‘I’ll tell you what I like about you.’ ‘I’ll take that.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘So we weren’t supposed to get two months off, we were...supposed to keep touring, but then Chester had to go to rehab… for alcoholism and drug addiction.’ ‘What?’ ‘To be honest, I don’t blame him. We worked so hard and alcohol was the only way out. It’s just funny how after the success, he couldn’t kick it. But our managers demanded that he get clean before we started the tour. So while Chester is in rehab, we get. I don’t like to exercise now as I have been doing it all my life. I was just tired of exercise. I know I need to lose some weight but then why? All my family are stocky build so I just accepted it as the norm.You are born, you live an experience(s), and then you die. Why worry about the little things in life like weight.It was at this point I ran directly into her. Her head was down and like me she was asking questions about life. The only difference was she was 19 and I was 49. Two generations. He'd carried her pack all the way and pushed her up when the trail was steep. At the flats, they dozed in the shade, her head on his shoulder, his arm lazily crossing her Smiley Face T-shirt. She wondered if how he adjusted his wrap was on purpose. When he thought she was napping, his wrist had slipped back and forth. At her age, they're just pointy, and he's already 16. Probably he wouldn't even care. She'd held very still.She's breathless with certainty about the mammal's proximity. As she. The taste of his dick made my mouth water and his manly scent filled my senses. “Do you want to make me cum?” he whispered quietly. I surprised myself and answered quickly, “yes.” “Tell me you want my cum” he asked again. (I would find out later that he enjoyed when I asked for his cum, even wanting me to beg for it, but that’s another story for another time)I looked up and him and answered, “I want to make you cum.” He pulled me up and kissed me passionately on the mouth, running his finger.