George told me it was OK and apologized for barging in. He said he should have known better that to burst in on a young boy with time on his hands and...laughed.That made me feel better, but I was still hiding myself down by the side of the bed and wishing he'd go away. But he didn't.He started asking me about what I was doing, how long I'd been at it, did I like it? Stuff like that.I answered the questions even though they were very personal. George saw what I had left on my screen and asked if. Those that fought on the losing side kept their mouths shut about it.By the following evening Rolly had progressed upwards another fifteen hundred feet in elevation and reached the top of the pass. That night it was cold and the wind tried to tear his tent down. The next morning he had to dig out from under a half foot of fresh snow. That made the trail hard to follow.Two days later Rolly spied an odd looking lump off the side of the trail. It turned out to be the carcass of a mule that wolves. Darleen stroked Caroline's head and continued."Helen told me all about it, that first day I was there. She started with a dog when she was just a kid. She had a pet and one day when she was playing with him, he got a hard-on. It fascinated her. She had never seen a stiff prick before, but she knew what they were for. She jacked the dog off the first time. She loved doing it, loved to feel his prick pounding in her hand and then to see the jism squirt out. The dog loved it, too, of course. After. He reached down and spreading my legs roughly, began to punch between my legs, "Stupid fucking hole," he muttered as his fist slammed into the tender skin of my lips rhythmically, "just a hole, just a hole, just a hole." I was crying and begging incoherently, opening my legs as far as I could for his brutal punishment. He looked down on me lying on the table in the tattered remains of my dress and my mother's pearls and laughed cruelly as my desire betrayed me and hot creamy juice covered.