There standing over us was a tall, tanned, guy of perhaps 60. He appeared to be in pretty good shape and had a rather large cock hanging down between ...is legs. Even soft it had to be at least 8" long."Hi," he said, "I’ve been sitting on the other side of the river watching you guys and thought I’d come over and see what you’re reading." He said his name was John and pointed to a chair across the water and then looked back at us. John and I exchanged pleasantries while Anne just kind of sat. “No fever, at least,” he murmured. “Was it something you ate?”I shook my head. “Drank,” I croaked.“Too much whiskey?”Fuck, he knew me. He read the look of shame on my expression and laughed.“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, gently taking me into his arms. He lifted me off the floor and carried me back to my room.“What if I throw up on you?”“There’s this great invention I have to tell you about, Celie,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “It’s called a washing machine.”I punched. More

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