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convinced myself that the yellow stain on their crotch still retained a faint but perceptible essence of her. I reminded myself it was my actions that put that dried up patch right there. It came to me that if a drink of hot water and rye whisky plus my own hot lemon juice were shaken together, it might make that stale honey come alive again and flow into a Hot Toddy to lessen my misery. I pulled on Louises starchy panties, mixed up a mug of hot water, a shot of liquor and a teaspoon of sugar then climbed into my bed. My cure for loneliness worked just fine. I downed the booze and three minutes of buzzing away with my little hand vibrator melted our pussy juices together into a slippery goop that saturated the whole crotch of Louises panties. My initial orgasm came while I concentrated on the safe and secure manly scent of Dougs shirt. After a few minutes recovery, a faster, stronger round of vibrations pushed Louises creamy juices up into me. The thought of our fluids reuniting so homogeneously made me feel ever so complete. I slid my hand down inside the hot nylon panties and shoved in three fingers to check the progress of my recipe. Her creamy honey and my hot lemon pussy juice had mixed so perfectly in my pink little mug, that only a few more seconds of clit buzzing sent me into a second shuddering orgasm. . Dougs cardiologist called me the following morning, informed me his enzymes were indeed elevated, confirming hed had a heart attack. Anxiety and tearful conclusions clouded my drive to the hospital. Doug was still quite pale and lethargic. I was told that the clot busters, blood thinners and blood pressure medications would cool him right down for a couple of months. I was told that a nuclear Thallium scan was necessary today to determine the extent of Dougs heart damage. The following day I rode by ambulance up to the City for an Angiogram. After the 45-minute procedure took 90 minutes, I was beside myself with worry, especially after that doctor showed me images of the two 90% blockages! He explained how theyd ballooned down the cholesterol lumps and installed two Stents to strengthen Dougs weakened arteries. On the positive side, he concluded that my husband could avoid imminent Bi-Pass surgery if he abandoned his unhealthy lifestyle. In less than twenty-four hours, I was forced through a crash course in heart disease and was then left to pick up the pieces of my life. Two more gut-wrenching days of tests showed that damage to his heart muscle was minimal, thank God. The following day, the life-style changes were explained to us. Low fat diets, rest, life-long medications, careful exercise and reduced stress were understandable but no sex for three months. How could I ever survive that? The day before Doug was to be released, I thought my salvation had been found. Louise was back. I



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spoke of pasts and futures and situations to be dealt with but Louise seemed oddly quiet. When I finally exhausted all of my concerns, she softly dropped a bomb on me. She told me, "I sold my Mothers house and have purchased an enchanting old house east of Cornwall on the Quebec side of the St. Lawrence River." Louise continued, "Every time I went home I passed by it and toyed with the idea of making it into a Bed and Breakfast, to get away from the madness of the GTA." I swear my heart stopped for a moment, then crumbled a little more. She told me there was plenty of room for my husband and me and showed me a bunch of drawings shed had prepared by an architect. My head was spinning, I was jumping to all kinds of conclusions and all I could see was that my life was in ruins. Louise listed her condo with a realtor the following week. The following day, Dougs boss called me. The prick informed me that Head Office at the Motors wasnt prepared to take chances on Dougs delicate condition and was pensioning him off as soon as his recovery period was over! Perfect! A hot lover lost to another province and a cool husband disabled by inherited heart disease! Is this how clinical depression starts? I tried to relax but every thought led back to my ongoing string of bad luck. I thought back and brooded yet again over the theft of my car and the loss of my laptop computer. I got the car back after a week or so but the computer, with my shameful little diary in it was nowhere to be found. Then three weeks later, after the insurance claim gave me a new one, the police department phoned to tell me my computer had been recovered. I seriously considered getting it back, until Doug pointed out Id have to give back the new one. I reminded him of my diary. He assured me that the only way I could be connected back to my stories would be by me physically retrieving my computer. I quickly realized there was no way I could handle the embarrassment of confronting a cop who may have read my diary. My Diary was gone and I was devastated. It wasnt that I read it over and over, it was that Id lost all those thoughts and feelings Id put into words. The insurance company replaced my computer, but the new one was just a little black box with no soul. I hooked it up to my phone line, loaded in my Sympatico disc and checked my e-mails. To my surprise, a mysterious message from myself was amongst the others. I opened it and was thrilled to find this message along with MY ENTIRE DIARY attached to it! Dear Laura, My name is Michelle and Id like to explain to you how this message found its way to you. My husband is a tow truck driver