该死的英文, 总是让我有挫败感

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很难说, 我反应越来越迟钝, 我女儿建议我打打电子游戏, 但我对这个不敢兴趣。
我觉得现在口语肯定是比以前好太多了,我们不得不说啊。
 
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还有两道题,我本来觉得是送分题,就没有贴。为了检验一下你的可乐有木有效果。回答一下吧。



6. Which of these is not a word or expression that means ‘tea’?

a) a cuppa

b) char

c) Rosie Lea

d) Joe
Cuppa 这个跟本地人交流了一下, 她告诉我加拿大本地人不这样说,这是爱尔兰苏格兰等地的说法,她奶奶来自爱尔兰, 这样说, 她曾和奶奶一块儿生活, 她懂, 但她女儿就不懂了。
 
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Cuppa 这个跟本地人交流了一下, 她告诉我加拿大本地人不这样说,这是爱尔兰苏格兰等地的说法,她奶奶来自爱尔兰, 这样说, 她曾和奶奶一块儿生活, 她懂, 但她女儿就不懂了。
这个应该是,我是用的BBC的学英语的题。(y)
 

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偶遇闺蜜父亲 - 重温少女梦幻

Reddit 真人故事 洁本: Getting Soaking Wet Behind the Genius Bar: Or How I Saw My Ex-Best Friend's Dad Again (self.SluttyConfessions)

submitted 1 day ago by thankyoucumagain420

Jonrichards82 15 hours ago
Best thing I’ve ever read on this crazy mother fxxxer Reddit

badgirl_throwaway 5 hours ago
Girl. Message him. Why not? You're not friends with his daughter anymore and it sounds like he'd be an amazing fxxx. But please come back and tell us about what happens?

[–]thankyoucumagain420 5 hours ago
I did message him! Yesterday, almost 24 hours and no word yet...


I’m not sure if this confession fits in here. I’m not even sure if this is a confession. But this happened to me this week, and I can’t get it out of my head, and I love lurking on this sub. I’ve always wanted to have a story worthy of this place, but, I have to admit, my sex life is rather vanilla. Pretty active and satisfying: but largely vanilla (save for an errant experiment with butt plugs and maybe a few desperate moments of public stuff).

I’m a twenty-four year old woman. Currently, and hopefully not forever, I work in my town’s Apple Store. It’s a decent gig. I work behind the Genius bar, but I’m no genius. I only work on the mobile devices. I don’t know much about tech stuff, but luckily the job is 90% customer service/retail and 10% technical. At least in my experience so far.

Earlier this week, the father of my ex-best friend walked in. Let’s call him Steve, and let’s call his daughter Evelyn. Evelyn and I were inseparable from about 6thgrade until towards the end of high school. We were your classic mean girls. Luckily, I reformed; Evelyn didn’t. Evelyn’s mother died way before I met her, so Steve was the one who picked us up if we were hanging out afterschool, made us snacks, etc. Evelyn, and by extension me, was a total brat to her dad. Following her lead, I would barely say hello to him and never laugh at his dad jokes. The complication was that Steve was the hottest dad I had ever seen. He had a rock-hard body, which he wasn’t afraid to show in the summer; a handsome jaw line; steely blue eyes; a sexy salt-and-pepper hair. Even as a teen, I felt completely attracted to him. He was the subject of about 90% of my masturbation fantasies.

I was always quick to suggest having a sleepover at Evelyn’s house, in the hopes that something would happen. I wasn’t sure what, but something. Of course, it was all a fantasy. Until one night, around one in the morning, after everyone was supposedly asleep, I was walking back to Evelyn’s room from the bathroom, and I heard moaning coming from Steve’s room. I froze, I put my ear to the wall (too afraid to touch the door itself), and I listened. Steve was moaning softly. Or he was snoring. Or it was all in my head. But, in my memories at least, he was moaning, and then I heard the thwacking of skin-on-skin. I imagined his powerful hand gripping his private part, his accessories slapping against his leg. I imagine him imagining me, his daughter’s best friend, who was the first girl in her grade with decent breasts, who swam in his pool on hot days, and only wore the smallest bikinis, two sizes too small, for him, always for him. I was getting myself soaked in the dark hallway, listening at the wall. I touched myself, holding one hand over my mouth, while the other rubbed faster and faster. He stopped moaning, and I froze again. I raced back to Evelyn’s room, and jumped into bed. She was always a heavy sleeper. I laid there, with soaking wet panties and fingers.

Junior year, Evelyn and I had our last Big Fight, and called it quits. I gravitated towards the theater kids, and learned humility; Evelyn started doing coke and, after we graduated, moved to Arizona. I thought her dad had left town too. I went away for college, and had a bunch of that vanilla sex I mentioned. During my senior year, I started dating this marginally older dude. He was BIG into the whole “call me daddy” thing. I never understood that (my dad is a fat, jolly red-nosed Irish guy, so I never got why evoking him was sexy), but I tend to be a sexual chameleon, slightly changing my habits to confirm to the guy I’m with (hence the butt plug stuff, that was boyfriend number two). This guy made not-so-subtle hints that he wanted to be called daddy, so I tried it once during sex. Suddenly, I remembered not my dad, but Evelyn’s. I moaned “daddy” and thought of his chiseled body, I screamed “xxxx me daddy” and thought of that secret night of hallway moaning. I came harder than I have before. The guy thought he was a stallion. I knew it wasn’t him; it was Steve.

So, when he walked into the Apple Store, of course my hands are sweating. He sees me. I quickly go through the queue of names of people with Genius bar sessions, and I see his name. I select it, which means he is mine. Steve is just as sexy as I remembered him. A little more salt in his salt-and-pepper hair, a slight bit of stumble, which totally works for him, but still a strong looking body, and beautiful smile.

“Small world,” he says. I agree and smile. We make the smallest of small talk, I tell him I’m back in town for a bit, he lies and says Evelyn is doing well, I smile again. He is doing that thing that some guys do, where they can’t look at me directly in the eyes for too long. I’ve been told by everyone – every boyfriend, every older relative, every cashier, every random person on the bus – that I have “beautiful blue eyes.” Some guys can’t handle looking at them for too long. I heard how high my voice was getting. I switched the conversation over to his phone. Some classic problem. I have to deduce if it is hardware or software, which just means I have to erase his phone and see if the issue persists. I explain this and ask Steve if he has a backup. Like most older adults, he has no idea if he has a backup. I asked him if he has anything important on his phone. “Just pictures. I got thousands on here. I think they are all on my computer, but I don’t know, you know?” I ask Steve if he has his laptop with him. He does. I offer that he can either backup his whole phone now, or just his pictures, that way he won’t lose anything. He says he only really has pictures, that his contacts were definitely in iCloud (so the old man DOES know something), and that he will back up his photos now. I help him set it up. In doing so, our hands touch for a fraction of a second. I still hope he didn’t feel how sweaty they were.

I told him it might take a minute or two. He said he’d go browse the Bluetooth speakers. I turned the computer screen away from the rest of the room, so the other customers couldn’t see the photos flashing on the screen as they are saved, and Steve walked away. I pretended to look at my iPad for the next customer in the queue, but really was looking at this photos. He really did have a lot.

Then, it happened. A series of crotch pics. Even using that term seems wrong. Drotch pics are ugly, strange things that guys think girls want to see. These weren’t that. These were photographs of the best physical attraction I’ve ever been experienced in my life (100 words deleted)... I could feel myself getting soaked, just like I was back in that hallway, listening at the wall. The photos finished saving. I closed the app and, as Steve and I discussed, erased his phone. After I turned it on again, his technical problem persisted. I called him over. I must have been red-faced.

“It’s okay; I can see the look on your face; it busted, right?” I told him, or at least I think I told him, I was too overwhelmed to remember properly, that it was a screen issue, but we can make the repair in store, it will take a day. He was very understanding. “So I come back tomorrow and ask for you?” I explained I wasn’t working tomorrow, but anyone could help. “You’ve been very helpful already. It was nice bumping into you like this.” He smiled and was gone.

I took the phone to the repair room in the back. I don’t do the repairs, I just hand it off. In the stairwell, while clutching his phone, wishing foolishly that all the pictures were still there, so I could stare, so I could soak them in, so I could commit every detail to memory, Steve got a text. This happens sometimes. We are just supposed to keep it in airplane mode. I had forgotten to turn it on. Steve hadn’t restored his iCloud contacts, so the text was just from a phone number. The area code was local. The text was a picture of a pert pair of breasts and a glowing tan stomach. The message read: “see you tonite daddy?” I stared. The woman in the picture couldn’t have been much older than me. I shut off the phone and brought it to the repair room.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Steve’s perfect body and this mystery woman. This all happened this week, so I haven’t seen Steve since. At least not in person. In my mind, he is constantly stroking himself, smiling at me, and I become overwhelmed. I haven’t touched myself this often and this intensely for years. I want him inside me. I want to taste his sweat. I want to lose myself in his embrace. I want to be the mysterious woman in the picture. I want to see daddy tonite.

Advice time: what should I do? Should I try to reach out to him? Look him up online, or drive by the old house, to see if he still lives there? I think I know he is into younger women, given the mysterious picture, but is that enough? Or should I just let this be, and be happy I get to put a picture to my favorite memory of listening to Steve moaning alone in his bed at night so many years ago?

来源(含自然主义描写): https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/aov2yw/f_getting_soaking_wet_behind_the_genius_bar_or
 
最后编辑: 2019-02-11
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我最气的是我老公,背红宝书单词五页都不到,多年国企银行工作无任何英语环境的人,就刷完了两本薄薄的习题,准备好多考多次的心理建设,竟然一次就过,没有低于六分的,平均6.5……
时髦的说话,这叫做智商碾压。:ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO: 你一定要偷偷的乐,被你捡到宝啦。
 

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偶遇闺蜜父亲 - 重温少女梦幻

Reddit 真人故事 洁本: Getting Soaking Wet Behind the Genius Bar: Or How I Saw My Ex-Best Friend's Dad Again (self.SluttyConfessions)

submitted 1 day ago by thankyoucumagain420

Jonrichards82 15 hours ago
Best thing I’ve ever read on this crazy mother fxxxer Reddit

badgirl_throwaway 5 hours ago
Girl. Message him. Why not? You're not friends with his daughter anymore and it sounds like he'd be an amazing fxxx. But please come back and tell us about what happens?

[–]thankyoucumagain420 5 hours ago
I did message him! Yesterday, almost 24 hours and no word yet...


I’m not sure if this confession fits in here. I’m not even sure if this is a confession. But this happened to me this week, and I can’t get it out of my head, and I love lurking on this sub. I’ve always wanted to have a story worthy of this place, but, I have to admit, my sex life is rather vanilla. Pretty active and satisfying: but largely vanilla (save for an errant experiment with butt plugs and maybe a few desperate moments of public stuff).

I’m a twenty-four year old woman. Currently, and hopefully not forever, I work in my town’s Apple Store. It’s a decent gig. I work behind the Genius bar, but I’m no genius. I only work on the mobile devices. I don’t know much about tech stuff, but luckily the job is 90% customer service/retail and 10% technical. At least in my experience so far.

Earlier this week, the father of my ex-best friend walked in.
偶遇闺蜜父亲 - 重温少女梦幻

Reddit 真人故事 洁本:
Let’s call him Steve, and let’s call his daughter Evelyn. Evelyn and I were inseparable from about 6thgrade until towards the end of high school. We were your classic mean girls. Luckily, I reformed; Evelyn didn’t. Evelyn’s mother died way before I met her, so Steve was the one who picked us up if we were hanging out afterschool, made us snacks, etc. Evelyn, and by extension me, was a total brat to her dad. Following her lead, I would barely say hello to him and never laugh at his dad jokes. The complication was that Steve was the hottest dad I had ever seen. He had a rock-hard body, which he wasn’t afraid to show in the summer; a handsome jaw line; steely blue eyes; a sexy salt-and-pepper hair. Even as a teen, I felt completely attracted to him. He was the subject of about 90% of my masturbation fantasies.

I was always quick to suggest having a sleepover at Evelyn’s house, in the hopes that something would happen. I wasn’t sure what, but something. Of course, it was all a fantasy. Until one night, around one in the morning, after everyone was supposedly asleep, I was walking back to Evelyn’s room from the bathroom, and I heard moaning coming from Steve’s room. I froze, I put my ear to the wall (too afraid to touch the door itself), and I listened. Steve was moaning softly. Or he was snoring. Or it was all in my head. But, in my memories at least, he was moaning, and then I heard the thwacking of skin-on-skin. I imagined his powerful hand gripping his private part, his accessories slapping against his leg. I imagine him imagining me, his daughter’s best friend, who was the first girl in her grade with decent breasts, who swam in his pool on hot days, and only wore the smallest bikinis, two sizes too small, for him, always for him. I was getting myself soaked in the dark hallway, listening at the wall. I touched myself, holding one hand over my mouth, while the other rubbed faster and faster. He stopped moaning, and I froze again. I raced back to Evelyn’s room, and jumped into bed. She was always a heavy sleeper. I laid there, with soaking wet panties and fingers.

Junior year, Evelyn and I had our last Big Fight, and called it quits. I gravitated towards the theater kids, and learned humility; Evelyn started doing coke and, after we graduated, moved to Arizona. I thought her dad had left town too. I went away for college, and had a bunch of that vanilla sex I mentioned. During my senior year, I started dating this marginally older dude. He was BIG into the whole “call me daddy” thing. I never understood that (my dad is a fat, jolly red-nosed Irish guy, so I never got why evoking him was sexy), but I tend to be a sexual chameleon, slightly changing my habits to confirm to the guy I’m with (hence the butt plug stuff, that was boyfriend number two). This guy made not-so-subtle hints that he wanted to be called daddy, so I tried it once during sex. Suddenly, I remembered not my dad, but Evelyn’s. I moaned “daddy” and thought of his chiseled body, I screamed “xxxx me daddy” and thought of that secret night of hallway moaning. I came harder than I have before. The guy thought he was a stallion. I knew it wasn’t him; it was Steve.

So, when he walked into the Apple Store, of course my hands are sweating. He sees me. I quickly go through the queue of names of people with Genius bar sessions, and I see his name. I select it, which means he is mine. Steve is just as sexy as I remembered him. A little more salt in his salt-and-pepper hair, a slight bit of stumble, which totally works for him, but still a strong looking body, and beautiful smile.

“Small world,” he says. I agree and smile. We make the smallest of small talk, I tell him I’m back in town for a bit, he lies and says Evelyn is doing well, I smile again. He is doing that thing that some guys do, where they can’t look at me directly in the eyes for too long. I’ve been told by everyone – every boyfriend, every older relative, every cashier, every random person on the bus – that I have “beautiful blue eyes.” Some guys can’t handle looking at them for too long. I heard how high my voice was getting. I switched the conversation over to his phone. Some classic problem. I have to deduce if it is hardware or software, which just means I have to erase his phone and see if the issue persists. I explain this and ask Steve if he has a backup. Like most older adults, he has no idea if he has a backup. I asked him if he has anything important on his phone. “Just pictures. I got thousands on here. I think they are all on my computer, but I don’t know, you know?” I ask Steve if he has his laptop with him. He does. I offer that he can either backup his whole phone now, or just his pictures, that way he won’t lose anything. He says he only really has pictures, that his contacts were definitely in iCloud (so the old man DOES know something), and that he will back up his photos now. I help him set it up. In doing so, our hands touch for a fraction of a second. I still hope he didn’t feel how sweaty they were.

I told him it might take a minute or two. He said he’d go browse the Bluetooth speakers. I turned the computer screen away from the rest of the room, so the other customers couldn’t see the photos flashing on the screen as they are saved, and Steve walked away. I pretended to look at my iPad for the next customer in the queue, but really was looking at this photos. He really did have a lot.

Then, it happened. A series of crotch pics. Even using that term seems wrong. Drotch pics are ugly, strange things that guys think girls want to see. These weren’t that. These were photographs of the best physical attraction I’ve ever been experienced in my life (100 words deleted)... I could feel myself getting soaked, just like I was back in that hallway, listening at the wall. The photos finished saving. I closed the app and, as Steve and I discussed, erased his phone. After I turned it on again, his technical problem persisted. I called him over. I must have been red-faced.

“It’s okay; I can see the look on your face; it busted, right?” I told him, or at least I think I told him, I was too overwhelmed to remember properly, that it was a screen issue, but we can make the repair in store, it will take a day. He was very understanding. “So I come back tomorrow and ask for you?” I explained I wasn’t working tomorrow, but anyone could help. “You’ve been very helpful already. It was nice bumping into you like this.” He smiled and was gone.

I took the phone to the repair room in the back. I don’t do the repairs, I just hand it off. In the stairwell, while clutching his phone, wishing foolishly that all the pictures were still there, so I could stare, so I could soak them in, so I could commit every detail to memory, Steve got a text. This happens sometimes. We are just supposed to keep it in airplane mode. I had forgotten to turn it on. Steve hadn’t restored his iCloud contacts, so the text was just from a phone number. The area code was local. The text was a picture of a pert pair of breasts and a glowing tan stomach. The message read: “see you tonite daddy?” I stared. The woman in the picture couldn’t have been much older than me. I shut off the phone and brought it to the repair room.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Steve’s perfect body and this mystery woman. This all happened this week, so I haven’t seen Steve since. At least not in person. In my mind, he is constantly stroking himself, smiling at me, and I become overwhelmed. I haven’t touched myself this often and this intensely for years. I want him inside me. I want to taste his sweat. I want to lose myself in his embrace. I want to be the mysterious woman in the picture. I want to see daddy tonite.

Advice time: what should I do? Should I try to reach out to him? Look him up online, or drive by the old house, to see if he still lives there? I think I know he is into younger women, given the mysterious picture, but is that enough? Or should I just let this be, and be happy I get to put a picture to my favorite memory of listening to Steve moaning alone in his bed at night so many years ago?

来源(含自然主义文字): https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/aov2yw/f_getting_soaking_wet_behind_the_genius_bar_or
重要更新:与闺蜜父亲视频会面

Reddit 真人故事 洁本

MAJOR UPDATE! Ex-Best [F]riend's Dad and I Just Had Phone Sex and Set a Meet-up for This Week! (self.SluttyConfessions)

submitted 3 hours ago by thankyoucumagain420

Hello!

Okay, so a lot of people have been asking, and now I officially have an update!

In a previous post, I talked about how I had a crazy chance encounter with a picture of my ex-best friend's dad glorious body while at work. I was worked up days later (for those wondering, he picked up his phone the next day, when I didn't have a shift), and I wrote it all out and posted it. I got some very nice and helpful encouragement and flat-out ghost writings, which gave me the courage to message Steve.

I went with Facebook chat, because I found him easily, and I didn't want to say I got his number from work, just in case that creeped him out. I went a pretty forward message: I told him it was nice to see him, it brought up a bunch of old memories, and honestly I may have seen an interesting picture or two on his computer. Yes, I was like two bongs deep and typing shit I normally wouldn't have. Yes, I am one bong deep right now and doing the same thing.

He didn't response for like 32 hours (not that I was counting...). When he did, he was immediately apologetic for not answering sooner. He said he knew it must have been nerve-racking to send a message like that and not hear back anything, not even a polite no. I am watching these messages pop up one-by-one in messenger and just holding my breath. He didn't type up a big, long response. He was typing to me in that moment.

He said he wanted to make sure this was really me, and not some sort of prank or trap. He told me to call him (he gave me his number) if I was serious. My hands were sweaty. I was (still am) super high, thinking he wasn't going to respond to me tonight I smoked and was listening to sad, sad music, and now I am dialing Steve's number, and I hear his voice.

No preamble. I tell him that I saw a boatload of his attractive pics, and that it was the most delicious images I've ever seen in my life. I tell him that he's always been the sexiest older man I've known, I tell him I've always felt that way, that the worst part of not being friend's with Evelyn was not seeing him, not talking to him. I told him how shocked and turned on I was just to see him walk into the store, and how the pics drove me over the edge.

I didn't tell him about the mysterious woman on the phone. I didn't want him thinking of her. I wanted him to be thinking of only me.

I told him all this, and he went silent.

"I feel like I'm in a dream,"

Steve finally said after about a minute. I asked him if he still lived in the same place. He said he did. I told him I could be there in seventeen minutes. He told me to slow down, take it easy, that he had a really early tomorrow, and that, if we met, he wanted to give me the time I deserved. I asked him what he meant. He told me not to be a tease anymore. I said I was total free Tuesday, weird work schedule, no true weekends. He said he could move somethings around. Noon? Where? A place for lunch? I told him I'd eat before I arrived at his house, no preamble, we could talk in bed afterwards, if we wanted to.

He asked if I wanted to see what I was doing to him, and sent me a picture of him. Like I said, I'm not a brat anymore, so I did what any good girl would and sent me back a picture of mine ...

(Three paragraphs about the video conferencing omitted)

We listened to each other breathing. He told me he couldn't wait. I told him he'd have to. We hung up. That was like thirty minutes ago. I see Steve again in about 39 hours. Not that I'm counting. My body is still quaking. I needed to tell you all. My bed is puddle and my heart hasn't slowed down yet.

I feel like I'm in a dream...

来源(含自然主义文字): https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/apbl8g/major_update_exbest_friends_dad_and_i_just_had/
 
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Cuppa 这个跟本地人交流了一下, 她告诉我加拿大本地人不这样说,这是爱尔兰苏格兰等地的说法,她奶奶来自爱尔兰, 这样说, 她曾和奶奶一块儿生活, 她懂, 但她女儿就不懂了。
苏格兰更难懂。最近在看“Outlander”电视剧。里面几乎全是苏格兰语。即使是英文字幕,也是直接按照苏格兰语打出来的。我只记得几个在剧中经常听到的几个字,我把它们放在句子里,比较容易猜到意思。
“I ken what I am doing.” Ken in English?
“How is bairn?” Husband asked wife. Bairn in English?
“You’ll be fine, lass.” He told his daughter. Lass in English?
“Aye.” He said. 这个”Aye” 如果有看过英美海军的电影或电视剧,应该很容易知道是什么意思的。
上面两句如果没有我后面加的句子就很难猜到了。我是因为看电视剧,知道剧中人物的关系,才能猜到。
“Outlander” 在Netflix 里有,但最新的第四季还没有。
 
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苏格兰更难懂。最近在看“Outlander”电视剧。里面几乎全是苏格兰语。即使是英文字幕,也是直接按照苏格兰语打出来的。我只记得几个在剧中经常听到的几个字,我把它们放在句子里,比较容易猜到意思。
“I ken what I am doing.” Ken in English?
“How is bairn?” Husband asked wife. Bairn in English?
“You’ll be fine, lass.” He told his daughter. Lass in English?
“Aye.” He said. 这个”Aye” 如果有看过英美海军的电影或电视剧,应该很容易知道是什么意思的。
上面两句如果没有我后面加的句子就很难猜到了。我是因为看电视剧,知道剧中人物的关系,才能猜到。
“Outlander” 在Netflix 里有,但最新的第四季还没有。
还有"vee",就是small的意思。我喜欢那种口音,虽然听不懂,挺好玩的。
 

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USDT交易对(比特币等)
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