Kenzie let her eyes drift along Walter’s arms as he reached for her foot.  She felt the weight of the shoe vanish and then rough hands take hold of the tender arch of her foot and begin to massage.   This no woman could complain about.   Kenzie chose to wear heels, everywhere, for her own reasons, but she would be lying if she claimed her feet never suffered for it.   Walter’s strong hands seemed to find those knots that bunched along the muscles and work them with an expertise that seemed akin only to someone in the profession of working kinks from bodies.  She sighed softly and flicked her eyes back to Jules, the whiskey now rushing steady through her veins.<br/><br/>Jules seemed to waste no time, tugging her shirt free, working her pants slowly off.   If Kenzie had any reservations, they seemed to vanish the way the whiskey in the bottle had: quickly and without much thought.   Inhibitions seemed less important with Walter’s hands relaxing her and Jules soft voice drifted in the air like a melody.  And memories of the week before - all pleasant, all fun - rushed back in, while those that might hold her back seem to bury their heads in the proverbial space sand.<br/><br/>She helped Jules with the task by wriggling her hips and then reaching down to let the pants slide past her ass.  Her blue eyes regarded the other woman for a moment, and then, as though she felt compelled to prove she could do, Kenzie inched forward and pressed her lips softly to Walter’s, letting the kiss develop slowly and perhaps tentatively.  Biting would come, in due time, but for the moment, Kenzie let her reacclimate herself to the entire idea of him.<br/><br/>Because deep down she knew Walter was a good person.  A good man.  And that he would enjoy her and Jules for who they were.   And with that thought her fingers found his neck, her nails running lightly along his flesh before her teeth sunk down against his lower lip, not hard enough to break skin, but enough that he would feel it.