Sun Stories: Jazmin – Guess Girl – Chapter 1

I’m working at the salon as usual. Just another night. It’s 7:45 and we’re 15 minutes away from closing.

Jazmin enters the salon. She’s smoking hot and Middle Eastern gorgeous. Raven hair, caramel skin, green eyes, (Wow) and petite. She is absolutely breathtaking.

She’s wearing a white blouse and a black skirt. The hem is mid-thigh. Her caramel legs are exquisite. She’s wearing a pair of strappy pumps. (How can I turn away such a beautiful girl?)

“Hi. I work across the street at Guess and I thought I’d try tanning.”

“Oh cool. How did you hear about us?”

“I literally looked across the street and saw you.

“Oh awesome. We’re neighbors!”

“Yea, I work at Guess and I’m there doing client services on the 2nd floor a lot and I saw you.”

“Cool. We also have a gym here. Are you going on vacation, or just looking to get some color?

“Just want to even out my skin and get the good feeling of being tan in the winter.”

“Gotcha. Great idea. Thanks for coming in!”

“I’m across the street from you. We should be friends.”

 

She’s absolutely gorgeous.

 

“Yea… we should be!”

I take Jazmin through the different packages we offer and she settles on the 5 pack All Access.

I take her back to the room and show her all of the finer aspects of one of our elegant machines.

“Where are you from, Jazmin?”

“My parents are from Iran. They left when the Shah was overthrown in 1979 and came to America. They had me and my sister much later when they got established here.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that. I knew a dude that went through the same thing many years ago.”

“Yes. It was a difficult time from what I hear from my family, but we are so much better off now.”

“Like the Kardashians?”

“No. They are Armenian. Totally different. But I find your American ignorance endearing.” She giggles.

I feel like an ass. “Okay. I put five minutes on the room for you to get ready and then if you’re ready sooner just hop in and hit the start button.”

“Okay! Thank you, Charles!”

“Off you go! Thank you for choosing Sun City!”

I go back to cleaning the toilets, taking out the trash, and mopping the salon.

The salon is closed and at least I got to munch my chicken stromboli. Just another day in paradise.

Jazmin is a new client and even though she came in late, she’s money for the salon.

 

But the night was about to take a dark turn when she came out of her tanning session. A turn I would have never suspected in a million years. 

 

…To be continued next Tuesday!

 

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Humans are biased when it comes to beauty, study says

They may try to downplay it, but the beautiful people have it pretty good: They snag hotter dates, score free food and land higher-paid jobs. Now, behavioral neurologists are revealing the primal instinct driving our bias for beauty.

A new study, led by scientists at Penn Medicine, seeks to understand our brain’s response to people with facial abnormalities, such as scars, birthmarks, dysplasia and other “deformities.” Their findings, published in Scientific Reports, show an inherent bias against the “disfigured” and innate preference for the conventionally attractive.

“Judgements on attractiveness and trustworthiness are consistent across cultures, and these assumptions based on facial beauty are made extremely quickly,” says lead study author Dr. Anjan Chatterjee, professor of neurology and director at Penn Center for Neuroaesthetics. “On the other hand, people with facial disfigurement are often targets of discrimination, which seems to extend beyond the specific effects of lower overall attractiveness and may tie in more with the pattern of results with stigmatized groups.”

Previous neuroimaging studies have shown that attractive faces trigger more substantial responses in the reward, empathy, and social cognition sectors of the brain, compared to readings taken from more average faces. This study digs deeper by focusing on disfigured faces and analyzing whether surgical solutions mitigate the negative response.

“In order to right any discrimination, the first step is to understand how and why such biases exist, which is why we set out to uncover the neural responses to disfigured faces,” Chatterjee says.

The study involved two experiments, both using a set of pre- and post-op photographs from patients who underwent surgical treatment for their abnormalities. The first behavioral study enlisted 79 participants to find out whether or not they were aware of their beauty biases. An implicit association test (IAT) was used to determine where folks naturally fell when it came to judging disfigured faces. Then an explicit bias questionnaire (EBQ) assessed how conscious they were of their preference.

While the participants showed no explicit bias on the EBQ, researchers saw a clear implicit preference for the non-disfigured faces, especially among men.

The second experiment involved a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) test to observe the neural response to the photo sets. The authors found an increase in activity in the ventral occipito-temporal cortical areas, which deals with vision processing, and decreases in the regions associated with empathy, specifically the anterior cingulate and medio-prefrontal cortex.

All this tells researchers that, in spite of common courtesy, people are unconsciously harboring negative biases against less attractive and disfigured faces, resulting in an inherent lack of empathy. The diminished activity in the anterior cingulate cortex also indicates a neural flag for dehumanization, supported by previous studies which show a similar response to other stigmatized groups, such as drug addicts or homeless people.

“The emphasis of attractiveness and its association with positive attributes highlights the pervasive effect of appearance in social interaction,” says Chatterjee. “While we found that corrective surgery mitigates negative social and psychological responses to people with facial anomalies, we are also exploring alternative strategies to minimize bias towards people with facial conditions.

 

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Cherie – Chapter 56 – Can’t Get You Out Of My Head

“Don’t even think about it, because I’m not in the mood.”

WARNING: THIS POST IS A LITTLE NSFW!

So, Cherie was finally coming down to see me. It’s been a couple of months. I’m fine with it, but there’s a certain divide that occurs when people aren’t together for long periods of time.

Between raising her son, going to school full time, and working at Children’s Hospital there isn’t much time left over for me. That, and her Saab was in the shop for awhile.

But on the other hand, I’m only off two days a month! So at this point it’s nearly impossible. But I finally got a day off and she made arrangements to get down here. She can only be down here from 12:30 to 6pm. Which is fine with me. Anytime to just reconnect with my girlfriend is enough.

She texts me that she’s parking, so I head out of my apartment to meet her. It’s a mild day in Rittenhouse.

The original plan was to go to the movies, but because of her limited time and the length of time that we’ve been apart, We settled on late brunch. Besides, why would I want to sit in a movie theater for two hours next to the woman I should be looking at, listening to, and communicating in general with? It just didn’t make sense.

I’m walking south on 16th street when I see her across the street. I smile and she waves. She looks great. She’s wearing her hair in braids. It looks exotic and gorgeous. She’s got on a red jacket with some gold trim over a one piece black clingy dress. The hemline is mid thigh and she’s got on a pair of knee high boots. I love skirts and boots. Just a peek of knees and thighs.

We hug and start chatting. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really at the moment.”

“As you know, we’re near my house. You could rest for a bit after your long drive.”

“Okay, but don’t even think about it, because I’m not in the mood.”

I’m stunned. This is the hot nymphomaniac that I’ve been writing about for over two years! I didn’t even know she had that phrase in her vocabulary! It’s been over two months since I’ve seen her.

“That’s why you didn’t want to go to the movies. You just wanted to get at me.”

“I didn’t want to go to the movies because I wanted to spend time with you and see you because it’s been awhile.”

This sort of thing has happened once before. There was a period last June where we were apart for and extended amount of time. When we finally were together she was resistant to my affection. But I charmed my way back in.

It just feels like there’s a thicker coating of permafrost on her heart today.

We get to the house and she sits on the bed. We start talking and she’s telling me story. I get on the bed with her and start kissing her cheek and neck.

She pulls away.

I try to caress her soft thigh.

More resistance. Of course at this point I stop. Girlfriend or not...No means no.

So we chat for a bit more and I’m enjoying her story. But I haven’t seen her in a long time and I miss her. I know Cherie very well and I know she’ll yield to her own desires. I just need to move slowly and gently.

We start kissing. I’m holding my love in my arms. She’s warming up. I know what she wants me to do. I toss a thick folded blanket onto the floor beside the bed. (I have hardwood floors and my knees aren’t what they once were.

She slides toward me and as she does her skirt hikes up past her thighs.

“If you want me you’re going have to pull my panties off me. Show me how bad you want it.”

I’m kissing her thighs and knees as I curl my fingers into the waistband of her white lace panties.

“Can you please lift that delicious derriere my dear?”

Cherie raises her hips upward and I slide her underwear down her legs and off. I grab her thighs and pull her towards the edge of the bed. Spreading her thighs I reveal her small shaved vulva. I’m getting a bit aroused just writing about her. I love her so much, and God, I’ve missed her and this special time together.

I go to work on her and it’s difficult to tease her much, because I’m starving for her. Cherie responds accordingly to my deft tongue and lips. We’ve been together for over a year. I know exactly how to please her and get her going.

That escalates rather quickly as her nympho side kicks into high gear. She can take it no more and my pants and socks are off in a flash. I’ve had plenty of practice.

I climb up on top of her and slowly ease myself into her.

It is glorious. (And WAY overdue!)

The sex is thundering as it always is between us and within minutes she’s losing it.

“I’m coming….I’m coming… Ooohhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Cherie is the most orgasmic woman I have ever met. She really is in tune with her body. I’m whispering in her ear mocking her earlier words as I’m pounding her into the mattress.

“Don’t even think about it. Cause I’m not in the mood. Think about your words, Cherie. Think about them and think about where you are now.”

I know it sounds a little mean, but it’s not. Cherie is a strong woman, but in the bedroom, totally submissive. She likes me to be dominant with her, and I deliver.

I’m going to just keep going and let her get to at least three before I’ll climax. I always make sure that she gets all of hers before I get mine. At this point, mine won’t be long from now. We’re pounding each other like rutting dogs and the power is building up.

Cherie has now come, once, twice and now thrice!

I can’t hold back anymore. I quickly pull out and just put my left hand out like a shield in front of my turgid member. I come with such great force, I nearly blow my hand off.

Cherie literally backs away on the bed so she isn’t hit by any ‘friendly fire.’

We regain our composure and are both feeling happy and relieved.

“Ohhh…. That was awesome.”

We get cleaned up and I realize we’re both completely dressed from the waist up. Her dress is still on and even her jacket is still on. I removed only the necessary clothing to have sex with Cherie.

Efficient as well as utilitarian.

We get dressed and head out. She has to feed the meter so we take care of that before brunch.

“Hungry now?”

“I think I’ve worked up an appetite.”

The entire time we’re together we’re telling stories and catching up on lost time. We spend a substantial amount of time discussing our relationship. We need to figure out a way to spend more time with each other. I tell her that I’m going to take off every other Saturday. Cherie likes that idea and she’s going to see what she can do on her end. We’re  going to also try to arrange a few lunch dates during the week if possible.

We end up going to Marathon on 19th and Spruce. It’s close to the house. I love Marathon. Think of an upscale diner with delicious locally farmed comfort food.

It’s really been a great day with my girlfriend. I realize how sweet she is and how much I truly love her.

If you read this blog you’ll know that I get into all different situations, but no one gets hurt and I compartmentalize my life. The blog isn’t going to write itself and I need content and followers. I’m good at playing different roles in each sector of my life.

Many people worked on the Manhattan Project. They all did their different jobs creating the atomic bomb, but no one knew what the other one’s role was. That was created to keep it top secret. That’s how I roll. I have many characters in my life. Some don’t have to ever meet other ones and I never show all of my cards to anyone in this card game we call life.

We finish our meal and I walk her to her car. We’ve been together for six hours and she has to get back. I kiss her sweet lips goodbye and ask that she texts me so I know she got home safe.

Until next we meet.

Now back to my busy life.

 

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Trash Talkin’ Tina

Tina and I had been together for a few weeks, and had planned a weekend camping trip to the mountains. We packed and headed off. By noon on the first day, we were up in the mountains, miles away from anyone, anything, and decent cell phone service.

We had been having a nice time, and then it was time for lunch. At a site, we opened our packs and pulled out food, including a couple of cans of vegetables.

“You have the can opener?” Tina asked me.

I had said that I’d bring it, and I thought that I had. However, upon searching through my packs, I found that I didn’t.

“I’m getting hungry, here,” Tina said, becoming agitated. I was also hungry, and I searched high and low for the can opener that simply wasn’t there.

“I can’t find it,” I admitted, “But I can probably use my knife to pry the lids open.”

“You forgot a can opener?” she asked.

“Yes, but I can use my–”

“Holy fuck. You forgot a can opener? Are you fucking retarded? I’m starving!”

I repeated, “I think I can do it with my knife.” She picked up her pack, shouldered it, and stormed away. “Where are you going?” I called after her. She yelled back, “To find a man who has a can opener!”

I yelled back, “I can open them with my knife!” She kept going, and I wasn’t about to chase her. Less than five minutes later, I had two cans open, thanks to my knife. I ate my lunch and decided to wait for her to return.

One hour turned into two, and two turned into three. It was mid-afternoon, and I was worried. I called for her over and over, but there was no response. The only thing I could think of was that she had circled back to the van.

I returned to it and found her sitting, leaning against it. When she saw me, she sprang up at once. I said, “I had the cans opened in minutes. Want some?”

She replied, “Why did it take you so long to come looking for me?”

I said, “Why should I have had to look for you in the first place? You stomped off on your own. Now, do you want something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said you were starving before.”

She said, “I want to go home.”

It wasn’t a big deal. I could always return to hike on my own or with another friend. My main goal was to slide this whiny psycho out of my life as quickly as possible.

I shrugged, said, “Okay,” and opened the van. I put my bag inside and reached for hers.

“No,” she said, “I’m not riding with you. You’ve treated me like shit all day. I’m walking.”

She turned and started on her long journey. “It’s a 20-mile walk to anywhere,” I called after her, “Let me drive you.”

She said, “I’d rather die out here,” and kept going.

I wasn’t about to play games. I had given her plenty of chances to be nice. I jumped into my van and drove away.

Three hours later, I was almost back home when I received a text from her: “Some fucking strangers had to drive me to the closest gas station. You come and pick me up right the fuck now.”

I wonder how she ever made it home.

 

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Kita – Chapter 47 – Reckoning – Part 2

Reckoning: A bill or account, or its settlement.

STOP! THIS POST IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK! NSFW! DO NOT READ THIS POST IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY GRAPHIC SEXUALLY ORIENTED MATERIAL.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

BUT… IF YOU WANT TO READ IT, YOU CAN DO THAT HERE:

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=1000

 

 

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Kita – Chapter 46 – Reckoning – Part 1

Reckoning: A bill or account, or its settlement.

reck·on·ing
/ˈrek(ə)niNG/
noun
  1. the action or process of calculating or estimating something.
    “last year was not, by any reckoning, a particularly good one”
    Similar:

    calculation

    estimation

    computation

    working out

    summation

    counting

    addition

    total

    tally

    score

    • a person’s view, opinion, or judgment.
      “by ancient reckoning, bacteria are plants”
      Similar:

      opinion

      view

      judgment

      evaluation

      way of thinking

      appraisal

      consideration

    • ARCHAIC
      a bill or account, or its settlement.
    • There it is. A bill or account, or it’s settlement…

     

I was working this Saturday at the salon. I hadn’t heard from Kita the entire month she was in Florida. I’ve pretty much written her off and moved on. I got the one text that she was coming in to tan when she got back to Philly but didn’t respond. She kind of sucks as a person. But that’s just youth and privilege. She has all of these problems with guys because she’s clueless. She looked to me for advice and I did so much to help her. I even showed her how a guy should treat her. She’s so ignorant and dumb she couldn’t even see it.

All of the time I put in with her. The advice, the listening, and everything else. The gifts, the dinner, the lunch. She missed it all. Because she’s young, inexperienced and dumb.

Her petite Asian beauty is the only thing that has her hanging from a thread with me. But she’s been back for over two weeks and I haven’t heard a peep.

Selfish.

Youth.

I know I sound a little butt hurt but what she’s done is just rude. But if I really look at it, It’s no worse than the horrible shit I’ve done to people as a youth. I created this relationship, and it’s failing before my eyes in a cold, dark silence.

Kita doesn’t even know. She feels nothing. She’s so self-absorbed, all she can see and feel is what her immediate needs are. It’s called being 21.

But the funny thing is, she was adopted into privilege. A dice roll that came up snake eyes. She and her sister won the lottery. My daughter is her very same age and is a more mature, better person than this vacuous little baby girl.

But like I said before, I’m the architect of this nonsense. I should have just stayed away and not gotten mixed up with her. All of the hours of advice and the long texts about other boys were nonsense. All a waste of time.

I think what made it hardest was the kisses. That’s what kept me in. Her sweet little kisses and our romantic moments. I’m a sucker for that with a girl and that’s the only thing that’s held me in this confusing and confounding game.

I’m actually okay with all of it. It’s not driving me nuts, because at my age I’m just happy to have any attention from young women. Cherie is still hanging in there but I don’t know for how long. Frankly, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore. Stay? Go?

Same.

 

I’m at the salon munching on a soft pretzel from Wawa. It has no taste. It’s just filler at this point. They were out of mustard packets so I’m basically eating a salty, flavorless, hard chunk of bread. Fuckin’ crap. Not even a real Philly pretzel.

 

I’m chewing a mouthful when cute Kita suddenly enters the salon.

 

I haven’t seen her in a month and a half. She looks the same. Not darker in the tanning department, simply the same.

I stop chewing and just stare at her in amazement. She was my number one and so much has happened since I last saw her. Sadly, the shine has gone off the apple.

I think about hot Delaney in the salon last night using the last of Kita’s lotion that I got for her and then dropping it in the trash. It’s laying in the can just 10 feet from her. I hope to God she doesn’t ask for her bottle… because it’s gone.

“Kita…”

“Hey Charles.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m sorry I haven’t been in to see you. But It’s a new semester and my class schedule has changed. That’s why I’ve been coming in during the morning.”

“I thought that’s what probably happened.” (I really did)

Yea. I have a bunch of classes in the afternoon now and it’s hard for me to get down here after 3.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. But I was just busy having fun doing nothing in the keys.”

I liked that she said that.

“I thought maybe you were staying away because you realized I did too much for you.” (I can’t believe I folded with that hand)

“Oh, no. It’s just my classes.”

I was praying that Delaney would walk in at this moment and worlds would collide and the new number one would meet the fallen queen. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ve been talking to Steve again.”

“Oh.”

I fucking hate this guy, He’s the rebound guy I consoled her on for an entire month and she’s still failing as a person with this loser.

“Yea. He called me when I was in Florida and said he was sorry for the way he treated me and that I didn’t do anything wrong. So that was good. So I’m talking to him again.”

 

Apparently “talking to” means kissing and hanging out with someone now.

 

I’m indifferent at this point and know that Kita will continue to make shitty decisions with men for the next decade. I simply don’t care. It only takes a month or so for phicklephilly to start closing doors and opening new ones now.

She tells me she’s been working out and is thinner now. She wanted to lose her belly but this baby is 5’1″ and petite and perfect so I don’t get it, but again, at this point I simply don’t care.

When I went to Wawa this morning I got what I needed food-wise for my shift, and I reluctantly picked up an extra banana. I thought I’d offer it to sweet Delaney, but now I am yielding to Kita.

Damn it!

“Do you want a banana?”

“I’d love a banana.’

I can’t go back. But here I am offering delicious fruit meant for my new number one and giving it to Kita.

Fuck me!

She doesn’t deserve it!

Kita happily accepts the fruit and munches it like the sweet little chimp that she is.

I’m worried she’ll ask about her lotion but she doesn’t, and wants to check out a couple of packets of two different stronger tinglers. Bombshell and Body Shots. After a long decision process she settles on Body Shots. It make me think back on to how long she took with the fucking menu at Gran Cafe L’Aquilla.

I’m so done with her. She’s just a boring little girl. I wish Delaney would walk in here so we could erase her together.

It would be glorious.

 

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Sun Stories: Sasha – Chapter 3 – Return of the Queen

“Sasha is the most beautiful woman who has entered our gates at the tanning salon.”

I’m fed up with Kita’s neglect. Now granted Kita is 21 and has no idea to navigate the world. She is an adopted daughter from China that has been rescued by a pair of extremely rich parents. When I gave her all of the things I gave her, I did it willingly. I liked her. She needed guidance an I did everything I could do to help her.

Kita was the perfect client. EFT client and non-stop tanning. I bought her tons of gifts and gave her a multitude of extras at the salon. Kita is so ignorant she never realized all of the things I did for her and squandered them all.

She illustrated this clearly to me when she vanished during her Winter break from Temple in Florida. I’ve realized she is a fucking zero and a waste of my time. Some girls can be helped and tutored but this one is just a boring loser. No wonder she has so many problems with boys.

She has no experience and is incredibly boring. Can you imagine being 21 and having no fun factor? That shit was built into all of us back in my day. We all wanted to party whenever we could.

So putting time in on little Kita has been a waste and a misstep on my part. I don’t regret all of the things I did for her. I’m just a little amazed that she was too stupid to realize that what I did for her was the model of what her dating life should have looked like with these boys.

Kita was too dumb to realize that the things I was doing for her were the actual model of what dating looks like. Kita blew it. It matters nothing to me. I have a girlfriend. I know dating and relationships better than everybody I know. I’ve done nothing wrong but try to help a young girl find her way and she completely missed it.

Which makes an important point. You can lead a horse to water. I spelled out the perfect relationship out to Kita. All the while counseling her and she still never saw it. She blew it. Kita… still the fool. That tells me she sucks and needs to go.

I would love to spell it out to her one day, but that would be contrived and silly. Too late for you Kita. I’m sorry.

Then there was her eager successor, Delaney. Sexy, drunk and ready to play. I let Delaney use Kita’s lotion and was angry at Kita for never texting me once while she was gone in Florida. I was forsaken by my number one.

Delaney was a band-aid who wanted to so badly be my number one. She’s so beautiful and I love her but she can’t follow-up on anything.

I know this is a little game I play at the salon to keep things interesting at pretty much a mundane job, but there are stories here.

Delaney has promised much and failed miserably. As pretty as she is and her lust for tanning and her pretty legs, she’s just not #1 material.

After her promise of booze for an exclusive bottle of tingler. Sweet and Sexy lotion that I personally bought her I’m disappointed.

On both occasions to collect said lotion she never showed up.

Huge fail.

“Is my experience wanting to give you expensive, free lotion just an exercise in taking it back and forth to my house?”

It should never be that. That is an amazing lotion. It smells like pastries, and bakes you up delish. I bought that for you because I like you. You make me happy when I see you.

 

Two days later I’m cranking at the salon and we’re doing well.

One of the loveliest girls I know comes in. Her friend preempted her and said she’s be in. I miss this girl, She’s a sweet curvy angel that I need in here. I love her. A sweet, giggly baby that knows and loves my blog.

I send her to her bed of choice and then I see My Queen behind her. Everything becomes clear at our salon in that moment.

Sasha is the most beautiful woman who has entered our gates at the tanning salon. Can you imagine standing before someone and they are number one? (See: Sasha: Chapters 1 & 2)

And then it hits me.

You loved Kita. You’ll figure it out, you idiot.

Delaney’s too busy.

Sasha…. she’s working three jobs at her current gig, Baby is broken. She’s at the same company that Delaney works at but her life is hell.

Sasha needs to get out. Baby’s waiting for the Cadillac and she’s so stressed. She flops her lovely, slender legs over the chair.

I feel like I need to help her. I want to ease her stress. Then I get an idea.

I run to the back of salon and go in the cabinet under the sink. When I return to her I hand her something.

“Sweet and Sexy lotion! For me?”

“Yes, Sasha. It’s yours. A gift from you to me.”

“How come?”

“Because you’re my number one and I should have never let you not be my number one!”

“Thank you! I love it!”

“It’s my pleasure, Sasha.”

 

I can hope one of the following things happen:

  1. Delaney walks in and Sasha comes in behind her and I say: “Hey there number one.” And Delaney goes: “Hey.” And then I say: “I wasn’t talking to you.”
  2. Delaney: “Hey. Didn’t you say you got a new lotion for me? Me: “Yea. I sort of gave that to your co-worker, Sasha.
  3. Sasha addresses the girls at work with the following: “That Charles over at the salon is so nice. I was over there the other night and you know what he did? He gave me a brand new bottle of Sweet and Sexy bronzer! That runs like $45 a bottle!

Hopefully everything goes back to normal after all of this nonsense.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve been such a childish, little bitch about everything.

 

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