1. Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers


    Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: TheScheherezadeFeint, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    speaks. “I just don't understand. How could this have happened so suddenly? We know he wouldn't do it just like that. There must have been some signs that you're not telling us about.” ...And that's it. Like the moment when a viola is tightened too far and it must decide whether to break the string, or the neck. Unwilling to give her my neck again – quite sick of buying new instruments in fact – I just reach out, and toss her mimosa in her face. Then mine. Then my sister's. My father attempts to finish his quickly, but I snatch it from him, spilling a little of it on her before dropping the glass and breaking it. Standing in my place, I hold my ground, eyes on fire. Stunned silence hangs in the room like a cloud; over our table and every other. She stands, slaps me hard in the face and turns. As she does, my sister, stands and follows her. My father stands, looks me in the eye and says, “I'm really, really sorry about what happened,” he pauses, “I am, but you shouldn't have done that,” then follows her as well. Moments later a waiter comes over to help clean up the mess, accompanied by a higher ranked member of the hotel staff, who very politely asks us to leave. I can only assume his demeanor is so civil because he knows what happened last night. My friends apologize for me and usher me away from the disaster area, promising to gather my things and handle the bill when I'm in a state to do so. “What just happened?” I ask Ursula, “Did I really just do that?” “I'm afraid so,” ...
    she tells me, “Sorry.” “No. No, it's fine. I'm just asking.” “Good. Because that's a thing that happened,” she says, “You want to stay with us for a while?” “I guess,” I say, looking over to Matt and acknowledging him with a wink, “It's not like I was ever going to stay with them anyway.” “Okay. Glad that's settled. Where to?” “I have an idea,” Matt says. Looking to him again with trust in my eyes, I say “Lead on.” The group of us head toward the exit, watched by the staff. Nearly the second we leave, I'm knocked flat on my back, and find myself looking straight at the sky, wondering what in the bleeding hell is going on. Once again, I make eye contact with a friend. “What the hell?” “Oh, shit,” Ursula says, “Are you okay, sweetie? Come on, let me help.” I'm fine, just dazed. A little breathless, but mostly just wanting for answers. “What happened. Was that a cyclist. And was she naked?” “Is that today?” Ursula asks. Moments later, at least a hundred more bicycles tear around the corner, most the riders completely naked. A few had underwear on, and some were painted, but a swarm of curves, breasts, dicks and asses flew by us in a storm of exposed flesh and spinning gears. Ursula and Jasmine help me to my feet and I take in the sight fully. It's really something to see every year. I'd completely forgotten about it this time around, for fairly obvious reasons. I haven't ridden in it since college, but at least now I have another story from the naked bike race. - - - “And that's ...
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