Here's two of the three I sent in.

Suzanne groaned as Julio pressed her against the wall, intimately gyrating in expectation, realizing too late into her foray of the wild world of janitor dalliance that it was not a notable Latin endowment that was pleasuring her but his sizeable collection of janitor’s keys stuffed into his pant pocket.

Maybelle gasped, like the deep gasp that involuntarily escapes after sitting on a leather car seat that has baked in the Texas heat on a long July afternoon, at the unexpected surprise at seeing her lover in her husband’s arms, her surprise a lot like the pleasure/pain of remaining seated once the outer layer of skin has been seared.

The last one is still on the fried laptop. Maybe I can retrieve it later.

I've got hubby reading the *final* version of RANSOM.

Since I stayed home sick today (glad to have a toilet nearby), I might be able to send you something soon.

That's only if I can keep my dry toast and flat 7-UP down.