We destroyed it. When I was seventeen and playing in bands for money, I scraped together enough to get Dottie a ring for Mothers Day. It had her birth...tone, my birthstone, and Dads’ birthstone in it. She treated it with the same reverence as her wedding ring. …………………………………… When I got back to town I was pretty ill tempered for awhile. In fact, I was a first class asshole. I went back to my old ways. Screwing every woman I could get my hands on, except the married ones. Probably did a few of. The jacket covering a crisp white blouse, her white lace bra just peeking from the V neck, showing a cleavage that suggests firm medium sized breasts. Her hair, as always, tied up, giving her a slightly stern look. Her makeup is perfect, not too much foundation, just enough, her eyes highlighted, and her lips coated in a light red colour. Today, she is sitting directly opposite me, as she crosses her legs, very femininely, I see a glimpse of stocking tops, and a clip from a garter belt. She. More

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