"We stopped. Jules' distinctive voice echoed inside the spacious barn:"Stupid redneck motherfucker." I'm a native Indian, sir." Not you, Johnson. That...white-trash asshole on sentry duty." That was a sentry?" I asked in disbelief. No one bothered to satisfy my curiosity. Steve was also curious in his own way:"What about him, sir?" What about - Can't he tell I'm Jules-fucking-Caesar?" We could've been fakes sir." Fakes? Why the fuck are we wearing these clown hats for then?" Regulations?" Fuck. It was the first date for me but she was pretty experienced (you know what I mean). I met her at the garden entrance. We started talking and started walking in the garden. We went and sat at a spot and one thing led to another and we became horny.We became wondering what to do when suddenly it struck her that there was a secret lane in the garden where couples sit, cuddle and do stuff they can’t probably do in public.We went in the lane and saw the young horny India. There were couples talking,. Her flat, just-pubescent belly was totally exposed, and her boobs weren't supported by any sort of bra, making them jiggle visibly with every step she took. She felt awkward and nervous as she walked into the room.Steve was sitting at the table scattered with the 8x10's, and he was busily typing away at his laptop computer. He seemed too distracted to notice her at first, which made the girl feel even more awkward. But then he looked up and locked his eyes on her."Wow," he said. "God really. Then he thinks about the question and how foolish it is to even ask it. “Well I just hope you know how to get back.”As if responding to his question, the horse just stops. Casey looks around, unsure of what is going on. The horse snorts and drops his head to the ground to munch on a tuft of grass in the middle of the trail.“This isn’t a time to eat,” Casey complains. Come on,” he says, tugging on the reins. “Let’s turn back around. It’s getting late.”But the horse won’t budge. No matter how.