Today is Mitzi’s twenty-seventh birthday.
She’s feeling ancient. “I’m not in my mid-twenties anymore,” she laments. “I’m in my late twenties now—that’s almost thirty!”
“Poor kid,” I laugh.
Of course, I offer what consolation I can.
Last night marked the last orgasm of her mid-twenties. This morning, the first of the thousand-day slide into her third decade.
And the second. And the third. And . . .
Gentle readers, show an old lady some kindnesses, won’t you?
And, if you like, revisit the blindfolded gangbang I gave her for her last birthday. All those boys, and still she made time for her first taste of pussy.
They grow up so fast.
Also, thanks to those of you who expressed concern about the apparent demise of my blog on Sunday. There was some snafu at Blogger which murdered One Life, Take Two.
As Blogger announced that everything was back to normal, I fretted that my beautiful blog remained invisible.
“Did you try republishing?” Viviane asked.
More evidence that being Jefferson is too large a task for one man.
Speaking of birthdays, shall we catch up on the activities of my birthday week of wall-to-wall sex?
It all begins with the next post.