"And you taste like sausage." I still thought she was kidding. I had had two helpings of everything on the breakfast table.As I closed the door it was...evident that she was serious. A few minutes before she had grinned back at me from across the table. Now, her jaw was set and her eyes told me she was angry about something. Was it Rosita's smell? That would be easy to explain.I wanted to talk about something else on the way home. I wanted to tell her about the meeting with Mr. Waite and being. I smelled the sweet scent of something other than tobacco, and being in ignorant middle-age myself, pretended not to notice. There was music, dancing and hilarity as the Earth, ancient and elemental spoke to me. The fire, a leaping war dance of flames, with the poetic murmuring cadence of the waves, a timeless, endless susurration, a lullaby beneath the cold panoply of moon and stars above, held my gaze until I looked up and fell in love. I’d thought her nondescript, but I was a fool. She was. He’d caught dozens of catfish, eels, carp, snakeheads and gar in this particular location, so he made a habit of setting his lines there. Unfortunately, he had no such luck today. At first, there seemed to be nothing on the hooks at all, but then, some started to come up with nothing more than mere scraps and fish heads. U Tha cursed under his breath. Something — or perhaps even someone — must have found out about this spot and started poaching from him. As if in response to his colorful. As always, she was just along for the ride. “You’d better hurry, pet. You don’t have long.” “I know…” Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to recall anything to help her in her quest for words describing snow, wondering if Ryan would really keep his promise, the threat of making her stand in the doorway, naked, his cum trickling down the inside of her thighs until she either thought of twenty words for snow or Robert and Jenny returned. He wouldn’t dare. Would he? “I’m freezing!” she declared.