She come over and seat down beside me and rubbed my head. “I don’t know how hard this is for you and I know that you just want it to end but this ...s not the way.” Mr. Clearwater walked over and picked the gun up and relocked the trigger. Then he placed it in his drawer and locked it too. He walked over and seat down next to us and rubbed my back. “Becky, please don’t do this to me again. I can’t lose you and Sherry. I love both of you girls and am glad to have you as my daughters.” I looked up. As I got out of my car I grabbed my fag bag and proceeded up to his truck. He was getting out as well and was walking toward me slowly. I could see the profile of his woodie through his jeans as he walked. We met at the end of the trailer and he said to me “bushes OK?” I said yes and told him I needed to get my knee pads out of the car. I did so quickly and then followed him behind some tall creosote and mesquite to a small clearing. There were bottles and rubbers and other signs of activity. I am stroking furiously now, sensing her climax, her first of many, I'm sure, before they are done. I see her expression change as her orgasm storms forward, taking her over. Her legs and arms tremble, then vibrate. Her tits, suspended beneath her, brush erect nipples across the chest of the man beneath her. She strains. Drool drips from her chin. Her asshole clamps as her cunt dilates under the thrusts up into her. And then her stifled, guttural scream emerges, staccato ed by the cock fucking. But still... in the context of what was taking place; it was damn erotic and my cock began to stand at 'Attention' to her calling me baby. I sat up and reached out to comfort her and she fell into my arms in a clinging embrace. She felt so good and I was being such a phony shit!... But she felt so good! This was to be my first real understanding of the phrase, "A stiff prick has no conscious." I was a real, conscious-less prick... and getting prickier by the minute. Betty was still trembling.
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