"He gave her a wry smile. "You'll have eighteen years to get used to it." Ogh. Brandon, how did we get so old. I'm twenty. I'm twenty!, and yet I feel...positively middle-aged! I swear I've got gray hairs coming in!"He kissed the crown of her head. "Even if you did, I would still love you."She tilted her head to look at him. "Even when my hair's gone all white? And my face is wrinkled like a crumpled shirt? And my boobs sag, like, down to my knees?" They're kind of sagging now," he said. She'd. The rest of the day was ripe with talk and gossip. First off much of the people were upset and angry at how the artist had treated them. They had yelled his name, slapped his shoulders and smiled at him, but rather than acknowledge them he had simply shrugged off their embrace and stared at them as if they weren’t there while he walked away, leaving them standing there on the road like lonesome beggars. Even Aliwu had added his own share into the brewing pot. He spoke with a grumpy look on his. The duality tortured her, sometimes. A shy slut, a self-concious whore. Maybe that was what made the rush and exhileration so strong to begin with? He slid off his seat, sitting on his knees in front of her now, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands slid along the sides of her thighs, onto her hips, his lips brushed against her knee. Her heart was racing, her breathing rapid. She moved one hand, stroking his hair, her skin burning where his fingers and lips touched her. "Did you think about. .and my Mom, Staci. Ifigured I could learn some stuff by watching them. And it was easy to spyon them. I would stand outside the bedroom window of my Mom at night whenI knew she was going out someplace and was going to dress nice. Ohh, thesheer thrill of watching her get dressed, especially when she would puton her garterbelt and nylons. Watching her slowly pull those nylons upher long sexy legs. Smoothing them out from the ankle to the top,attaching the garters and smoothing them some more. I.