He made his way around the shelving, keeping a wary eye on the two. They had stepped up to the sales counter and started a disturbance. Clint decided ...t was time to interfere.He stopped a young boy from entering the store.“Hey, Tommy, over here,” he whispered with his finger to his lips, making the universal shushing signal. “Go run for the Sheriff. There will be trouble here soon. Be quick and there’ll be two bits for you when you get back.”The lad took off at a gallop. The men at the counter. I abandoned my painting, having captured the essence of the scene and moved to my black pastel pad. I used a black crayon to capture the positions and then filled in the bright spots with intense colored pastels. All three of the faces were closer together than I’d captured in the painting. The glow I’d first seen around Annette’s heart intensified, as did a new glow that seemed to illuminate Mavis’s hand as it moved toward Annette’s pussy. Morgan’s right hand left Annette’s breast and moved to. Eyes closed, he loves the feel of her arch cupped against his jaw line, the slight callus on the ball of her foot, under the big toe, scr****g lightly against his cheekbone. Almost like a physical touch he can feel her eyes on him, soaking it in, and that is good too. He knows that it turns her on, how much pleasure he gets from her feet, how much he loves touching and holding them, using them.He turns her foot towards him and sweeps his tongue around the edge of her heel, up the outside edge,. “Is this how it’s going to be?” she said. “Work or no work I hardly get to see you. Am I that much of an annoyance to you?”“Of course not, it’s just that sometimes I get frustrated with what I’m doing, and I don’t have time to—”“Talk to me? Do your own laundry? Help with the dishes? I’m a little more than a maid in your life.”“I know you are. You’re my wife, I know that, but I’m also a poet.”“I’m a poet too, and I still manage to get all the work done around here, and I still get time to write..