<?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>Jimtied on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/jimtied/</link><description>Recent content in Jimtied on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 29 Jan 2016 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/jimtied/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Karen</title><link>/stories/2016/01/29/karen/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Jan 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/01/29/karen/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I’d known Karen for two years, admiring her from a distance and doing a lot of fantasizing. I taught English and she was the school nurse two days a week, but we’d still managed to have plenty of chats and several lunches together. I really liked her, even outside of my bondage fantasies, and she seemed to like me. I knew she was married, with two kids in their teens. I’d been single for ten years. Both of us were pushing forty hard. Innocence was a thing of the past. And suddenly, here we were, at a district conference two hundred miles from home, and Karen had come alone, and there I was to keep her company. We attended some meetings together, had coffee, a lunch, and then the second night of the conference there was a dance.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>