No, not a scream of objection, but a scream of ecstatic pleasure, followed by a long loud stream of Italian swearing which went quite beyond my limite... knowledge of the language, and certainly not in the spirit of Ghislanzoni. I lay below, inhaling the girl’s young cunt-fragrance whilst watching my lover’s huge cock – not much more than a couple of hours old yet, in this world anyway – pounding in and out of our waitress’s tight arsehole. I reached up with both my hands, curling two fingers of. My muscles seemed exhausted all at once, and they responded only as though I were immersed in some sort of very thick fluid. Shortly, this wore off, and I turned to look at him, but he was not there. I was in a round room made entirely of stone blocks about the size of my head, and which were uniformly a dark gray in color. The room appeared too big to have no ceiling supports of any kind, which made me instantly uneasy. Then I noticed that there was a stairway down and a door almost directly. “This situation is so ridiculous, I don’t even know what to say,” she giggled. “You didn’t take it like I thought you would.” “The Indians used dogs to cure all sorts of infections. They swore that a dog’s saliva could cure almost everything,” I said significantly. “Like what?” “Like venereal disease, yeast infections, gunshot wounds . . . ” I let my words trail off. “We are part Indian, you know?” I finished lamely. “You have any of those?” “No. Doesn't that sound stupid?"Ramona shook her head. "No, it's not stupid. Not to me." She sat, her feet tucked under her and stared at her son. "It makes me tingle when you say you're jealous."Robby looked back. "You know how sometimes you want something really bad, and it's all you can think about? You save your money and you dream about going to buy it, and what it will be like when you have it and all that."Ramona nodded.Robby nodded with her. "It's like that with you. I'll be in bed, and I.