My phone’s browser got redirected to a website with a parchment layout. A quill gif swished over the screen and pronounced, ‘Congratulations! You ...are now a RealLoveLetters recipient. You will be redirected to your sender,’ before the page collapsed and sent me back to the messenger.Nothing seemed to have happened. Huh.Me: Alright. What was this, babe?Her: Did you click on it?Me: Yeah. Nothing happened.Me: What’s RealLoveLetters?Her: Magic! She followed up by sending the Shia LaBeouf gif we had. Rain started pouring outside with the occasional crash of the thunder following a flash of lightning.Finding this odd not hearing about the storm on the radio, he started checking the news channels on the tube but found nothing mentioning anything about it.As far as the t.v. weatherman was concerned there was no storm in L.A., in fact it was supposed to be clear skies for the next two days.Going to the window Julian noticed that the storm seemed only to exist just over the street that they were. I knew they would never work. He had s*******n years on me. Still, I wanted to keep playing, learning from this master until I would beat him at his game. Tonight, I would give it a try. “Where have you been?” he wants to know.“Out with some friends,” my hands slide over my warm breasts.“Who?”“Just friends.” The last of the summer breezes had chased my back to academia, two more years and another degree. With the distance between them, the relationship had devolved to mostly this: late night. She told me her girlfriend paid for her boob lift. That shocked me when she said girlfriend. I asked if she was gay or bi. She said if her girl friend was there,she's gay. But she said she loves a nice long thick dick when she gets one. That's why she got the job here. We played around with each others breasts a few more minutes, before closing up the store. As we walked in the parking lot to our cars, she told me to take the subway to main office. She said there's not a lot of parking.