Sour Cherries - 3 Lesbian Stories

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Free download. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. This Book have some digital formats such us :paperbook, ebook, kindle, epub, fb2 and another formats. After fighting traffic on the bridge making us realize the reason why we do not visit the East Bay more often we zipped over to Omnivore Books , where AJ dropped me off into the chaos and he went to find parking. There may be more gay and lesbian couples in Noe Valley but none of them wanted to give up their spot for us. Samantha over at The Second Lunch has a great write up about it.

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I arrived not realizing that I was going to be one of over 60 cookie competitors! What the heck?!?! My cookies, by the way, did not win. Wiser said she entered the contest because her son told her to, and that she was donating the winnings to his school, Mira Loma, which is awesome. The cookies, a chocolate toffee cookie with sea salt had a great chewy bite and a touch of salt to offset the sweetness. That said, AJ totally turned to me after the competition, and told me that my cookies were a winner in his eyes.

Normally I would have just rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to console me, but then he reached over and took a leftover cookie out of the ziplock bag I had brought them back in. His third double chocolate dried cherry and toffee bit cookie that day. After sampling all those cookies from the event, he still wanted another one of mine. Try them for yourself and you tell me. My cookies got the honor of sitting by themselves, near the voting jar, on top of the NOMA cookbook.

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By Irvin Lin. My potty mouth twitter pal Marc loves these cookies. You can also substitute 6 tablespoons of cocoa powder for all the mesquite flour. Directions 1. Line a baking sheets with silpats or parchment paper. In a medium bowl, combine flours, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt. Stir vigorously with a whisk to blend together. Beat the eggs and the instant coffee together in a small bowl until the coffee granules dissolve.

Cream together until light and fluffy, about three minutes. Add half the egg mixture and beat until incorporated. Scrape down the sides with a spatula and add the other half of the egg and repeat. Scrape down again and add the vanilla. Add the dried cherries, chocolate chunks and toffee bits. Using a wooden spoon or stiff large spatula, mix into the batter, until all of them are evenly distributed throughout cookie dough.

Drop the batter by heaping tablespoons onto the prepared baking sheet, about two inches apart. Bake for 12 minutes or until barely set in the center of the cookie and the edges are firm. Cool on the tray for about 5 minutes and then move to a wire rack to cool completely.

Cookies keep for about 4 or 5 days in an airtight container or ziplock bag. Makes 48 cookies Reader Interactions Comments What an adventure!

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Looks like the kiddies can they be any cuter? Anything with toffee is good.

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I agree! The screams came up to a point just below her throat, and melted away like cotton candy in spit. Heather had a good ear for the difference between melodrama and genuine suffering. Like all tops, she want ed to know she was making an impact. Impressive sound effects would sometimes take the edge off her wrath.

But Theresa just sent herself someplace else. Theresa had wanted to stay. She wondered what it would feel like to get fucked in that many ori- fices simultaneously. Heather had been adamant. What will you want to look at next, Theresa, monster truck racing? Heather usually did not mark her. Well, if she was doing it now and making herself sick, it was just deserts. Let Heather reap what she had sown. Heather was being very affectionate, Theresa noticed, but she herself still felt far, for away. The hot water and soapsuds were soothing. She had almost come back to herself when the deliveryman rang their door- bell, and she had to go ask Headier for cash or a credit card.

Heather grimaced, then gave her permission to go into her briefcase and extract her wallet. They ate together, chopsticks clicking, and Theresa submissive- ly opened her mouth, chewed and sw'allow'ed anything that Heather deigned to feed her. She really doesn't know that anything is wrong, part of her said in amazement, wiiile another voice said, Am I going crazy? Her pink mouth was crimped into a litde circle of seriousness, and her thin eyebrows gathered up a pinch of white forehead between their dark bows.

No, Theresa groaned internally. I made you a promise ages and ages ago. How would you like to get your hood ring tonight, my hot litde one? She wanted it the way she had wanted a bicycle when she w T as 1 1 , the way she wanted to play football when she was 14, die way she wanted to be a writer now.

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They had tried to do this three times already, and Theresa had always safe-worded out of it, in hysterics. Radiating generosity like Santa Claus, a student loan determent, and a big refund from the IRS all rolled into one, Heather brought Theresa to her feet and escorted her to the bathroom. While Terry stood in the tub. Heather washed her labia with Betadine.

The dis- infectant stung a little, and Theresa had to grab the towel rack with both hands to keep herself upright. Her knuckles were white, and she wagered they matched her face. She made herself go into the bedroom, where Heather had laid out a surgical drape for her to lie upon. Then she was restrained, wrists and ankles, and this time Heather attached the chains herself. Heather brought a TV tray in by the bed and covered it with a sterile drape. There was some business about not having the right size of latex gloves; then those were dis- covered.

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As each implement hit the tray piercing forceps, needle in a paper autoclave envelope, bead ring, packets of long, fat cotton swabs impregnated with more povidone iodine a new wave of nau sea hit Theresa. She swallowed over and over again, willing her stomach to stay down. Heather took long strips of black latex and bound back her labia, wrapping the stretchy straps around her upper thigh. Theresa knew' she would have to hold very still now, or the rubber would slip, and Heather would be plexed.

The surgical marker descended, leaving two small dots to guide the needle. She kept her equilibrium when the soft grips of the piercing forceps descended upon her ditoral hood and lifted it slightly. She even remained calm when she spotted the sparkle of a descending needle out of the corner of her eye, and felt the bite of its point in the most sensitive part of her body. It would only take a few seconds of pressure for the needle to pass through, creating a passageway for the jewelry she coveted. Theresa wanted so badly to hang a little bell from her clit and go dancing. Suddenly, the pressure of her own weight upon her injured buttocks was enough to squeeze cold tears from the corners of her eyes.

The idea of taking even a single second of more agony, which was all the piercing would entail, was intolerable. Theresa screamed her safe word as if Satan himself were taking a venomous big greedy bite right out of her ass.

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The tray was gone too, like the fairy castle that will vanish if you tell the name of your immortal lover. Her hair, Theresa thought, smelled like too many different kinds of perfume all mixed together. Then she realized Heather was crying. I have to give in. I have to show you mercy.

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She cried about being laid off at the printing company. How could it hurt so much to lose a job you hated? She cried about the rejection slip she had gotten from Libido. She wept for the way hope kept turning into bitterness in her rela- tionship.