The strippers came and went from my favorite club in Denver but C stayed through the years presiding over the bar. An honest drink and an honest smile were what she offered. Yes, I loved her, but so did everyone else, and she found true love with one of the patrons. The handsome cowboy rode off with her to Texas, but not until a nice ceremony where I gave the bride away. My grandson was her ring bearer.
A decade passed and now I was on a 25-hour bus ride to Texas. Yes, C was there and met my bus. Everything in my world had changed, but not C and her sparkling blue eyes. We had lunch and then I got on the train for my convention in Dallas. At one of the stops I saw a press photographer lining up what appeared to be the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. They were glorious, but I had already seen the best. My next thought was "why did the railroad allow these girls to stand too close to the tracks?"
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last commentWhat? I thought I was fucked up.
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I read that and wanted to cry. Yes Tumblingdice, you are fucked up but mausercat might have you beat. I think he's auditioning for writing romance novels. After a 25 hour bus ride did she suck his dick? Did she bear his child. Did he splatter her chest with his seed? There's got to be more to this story. Is his beloved one of the cheerleaders? Did the train strike one of the blue harlots?
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Shit
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I hope the grandson is not a PL.
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Just a slice of life, that's all
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I enjoyed reading it. I guess it's true that the hottest chick it most clubs is the bartender, lol!
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