff. Then the next moment I was mad at *Jeff* for making me feel guilty. Didn't

he want me to stay alive and in one piece? It's not like I was going to run away

with this kid or anything. (Isn't it' funny how we can turn the blame around for

anything when the occasion warrants?)

I kept swallowing Andy's sperm; I was beginning to find it hard to keep
swallowing. I felt a little bloated by the time he had his last spasm in my
mouth. Even though I was a little queasy from taking so much of a strange guys

spunk, I was *glad* that it wasn't freezing on our skin, or on the carpet
beneath
us.

Andy's eyes were still closed, and my hand was still on his nice looking cock. I

took the opportunity to look at his pole as it stuck out of the fly of his
pants.
It had the nicest shape. I've only seen a few guys in real life, but his was one

of the nicest real life weenies I'd ever seen. It was kind of thick and probably

about five inches long - but it was so sculptured. I'm not making a lot of sense

am I? I guess you had to be there to know what I'm talking about.

Although I felt a little better blood circulation-wise, my toes were still numb,

and I knew that I needed some real exertion myself, and I knew what I would have

to do to make that happen. So I unzipped my black ski pants and pulled one leg

off. Andy was lying on his back watching me struggle with my pants. He looked

amused, the little crud. I knew that I would lose body heat by taking my pants

off, but couldn't figure out any other way to do what I had in mind with them

on. I also knew that I needed to be on top if I wanted to get my circulation
flowing properly.

After I'd tugged my pants off one leg and then put on one pant-leg of another

outfit on my other leg, I had the essential area bare while at the same time
keeping my legs covered from the cold.

I can not lie; I was dripping with anticipation. My sex life had been focused

on Jeff for the past 18 months. And before that with two other guys, and that
had
been only sporadically. So this was new and exciting to me no matter how much I

wanted to pretend that it was a life saving exercise. I knelt beside Andy and

unbuttoned his pants and opened his fly completely. Then I tugged at his
waistband, pulling his pants part way down his thighs.

YES! He really looked wonderful. What I could see of his stomach was so tight.
He
didn't have a lot of hair on his body, and reminded me a little of a muscular

female, except that his cock was fully hard and waiting for me. I didn't want to

wait any longer. I knew I was wet enough for him so I straddled his body and
took
his shiny cock in my hand, and sank down on it.

Again I have a confession to make: he felt wonderful inside me. His thick cock

filled me so completely. I started to ride him immediately; you couldn't have

stopped me at that moment if his father had shown up knocking on the window.

Andy was watching me. I could tell even with my eyes closed. I was thrusting my

hips forward, not raising up, just like a lady bronco rider, rubbing myself
against him, feeling him inside me. It had been so long since I'd felt the
thrill
of sex with a strange man. Guiltily I thought of Jeff, then I thought about how

it had been with Jeff the first time. I had seduced him on the balcony of my
little apartment. I remembered how good it had felt to have Jeff on top of me

that lazy afternoon. To have his strong Nordic cock thrusting deep inside me.


"Ooooohhhh GOD! YES!" I was coming on top of Andy in one of the most intense
orgasms I think I've ever had. The thought of fucking Jeff, while I was really

doing it to Andy just seemed to push me over the edge. I could feel my body
shivering on top of Andy's. He was gasping as I rammed him as deep as I could

inside me. He felt so good!

I could see his stomach muscles working as he thrust back at me. He looked as if

he couldn't catch his breath and began to gasp for air. As he raised his upper

body to hug me I knew he was having his own orgasm deep inside me. The thought
of
a strange man coming in me brought on another more leisurely orgasm as I
continued to lovingly rub myself against him, taking him as deep as he would go.


He held on to my neck for almost a full minute before falling back to the floor

of the Blazer with a sigh that told me he was done. I leaned forward and kissed

him, making sure he didn't fall out of me while we embraced.

As we kissed I realized that my toes felt perfectly normal again. In fact I
felt rudely flushed and perfectly healthy. As I looked up, I noticed that the

windshield was completely fogged up, and realized that I was warm. Then I
calculated how long we would keep our pleasant afterglow. I figured that maybe
we
would be OK for about a half-hour or so. Looking at my watch I noticed that it

was 1AM.

Hmmm, at this rate we're going to be awfully tired tomorrow. Let's see, it's
1AM,
a half hour of warm blood circulation... say 7AM before dawn, and maybe 8 before

anyone gets down here, lets see how many times will we have to. . .?


It was almost 8 o'clock in the morning before a snowplough came down the road
with
the highway patrol following behind. The patrolman was amazed that we were so
fit
after the night we'd obviously had to endure. The patrolman fixed our fuse, and

let us go on our way.

Both Andy and I dragged through the Wednesday morning meetings. His father let
us
go after the noon break because we looked so tired. I let Andy stay with me that

afternoon, but only as a special good-bye for both of us. We'll always be
special
friends, and I don't think I have to worry about him giving secrets away
anymore.
I now have Andy on my story list. He'll be getting this as a matter of fact.
(I've encouraged him to write the same story from his perspective and hope he

does, it would be interesting to read.)

Oh and one more thing. I kicked some butt on the slopes Saturday. Even though my

ski outfit looked a little rumpled.

 




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