There was an old rambling shack called the Mooney Hotel, at an angle across the street from the town’s corral. A full-length porch stretched from on... side to the other, across the full length of the hotel. Two old timers were seated side-by-side on some old cane-bottom chairs decorating the front of Mooney’s. One old timer, scruffy looking with a grey tobacco-stained beard and moustache, leaned forward long enough to squirt a stream of brown tobacco juice with a dead eyed aim at a brown. Of-course, every time he stuck his finger up inside me and started to wriggle it about, at first I would grip his finger and go all tense, he would talk very lovingly to me and gradually get me to relax, finally, I was going crazy with his mouth on my pussy sucking me dry and his finger up my bum ploughing it in and out of me faster and faster.Many of the times at the beginning, he would get me to the point where I just couldn’t take any more and he would pull his finger out and just cuddle me. More

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