#98738 - Gretchen looked over at her, and Bridgie blushed, uncertainly smiling back at her sister, though her fingers softly remaining inside Ellie and getting results; Gretchen kissed Bridget on the lips – nicely lingering, entwining tongues, both discovering this would do until the boys their age grew up – now grinning easily again at each other, and then at Eleanor: goodwill & consent all around, and Bridget as sweetly smooched Eleanor in the same manner, their father still absorbed with reaming-running-roughshod up Ellie’s ass, and Gretchen put her fingers between Bridget’s legs. Breadth. He’d listen to the jukebox at the bar, or, at home, to the radio randomly for melodies he wished he had written: jotting down words, phrases, changing whole hooks, verses, and themes to suit his tastes and mood, then incorporate them into guitar or piano – and still more changes – until he’d arranged another’s work into something completely different and that he could call his own, as far as copyright la
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