She was one-quarter Native American but appeared to be three-quarters, at least. She was about five-and-a-half-feet tall with beautiful, luscious thic... nearly-black hair that hung to the middle of her back. I knew her B-cup boobs were about as perfect of breasts that I had ever seen.For one brief moment, it was just she and I sitting in the living room. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch. I was on a chair across from her. I was looking at her, but trying, oh so hard, to not stare and. None of the women wore makeup and their hair was pulled back in simple braids. The clothes were drab colorless sacks that hung lifeless off their bodies, hiding all traces of femininity. The men were dressed in black pants, white shirts, and black suit coats. Their eyes were hateful, the mouths twisted into frowns, and their manner rigid.Just looking at them gave Glen shivers down his spine. He had never seen such a collection of miserable people. If they were truly God’s servants, then he. More

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