<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15090130</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:37:12.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down on mainstreet</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://augustthreeissuenumberone.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15090130/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://augustthreeissuenumberone.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Richard Kenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17833094206918125304</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15090130.post-113770763948693907</id><published>2006-01-19T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T09:22:55.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>issue one post two</title><content type='html'>If you want to comment write to me at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:bravenewworldjune2007@yahoo.com"&gt;bravenewworldjune2007@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At The Boat Bar" -By- Richard Kenny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter one; '2 almost-normal people'&lt;br /&gt;Brandi finished her set and, laughing, yelled; "Next case." Then she climbed down from the stage and went to the dancer's dressing room, to change into street clothes. A bit later she met me, near the bar, and we went outside to do a 'J.' Rose, one of the other dancers, was walking towards us and the bar. We were close enough to speak.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi."&lt;br /&gt;"Hi."&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want to come with us?" asked Brandi.&lt;br /&gt;"No thanks. I don't feel like wandering aimlessly."&lt;br /&gt;Wandering aimlessly was my state of mind. Rose picked up on it.&lt;br /&gt;Brandi, always a good trooper, came to my rescue.&lt;br /&gt;"There's nothing wrong with wandering aimlessly," Brandi said.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm know but I really want to do something else right now," replied Rose.&lt;br /&gt;"Allright, I'll see you later then."&lt;br /&gt;"Later."&lt;br /&gt;Rose continued on, we walked to the corner, turned into a dimy lit residential street and lit the J. As we were returning to the bar Brandi said;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, you're almost-normal and so am I."&lt;br /&gt;"You're right. We're almost-normal."&lt;br /&gt;"We're more normal than Mark," she said.&lt;br /&gt;"The guy's a riddle wrapped in an enigma."&lt;br /&gt;A few more steps and we reached an area in front of the bar.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to the dressing room and lay down for awhile," she said.&lt;br /&gt;"I'll see you later."&lt;br /&gt;We went in and walked past the bar, towards the stage. Once past the bar she cut off and went to the dressing room. I went to a table near the stage and sat down. I tuned into the 'audience-voice.' There was a dancer on the stage. She danced, before my eyes, like the flames of a fire. She'd tranced everyone in the the audience. I alone remained trance-free. All the trancees exchanged looks with all the other trancees and decided that they didn't like her.&lt;br /&gt;I bought a beer from a server.-N&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter two; 'The wannabe girl'&lt;br /&gt;She came onto the porch from the second floor and sat down in a upolstered red armchair. She faced me and the length of the porch. We were the only two there. I was standing up, facing the street, 10 feet away from her. I looked over at her as she sat down.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi."&lt;br /&gt;"Hi."&lt;br /&gt;I turned my attention back to the activity on the street. A few minutes passed, and she said;&lt;br /&gt;"I wrote a story about stripping. Do you want to see it?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure."&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, I'll go get it. I'll be back in a minute. It's really a letter. But sometimes I call it a story."&lt;br /&gt;"Allright."&lt;br /&gt;She went back into the building, for a few minutes, and returned with several photocopies of a handwritten leter.&lt;br /&gt;"You're going to like it." she said&lt;br /&gt;I took the pages from her outstretched hand and read.&lt;br /&gt;" We're at your place and have planned for me to dothis for you. I fix you a drink and tell you tosettle back in a nice easy chair while I go into thebedroom to get ready. The sound of "Material Girl" by Madonna startsand I spin into the room wearing a red camisole topand an ankle-length red formal half slip that clingsto my body and dance around far away from you, smilingbut practically ignoring you except for a few glancesnow and again. Near the end of the first song when Madonna'ssinging "A Material - a material - a material - amaterial ------ girl" I slowly peel off the slip andunderneath I have on a hot (the color, I mean) pinkhalf slip (knee length) that has a row of red bowsdown one side. In between songs I go back into the bedroom andwhen "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper comeson I come out and dance a little closer. In a minuteI'm dancing in front of you and suddenly I squat downwith my legs way far open and you can see up the slipthat I'm wearing pale pink panties. "Hi, there" I chirp, (And what would you say?) (Andplease tell me what you'd be saying all through myshow, that's your part!) Then I go up close to you, still swaying but beingpretty still, take your hand and guide it to one ofthe bows. "Give it a pull" I say and you untie it. Afteryou've pulled on all three of the bows I dance awayand open up the split up the side of the slip so as Idance my leg peeks out at you. Between songs I take off the slip and when CyndiLauper's "She Bop" begins come out in the camisole topand pink panties. This song is about masturbation, soI rub myself on the crotch and when she's panting Ifan myself with my hand like I'm cooling myself off. Early in the song I peel off the top, revealing apale pink bra that matches my panties. In the middle Istart playing with my bra - pulling a shoulder strapdown, then pulling it back up, unhooking it, thenhooking it back, all the while winking and blowing youkisses and flirting. Late in the song I begin to toy with my panties andfinally pull them down to reveal--------- another pairof panties, these white bikinis. I giggle at you, twirl the panties around on myfinger, then toss them to you. At the beginning of the "True Colors" by cyndiLauper I play with my bra and flirt like before. Whenyou say something about me going on and taking it off,I say: "Why do you think they call it strip - tease!" Finally I turn my back, unhook the catches and slipit off. Before I turn around, though, I pull my hairover my shoulders so when I do, it's covering up whatyou want to see. I dance close to you, flirting andlaughing and let my leg rub against yours, then danceaway, turn my back and flip my hair back over myshoulders. When i turn around, though, I have my handscovering my titties. As I dance, ever so slowly comingcloser to you, I move my thumbs out of the way. Thenmy little fingers so you can see all of them except myaerola and nipples. Then, at last, I move my lastthree fingers away and dance far away, but hiding mytitties not at all. The next song is "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauperand I slow dance close to you, my legs rubbing yours,and lean over so my titties are just inches from yourface, and begin to play with my panties, pulling themdown on one side, then back up again. Pulling themdown in back just enough for you to see the very topof my butt crack, then pulling them back up again.Pulling them down in front so you can see the very topof my mons, then pulling them back up again. Finally, at the end of the song I dance to thebedroom door and, with my back to you, pull them offand, as I disappear inti the bedroom, drop them on thefloor. At the beginning of Madonna's "Like A virgin" I comeout wearing a long pink negligee' that drags the floorand is not too sheer and dance very slowly and actvery shy and demure - like a virgin - with my headlowered and with my hands folded over my mons. I swayover to you, look at you shyly, but with a smile, andfinally when Madonna sings "You made me feel - I hadnothing to hide" I slip the negligee' off and let itfall to the floor. For the rest of the song I dance naked for you,sometimes close, sometimes far away. One time whenI'm close and leaning over you I gather up my hair inmy arm and pull it over my head so it spills down overyour head and shoulders while my hot breath caressesyour face. When Madonna's "Shoo-Be-Doo" (which is a very slow,sensual song) starts I dance really close to you,rubbing my body all over you, turn around and bendway over with my feet far apart so you can see mystuff really well. Then I get down on the floor infront of you and cooch around with my legs way faropen. I even reach down between them and spread itopen so you are peering right up into my pussy. I get up,turn around, sit on your lap and rub mybottom against your hard-on, then turn around and siton your lap with my arms around your neck - all yours to do whatever you want with. I hope you enjoyed ! Danica"&lt;br /&gt;"I enjoyed it. You write good porn. Do you intend to be a stripper?" I handed the pages back to her.&lt;br /&gt;"I'd like to but I'm not going to. I don't want to lose my reputation. It's probably dangerous too."&lt;br /&gt;She was pretty, about 18, and very fresh. She had wonderful legs, long. slender, perfectly formed and very white. She had on shorts, a white top and flip-flops. She was a student at a local college. She made my balls hurt a lot.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm fascinated by the idea of being naked and entertaining a bunch of horny men. I might do it some day. I adore Men, entertaining and enticing them, teasing and then pleasing them and making them feel soooo good!!! I just admitted to myself that I'm submissive."&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have any pictures of your naked body or your hole?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't. I wish I did. But I can't have anyone, who knows me, see me like that," she said.&lt;br /&gt;"Can you pull your shorts aside so I can see your wonderful pussy?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, I can't. Somebody might come out here real fast and see me." she said.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, can I fuck you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Not now," she said&lt;br /&gt;After this exchange we were again silent for awhile and then she told me that she was going to the grocery store for dinner and maybe she'd see me later. She reentered the building andwent down the flight of stairs to the first floor. I heard her talking to two of the other tenents and then she exited the building. She passed just below me, turned left and I couldn't see her anymore. My dick hurt real bad. She really knew how to hurt a guy. I needed dinner too so I followed her to the grocery store. - N&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to comment write to me at.&lt;br /&gt;bravenewworldjune2007@yahoo.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15090130-113770763948693907?l=augustthreeissuenumberone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://augustthreeissuenumberone.blogspot.com/feeds/113770763948693907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15090130&amp;postID=113770763948693907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15090130/posts/default/113770763948693907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15090130/posts/default/113770763948693907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://augustthreeissuenumberone.blogspot.com/2006/01/issue-one-post-two.html' title='issue one post two'/><author><name>Richard Kenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17833094206918125304</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
