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Erotic Story:
HIDDEN FIRES
I am a native New Yorker, and I love
the charm of New York City. It is the "City That Never Sleeps", and so it's
a place where you can go out to
get a hamburger at two in the morning. Manhattan is the heart of New York,
and it's a heart that constantly beats with it's own special excitement such
as no other city I have ever visited, and believe me, I have visited quite a
few.
But as much as I am in tune with the city, this past summer I discovered
another place nearby with which I was very in tune, -- Fire Island.
Fire Island is not like any other island I have been to, and believe me, I
have been to quite a few. It is an utterly charming strip of sand bacon on
an early crisp morning. All the sweet taste without any of the cholesterol.
It is intoxicating and exotic. It has invaded every dream I have had since I
have returned.
The ocean air is sweet and clear. There are no cars, busses, subways or
trains, and that is because there are no real streets. The main
transportation are found in the banks of little pull wagons and bare feet.
The smaller walking paths are primarily raised wooden decking. The cottages
themselves are a practice in casual architectural art. And all are suspended
above the face of the land so that the island itself can breathe. Wild
grasses, birds and deer live in harmony, intermingling with the human
element. Its breath is a quarter mile and its length is only
accessible by beach or water taxi. Which means that each community is an
island unto itself. In some of those havens, clothing on their beach is
optional and the brown athletic bodies are as copious as the many shells
that grace its shores.
to read the rest of the story
click to ENTER!
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only if you are old enough
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EXIT NOW
if you are NOT
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