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tourist trap part 1

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PART 1

San Francisco. Last Weekend. Sunny Day.

you are bored silly, you cant believe you took all this time to visit sf and all your hubby wants to do is take pictures of seagulls and fat sea lions on the dock. hey, a couple shots is cool, but three hours of camera work, to bore all the friends in Des Moines?

but patience is a virtue. damn virtue.

there is a handsome man wearing grey slacks, a maroon shirt and a black leather jacket that catches your eye. i wonder if he ran out of film you ask yourself. you turn to look at him again but he vanished.

damn, i finally had a diversion and he leaves.

the wind gets a lil brisk and the flounce of your sunskirt whips up a bit and the crowd of people on the pier, if they happen to be looking get a nice peek of your black thong.

someone touches you on the shoulder. you spin around breathlessly hoping it's the stranger. your shoulders sag when you see Harold in front of you, breathless, holding two tickets in his hand.

"i got us two tickets to ride on the ferry boat to alcatraz, aint that exciting?" he gushes. oh boy you think.

about to accept another long ass side trip to something that you have no interest in. then the man appears again, behind Harold. He is holding up two tickets as well.

"honey, i am sorry, but would you mind going on this alone, my tummy is a lil in knots (close, but not quite my tummy)

and i would just get ill on the boat. He looks sort of hurt until a seagul flies by and lands with the golden gate behind it.

"uh, ok hon. i will meet you back here in four hours" and runs to focus on the sea bird and leaves you standing there.

you look up and he is gone.

fuck! now what do i do. hope he appears again magically? or do i buy a damn throw away camera and try shooting sailboats on the bay? or do i try to catch up with harold and look at al capones toilet in his cell.

i get tapped on the shoulder.

my heart swells. then drops to my ankles...harold again.he hands me some rolls of film and a hundred dollar bill.

"have these one hour developed so i can see them when i get back. bye bye." he makes kissy sounds and runs off to the boat.

so now i am his fucking errand girl.

i turn and the man is two feet in front of me. my clit actually throbs! he hands me a piece of paper, without a word and walks to the curb where a driver and black car awaits him. i read the ticket, which is actually a blank paper with handwriting.

If you want to experience SF in the manner that you have heard rumors about. if you can follow instructions without fail, including any commands of any sexual nature. If you can give me two hours of your time. if you believe that you will not be harmed.

then drop this in the trash next to you and come to me and my car.

now.

thirty seconds later the note is splattered with clam chowder as a man tosses his empty bowl on top of the note in the garbage can. he looks up and gets an eyefull of a pretty lady leaning in to sit in a black car, as the wind whips up her pretty dress, showing a shapely ass and black thong...

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