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I don't, my parents brought me up whiteye and I've stayed that way. Still, I thought it'd be pretty neat to walk the hills my ancestors walked and dig in the ground where they lived. Kind of romantic sounding.Tell you, it ain't like that. Not a damn bit. Not even if you're one of the big shots, let alone a dumb-ass volunteer who wouldn't know an artifact from a bear's ass. Just sweat and muscle and the hot sun all damn day when it's clear and wet and nasty when it's raining and dirty all the time. Took me about three days to figure out this wasn't how I wanted to spend a whole summer. Except the girl—Veronica was her name or something like that, can't really remember now—she was really hot to trot and once in a while we could get a little time to ourselves, and, well, I stuck to it. See, she was pretty happy about me being willing to do the grunt stuff just to be around her, and for maybe about three weeks it wasn't all that bad.The piece? Well, I'm getting to that. Told you it was a. The insides of her cunt felt amazing, even better than Amy's. I could feel the soft ridges on either all up her vagina, and she flewed her muscles expertly to make the pleasure almost unbearable. She would tease me by tensing up before letting my cock go, making me moan loudly. She was really good at this! Well, two could play at this game, so I pulled my dick out of her cunt.She screamed, "Put it back in! Put your fucking cock back in there Jay!"I loved to hear her yell like this. Eventually I obeyed, inserting my member back into her because I couldn't bear to hold it out any longer. We started a slow grind into one another, savouring the moment together. I kissed the back of her neck, while my hands found their way around to her breasts. it was silent for a while, as neither of us wanted to break the spell.Finally my mother announced, "Okay, that's it Jay. Time for you to fuck me doggy style. Here, let me get up and get on the floor."I happily agreed and soon she was kneeling on.
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In fact, he didn’t move at all. She began to trot, sensing some kind of urgency even though she could barely see his face in the gathering gloom. The arc of the streetlight didn’t extend this far. He was lying on his back in the borrowed light from the street and the hotel on the opposite side of the river. Just the way he hadn’t moved had raised her concern. As she reached him she got a better view. He was about her age, tallish and slim, with mussed-up brown hair. His legs were firm and muscular, and sheened with sweat. He was clutching at his ankle, and pressing the bone with his fingers in a medically ignorant kind of way. Her shadow crossed him as she crouched down to help.Later, she couldn’t recall how long they’d stared at each other, when their eyes met for the first time. It was achingly, horrifyingly, wonderfully long. At first, she’d looked because it was like looking into a mirror. Not physically, but somehow he seemed so familiar to her. Something about his face, his.

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