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Women had better insurance too, and then there was the rumor that lots of guys were turning up in communes or worse, work farms, some run by unscrupulous divas, leaving us bachelors in short supply, though the lesbian conditioning and new sex aids helped a lot towards relieving the stress and in spite of our short supply, still left us diminishing in power on all sorts of social and economic levels. Just for fun, I tried to turn it off again, and again it stuck on, the mini-corner-view of me wiggling to find a relevant icon. I can see that you've just logged into Itinerate Counter-Culture.
I'd be five hours trying to get it off again, I understood, as I smiled at the camera lens, which incidentally, was the same thing as my multi-D monitor. What kind of kinky thing has my brother got in his bio?
She chuckled, somehow knowing how to do that like Betty Boop by typing it. I have another call," I said, seeing the call blooper beeping, this one beeping without sound, me continually perplexed about what sounds worked, and what ones didn't and when and how? Six divorces suggest, by our studies, that you may be entering into an area of your life where you are seeking something beyond the ordinary, and your bio is perfect for our longest, most exciting and thus free programs. In a way, it's not really you that we take on; it's your alter-ego, so it's OK to be whatever you've always wanted to be with our service, all without the slightest risk." Did I tell you that her lips, the way they moved, well, they were a little confusing?
What we are talking about here is a win-win solution for us, Joe. " She answered, "It's weird, I know, but the best product on our table is the cheapest and only available for those who sign up right away; an exclusive offer, you see. We can't pay the same for that because our needs are not as perfectly matched, and besides, you'd be a less satisfied employee. Right out of your records and bio; stuff you don't even know about." "OK, I guess. You'll be signing a legal wavers of sexual preference declaration, in effect, so we need to be a bit legal here.
Future Domme Chapter 1 by Counterparts199 "Come on baby. " Joe flipped the channel changer, "Charlie's Dark Angels," were on channel 487, always seemingly a rerun.
The man, hairy chested, pot bellied, in nothing but a big, white, syntho-cotton diaper, hesitated as if in fear, but then toddled over and laid across her well dressed knee and quietly wailed big tears as she paddled him with a hairbrush. Never know when you'll have to show up your brightest whites!
We match pheromones, what man can pass up ..." I hit the anti-spam icon, and it faded away with the sound of a whip cracking. Jesus, you'd think that after sixty years of communal internet technology, a person could figure out how to stop some of the crud a person wants stopped, but hey, I still didn't even know how to get rid of the history files that the 'get rid of history files' icons couldn't get rid of, so I'd gotten to the point of putting towels over my speakers just to dampen it some. I hit the phone monitor button, and there she was, typing her words so they'd come out like Betty Boop, her favorite old time cartoon character.
Shoot, last week I'd even gotten an internet spam out of my electric socket, the whole house humming, "Come to Femworld. It struck me that the only time I ever gotten to speak with my real sister, her using her real voice, was when we met at her place to meet another one of her friends in hopes of hitching me up after my 6th divorce.
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" She started pecking around for my bio, but hey, at least the secrecy screen worked; she unable to scratch out a clue from my Alias. "I live a drab life; thank the goddess," I told her, in my own voice, my hands free. Last six rich women mind fucked me far more than any other kind of fucking, and not a one would spring for an improvement in my nano status or health plan, married or not; imagining me a throw-away on our wedding days. Remember that law against rude, sexual comments to ladies? I could scramble your voice around that fuck word, and you'd be toast. " "Sure things, sis," I said, closing the connection. I started to say something very negative, but like most of those sneaky cold calls, she was fast on her lips and had almost hypnotic green eyes, not to mention a mouth that wiggled in ways that had me wondering if I'd seen that right.