"Who's this pup?" Riley asked pointing to Clay with a smile."Name's Clay Boudreau, Mr. Johnson. I just met Sam the other day when he pulled me out of ... bad situation." Clay went on to explain their meeting. "Reckon I'd still be there if Sam hadn't decided to help me." I always did have more gumption than sense," Sam said to Riley laughing. "Couldn't let the boy have all the fun now." Them Paiutes and the Navajo too, been real excitable ever since the Mormons built their fort," Riley. The spike touches back of her head where the Master has made it smooth and shiny. Master begins to rock it backwards and forwards, gently, yet dominantly. The little girly begins to burble. Her eyes bulge. The spike pokes, and pokes. The smooth skin becomes wet and greasy off the sludge and filth. The smelly little female's hands have not been restrained, they try to grip the pipe, try to stop the pipe as it rocks and pushes, but her delicate hands can do nought but slip and slide on the wet. More

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