<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Adam Smith on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/adam-smith/</link><description>Recent content in Adam Smith on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2018 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/adam-smith/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Fan Mail</title><link>/stories/2018/10/01/fan-mail/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/10/01/fan-mail/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;If I’d expected anything to come from it, I’m not sure what I would have done. We’d formed a casual online friendship after I sent her a fan letter over one of her stories. There’d never been any real hard-core flirting or anything; she had a husband and daughter, and I was also married. Neither of our partners were interested in our kinks, but we both preferred stories to random cybersex.
I got the email the day before I was due to leave for my trip. “Hey, you mentioned that you’re going to be in Denver this week, right? I’ve got a business trip there, too. Want to grab dinner?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>