About an hour later Amya came back dressed in sweat pants and a shirt and just sat beside me.“Alicia this is Amya, Amya this is my neighbor that liv...s across the street Alicia” as I introduced the two ladies. Who each said hi.“Lee and I will be around if you need us AJ, don’t hesitate to call us. Anytime you need help” Said Alicia before she left.“I’m so sorry AJ” Amya said.“It’s ok Amya. What happened to you? I remember you being dragged away but I lost consciousness then?”“Oh AJ you don’t. We got on a next bus to Teheran, had a long wait at the border with a rare clear view on Mount Ararat.We got as sad as all other passengers, students mostly, who feared their fate of becoming canon-food.We saw photos of martyrs above front-doors of almost every house in Kurdistan, died in the Iraqi war.We couldn't follow the old hippie trail through Afghanistan, in war with Russia, we went by Pakistan.We took the train in Quetta, we were lucky that the border near Lahore was only closed for two. His large balls slapped against the soft, firm ass cheeks. With growing lust he pumped his widowed mother in law,driving as deep as possible with each thrust. “Oh son, I am cumming!” horny widow shouted into the room, “Cum for me! Fuck your mother…..cum in my cunt…..fuck….cum in my choot…Fill me with your sperm” With eyes closed and arching ass, she grunted, “Yes! Yes! Fill your mother’s pussy with your sweet seed!” Mukesh felt a stream of sperm is rising from his balls. He knew within seconds. . flash-forward. I had been reading Roger Hilsman’s book, To Move a Nation, and he mentioned that he, working with the National Photointerpretation Center, developed the discipline of “crateology”, or the signatures of the way the Soviets would create specific equipment for shipping. This seemed like a technique that should have remained classified.“Anyway, on this day, maritime patrol aircraft started photographing oversize crates being carried as desk cargo on Soviet vessels. The initial.