Village Couple Outdoor Mms

He closed his eyes with an ache, before brushing the feeling aside with a shrug of irritation, returning to weeding the flowerbeds. By the lake, she pulled her sweater off, catching her T-shirt in her fingers as it rode up with the sweater. His face fixated in her mind, and she began to sketch an outline of his features, roughly hewn and tender. She recalled his face from memory, from touch, from scent and taste and everything between, his eyes slightly smiling, watchful. She drew his eyes first, in such a way that they seemed to gaze back at her as she worked, craggy eyebrows that could lift sardonically, for emphasis.She smoothed her fingers down the image of his nose, slowly smudging the lead to form a shadow, as if seen by the dim light of the reading lamp on her side of the bed. As she drew with the artist's pencil, the images somehow reversed, transposed, and he began to think in degrees of colour, remembering past times, the smell of her, the texture of her skin. As she began. I extended my hand ‘I’m Jane.’ And that was the beginning. It ended with me standing in an airport, holding two tickets to Las Vegas, screaming ‘Where the hell are you?’ to his voicemail. I missed the flight, and returned home to a ‘Dear Jane’ e-mail. I was furious. And devastated. But it all ends badly…that’s why it ends. The band took the stage, and Jax opened with a song new to me, ‘Red Headed Devil.’ It was all brokenhearted blues. I smiled. It was nice to know I had touched him deep enough too inspire a song. The set went much as all the other performances I had seen. Jax was magnetic and electric: building the crowd up, and then setting them back down gently. I was glad he hadn’t given up the spectacle of the stage. Music was his master, and he would be lost with out it. As the set ended, I ordered a drink for us both. I had a few questions I needed answered, and I was going to have to substitute vodka for sodium pentothal. I approached Jax with his drink. The blonde had.
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