He was trying to adjust his guitar in his lap so it wasn't pressing on his throbbing cock and she giggled a little as she watched. Once he was settled...they began playing for each other. Her style was similar to his but she was right when she said she was a little rusty.After playing for about an hour her fingers were moving over the strings more confidently and she felt very at ease and relaxed with this man who she really didn't know. They finished a song and he put down his guitar. Excusing. (But were I you, I might button up your top to the neck. I am after all, only inhuman...)So I'm about to fly up and greet her when I see the boy. Ah! (It was always my pleasure to watch her work. As complicated and beautiful as a spider in a web. And as heartless.)Things you don't know about my kind, part three: It's always about that we can fly with you! You never ask about immortality or the feeding or the history. It's always, 'What's it like to fly?' You are funny. If you really want to. More

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