I was lucky. I found Kelly early, and escaped playing the endless, frustrating games, haunting the bars and beaches and exercise clubs. She's my best friend, playmate, confidant, refuge. She's shared my bed for four years, my house for three, and my thoughts, it seems, for a thousand. Sometimes it seems as though everything I know about myself came to me through her. Lucky, too, because it's hard to imagine a more satisfying love partner. I've known two kinds of passion. The first is like a carefully built hearth fire, warm and satisfying, but measured and controlled. The other is what Kelly and I have -- a wildfire, unplanned and unpredictable. Kelly's look, her touch, her voice are all charged with a rich, joyful sensuality. She can take control with an earthy lust or give herself up in elegant surrender. And she has the magic secret of involving herself fully in her lovemaking, focusing her energy, freeing her senses. In short, she's been latina women free latina sites everything that any one woman can be -- imaginative, enthusiastic, a many-faceted gem. The only thing Kelly can't be is someone else. That may not sound like much of a limitation. It didn't sound like much of one to me, either -- until I met Cassie. # It was supposed to be a quiet little three-day trip to Washington. A college in Olympia had asked Kelly to conduct a seminar in her specialty, women's history. I went along to share the driving and escape for a while from the world of blueprints, bids, and budgets where I made my living. One of Kelly's faults is that she'll never pay for a hotel when she can impose on a friend. Cassie, she explained, lived on the Olympic Peninsula, twenty miles from the city and thirty miles from the Pacific Coast. "I haven't seen her for three years. I'll bet she'd be glad to put us up." Remembering past lumpy beds and crowded bathrooms, hairy teen free latina sites I asked dubiously, "Are you sure?" "Don't worry," was the cheery reply. "You'll like Cassie." I clung to that feeble promise when Kelly realized an hour into the trip that she'd forgotten her presentation slides, and when the air-conditioner on the Rabbit died before we reached the Oregon border. It wasn't much comfort. I was hot and road-weary and wishing I'd stayed home by the time we crept up the winding forest road to the tiny natural-wood A-frame perched on the hillside. But when I turned the key off and escaped from my seat, the beauty of the fir-covered hills improved my outlook. Cassie improved it even more. She came bounding down the steps from the front deck in white shorts and a bikini top and greeted us both with enthusiastic hugs. The hug she gave me ran about three seconds long and fifty watts hot, and left my senses 100% free latina galleries free latina sites jangling. Cassie was
