“You wanted a good fuckin’, boy, now I’m gonna give ya one. Take that big cock. Tell me how much you like it.”“Yeah, fuck me. Fuck my ass. I...love your cock you in my ass. You can fuck me any which way. Do whatever you want, just don’t take that cock out of my ass.”“What if I do this,” he said, as he pulled his cock all the way out, then rammed back into me.“Fuck, yes. Use that ass! Fuck it good.”“That’s a good little whore. You’re just a truck stop whore, aren’t ya, boy.”“Yes, sir. I’m a truck. The two Tibu who met us rode beasts they called Rul — which I learned much later, meant 'ridge runner' in the language of the Tibu. It was an interesting language, more for what it wasn't than for what it was. I did not know it then, or have much opportunity to learn it, as the Tibu spoke mind-to-mind amongst themselves, and this, among other things, was what kept them so well hidden in the endless bog that was the Bitter Peat. The spoken language was a mix of several different languages, or. "Rachel looked at her son. She had a pleased, yet wistful look on her face. "Mark, this is the first time since you were very small, about six years old, you've asked my help and said you needed it. Thank you for needing me."Melissa asked, "Where do I fit into all this, Marky?" You fit right in the middle of everything, Babe. Well, you do if you stop calling me Marky. You know how I hate that. How would you like it if I started calling you Melly Girl?' You wouldn't like that at all."Her. I tremble at the thought of what you might do to me and scream into my pillow, you plough further up and then slowly work yourself in and out of my gripping organ. A little more of you pushes up every time and I think, “Oh God, what have I let myself in for, he’s so big, I can’t take much more of him.”Those hairy legs are still not on the back of my thighs and I wonder how much more of you is still waiting to be shoved up my tiny hole. I still bury my faceas your rhythm has me working back.