Her dead on imitation of Elly May from The Beverly Hillbillies was stellar: tight flannel shirt knotted at waist, tighter blue jeans and big blonde ha...stack tied into a ponytail that wrapped around her neck most fetchingly. But she claimed never to have seen the show...even once. She said when her mother died she inherited a trunk full of old TV Guides and found Elly May's look there. Who were we to judge her? She obviously had none of Elly May's cloying mannerisms so maybe it was true. We all. ’ The resemblance between father and son was unmistakable. Both were well over six feet tall, athletically thin and possessed the same square jaw lines and straight, patrician noses. Jason’s dark blond hair was slicked back and his dark blue eyes darted from one young woman to another, failing to notice that every female he made unintentional eye contact with threatened to faint from anticipation. As the one to inherit the lofty title of duke when his father passes away, the Marquess also. I decided to stop for a drink at a bar I had spotted on the way to my last patient's home. Walking in and ordering myself a Tom Collins I made myself comfortable at the bar. After an hour or so, a half way decent country and western band started up and I accepted a dance request from a handsome guy at the bar.This bar was your basic Bar-Bar. Nothing more that a place to drink booze, no frills, a blue-collar bar in a somewhat rough neighborhood. Most of the men and the few women there were. I began to kiss him back and out kisses started to get more passionate. Our tongues lashed around each other, sucking and licking. It was unlike no other kiss I had ever experienced.He broke off and braced himself above me, looking down at me. I looked up at him with my huge eyes and smiled. He grinned back at me. There was no need for words. I felt his weight shift onto me and he started to kiss his way down my neck and onto my collarbone. His hands rested on top of my breasts. My nipples were.
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