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Old 25-Jun-12, 05:07
smirnoff smirnoff is offline
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Default Mangle Me (A Good Story Of Scissors)

MANGLE ME
!

Normally I hate housework and try to avoid it. I guess I’m kind of spoiled
by my mother and then later by my first girlfriend. But once something
happened that made me love washing my clothes more than anything
else.
I was on vacation in Stockholm, Sweden and stayed at a friend’s
apartment. After two weeks my friend and his girlfriend went to her
parents country house for a week and left me alone in the apartment. It
was kind of nice living alone for the first time even if it meant having to
do some housework.
The first night as I was trying to go to sleep I heard strange noises
from the other side of the bedroom wall. I could distinguish two voices
– one male and one female. The male voice seemed to make sounds of
great pain while the female voice was mostly laughing. After a while both
sounds changed into expressions of immense pleasure. They kept at it for
several hours obviously deeply enjoying their game of pleasure and pain
and not caring about being too loud. I tried to imagine what exactly went
on next door, but I couldn’t quite get the picture. Some kind of kinky sex
no doubt, but what kind? I was strangely aroused and when I finally fell
asleep my dreams were extremely erotic.
I didn’t have much left of clean clothes so the following day I went to
the laundry rooms in the basement of the building. My friend had shown
me how everything worked before he left. We had reserved a time for
me between 12.00 and 15.00. When I opened the washing machines I
found them full of clothes. Somebody who had reserved the first time of
the day from 9.00 to 12.00 had obviously forgotten to pick the clothes
from the washing machines and put them in the tumble drier. I had to
empty the machines myself and put all of the wet clothes in a big empty
basket that was there. It was female clothing. At first I just threw them
into the basket, but then I started to feel strangely curious. It was kind of
exciting being so intimate with an unknown woman’s clothes – especially
her underwear. What really caught my attention was a vast collection
of stockings in all colours and patterns. There were no ankle socks, no
knee-highs, no nylon stockings, no pantyhose, but plenty of long over
knee cotton and wool stockings. As I have always been something of a
leg man I examined the wet stockings closely, enjoying touching them,
almost caressing them. I imagined what the girl who had all these
stockings looked like. She could come to get them any minute and I was
afraid that she would catch me with my hand in the cookie jar that was
the clothesbasket. I thought about stealing a pair of stockings or two
but didn’t. I reluctantly left the laundry room after filling the washing
machines with my own boring clothes.
When I got back to the apartment fifteen minutes later I heard the
couple in the next room again. He was screaming in pain, begging her to stop doing whatever she was doing. It was a kind of muffled scream as if
something was blocking his mouth. She was screaming too, but not from
pain. Everybody in the building must have heard her long lasting high
pitch sounds of ecstasy.
About an hour later it was dead quiet next door and I went down to the
basement again to take my clothes out of the washing machines and put
them in the drier. I almost wished that the owner of the stockings still
hadn’t come to get them. I wouldn’t mind giving them another thorough
inspection. Then I thought that it would be great if the owner of the
stockings were down there now so that I could meet her. In my fantasy
she had fantastic legs.
My wildest fantasies couldn’t surpass what I actually saw as I opened
the door to the laundry room. There was a man on his knees taking
clothes from the basket and putting them into the drying machine. But
what really caught my eye was the girl sitting on a bench watching
the man at work. She wore tiny jeans shorts and really long red wool
stockings. Her legs were the most beautiful pair I had ever laid eyes on.
Curves and muscles in perfect places and perfect proportions. It took just
one glance to see that she was obviously athletic and strong.
As soon as she looked up at me she must have been able to see my
awe and admiration, because she gave me a big, sexy smile that sent
shivers down my spine. Then she jumped into action without a moment’s
hesitation. To my astounding surprise she got to her feet, grabbed the
hair of the man on the floor and pulled him towards her. He was on all
fours facing her and with his back towards me. She quickly and expertly
straddled his neck with her thighs and crossed her ankles securing
an inescapable scissor hold. She had manoeuvred her victim into this
position just five seconds after she saw me entering the room.
The man on the floor was big and looked well trained, but still he was
helpless. She held him firmly between her thighs seemingly without effort
as she smiled at me all the time. Her eyes hadn’t left mine as she made
her move and it was obvious that this was not the first time she was
scissoring a man with her gorgeous legs. Leaning over him she put her
hands on his lower back for balance and started talking to me in a calm
and sexy voice.
”Hi, I’m Frida. You’re the American, right? My neighbour told me you
were coming to stay here. I live next door to you. I got back yesterday
from a two week trip to London. Nice to meet you.”
I knew that Frida was a common typical Swedish name, but this was
definitely not a common typical Swedish girl. I couldn’t believe she was
making small talk in this bizarre situation. It was as if it was quite normal
to hold someone between your legs in a scissor. Well, maybe it was
normal to her. And not just normal, but very common – something that
happened every day. I was completely stunned and didn’t know what
to say or what to do. Should I just shake her hand and present myself?
Maybe what she was doing was just another strange Swedish custom.
I didn’t say or do anything so she kept talking.
”I’m sorry if we made too much noise last night, but if you can’t sleep
just come and tell me and we’ll work something out.”
I marvelled at how she could make an embarrassing excuse sound like
an invitation to join her little fun and games. By now the man on the floor
had recovered from the shock and was trying to escape his thigh prison
by pulling at her awesome pillars with his hands. He shouldn’t have done
that. She gave him a long, hard squeeze that made him scream out loud.
It was very clear to me now what had been going on in the apartment
next to mine both last night and this afternoon.
”I’m so sorry that we forgot to fetch my laundry in time. It’s Eric’s fault,
you know. I told him to do my laundry today, but he forgot all about
it. Well, maybe I’m partly to blame for making him forget as I started
playing with him. You know when I start to play I forget the time and
everything else. I can’t help it, but I just love my kind of playing. Eric
thinks I get a little too rough when we’re playing, don’t you Eric?”
To make him answer her question she gave him a quick, but mighty
squeeze that made him grunt in pain.
”Anyway, since it was his fault that you had to remove my clothes
yourself I think we should punish him, don’t you?”
She didn’t wait for my reply, as she stood straight up again. She
grabbed his hair behind her and parted her legs slightly while she pulled
his head up higher into her crotch. When she crossed her sensational legs
again I could see how much damage her massive bulging thighs must
do. Then she got up on her toes and slowly began turning around on the
spot. The sight of her big round calf muscles as she tiptoed around like
a ballerina made me want to touch them. I would be happy if I could
see nothing else than these calves for the rest of my life. Her arms were
stretched out to keep the balance as if she was walking a tightrope. He
had to follow her moves as her relentless legs made him turn in half a
circle so that he was now facing me. Still holding him in the reversed
standing head scissor she looked over her shoulder at me.
”So now we must make him apologize to you, ok?”
Once more she adjusted his head in perfect position and started
squeezing. This time she really concentrated on her legwork and put
more effort in. Her victim was in serious agony now. He had a strong
thick neck that probably could take a lot of pressure, but she just kept
squeezing and squeezing with a terrifying power that definitely made him
suffer. Just when I thought that he would pass out she suddenly released
him. Before he could make a move she captured his poor head again. It
took just a second to lift her right leg over his back, turn around and then
lift her left leg over his head and secure a new scissor hold.
”This is much better. Now I can see your eyes as you watch me
squeezing him. And what’s more Eric can see you better too.”
To demonstrate her point she pulled his head up by the hair again and
scissored him tightly again. In the reverse scissor hold his face had been directed towards the floor, but now he couldn’t avoid looking at me as she
pulled his head back by his hair.
”Look at this nice American boy, Eric. You own him an apology, don’t
you?”
I don’t know who was the most embarrassed male in the room. Frida
put her hands together and placed them under his chin, pulling it hard
towards her crotch while working hard with her legs to let her thighs eat
their way into the sides of his head. I thought no scissor hold could be
more painful and that she could probably kill him if she kept him in this
vice. His face was red both from the embarrassment of having to face
me in this humiliating position and from the enormous pressure of her
powerful thighs. He was completely helpless and had stopped struggling
to get out now, surely knowing it was hopeless. He seemed strong, but
her legs were undoubtedly stronger. Her marvellous legs brought tears to
his eyes and he desperately sobbed his excuse to me.
I was confident by now that Frida knew exactly what she was doing and
had perfect control over her legs and what harm she could cause with
them. She seemed to know exactly how long and how hard she could
squeeze without causing too much damage. Once again she let him go
just before he would pass out. But she still wasn’t finished. She had made
him apologize to me, but that of course was not her real reason for this
treatment. Like she had said before, she just loved playing this game of
hers and when she got started she didn’t want to stop.
To my big surprise she took off her jeans shorts and to my bigger
surprise she wore nothing under them. She told me she wanted to show
me a third version of the standing head scissor. A version that would
bring her even more pleasure than the previous ones. Then she turned
her slave around so that he was sitting down facing her and so that she
was still facing me. She stood closely to him and grabbed his head and
caressed it while pressing it to her private parts. Like a good boy he
obeyed her order to stick out his tongue and put it to good use.
After a while she stepped forward and still holding his head she first
placed her right leg over his left shoulder and then her left leg over his
right shoulder. Pulling his head deeper into her crotch and his tongue
deeper into her sex, she crossed her ankles again and held him tightly
with her scissored legs. As she moved forward and bent her knees
a bit he was more lying down than sitting now. Then she suddenly
straightened up and the effect was amazing. As she was quite tall and as
she got up on her toes again her victim left the floor with every part of
his body except his feet. He was literally hanging from her scissored legs.
She removed her hands from his head and placed them on the washing
machines for balance. His head didn’t move an inch when she removed
her hands from it. She held him just as tightly using her legs only. He
had to be quite heavy so the strength of her legs was impressive beyond
belief. The pain in Eric’s neck must have been excruciating as he hang
between her hard pressing thighs.
I guess he knew that his only road to rescue was the use of his tongue.
She wouldn’t release him until he had given her the full amount of
pleasure she wanted. Apparently he was good with his tongue, as she
seemed to be rapidly approaching an orgasm. Her eyes were fixed on
mine and her smile was back in its full erotic enticement. I can’t believe
I just stood there watching this scene. But Frida wanted me to watch it
and what Frida wanted Frida made sure she got. She came with the same
familiar overwhelming sounds I had heard about an hour ago, but this
time there was no wall between her and me.
Frida spread her scissored legs and Eric fell to the floor on his back.
She sat down straddling his body catching her breath. Her eyes were
all over me and I’m sure her smile mirrored my both embarrassed and
excited expression. She could undoubtedly see my rock hard erection and
I bet my face was as red as Eric’s.
”So I hope you’re satisfied with Eric’s apology. Now is there anything
else I can do for you?”
I still didn’t say anything. I simply couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She
finally gave me a big smile and told me to come over to her. I managed
to make my feet take the three steps necessary for this. I was standing
right above poor Eric’s almost purple head. She moved towards me a bit
and sat down on Eric’s face carefully placing her sex over his nose and
mouth. This insatiable woman was ready for action again! She reached
out and unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down releasing my excited
organ. Before I could react all of the same organ was inside her greedy
mouth.
I can’t begin to describe the immense pleasure Frida gave me that day
and this was just the start. Not only her legs were expert. She rode Eric’s
face violently up and down with my penis going up and down as well,
never leaving her mouth. As I soon exploded in her mouth she lifted up
Eric’s head between her thighs and squeezed it hard until she reached
another orgasm. This time I think it was without the aid of his tongue.
Finally she got up from Eric and told him to continue with the laundry.
She ordered him to dry her clothes and mine while she showed me the
mangle room.
”It is important that you as a foreign guest learns as much as possible
about Swedish laundry customs.”
She stripped off her red stockings and told Eric to wash them, as it had
been a sweaty afternoon. Before she dragged me into the mangle room
she grabbed another pair of stockings from the basket and brought them
with her. We went into the mangle room and she locked the door behind
us. There was dead silence in the room. The only sound I could hear was
that from the washing machines in the next room. Then her mesmerizing
voice broke the tense silence.
”Ok, so this is the mangle room and if you want to I’ll show you how to
mangle. I’m rather good at mangling, you know.”
I looked at her with mixed feelings, but all of them exciting ones.
She had clearly seen how much I admired her legs and what she could do
with them. Sure I was afraid of the excruciating pain that was awaiting
me. At the same time I just had to take this opportunity to get close to
the most beautiful pair of legs I could ever expect to see in my life. This
woman had such power over me I just couldn’t refuse her offer. I looked
deep into her eyes. She was very serious now and didn’t smile. It was as
if she wanted to show how much she would love playing her game with
me. The moment seemed important to her. She sincerely asked me to
play with her rather than ordering me. She was impossible to say no to
either way. I loved her. I wanted her to do that thing she loved to do to
me. I wanted her to love me. I wanted her to treat me rough. I wanted
her to dominate me. I longed for the mysterious mix of pleasure and pain
she had to offer. I longed to be wrapped up in her incredible legs.
”I know you’re good at mangling. I can’t imagine anyone being better
at it. I want you to show me everything about mangling. Please, Frida,
mangle me!”
She seemed surprised that I finally spoke and that I spoke so calmly.
I was getting over my initial shock now and was no longer afraid of the
intimacy between us. She gave me the biggest smile yet and then gave
me the tenderest kiss of my life.
Frida had guessed that I had a passion for legs and that’s why
she brought the stockings. She loved wearing long stockings on her
magnificent legs and always wore them when scissoring to enhance the
pleasure. In fact she never wore anything else on her legs since she
loved the feeling of the stockings caressing her powerful lower limbs.
Plus she wanted to be prepared for every scissoring opportunity. Pulling
on her stockings was like foreplay to her squeezing game. She loved to
do it slowly and sensuously while imagining the scissoring pleasures that
lay ahead. And she loved to watch a man watching her admiringly and
lustfully as she was pulling on her stockings. The best form of foreplay
though was what she had installed for me in the mangle room. She let
me dress her in her stockings.
It was a pair of white thin cotton stockings with green vertical stripes.
The stockings were still wet which only made it more exciting. It was
impossible to put them on quickly because they were wet and that suited
me perfectly. I wanted this moment to last forever. Frida sat back on a
bench and I kneeled before her on the floor. Extremely slow I pulled her
stocking up over every glorious part of her leg. The wet material clung
to the wonderful skin of her legs. I stretched the stocking as much as I
could and since it was wet it stretched out easily. It finally covered all of
Frida’s beautiful leg reaching her groin and emphasizing the beauty of
every line even more. The green stripes were as straight as they could
possibly be. The stocking embraced the leg as tightly as the legs were
soon to embrace me. I breathlessly repeated my labour of love with the
other leg. The work of art was finally complete. I sat back and admired
the most beautiful picture I’d ever seen.
We both tried to savour the moment as much as we could. I could
tell she was excited by my excitement. She loved that I loved her legs.
Then she told me I could touch them if I wanted to. I wanted nothing
else in the world. We proceeded to the next part of the foreplay with me
caressing and kissing her legs in wonderful wet stockings. I went over
every square inch with hands and mouth for what must have been close
to an hour. I dwelled on her calves for the longest while. Her calves were
so beautiful it could make me cry – and to think that I could touch them.
Finally we just couldn’t resist anymore and Frida pulled my head in
between her thighs and engulfed it. She squeezed me with a firm steady
pressure but not nearly as hard as she could. It was more like a caress
than a weapon of violence.
She repeatedly uncrossed her ankles and opened her legs wide and then
slowly scissored me again. I think she enjoyed the moment of applying
the scissor hold so much that she wanted to do it over and over again. I
enjoyed it to. It was paradise to see her astonishing legs as they opened
and then feel them as they closed. She kept me in this front head scissor
with my face in her nude crotch for a long time. I loved being embraced
by her legs so sensuously and almost gently but at the same time firmly
and unhesitatingly. Although she didn’t use her full leg power on me I
could feel how strong and skilful her legs were and I knew that she would
soon increase the pressure. I felt the overwhelming strength of her legs
and I still had the images of those legs destroying Eric playing on the
movie screen of my mind. I was afraid of what she was going to do to me
but at the same time I could hardly wait to experience the full power and
skill of the most beautiful legs in the world. Frida’s legs made me tremble
in anticipation of the pleasure and pain that was awaiting me.
After a long while in the front head scissor she released me and told
me to turn around. I sat on the floor with my back towards the bench
and she sat close to me on the bench and scissored my neck and head
from behind. This was an even greater scissor hold for me as I could see
most of her legs the whole time. The sight of her opening and closing her
legs was the best yet. The feel of her muscular thighs in wet stockings
pressing against my ears and silencing the sounds of the washing
machines in the next room made me feel that nothing in the world
existed except Frida’s legs.
She gradually started to squeeze me harder now and I felt completely
at her mercy. Locked in with her in the mangle room she could do
whatever she felt like whether I wanted to or not. To my surprise I loved
the feeling of giving up myself and surrendering to a strong dominating
female. She was in full control and my capitulation to her legs was
unconditional. Isn’t that how true love should be?
I caressed her bulging leg muscles as they did their sweet torture on
me. When she stretched her legs as far out as she could the pain was
unbelievable and her muscles were magnificent to behold and to touch.
Her knees were almost touching and I could hardly believe that there was room for my poor neck between her closely pressed thighs. Then
she eased up on the pressure and brought her right calf up to my Adams
apple almost choking me. She told that this hold was called a figure four
as she locked her right ankle behind her left knee. I felt her heavenly
huge calf as she pressed it against me. If she had strangled me right
there and then it would have been a wonderful way to die.
Then she stretched out her legs again and continued working on the
aching sides of my neck and head. Even if she still was far from using her
full leg power I realized that the foreplay was over now. This was some
serious squeezing and it hurt like hell. She started bending and stretching
her legs now. After bending them slowly she then snapped them hard
as she stretched out quickly causing incredible pain. Then she used her
hands for the first time holding my chin and pulling my head towards
her crotch as I had seen her do with Eric. Continuing the bending and
stretching treatment while holding my head made me scream out loud for
the first time. For every variation she used now the pain was greater. She
knew exactly what effect every variation had and had total control over
the amount of pressure she used. I had long since been convinced that
she had had a lot of practice at this game of hers.
Finally she pulled my head in even harder as she opened her legs one
last time and then slam her thighs shut hard. The scissor hold could not
have been applied any tighter as she recrossed her ankles and stretched
out her legs high up in the air in front of me. The mangling had definitely
begun. This hold must be even more powerful than the similar one she
used on Eric, because that time she was standing up and now she was
sitting down, not needing to use her legs for support and balance, just for
squeezing.
By now she had me screaming at the top of my lungs but she didn’t
stop. She kept squeezing away with what felt like maximum pressure for
what felt like an eternity. I was sure she was going to decapitate me. I
was amazed of the incredible strength of her legs. I knew by now that
she had very strong legs but this surpassed even my wildest imagination
of what she could do to me with those legs. How could she keep up that
tremendously hard and steady pressure for so long? I began to see stars
and then it started to black out as she finally released me. I fell to the
floor and as from afar I heard her heavy breathing over me. Apparently
the heavy breathing came from the effort of squeezing so long and hard
but even more so from another orgasm. I realized she could get really
powerful orgasms just by rubbing something hard against her crotch
while scissoring and squeezing it. She sat down beside me and gave me a
kiss and complimented me for my durability.
You’d think that after what caused all the noises last night she’d be
tired. You’d think that after the encore in her apartment this noon she’d
be tired. You’d think that after squeezing Eric in three different standing
head scissors and reaching two orgasms she’d be tired. You’d think that
after squeezing me from the bench in two head scissors that lasted very long and ended in an orgasm she’d be tired. Did she want to quit now?
No. The mangling had only begun. She asked me if I could take anymore.
I said I’d rather die than quit now as I was definitely in heaven already.
She started squeezing me again this time in a body scissors from the
side with both of us sitting on the floor. It was slow and gentle at first and
we were kissing at the same time as her legs embraced my lower torso.
After a while she lay me down on my back with her left leg under me and
her right leg pressing me down. She encircled my waist with her legs and
used her arms to cling close to my body. In a perfectly executed body
scissors hold she gave me a short sample squeeze that convinced me
that her body scissors could be just as devastating as her head scissors.
She continued by showing me a series of body scissors from the side,
back and front. For every hold she increased the pressure a little. This
series culminated with me standing up on the floor and her scissoring me
in a reversed body scissor from the side with her hands on the bench.
Even in this acrobatic position she applied so much pressure that I had to
beg her to stop and submit to her triumphant limbs.
Frida proceeded with showing me a great number of samples from her
personal scissor catalogue. I was lying down, sitting on the floor, lying
on the bench, sitting on the bench and standing up as she scissored
my head and neck from all angles, in a number of positions and using
stretched legs, bent legs and figure fours. The variations seemed endless
but all good things must come to an end. She had left the best scissor
hold for the finale.
She laid me down on the floor and sat over my face in a reverse
position. I immediately started kissing and licking her pussy. She
leaned forward and I could feel her mouth devouring my long since
erected penis. Then just as I thought that this would be straight sex she
scissored my head again. She held my head up with her thighs in a rather
comfortable position that enabled me to reach her sex perfectly with
my tongue. As we were reaching great mutual pleasure she stopped her
wonderful mouth work and leaned back and grabbed my head by the hair
with one hand. She opened her legs slightly and pulled my head into her
crotch and closed her legs again. I knew what was coming (and who was
coming). Every time she adjusted my head’s position like this I knew she
was ready to squeeze as hard as she wanted to. I kept licking like mad as
she squeezed me harder. It was as if she was in control of my licking by
the force of her legs. The harder she squeezed the faster I licked and the
more excited she became the harder she squeezed. It was an up going
spiral of pleasure and pain that would make the perfect finale of our long
session in the mangle room.
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  #2  
Old 25-Jun-12, 05:08
smirnoff smirnoff is offline
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Default Re: Mangle Me (A Good Story Of Scissors)

Frida was clearly in ecstasy now breathing heavy and moaning as she
squeezed harder and harder. I could feel my own excitement increasing
to a level that surpassed everything I’d ever experienced. It was as if
Frida’s squeezing thighs were pumping up my erected penis to get even
harder and bigger. I felt that I was approaching an orgasm even without the help of Frida’s mouth. I never imagined that a woman’s legs could
have such power over my penis. Finally as Frida seemed to be close to
another orgasm she suddenly took my penis in her mouth again. It was
a pleasure unknown to me and I understood why people talk about the
little death. Frida was about to kill me with her legs and her mouth. Her
lips embraced my mouth just as tight and hard as her thighs embraced
my head. My head was as deep in her crotch as it could possibly be and
my penis was as deep in her mouth. Her mouth, my tongue and her
legs were working harder and harder and I was amazed that the orgasm
didn’t come sooner. The level of excitement and pleasure brought us
beyond where the orgasm usually comes. We finally both reached an
orgasm that was stronger and lasted longer than any other we’ve had
before. Our bodies exploded in spasms that seemed to never stop. I
guess all this was due to everything that had happened in the laundry
rooms this afternoon. It was the longest and most exciting foreplay and
sex I had ever had. And it all happened because of the beautiful and
strong and educated legs of wonderful Frida.
When we finally left the mangling room it was 19.00. I had enjoyed
Frida’s legs for six hours and she must have had more orgasms in one
day than ever before. At least two other neighbours had been in the next
room filling and emptying washing machines after Eric. I hadn’t heard
them; maybe because of Frida’s thighs bending my ears a lot. Had they
heard us? They must have heard us even more clearly than I heard Frida
and Eric last night. We didn’t care.
Totally exhausted we went to Frida’s apartment for a shower and
a meal. Eric had taken care of our laundry and left a note saying he
wouldn’t come back tonight. Frida explained to me that Eric wasn’t her
boyfriend. She had met him in a gym and they had started training
grappling and Brazilian ju-jitsu together. Even though their private
wrestling sessions had led to sex a couple of times it was still more of a
professional relationship.
On the walls of Frida’s apartment there were some photos of her
wrestling with men and dominating them using scissor holds. She told
me she had been scissoring men for as long as she could remember and
now she was sometimes doing photo shoots and videos for companies
that had Internet sites. That evening we watched a video Frida had made
for a company in London during her recent trip. It was a very sexy video
with Frida dressed as a soccer player squeezing a referee that gave
her a red card. She bursts into the referee’s locker room, pulls up her
soccer stockings thigh high and knocks all three referees out with her
legs using scissor holds. Towards the end of the sexy video Frida had her
legs around my neck again as I sat down on the floor in front of her and
begged her to do to me what she was doing to the third referee.
For the love of Frida I have now left my first girlfriend and moved
to Sweden. We play our wonderful game as often as we can and our
imagination seems limitless when it comes to inventing different ways of playing it. But at least once a month, as a celebration of how it all
started, when we do our washing, we go into the mangle room.



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