My legs are tired and ache but I’m only halfway through this run. It’s a hot Michigan day, but on the trail, it is shaded and feels cooler. I have...never been a great runner. My father would always say, “You're not suited for distance, Rachel, you're a speedrunner.” I enjoy running these wooded trails because I rarely see anyone out here, so I’m comfortable wearing just a sports bra and my sport shorts. My blue sport thong is saturated with sweat and has been riding up my ass all run. I should. I could feel it in the air, but so far and for the past week it had been fine.Through habit in the morning I always brought my rifle out, gave it a thorough clean, pulled through the barrel and applied a light oiling. It was a ritual that one just carried out unconsciously.After cleaning the rifle I walked over to the van to pick up some victuals that was needed for the day and in case of rain for the next couple of days. I propped my rifle against the rear wheel before I entered the rear of. "I'm going to wear a new shocking pink Lycra PVC dress with a tight mini skirt effect. It zips all the way down the front!" I stated "Here help me into it!" I continued holding the small pink fabric in my hand."There doesn't seem to be much of it?" He gulped."Wait until you see it on. Very sexy and very slutty!" I giggled. I held up the dress as I slipped my arms through the short sleeves. Clicking the zip into the hold at cleavage level, I asked hubby to pull the zip the full length and smooth. B. bastard faggotty, or closet-faggot preacher-man had cussed me out within that being of the atmosphere for the premises of properties for that being of a public facility of a nigga, or nigger church that he himself presides over whereas from there I myself haven't felt that being of the same ever since, & as he himself had cussed me out for that being of the last part of last year, imagine that, & so now I myself just really go to church as of the present given moment in time so that I can,.