I heard the small outboard motor slow, then stop as the boat glided to my little dock.Juan: Hello in the house Miss Gracie.Juan wasn't Mexican or even...Hispanic at all, he had informed me when we first met. He was a Latin coon ass Cajun.Me: Well if it ain't my favorite Cajun. What you doing in the weeds?I knew what he was doing, but it was what people did on Cord Bayou. You just never assumed anything. One always asked.Juan: Why, I come to take you fishin Cher.Me: Juan what am I going to do with. It was all over her face! Her parted lips, her closed eyes, her red cheeks, her slightly trembling frame, her squeezing pussy lips and asshole, everything screamed of an incoming orgasm.He slapped her ass cheek again and said, “You dirty bitch! Don’t you dare to come without my permission!”She opened her eyes and looked back at him, pain and pleasure marking her face. “Please…”He spanked her again. “Stop talking!” He realized his spanking was bringing her closer to climax. He chuckled and. “That doesn’t make any sense.”Carsina just shook her head while the monster gurgled. Greta hacked at it with her sword now. Every watery sweep sent more and more jellied flesh to splatter the ground, the ooze shrinking in size now, dying.Did I control it?EalaínMy blows slammed into the back of the monster. Black ichor spurted around the bade of my ax while I felt the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my hammer. Light exploded. The monster howled, its bulk stumbling over Zanyia.She lay dazed,. What he heard was too weird. He had been unconscious for five days, and he still didn't know what had happened to him. He wanted to go to the village and tell them he is alive, but the feeling that tormented him all day began to amplify. It was thirst like no thirst he had ever felt. He went to a nearby stream he knew and began drinking, but the water only made him thirstier. As he sat there, unsure what to do, he smelt something unknown, something new and pleasant to him. He didn't know what.