<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(235, 107, 86)">Name:</span></b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(235, 107, 86)"> Peter Anderson<br/>
<b>Location:</b> Beach House<br/>
<b>Tagged:</b> Open/Lea<br/>
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Peter bed adieu to the other boy. He wasn't sure if he was going to make friends with any of Simons friends. They were Simon's friends, after all. But it might provide an opportunity to get real dirt on his younger brother, something else to hang over his head. He wondered if their parents even knew about the party that was going on, or how long they planned to stay here. It was spring break, afterall - saying that schools would even return to session afterwards.<br/>
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The pretty blonde woman leaned into him. He could sense a lonely woman when he saw one. "Of course. I am a man of my word." He slid his arm around her waist, getting much more comfortable with him. He had never been with a woman more than a few years older than him - he certainly wasn't opposed to dipping his stick into some one closer to his parents age. Lea was quite a beautiful woman...and busty on top of that. He let his hand travel low on her waist, large hand splayed wide so parts of his fingers rested on the soft curve of her ass.<br/>
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"Thats not where they keep the good stuff, by the way." He says, once out of ear shot of the bar. "If you wanted something stronger than some iced tea. This is the kitchen - just the kitchen isle to separate it from the main living area. Beach house...open air...I'm sure you've seen it all before." He took her down a hallway, shoulder to shoulder to fit beside her and retain his arm around her, steering her past a door. "That leads down to the dungeon...I mean, the home theatre. Nice and cool at all times of the year down there, being underground with no windows. And thats the dining room...where I don't think I've ever had a meal." He chuckled softly, passing by the study that was always off limits - his fathers pride and joy, though he didn't know what was in there. <br/>
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They were towards the front of the house now, overlooking the road out front. At the bottom of the stairs, he urged her forward -a step ahead of him, letting him check her ass out. "And the bedrooms..." His arm slid around her waist, hugging her against his side. "...care for that stronger drink?"</span><br/><br/><br/><br/><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(251, 160, 38)">Name:</span></b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(251, 160, 38)"> Simon Anderson<br/>
<b>Location:</b> Beach House -&gt; Master Bedroom<br/>
<b>Tagged: </b>Open, Justin<br/>
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Simon was on the verge of tears, a mixture of frustration and pain. Then he heard Justins voice and drew in several short, quick breaths to try and compose himself. "Yo, Just-in." He responds, though such words were foreign on his lips and extremely awkward. "I...uh...I tripped and hurt my hand, I guess." He lied. No one ever landed on their knuckles when falling. "Thanks." He adds, as Justin lays out one of the medkits - something he had been struggling to do with one hand.<br/>
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He found the hydro-peroixde and poured the brown liquid liberally onto his fist, wincing a little where it bubbled into the deeper gashes. He shook his hand to dry it and then began to wrap gauze around it, tucking the ends in neatly before flexing his hand. Nothing felt broken, but it was already swelling a little. "I...I don't want this to be a frat house. We were supposed to come down here, enjoy the sun, enjoy the beach, relax...not have a rager!"</span>