<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/e/e9/Jeffrey-Dean-Morgan6.jpg/441px-Jeffrey-Dean-Morgan6.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Greg Eames<br/><strong>Time &amp; Location:</strong>Evening | Eames residence<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Taegan<br/><strong>Dressed:</strong>Leather bomber jacket, silk shirt, slacks, boots<br/><strong>Content:</strong>At the Eames residence party<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Greg was no stranger to young women who were extroverts or even pushed the edge as far as dress or behavior.  This Taegan, though...watching her suck his thumb, never taking her eyes off of him...  She was a lot deeper lake than he'd expected.  "Well, you're small enough to be a kitten, aren't you?"<br/><br/>He ran a finger under her chin.  She was very pleasantly petite, rather different than many of the women his age in the community.  No, he was an equal-opportunity kind of guy.  Variety did speak to him louder than most of his other interests, and Taegan was almost exotic.  Definitely a delightful kind of mystery prize.<br/><br/><em>"Wait...What do I get out of this, Mr. Eames?  How about I trade you a button for a button?"</em><br/><br/>He put his hands on his hips.  "Fair's fair."  He slipped off his jacket smoothly, tossing it aside, and stayed put where he was, legs against the bed and a matter of inches from her there, kneeling on the bed.  Proximity was a powerful thing, whether you were next to a fire, the stage at a concert...or a beautiful woman who was willing.  Opening his shirt and pulling it out of his slacks, he revealed his well-put together form.  It took more to stay in good shape at his age, but it sure did pay dividends.