My mouth against his thick cock and the musky odor of his jockey shorts were making my cock throb. I pulled the waistband down so I could free his st...ff rod and take it in my mouth. He pushed the back of my head down on his fuck stick and lifted his hips and buried my face in his crotch. His cock was thick and I gagged as I struggled to break free of his grasp. He kept his grip on my head and thrust his hips upward, forcing his cock deeper into my mouth and down my throat. I wasn't accustomed. "The Virus" sounded better, somehow, than "Death Ray" or some other pseudo-scientific term. It was also perhaps more likely, as an explanation.We would, perhaps, never know.Ingmar drove up beside us in an RV not that dissimilar to our own at around 11 a.m., almost two full days after we'd arrived in Minneapolis.He turned out to look not at all similar to the grizzled lumberjack I had imagined. He was a smallish, gray-haired man with a light gray beard. He was in good physical shape, and looked. More

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