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“Well” she said, “in the last year, it’s gotten a little routine. You’re still the biggest cock that I’ve ever had, and I love EVERYTHING about you, but admit it… we’ve gotten a little predictable.”“Predictable?” I probed, as I began dipping my fingers into her very wet folds.“You know” she explained, “Like I can predict what night we’re going to have sex, how you’re going to start and even the position.”“I see” I said softly.“It’s okay” she added, “I’m not complaining… It’s just that then I met him at work, and we all started hanging out. Soon, he and were flirting. He is charming, has a really hot body and all of the girls seem drawn to him. I was just ecstatic that he seemed to be interested in ME. I know that he only wanted to get into my pants, but it flattered me. Then, we flirted, touched, teased and the next thing I knew, his dick was inside of me.”“Where was the first time” I asked.“Just down the hall” she blushed as she nodded toward the guest room. “The night he slept over. "I still want to try out that bullwhip sometime ..." Sheila mused, and Iturned my face to meet her stare, until she giggled. I had no ideawhether she was serious, those things could cause a lot of damage to mypoor hide, Sheila was becoming an enthusiastic convert to sadism, and Iworried about it. Her latest reading seemed to involve whipping slaves,who were tied or chained spread-eagled to trees or columns.I kissed her, and she grinned at me with love in her eyes, and then shereturned my kiss enthusiastically. The divorces were definitelypostponed.- - - -29. The Flat RaceI had been entered for the big race. There was prize money to be had -but more important than that - there was a shining 'gold' enamel-paintedcup to be won and engraved.Barbara had set her heart on winning that cup, and as her chosen ponygirl, it was my job to deliver it for her. I had absorbed a storm ofthreats of retribution should I fail her.She was so single-minded that I believed all of them."Fifi, just stay.
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This was the price of failure, she had buried all the rest of her family (though passing coyotes had swiftly dug into the shallow graves) and then had died herself. Their livestock had probably died, there was no sign of their bones. Without the draught animals they were trapped in the desert and patiently waited for death, with the slight chance of another party passing and rescuing them. It hadn’t happened. This was a time of self-reliance and fatalistic acceptance of God’s judgment.That evening the wind blew from the West. The humans were too dense, too poorly equipped after generations of living in houses, they could not smell the water. The bullocks could. They lowed loudly and strained at their harnesses. Perhaps that had happened to the wagon they had passed. “Quickly now, hitch them to the wagon, they will break free anyway. They may as well pull us with them” said Mr. O’Hara. The desperate animals moved faster than ever before, faster than was good for them or safe for the.

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