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Let me tell you about David.
...at least, I think his name is David. It's either that or Daniel, or Denny, or some other name that begins with a D.
...or it's Brad.
Regardless, we'll call him David.
I met David one night at the Serpent. Like any good time at the Serpent, we made out and probably engaged in a little more fondling than is appropriate for a public place. I don't remember if we did anything that could be interpreted as sex, per se, but I know it was enough that the southern belle in me curled her toes a little bit and said, "Mama won't like this."
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