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Fun In The Tub

by Mike Hunt


Oh no! You've downloaded SPAM from the world of MIKE HUNT!!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! I've been fighting with my publisher (that's also me!) about my insistence that I begin including SPAM in my stories to help defray the ever increasing cost of my medical care. You should see my dick! Last week I thought I'd rubbed it raw and I rushed to the ER. I'm OK, it's just a rash. But now come the bills. Hell, I coulda bought a Lexus. I finally gave in and compromised with myself to include one piece of SPAM with this story only. It won't happen again. Unless, of course, I insist. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAM ************************************************************************ The Almost All True Adventures of MIKE HUNT are now available by e-mail! ************************************************************************ At last you can get the entire future MIKE HUNT series delivered direct to your box, uh, poor choice of words, simply by replying to the e-mail address below. Are you tired of silly story postings that go something like: "I first saw her at the vegetable counter. Then she grabbed my cock. Then I fucked her. Then she blew 20 guys in the back."? Would you prefer stories that describe the delicious feeling of a dick sliding gently into a woman's wet and waiting pussy, about cum shots that hit the bulls eye in the back of the throat, about hand-jobs among barely legal teens? If so, order 'The Almost All True Adventures of MIKE HUNT' today! DO NOT SEND your credit card number. DO NOT SEND a check. Simply take a $10 bill and slip it in the little slot on the front of your computer, then e-mail me at M1ke@hilarious.com and I will send my newly patented electronic smut merchant down the wires to pick it up. You will get the entire collection of future MIKE HUNT stories by return e-mail. Note the 2nd character in M1KE is a "one" (1) not an "eye" (I). Thanks. Include this note: "YES! I'm over 18! I want to get MIKE HUNT!" Uh, don't say it out loud at the mall. And don't be a dick. Order today. *Offer void in Iowa and other locations where assholes run the government. *Utah residents please add sales tax. (And HURRY! There's a story coming out about a girl who meets me in a grocery store and then blows 34 guys behind the meat counter! It's very realistic!). SPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am so sorry. I'll fight with that guy to stop this shit. He's a jerkoff anyway. No I'm not! Yes I am! Shut up! OK. By the way, if you're not legal age, cease reading immediately. You just know there had to be a disclaimer here. There always is. ## DISCLAIMER ## Go away. Everybody. Stop. Please. I'm begging. OK, then fuck you. You get what you deserve. Note to the courts: This educational treatise explores certain sexual activities for the purpose of understanding the motivations that cause some people to act in these ways. Perhaps it will lead to therapies or other remedies to modify these upsetting behaviors. It is not intended to be titillating, though unfortunately some people may find it so. Sure. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fun in the Tub - by MIKE HUNT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June and I had been married for 7 or 8 years, and frankly, the sexual spark wasn't the same. Of course we tried to do things to rekindle the original flame and often had a good time at it. But on a day in day out basis the thrill just wasn't like our first years together. We decided to take another honeymoon weekend to Denver; one of the airlines had a cheap fare and I could cash in some hotel coupons. I blew off work early on Friday; we flew into DIA at about 3 PM. We went into our room. It was gorgeous, just perfect for a honeymoon suite. There was a big bouncy bed in the middle of the chamber and a huge bathroom which included a Jacuzzi. Four nozzles would squirt the water in every direction. I knew June would like that. The huge tub was surrounded by white striated marble tiles, each at least two feet square. Nice. We went out and had a lovely dinner, jet-fresh lobster ($27.50 each!) and a Coors, not my usual brand but what the hell, we were in Colorado. Even the water tastes better out there! On top of that, I paid the guy at the piano to play some of June's favorite tunes while we ate. It helped distract me from the sports blaring on a nearby TV. All in all it was a sweet evening. We went back to the room and I called room service to order a six pack. It's just one of those things you do when you're in the mood. I flipped on the TV, but after a few minutes shut it off. That wasn't why we were here! There was a knock on the door and a bellman called out "Room Service." It was the fastest I'd ever had. I opened the door and he came in and set down the tray. The bottles had already been extracted from their cardboard housing and were sitting in a dish filled with crushed ice. There were two glasses. The bellman took my $3 tip as he left. I twisted the top off two of the bottles and poured out the amber fluid; each one exactly filled one glass. I got a little pissed when I realized there had already been another $3 "Service Charge" added to the bill, but what the hell. "OK, lover boy, now what?" she said. "I have an idea," I replied. How about we play 'slaves'," I answered. She cocked her head up to look at me. "What's that?" she asked. "We'll keep it simple. I'll do anything you want for an hour, and then you do anything I want for an hour." "Anything?" she questioned. "Anything." I answered. She thought for a moment. I could see the wheels turning. "Fine," she said. "I want you to eat me for a half-hour. I'll tell you the rest later." "Well, gosh, if I have to." I walked over to her and started fumbling with her skirt. It took only a moment to unbutton the side button and lower the zipper. The skirt fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it. I knelt in front of her and put my hands on the sides of her panties. I pulled them down, kissing her hip as the cloth revealed her skin. Down they flew, past her knees to her ankles. She stepped out of them. I could smell June's pussy. I could have identified it a mile away. She stumbled back and sat down on the bed. By chance she had backed up into one of the corners of the mattress, and as she lay down, her legs naturally spread apart, one on each side of the corner. I knew what I had to do and I knelt to the task. My head moved up between her thighs, and I drank in the aroma of her cunt. When she wanted it, her smell was overpowering. She wanted it. My mouth found her clitoris, and I began to nibble at it. I extended my tongue and licked it. The small fleshy tip popped up as her blood began to flow to her crotch. Her cunt lips became puffy against my chin, and I returned my attention to her clit. I licked her. I began to write the letters of the alphabet with my tongue against the tiny skin flap that gave her such pleasure. My tongue bounced every direction as I traced "ABCD,EFG." I thought of each letter as I performed it. "HIJK,LMNOP." I came up for air. "QRS and TUV. W and XYZ." Whew! "Now I've done my ABC's....think I'll do 'em all over again!" It doesn't rhyme. I know. I repeated the alphabet and added numerals and punctuation symbols. She really liked the question mark! I moved down and stuck my tongue into her opening. June sighed aloud. She always makes a lot of noise; I love that. I wiggled as deeply into her as I could. My face was getting wet with her juices, my tongue was getting tired. "Mind if I have a swig?" I asked. "No, fine. Just make it quick. And hand me mine." I did. We both gulped down a few swallows, and I returned to my kneeling position. A quick glance at the alarm clock told me less than 10 minutes had elapsed. I had a long way to go. I returned my mouth to her pussy, sucking softly on her fleshy cunt lips. I stroked her mons veris and combed her pubic hair with my fingers as I did so. I lapped at her slit, wiggling my tongue first up and down, then side to side. And I stuck it down deeply into her snatch as she lay on her back. After nearly a quarter hour I could tell she was holding off rather than letting herself explode. It usually doesn't take more than 10 or 15 minutes for her to cum, but I guessed she was enjoying the ride and wanted to extend it. I couldn't blame her for stalling. Twenty minutes went by. My jaw was aching, my neck was cricked, my tongue worn out. Now 25 minutes passed and she still lay there, "oooh-ing and aaah-ing." Finally I could tell she was finally about to cum. Whew! At last! Her pussy warmed up, I felt the flush of new blood rushing to her cunt, her pelvis began bouncing more violently, and then she exploded. "Owooo," she exclaimed. "Oooo." Then "Ooo." My face was a sloppy mess with her wetness, and as she bucked and heaved I tried to keep my lips fastened on her clit. I wasn't totally successful, but I guess I did a good enough job because her orgasm kept going longer than usual. At last she was done. She was inhaling deeply, her heavy breathing a reminder of her pleasure just moments before. And as she lay on her back I said "OK, boss. You have a half-hour left. Now what?" I couldn't imagine what she would want now. "I'll just put it in the bank, and ask for it later," she replied. "Hey wait," I said. "That's not part of the deal. I mean, that's not how it works." "Of course it does," she said. "You said I could do anything I want with my hour. Well, I want to break it into two half-hours. And that's that." I mean, who wanted to start a fight over this? Anyway, I was anxious to get my own session started, so what the hell. I poured another couple of beers, and we sat on the edge of the bed while she recovered. We sipped at the golden bubbles for several minutes, then I said "OK, my turn." "Fine," she replied. "What do you want?" June would go for about anything up to and including anal. Even though that's one thing I don't think she truly enjoys, she happily does it because she knows that it feels different on my penis and in my brain. I suppose that's what she expected to hear. Instead I said, "I just want you to come in the bathroom and sit on the tub while I wash you. Maybe we'll take a shower together or something." "Really?" she said. "You don't have to play slave to do this. Heck, I'll do this any time." She stood up and began to remove her remaining clothes. "Great." I said. "Let's go." We carried our drinks into the bathroom, and she went to sit on the toilet. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I didn't give you permission to do that." "I have to pee," she said. "Tough," I said. "I'm the master. You have to hold it." "You're kidding," she said. "I really have to pee." "I did exactly what you asked. Now you have to do exactly what I say. You're the slave. Come sit on the edge of the tub." I was firm. She looked at me and said "Well this isn't fair. I have to pee. I've had three, maybe three and-a-half beers. I have to pee." She was repeating herself. I made her come to the edge of the tub. I wetted a wash cloth and rubbed it over her back. I washed the sides of her torso, letting the cloth brush against the sides of her tits as I did so. I washed her neck, and the part of her butt that was hanging over the edge. Then I climbed into the tub and knelt between her legs. I forced them a little further apart. I turned on the tap and re-wetted the cloth. As the water began to flow out of the main nozzle she said "Turn that off. It makes me have to pee even more." I took the wet cloth and gently stroked her neck. I could see she was caught between the pleasure of my ministrations and the pain of her bladder. She was doing great holding it in. I reached for my beer and took a gulp. "Want some?" I said. She shook her head. I rubbed the cloth under her chin, and gently wiped her face. Then I lowered it and softly caressed her breasts as I wiped off the sweat from her earlier session in the bedroom. I stroked it against her midsection, and she exclaimed "Watch it. You're pushing on my bladder." She paused. Then she said "Come on Mike, let me up. I really have to take a piss, and I mean now." I knew she was right, but I refused. I wiped down her legs, and at one point knelt to kiss her vagina. I told her to scootch forward, and she did. Now her cunt was hanging over the edge of the tub. When I had finished with her legs and feet, I moved back up between them. Big surprise, I had an erection. I moved to put my arms around her "I want a hug," I said. She let me move in toward her. I held her there for several minutes, feeling the warmth of our skin against each other. My dick bounced around her cunt lips, but I didn't try to stick it in. It was delightful. She said to me, "Mike. Really. I have to break it off. I'm full. My bladder is full. My liver is full. I think I have piss up to my eyeballs." "I know," I said. "Isn't it great?" "You bastard," she said. She pulled back her head and looked me in the eye. "This is so totally unfair. I would never do this to you." I reached for my beer and took a swig. I pointed my cock at her cunt and leaned the head at an angle against the entrance portal. Only the first few fractions of an inch disappeared. I didn't move to push it further. I pulled her upper torso back to me, and whispered in her ear "Only because you didn't think of it, love." She sat there, whimpering because of the pain in her bladder. I sat there, my dick at attention pointed at and above the gate of pleasure. She struggled to get up. I held her tightly. She said "Mike, I have to get up. I'm going to let go. I can't stand it any more. Get up." I licked her ear lobe, pulled myself tighter to her and whispered "Not a chance. You're my slave, and you're going to stay right here." I was ruthless. "I think maybe I'll take a piss, though. I could piss a river, I'll bet." "Ohh," she said. She was in pain. "Well honey," I said. I nibbled her ear lobe and whispered tenderly again. "There's one other way. Just let go. Go ahead, let go. You want to. You need to. Go ahead, let go. I'm waiting." I felt her start to squirt as my words gave her permission to release but her taboos held her in check. But with the first few drops came a wave of relief, and she let go in a torrent. Her piss flooded me, flooded the bathtub, flooded over my dick. I stroked my penis over the opening. The effect was like putting a thumb over a garden hose. The spray went everywhere as the pressure increased. I felt the warm liquid envelop me, and I could tell she had several hours of pent-up demand all being released within just a few seconds. I pulled her face around and kissed her full on the mouth, even as her cunt continued to eject a steady stream of fluid over my midsection. I demanded her tongue, and I could see her wracked between moments of pain, moments of pleasure, moments of embarrassment and release. Our tongues danced against each other as she continued to let go a torrent. Finally I felt the stream subside, and I held her to me. "Oh Mike, I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't help it." "Don't be sorry," I cooed softly into her ear. "It was fabulous. The only thing to be sorry about is that it didn't last longer." "Really?" she said, her head bouncing back, her eyes wide with wonder. Now I felt her diaphragmatic muscles contract, and she began squeezing out the last few drops in short, individual spurts. She had about four or five of them and the fluid again washed over my erect penis. She sat up, thought for a minute, and then said "That was GREAT. What a rush. What a relief." There was silence. Then, "Oh, but look at you. Yuk." Her hand reached for the shower handle, and she turned it on with a twist. She pulled at the flexible spiral pipe and took the plastic instrument in her hand. Water rushed out of the nozzle, cold at first, but it quickly turned warm. She rinsed me off as I stood there. I was totally erect, the sexual feelings from the piss encounter making me feel as hard as a school boy in heat. After a moment she finished rinsing me and briefly turned the stream on herself. "OK my turn again," she chirped. "OK," I said thoughtlessly. I stepped out of the tub and over to the toilet. "And what do you think you're doing?" she said. "Oh get serious," I said. "I have to piss. I had more to drink than you did, and it's been longer, too." "Oh I am serious. Totally serious." I could see that she was. "Go stand in the tub." She had me. This sucked. I stepped into the tub as I was told to. I tried to start pissing, but my dick was so hard it wouldn't let any fluid pass. June fumbled quickly through my overnight kit and came up with a condom. "Now, we're just going to make sure you don't cheat," she said. She ripped open the package and deftly rolled the condom down on my hard shaft. The effect of her fingers on me made me harder still. "Sit down," she commanded. I did. I was sitting at the bottom of the empty tub; she was sitting on the toilet seat facing me. "Now what?" I asked. "Now we wait," she said. "You tortured me, you fuck, and I'm going to show you how much I appreciate it!" This was going to be horrible, but I suppose I deserved it. We sat. We must have stayed that way for five or ten minutes when she said, "Gee, I think I have to pee again." She raised up the toilet lid with a thump and sat on the seat ring. In just a few seconds I could hear the tinkle of liquid reverberate as it fell to the water below. She didn't have much volume but it was plenty loud. The acoustic echo of the toilet made the sound gain in strength. "That is really a shitty thing to do," I said. By this time I had lost a little of my hardness, although I was still mostly erect. "Careful buster, or you'll know what a shitty thing really is." My mouth must have gaped open, realizing the impact of her words but she burst out laughing. Her peeing continued, but at a trickle. "Ahhh. That feels so good. Don't you think it feels good to pee?" she asked. I sat silent, fuming. As I heard her aim her last few squirts into the water, I could stand it no more. I had to let go. I said "I can't take it. I'm sorry. I have to." She jumped up and came over to the tub. She encircled my penis and the rubber raincoat at the base with her finger and thumb, squeezing just slightly. I started to let go. As with her, once I started I couldn't have stopped it with a cork. I pissed and pissed and pissed. The condom filled quickly, then started to expand. The head of it became the size of a baseball, then a softball. She held me tightly. She used her other hand to reach into my lap to support the growing sphere. When the condom had stretched to the size of a good grapefruit, she slackened the tension on her fingers, and the fluid began flooding out of the back, down along the sides of my dick. The pleasure of my release was coupled with the tingling of the warm fluid now flooding my loins, and as the piss fought its way out of the condom my full erection returned. My dick was beet red, and she grabbed at the receptacle end of the latex sheath. The remaining fluid made the prophylactic slide off easily, and she ripped it off my cock and held it in her hand. "OK, your turn," she said. I jumped to my feet. "Your face," I commanded. With dick in hand, I stroked myself hard and fast. It wasn't 30 seconds before I was ready to cum, and I did, shooting my spunk directly onto her. I came again and again, and she giggled as she took all of my goop. When I was done she took my urine soaked and cum covered cock in her mouth and sucked on it and gave me a little kiss. June usually swallows but this time she leaned over and spit it out in the tub. Then she rinsed her mouth out with some of my beer and spit that out as well. Holding my glass in her hand she turned to me and said "Would you like to rent another Coors for a little while, Mike?" We both cracked up. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Almost All True Stories of MIKE HUNT are discharged on irregular basis. (The Kaopectate may help even it out it.) They probably will be until I get a real job. Or until the patent comes through on that smut merchant you heard about in the SPAM. Or until the Kinsey Institute sends me a check. One of those things, you know. Bound to happen soon. To get these erudite tomes by e-mail, drop an electron to me. Fans or flames at M1ke@hilarious.com . Remember that the 2nd character in M1KE is a "one" (1) not an "eye" (I). Thanks. For a complete selection of my stories visit . Note that the 2nd character in HUNT is a "U" (ewe) and if you think this story was too much, just wait till the one on bestiality comes out. It'll be a while. I have to do some research first. Anybody got a sheep they don't want for a few weeks? Say, if this story wasn't to your taste, tough shit, you should pardon the expression. You downloaded it. And don't bitch to me about 'story codes.' I put "pissed", "water", "sports", "amber fluid", "you're in", and a six pack of beer right at the beginning of the piece. There's even a last minute warning with "golden" and "shower." Not to mention a rough disclaimer and a note to the courts. Hell, the background color of the page is even yellow! If you didn't figure it out, well, like I said. Tough shit. Audio technicians may wish to note the passage with "volume", "loud", "gain", "acoustic", "echo", and "sound". It's not dirty or funny or anything; I'm just trying to expand my audience. Actually there are 10 audio words in all. Can you find them all? No? Give the story to the kids to keep them quiet in the backseat during a long drive. They'll find them, for sure. Just kidding. Hey! I'm only trying to make this shit interactive. It's pretty hard with just flat text! This story is Copyright 1997 M1KE HUNT. You can distribute it for free, but not sell it. If you try it I'll take legal action. I really mean it. Sure. Like I'm going to stand up in some courtroom somewhere and say "Yes, your honor, I wrote this crap and I'm really proud of it." And like the judge would actually enforce a judgment for a schmuck like me. And like some lawyer would even take the case, anyway. All lawyers are fucks, everybody knows that. Except Perry Mason, he was kind of cool. Oh, and the guy who's defending me in the Shulman divorce, I guess he's OK. Just because I screwed Shelly Shulman a couple of times and her husband found out. Shit.


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18 Gay Erotic Stories from Mike Hunt

Drive In

This is maybe the third or fourth story I ever wrote. I never showed it to you before because I figured it was just a simple fuck and suck story, and who wants to read one of those, anyway? OK, maybe a bunch of horny 17 year olds, but they're not allowed. Tell them to go away. However I've had enough requests ("Hey, this one goes out to Lorraine and Dave in the Valley, and to all

Feet Are Neat

You're not allowed to read sexually explicit material like this until your 18th birthday. Men's sexual performance declines after age 18. I'm sure there's a connection. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feet Are Neat - by MIKE HUNT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was my first

Fun In The Tub

Oh no! You've downloaded SPAM from the world of MIKE HUNT!!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! I've been fighting with my publisher (that's also me!) about my insistence that I begin including SPAM in my stories to help defray the ever increasing cost of my medical care. You should see my dick! Last week I thought I'd rubbed it raw and I rushed to the ER. I'm OK, it's just a rash. But now come the

High Rise

I swear there are two of me. The shrinks will tell you that "multiple personalities" are rare, but they're wrong. I think everybody has them. Like I'll be driving down the highway, and suddenly I'm five miles further than I thought. Who was doing the driving for those five miles? It must have been the other me, because it wasn't me. Or some mornings I'll be in the shower, and

I Am M1ke's dick

Dear Readers: This is the all true story of a short period in my life where I was involved in the television industry, when someone hired me to produce a program about sex. Go figure. I've had to play detective and even filch some stuff from other people's computers to find all the correspondence, notes, e-mails, etc. that tell the story, and while I didn't find everything, I've

June's First

Bad news, dirty story fans. The Smut Writers Guild (SWG) is holding a job action, and I can't write for you this week. If I did they could pull my card, and then where would I be? Seems they're protesting the exploitation of immigrant women, or something. Shit, I've never exploited immigrant women. I've never even fucked one that I know of. Well, maybe that Latina broad in

Reluctant Bride

I'm afraid the Almost True Series of M1KE HUNT adventures may be coming to a close, dear friends. You see, I'm slowly going broke writing these stories. My most recent attempt to leverage these little ditties into some cold hard cash has been a bust, and I can't figure out why! I thought the M1KE HUNT FAN CLUB would be a huge success. Maybe the $250 annual fee was a problem. We

She's A Tease

I was returning Karen & John's vacuum cleaner. Mine had blown up a couple of weeks earlier, and I hadn't spent the money to fix it or buy a new one yet. I didn't know either Karen or John particularly well; they had only moved into our duplex about 3 or 4 months before, and what with work schedules and all, I only ran into them at the mailbox or front door a few times for a couple

Shelly's Sex Life

You need to be 18 to read this. Well actually you don't NEED to be. You've been reading since you were 8. And you've probably been jerking off since you were 12. Come to think of it, I don't understand this rule at all. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shelly's Sex Life - by MIKE HUNT

Shelly's Trial

Hey! It's Mailbag Day at the MIKE HUNT offices! Here's an interesting e-mail from Pornmerchants.com. They want to know if I want to join their service which would make readers use 'e-nickels' to download my stories. M1KE: No. Bad smut should be free. I don't even like paying the part of the electric bill that goes toward keeping the modem warm while I'm downloading. - - -

Some Things Just Happen

You should be 18 to read this. It is a MIKE HUNT story and there is sex here. But I mostly write these ditties with you readers squarely in mind. And there's usually some decent rock-and-roll fucking or other weird shit going on. Not this time. I wrote this one for me. And for her. If you're looking for that heavy breathing funny bunny mambo action try someone else's. Or wait

The Darkroom - A Sequel

It had only been a couple days since my wild photo session with Bob and his beautiful wife Krystal. It had started out as a glamour photo session (even though I've mostly only done nature stuff as a hobby) and ended up with a three-way. Krystal, shy as I've always known her, really let loose when she had her husband in front of her and me behind, servicing her at both ends, so to

The Lingerie Salesman

I hereby disclaim any responsibility for my wife's debts, the actions of my congressman, or anything that happens to you after reading this story if you're not at least 18. My lawyer told me try to limit my liability. Seems one guy was reading a dirty story when his monitor exploded and killed him. His wife is suing the manufacturer, of course. Personally I think he probably came on

The O'Stikkit Inn

My wife likes men. I've always known that about her. When we first started going out, she was still seeing several other guys, but they just sort of fell away and we ended up together. We dated for many months, then finally got married. We've been hitched for 6 years, and to the best of my knowledge she's been faithful to me, and me to her. Well, I did have a couple of visits to a

The Photographer

I've been fooling around with cameras since high school, when I saved up and bought my first decent one. You know, a 35mm job with two interchangeable lenses. I mean, it was always just a hobby, I never thought I had enough talent to make my living at it, which is why I became an accountant. Yes, just a boring accountant for a large CPA firm. Still, the 9-to-5 hours and decent pay

The Topless Bar

I don't usually respond publicly to one flame. But you know me, I'll make an exception to any rule. Seems one reader took offense that I don't advocate using condoms in my stories, and that I don't warn readers about the dangers of sex at each and every opportunity. He/she further accused me of being a misogynistic asshole, a charge to which I plead guilty, though only in a most

The United Way

I've decided technology is fucked up. Like computers, for instance. I don't like them. Did I ever tell you about the time I mixed up my folders and started sending my stories to people who had just written to say "Wow" and didn't really want the stories showing up on their machines at work? Funny thing is the people who *wanted* the stories and didn't get them were even more

The Wet T-Shirt Contest

I've set up a little web page with all of my stories. I wanted to have the address be M1KE HUNT, but that name made the server get wet and it became unstable. You understand. So I've had to open up yet a THIRD address. It's MrM1KE@aol.com. I asked one of the tech support people at AOL why it wouldn't work at the M1KE HUNT name, and while she was eating lunch she told me "Gruumpg

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