We had no use for it, so we decided to sell tickets for the place to pad our Christmas fund." He reached under the bar and pulled out a steno pad. "Th... last six tickets are still open."I thought fast. I easily had that grand in the bank that I could afford to gamble and lose. Besides, if I did win and things didn't work out I could flip the place for a ready-made retirement fund. It only made sense. I hauled out my check book. "Put me down for a ticket, would ya?" I wrote out a check to the. I was mad at everyone and really needed to vent my anger. There wasn’t anyone I could get angry at. You know, you can’t yell at your boss and quit. You can’t yell at any of your coworkers or you’ll get fired. So who was left? The only name on the short list was you.”“I guess I should feel honored, but I don’t,” Dexter said.“You didn’t even know I was mad at you, did you?”“I had no clue.”“I sent out that text message figuring that I’d get a call from you within two minutes. I waited and nothing. Each pounding sends shockwaves throughout her vagina. They settle into a groove, like the rocking of the ocean waves, her legs wrapping around his lower back. He arches his back to lift her slightly off the bed, cupping his hands under her tight ass. Then without missing a stroke, he continuously buries his cock inside her, occasionally stopping to grind his cock against her clit. The pace quickens until they are mere animals engulfed in their own rapid pace of fucking each other without. From the north, you'll pass the schoolhouse and Old Man Morgan's Garage and Auto Dealership, the first (and so far only) branch of the National First And Cautious Bank, the blunt, barnlike structure of the town hall, and Hot Black Joe's coffee house, but, either way, your journey's going to end with a big wooden cock.And if curious visitors never tire of asking the question, then Father Patrick Malone, his back straight and his eyes bright despite eighty years of life, never tires of answering.