When I was twelve I got my first deer, and I never hunted with any other rifle. When I saw that tom pecking around, I took aim without a conscious tho...ght. At that range I couldn’t miss, and I knew that there was no better eating than a wild turkey cooked right. Yeah, I ate too much of it, but damn, it was good. The nights were still cold at that altitude, even though it was officially springtime. It made for good sleeping and pleasant weather for hiking, so I wasn’t complaining. Chapter. Some spit oozed out and started to slide down his ass crack.Harry hadn't really realized what a gorgeous, sexy stud his son was. That is, if you looked at him objectively, and not as a father. Objectively speaking--of course!--Harry could see why some disgusting pervert faggot might get the hots for that slender body with the long fat dick; why some sicko might want to eat out that shiny ass pucker and play with his own man dick until it got really hard, and then drop some spit on it, and try. More

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