So why are they always so damn happy? Never without a grin, always giving an enthusiastic wave and a “how do ya do” no matter what time of the day...and no matter what day of the week. Life consistently gives them the shaft and yet they carry on like every day is the best damn day of their life. What’s their secret? Is it a loving partner that cares for them? Nope. Is it a newfound religion? Not likely. Is it drugs? No… well, maybe. But it’s also something else, something much more magical. No,. But, now the excitement of the experience was causing me to help him in any way I could. I adjusted my position on the bed to make it easier for him to enter. Pretty soon, he was inside with almost no trouble. He began a steady stroke. I redoubled my efforts with the female. Pretty soon things began to reach a wonderful group experience. The woman started to drip female juices, running out of her and into my mouth. She would stroke my hair and my arms. I could tell she was close. The same is. This larger sword will allow you keep your hands farther apart and provide a more similar motion.” He handed both swords to Oath, but he only took his grandfather’s sword. “I can’t accept that. That’s your trophy for killing the monster.”“You’re just renting it from me. Besides, if this venture works out, I’ll be rich enough to buy an even better sword.”“As you wish, then.” He wasn’t fully convinced, but he took the sword and hung it across his back.“Ok, let’s change our strategy a little.. When we got on the bus, we had to go and sit on the back seat because that's where rebels-without-a-clue sit. And as the bus did its stop/start, stop/start, stop/start journey, my twin mounds of Australian sandstone went whackety-whack up and down on the barely upholstered seat, and my bounteous jigglies of lusciousness were twerking on my chest like Miley Cyrus at the MTV Awards, and my fiery noobs of suffering were rubbing themselves in violent abandon on my skimpy blouse of concealment. As.