No bed of roses, that’s for damn sure. Might as well tell you about it. I hear that confession is good for the soul. I was born in the City of Cap-H...itien, northern Haiti, and raised in Quebec. My parents Louis and Marie Jeanne Fleur moved to Quebec from the island of Haiti in the 1990s. We’ve been living here ever since. I recently converted to Islam, which stunned my Haitian family since I was raised Christian. Folks, God is not a white man. Also, the real Jesus Christ was a middle-eastern. Their clan had always been much larger than ours consisting of about thirty males and at least twenty females even before the nine members of my clan had not returned from the bison hunt. They had established their current winter camp location three winters ago, having moved in from the west when an ice glacier in that area had pushed southward. Our clan had already been well established in the area at the time they had moved in, but that had done little to alter Threm's decision.I reasoned now. She was totally unconvinced by this bit but I said she should just try it on to explore a look. It wasn’t as if she needed to buy it. She relented and looked around for the changing rooms. I even thought that I saw a sudden suspicion come over her face and was as relieved as she seemed to be when we both spotted that right behind us, in our section of the floor, was a row of cubicles with wooden doors - no room for me to pull back a curtain at an embarrassing moment or anything. Reassured,. They fuck like wild animals, his cock ramming in and out of her pussy so hard I can hear the slapping of his balls against her mound and then crack with each plunge as she groans out her pleasures. Silently I vow to get even with them both. As they finish I hear a cell phone ringing. It's my phone. Sally smiles as she picks it up and brings the phone over putting it on speaker so I can hear. It is the captain telling me that there has been a change in plans and we sail again.