“Let me give you’re a hint,” he answered. “In the early nineteen-seventies, Christie had a huge hit with a song entitled: Yellow River. Have y...u ever heard the song?”“No,” I honestly answered, now totally bewildered.Picking up on my expression, Tully resumed, “Piss… I love, piss. I like watching piss flowing, I love the smell of piss, and I love the taste of piss.”‘Oh fuck,’ I thought, ‘I knew this was too good to be true.’I did not answer but merely stood looking at Tully. After a brief. He left his shirt and buckskin breeches to be cleaned and the woman said she would have them done by mid afternoon. Tom went to the livery stable and talked to Mr. Langley for a while as he got his horse settled in. He took his Henry and walked up the street where he met the sheriff coming out of the hotel.“Morning sheriff.”“Morning Tom.”The two walked back to the office where Tom told sheriff Keyes all about his stay at the Canady Ranch. Tom told him about the race and then told him about the. And so he proceeded to fuck me from behind right there in the woods. Of course, he then told me to lick him clean. No surprise. As I was about done, he told me to stay there while he pissed. And so my refreshment consisted of a fresh warm piss. I was immediately ordered back to work. My arms and body were being scraped and scratched even more. Every muscle and bone in my body hurt beyond belief. But there was no break and no relief. I knew that if I stopped even for a minute, I would. I gasp at the sudden intrusion. Sinking in deeper, my finger becomes sodden by the moisture of my eagerness to be pleased. My fingers gladly oblige. I slide my finger out of my dripping pussy. My other hand finds the warmth and two fingers slip inside. Deeper. Deeper. Until they won’t go any more. I flex them back and forth, making my tight little hole even wetter. Feeling left out, my other hand reaches in to seize my throbbing clit. I capture the swollen nub between two fingers and stroke it.
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