Reagan looked over the pictures again from her girls trip to Italy. She was focused on one from lunch one day over Aperol Spritzes, where her friend Brigid decided to volunteer for a local tradition. The staff wheeled out the small but effective guillotine that Brigid imagined was a prop, but sure enough, drop went the blade and plop went her head onto her plate. The girls were feeling the buzz from the free-flowing drinks and cheered as Brigid's head was carted away to the bar to be hung up in a place of honor.<br /><br />Richelle had snapped this photo of Reagan, her thumb and hands feeling the smooth, fine place where Brigid's head once rested. She'd never had these kind of feelings before but she was enamored by the free-spirit of her body and its elegance. She remembered how the electricity in the air consumed her, this almost intimate scene captured forever. <br /><br />Before they left the restaurant, Brigid's head called Reagan over, whispering that she wants her to look after her body for the next couple months as she "extends" her vacation for the season as the centerpiece of this small, family run joint. Reagan boldly planted a wet kiss on her cheek, and said there's more when she has her head back home. Brigid smiles and says to make sure her body gets plenty of those lips, too. <br /><br />Richelle's going to pick up her head next time she flies back, Reagan remembered. Brigid's body sits down next to Reagan, putting her legs up on the couch and nuzzling her shoulder against Reagan's chest. Reagan used to steal glances down her shirt but Brigid's grown to admire the attention, pulling down her shirt to exaggerate her cleavage. Reagan laughs, and soon enough she's going head first in Brigid's garden again, much like Brigid's head toppling off in that rolling, countryside garden restaurant. <br /><br />3/5 images as thanks for 500+ watchers