Those whiskers really make him look sort of debonair." Yeah, well he needs a shave," I said, peeved that the Love of my life was paying a bit too much...attention to him."Aw... ," she laughed. "My hubby's jealous... ?" You know... , with all those hippies roaming around—we could end up with a whole backyard full of them," I warned."Honey, you're just being hostile!" she accused, with a disarming little smile.Coming back up from having done her good deed for the day, she happily filled me. Some of the warm liquid went down her windpipe, causing her to cough and sputter. That it might be a bad omen flashed across her mind. She shook her head andlaughed. That's silly, she thought. But still it bothered her.What had Lucia said about Boyd last night? She couldn't recall the older woman's words. The words were not so important anyway. It was the way Lucia'd said it. Faith had felt that Lucia was in reality telling her much more than her few words had conveyed. "Quit it, Faith!" she. I took Eve over to the Old Homestead on Ninth Avenue in the heart of the meat-packing district and we listened to the Irish music coming from the bar section that was separated from the family style dining area for people with food and matters to discuss in a sawdust filled atmosphere that stretched back into the previous century, actually now two centuries. I considered the fact that my grandfather had been born in 1868 in Boston and that I had fought in the Civil War several years before he. She felt his body blanket hers in warmth, his breath hot and delicious on her throat as he bathed her in adoring kisses. Sparks danced as her breasts were nuzzled against his chest, his hands exploring the contours of her face. He felt her heat as her thighs parted, wrapping him in a cocoon of passioned need, her back arching, dark hues pleading. Her heart hammered in her chest as his teeth nibbled and tugged at her earlobe, hands moving slowly over her breasts, pinching lightly at her nipples..