It was not a dreamless faint, no, no! I would not be granted with such blessing, for that would mean death, and death – though I wanted it not – I...still craved for. Do not scoff at this, it is not a rarity for man to have no desire in what they crave, such paradox is among the norm – the accepted. (I apologize for my constant digressions, friends. It is a habit I have long deemed necessary in the art of recounting the past.) Just to recount – my faint was not dreamless. No, certainly not, for I. The Dadaji barked at the Beta-Potte ordering him to beseech him while drilling the Beta-Potte’s ass. The Dadaji’s balls were swinging back and forth pelting the Potte’s ass crack and the Beta-Potte’s nutsac was getting squished each time the Dadaji pierced his asshole. The Beta-Potte was oozing substantially and his uncut dick was flaccid with his foreskin hiding his dick cap. The Beta arched his back. The Dada was working the Beta’s prostate and the Beta’s cock began to stiffen again until he. He showed them a place where the water was clear and deep enough to fill the buckets. They dragged the filled buckets into the cabin. Pelle started a fire and they filled the first large kettle with water to heat. The rest was poured into the wooden tub. They made two more trips to the brook to fill the tub.This time of the year the water in the brook was not really cold, but Pelle knew that cold water did not clean nearly as well as warm water. They would have to wait for the water to heat. To. Places that they don’t care about. They may even offer to guide you. For a fee, of course. Then they’ll take you into places where nobody has or is planning on working a still.”“I know of one old-timer that will start up a rumor, to bring folks like you in. Then he charges them to poke around on his property. He usually makes enough to keep himself and his wife in beans and bacon for the winter.”“The other times will be scary stories told around late-night dinner tables, or around the.