Author's note: I've been work Midi files doors when the musics over ing on this story for a looong time. The first part put to paper (yes, paper) was chapter two, which grew out of a real entry in my diary. Soon after, I began typing chapter one into an old laptop at a local coffee shop, enjoying the thrill of typing an explicit erotic story while surrounded by oblivious yuppies sipping lattes. A lot has changed since then. I started writing "Butterfly" when I was just a couple years out of college, the same age as my alter-ego as the story opens. In the beginning, it was pretty much a journal of my life as it was happening, with only the names and a few details altered. Gradually, it evolved into a "what-if"; what if I had done that, what if she had said that. (Tho interestingly enough, some of the what-ifs actually happened melpomene (more or less) after I had written them.) But due to constraints of both time and creativity, this poor story became neglected, a reminder of my wilder days tucked safely away in a back corner of my hard drive. Recently, I sat down and read through the whole thing for the 1st time in years. It was hard to believe it was my work Midi files doors when the musics over ; I couldn't remember writing whole scenes. It felt kinda like another author had asked me to continue a story she'd never finished, so that's what I did. The original author (as I've come to think of my younger self) had outlined the whole rest of the story. Though I probably wouldn't finish the tale the same way today, I'm going to mostly follow that old plan to keep the same vibe and not jar the readers with a completely different style. Upcoming chapters will take our main character to places that we might not want her to go, but I hope Midi files doors when the musics over that the journey for us invisible voyeurs (that's me and you) will make it all worthwhile.
	I'm typing this on my laptop at the airport, waiting for my fight to DC. I won't be leaving for a couple more hours, so in the meantime, I've got to try and sort out everything that happened marriage research same sex , all the crazy conflicting emotions spinning like a hurricane in my head. I can't believe what happened Mesh Micro Bikini last night. I can't believe what happened melpomene to me, or what I let happen to me. I hope Midi files doors when the musics over Kyle will forgive me, IF I ever get brave enough to tell him about it. Actually, I hope Midi files doors when the musics over I can forgive myself. I'll try to get it all down now while it's still fresh in my mind... I knew Kyle didn't believe me when I called and told him that a wife of a client needed entertaining on very short notice. I'd only been asked to do that once before, and I had known a couple weeks in advance that time. So I suggested that he hang out with his buddies and play that baseball video game he just bought. He was noncommittal and sounded kinda suspicious, but I really didn't care. What a dumbass I was! But I was so craving Crissy all day, I just wasn't thinking straight (pardon the pun) When I got in the office yesterday morning (gawd, was it only yesterday??? It seems like years ago already!), the first thing I did was check my email.Crissy hadn't yet replied to my RSVP for that evening, so I asked her to send details about our plans to my home email so I wouldn't be checking for new messages at work Midi files doors when the musics over every 5 minutes. I really did need to catch up on the accounts I'd been ignoring all week. But while I had the email program open, I copied those pictures of Crissy streaking in the library to my computer's hard drive and deleted her emails from the company email server. (I can't believe I left them on there so long!!! hope Midi files doors when the musics over the IT guys were as incompetent as usual... )
	So while I didn't waste any time checking for new naughty letters, who knows how many times I scrolled through those photos of Crissy flashing her ridiculously skinny yet sexy body through the college library. It got me so work Midi files doors when the musics over ed up that I took off my panties and stuffed them in my purse before going out for our traditional Friday whole-department lunch. Nobody could see anything under my calf-length skirt, but I knew and it felt delicious. And then frigging myself with that thick permanent marker under the desk in the afternoon... let's just say I didn't get much work Midi files doors when the musics over done after all. As soon as I got home, I dashed to the computer. Sure enough, Crissy had emailed to say she'd meet me at some "alternative" club at around 11. That was disappointing since it was only 5-something. I considered calling Kyle and saying my entertaining duties had been cancelled, figuring that I could relieve some sexual tension with a little quickie, then leave early and make my late appointment with Crissy. But I didn't — Kyle just knows me too well. He'd sense immediately that something was amiss and I'd be busted. Knowing what I know now, I wish I would have picked up the phone, gone out with Kyle, and forgotten about the whole Crissy thing. At least I think I wish that. God, I'm so confused right now... Anyway, I rushed through a quick dinner at home. 5:30. Then I cleaned the kitchen. 6:12. Next I dusted and vacuumed every inch of the whole apartment. 6:57. Time was just crawling. There was more cleaning I could have done, but I didn't want to tire myself out. So I sat down and called a few old friends I've been meaning to get back in touch with. I reached two voice mails, then got stuck hearing a high school acquaintance's husband's spiel about how he could "get me into a new hot tub for less than $50 a month." I bet he'd like to try. As soon as I disengaged the shyster from my ear, my fingers automatically flew across the keypad to call someone whose voice I really wanted to hear in my keyed-up state of mind: Jen. She was out to dinner with a "friend from work Midi files doors when the musics over ". (I had dialed her cell.) The way she said it, tho, made me think she might be trying to hide the fact that she was on a hot date. "Is he cute?" I asked, whispering conspiratorially for no apparent reason. "Use code words if you don't wanna talk in front of him." Jen shushed me, saying it was "nothing like that", but in such a secretively quiet tone that she made me think it was exactly like "that".