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ut I cradled
the bottle of Mirrasou red zinfandel carefully in my left arm. Nervously I
rapped on the door. Voices inside. The door opened and I was sure that my
heart with its pounding would either stop or flee from my chest. I gazed
upon a blonde beauty holding the door, looking expectantly at me. Behind
her stood, a perfectly tanned and lovely raven haired woman. Catching my
breath, I smiled and said "Did someone request a very 'special' barber?"
Referring to my alias on the computer as "Pussy Barber".
The ladies were looking at a thirty-fiveish, bespectacled, man with a
moustache and dressed semi-casually. His brown hair beginning to lighten
with glances of gray, his brown eyes sparkling as he smiled. Average height,
and broad shouldered, his form indicated a collegiate wrestler or football
player. His smile bespoke of a causal friendliness that seemed contagious.
Lena invited me into the room, and I offered the wine as token thanks for
at least letti
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