CFMB_fan
Literotica Guru
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Name: Adrian Lane
Age: 49
Height: 5' 12"
Weight: 210 lbs.
Hair: Black but very short, and receding
Eyes: piercing blue
Body Type: Overweight, but still toned, muscular.
Adrian got out of the car, and thanked the driver. With his day sack slung over his shoulder, he started to follow the signs, and more importantly the crowds of people as they tramped along the grass to the stages, and the hub of the music festival. His walk was purposeful, a serious gait, his broad shoulders square, leaning slightly forward from the weight of the camera gear on his back. He was used to carrying weight on his back, having served in the army for more time than he cared to remember. He enjoyed the service life, though as a member of the reserves, he had been mobilised several times in recent years to head of to sunnier climes. But now he was back on home soil, retired. But he still carried himself well, despite having gained a few pounds.
As he walked, he could feel the heat in the summer sun, the weather forcast unusually was good, no mudbath this year; though showers were anticipated on the Friday evening, but they would most be localised. He still had a waterproof packed though.
He had not been for almost 30 years, the last time was in the mid 80s as a student. But he decided it was time to revisit, and recall his memories of those drunken days. He was alone, but still conscious of the golden band on his finger. It was early afternoon, and the first bands were playing, as he walked around the site, taking a few photographs; trying to remember the layout, but soon was apparent that the layout had changed. He had recently successfully fought off cancer, and whilst he was still under medication, he was very much on the road to recovery. It was because of his fight that he realised life was too short, and so decided to go and explore; ‘let his hair’ down so to speak. But he wasn't camping. He had booked a room in a B&B close by, which he could walk to if required. He was also staying on the Sunday, and drive home on the monday morning after everyone else.... He also needed to charge his batteries and upload the photos before the following day. The security of a B&B suited him fine.
He was wearing a pair of old sturdy walking boots, worn but very comfortable and still very much waterproof, and a pair of shorts, his muscular legs already brown, from his regular commute to work, a round trip of around 20 miles. Hi was still struggling to complete the distance in the time before he was diagnosed, but he was knocking seconds off every week. He wore a bright orange Vest singlet, over which covered with an open short sleeve travelling shirt, and a cammo style bush hat, the brim trimmed - he needed to avoid getting his head burnt.
As he explored the area, he saw various alluring females, but as the sound of an 80’s band boomed from a stage, he headed over, buying himself a pint of beer, the thin plastic cup flexing, causing him to spill some of his drink.
But he was soon in the stage area, watching the group as he listened to the music, the former ‘New Wave’ group’ of the 80s looking very much older, their voices different, but still able to sing. He caught the attention of a couple of females, but as he placed his drink down, he forgot about them as he started to take photographs of the event; zooming into the stage, and the the two stars, Alf and Alison Moyet who had performed as Yazoo back in the mid 80’s. As the number finished, he looked at the screen of his Digital SLR. As the next number started, he moved around, his foot subconsciously tapping to the familiar beat.
Name: Adrian Lane
Age: 49
Height: 5' 12"
Weight: 210 lbs.
Hair: Black but very short, and receding
Eyes: piercing blue
Body Type: Overweight, but still toned, muscular.
Adrian got out of the car, and thanked the driver. With his day sack slung over his shoulder, he started to follow the signs, and more importantly the crowds of people as they tramped along the grass to the stages, and the hub of the music festival. His walk was purposeful, a serious gait, his broad shoulders square, leaning slightly forward from the weight of the camera gear on his back. He was used to carrying weight on his back, having served in the army for more time than he cared to remember. He enjoyed the service life, though as a member of the reserves, he had been mobilised several times in recent years to head of to sunnier climes. But now he was back on home soil, retired. But he still carried himself well, despite having gained a few pounds.
As he walked, he could feel the heat in the summer sun, the weather forcast unusually was good, no mudbath this year; though showers were anticipated on the Friday evening, but they would most be localised. He still had a waterproof packed though.
He had not been for almost 30 years, the last time was in the mid 80s as a student. But he decided it was time to revisit, and recall his memories of those drunken days. He was alone, but still conscious of the golden band on his finger. It was early afternoon, and the first bands were playing, as he walked around the site, taking a few photographs; trying to remember the layout, but soon was apparent that the layout had changed. He had recently successfully fought off cancer, and whilst he was still under medication, he was very much on the road to recovery. It was because of his fight that he realised life was too short, and so decided to go and explore; ‘let his hair’ down so to speak. But he wasn't camping. He had booked a room in a B&B close by, which he could walk to if required. He was also staying on the Sunday, and drive home on the monday morning after everyone else.... He also needed to charge his batteries and upload the photos before the following day. The security of a B&B suited him fine.
He was wearing a pair of old sturdy walking boots, worn but very comfortable and still very much waterproof, and a pair of shorts, his muscular legs already brown, from his regular commute to work, a round trip of around 20 miles. Hi was still struggling to complete the distance in the time before he was diagnosed, but he was knocking seconds off every week. He wore a bright orange Vest singlet, over which covered with an open short sleeve travelling shirt, and a cammo style bush hat, the brim trimmed - he needed to avoid getting his head burnt.
As he explored the area, he saw various alluring females, but as the sound of an 80’s band boomed from a stage, he headed over, buying himself a pint of beer, the thin plastic cup flexing, causing him to spill some of his drink.
But he was soon in the stage area, watching the group as he listened to the music, the former ‘New Wave’ group’ of the 80s looking very much older, their voices different, but still able to sing. He caught the attention of a couple of females, but as he placed his drink down, he forgot about them as he started to take photographs of the event; zooming into the stage, and the the two stars, Alf and Alison Moyet who had performed as Yazoo back in the mid 80’s. As the number finished, he looked at the screen of his Digital SLR. As the next number started, he moved around, his foot subconsciously tapping to the familiar beat.
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