http://borderlinefirearms.com/wp-content/uploads/fgallery/google.php?young11.gif

New Email Address

Hello everyone!

 

My email has changed to alliglasgow@gmail.com.  Please update your address books.  Thank you!!!

--

Allison W. Glasgow

Thirty-One Independent Consultant

http://www.mythirtyone.com/allisun

931*698*8848

Hot, hard, and fast - Adult Content

It was a hot summer day in middle Tennessee. The sun was high in the sky. The heat index was through the roof. He had come to follow her home to just spend time with her. They could watch the grass grow, he didn't care. As long as he could touch her, smell her scent, and be lucky enough to maybe kiss her sweet lips. He was a working man, and appropriately filthy from his endeavors. As she walked across the parking lot to meet him both heart rates increased. He was leaning against his truck, sweat beading his brow. His light hair was a sharp contrast to his very tan skin. His t-shirt tucked into work jeans were both smudged with dirt and grime. His work boots were so filthy she wondered if they had ever originally been one solid color. She loved that about him. He leaned with his arms crossed over his chest, strong hands holding his biceps, the picture of relaxation and anticipation. His eyes caught her and he simply watched her walk to him. She was in professional dress, a suit and heels. He sunglasses hid her look of pleasure at walking towards him. He watched her. Her dark hair fell thick and shiny over her forehead and across her shoulders. She walked with a grace that belied how clumsy he knew she was. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, the heat making it that much harder to breathe. Her calves were beautiful, leading down to her heels that made the entire look worth a second glance.



She walked up to him, taking him in. Without thinking, she reached up and kissed him. She didn't care who saw her. She was in love, although she hadn't quite acknowledged it yet. He walked her to her car, seated her in, and leaned in to kiss her again. She wasn't wearing panties. He found out when he slid his work roughened hand up her thigh under her silky skirt. He groaned in appreciation and frustration. There was no way he could enjoy her like he'd like here, in this parking lot, in front of her office, where he was almost positive someone was watching them. He quickly kissed her once more and went to his own vehicle to follow her. Traffic was awful, they got stuck for almost an hour. To liven up the drive home she took full advantage of his pulling up beside her. She slid her car into park, slid her skirt up to her hips, and he almost climbed out of his truck window. As her fingers glided over hear breasts, down the curve of her stomach, and to her thighs, he thought he would explode. When she dipped her fingers inside her depths, then brought them to her lips to taste, he damn near did. Mercifully traffic began moving and he was fast on her trail.



They arrived at her home and she immediately went to change out of her suit. She re-emerged in a little white tennis skirt and a tank top. As if she didn't have his attention already, she certainly did now. They ran some errands and were both so spun up she found a little corner of her neighborhood she used to use and they parked the car and were immediately upon each other. Arms tangled, mouths meshed, hands ran over hot skin, desperately seeking fulfillment they knew wouldn't find. Finally she pulled away, steadied her breathing, and started the car. Never had she ever felt magnetism like this. This attraction defied anything she'd ever thought was possible. He was her drug, and she was addicted.



The time finally came for him to go. He wasn't happy about it, but neither was she. She walked him outside and he grabbed her for a goodbye kiss. The pent up frustration from the afternoon exploded. He was leaning against the truck, the door open, her arms entwined around his neck. She ran her hands down his strong chest, reveling in the feel of the muscles rippling under her touch. She couldn't take it anymore. She reached down and jerked his belt loose from the fastenings. She reached in and took his shaft in her hand. He was hot and silky smooth. She groaned against his mouth. She had to have him. NOW. She reached her hands in the truck. She wrapped one hand around the steering wheel. She slid him into her as she reached up and grabbed the head rest of the drivers seat. Their lips were locked together, with her feet supporting herself on the rails of the truck. Harder and faster they moved until he couldn't hold back anymore. He exploded inside her and she clenched around him, finally feeling her own release. She held on just a few more minutes, savoring the fall back to earth. She stood back up, kissed him once more, and left him in the driveway dazed. Until next time that would have to hold them.

Whew

I feel like I should be sad. My baby started kindergarten today. I'm not. I'm extremely proud of how far we've come and how well she did. I didn't shed one tear. I did swell with pride as I watched her dress herself and help me pack her lunch. And then when we got her settled and walked out of the room? She never even looked up. I am so very proud of the job I've done. It's milestones like this and how we handle them that makes me realize we've come a long way baby. I finished college, earned my degree. I persevered through long semesters, expensive childcare, and a crappy job. I persevered through a divorce. I found love again. And somewhere along the way I've managed to mold my child into an acceptable, well behaved, adorable kid. So tonight, I raise a glass to us.

I ran across this blog as well from way back then. Back when we were still testing the waters, getting to know each other, trying to ensure this was what we wanted. I love looking back and seeing how far we've come.

Sent: Friday, August 17, 2007 11:54:12 AM
Shedaisee wrote:

Didn't want this online for view. It's attached.

Last night we talked a lot. Talked about a lot of things. He took care of the things he needed to to "cut ties" and if she calls again he promised to make it clear that she is not to call again. I, in turn, am about to email and tell him we are not going to be able to have any kind of relationship at all. That is for the best. He continues to "learn" me in the art of relationships. I got very mad last night, lashed out and said things that hurt him. I immediately apologized but he had been hurt. I was hurt too though. I, again, thought he was leaving. Things were getting tough. I've learned through experience that things get tough and someone leaves. Yes, my parents have been married over 35 years, but every 7 years or so my mom threatens to file for divorce and is serious about it. My marriage, my past relationships, all of those have taught me that "lasting relationships" are things that don't exist. It boggles my mind that they do. Or maybe I am subconsciously trying to run him off so it won't hurt as much when I think he really does leave? I thought about that last night and realized that I CANNOT do that. He is the best thing that's ever happened to my life, time line be damned, I have to hold onto him as a treasure to be lost, and must treat him as such, just as he treats me that way.
On a somewhat comical note, we did talk about our past marriages and honeymoons. Interesting stuff, really. I fell asleep in his arms, I woke up in his arms, and then he made sweet love to me. He asked me if I loved him. I told him yes. He said, "Then believe me." I do. It's as simple as that.

From: Girlfriend
To: Shedaisee; Other Girlfriend
Subject: Re: Input?... Updated

"He is the best thing that's ever happened to my life, time line be damned, I have to hold onto him as a treasure to be lost, and must treat him as such, just as he treats me that way."

**SOBS**

Believe him.

I thought you would want to know

Ran across this from August of 2007. He wrote it back when we were both blogging on another site. Enjoy.

From: Intri
To: Shedaisee
Sent: Wednesday, August 8, 2007 7:59:18 PM
Subject: thought you would wanna know I wrote this.

I slipped quietly into her bed, gently slid between the sheets and drew myself close to her body. Snuggling and spooning her as I so love. I adore the feeling of our bodies pressed together and I know she does as well. I could feel her stirring. My arms wrapped around her waist and her hands slid to mine. She pushed herself back to me pressing firmly, her desire to become closer. Her head tilted sideways and I took the opportunity to press my lips to her neck, then along her shoulders and she was responding. My mouth traced across her arms kissing, nibbling, stopping at the wrists relishing in the taste of her skin.

My Fingers delighted in the feel of her underneath them. They traveled delicately around her waist, slipping to her stomach. She rolled back to me our lips met very tenderly. Tongues licked across lips, artistically they formed and the bond was sealed. Attuned to each others needs a familiarity of each others bodies created a passion to feed the cravings of b oth.

The quiet in the house and the rising heartbeats created a rythmic pulse you could HEAR. Perfect synchronicity was mathced as flesh began to form a coupling where each moment brought rippling sensations of pleasure and desire was finally afforded it's peace as I slid inside her depths. Arms close around another firmly, her back arches, I press myself closer still. Movements are measured and paced so as to feel each and every pulse, every place touched accentuated by the sweetness of the moment.

We continue for an unknown time content in just being in this moment. The orgasmic release not even cared for, for the journey IS the destination

I hate you. Happy Father's Day

I hate you. I just feel like telling you. I hate how you make me feel guilty for all the things that aren't really wrong or incorrect. I hate how I let you make me feel inadequate and unworthy because you always have. I hate that you have that power over me. I hate how you were always concerned about the minute details of life and not enjoying life with your girls. I hate how you made my mom write us a letter apologizing for undermining your authority when you weren't ever there to be a real father. I hate how you were a workaholic. I hate how you weren't there for most of the important things in my life. And when you were you cut out early or made me feel guilty that you had to be there. I hate you for waking me up in the middle of the night to fill up the ice trays. I hate you for waking me up in the middle of the night to straighten my wet washcloth so it would dry evenly. I hate how you would passive aggressively throw things away rather because I was a kid and I didn't realize your huffing and puffing equaled you were angry that things were left out those few hours you were home to notice them. I hate you for making me afraid to try to do simple things on my own in front of men because it was never right. I hate you for making me afraid to figure simple things out on my own like how to sweep efficiently, or hammer, or shovel because you were always there behind me telling me I wasn't doing it right and this was the correct way. I hate you for making me this way so that Intri gets frustrated with me when we work together. We are a great team but you're always there in the background, telling me I'm not good enough and I'm not doing it right. Hell, I hate the fact that you think you're superior and right all the damn time. I hate that you're not open to any opinion but yours because you KNOW you're right. I hate that you shoved church and God down my throat so that I feel guilty for EVERY teeny tiny thing I do. I hate that I was never good enough. I hate that I was never pure enough. I hate that I never fit your mold of a "perfect daughter" even though I exhausted myself trying to. Exhausted myself so much that I was on antidepressants at sixteen. I hate that you wouldn't let the doctor put me on birth control when I was young because of my painful periods. I hate that I had to suffer eleven years before I could talk to a doctor about my issues and get REAL medical help. I hate you for damaging my fertility by ignoring the medical treatment I so desperately needed. I hate you for instilling in me a desire to work all the time and a guilt for playing anytime. You said it yourself, mom and you did a REAL good job of teaching us to work, but a shitty job of teaching us to play. How about no job at all? Yes, I'm angry. Yes, I'm bitter. I come by that honestly enough. I hate that you feel you're well within your rights to continue to try to raise me and my daughter. I'm 27 years old. You had your chance. It's too late now. I hate you for making me think I'm not worthy because I don't fit your ideal. Here's a newsflash: I never did. I never fit in. I was your odd duckling. And instead of recognizing and nurturing that in me, you shunned it. You insisted I conform. You made me feel like I wasn't worth living at all because I never was what you wanted me to be. Straight As I worked my ass off for got a "that's nice". Working my ass off at everything I did was never enough. "There's always work to do. I don't ever want to see you standing around with your hands in your pockets." To this day I can't rest with my hands in my pockets. I hate you for thinking you were right to push my mom down in front of me and my baby sister. I hate you for thinking you were right to kick my baby sister out of your way during an argument with mom. I hate you for being an overbearing, always right, never wrong, emotionally abusive individual who spent more time with other people's children at school than you ever did at home.



That's enough negativity for today. I have two beautiful little children that are playing the rainy day away upstairs, a home that needs to be cleaned, and a wonderful spousal unit on his way home to me. Then we'll spend a day working together, as equals, doing whatever it is we want to do TOGETHER EQUALLY. We'll feed from each others strengths and off set each others weaknesses, and when we lay down tonight in the same bed, happy? We'll still love each other as much as the first time we said it to each other. My life is not your life. It is not your choices. It is my life and my choices. And if you can't meet me halfway and still enjoy a relationship with me, that's your problem. I hate it for you.



You made me the woman I am today. You made me strong. You made me resilient. You made me unapologetic. You made me a survivor. I hope you're gratified. Happy Father's Day.