There's never been gold mining in that one so I meandered up the valley floor.I looked around a lot. Archaeologists suffer from the "grazing cow syndr...me." We look at our feet and swing our heads side to side like cows looking for a delightful bit of grass, but we're really looking for evidence of prior occupation in the form of cultural material. It doesn't have to be artifactual debris, it can be the white mans' trash. You might be surprised at the things early settlers throw away, or drop. "All right, have it your way!" he'd yelled, "If you want to sulk like a child, go ahead. But don't expect me to get down on my hands and knees to you." And don't forget, you're not exactly a model wife yourself!" he'd hurled at her as he slammed the door. His last rebuke had stung most of all. Her husband had bit nearer the truth than he'd imagined. Her record wasn't exactly spotless, she thought bitterly, remembering her unadulterated ecstasy as Sam Maguire had fingered her freely in the. Mi maza lauda tichya chut var ragdu laglo.ti kinchalat hoti aaaaaaaaaa…………eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee………….ata mi lauda jotrat ghasu laglo, 5-10 minitanantar tine maza lauda tichya chut var thevla aani mhanali aata vaat nako pahu ghal. mi ek jhatka dila ti kinchalayala lagli uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu ….aaaaaaaaa…… Maza lauda thodasa aat gela hota…. Aata ti khalun jahtke maru lagli. Mi aankhi ek jhatka marla tichya aarodya mala mantramugdha karat hotya,… Maza lauda aata pura madhe gela hota….. Aata mi jorjorat jhatke. She was shouting, “Fuck me, son,” while I kept fucking her harder and harder. Her moaning was very loud. It was the gap of so many years from sex that I was fulfilling. She became calm only after we came into each other. Her shouts were so loud that our neighbors got alerted.One of our nosey neighbors, Rekha aunty, came to our home. When she rang the doorbell, my mom and I started wearing our clothes. I wore my boxers and banyan, and my mom wore her nightie. I opened the door, and Rekha aunty.