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The Old Town
#1
Nolie is hatless. His hat, stolen by a girl in a violet skirt. He knew this would happen, tried to hold on to it as he kissed her goodbye, but this girl is not to be taken lightly. She pulled the old "tickle routine" and fool that he is, Nolie fell head over heels for it…again!

When will he learn?

He thinks of her fondly, her cute Italian/French accent, the way she called him, "Chéri". He walks through the dirty old town, hand brushing along the red brick factory wall, remembering how it felt to kiss her there, to taste her, to hold her. When will he hold her again?

An old man sits quietly by the waterless fountain, his eyes closed, a smile lingering on his dirty face. In his hand is a flower, a lavender orchid. Her flower.

Nolie wonders what he is dreaming about.

https://youtu.be/YhkD-b61pE4

(Hours earlier…)

Nana laughs as Nolie disappears and hopes he will never learn. She loves their routine, pretending not to know that he is also pretending. His funny little outbursts of mock outrage, the silly games they play.

Her hand brushes the wall, fingers tracing the shape of the bricks on the crumbling mortar, caressing the exact spot where he held her, where they kissed. Traces of their passion still linger in the air. When will he hold her again? She composes herself and walks toward the old waterless fountain.

The old man is still there, he is watching her as he strums an old guitar, his fingers flowing dextrously over the strings. His deep blue eyes beckon her closer and as she nears, his frail voice begins to sing.

https://youtu.be/9T7OaDDR7i8

Nana is spellbound as she experiences his life through the song. His love and his loss, his confusion as everything he holds dear is torn away.

Nana blinks as the old man gently wipes a warm tear from her cheek. She is back in the present, the song is over. She reaches up to gently caress the old man's beard and place a small kiss on his wrinkled cheek. The bells are ringing and she must go. Before she leaves she takes the flower from her hair and gives it to the old man. It is a lavender orchid.

(Hours earlier…)

As they enter the town, Nolie spies a single lavender orchid growing in a patch of grass. He picks it and gives it Nana with a little flourish. She giggles as she takes the flower. Her hand  takes his, their finders entwine. They are determined to savour the short time they have together.

The town is deserted but for an old man with a long grey beard and a guitar on his back. He watches with interest as Nolie and Nana stroll together along the old brick wall, a leftover from the old gas-works factory from long ago, Nana twirling the flower between her fingers.

Nana sees a picture in her mind of a young pretty girl on her tiptoes kissing her boy by the factory wall. The picture is so striking that she takes Nolie's face in her hands and kisses him.

https://youtu.be/1eEY1AtYYZ0

Everything is quiet. Nolie sees nothing, feels nothing for that brief moment of time which seems to stretch into eternity; nothing except her lips, her warmth, her body pressed against his. His mind opens up to the universe, time is irrelevant, meaningless.

Her tongue languidly dips into his mouth finding his and he is brought back to reality. Nana is kissing him. His hands find her waist as he presses her back up against the wall, hiking up her little skirt with the white silk ruffles, feeling her curves. Her breath halts momentarily, but her hands follow suit with equal abandon.

Their hands explore each other as if they are dying of thirst and the other is the water. Their kisses become more urgent, echoing a tale of need and want. Their bodies, pressed close, moving against each other.

As Nana's lips move over Nolie's neck, she spies the old man watching them. She winks at him as she nibbles Nolie's earlobe. A look of embarrassment spreads over his face as he catches her eye, but he does not look away.

Their passion mounts. His hand moving her cotton panties to the side, feeling her wetness. Her hand pushing his trousers down, freeing the bulge that is there. Guiding him into her, feeling every bit of him as he enters her.

His smell, her taste, his touch, that moment he first enters her, his thrusts, her nails against his skin, his voice whispering in her ear, her little moans broken up by sharp intakes of breath, her leg wrapped around his waist, his hand clenched over her ass cheek steadying her, his lips tracing her neck, their frantic need.

They are lost in each other.

As the climax arrives, her legs quivering against him, Nana gasps a single work into Nolie's ear.

"Chéri!"
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