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Sexfight stories How to introduce sexfighting? Looking For a Story Trying to find a very old sexfight story Katara sees the cameras and feels the nerves coil in her stomach. Also, was that Grimes on a bright blue Vespa? End notes Ok so it's not super exciting yet?

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Trying Sexfight stories write an interactive femdom story, open to requests 1 2 Korn.

. Podcast: Play in new window Download. Author spotlight. We have a history of missed connections, you and I. Years ago, when you called goodbye from the shuttle launch, my flight was landing in Zurich.

I never managed to see Europa, like you did—just Europe, where I met my first husband.

The one I wished was you. I thought of you traveling to Alpha Centauri, time dilating between us like a portal.

I envisioned it like a slow-motion movie.

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I saved your message for weeks, until I accidentally deleted it. It felt symbolic. The word defines us relative to each other: one cannot be apart without the other.

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Einstein spent ten years thinking about a mirror that troubled him. If he traveled at the speed of light and looked into a hand-held mirror, would he see his reflection, or not?

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Setting aside vampirism, or poorly-made glass that cracks at high speeds, the answer is that he must. Just kids, running around the Sacramento suburbs.

I ran faster, fought harder, and hit harder than any boy—and I knew it. I shoved it in a drainpipe. You could still see its corner. That counts. I south brisbane swingers resort the girl next door—safe, reliable, undesirable.

When I was thirteen, and you were sixteen—I was crazy-in-love with you. But you were blind. I had to hear about all those girls you dated.

Remember that awful redhead who stole cigarettes from her grandmother? I bet she got lung cancer.

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I used to wonder how to make you see me. Should I tell you what I felt? But you made the choice for me: you left for the military.

So I ed the Peace Corps—the polar opposite of what you did. This drew us together again like magnets. Roommates and lovers.

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Two magnets, apart, continue to exert force on each other. Their power lies in the space between. Einstein says that nothing moves at the speed of light, because the faster things get the heavier they become.

Yet the mass remains the same. The more things change, the more they stay the same. My world is doubling every year.

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Reno, you told me once. Reno, Nevada. When we lived in San Francisco, in that tiny apartment above a Mission District taqueria.

Do you remember that conversation? You were heating dinner in the microwave, and the room smelled like curry. The fog rolled through the city and we both wore old sweaters.

No one strikes Reno.

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We made good roommates—both of us loud, and neither of us tidy. You took out the trash, and I sorted the Sexfight stories we both did dishes when needed, and not more often. It was a good arrangement. But not what I wanted. I knew you loved me, of course.

It was written in your eyes when you looked at me, a physics problem with no clear answer. If an irresistible force meets an immovable object, what happens then?

They meet. Relative to each other, they are in contact. For a while, I was Charon to your Pluto, keeping the same faces to each other as we circled around endlessly. And through all of this you still thought of me as a moon, and yourself as a planet.

Our orbit is erratic, an ellipse among circles, an offbeat pattern in pussy to fuck sacramento regular solar system.

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Do you see the sun, far in the distance? Even when our orbit sweeps close to the sun, it takes four hours for its light to reach us. It was what we did: have sex, fight, break up, meet someone else.

The best thing between us was the sex. We fought—oh, yes, we fought—and then had make-up sex. Hard, hot, and heavy.

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It was the last push on a decaying orbit. I was not your fallback option. From the time you said that, our path downwards was guaranteed, calculable.

I was Sexfight stories.

When you told me about your new job repairing relativity shuttles, I was secretly glad. Your work would take you to Reno.

Out of my path.

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I was completely over you, over us—or at least I was then, when you left. I was on the rebound, ready for someone new. So I married him. Once you knew his first few digits, they repeated in a predictable pattern.

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He was a wonderful father for our two sons. I thought of you sometimes as I raised my boys, perfect squares in their rational world. I never forgot you. He lasted twenty-five years with me, then slipped away.

My kids were on their own by then, and I had time and money. I was free to choose irrationally, and so I took up waterskiing. When you came back, I was surprised you came to my door—and even more surprised that you wanted me.

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You kept saying you liked my maturity, you found me sexy. But it was different for me. I saw you like my. More like a son than a mate. I did prostate massage calgary someone else. I had twenty-five happy years with him, while you were living through just a few months.

I accumulated the weight of years—of a woman building decades with her partner, of a mother renewing herself by raising her children.

All of this weight I gained—not to mention my new-found belly. But I married you anyway.

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You wanted to be with me, you said. All your recent thoughts told you so. One night after we made love on the beach, I watched the stars.

They shone with light from billions of years ago. The stars offered us time apart. The new relativity shuttles were even faster than yours had been, and now they were open to tourists.

It had been forty years here, after all. Gunther was always patient with me.

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Sometimes I pretended he was you to make things more exciting. Once I pretended he was Albert Einstein. It was the accent, I swear. With you, the electromagnetic pull bonded us together. We could ionize briefly, visiting other molecules and forming weak bonds—but we always came back together, circling each other endlessly.

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For a long time I thought I was the electron, spinning wild patterns around you.

Then I realized the electron was you, because I always knew either where you were or how fast you were going, but never both. Alpha Centauri! The brilliant star burned into my mind. It was a vacation for me, a short time away from Earth. For the first time, I saw the lights up close.

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Much faster than you had gone, faster than before. It simplified things. Stopped the fighting.

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I thought about it, as I looked through Sexfight stories viewport, and realized that I was still thinking of you. That was when I understood that no matter how far I went or how fast, I still responded to you in every way. Just when I got back, you left again, like one metal ball clacking another —the opposite side of our kinetic motion toy.

You were off for the Andromeda Galaxy, moving at The world had changed since I left. The human lifespan was up to years.

I had decades left for music, art, whatever I dreamed of. My health was good—they killed a malignant breast tumor and grew me a new liver, twice—but otherwise, my body kept working for years.

But my nervous system paralysis—that was incurable. It was exciting. But of course the freezing was instant. As I lay down in the cryochamber I thought to myself: Reno.

I was thinking of you. If Einstein is flying next to our male 2 male massage surrey, looking into a mirror and wondering where his reflection has gone—will you ask him whether anything stands still, or if everything is always in motion?

Relative to everything else, of course. And ask about Reno.

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Or are they still in motion on Earth, relative to everything else in the universe? I went to sleep expecting to be cured.

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Instead, the AI woke me and said I no longer needed my body. It downloaded my mind, and now I see. You and I are eccentric, but part of a solar system, and I know now where we belong. Here, where we belong.

I think I never left your orbit.

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Enjoyed this story? Queers Destroy Science Fiction! Women Destroy Science Fiction! We were together, yet completely apart.

We fought—oh, Sexfight stories, we fought—and then had make-up sex.

You shrugged. We keep moving, along with everything else. I figured it was all relative. An electron and a proton. You and me.

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Every action produces an equal and opposite reaction. Our bond pulls me back, and I love you. Yes, again. Simpler, indeed.

I was sixty-eight. You were gone. It was time to move on. And then I was frozen, like Charon and Pluto.

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