YakimaChapter 11: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back free porn video

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Our evenings during the summer were divided between sitting out on the deck or watching TV if we weren't at the ball park with Jack. Ali came to every game and cheered Jack on, always supportive and never critical if he made a mistake. She knew enough about baseball to know Jack was trying hard and getting better with each game. More importantly, Jack loved to play, just like his special older brother, Matt. With T-Ball, he was guaranteed to play in every game, so it was fun to watch him get joy from the weekly contests. He had a bunch of pals on the team as well as some on other teams, so there was lots of social interaction.

Ali and Jack also accompanied me to every Babe Ruth game that Matt played. Matt was clearly Jack's idol, and he was very impressed with Matt's skills as he fielded and hit. When Matt wasn't playing third base he was in left field and, with a mid-three-hundreds average, he was batting clean-up. Matt was also the alternate captain to his friend, Donny Scroggs, the catcher. He was so much happier in Babe Ruth than he would have been as a sophomore on the high school team. I wondered if he'd even try out for the school team in his junior year.

By the time the third treatment was done in mid-July, I could begin to see the results. Dr. Sylvan suggested two more treatments should be enough and then the reconstructive surgery on my ear could be scheduled. I wasn't looking forward to anything but getting this whole process over with. It was unpleasant and painful, but since it was working, I tolerated it.

My other problem, however, had not gone away. I wondered why I still kept my townhouse. It was a monthly mortgage payment plus utilities for no purpose. Was I destined to be living with Reese, Ali, and the children permanently? I was resolved that that was not going to happen. As much as I appreciated what they felt they were doing for me, I was getting the impression I was no longer in charge of my life. It had been taken over by two strong-willed women, aided and abetted by three children. When I was finished with Dr. Sylvan, I would be moving back to the townhouse, no matter what.

I think the women and children noticed my change in mood over the summer. I wasn't as happy as I normally would be. I was irritable with them now and then, usually for no good reason. It was better at work. I didn't feel the pressure there. I knew my job, I did it well, and the personal relationships were straightforward and professional. It was at home that I was uncomfortable. If even I noticed it, then it was probably worse than I realized. I didn't want to be angry or testy with anyone, let alone my temporary extended family. In early August, I made a decision and called Dr. Menard.

"Doctor, can you recommend a psychologist ... or maybe even a psychiatrist for me? I'm having trouble with anger and frustration, and I'm sure I'm hurting those around me at home."

"Mr. Rideout, I suggest you contact your insurance carrier. They will have a list of possible choices. Make sure you let them know this is a continuing consequence of your injuries. I'm sure you will be covered."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll do that. I also wanted you to know that I can see the improvement that Dr. Sylvan is making, so I'm more confident that I'll be restored to something closely approximating normal ... the way I was."

"I'm very pleased to hear that. Good luck to you, Mr. Rideout."

I wasn't surprised he couldn't give me a direct referral, but I should have realized our insurance carrier for the city would be able to. I called their information number and got a list of potential doctors and practitioners to use. I had no idea who to use or how to decide, so I chose to begin with psychologists. Not all of them were doctors. I picked a name that sounded likely and called his office.

"I'd like to make an appointment with Mr. Farnsworth, please," I told the receptionist on the phone.

"It's Ms. Farnsworth, sir. Can I get your name and telephone number please?"

We went from there, giving her my basic contact information, where I worked and that this would be an insurance claim. She indicated she could fit me in for a "preliminary discussion" with Ms. Farnsworth early next week. That discussion would apparently decide if she was the right person to help me.

I said nothing to anyone other than my boss about my decision to get some professional help. He was surprised, since he hadn't seen any sign of my problems. However, he was most supportive and authorized my requested weekly time off. I almost had second thoughts about the person I chose when I realized it was a woman. On the list of potential psychologists, she was simply listed as M. L. Farnsworth. However, I decided not to prejudge her and would determine whether we were a good fit after we talked.

The initial interview began more like my having coffee with a new neighbor. She was trying to get to know me and more about me, I assumed. I was trying to figure out what she might be able to do to help me. It was too early to tell. It wasn't until about fifteen minutes after we introduced ourselves that she got down to some key questions.

"Tell me why you sought out my help, Mr. Rideout."

"I'm not who I used to be. This past year has been a horror story that I hope I will never have to repeat. I discovered my wife was having an affair and planned to leave me and marry her lover. She and he were going to extract a punishing amount in alimony and child support until my lawyer put a stop to it. My divorce was final just before the end of the year and I still have good access to my children.

"At a New Year's party, I met a woman and we seemed to become very close in a very short period of time. Almost the moment we became intimate, I had an accident in my car and was severely injured. I've been recovering from that accident and I'm still in treatment for damage to my face and ear," I said, pointing to the right side of my head.

"As part of my recovery, I moved back into my old home and my ex-wife and my new lady take turns looking after me. Other than the treatments to restore my face and ear, I'm completely healed. However, I can't seem to break away from this situation and regain the life I had before. I feel like I've lost control of my life. I don't want to hurt anyone and I am grateful for all their help, but I need to find a way to get my life back in order and regain some control over my future."

"That's a very confusing story, Mr. Rideout. You say you are living with your ex-wife and she's being assisted by your new lady friend? Explain, please."

I started at the beginning with my discovery of Reese's affair with Gordon Winters, my moving out, the original demands of their lawyer, my lawyer's successful strategy and the decision of the judge. Then I told her about the New Year's party, my romance with Ali, and getting to know Jack, her son. I also told her about Winters abandoning the marriage to my ex-wife and the strategy to make him responsible for his promises. Finally, I told her about the accident, the recovery in hospital, the out-of-court settlement and my going to live in my old home.

"That's a fascinating story, Graham, if I may call you that," she smiled. "Please feel free to call me Mary."

I think we both had come to the conclusion that Mary Farnsworth was interested in my situation and wanted to work with me. I decided then and there that I would. She was in her mid-fifties, I guessed. She was slim, gray-haired, with piercing gray eyes and a friendly smile. I liked her style and her professional manner. I felt I was in good hands.

"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you about this. On the face of it, you're very fortunate, all things considered. You've at least socially reconciled with your ex-wife and have found a woman you think you may be in love with. You have a fine job and a great relationship with your children and Ms. Bledsoe's son. What is it that doesn't feel right?"

I paused before I answered. "This is going to sound very ... sexist ... Mary. I feel like I'm being dominated by these two women. I'm being told what to do and when to do it and that's not the kind of relationship I want with either of them. Reese ... Clarissa ... is the mother of my children and I want a civil relationship with her. I have some very fond memories of our life together and I don't want that to be overshadowed by her mistake. But there isn't going to be any reconciliation. That will never happen.

"Ali is another matter altogether. There is absolutely nothing in her personality or physical makeup in common with Reese. She is very smart, driven, strong-willed, passionate, protective ... I could probably go on, but I'm sure you get the idea. As much as I admire all she has accomplished as a single mother, I'm looking for an equal partner. I'm wondering if she wouldn't want to continue as the dominant figure in our relationship. Is that who she really is? As much as I love being with her, I don't think I could handle a steady dose of that."

Mary sat back, her note pad in her lap, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Have you ever talked to her about your feelings?"

"No. I admit, I'm chicken," I grinned. "With all they've done for me, I feel guilty about my state of mind. It would seem disrespectful of their efforts to care for me when I needed help. I really don't know how to approach them ... particularly Ali."

"Yes ... I can imagine that would be difficult. Our hour is almost up, Graham. Can I assume you would like to continue these sessions?"

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm hoping we can find a solution to my concerns."

"I'm going to send you a questionnaire in a couple of days. You should keep this private from your family and others. I want you to give this some thought and try and be as honest as you can with your answers. What I want to do with it is attempt to determine a course of action for you. I'm not a believer in medication and I don't think you are depressed. I think between us, we can work out a practical solution to your concerns."

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Deep under the earth, in the realm of gloom, and death Hades sat contemplating his predicament. There on his thrown, sitting next to his three-headed dog Cerberus, was Hades clothed in dark robes, waves of silk black hair to his shoulders, a beard like most Greeks which showed his intelligence that was achieved over the many centuries, weaved with the muscles of a true male god, and the face of a warrior who has had to live an existence in the darkness far too long....

Stepping Out With Steph Part Two

Having enslaved Stephanie, Blair and Joanna still had to deal with the fact that she was probably pregnant with Blair's child, and the fact would soon get out to his staff. True, he was the boss, but would his employees ever respect him after this episode of incest? The couple agreed that Stephanie would stay at home to babysit Oscar during the day, and that she would do all of the household chores as well. Only then would she be rewarded with sex and other privileges. She would also have to...

Dear Stepdaddy the 2012 Annual

Introduction As many readers know, Stepdaddy's blog consists primarily of the "Dear Stepdaddy" advice column, a sort of hebephilic Ann Landers, if you will. Of course, these are all just the fantasies of my correspondents, and my fictionalized responses. This collection takes its place as the second Annual of these letters, the second of what I hope will be many more in the years to come. However, that depends upon you. Please send me your "fictionalized" letters, to fuel the flame in...

Stepdaddy Boi

‘Pomp & Circumstance’ began playing over the loudspeakers. The graduating class of Eleanor Roosevelt High School marched inside. The boys wore green robes while all of the girls were wearing white ones. In the stands, sat the family of Claro Booker. The s*******n year old’s mother, Belinda, was present with both of her sisters. His stepdad rounded out the crew that came to cheer him on. He had been a star pupil. And finished in the top ten percent of his class.When his family saw him enter,...

Dear Stepdaddy the 2011 Annual

Introduction Many readers may be unaware that Stepdaddy's blog consists primarily of my "Dear Stepdaddy" advice column, a sort of hebephilic Ann Landers, if you will. Of course, these are all just fantasies, mine and my correspondents'. Here at year end, 2011, I am compiling this year's collection into the first of what I hope will be many "annuals". These have been edited lightly, and in particular some numbers have been corrected. At the end of this work, please join me again to...

Boris meets Goddess Persephone

And yet, Boris always believed he was in control. How fool of him, and to that he could only agree, bound and sweating as he was, on the floor in the men’s bathroom of the night club, eyes closed so he could pretend he was not anticipating the moment he’d be finally pimped out in real life by a woman he had never met in the flesh before tonight. *** It all began with a simple click, as it always does, doesn’t it? Your usual ?Follow? button on twitter, one of hundreds accounts of dominant women...

A WellLived Life Book 8 StephieChapter 15 Moving Forward Part II

March 1983, Chicago, Illinois “Hi,” I said sheepishly. “I’m sorry I hung up on you.” “And I’m sorry I called you a jackass and told you to grow up,” Joyce said. “I had no right to do that. Except for not talking to me, you’ve handled everything in a mature manner.” “Yes and no. Kathy pointed out that I’ve been lying to myself saying that I was through with Kara. On the other hand, it’s true that there isn’t anything I can really do about it except move on. I’m going to send her a birthday...

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The Real Stepford Wives: Sugar Plum Fairy By VI This story is based on my favourite piece of TG fiction, which was written by the author Sarah Barndt. If you have never read 'The Real Stepford Wives: Only Women Have Babies' then please do so, as it is an imaginative and well told story. Thanks very much Sarah. ************************ I had been performing ballet since I was eight, and for the last six years had been with one of the American ballet companies. I think the fame...

OneBackpage

One Backpage! A website where you can buy anything. From a motorcycle to the hottest female escorts in town. Yes, this place has it all, and it’s called OneBackPage.com, though we’re probably going to focus on the adult part of the website here. I know that you guys are here to fuck some chicks and not to look for restaurants to dine in, and you know that I always work in favor of my wonderful audience. And when I say wonderful, I mean you bunch of greasy fat bastards.All sorts of escorts and...

A Fresh StartChapter 59 Colonel Featherstone

When I woke again, everything seemed very bright. Not the bright at the end of the tunnel, just bright, like a bright room. By the time I got around to opening my eyes, I fell asleep again. It seemed like this went on a few more times before I managed to get my eyes open enough to see where I was. I could see a white ceiling of some sort, and I tried to move, but I couldn’t move. I could feel things, but I couldn’t move. I was able to turn my head, and rise slightly, and it looked like I was...

Wishbone Along Came Jacki

Wishbone: Along Came Jacki By The Sympathetic Devil [email protected] Dave came home from work early, his bitchy boss having told him he wouldn't be needed there anymore. He hated his life! How was he ever going to get laid when he was unemployed and still lived in his mother's apartment at 25? Something was weird. His mother's clothes are scatted all over the living room. She pitched a fit if Dave so much as left his jacket on the arm of the couch, but now her bra is...

Mirror Memories 1 Sister Stephy Solo 1

MY MIGHTY MIRROR´S MEMORY HAS A SECRET -- A SWITCHABLE SEE-THROUGH SPECIALITY MY MIRROR is a new series with probably several sub-series of horny heroines of sexy scenarios it sawMY MIRROR starts with its first sub-series of my yummy younger sister: sweet sexy ´sexteen´ StephanieMY MIRROR IS WRITTEN ´WOMEN´S WOMB´S SEXY SECRETS STRICTLY FOR FEMALES ONLYMY MIRROR IS WRITTEN WITH ALL MY MIGHT WHICH I WILL WATCH OVER TO SPOT...

A WellLived Life Book 8 StephieChapter 14 Moving Forward Part I

February/March 1983, Chicago, Illinois On Monday after history class I went to the clinic and picked up the results of my tests, which were, as expected, negative. I tucked the form into my bag and headed to meet Stephie for lunch. The rest of the day was routine, and I hoped that the next two weeks before Spring Break would be uneventful. I needed two weeks of calm routine at this point, but I suspected life would not cooperate, since it rarely ever did. On Tuesday afternoon I headed to...

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