Then who would I talk to at the mailboxes?” I give him my best pouty face and stick my lower lip out a bit. “Oh mademoiselle, I know it would be m... last day on earth, but what a day it would be.”I leaned up against him and gave him a peck on the cheek. He was still smiling when I climbed into the ride share and headed to the hotel for my date.Popping in my ear buds, I zoned out on the drive over. My classic rock playlist started into the strains of live acoustic version of Resist. My thoughts. I don't even know how long I stood there, but I know that the party was in full swing by the time I opened my door. It was at the opposite end of the hall, the party spilling out, and I could already feel the bass pulsing. I walked slowly down the hall, each step taking an eternity. Then I felt someone's arm loop through mine. "You came!" I looked over to see her big, glowing smile. She was wearing a knee length, flowy blood-red dress. She had curled her hair and it shined against her dress.. She took off her blouse but decided to keep her shorts on, at least on for now; even though she was alone she was still a bit embarrassed by her widening hips. She was wearing a two piece bikini, not the newer sexy French ones but something a little more appropriate for a 35 year old woman.She had eaten half of one sandwich and downed three glasses of the cold Chardonnay and had the beginnings of a nice buzz. She lay back in the warm sun and closed her eyes and fell asleep. She wasn't sure how. The rhythm, the music. Spiritual music. A sound like that can heal a broken heart. And Ragtime. I love that too. Still piano players. All the styles are linked. You can hear Scott Joplin in every note that Booker plays. New life flows from old. The trace of the melody makes you smile, caught in a tearful night long ago. I was twenty when I left college and started to play piano in a bar each night. Not a great move prosperity wise, but a release for the soul. I met Emily at the bar. Close.
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Andrew turned over and lay on the beach towel spread across the back seat. He took a hold of his own erection and stroked it in search of his release.
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