The only aboriginals I noticed were stockmen. Only one, ‘Grasshopper,’ was named. In 1963! Why doesn’t the history of the Ord River or the histo...y of Kununurra include those who were killed or moved or resettled? It’s because we don’t exist! Not that we’re slighted. That would be OK. We’re effaced.”“Can I say something?”“No. Let me vent. Please ... The souvenir place has stuffed animals and keychains and I even saw a snow-dome! Anyway, I’ve been reading Frontier Dreaming. Withers has a lot of. Like it was the most ordinary thing for one guy to say to another.I took a couple of photos and then checked them out. They looked totally hilarious: him wazzing that massive donger of his, with my cock stuffed halfway up his arse and my knackers pressing into the backs of his legs. This time we looked like we were proper into it: our faces made it seem like we were doing it for real.I had good laugh and then showed them to him.He laughed too: "Oh fuck, Jordan! You can see your prick up my. Take out. Okay. See you soon.’ She hung up. ‘She’ll be here in half an hour. What would you like me to do until then?’ I chuckled. ‘You sound like you’ll do whatever I ask.’ Her head dropped submissively. ‘I will. I’ll do whatever you want if it’ll make you happy. I just want you to like me.’ I lifted her chin. ‘I do like you, Tina.’ She exhaled. The smile on her face seemed to glow. ‘Tell me how to please you.’ If she hadn’t just blown me I’d have fucked her right then, but I needed some time. So much so that I fell asleep. When I woke up again, I looked at my watch and found it was around 4 in the morning. I quickly nipped out in the garden for a pee (I couldn't use the toilet). Once back in, I went into the main living room and sat on the settee. The house was stone quiet. I could hear nothing or could I? I slowly got up and crept to the bottom of the stairs and listened. Yes, I could definitely hear something. As quietly as I could, I stepped up the stairs. There, I could hear.