It wasn't fun anymore, he seemed to say, and Susan had agreed. Anyway, for a no-nonsense kind of girl like her, Botanical Survey, the stuff of the professoriate, was so much more satisfying than had been Environmental Reclamation, with its mucking around in menses-red Carolina gumbo, steaming with who-knows-what toxins, with its spying on sweltering, stinking pig farms and their owners, and with her jacking off overheated Tarheel undergrads during sticky evenings' diversions. The desert, on the other hand, she knew to be pure in its dry contrasts of color and light, hot and cold, good and evil. It left no doubt. That was its nature. The two made their way to the seep in no time, just in time. The sun was low and the desert's daily breath was waning. Its last puffs waft cold: it's Legion's chilled hands stroked wavelets of goose bumps onto her naked arms and legs. The girl wasn't tired now, but knowing she must stay naked for the next many hours in Easter week chill already had turned her body languid. She longed for the toasty glow of her bright Dildos afternoon nap, the cuddle-up warmth of her bedroll -- "Nonsense. C'mom. Focus --" she scolded herself. She knew she must put all of that out of her mind, warmth, softness, goodness, and such. She must suffer in the cold tonight. She must become a Piscean sacrifice there to feed some unseen multitude. She had to. It was her nature now. She was compelled. Once six years ago as a rebellious post-grad gamine, as just another flaky summertime runaway to the Big City, then Lesbian one smoggy August eve she had offered body and soul just for the fun of it. It had been a hazy, boozily spinning, kinky kind of alkaloid ritual, just a stupid Passion play gametic stunt when it started, when she had lain upon a Cross inside a Pentagram on a New York rooftop. That's all. That's what she had thought then. That's what she had thought then amid a swirl of cats' eyes and the scent of Rosemary as she splayed out like an Ichthus scratched onto a Roman floor. That's what the girl had thought, wrongly, in her ignorance. There are no prayers uttered in jest, neither from a Gotham japanese rooftop nor from the high places of Tophet: So now she was obligated. Now she was compelled. She had sacrificed her innocence, so now she had an Owner, so now she had a Watchdog. She was driven on. “Well...” My wife furrowed her brow. I was comfy.” Cindy whined. Karen pulled her a few feet further, "Hands on your head slut and spread japanese your legs." Lily gripped the bottom of her loose tshirt, wet and stained with her spit and Lesbian his seed. I slipped one strap off her shoulder and one of her breasts became exposed. I got up, threw some sweats on and went out the door. I bet it’s dripping right now!” I exploded into her mouth as I felt the head of my cock touch the back of her throat. The larger wolf sniffed around the dusky woman, hunched Dildos as she was in a doggy position, her rear exposed lewdly to the air. I sat motionless, feeling very naughty about being in a strange man’s hotel room.