I always have a fatal attraction with a handsome stranger when I visit Vegas. Our eyes meet from a distance. Because I'm always a little too nervous to approach him, I wait for him to approach me. Bold. Clear amber hue. A city boy with southern charm. I'm intrigued. Dapper. He makes me feel like a classy lady. Compliments me. Has manners. And when the attraction is too much to resist, my inhibitions go away and put him to my lips. He tastes as smooth as he looks. It's passionate, slow, and affectionate. I take my time for I know our affair must be short-lived. His tastes lingers long after our last touch. I will miss him dearly. I hope we meet again soon.
I write not of a new lover, but certainly of a new love. I write about the best Makers Mark Manhattan I've ever tasted. I even took a photo with my shitty iPhone camera to upload to my Facebook profile http://static1.px.yelpcdn.com/photo/DhSvFEjrk4JNbG_g3vDpag/l
Oh, the quail's pretty good too. As expected, it was expensive.