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I fulfilled the role of December at the tender age of 67.

Through the process of elimination, we had become drinking buddies at our local tavern. More often than not, we were the last people still standing when the barkeep bellowed out, "Last call for alcohol! The tavern, built in the 1890s, featured a Walnut and Mahogany bar with an odd little 'L' shaped hook at the far corner of the saloon.

Richards becomes a 'guest prisoner' of the clan's leader while she decides his fate.

The certified letter ordering our eviction was the last straw.

Our financial camel lay mortally wounded, its back broken beyond repair.

Thirst quenched for the moment, Darlene resumed her quest for tonight's bed partner. " she smiled before dispatching the last White Russian."Hell no! Still waters run deep and it didn't end well."Okay Dennis, that was a twofer," the book she was reading sailed across the room, missing my head by less than an inch."Watch it you nearly hit me! ""A twofer is the first and last time something happens. Why the fuck would I want to be named after a stagnant pond?

Her second expedition of seduction ended in bewildered frustration."What the fucking hell? " Her smile was a weird combo of mischief and annoyance. Everyone needs a hobby and sex was her diversion from work.

What a curious blend of emotions for a virtual stranger. Most of the men in the tavern looked like drop-outs from Blubber Buddies or some such weight watching group. She took a small sip and savored it like a gourmet, "Perfect! Darlene hopped down from her seat, and like Alexander the great, set out to conquer the known world. She was the Alpha-Fox loose in the hen house, radiating sexual availability like a neon sign in the night.

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" tilted her head back and wolfed it down in one long gulp. Darlene was in a class by herself and that was a problem.

I usually have to beat men off with a stick," shaking her head in disgust, she demolished another White Russian."Maybe you should offer to beat them off with a stick, you know, fifty shades of kinky? She collected orgasms like some folks collected postage stamps.

After a few months together, the real-estate development company in which Darlene had invested fifteen years of her life went belly-up, and then her last two paychecks bounced.

A few moments later, our generous drink master returned with three tall White Russians. I answered by placing my hand on her knee and mirrored her journey of exploration."Your place or mine? It was as clich as shit, but I couldn't help myself. After we moved in together, I would joke that I was 'robbing the cradle' when I took her to bed.

"One is for you and the other two are honor guards for the dead soldiers," he pointed to the two empty glasses."I love this drink," she inhaled the beverage, chugging it down in one long gulp. How can anyone love a drink without taking the time to appreciate the subtle by-play of flavors? " Darlene laughed as she raised her index finger and traced a point on the invisible blackboard in the air. She would always laugh and respond, "I guess that would make me a grave robber."Two things attracted me to Darlene. She was so easy going that I once tried to give her the nickname, Lake Placid.

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