She kissed me again, and Betty said something from the driver’s seat that I did not entirely hear. Marcella leaned over and whispered in my ear; “...hen you fuck me, please call me ‘mama.’” I nodded and kissed her. She kissed back and whispered again; “And please don’t be afraid to cum in me, mama wants your cum mijo.”We arrived at Marcella’s about then. It was a condo, with a private back yard which I was lead around to. Marcella went inside to change, and Betty encouraged me to strip down and. Mike was responding as he received the cum from twoorgasms.We broke up, and I got dinner ready. There was another game on thetelevision, but I will admit that Billy had the courtesy to come to dinnerwith the TV off. My cooking was basic compared to Ari's, but I had broileda passable steak, and the frozen french fries were much better than I hadhoped. I had also learned that a good bottle of wine can make of for someof the dinner's deficiencies. I served two bottles. We didn't talkfootball. A field lies in front of me, and there's an old barn on the other side of it. A small, rocky hill lies to the right of the barn and the field. I decide to pee up by the barn. I step into the field and start walking towards the barn. As I approach it, I hear laughter. Immediately to the left of the barn, four or five ladies appear through an opening between the dense, tall bushes that grow along the lane. They are on their way down the lane towards the main road. They are apparently coming from. Not the fact his brothers was in prison, or the fact his crew had betrayed him. Not even his sisters' safety. All that mattered was waiting for Cesar to come pick him up. Always focused on the task at hand. The mindless chatter of travelers and hick truckers was starting to grind on Carl's nerves by the time a familiar red lowrider rolled off the freeway. Carl stood up and headed out into the lot as Cesar came to a stop amongst the parked cars. 'Farewell to this fucking place', Carl thought,.