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Indiscreet Affiliations First 4 Chapters (22 Pages)

Indiscreet Affiliations First 4 Chapters (22 Pages)

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Published by Charlie
I have no clue what Tamil Sex Stories are but I have my own little story, a novel actually, that contains some of the more graphic and funny sex scenes. Take a read and please feel free to let me know what you think of the first 4 chapters. Thanks Charlie
I have no clue what Tamil Sex Stories are but I have my own little story, a novel actually, that contains some of the more graphic and funny sex scenes. Take a read and please feel free to let me know what you think of the first 4 chapters. Thanks Charlie

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Published by: Charlie on Jul 13, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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06/11/2013

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Indiscreet Affiliations
-1-Ramblings of a Sinner 
I don’t remember the day I woke up and realized my hairline was receding.Was it after my stomach extended past my penis or before? Did the stress lines start to crease myforehead or the crow’s feet begin to age my eyes? Here I was, thirty-seven years of age and onewould think half my life was already behind me. There comes a day in every middle aged man’slife where you start to think, “I could have done this different or that different. If only I hadfollowed this path or chosen some other person to idolize or profession to pursue.”You start to believe you could have made a difference in the world or been a star if youhad gone after that sport that you loved with a passion that had long ago died out long ago.The seconds of a day become the drumbeat which, in turn, became the minutes thatdrafted into the long monotonous hours in which you drag yourself to work everyday to try tokeep up with your bills. You become afraid of your own shadow for the fear lurking in the great beyond outside of your office: fearful of your co-workers ratting you out for staring into space atyour desk, taking a little longer cigarette break than everyone else, taking a little longer lunchwith a decidedly more liquid diet!If this sounds like the characteristics of a depressed person I believe we are on the same page.My name is Michael Biancho and this is the way my life was trudging along day after day, week after week, year after year. After riding a tremendous wave in the financial markets inthe late 90’s, I watched my life slowly slide into the abyss. After going through the rituals of  New York-based southern Italians – born in Brooklyn, raised in Staten Island (before you couldsee the garbage dump from space) and finally settling with my family in New Jersey – my worldfelt like it was starting to crumble.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I had Lisa, a beautiful faithful wife, who no sane man would reject.She was devoted loving and as I will explain, we still had some intimacy. Although having anEarthworm from Chernobyl between my legs left me wanting more, of course She was my rock and constantly stood by me when I made decisions good or bad, whether or not she agreed. Howcould I ask for more? I had two of the most beautiful kids you ever met in Rocco and Maria; Ihad a nice moderately priced house, a Honda Passport (I’m not a big car lover) two cats, a dog, a pair of birds and enough room to always take in a house guest. Compared to anyone else, lifedidn’t seem so bad. How could things be that bad with an average income in excess of $250,000a year for the previous five years, and a wife who allowed me to go to topless bars and actuallyencouraged me to get out and enjoy life?I guess you could look at my son or for that matter any normal three and a half year old toget to the crux of the matter. I was bored and spoiled. And I wasn't three and a half.After 15 years with the same woman, all the challenges you face and conquer as you build your relationship get played out; culminating in the birth of my children, which any self-respecting parent will tell you changes everything. Spoiled in the sense that my opinion or inputnow was no longer the top priority in the household...and I was lucky if I was thought of in thecourse of a day. I was way down on the center of attention list, and although I publicly said itdidn’t bother me, it most certainly did.Drinking didn’t hold the same appeal it did when I was twenty when the first pangs of myulcer hit and I slowed down radically. Heavy drugs always scared me. When you are over fifty pounds overweight and you are constantly reminded that the weight plus smoking two packs aday can lead to a heart attack, you don’t think about drugs as a fallback option. Even somethingas mild as smoking pot to try to take off the edge didn’t do it for me because I still felt the paranoid delusions ten years after my last experience. Since I was raised Catholic by an Italian
 
mother who thought all priests were nice men and could never do wrong, suicide was totally outof the question. Besides, everyone hits a little rut in the road now and then, and I was always ableto rally out of my ruts.Except for Pat Orlando, my best friend of 27 years, probably nobody figured me for anything other than the usual happy go lucky guy. Pat knew me from my younger carefree dayswhen I had no problem throwing caution to the wind. The time of my life where I would get paidon a Friday and drink enough to be broke on Monday.I worked in the Investment Banking firm of Holden, Smith and Tate, which had beenaround for seven short years. After the first five, because of my experience, I made partner andwas put in charge of 
The Training 
program at the company. At the time, it seemed like a dreamcome true that I got to mold young eager broker trainees into solid veterans. The time Icommitted to the success of my charges greatly increased as the sales force training staff grew.There were some nice success stories, which came out of my apprentices. I had developed a nicemodel to which to compare new trainees who came to the firm after the beginning. In earlyFebruary, things were coasting along. Then the markets hit some snags, but everyone battledthrough and kept the proverbial stiff upper lip. Slowly, as autumn turned to winter, people beganto become disgruntled, though no fault could be placed on anything other than the normalfluctuations of any financial market. It became a grind to keep that positive mindset whiledealing with 40 trainees, hundreds of clients, losses in the millions, and the slowly erodingconfidence of just about everyone.I felt trappedWe all did.That’s probably the reason why I accepted the invitation to go on the trip. As a group, weall felt the need for a release, to burn off a little energy, let out a little steam, and remember what

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