O.b. bastard of a cowardly-bully, &/or terrorist-wannabe has, or had pretty much like so killed that being of my 'mojo' with all of the rather extreme... & likewise excessive noises of different sorts, or types being of which he himself makes daily, &/or nightly, & especially if at some, or such a given moment in time that being of my person could possibly either being watching some, or such porn being of which exploits that being of the intimacy, sensuality, or sexuality of born, & raised female. Then he exchanged his hand for his lips and tongue.His fingers that were still touching her folds began to feel moist.Jan touched her nipple with his teeth and gently bit down on it.Laura moaned against the tape as her eyelids fluttered open and closed again and again.The pleasure was just too much for her to bear.She needed more.She wanted more.Laura tried to talk through her tape.Her eyes turned into longing ones.Only then did his fingers leave her now wet folds and took hold of both breasts. Kerouac and Casaday had stayed in this town, in the pages of _On the Road_, or at least a town like this. Tangier in the '40's had places like this... **** Kiki, the small c***d of the family who owned the hotel, brought them a bottle of Mezcal, cooled by an inadequate refrigerator in the cantina downstairs. Already, the room had grown close with the smell of their bodies, and the two looked at him with eyes of a color never seen in this village. The color. I spent it all on Ducky’s dirt weed. No wonder he called it bull-rider… It’s fuckin’ bull-shit.’ The man laughed. ‘You’re a funny one. But that’s alright girly, we ain’t sellin’ it anyhow.’ ‘What do you mean, ‘you ain’t sellin’ it’?’ ‘He means that no amount of money can make us part with this shit. It’s that good,’ another man, with a shaved head, chimed in. ‘See that bike right there little lady?’ The bearded man asked. ‘Yeah, nice chopper,’ Christine said, admiring the bike. The.