
JASMINE 1-844-332-2639 ext 262
“Jasmine?” I turned my head and saw the boy approaching my secluded table. “I would have recognized you anywhere,” he said, “you look exactly like your photos.” Men, boys, they always look at me this way, as though I am creature not quite of this world. Well, perhaps there is some truth in that. I am different than anyone I know and therefore, fit in no place.
I motioned for him to have a seat, and he did so.It was late Thursday evening and my husband Edward was once again out of town for the weekend, “It’s business pal,” he said, “can’t be helped.” At this point in my life I no longer cared. Not really. Come or go, stay or leave, it was inconsequential. The turns my life had taken in just a short period of time, why it had been less than one year since I first took a lover behind my husband’s back. Then another. Then another. My marital indiscretions had ignited in me a fire that could not be extinguished, a thirst for sex that was unquenchable. I wanted it all. And what I wanted, I took.
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