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. WANTED it.”“But you were being raped, Joanie.”“That’s true but I was still in that dreamy fog I was put into. It’s hard to understand ... even for me ... even today.”“It was still difficult for me to understand that Bull’s cock was so big that the part that was still outside of my mouth was longer than what was IN my mouth, longer than my husband’s ENTIRE cock. With his hand that was wrapped around the part that wasn’t in my mouth, he started jacking it. His body tensed and froze as the bag of his walnut-sized balls bounced on my chin. It was as if he were in a trance. I could feel gouts of sperm flowing through his urethra on their way to the back of my throat. It was surreal how I knew what was coming. In his first shot, couldn’t believe how much sperm was in my mouth, like he had broken two, extra-large eggs in my mouth.As I gulped the huge rope of his sperm Bull cried out, “JESUS Joanie, JEEEEZUS.” His cock clutched, recoiled then let another flood go. “HOLY SHIT, baby,” he. One thing this incident did: it convinced me to pack some laudanum with me from now on.I stripped the bushwhacker of his valuables, and that included everything but his pants. There was too much shit for me to want to bother washing out, so I left them. The wild hogs and coyotes would have a banquet with this one.I was pretty sore when I got to Sweet Water, and I was barely able to make it up the steps to Mr. Schmidt's gun shop. He could tell that I was in pain the moment that I entered his shop. He got the story out of me and insisted that I come home with him. I demurred, but he kept insisting, so the only thing that I could do was to accept his hospitality. He helped me onto my horse and led my little caravan to his home.Mrs. Schmidt was as kindhearted as her husband, so they quickly had me in bed in the spare room with my clothes removed. That was slightly embarrassing, but I was hurting so much by this time that I did not worry about that for long. Mrs. Schmidt was a very.
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The pit was resting on the plate before her and the other half of the soft bounty was in my hand, dripping its succulent juice along my fingers. I had to admit, this was certainly not what I had expected.Emma had called me the night before, an air of seduction on her voice, pulling me into her like a dark temptress. She had that effect on people; the kind of effect that made your knees wobble and your desires throb incessantly."Come over," she'd said to me. She spoke only quick, monotonous words, but the way she said them was utterly revealing of her true intent. "We'll have mangos."You see, on our first date in steamy July, we went to a restaurant near the shore. We didn't eat much, awaiting only our dessert. She'd asked me what I wanted and I'd looked at the menu. The first thing that caught my eye was the word `mango,' which is my favorite fruit and as I would later learn, hers as well. Mangos became a tradition between us, a passionate link that triggered our already mounting.

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